Sorry this one was taking so long, but it was pretty hard to come up with, and to fit everything in that I wanted in this chapter without it being too outrageous.

Anyways, I have been asked to explain who everyone is, which I, in fact, already did. I will not be blankly writing it out in the author's notes, because I feel that takes away a bit of the mystery. Reread chapters one and two, and it will tell you (you might be able to figure it out just on chapter one, because I mention Caution's hair color, which is a dead giveaway, and the actual real names of Caster and Traveler). I hope that helps, and I'm sorry that it was a little unclear.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series.

But someday I'll get it—and it's little dog too! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!


Run.

Run, Caution.

She was always running. Out of breath, and out of time. It was all in the life of Caution, and she accepted it. She didn't like it, but she accepted it for what it was—after all, it was because of her mistakes that she was who she was. No. Not who she was—what she was.

And what she was wasn't very pretty.

But she accepted that too.

She was lost in thought, until the taxi driver snapped his fingers in front of her face. When she came out of her daze, he was rubbing his fingers together, requesting his money. She looked out the window, finding a familiar place as a sight to her sore eyes. She handed him his rightful pay, and left the taxi with her backpack safely on her shoulder. The driver drove off, grumbling about her lack of tip.

Caution's heart was beating faster than it ever had, except during the accident. Now she was having to face her past, and what she'd done to cause her to leave it behind. Deep breaths may have been beneficial during robberies, but they did her no good now.

She walked on the cobblestone path to the old townhouse, hoping she had the right one. With little space in between the homes, they were practically duplicates of each other. She looked to the golden plated number on the door. 1705. This was it, if her memory served her correctly, and it always did.

Before she could decide against it, her body moved on it's own and rang the doorbell. Caution nearly bolted with she heard the muttered response as footsteps came to the opposite side of the door. When the wood slung open, no words were spoken, just a look of shock from the homeowner, and a look of guilt upon Caution.

It took a moment before he slung his arms around her, "Annabeth."

And it took another moment before she hugged him back, "Grover."

"You're alive." The words were simple in her ears, yet they had some much meaning.

"Yeah."

He suddenly released her, "where? Where have you been? Ever since—well, you know—" Caution nodded. Yeah. She knew. "No one's seen you. We thought you were dead."

Caution didn't say anything. The gray cloud of guilt over her only darkened.

"Where have you been?" He asked again.

The atmosphere went cold. Caution could tell him the truth. Warehouses. Museums. Off with a drug-dealer thief who was probably already looking for her. Or. She could tell him a lie, like she'd always done. She had lied to some many people before, he shouldn't be any different.

"Annabeth?—"

"Nowhere." Annabeth tried not to meet his eyes. "I've been nowhere."

And that was the truth. She had lost herself when she'd been with Caster, and now that she was separated from him, she was slowly gaining herself back. Little by little, she was trying to get rid of Caution, and she really hoped she would. But deep down, even she knew that was impossible.

"Well, come in, Annabeth." He smiled warmly at her, as if not caring that she wouldn't admit to him. "You look tired, and hungry." A growl from Caution's stomach confirmed that. He smiled wider. "I've got dinner on the stove."

Dinner was light, as Grover had only planned to cook for one. Despite constant offers to cook more food, Caution turned him down and took the smallest bit she could to sustain herself. She had just appeared, six years missing, with a different hair color, and she couldn't just take all his food and leave.

She wouldn't deny that she was starving, after all, it had been a long time since she had a good home cooked meal. During dinner, she mostly poked at her cheese enchiladas, occasionally taking a bite. She could feel Grover's eyes on her, still deciding if it was really her. Her freshly-dyed brunette hair may have been a small throw-off, but with gray eyes like that, it was no one but Caution.

"You shouldn't have left, you know."

"Grover, don't even start."

"All I'm saying is that you left, just when everyone needed you."

"No one needed me."

"Yes, we did. After what happened, you just disappeared. We thought you had gone to clear your head—and that was okay—you've done it before, but when you didn't come back..." Grover trailed off.

"You thought I was dead?"

"Yeah."

It was silent after that. His words hung in the air, suffocating Caution as it constantly reminded her how badly she had hurt everyone. She continued picking at her food, as Grover continued shoving it down. She would never say it, but she couldn't help but feel, that maybe, everyone would be better off if she was dead.

The rest of dinner was eaten without much speaking, other than the casual conversation about the weather and how much she'd grown. It was late—well, not really, it was only nine o'clock, but time had become just another illusion to Caution; just another obstacle in her daily life.

