"Icarus is flying too close to the sun
And Icarus's life, it has only just begun
This is how it feels to take a fall
Icarus is flying towards an early grave"
~ Icarus by Bastille
a/n: thank you for your support, it's meant the world to me. really.
Thank you to PandaMaster05 (Nico is the seventh, Annabeth thought about Luke being good again and being a family with Thalia and Luke, and spider webs softened her fall! Annabeth was more clever on not catching curses so the arai wasn't as vicious to her in Tartarus), Marshmallow29 (thank you! I really appreciate it), Guest (yeah, this fic is my baby. I think some people just give out hate - I actually asked them very nicely to PM me in the future but they gave a nonsensical response, ugh. I'm just so grateful for the all around support, and thanks for the hug; I really needed it.), AnnaUnicorn (I agree! This person is an adult too, and I wish that she uses her platform more responsibly. Never the less, I so appreciate your words, and I'm glad that you've been enjoying!), aveerup (thank you; hope you like the new chapter!), CrackHeadBlonde (good thing that I'm updating today - let me know what you think!), molmeal (thank you!), hancakes (I'm feeling better now, and posting the next chapter!), luv2read4reading (I did! Wow, this is so funny, and such a coincidence! I also post on ao3 under starlinks; hope you like tabula rasa!), and Henrie James Locker (thank you!) for your kind words and reviews. I really appreciate it.
lxxxvi.
It is not like Annabeth has never been kidnapped before.
In fact, this happened a few times to her already.
Once, a manticore took her away under Luke's orders, so he could trap her under the sky.
Another time, Hera decided that the perfect plan was to make her sleep for months before erasing almost all of her memory and putting her in the other Camp. The Romans always assumed that she was weak, being a daughter of Minerva, but she showed them to never underestimate her. Gaining Reyna's and Lupa's begrudging respect had not been easy.
And then there's this .
Annabeth tries her best to shrug off the soreness in her neck, but it lingers.
Sitting up, she realizes that she is dressed in some white linens. The ensemble includes a loose top and some large pants, and it reminds her of hospital gowns for how free-flowing everything is. Either way, it is most definitely not what she had worn to bed the night before.
She sighs.
Whoever decided to take her wait for the one night that her godly boyfriend is occupied. They know something about her and who she is, then.
What's more concerning is that when she tries to pray, there is no answer. Annabeth doesn't expect a reply from her mother, but she does from Percy.
The sand dollar she always keeps around her neck is gone, but she knows that it is more of a symbol these days than an actual communications device. She only has to think of the riptides to call upon the sea god, and he replies, always, without fail.
Except now.
Perseus. She tries again with his full name.
No answer.
Iulius. She tries with his Roman's form's name.
Silence.
Maybe he is still busy with the Solstice meeting and celebrations, but it still makes no sense that he won't at least try to answer her.
With a sigh, Annabeth surveys her surroundings.
She is in a cell, that's not of any doubt. The metal bars in front of the little sliver of window at the corner of the room is a tell-tale sign. There is a hint of the night outside, but it is difficult to see through the fog.
The room itself is bathed in blinding white fluorescent lights, and the smell of strong, soury, acidic antiseptics lingering in the air continues to burn her nostrils.
Her world only spins a little when Annabeth sits up, and when she slips off of the steel lab table (where there is a measly pillow - one identical to what she would lay on during annual pap smears at the clinic), Annabeth is glad that she found no restraints on her hands or feet.
No restraints, save for the metallic wristband that beeps a steady green light. The light reflects weakly off of her skin.
She tugs against it but it doesn't give. It's not like she really expected it to, anyway.
Annabeth paces the room slowly, glancing around.
For all intents and purposes, the room is well equipped with medical supplies. It reminds her of a cross between what a research center and a hospital would look like; there just isn't anything sharp.
In the corner, there's a monitor (similar to one that her dentist used years ago when she had to get her wisdom teeth extracted), and behind a make-shift curtain, there is a toilet and a sink. There's also a chair posed directly next to the lab table / bed she woke up in.
