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~GoGreen43

Taken

Chapter 12- Malcolm

-Annabeth POV-

"She's a pretty one, ain't she?"

"Better than the last one, that's for sure."

I was being dragged through the halls of the prison Jackson and I were being held in. I knew that much because of the tightening, pulling sensation that coursed through my arms, and the feeling of traction from my bare feet.

I also knew that the two idiots dragging me thought I was unconscious so I didn't risk opening my eyes. Until I heard something that made an old idea pop into my head.

The sound of a radio.

"Is the subject back in place yet? Over."

White noise echoed throughout the hallway, and one man that was dragging me stopped in place and sighed. "Damn officials. Can't do shit right around those assholes."

A deep chuckle sounded in response. "They're assholes alright. Every last one of 'em."

"I repeat, is the subject back in place? Over!'

"Yeah, Yeah, we're on our way. Subject is detained and unconscious, sir. Over."

And with that the dragging continued, and I was starting to get annoyed of being in the presence of such idiots. If they didn't stop talking about their sexual adventures and what they thought Luke should do to me, I was going to kill them.

All of the sudden, the dragging stopped, and my upper body was dropped to the ground. I hit my head pretty hard, and from the previous injuries I had sustained, I had to hide my wince of pain.

"Think the other one is awake yet?"

"Nah- Luke hit him pretty hard. Doubt a pretty boy like that had ever gotten hit like that in his life."

Jackson? Luke knocked him out?

"He had no choice but to knock him out after he went ballistic 'bout this princess here. Wonder if he's screwing her?"

"Doubt it. Luke wouldn't let them be together if that happened. The little lady is his possession now. Little thing never had a chance."

They laughed, and I took that opportunity to crack one eye open. One goon was struggling with a lock to get a door open, which I assumed was the door to where Jackson and I were being held. The other goon was messing around with his gun. Both were too busy to see me.

I saw the radio attached to the pant leg of the goon trying to get into the cell, and I knew this was my chance. Slowly but surely, I pick-pocketed the radio from the ignorant goon with his back to me, stuck it in my jeans, and went back to being perfectly still.

Like I said before: idiots.

e He I felt myself being dragged again, and then kicked, forcing my body to roll into an open area. By the laughing and the sound of a door closing, I figured I played the part of a limp body pretty well.

"Oh God, Chase!"

Almost immediately, I heard the sound of someone rushing over to me and felt hands on my face. The hands moved from my face to my neck then my arms. One hand was searching for a pulse, and the other rubbing soothing circles on my hand. I didn't want them to stop, but I knew I had to wake up sometime.

I opened my eyes to see Jackson, in all of his glory, hovering over me. His eyebrows were scrunched together rather cutely, and his sea green eyes were intense and full of worry. After gazing at him for a few seconds, I realized that he hadn't seen me open my eyes.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," I croaked.

His eyes met mine, and his face lit up into a smile. The hand that was checking for my pulse came to my cheek. "Thank God you're alright! I thought they killed you after I doubted you… I'm so sorry."

I grabbed the hand that rested on my cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry for," I insisted. "I'm the one who lied to you about the last time I was here. You had every reason to doubt me, and for that I'm sorry."

He smirked, and wore a triumphant look on his face. "Technically you never lied to me. You just withheld information, and I completely understand why you would want to do that."

"A lie of omission, then."

"A lie of what?"

I rolled my eyes, and took his hand off my cheek. "A lie of omission, you idiot. I withheld information from you, which is technically called a lie of omission."

He huffed and crossed his arms, then looked down at me. "I'm just trying to say that I'm mad at you. Okay?"

I looked away from him, starting to get mad because he wasn't mad at me. I screwed up big time, and fell into one of Luke's traps. I know that he probably feels bad too, but he has no reason to. I was the culprit this time. It's me that needs to be blamed. Why can't Jackson see that?

After a minute of stubbornly refusing to look at Jackson, I heard him let out a heavy sigh and start to move away. That kind of made me feel even worse.

