Chapter 4

"I can't control myself, don't know who I've been
And who is this monster wearing my skin?"

- Paralysed, Against The Current

"All right, everyone, listen up."

Annabeth stands at the front of the room, resting her forearms on the podium. Her main girls ("my team," she affectionately calls them, whenever she does they all take simultaneous swigs of their coffee) are all seated on plastic chairs arranged haphazardly around the room. Piper is sat cross-legged on a chair next to Annabeth, sewing up a piece of clothing that had gotten ripped, and when Annabeth speaks she looks up at her.

"So," Annabeth says. "As I'm sure many of you have heard, the captive has been healed."

"Finally," Silena says. "It felt like he was wounded forever."

"Isn't that so," Drew says.

Annabeth shoots her a look. She's playing on thin ice already. She really can't afford to be snarking off during her briefs. "Drew."

Drew just rolls her eyes.

Annabeth decides to just ignore her. She's good but she is a lot more trouble than she's worth. If she pays her any more attention she's afraid she might get an ulcer or something. "Anyway," she says. "Because of this, questioning is to start immediately. I've briefed you all on what is going to happen. Does everyone remember?"

Everyone nods.

"Good." Annabeth produces her folder and then pulls some sheets from it, handing them to Piper to pass out. "I've printed out timetables for everyone."

Groans go around the room, and despite herself, Annabeth smiles. Lacey bangs her head against the table, and when Piper hands Rachel a sheet she takes one look and raises an eyebrow. "Full colour again, Chase?" she asks, grinning.

"You know it, Dare."

Rachel laughs. "Man, I love you."

Piper gives Drew her timetable, and she takes it with a haughty expression, her fingers arched like there has to be minimum skin contact with the paper or she'll get a disease. She turns it around delicately, and peers at it – and then her head shoots up, glaring.

"Uh, Annabeth?" she says.

Annabeth smirks. "Yes, Drew?"

Drew looks like she wants to scowl at her, but she manages to smooth her expression into one of indifference. "I think there's been a misprint," she says. "It says I'm on toilet duty, but that job was meant to be given to the younger initiates."

"Oh, no, that wasn't a misprint," Annabeth says, and Drew's stare turns venomous. "I just thought since you loved jumping the gun so much that I'd give you one of the lower jobs so you learn your place." She leans forward. "Take this is your warning, Tanaka. I'm the leader here, and you follow my orders. Are we clear?"

Drew's eyes tighten. "Crystal."

Annabeth leans back a little and addresses everyone. "The rest of you," she says. "I'm expecting you'll stick to the timetables, and you'll remember the training. If any of you are lost or confused, please feel free to come see me in my office. Everyone understand?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Piper chirps, coming back around to the front of the room and collapsing in her chair, and the entire room echoes accordingly, some of them even saluting. Annabeth catches Rachel's eye, who beams at her, and she feels something warm in her stomach.

"Good," Annabeth says. And then, just to have a little fun: "So, now that that's out the way, how are we all feeling, laideez?"

The room collectively groans and takes sips of their 'coffee'. She smirks. She loves life.

Annabeth feels almost ill as she walks up to Percy's room.

She's first on the rota. At first, she had thought she was doing herself a favour – after all, she's going first. She sees him unmarked, not covered in blood. She gets it over with. But every step she takes, she more she realises what a mistake this was. Yes, she is going to see Percy unmarked, but she is going to be the one who hurts him first. She's going first, and she's going to see the light die in his eyes.

You just need to make sure that your relationship is strictly one-way, all right?

This was the hardest part all along.

She is dully aware of the girl playing guard on the door pressing her hand against the scanner and it sliding open, and she walks in. Percy's head rolls over at the noise, and when his gaze lands on her he lights up, and Annabeth aches, because they're friends now – more of a Drew than a Piper, sure, but friends nonetheless – and now she has to do this to him, and she honestly doesn't know if she can.

"Annabeth!" he says. "Oh, thank goodness you've come." He lowers his voice. "Eyelashes dearest just escorted me to the toilet and it was truly a very messy business. Much rather you'd have been there. Would've been nicer to have someone who actually wanted to get into my pants pulling them down instead of just grumbling and rolling her eyes."

"For the last time, I don't want to 'get into your pants'."

"Your loss." Percy wriggles his shoulders. "So, what's it going to be today, then, princess? Do you want some more fascinating stories from my childhood or perhaps my scandalous teenage years, or will I finally get to hear about your life now?"

Drew didn't tell him.