It seems like she'll have to settle in. It'll be her new home, at least until the end of the Winter Solstice celebrations, whenever that ends.
Maybe after the night, she'll be able to get into communications with someone who can help.
That is, if Annabeth doesn't find a way to break out herself first.
lxxxvii.
It's a blessing that she has a small window, really, because the answer of where she is located is easy to deduce.
She's been waiting for the sun to rise so that she can count the days, but it never did.
But it has definitely been at least three days, if approximating by the frequency of her meals is an appropriate measure of time.
So, it can only mean one thing: Annabeth is in Alaska, the Land Beyond the Gods. She has only been here once, as a part of a quest with Hazel and Frank. It hadn't been particularly enjoyable.
This is horrible news, because if her exploration in the past three days has been anything to go by, this place is sealed shut. There is no hope of escape.
Fuck.
lxxxviii.
"This will just be a pinch, sorry," Clark apologizes, and Annabeth nods.
It's not that she owes him any manners, but she much, much prefers the burly man (who also likes to wear sunglasses indoors, as she observed) to the other. For one, Clark doesn't derive sadistic pleasure in abusing her as the other man does.
She winces, and Clark gives her a sympathetic look. Annabeth looks away.
He draws her blood into the quart size bag, and when he is done, Clark gently takes out the needle before putting a bandage on her inner arm, releasing the elastic band. He dumps the used syringe in the sharps bin on the wall across him.
"You know the drill," he says, and she does.
This is the third time that she had her blood drawn within five days, and while Annabeth is not too worried about her body replenishing itself, she has not been fed that well. She has to take care to not stand up too abruptly, as Clark has suggested, and get some rest whenever she can.
She's captured, but she still has her dignity. Annabeth doesn't want to pass out on the floor, especially if Jared were to visit. Jared doesn't even consider her human.
The door opens with a click, and she recoils with a start.
Seeing her reaction, Clark sighs subtly at her, making a I hate this too face, before composing himself and smiling at Jared, "I thought I was in charge of the tests today?"
"There's been a change of plans." Jared smiles, too, but it is one without feeling.
"Oh? Well, I believe that Miss Chase needs her rest here. I just drew some blood for the labs, and she hasn't had lunch yet."
Annabeth tries to flash him a nod of appreciation, but Jared just chuckles, as if Clark is a child who's just made a joke that warranted some condescending acknowledgement.
"She is a terrorist , Clark, so it would do well for you to actually remember that."
"I am not a terrorist-"
Jared ignores her. "I'll take it from here," he says to his colleague. This is not a request , he seems to say.
Clark holds his gaze for a moment before sighing, adjusting his sunglasses. It's become apparent to Annabeth that Jared outranks Clark here. "I'll be outside," he seems to address Annabeth, trying to bring her some sort of assurance.
Annabeth does not feel comforted.
Clark ducks out, and the door clicks shut.
Jared sits comfortably on the chair next to her.
"So," she starts dryly, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Oh," Jared says, drawing out the vowel, "I just want to gain some insight to your... activities. "
"My activities ?"
"You are… Getting rather intimate with one of the creatures that we are trying to capture, so we want to learn more about you." Jared drawls, as if this is all a game to him and he is immensely enjoying himself.
"What?" Annabeth asks. She looks at Jared; he comes without any equipment or probes. Interesting.
This is the first time that anyone's tried to make conversation with her since she arrived. So far, it's been tests, after tests, after tests.
They would take her blood every other day, force vitamins (that's what Clark called the pills - they can be any drugs for all she knows) down her throat, and make her run on a treadmill like a gods damned hamster as they measure her physique against a set of pre-defined metrics. It is not worse than anything she's experienced previously on quests, but it certainly has not been the most pleasant thing to do.
She misses her apartment and her job and her friends and Percy and normalcy.
Jared smiles. "He says that you're a daughter of Athena , that you are supposed to be wise. Smart. Cunning, even. And you can't figure this out?"
"He?"
"Samuel Douglas sends his regards."