I turned to see that his back was to me, and he was messing around with his hands, both of which were covered in blood. I looked down at my body and my eyes widened at the sight. I was covered in blood- my blood.

Luke's goons really did beat me to shit.

That made me feel even worse. Jackson obviously wanted to help me, and I acted like a selfish brat, again, and pushed him away. Why can't I do anything right?

"Jackson, I'm sorry," I spoke, my eyes digging into his back. "Jackson…" He still didn't turn around.

I bit back a groan as I lifted myself up into a sitting position. My arms and back were screaming in pain from the beating that I had just previously received, but I shook it off. It's nothing that I haven't obtained before.

I made a move to crawl toward him, but a splitting pain that emitted from my ankle told me otherwise. "Dammit!"

Jackson's body snapped back to face me, and his eyes widened when he saw what I was trying to do. "Chase! What the hell?"

He scurried over to me, and grabbed my shoulders to ease me back to the ground. I slapped his hands away and glared at him. After seeing the wild look in his eyes, I chose to avoid the problem. "I'm fine. We have bigger problems on our hands, so I think we should focus on those for the time being."

He nodded, and ran a hand through his hair. I noticed the slight change in posture, how he seemed to relax a bit. "I'm sorry for doubting you."

"And I'm sorry for not telling you about my brother."

He gave me a small smile and held out a hand. I smiled back at him and shook it. A little tingle went up my arm at the contact, but I shrugged it off.

Jackson made a move to go back to sitting by the wall, and I tried to follow him, this time getting into a standing position, but I let out a yelp from the stinging pain of my ankle. He threw me a look of concern. "You sure you don't need help?"

I scoffed, and tried to shake off the pain that flooded through my leg. "I'm sure I can walk a few feet, Jackson."

He snickered at my stubbornness and took his spot against the wall and watched me struggle to walk over to him. Eventually I made it, and let out a breath as I sat next to him. "Told you I could do it."

"Never doubted you."

I laughed at the serious look on his face, and he smiled at me. Our eyes locked and it was as if the universe came to a standstill. That was the moment that I realized that Jackson was special.

"Anyways, what is this plan of yours?" Jackson asked, forcing his eyes away from mine.

I looked at my hands as I was forced back into reality. "My plan is simple. We need to figure out the weakness of scheduling that occurs. From what I've been able to see so far is that different men come at different times. The same group of men come at the same time, though. It's as if they're all on time slotted shifts, like a regular workplace."

Jackson pursed his lips and his eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. "I don't understand how this can help us."

"This helps us because if we can figure out the scheduling of the shifts, then when they switch shifts we can escape. Simple."

"So, uh, how exactly are we supposed to figure that out?"

I pulled out the radio from the back of my jeans. "This."

"Uh… should I be afraid to touch that thing?"

I rolled my eyes and placed it into his hands. "Nothing you've never touched before, Jackson."

"Touché."

"Anyways, by using this radio, we will be able to figure out when the shifts change. This means that we will be able to know when we can escape!"

Jackson rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. "How do we know we won't get lost?"

"I was here before, and I remember the route I had to take to escape. I don't think I could forget it even if I tried."

He nodded, and placed a hand on my shoulder. He looked into my eyes and threw me a weary smile, like a soldier would to their comrade. "I trust you."

I nodded. But I couldn't help but think what would happen if I was wrong.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next few days passed by quickly. Jackson and I spent many hours in silence, and the both of us seemed to be wondering the same thing. Is this going to work? Or are we wasting this much time for nothing?

The frequency of our meals helped us keep track of the time and duration of the shifts, as it seemed that the meals were served at the same time every day. We weren't given that much food and water- but it was enough for us to stay alive.

I noticed that Jackson started to lose weight, the muscles that were so defined were starting to atrophy and become weak. We tried to do pushups and sit-ups as much as we could, but it seemed that with the amount of food and sleep we were getting it was useless.

I was glad that there wasn't a mirror, as I was scared to see what my reflection looked like. Jackson wasn't the only one losing weight. That was one of the things that was different from last time. Malcolm wouldn't let me become unhealthy, and tried to keep things as routine as possible.