This was it. This was her final triumph. She didn't tell him even though she definitely was able to, because she spent quite a while up here helping Percy get to and from the toilet with his weakened limbs and circulation. But she was angry because Annabeth made her and now her revenge was making her tell Percy.

Damn it, Drew. Annabeth silently vows to put her on bathroom duty for the rest of her life.

"We're doing something a little different today," Annabeth says.

Percy raises an eyebrow. "Does it involve me getting out of the cuffs? I'm running out of sex jokes that involve me being tied down and I have a whole arsenal that I can only say if I'm standing upright."

"You could have said one right then."

"If you're talking about the one about me being 'erect' then too bad, I already thought of that. I was just planning on using it when I was erect – as in upright, Annabeth, don't give me that look, I'm not that hormonal – so the whole double-entendre would really make sense. But you've ruined it now, so, thanks."

Annabeth almost rolls her eyes in the way she would have a few days ago, but she refrains.

If you were going to be such a wimp about it then I thought maybe I should step in.

She hates to admit it, but Drew was right. She was getting too soft. It was war, this game they were playing, not some silly fairy tale Annabeth could spiel herself into believing. Everyone looks up to her because she's their leader, and she's their leader because she clawed her way to the top and was cunning about it. Annabeth Chase, leader of Minerva, doesn't crack at the first pretty boy she sees. She has to do this for her girls, her family.

Percy can't mean anything to her. She's already got too close. This has to end now.

"You're welcome," she says, and her voice comes out a little too cold. Percy looks surprised at it. "But no, today we're not exchanging stories."

"That's a shame," Percy says, but he's looking a little confused. "I had just rounded up my favourite stories about Emo Teenage Percy. Oh well." He arranges himself in the cuffs. "Well, then, princess, what are we doing today, if not exchanging hilarious childhood anecdotes? Finally succumbed to your urges?" He smirks lewdly.

"That's right," Annabeth says, and pulls the knife from her belt.

Percy falls dead silent.

He stares at the knife like it's a rattlesnake, all the blood gone from his face. Annabeth has to force herself to wrangle into her Annabeth Chase headspace so she doesn't actually throw up. It's a tactic Athena taught her. "We train for years," she had said, "but we're still just as human as the people who lead normal lives outside these walls. It's not in our nature to hurt or to kill. So to do it, and to be able to get out of bed the next morning, you'll need to become a whole new person."

"I don't understand," Annabeth had said.

"You will."

It had taken years for Annabeth to really grasp the concept. In fact, it was the day after her first up-and-close kill, done by a knife, and not by firing a gun and watching a faceless body miles away collapse, and she was vomiting into a toilet bowl, sobbing. She just couldn't understand how her mother could do it without the sickening, crunching burden of guilt and self-loathing that went along with it – until she did, hours later, when she was forced to shoot a traitor sitting only a metre away.

"I can't," she had said.

"Then don't," Athena had said. "Let it take over."

Annabeth was about to ask what, until she could feel it, nudging at the edge of her psyche, and blindly, she let it overcome her. It was a whole new mindset, a new way of seeing things, and she was able to pull the trigger without even a second thought about anything.

It's a coping mechanism, she's learnt. She can wear it like a hat, put it on when she's getting too compassionate, take it off when she needs to be, and she hates doing it. But if she doesn't switch in now, she might just go mad.

Percy is your friend, the last remaining piece of her mind says. You can't hurt your friend.

He is not a friend, she thinks. He is a captive, and the key into making sure Olympus leave you alone forever.

"Oh," Percy whispers.

"You had to know this was happening," Annabeth says.

"I did," Percy says. "But... not–" His voice cuts off abruptly.

But not now. Not from you.

"You're all healed," Annabeth says.

"Annabeth," he says.

She ignores him, and shoves the knife back in her belt loop. When Percy frowns, she momentarily breaks. "For the drama," she says, slightly sheepish. "I kind of needed a weapon to make it effective."

"Ah."

She forces herself back into the mindset, and opens one of the cupboards, rootling through it. She is very conscious of Percy behind her, his eyes boring holes into her back, but she tries to ignore him, until she can find what she's looking for. She pulls them out and balances them on the counter, and then turns to face him.

"What we're going today," she says, "is a bit of questioning."

She sidesteps to reveal what she's pulled out.

A blow-torch and a branding iron.

Percy's eyes widen.

