Annabeth

From Suffern, we left the dense forest and rarely used roads; instead, we turned onto highways full of cars and trucks and constant movement. It's nearly impossible to keep track of everything, so I forced myself to relax, only occasionally glancing into the mirrors to see if any cars were following us or sticking too close.

We were halfway there, merging into different lanes and passing cars and exits. The radio played the newest hit songs, and Rachel hummed along, tapping her fingers against the wheel to the beat of each song.

I sank back into the seat, turning to look out the window and watch the world go by. Nothing bad had happened to me since I escaped. I wasn't being followed, I wasn't running for my life, I wasn't afraid. It felt too good to be true, but I knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"How far do you think we are?" I asked, mind anxiously turning over images of panicked friends and family.

Rachel glanced at the GPS on her phone. "We have around two more hours to go, depending on traffic. But we'll get there before noon."

I nodded and sat back again, drumming my fingers on my thighs. A week full of fear was coming to an end. Everything that happened to me felt like something from a fever dream; terrifying but hazy and half remembered. The details were a little lost in the panic and adrenaline, and while it seemed to drag on endlessly while I was tied to that chair, now that it's over, I felt like it sped by too fast for me to really understand what happened. And now that I was so close to being home again, I seemed to be stuck in a limbo where time kept dragging on but never went anywhere.

"You know where you're going when we get there?" Rachel asked, breaking the steady silence.

"To the police so they know I'm fine and can notify my dad."

Rachel looked surprised. "Not going to your family or friends first?"

I shrugged. "I'd like to, but it'd be better if I went to the police first."

"Huh," she said. "I would've sprinted to my friends first chance I got." She glanced at me before her eyes flicked back to the road. "What are your friends like?"

I looked at her for a moment. Why would she want to know? But it wasn't a heavy topic and would help pass the time. So I hummed in thought, wondering how to describe them and all the things we've done.

"Well, there's Percy," I began, "He's an idiot. To be fair, though, I am too, since I didn't notice we were flirting for months until we started dating."

Rachel laughed. "Really? Months?"

I grinned. "Months."

"I've gotta hear this story later."

I laughed along with her, thinking back to all the times we were so sure that we were just friends. Wow we were oblivious.

"So yeah, he's an idiot, but he means well and will fight anyone for his friends. He's so loyal it's gotten him in trouble. He's also a swimmer and is obsessed with the sea. I think he told me once that he wants to study marine biology in college."

Rachel whistled. "Ambitious."

"Tell me about it."

"What about you?"

I didn't even need to think about it. "Architecture," I answered, "I'm not even going to consider something else, I know that's what I want to study."

Rachel flicked on her right turn signal and checked behind her before changing lanes. "Damn," she said, "You've already got things figured out."

I shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I still have to apply for colleges and scholarships and look into where I can work after I graduate."

She made a disagreeing noise in the back of her throat and said, "Not true! So many people don't know what they want to study, even when they go to college."

"What about you? Art?"

"Eh. Maybe. Not really sure what career I can get from that besides Starving Artist."

I made to argue and start brainstorming jobs that relied heavily on art, but Rachel cut me off before I even had a chance to do anything more than open my mouth.

"Tell me about your other friends," she said, so I settled back down.

"Well," I said, "Thalia is my best friend, aside from Percy. She's really hot-headed and has gotten into way to many fights."

"Did she win though?"

"Every single one," I said with pride. Rachel whistled and nodded at me to continue. "She's easily distracted but does everything she can to help her friends. Wouldn't trust her to drive, but I trust her with everything else."

Rachel urged me to continue and tell stories about the dumb things I've done with all my friends. The atmosphere in the car lightened considerably, the last remnants of the night's stress fading away to laughter over a tale about Luigi and Leo's hate for him. Thinking about them happy and carefree replaced the image of them stressed and tired, wondering if I was okay.

Sometimes, my wrists and ankles would sting with the pull of movement, acting as a reminder of what I'm coming from, but Rachel was quick to distract me, regaling me with tales of her misbehavior at a private school for young ladies.

"Everyone's so prim and proper," she complained, "They won't even let me get paint on my fingers! So naturally, I had to paint the doors to each classroom with dumb faces and middle fingers."

"How have you not been expelled yet?"

"My parents paid too much. That's not gonna stop me from trying though!"

The cheerfulness Rachel embodied had me laughing until I got stitches in my side. All the while, she kept driving, getting me closer and closer to home. The stress of the week fell away from my shoulders in the truck as pop songs played on the radio and we dramatized stories of our lives. I felt like I was going to be okay. I would come out on top of this and nothing would pull me back down.

Rachel pulled off the highway, and soon apartment buildings and corner stores began to look familiar. I took over, ignoring the GPS and giving directions to get us to the police station nearest to my apartment.

Like any other day, the parking lot was near full and people go in and out of the building with a sense of rushed purpose. Rachel pulled into the first open spot she saw and gently brought the truck to a stop. I pushed open the door and shook feeling back into my legs. When I stepped around the truck and properly looked at the building, it suddenly towered over me. I swallowed heavily and wondered if this was really the end.

Rachel grabbed my arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze before guiding me to the entrance. She pulled open a door and pushed me through. I stumbled for a moment, wincing at the harsh tugs the bandages laid on my ankles, then straightened. With Rachel at my back, I pushed through a few people and grabbed onto the edge of the reception desk for support.