Caution slept in the guest room, but it took until midnight for her to actually allow herself to sleep. In truth, she was afraid to close her eyes. The memory of Traveler's murder was constantly on her mind, and it would haunt her until the day she died. So, probably within the next week.

He had to know by now—Caster, that is. That she had left, his top thief (now his only thief). Caution had been a constant source for the money, and money was resting in her left jacket pocket. Her fingers closed around it. Guilt was written on her face, shrouded by the darkness of night. The jewel was just another reminder that Traveler was dead.

And just as she had expected, she relived Traveler's death through her dreams, roughly waking up around six in the morning. Grover was sure to wake up within the next hour or two, and fear would keep her awake until then. She pulled her knees into her chest, and tried to clear her mind.

An hour later, Caution hadn't moved from her position, only to be jolted by the slamming of the front door. Caution immediately flew to the floor, her hands positioned in fists in front of her face, ready for a fight. She slowly crept out of her room, pressed up against the walls, jumping out into the living room in hopes of surprising a prowler, but there was no one there.

She walked into the kitchen, the be greeted by only a note scrawled on a grocery planner:

Annabeth,

Went to work, didn't want to wake you. Cereal is in the pantry, be back for lunch.

-Grover

Caution placed the note back on the table, and walked over to the pantry. She found a whole grain cereal with five grams of fiber, which would be disgusting to most people, but she was glad that Grover ate her favorite cereal. She poured herself a bowl, without milk—fiber didn't taste very good when it was soggy—and sat at the table to eat alone

The only sound was of her dipping her spoon into the cereal and shoving it into her mouth. But there was another noise. Caution fell still, placing her spoon onto the table, and listened for it. There it was! She heard it again: a small beep. It was very faint, and if Annabeth hadn't been trained to hear the quietest of noises, she wouldn't have noticed it.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

Caution slowly stood from her seat, trying to locate the origin of the sound. It was faint, but Annabeth followed it, going where her ears directed her. She was light in her steps, hoping not to make the wooden floors creak, as she walked towards the living room. She was getting closer she could feel it.

It was coming from the couch. She stared at it, as if trying to see through it, as she got down on her knees to be more level with the sofa. From there, she tried to find the exact spot of the beeping, and finally decided that it was coming from the right end. Zeroing in on it, something occurred to her.

Her backpack was on the right end.

She dove for the backpack, digging through it's contents, and finding nothing. When her things were all laid out and checked, Caution felt very confused. The beeping was still there, yet all her things were clear. Then on hunch, Caution picked up her backpack, and lifted it to her ear.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

The beep wasn't inside her bag, it was her bag. Caution felt through the lining of the fabric, finally closing her fingers around a small, but obviously there, object. The fabric of her bag had obviously been cut, and sewn so well it wouldn't be noticeable unless she had been looking for it. She pulled the object, still inside her backpack, to her ear, closing her eyes to listen.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

It was definitely making the noise. She gripped the bag in her hand and bolted into the kitchen, setting it on the table near her forgotten cereal. In a panicked rush, Caution searched through the drawers, finally finding a pair of scissors. She found the object with her hand, and cut through the fabric, removing the object.

She held it in her hand, it's quiet little beep still sounding. It was small, almost tiny, and black. It was thin, and would be unnoticeable when she had been wearing the backpack. She recognized the object. It was a tracer, small enough to be held, but big enough to be hid in secret. It was about four years old, and she had even used it herself on missions.

It was Caster's. He'd been tracking her.

It was as if he always known that she'd do this one day; that she'd run away. He was good, scary good. Caution held it between her fingers, and smirked, as if she were looking straight into the eyes of Caster. Then she crushed it. For any newbie, that would've been it, but Caution knew better.

Despite the tracer being destroyed, Caster had his ways, and the tracer may still work. She walked out the back door, ran three houses down, and dumped it into their trash can. She was practically leading Caster to their door, and almost felt bad about it. Almost.

She smiled as she walked back, a sense of caution being wiped from her. She allowed her arms to swing in happiness, as she walked back to Grover's house. She was going to beat Caster at his own game, for Grover had slipped her one casual little detail last night at dinner.

"Annabeth? Would you mind emptying the trash can from that bathroom into the one in the kitchen? I want to get it out tonight—tomorrow's trash day.

She yawned as she walked through Grover's front door, and headed to her bedroom. Six hours of sleep wasn't under the required eight, and Grover wouldn't be home for a few hours. She laid down under the covers, and closed her eyes, and sure enough she woke up a few hours later. But not because of her dreams, Grover had walked, noisily through the front door, slamming it as he came inside.