Now it seemed to just be a waiting game.

One day, Jackson and I were sitting in our usual spots against the wall. The silence was deafening at that particular time, and I was wishing that time would just pass by. I was getting even more home sick than usual, thinking about my friends, and what they probably think that happened to me.

"What was your brother like?" Jackson asked, breaking the silence.

I looked at him for a second in shock, then smiled at the curious look on his face. "Malcolm was special. He was the best older brother that a girl could ask for, and I loved him. He was so protective of me, and I remember that would do anything to keep me safe."

"Sounds like a cool guy."

A wistful smile found its way to my face. "He was the best. I remember this one time when our mother refused to get us ice cream, and that was the one thing that I wanted. Malcolm snuck out and bought some Ben and Jerry peppermint bon-bon ice cream, and that's the only thing I've ever allowed myself to eat ever since."

Jackson laughed before saying, "Going for the expensive stuff, huh?"

I couldn't help but chime in with my own laughter. "Malcolm always said that if you have money, might as well use it!"

"Your brother must have been smart."

I nodded, and was about to reply when I stopped myself. I came to the realization that I've never talked about Malcolm like this. I never talked to my mother, my friends, or even my therapist about this. So why did it feel so natural to talk to someone like Jackson?

"I have some secrets too, you know," Jackson said, cutting through the tension. His hand slowly grabbed onto mine and he started to rub soothing circles with his thumb.

My eyes widened and I looked at him in shock. He didn't meet my eyes, instead he kept his eyes glued to our connected hands. "I guess sometimes I get really mad at people who are perfect; people who have a perfect family, perfect friends, perfect grades… I guess it makes me realize that I'll never get to have that."

I swallowed hard. "You thought I had a perfect life?"

He nodded, but his head still remained down. "And now that I know what had happened to you… it makes me feel like I've been such an idiot. No one really has a perfect life, you know? Everyone has something haunting them, no matter how big or small."

"Woah, that's pretty deep Jackson. Good for you."

"I just wish it didn't take being kidnapped to figure that out."

I couldn't bring myself to say any more about the topic. Honestly, I was still in shock that Jackson and I were somehow able to mesh well together. If someone had told me that this was going to happen a year ago, I would have expected to be dead by now. But now… now I'm not so sure.

"You don't have to apologize to me anymore, Jackson. You know what you did wrong, and I know that once we get out of here, you're going to right your wrongs."

His hand withdrew from mine, and went to run through his hair. "How do you know that? How can you be so sure that I can change?"

"You want to change, right?"

"Duh."

"Then there's your answer,"

Jackson turned to look at me with a questioning look plastered on his face. "What do you mean?"

"I've come to meet the real Percy Jackson. He is probably the greatest person I've ever met. The real you is strong, loyal, and brave. That is the person that I've come to trust, and believe in. Jackson, I believe that you can change. I trust that you will, and if not, just know that I'll kick your ass."

His eyes widened, and the largest smile I've ever seen graced his face. He was practically glowing, and I knew that I was looking at someone truly special to this world. "Thanks, Chase. I mean, thanks for trusting me like that… it means a lot."

I smiled at him and he reached over to hold my hand. We sat in a comfortable silence, pondering over the words I had just said. I knew he needed to hear it, and that he needed to know that I trusted him. He had been pretty clear about telling me that he trusted me, so I needed to return that favor.

I guess that's what makes us a good team.

That's when I realized something else. Something that made me smile.

"Hey Jackson?"

"Yeah?"

"I realize that you practically know my life story while I don't know anything about you. And as long as we're spilling out our deepest secrets to one another, care to share?"

"Well, my childhood wasn't anything special. My parents split just after I was born, and my mom was left to raise me on her own."

I sighed, and patted his hand. "She must be a strong woman, going through that."

Jackson nodded, then a small smile lit up his face. "A few years ago, she met my step father who teaches at Goode, Mr. Blofis. I was happy that she found someone to make her happy after all those years. She never gave up on me, no matter what. She's pretty much the best mother anyone could ask for."

