Chapter 3: Ninety-Nine

Percy couldn't be sure how long he stayed in that miserable six by six-foot dirty gray cell. All he knew was that he was really yearning for a change of scenery– among other things, of course.

He had begun to heal more, at least. Every once and awhile, a random traitor half-blood would bring him a moldy piece of bread and some water, jeering at him from the other side of the bars. Percy ignored them the best he could, though, and focused on rationing the water he received, using half of it for hydration and the rest for pouring on his wounds to heal them; he hoped Annabeth would approve.

While staying completely isolated in a tiny box of a cell for days on end didn't appeal to either the ADHD or claustrophobic part of him, Percy certainly would prefer it over the visitors he would receive.

They would never do anything too extreme, likely too cautious to damage too much of the body their lord plans to possess. They never asked any questions, never even trying to keep a pretense of interrogation. No, the only things they said were taunts. They tell him how they planned to attack Camp Half-Blood and tantalize him with the idea of freedom.

Percy wondered idly as he slumped against the cement wall of his cell if there were any other prisoners in the position as him, stuck along this hallway. He never heard any noises, though, other than the echo of his own screams as they bounced back towards him. He never felt more pathetically alone in his life.

He likely hit rock bottom when he began to talk and sing to himself. Maybe he was getting a bit loopy by having conversations with himself and, sure, but through the aching pain and dulled thought process, Percy decided to blame it on the moldy bread. Like, come on, just because he's a prisoner doesn't mean he lost his right to eating actual, edible food.

The best example of when he would sing, though, was right about now, when Percy sang a classic but rather annoying road tune: "56 cans of coke on the wall, 56 cans of coke, take one down, pass it around, 55 cans of coke on the wall!" Yeah, singing about cans of coke rather than bottles of beer sounded far more appealing to him.

Though he did actually get some water, it wasn't nearly enough to quench his thirst burning down his throat. His words came out scratchy and rough, even more out of tune than normal since he sounded like a broken record smashed against a rock before getting taped back together. He wasn't really sure how long he'd been singing for either. He must've sung from 99 to zero at least twenty times by now.

He felt tears prickle to his eyes even with his need for more hydration. Is this what it had really come to? Listlessly singing road tones as he waited for his enemies to destroy his camp? His home? He had tried to use his powers to escape. Tried to rediscover his Earthshaker powers once more and destroy the walls around him. Tried to manipulate the small amount of water they gave him to rust the bars of his cell to weaken them. Nothing worked.

Every time Percy tried to use any sort of power, even attempted, the tug he usually felt in his gut would erupt in pain. His own body refused him. It refused to allow him to call upon his powers, not even for the desperate situation he was in. He seemed to have utilized all his reserves in Mount Saint Helens.

And while most of Percy's worries lied with the fate of the camp, he also wondered if anyone noticed he was missing. It would be a childish response to assume that everyone was desperately out and about looking for him, worriedly thinking about him in their every breath, but was too juvenile to hope at least somewhere was thinking of him? For all his mom knew, he was at camp, but maybe Chiron told her that Percy was on a quest. That idea wasn't as appealing as Percy originally thought, however, when his mind imagined Sally agitatedly pacing the kitchen while biting her nails at the idea of Percy in constant danger. Whatever danger his mother would imagine was likely far better than the situation he was in now, but he hoped that either way she just thought he was safe and sound in Cabin Three.

As for the inhabitants at camp, all they knew was that he was on a quest in Labyrinth.

They had no clue of the imminent attack and Percy's capture. Just like every other quest Percy seemed to go on, they probably expected him to come back with barely a scratch and another victory under his belt. He had failed them this time, though, and he wouldn't blame them if they didn't even try to find him when they realized he was missing; he wasn't worth it.

He also thought of Grover and Tyson. He left them alone to search for Pan in that horror of a maze. He left them alone. His brother and his best friend. Only now did he see what a mistake that was. Anything could be happening to them right in this very second and he wouldn't know. In fact, he couldn't know anymore—the empathy link no longer worked.

When the lightbulb hit for him to try to use it, he had only just gotten his second moldy piece of bread and now he was on his sixth. He had been hesitant to even try to contact Grover. Afterall, what good would it even do him besides worrying his friend? He didn't even know where he was, so how would he ask Grover to save him? And what if he accidentally distracts Grover while he's fighting or when he is tracking Pan's scent?