Sam, Triton's son? Annabeth's mind reels.
"He was a nice boy, Sam." Jared continues, pondering, "despite being half of that inhuman monster , this boy has some sense in his head. He knows what's best for himself. If you do, too, you would tell me what I need to know. Then, maybe, we can consider letting you leave." Jared laughs like he's just told himself a funny inside joke and it chills Annabeth.
Carefully, Annabeth weighs her next words. "He traded information about me for his freedom? Why ?"
"Oh, I'm not sure, except he says that you're fucking his dad and he's not very happy about that," Jared looks distastefully at her.
Ah , Annabeth realizes with a start. So Sam's bitter, and Jared thinks I'm a whore. And this must have happened a while ago, before Percy told Sam that Sam's Triton's son.
What a fun situation to navigate around.
"So you know about me, and my relationship," Annabeth probes, not wanting to say Percy's name. She isn't fully sure that Jared and company are fully in the know of the world of Greek gods.
Under the harsh, contrasting lights, Jared looks every bit like a proper monster, even though Annabeth can tell that he is fully mortal. The glint of enjoyment in his eyes makes Annabeth feel sick to her stomach.
His pressed white suit nearly glows, and the rest of his ensemble is equally pristine. Annabeth feels more threatened than she has in a very long time (and maybe she has grown much more complacent than she ever has the right to be as a demigod since she became intimate with Percy), and Jared, bearing his teeth, invites her to the other corner of the room, where the monitor is.
"This was one of the most curious cases I've seen, and it remains so even twelve years later," the agent plays a tape of her falling from the St. Louis Arch into the river below, and then walking out a short moment later.
She gapes. Annabeth has not expected to see this.
"Until history repeats itself just four months ago," Jared ignores her and pushes on. He presses a button on the remote. The scenery on the monitor changes; then, she falls from an impossible height on top of the Atlantic Ocean, and disappears right before she hits the water. Jared freezes the frame. "We wanted to know how this was possible, but we couldn't find you. You destroyed a national monument at twelve, and aside from a brief appearance from a police report we found in Los Angeles, there were no records of you."
Annabeth can't help but let out a little smile.
Jared doesn't find that amusing.
"You have no idea how much money the government wasted to solve this little stunt you pulled. Do you think that this is funny ?" Jared sneers, "But you are clever, and I will give you that: we finally found you this January, and I'll give you credit for how you disguise yourself among humans and how you kept thwarting our plans."
"I am human," Annabeth interjects, her brows furrowing together. "And the monsters destroyed the Arch, it wasn't me."
Jared ignores her. "And then we realized. You have that creature protecting you. Setting its eyes on you. That's why you lived. They call themselves gods, and you are half of one."
"They are gods."
"Gods and religions are myths. This entity you're with," Jared waves his arm and presses something on the remote. The picture on the screen shifts to one of Percy, one where the two of them walked the streets of Manhattan, hand in hand, "it is something else, and we need to understand it and harness its power."
"You have no idea what you are playing with. Percy is a literal god . And however much human arrogance you have, you can't even touch him."
"Then we will keep destroying this faith until there is nothing left. Creatures like this, they can be killed."
The confidence and conviction from Jared's speech leaves Ananbeth unsettled, to say the least. "What do you mean?"
The man smiles, but he doesn't elaborate further.
lxxxix.
Victory comes in the form of a crack in the wall.
Inspiration strikes Annabeth when she sees Clark put in another syringe needle in the sharps box just the day prior, and she waits until her last meal of the day is served before trying to shake the hazardous box loose.
Surprisingly, it comes easily off the wall; she knows from what few science classes she has taken in school that this container has to be replaced on a regular basis.
She had wanted to try and find a razor in the box (and she did, not before getting a nasty cut under the nail of her pointer finger, which hurts like a motherfucker), and hid it behind the toilet.
When she knelt by the wall to hang the box, Annabeth hears the hint of a wail.
It's a familiar wailing, coupled by the occasional mention of a "sonny."
It's Echidna, and Annabeth hasn't encountered her in twelve years.