"I'd love to meet her."

"She'd love you. Hell, she loves all of my friends. The only reason why we go over to my house is because of my mom's blue chocolate chip cookies. No one could ever come close to making them as good as her."

I looked at him in shock. "Blue cookies?"

He laughed at my expression, then explained, "When I was a kid, my favorite color was blue. Still is, actually… but anyway, she used blue food coloring to turn my food blue so I'd eat it. It kind of became a tradition, but don't worry- now days she only turns cookies blue."

I laughed, trying to imagine a younger version of Jackson refusing to eat food because it wasn't blue.

Jackson continued with his story, "So, my mom raised me, and my dad was pretty much a mystery until a few years ago. He seemed to be a decent guy, but at the same time he left my mother to struggle. My mom didn't make a big deal about him reappearing, but it messed me up. I realized that I could never be the perfect son… and it messed with my head."

"Jackson…"

"So when I had to choose between my mom and Amphitrite, I froze," he choked on a sob. "My mom raised me, loved me, and cared for me, but I froze when I thought about my father. I actually thought for a second about choosing my step mother to please him! Over my own mom!"

Jackson dissolved into quiet sobs, and his hand left mine to cradle his face. "Jackson-"

"You don't understand, Chase! You don't understand what happened!"

Tears started to form into my eyes as I looked at the crushed boy in front of me. He has been wearing his heart on his sleeve, and now his loyalty is practically crushing him from the inside.

"You're right. I don't understand what happened. I'm not even going to try to… but please, Jackson. Remember who you are. Remember who the real enemy is. This is not your fault."

"But I killed-"

"You weren't the one that pulled the trigger. You were given an impossible choice, and it's not fair. But now you have to remember who the real enemy is. You can't start doubting yourself, not after all we've been through."

I crawled to his side and wrapped an arm around him. "I just don't know what to do, Chase," he whispered. "I just don't know what to do."

I choked on my breath. "What did you just say?"

His shoulders slumped even more, and he dug is face into his hands. "Please don't make me repeat it. I don't like being weak."

I shook my head, tears forming in my eyes. "You're just like him, you know that?"

He slowly looked up from his hands and his eyes met mine. Tears and all. "Just like who?"

"I just realized that you're exactly like Malcolm. He had said the same thing you just did… I just didn't place the connections until now."

"But you said that he was the strongest person you knew-"

"Only to be replaced by you. Jackson, you underestimate yourself. You think your love for your friends and family makes you weak. The truth is that the love you have for your friends and family makes you strong, it doesn't make you weak."

"Thanks, Chase."

I shook my head. "No, thank you. You keep me going, Jackson. Malcolm kept me going before… but you keep me going now. So thank you."

He smiled at my words and threw an arm around me. "You're a great friend, Chase. You're one of a kind."

"Woah," I joked. "What happened to Rachel!"

Jackson threw his head back in laughter. "Well she's pretty special, too."

"She broke up with you, didn't she?" I asked, starting to get mad at myself for bringing up the topic. Of course he still likes her.

"Yeah, she did."

"But you still love her?"

He paused for a second, and an odd look crossed his face before disappearing as quickly as it came. "Yeah. Guess I do."

I struggled to hide the pain I felt in my chest after hearing those words, but I knew they needed to be said. "So, I guess you have something worth fighting for, Jackson."

A small smile crossed his face and he asked, "Do you have something worth fighting for, Chase?"

I gave a wistful smile as I nodded. A hurt look flashed on his face for a second before he gathered his bearings and another smile took its place. I knew it was fake. "So who might that be?"

"Unfortunately for me, he died ten years ago."

Jackson's eyes widened, and he reached for my hand but was cut off by a voice. Luke's voice.

"It's time for the real fun to start."

The laugh that followed was sickening and frightening. Gas started to come into the cell through the air vents, and Jackson reached for my hand one more time. I met him half way.

I could feel Jackson rubbing soothing circles on my hand through the noise of Luke's laughing as everything faded into darkness.