She jumped up, and walked out into the living room, giving him a hug. They chatted casually over a small lunch of Thai takeout. Caution hadn't let it show, but she was happily surprised that Grover remembered her favorite foods. Throughout lunch, an eerie feeling set over her.

Caution had felt this before, the feeling that someone was staring at her. She stood up, and crept towards the window, carefully looking out it, trying not to be seen. There was a car outside the house, and she was almost sure that she had seen the house during her earlier trip outside.

"Annabeth?

"Ssh!" She shushed him.

He stood up, "What're you—"

"Get down!"

Grover dropped down to the floor, "What's going on?"

"There's someone watching us."

"What?!"

And there was. There was someone staking her out. The car was a dark blue, and obviously too pricey for this neighborhood. The car would've looked empty to anyone who wasn't paying attention, but Caution had lived this life for a very long time.

There was a man in the driver's seat, but he was sitting low on the floor. However he had to see somehow, and had a pair of binoculars placed ever-so-slightly against the windows. Nevertheless, they were visible. And to Caution, it was a dead giveaway.

Perhaps it was some druggie hired by Luke to beat her a bit, and drag her back?

No.

In the reflection of his right side mirror—the mirror opposite to her—she could see the image of translucent red bulb, with a light inside. Caution had seen too many of those not to know what it was. A police siren—attachable and detachable to the outside of a car roof—used for undercover police cars.

Her eyes narrowed. He was a cop.

And he was getting out of his car, and was walking to the front door of Grover's house. Caution swallowed, and turned to Grover, trying to solve it out in her mind. He looked at her, waiting for her judgment. She licked her lips in nervous anticipation.

She spoke fast to him. "Okay. Grover, I'm not here, no matter what that man asks, I'm not here. Do not let him in, and do not give him any clue to where I could be."

He looked at her with a mix of confusion and shock. It was all coming out. He didn't know she was Caution; he didn't know she was a top-class thief. He only knew her for what she was when she was a child, and she certainly wasn't that innocent little kid anymore. Caution sprinted to her bedroom and hid in her closet.

The doorbell rang, and Grover opened the door to find a tall young man in dark jeans, a green button-up so dark that it could've been black, and a black suit jacket. His black hair was messy and shaggy, and he was obviously young, perhaps only seventeen or eighteen years old. Despite his young age, he was all business.

"Sorry for bothering you," the man spoke, "but I am Detective Percy Jackson from the New York City Police Department," he flashed his badge, "has this girl been here lately." Grover refused to react as he held up a well drawn profile picture of Annabeth.

"No." Grover shook his head. "I don't recognize her."

Percy's hand suddenly dropped to his side, "are you sure?"

"Positive. I don't know her."

Percy's eyes suddenly traveled over Grover's shoulder, locking eyes on a black backpack, resting on the living room sofa. His suspect, Caution, had been spotted with such a backpack multiple times. Grover didn't take notice of his sudden zone out on their conversation, and Percy looked back to him before he could.

"Don't lie."

"What? I'm not lying." Grover crossed his arms.

"I have reports from the houses near you that a girl had entered this house."

"I'm not lying." Grover insisted, faking offense.

"May I come in?" Percy asked in an authoritative voice.

"May I see your warrant?" Grover held out his hand, in a similar voice.

"What?"

"Your warrant." Grover repeated. "Or do you not have one? If I see you on my property again, without one, I will call the police. I'm sure they'd love to hear one of their own is violating my fourth amendment."

Percy pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow, and nodded his thanks for Grover's time, then left. Grover closed the door, leaning against it in relief for a moment, before straightening up in a huff. Someone had some explaining to do. Grover walked towards Caution's bedroom, and knocked on the closed door.

"Annabeth? He's gone."

She opened the door, and threw her arms around him, "thanks, Grover."

He smoothed her hair in a brotherly way, "what have you gotten yourself into?"

She release him. "Nothing, I can't handle," she insisted, "but I have to go now. If the police know where I am, and Cas—never mind. I'm leaving, Grover. Thanks for everything."

Then she walked past him, not even giving him a chance to object. She grabbed her backpack from the living room couch, and started walking towards the back door. Just as she was about to turn the knob, the front doorbell rang. She dove out of sight, as Grover opened the door, ready to drive the detective off again, but it wasn't the detective.

"Can I help you?" Asked Grover.

"Um, yes, is, uh, Annabeth here?" Caster. He said her voice in a tone of uncertainty, as if he'd forgotten her true name.

"Who?"

Caster wasn't as patient as Percy, "Don't even try. Where is she?"

