Hey everyone! Here we are with Chapter 3! I am still blown away by the response to this, thank you guys so much. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and stay awesome.

-ROC6

When Annabeth opened her eyes, she was engulfed in more darkness, as if she had never opened them in the first place. For a moment, her heart started beating faster and faster because, oh gods, she was in Tartarus again, and she was blind again, and Percy wasn't there, oh gods, where was Percy? Whatifhewasnevercomingback? But she took a deep breath, counting slowly as she let it out, reminding herself she wasn't there anymore. She and Percy had made it out. She was relatively safe. So she asked the obvious questions. Where was she? Where was Percy? Oh, gods.

Don't panic, she chided herself. Just think: what did you last remember? Annabeth thought back to before the lights went out. She and Percy were fighting hellhounds. Yes, that sounded right. Then...then these two burly men came. They attacked them, with...needles! They got Percy, but Annabeth kicked one of them. She remembered a pinch on her arm, and then...nothing.

She had to find Percy.

"Percy?" Annabeth called out softly, "Percy?" Silently, Annabeth cursed. They promised to not ever be separated, never again. Her vision blurred, and she blinked vainly a few times against the burning in her eyes as a tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away.

Never again. Her mind turned those words over repeatedly like a broken record. Never again, never again, never again.

She needs to calm down. Get a grip! You have to find Percy. You have to know where you are, and why you are here. You cannot succumb to fear, or panic, or worry.

Annabeth slowly sat up from the bed she was lying on, ignoring the dizziness that whatever she'd been drugged with had left in her system. How she had gotten there was unknown to her, and the lights came on at her movement, leaving her free to survey the room she was in. The floor was a white tile. Three of the walls were painted a pastel yellow, with the fourth one being entirely a mirror. Most likely, the mirror was a one-way window for viewing her and her behavior. The ceiling was simply a plain white, and in each of the corners of the room surveillance cameras hung in plain sight. The room itself was fairly empty: just the bed she was sitting on, which was a metal frame, paper thin mattress and a pair of scratchy sheets with something the size of a sock ball meant as a pillow, the wooden table and chair over in the corner, and in the opposite corner sat a porcelain sink and toilet, with no privacy from the rest of the room.

Annabeth swung her legs over the side of the bed and realized she was wearing a pair of white sweatpants and a light yellow t-shirt that definitely weren't her clothes. Wait, does that mean someone saw me na-, she realized, you know what, I'm going to try not to think about that. More importantly, she realized, she had no weapon. If she was attacked by a monster, she had no weapon. A momentary flash of fear crossed her mind, only to be replaced by grim determination. If Percy could kill the Minotaur at twelve with no training or weapon, then she'd hopefully be okay.

Annabeth walked over to the mirror and stared intently at it, waiting for one of the people she knew were behind it to speak. Even though whatever she was drugged with was making her terribly groggy, she continued to stare. When, after probably about fifteen minutes, the people on the other side didn't reveal themselves to her, she stared directly at one of the cameras, "Are you ever going to show yourselves, or do I have to continue to stare at the mirror?"

A moment later, the glass became transparent, revealing what looked like your typical office, except there were about half a dozen people inside of a workspace meant for one, making it appear small and cramped.

"-eems to be fascinated with the mirror," one of the people was in the middle of saying.

Annabeth mentally took note of that particular idiot, before beginning coldly, "Hello everyone. Would you kindly tell me where I am and why I'm here."

All of the people in the room realized she could see and hear them now, and one with a Southern accent replied slowly, as if she thought Annabeth was an idiot, "Don't be scared, sweetie, we're just trying to help you."

Annabeth, realizing she could use the stupidity of these people to her advantage, created an expression of absolute innocence on her face, widening her eyes and knitting her eyebrows together, "I don't know why I'm here, can someone help me?"

The people were about to answer when the room suddenly disappeared, and suddenly she was walking through a crowd of monsters. She felt like a ghost, nothing but a wisp of herself. She felt Percy more than saw him, walking next to her with his sword at the ready, and he looked as though he was dead already and had been for centuries, his eyes glassy marbles popped into his skull and his body frail and weak, terrifyingly emaciated. She knew she couldn't be any better. Her body felt insubstantial as if it could blow away in even the gentlest breeze. Her sword hung from her belt, and she kept her right hand on the hilt, ready to draw it at the smallest sign that their disguise wasn't working, with her left hand clasped firmly in Percy's. He may have looked dead, but his hand was still warm, and it still provided some comfort to know that he was right there with her. She could just see the Doors of Death over the top of the crowd of monsters, chained in place and heavily guarded. Then, time melted away and suddenly she and Percy were standing right in front of the doors. She saw the titans, Bob's brothers, guarding the doors lazily, and her heart involuntarily sped up at the thought of having to face multiple titans at once to get through the doors. She wasn't even sure she could face one, after being in Tartarus for so long. She glanced at Percy, drawing her sword, and he nodded.

In a normal situation, her flashback would have ended relatively quickly, with nothing more to show for it than some confused passerby and a distraught, horror-filled expression playing on her face. Unfortunately, as the doctors saw Annabeth freeze mid-conversation, her eyes focused on something far away as her expression contorted with fear, they didn't hesitate to take actions to help her.

Quickly, they dosed a tranquilizer into her arm, ignoring her whispered murmur of "Percy Percy Percy Percy."

While the doctors were celebrating how they bravely helped the troubled teen escape what plagued her mind, Annabeth remained trapped in her flashback until the medicine wore off may hours later.