Several minutes prior to Percy's arrival, Annabeth saw a living nightmare. His ugly face looked sort of familiar to the little girl, but before she could even scream for help or pinpoint where he had seen him, the attacker gagged her and tied her to a chair in less than one minute.

After locking the door and making sure that Annabeth didn't make a noise, the living nightmare pranced about the sibling's apartment, taking every morsel of food which Percy had bought a few days ago. The man's black bag jiggled with food and coins. Annabeth's heart pounded against her ribs, her mind racing with so many things that this ugly man with an abhorrent smell could do. Sweat poured over her face in big, cold drops although she was sure that the room temperature was just right. The ropes hurt her wrists so much that she thought of blood trickling to the floor...

"That kid sure got richer huh?" The man spoke in a muffled voice. When he faced Annabeth, the little girl saw beady black eyes gazing at her like she was some roasted turkey. On his right hand were two sandwiches and the other held a… syringe? "Can you do a favor for an old man, little girl?"

Annabeth immediately shook her head, her defiance taking over.

The man let out a low chuckle, then settled his sandwiches at a little table by the kitchen. Then he pulled out a revolver from his belt and brandished it at her. Annabeth sucked in a breath. The tears started falling down. Her feet pounded against the floor, her screams muffled by the gag.

"What if I say that I'll put a bullet in your brain so you could see your momma and poppy?"

Annabeth shook her head. Her silence masked her thoughts; she was suddenly glad for the gag on her mouth. (A little part of her got surprised at the change.) She remembered that she had always called her mother and father 'momma' and 'poppy'. Reyna and Tyson and Percy, too. Only the elder ones called Sally and Poseidon 'mom' and 'dad'.

How did he know? Was it just his wild guess because Annabeth was a youngster, still?

"Now there's a good girl." He gave her a chip-toothed grin, but he didn't lower the gun. "Mr. Gabe wants a few things done alright?"

Gabe-! P-Percy's stepfather-

She was five when she first met Percy. He was the real son of Sally Jackson, her being an adopted child from her abusive stepmom. Luke, Tyson, Reyna and Hylla had the same stories, only different on which one left or which parent inflicted pain. Sometimes it was even both.

Before, Percy had lived with Smelly Gabe. He even showed her a picture. He was present in Percy's nightmares as a smelly git, who only wanted to drink and play poker with his no good friends. He'd hit Percy a lot at daylight; make him do errands at the dead of the night.

Then Sally came with the police and the social workers, taking Percy with her and leaving Gabe with nothing but his dirty apartment.

Percy had burned the picture, but it wasneverreally gone in their minds.

"Stick this in your brother's neck." He waved the syringe up like a candy. Annabeth had just noticed something inside of it- a transparent liquid. "Doesn't matter where, just stick it but not too deep. Not too shallow either. I'll be watching you, so if you don't do it..."

He loaded his gun and shot something at the window. Down from the apartment complex someone screamed. Annabeth felt all her hopes sucked into the void. "I'll aim this thing at you and your brother dear. Mostly at your brother dear." He towered over her with a leering grin. Percy was right about calling him Smelly Gabe. He sure smelled like a walking sewer tank.

He inserted the syringe into her pants pocket, then pulled a loose shirt from Percy's bureau and put it on her. Gabe set her chair to face the door. Then with a last glance, he retreated to the dimmed kitchen.

Annabeth couldn't hide her disdain from this plight. Out of all things, she hated hurting anyone she loved. She hated being somebody's tool, too.

Was there a way out of here?

Could she and Percy escape?

Before she could reach for an answer, she heard the lock click.

Percy entered, eyes wide with confusion and fear.

She cried as he walked towards her. His eyes might've been as large as saucer plates, all the color in his face drained. Percy worked on the ropes, and Annabeth worked on calming herself. Once she had her hands free, she rubbed on her wrists and worked on getting the blood black to her hands.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Annabeth repeated like a mantra, lying to herself. "Everything will be okay. He's gone, he's gone..."

Percy held her at arm's length, searching her face for answers that weren't simply there.

Annabeth gulped her tears back. "S-someone entered w-when I-I was waiting for you..."

Percy got up to his feet and searched for his notepad and pen. After writing something on it, he showed it to Annabeth.

At the way his writing was scrawled on paper, it became obvious to Annabeth that her brother was more frightened than what he showed. "Who? Who came?"

The little girl sniffled, shaking her head. "Can't tell. He said he was going to kill me if- if I told you..." She looked at him, crying. "I'm sorry, Percy."

Percy embraced her, and she returned the gesture back. All the time she was crying, and Percy tried to smoothen her hair or pat her back. She liked being in his arms. It felt like nothing was going to hurt them.

"If you don't do it..."

She would be dead. She and Percy would be dead.

No one would mourn for them. It would seem that they never existed.

It felt as if a spirit had taken over Annabeth. She herself would never have done it right. She pulled the syringe out of her pocket. Percy didn't stir, didn't notice. She stabbed him with the syringe at the left side of his neck. Percy watched her, his mouth agape, eyes struck open with horror.

Annabeth had closed her eyes, her little hand closed tight around the body of the injecting vessel she could've broke it if it wasn't rubber.

Percy looked at her right before he fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Annabeth cried, mouthing, "I'm sorry, Percy."

Just when Percy was closing his eyes, Annabeth heard the footsteps from the kitchen.

"You could've won an Oscar!" Smelly Gabe exclaimed, clapping. Annabeth inched closer to her brother, wanting to protect him out of guilt. What had she done? Would Percy forgive her once he wakes up?

A horrible thought struck her, blinding her like lightning. Would he even wake up?

"Bah. It's just something that would make him sleep for a few hours," Gabe answered, seemingly reading her mind. "Now, kid, you gotta-"

The door busted open again. It was the girl from the corner shop: spiky haired, sort of goth girl. She was huffing mad as if she'd ran all the way to here-

How did she know her way here in the first place?

"Shit," Gabe cursed.

"Hey!" The girl looked like she was going to punch him. She did, but missed. The second punch landed on Gabe's jaw, and he reeled to the kitchen, cursing. Meanwhile, the girl was rubbing the red out of her knuckles. She grabbed a lampshade.

"You look after your brother," the girl said to Annabeth. Then she ran to chase Gabe only to see him leap down the fire exit.

(Annabeth could only think that he opened the kitchen window leading to the rickety staircase when he was hiding before Percy came.)

"Fuck off!" she shouted. Annabeth heard the faint sound of crashing glass.

Another person entered their apartment- a boy with his raven hair blown to one side.

"Wha- what happened," he murmured, walking towards Annabeth. His black eyes were trained on Percy, then on her. His eyes shone like crystals. "Are you okay?"

Annabeth couldn't help herself. She tackled him into a hug and sobbed on his chest. Surprisingly, the stranger didn't push her away. He brushed her hair back, smoothing it the same way Percy did on her clothes.

Annabeth wasn't okay. She'd never be okay.