"It's quite simple," Annabeth says, picking up her things and moving to sit by his bed. Only a day ago she was sat here, laughing with him. "I'll ask you a question." She switches on the blowtorch. "And all you have to do is answer." She brings the branding iron in front of the flame, lazily begins to heat it up. Percy watches as it starts to glow iron. "Sounds easy, right?"

"If I don't answer, will you stamp me with that?"

"You're catching on."

"You're waving it in front of my face."

"Touché." Annabeth pulls the iron away and examines it. "And yes. That is what will happen."

Percy's throat jumps. "You may as well do it now."

She moves it back into the flame. "I haven't even asked the first question."

"You don't have to. I won't rat out my family."

Coolly, she raises an eyebrow. "Really."

"Really."

"Well, that's adorable," Annabeth says. "I'm guessing you've never felt one of these before."

Percy's face is indecipherable, but it's the flash of fear in his eyes that tells her.

"Aw, you haven't," Annabeth says. She leans in. If he can be lewd so can she. "Well," she says, her voice featherlight, her breath brushing against his ear. "I'm honoured to be your first."

He visibly trembles, but with what, she doesn't know.

Annabeth tilts her head. "Look at you," she says. "All tied up. Completely at my mercy. It's kind of hot if you think about it." She pulls away the brand from the blowtorch and holds her hand near it. It's glowing red, and she can feel the heat even from where she's hovering her hand a safe distance away. It's ready. "Don't you think, Percy?"

Percy keeps his eyes on the ceiling.

"Unresponsive," she says. "Well, that's upsetting. I usually like mine loud." She toys with the brand in her hands, rolling the pole in her hands. "Ready for the first question?"

His voice is thick when he speaks. "I won't answer."

"You might think twice about that soon, hon," she says. "Now. Who are you to Trident? What's your rank?"

"I'm an initiate."

Annabeth laughs softly. "Oh, babe. You're going to have to try a lot harder to convince me of that." She brings the brand close to his arm. She doesn't let it touch skin, but he can feel the heat, and his whole body tenses. "The truth, please."

"I won't tell you that."

"Then say your prayers, pretty boy," she says. "Because this is going to hurt."

And she pushes the brand against his arm.

Percy's body convulses. His throat jumps with a groan that rips its way out so painfully and harshly Annabeth just knows it hurt coming out. He's suppressing a scream, and the sane part of her that's still there somehow thinks that it would been easier if he didn't, because seeing someone in pain is one thing but seeing them trying to stay strong through it is really something else. She stares resolutely at the space above his head and presses harder, and his whole body begins to tremble, his arms and legs jerking in the cuffs, sobs tearing their ways out of his throat.

She only keeps the brand there for about five seconds but it feels like years. When she pulls away, he's shaking, and there are tears leaking out of his eyes.

"Change your mind yet?" she asks mildly, as if she currently isn't falling to pieces.

Percy is still trembling with pain, but he manages to school his expression into a glare so fierce if looks could kill she'd be dead on the floor. "That your best shot, princess?" he spits. His lips stain crimson. He's bitten his tongue. "You're going to have to try a lot harder."

"Oh, trust me," Annabeth says. "I haven't even started yet." She weighs the brand in her hand, not taking her eyes off his the whole time. They're wet and wide and green and the only thing grounding her. "So, let's try again. Position?"

"Not a chance."

"Such a shame," Annabeth says, her voice wry. "I'd always hoped the time I get to see you writhe would be in under very different circumstances." She switches on the blow torch again, heats up the end of the pole. She's careless with it. The open flame comes too close to Percy's arm, and he flinches away instinctively. "Is there anything you will tell me?"

"Rot in hell, Annabeth Chase."

Annabeth arches an eyebrow. "If you want to play it like that, then fine," she says. She switches off the blowtorch, positioning the brand, and makes her voice low and sultry. "I'd always had a thing for pain, after all."

This time Percy does scream. His body spasms uncontrollably, thrashing against the cuffs like he's having a seizure. Annabeth thinks she goes so deep into her headspace she momentarily loses focus of what's going on and her vision blurs, before she forces herself upwards, head reeling. Under her hands, Percy is still screaming, his voice hoarse and so pained, and she can only watch as the flesh underneath the brand puckers and smokes, breaking and curling away from the iron. For a moment, she completely goes under, pulling the brand away and looking in awe at the damaged flesh, and then her fingers twitch, and then she's moving her hand to trail it over the mark, and that's when she quickly snaps herself out of it.

God, what is happening to her? This isn't normal. This isn't normal at all.