In the end, he considered that Grover might have felt some of Percy's pain of almost dying from the eruption and wanted to know if his friend was still okay.

He attempted to reach out in his mind, trying to find that string, that buzz of foreign feeling that connected their minds together. It wasn't the first time he had done it, but Percy quickly found himself struggling to rediscover the familiar connection that rested in his mind for so long. He had to dig so deep into his mind that the concentration seemed to hurt his brain by the time he felt it. It was different when he felt it, though. Weak. Broken. All he could sense were the remnants of the shattered connection.

That meant the only person with the slightest idea of what happened to Percy was Annabeth, who also happened to be the person he was most worried about.

He had last seen her escaping the volcano back into the Labyrinth where she had hopefully been on her way to get help from Hephestus, but he had left her virtually alone with nothing but a mechanical spider to follow—and she hates spiders.

Percy prayed to the gods she was okay and cursed himself for not being with her. They were supposed to keep each other safe, but now that he separated himself from her by pulling his Earthshaker stunt, he had no idea how long he had just left her alone for.

Repeatedly, he dreamed of a girl with ashy hair, usually singing with golden curls, and he saw her limping around in the darkness calling out his name. Every time, he wanted to call back and tell her he was okay or run to her to see what ailed her to limp, but he was frozen. He was torturously stuck to watch her struggle. It was almost alien to see her struggle; he didn't like it.

When he finally got to "zero cans of coke on the wall," Percy's voice was so broken that his words were barely audible. His throat begged for water, it begged him to stop singing, but he was so lost drowning in his misery and madness that he barely noticed.

"99 cans of coke on the wall, 99 cans of coke…"

Annabeth was having a bad day. Well, correction: Annabeth has been having some bad days. Ever since she got back to camp two weeks ago, she had been searching, waiting, and even praying for any sign at all that Percy was alive.

She would dream she was back in the Labyrinth alone, calling out his name into the darkness as she searched for him, filthy and injured but hopefully for a call back. In the morning, she would awake with disappointment. Her dream was just like her situation at camp: no sign, no answer.

The campers soon began to lose hope after a week, shaking their heads in disappointment each time they looked out towards the beach or arena and didn't see Percy there. He meant a lot to them, but everyone learned over the years of being a demigod that all heroes rise and fall.

They all informed Sally of what had happened yesterday, Chiron breaking the news on an Iris Message while Annabeth just sniffled beside him. Sally was such a good mother; she didn't deserve this. It should've been Annabeth that stayed in the mountain; her father has two more kids anyways. Sally didn't say much, just blinking a bit with disbelief and giving a few nods. Annabeth was sure Sally wasn't sure what to believe, likely struggling to stay in tune with her motherly instincts.

Annabeth herself was also struggling. She couldn't give up on Percy yet. Her mind scolded her, reminding her of every logical explanation on how he couldn't have survived. Her gut told a different story, however, and she couldn't but refuse to think he was dead.

Today, they burned his shroud. The whole time she and others spoke, Annabeth scanned the edges of the amphitheater, waiting to see someone with messy black hair and sea green eyes. They would strut right in there, unaware of what was happening and give her a smirk mischievous enough to rival the devil's all while saying, "What? You didn't miss me, did you?" He would likely never let her live it down, but Annabeth would rush from her spot the moment she would see him to envelope him in a hug.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, after the burning, she went and sat at the dock by the lake. She threw pebbles into the water and watched them ripple across the glassy surface. The sunset reflected off of the water, gleaming bright with red and oranges. A beautiful view.

She began to sing a tune. She wasn't sure where it came from, knowing she'd never recalled hearing such a butchered version of it before. Perhaps a dream. She imagined a rough voice singing it, harsh and scratchy, but decided she didn't like that.

Annabeth sang in contrast, softly and melodically for only the water to hear, "99 cans of coke on the wall, 99 cans of coke…"

Author's Note: Sorry that it's been so long since the last update. I swear I'm not planning on abandoning. I've been very busy with sports and school, so I haven't been able to write as often as I would prefer. I know this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but I swear they'll be more coming!