"How can I help you?" the receptionist asked.

"You know that kidnapped girl Annabeth Chase?" I answered, "Yeah, well. I'm her."

Percy

The three of us were a wreck.

Messy, tangled hair, dark circles stamped under our eyes, pale complexions; we would look more in place at a funeral. Or in a grave.

I felt like a part of me died after that phone call. Has it really only been a week since this all began? It's felt like years that kept drawing out longer and longer.

I shifted in my seat, tapping my foot against the floor, rapid and uncontrollable. Thalia, who normally stomped on my foot when I tapped it too much, barely glanced at it, lost in her thoughts with her fingers drumming on her thigh.

Mr. Chase, on the other hand, didn't move. He kept unnaturally still, staring down at his clasped hands. There was a defeated air around him, and while I could understand the stress and fear he must have been feeling, anger made my hands curl into fists when I looked at him. Thalia and I worked hours without rest and barely any food because we refused to give up on Annabeth. Mr. Chase? He gave up and looked like he had just gotten news of Annabeth's death.

Which wouldn't happen. I wouldn't let it happen.

The point was the three of us were a mess and were probably two steps away from collapsing from exhaustion.

All I could hear now was my heart pounding painfully in my chest, drowning out the sounds of the station. We were stuck in a waiting game, helpless to do anything but wonder what will happen in the next few days.

Would the police find Annabeth? Would they find her kidnappers and arrest them? Would Annabeth be okay and relatively unharmed?

The thought of Annabeth being beaten and broken and covered in slow drying blood made something dark and cruel rise up in me; I would happily kill anyone who hurt her. I would do anything to keep her safe, untouched by the wounds I was all too familiar with (memories I kept hidden away came forward, showing Annabeth with every injury Gabe had inflicted on me).

My hands started to shake. I kept them curled in tight fists, crossing my arms across my stomach and grabbing the ends of my shirt. My foot kept tapping.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

The thought wouldn't leave my mind: Annabeth bruised and bloody, Annabeth with the same wild, guarded eyes I had all of middle school, Annabeth curled up against a wall with her arms raised to protect herself. Gabe hurling empty beer bottles at me, the shattered glass catching on my arms, the near permanent ache in my ribs, hands grabbing my wrists with force strong enough to break them.

Gabe, Gabe, Gabe, Gabe-

I pushed the memories back, trying to repress them again. I had gone years without having to think about it or remember every detail of the pain he caused me. I was able to recover on my own and learn to trust and smile and care again. And all it took was one thought to bring it all crashing down.

Annabeth isn't with Gabe, I told myself. She's fine. She has to be fine. He can't hurt her.

The words didn't help with the tightness in my chest, but I repeated them over and over and over again until I felt I wasn't a second away from a breakdown.

I curled into myself a bit, tightening my arms around my stomach. It was a habit I was never able to kick: in moments of fear and panic, anytime I was being overwhelmed with something awful, I would curl into myself to make myself a smaller target.

It was another lovely gift from Gabe. Associating those feelings with him made me react as if he was there, beer bottle raised and drunk eyes bright and cold.

That image I couldn't force from my mind. It stayed, refusing to disappear, and I wanted to get hurt just to end to terrifying anticipation of the pain.

No. I didn't want that. I refused to want that. I wanted to be at an empty pool and sink to the bottom, letting the water muffle the outside world and quiet my thoughts. I wanted the water to pull me down with greedy hands an hold me down on the bottom. I wanted to stay under until my lungs burned with a desperate need for air and bubbles escaped from my lips. I wanted to stay until I almost drown, then push myself up to the air and blink away the black haze that covered the edges of my vision. I wanted to let everything fall under the weight of the water stealing my breath, my life, until all I could focus on was surviving.

But I didn't want pain. I didn't want Gabe. I didn't want Annabeth to be hurt and turned into a shell of herself.

And really, I just wanted Annabeth back. She was everything good and bright in the world, so full of fire and love and ambition. Somehow, Annabeth pulled me out of the last remnants of the ghost I was in middle school and made me laugh until I cried. She gave me something to live for and something to love. She gave me the world. As soon as she came back, I would do my best to give her the same.

A sudden rush of voices and energy pulled me out of my mind. I looked up and uncurled myself, watching the officers move around each other with practiced ease, all while yelling to others and calling out others.

I shared a confused glance with Thalia, then turned my attention back to bodies rushing passed up.

"Mr. Chase?" a voice called out above the noise. "Percy? Thalia?" Deputy Klairson, a familiar face I hadn't seen for most of the week, appeared before us. She was smiling, a look of relief on her face. "Annabeth is safe."

Thalia and I jumped to our feet, the words sending sudden energy to our tired bodies.

"How do you know?" I asked, almost scared of believe her, "Did you find her?"

"No, she found us. Annabeth just arrived at the station. She's safe."

The tension I had been holding in my shoulders all week disappeared. Besides me, Thalia collapsed back into her seat, letting out a breathless laugh. I joined her, tears filling my eyes.

She's safe, she's safe, she's safe.

A/N: i actually had Annabeth's part done at the beginning of the month, but i somehow fractured my pinkie and couldn't type bc it hurt. but it's mostly healed now! so yeah. here u go.

we're almost done. i'm planning to have a few chapters dedicated to how they recover from this. but thanks for encouraging me to keep writing all these years.