There is blood and drool all around Percy's mouth, dripping down the side of his chin. He's bitten his lip open, his tongue, too, and she thinks he may have damaged his throat from the screaming. There are tears trickling out his eyes and his nose and he's shaking so badly for a second she's worried he's actually having a seizure, and then his eyes focus on her and she almost does a double take because she's never seen so much hatred in an expression before.

"You're a monster," he says.

"I warned you."

"You're enjoying this."

No I'm not. Annabeth Chase is, but I'm not.

"You're partially to blame," she says. "This is the lightest you're going to get."

"I won't betray my family."

But she can see it in his eyes, he's unsure. Because while this was painful, while this hurt to watch, people have been branded before, and have survived quite easily, this is only just the beginning, and this, every day, for weeks on end, is going to do something to him. And it's not even the physical pain, either. Annabeth knows this is hurting Percy just as much as it's hurting her. They were friends. While at first it may have been opportunistic, another way to hurt him, she grew to like him. She cares for him. In another life, they could have been best friends.

And now she's put a red-hot iron against his flesh, twice, and by the end of the week it will have happened dozens more times. It's got to hurt. It was meant to.

Annabeth just didn't realise how much.

"They're not going to come back for you," she says. She's slowly beginning to come back. "You need to realise that. You're going to be here for the rest of your life."

"They might."

"They won't. Unless you're a sergeant, unless you're in charge of something, they won't. Olympus is huge. They won't miss one. I'm telling you that as a friend."

Percy laughs humourlessly. "Friend."

"I'm trying to help you."

"Are we done here?"

Percy isn't looking at her. Annabeth sighs.

She still has ten minutes left on her slot. But if she stays in here one more minute she might explode.

"Yes," she says. She rises from her chair, rests the brand in the sink, and switches on the tap. They both watch as the metal hisses and the water billows in steam. She leaves the tap on. Someone will come in after a while and switch it off, clean up the mess. Piper had told her maybe she should, toy with Percy a little, and she was planning to, but he's angry, and she's just so, so tired, that she can't anymore.

"Goodbye, Percy," she says.

He doesn't respond.

She walks out the room.

She doesn't cry, but she feels numb, a sort of void that she hasn't really felt for a while.

"How was it?" Piper asks.

Annabeth hums a little. "I don't know," she says.

Piper pauses from where she was painting her nails. "You don't know?"

"It's– I don't know, Piper," she says, and Piper frowns and completely puts down the brush, giving Annabeth's foot a reassuring pat. "There's just– something about it. I– I don't know. I've never liked questioning the captives. But– I did what my mom told me, right? Headspace. Stop yourself from going mad, so create a whole different person in your mind for you to hide behind whenever you have to do something really evil. And–" She cuts off.

"It's okay," Piper says. "Breathe."

Annabeth lets out the breath she didn't know she was holding.

"There we go." Piper rubs her foot. "You don't have to tell me."

"But I do." She sighs, and stares at her fingernails. Piper had painted them a very pretty purple, a colour they borrowed from one of the girls who works the gun dealer down the street. "I– I don't know what happened. I was– um, burning him – and then suddenly it was like I lost all control. I– I couldn't get out." She pauses, focusing on the glitter in the polish. "For about four terrifying seconds, all I could do was sit back and watch this – other me enjoy doing this stuff to him. And I– you don't know how scary it was, Piper."

"You can call him Percy, you know."

That's not what she's expecting her to say. "What?"

Piper is watching her with a funny expression. "You never call him by name in front of us," she says.

Annabeth frowns. "That's not true."

"Uh, yes it is, and I probably have filmed evidence."

"Probably?"

"Sure, I hooked all the girls up with some secret bra cams. I switched them all off, don't worry, and I've set up all sorts of firewalls around the streams that locate the IP address to, like, Africa, or something, but I'm pretty sure at least one malfunctioned and accidentally switched on during one of your briefs."

"And by malfunction do you mean you switched it on."

"Absolutely, before the brief I made sure to switch a few on at random." At Annabeth's look, Piper holds up her hands, almost throwing the brush at the wall behind her. "What? It keeps people on their toes! And makes my life a lot more interesting. Did you know Amber is seeing someone?"

"Really?"

"One hundred percent! Lacey's cam was on and I got the full conversation of Amber telling her. I also got a few more gruesome details that I really could have gone without, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers, but it's totally true. Anyway, back on point, if you listen to the footage of your brief this morning, I don't think you ever call him Percy."

"Should I?"