"Mother of monsters," Annabeth breathes into the crack in the wall as she puts the box on the floor next to her.
The wailing stops for a second.
Annabeth scrambles sideways as some drops of acid sprinkles through the wall, sizzling the material around the crack. The crack expands slightly, and she gets a better view of the occupant in the cell next to her.
She carefully backs away from the wall, slightly, so Echidna can have a clear view of her.
" You ," Echidna growls. "You killed my sonny."
Annabeth supposes that she did ( twice ), but she raises her arms in defense, gesturing at the blinking restraint on her wrist. "I'm here as a prisoner, they took your sonny. And Sphinx, too." Annabeth adds for good measure . She is almost completely certain that these men planted the Sphinx and the manticore in the mall back in Albany for her to discover.
"Really?"
"Really," Annabeth confirms.
"I did see them capture him," Echidna chokes back a sob.
Annabeth's mind flashes the time she encountered the chimera in May, half a year ago. She thinks of the people who pulled the big bronze cage around the block as she fought, and with a start, Annabeth realizes that those people belonged to the same group of agents who's taken her here.
They all wore white suits.
"Maybe your sonny is still out there," Annabeth says carefully, thinking fast, "maybe if we escape, we can find him."
Echidna considers, her fair eyes squinted at Annabeth, trying to detect a lie.
Annabeth squares her shoulders and looks back, evenly. Technically, even if she did kill both the chimera and the Sphinx during the past six months, these white suited mortals put these monsters in her way. They did indirectly capture the children of Echidna, and lead them to their deaths.
A couple of heartbeats pass and Echidna backs slightly away from the crack, satisfied. Annabeth can see her snake tail slither around on the ground. "Alright, daughter of Athena. Tell me about your plan."
** include M rated content for violence **
It must have been the ninth day (or tenth, depending on how long she passed out for before waking up in her cell) since she arrived, and Annabeth knows that today is as good as any other day for her and Echidna to break out of the cell.
Jared was supposed to show, but Clark does instead.
"Where is Jared?" Annabeth asks, trying to appear nonchalant. Her throat is dry. She doesn't want Clark to die.
If Clark notices her unease, he doesn't say anything. She can't see his true emotion anyways, because he's still wearing those sunglasses of his. "I gave him a bottle of whiskey and asked to take the shift; I know he doesn't treat you well."
"Thanks," Annabeth squares her jaw balls her fist. It shouldn't matter that this man is kind to her. She can't back off, now. She's made a deal with Echidna. This is her only chance at getting out.
Annabeth's heart beats wildly when she takes a seat on the metal table, the steel not feeling as cold and impersonal when she touches it. Her own palms are made of sweat and heat.
Clark turns to take a seat, and, as predicted, the chair collapses. Annabeth has worked through the night prior, using the razor she found to unscrew the chair.
Not waiting for him to react, Annabeth takes the hollow metal tube that was once the chair's leg and drives the end with the shards (that she shaped with other sharps in the box) into Clark's stomach.
Clark struggles and tries to get his gun, but it's too late.
Annabeth wrestles the weapon out from his grasp; her palm is slippery with sweat and the gun clatters away. It doesn't matter . Clark is a large burly man, and perhaps they had assumed that she lacks strength because she is a woman, but she is also a demi god . A daughter of Athena, no less.
Her strength is nothing to scoff at.
Clark was kneeling, but he falls completely.
Red blossoms out from his midsection, and it spreads, and it spreads. It's mesmerizing, maybe, but Annabeth just wants to throw up, especially when she hears the gurgle of blood that Clark makes with his mouth. She is reminded of all the lives she had already taken before.
But there is hardly time to think.
She briefly considers using the razor to make the end of life easier for Clark, because she can still see the twitches of his fingers (maybe he was trying to call backup), but the door clicks open and Jared flies in, glaring at her with unfocused eyes.
He shoots, and she barely dodges, and he marches in with a machete.
Annabeth's eyes widen, holding up her hands in defense. A razor is no match for a knife.