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"My tracer went off location here. She's been here." There was a sudden beeping in Caster's pocket, and he pulled out a handheld device, suddenly looking smug. "What luck," he said, in a sarcastic voice. "She's near. I'll be back."

The door closed, signally that Caster was gone. Caution waited a moment to ensure that he wouldn't come back, and then bolted to Grover. He turned to her, fear suddenly tracing his eyes. They gripped each other's forearms, and Caution could feel Grover holding back tears.

"Grover," she tried to banish the panic from her voice, to calm Grover, but it wouldn't work, "I need to you leave. Go to a neighbor's house or something. Don't let him see you, and everything will be fine."

"Annabeth? Who is that? What's going on?" Her panic transferred to his voice.

"I'm sorry." And she really was. "Just get out of here, please. Don't come back for a day or two."

Grover nodded, understanding that it was serious. They both ran out the back door, and Caution watched with relief as Grover disappeared into a neighbor's house five doors down. Caution was about to run away, but she spotted Caster's car with it's keyed engraving of a C.

She smiled, as she darted quickly across the seat, threatening her exposure if Caster saw her. She made it across safely, and picked the lock with a hairpin. She ducked inside the car, and felt the small space behind the wheel. She found the key that was hidden there, and pushed it into the ignition.

As she drove away, without a license at that, Caster wasn't following her. She was thankful for that, he was probably still searching for her in that other house after he found the tracer trashed. She had already broken the speed limit, and felt a wave of security as she prayed for Grover's security too.

After five hours of driving, she was running low on gas as she was driving through a town, and she spotted the local police station. She laughed to herself, as she parked in front of the station, skipping away from the car as she continued on foot.

Why? It's a no parking zone.


The world simply hated Caution didn't it?

She had hitchhiked, and taken taxi's another two hundred miles through New Jersey. That was her first mistake. Taxis. She shouldn't have taken so many, it was too expensive, and the money she had stolen was running out. She had tried to get a hotel, but she never had enough money.

Caution wandered the streets, which was not a smart move on her part. It was late and dark, but Caution thrived in the dark. She had already been attacked by two local gangs, and her protective status back in New York didn't travel down with her. No matter.

She had beat and embarrassed the two groups, and word carried fast in New Jersey. Now every criminal in that town, and all the nearby towns, knew of the grey-eyed girl who could fight off an entire gang. After her last fight, she made it two blocks, before she found the welcoming sign.

Welcome to Lambertville, NJ

She didn't even make it to the population amount before she facepalmed. Caution was ready to beat herself back to New York for her stupidity. She hadn't checked what town she was in, and now she had spent the night fighting gangs and wandering about, when she could've been resting.

She knelt down by the sign, removing her bag from her back, and unzipped it. She searched through her bag until she found that old ripped piece of notebook paper. She smiled, laughing, as she rugged the paper to her. She regained her composure as she flagged down a late night taxi, spending her last twenty dollars on her last hope.

It was well past midnight when she reached her location, deep in the woods. The taxi had only taken her to where the main road ended, but the driver promised there was only about half a mile left. She had nodded her thanks, shouldered her bag, and set off walking.

Despite it being so late, the lights in the old wooden cabin were still lit. The faint smell of delicious roasted deer meat hung in the air, most likely from dinner. Caution was definitely in the right place. She took a breath, before she banged her fist against the door.

There was a scuffled of confusion inside, visitors were probably few and far between. Caution bit her lip, waiting. When the door opened, Caution was greeted with a slight smile of and old friend and the smell of beer. They both stood there for a moment, before Caution spoke.

"Thunder." Caution smiled.

"Caution." Thunder said her name as if it were a fond old memory she couldn't wait to be rid of. "Been a while."

"Yeah."

"Well, come on in." Thunder gestured her in.

Caution walked through the door into a woodsy type home. She noticed everything was carved from wood as she walked into the foyer, followed by Thunder. Caution offered a thankful smile to Thunder, but she didn't return it, as Thunder motioned for her to sit.

"So, tell me, Annabeth, what the hell did you do to piss Luke off this time?"

Caution: High Voltage


So. I hope that was good. I hope I haven't lost all those who have been reading. I hope you guys enjoyed, and thanks to all those who reviewed, favorited, and followed. Over 4,000 words, so I hope that made up for not updating.

This is definitely different from what I usually write, definitely a little bit darker and different way of perceiving Annabeth and everyone else. I hope you enjoyed the little Grover moment. And most of the names relate to who they represent... FYI...

Anyways, Read and Review!


You guys are such Awesome Possums! :oD