"Well, I mean, you did spend a lot of time up there before, and I'm assuming it wasn't just all cleaning his wounds, because, like, no offence, but you don't need an hour to put some iodine on a poxy cut, so, like, you two obviously must have formed some sort of relationship."

"That's untrue."

"Don't even think about lying to me, Chase, those cameras in that room have audio."

Damn. "I was just trying to get him to trust me."

Piper raises her hands. "You don't need to get all snippy with him. I don't really care what you did, so long as it wasn't sleep with him or help him escape. I also have no interest in watching the footage, either, because he did also did try to clumsily flirt with me a couple of times, and that was when I was up there for three minutes per trip, so if you were up there with him for sometimes hours at a time I don't want to know how many bad pick-up lines he wrangled in there and I don't particularly want to witness it either."

"Then what's your point?"

"My point is, you don't have to pretend you don't like him around us. We're your friends. You're allowed to show a little soul every now and then."

Annabeth just sighs. "Drew's already up my ass about it."

"Well, that's just Drew, and if she's not up in something then I'm pretty sure she grows a tail or something. She's all about the drama, especially when it concerns you."

Annabeth grimaces. "Yay."

"She's not that bad when you get used to her. You just need to, like, permanently wear ear plugs and not get offended at anything she says."

"She needs to come with her own warning sign."

"I absolutely agree. Come on, other hand."

Annabeth obediently rests her hand on Piper's thigh. Piper uncaps another nail polish and starts to paint her nails.

"You shouldn't be afraid to admit that you guys are friends," Piper says. "It's totally cool."

"I think you're the only one who thinks that."

"I shouldn't be."

Annabeth squirms. "Really, though? He's our enemy. We're literally torturing him."

"So? If you guys are friends you could argue that actually you're just helping with the torture."

"But I'm not, that's the problem." She sighs. "Besides. I think I ruined friends."

"How?"

Annabeth almost laughs at the genuine curiosity in Piper's voice. "Did you miss the part where I literally put burning hot metal into his arm?"

"He's pissy over that? Oh, come on. He needs to get over himself."

"You're unbelievable."

"I'm just saying. Anyone who ends a friendship over some mild torture probably wasn't that good of a friend in the first place."

"No, I think they're just completely reasonable and in the right." Annabeth drops her head against the wall, ignoring Piper's slightly scared squeak as she nudges the nail polish bottle. "I don't know, Piper. I don't even really want to be friends with him. It would ruin everything."

"You're being dramatic," Piper says. "It's not as if you're falling in love with him – now that would be a problem. But you have standards and also, what can harm can some comradery do? Like, love, I get. Romeo and Juliet. Brokeback Mountain. Other things I can't be bothered to name. But give me one example where friendship has ruined something."

"Fox and the Hound?"

"That doesn't count," Piper says, even though it absolutely does. "Point is, Bethie, you're allowed to be friends. Don't let sourpuss Drew ruin it for you."

Annabeth knows there's no point arguing with her on this one. "Okay, sure. Whatever."

But it's not 'whatever'. Because Percy hates her and Drew doesn't trust her and she doesn't trust Drew, especially not to keep her mouth shut about her doubts about Annabeth's leadership, and tomorrow she has to do it again. Piper's being idealistic. She thinks that Percy can forget what happened, and they can share a few jokes, and then without a single guilty thought on her conscience, Annabeth can stick a few more knives into his arms.

She can't have both. It needs to be one or the other. She just doesn't know how.

A/N hello everybody!

how are we all today? how have your weeks been? mine has been excellent but very, very hot (england has been hit by a heatwave and it's disgusting omg). also i had my show on sunday, which went very well! i wore a lot of makeup and a costume that, let's just say, was not very considerate of the weather, so i was so sweaty afterwards, but yoloswag it was fun nonetheless

anyway! i hope you liked this chapter! it's getting kinda intense now which is weird? but also quite fun so yay me (i sound like such a psychopath haha). i'd like to extend a thank you to my good pal rachel who was very supportive of the story and also asked super important, necessary, deep questions such as "how does percy go to the toilet" so thank you for bringing that up it's kinda been tackled haha

actually speaking of good pals! my friend Helena (GollyGeeWhiz) wrote me a BEAUTIFUL story a few days ago called Theater Kids Never Die and it's a theatre!au and it's gorgeous and beautiful and so amazing so please check that out it's actually amazing

anyway! that's really all i have for this week, so i hope you liked and please tell me what you thought! see you next saturday xx