She backs up slowly, and Jared grins , barely taking note of his dying colleague wheezing on the floor.
It's psychotic, but who is Annabeth to judge at this point?
Annabeth backs up, more, noting that she's stepping into a pool of blood. Her toes feel sticky once her socks are soaked with Clark's blood. Clark, who lays by her feet, still struggling to breathe and gurgling blood. Oh gods.
Focus .
"You've done it. You've proven yourself as a monster. And they think you're just a little girl. You're a weapon and a terrorist and I've been right all along." Jared says, tracing his finger down the machete.
Annabeth can smell the whiskey from his breath. He may not be that clear minded at the moment, but from the short distance between the two, he won't miss.
"I'm just impressed that you managed to capture Echidna, the mother of monsters , too." Annabeth says, loudly.
Names have power.
"How did you know-" Jared starts asking, but a spray of acid came from the crack of the wall behind him, and upon contact, it hisses and dissolves his skin.
Annabeth takes the chance to roll across the surface of the lab table to avoid being caught by the machete Jared is slashing and waving around in the last seconds of his life. Some of her skin comes in contact with the little drops of acid that managed to land on the table, but she bits her lip and tries her best to ignore the burns and pains. She ducks down and waits for a few more seconds.
She can hear Jared convulse on the ground before stilling, and Echidna's cackles on the other side of the crack echoes through their cells. The crack is much bigger now, with the acid burning through the wall. While Annabeth was working on the chair last night, she instructed Echidna to chip away at the layer of protective sealant the agents coated on the wall. Without it, the acid burns through easily.
Turning back to the agents, Annabeth wastes no time.
She checks for Clark's pulse, thanking the gods that he is finally, finally dead, before using her fingers to brush his eyelids close and fixing the crooked sunglasses to cover his eyes. Then, Annabeth finds the two men's guns and badges, and hesitates for a slight second before handing one of each to Echidna through the crack.
The guns are celestial bronze, but Annabeth wastes no time to consider the implications of that.
Turning back, she strips the socks and shoes off of Jared (who seems to have smaller feet than Clark), tears off her own blood soaked socks, and puts the clean pair on her feet. They are slightly too large, but they'll make do for the moment.
She thinks a little more and undresses Jared, taking his shirt, his jacket, and his pants for herself. It's dead winter in Alaska; Annabeth wants to last.
When everything is set, Annabeth clicks the door open gingerly. Echidna does, too.
If the agents didn't know about what's happened (from the commotion or from Jared's and Clark's last efforts to communicate, if there were any), they surely do now. Once Annabeth leaves her room, the device on her wrist blinks red.
But security is strangely scarce, and Echidna and her makes it all the way to the front door of the lab. Annabeth swipes with Clark's badge, and the door opens to the frigidity of the environment outside. One more step and she will be free .
"I can't go," Echidna shakes her head suddenly, her tail curls beneath her, coiling and uncoiling agitatedly.
"What?" Annabeth isn't sure if she hears Echidna correctly. Her eyes dart to the darkness outside and back to the mother of monsters.
Annabeth thinks about how she'll hotwire one of the agents' cars; maybe there are even some food or drinks instead for her.
"My sonny needs me, I can't leave him." Echidna says with finality, looking at Annabeth as if she wouldn't understand.
Annabeth wants to laugh, and bark at her, and to tell her that her sonny is in Tartarus because Percy sent the chimera there in May , but she stops herself at the last minute.
She thinks about the agents that are coming any second, and how, if they have celestial bronze guns, they can easily kill her. Echidna can serve as an excellent distraction.
But Echidna does not wait for her to make the decision anyway; she turns and slithers back into the corridors.
"Take care," the monster's voice echoes down the call, and Annabeth pushes herself into the opposite direction, into the cold , knowing that she is the true monster for sending Echidna in a hopeless, deathly hunt.
a/n: how do you define what a hero vs. what a monster is, anyway?
also, holy fuck, this chapter is just shy of 4k words. wow. please leave a review & your theories down below! would love to hear what you think :)