Here you guys go, another chapter. You all must be getting really spoiled by now. I've been working on a one-shot not in any way related to this story, but I feel the need to share that anyway, so anyone who follows my work can look forward to that. Remember, feedback and constructive criticism are much appreciated. I hope you guys enjoy, and stay awesome.

-ROC6

Dr. Baker had learned long ago that someone's eyes told you more about a person than their words did. Their mouth could tell whatever lies they wanted, but how they really felt was often still expressed in their eyes. She patiently met the eyes of the golden haired girl perched on the patients' chair across her desk in the vain hope she could get a feel for her personality before starting their session. The boy's, Percy's, were a rich green and held so many things she could only begin to fathom them. The girl in front of her's eyes, like the boy's, were fascinating. They were a vivid gray of so many layers it was like staring into an infinite pool of molten metal, and as she examined the girl she could get a feel for who she was. Her eyes were cold, calculating, intelligent and clever. Yet, at the same time, they were warm and kind, and weary, tired and sad. Broken. Those gray eyes were aged well beyond the years of the girl, showing pain and sorrow and suffering beyond anything a seventeen-year-old should have experienced. This piqued the curiosity of the doctor, as she wasn't even sure she had experienced anything like what was guarded in the girl's eyes, not even with the childhood she had.

A twinge of pity flashed across her mind, but she wasn't going to force the girl to answer the questions purely to sate her growing curiosity. No, she couldn't do that. What she needed was for the girl to grow comfortable with her, so she would talk freely in her presence. Eleanor needed to understand what had happened to the girl so she could help her.

The girl inspected her for a moment, just Eleanor had been inspecting her, before bending her features into an innocent smile that didn't quite match what her eyes were saying, "Excuse me, Ma'am. Can I go home?"

The doctor sighed. Years of being a psychiatrist had taught her how to spot a lie, and of course, it was too much to expect the girl in front of her to make it easy, "Annabeth. I'm not buying the innocent act, so you can drop it."

The teen scowled and sent a withering glare the psychiatrist's way that startled her with its ferocity, causing her heart to start beating significantly faster in her chest. She sincerely hoped she hadn't paled too much from Annabeth's glare. The teen spoke in a cold voice, "Then I should let you know that I know you didn't tell our parents where we are, that we were abducted without permission. Do they even know we are in an insane asylum? Have you contacted my father? My mother? Percy's parents?"

The girl studied her again, "You haven't. You think you're helping us. Well. Let me tell you. We were doing just fine on our own, thank you very much, and nothing you can say will help us. If anything, you'll make it worse."

Eleanor opened her mouth to object, planning to protest the girl's claims. After all, they'd already freed her from what seemed like a flashback. Unfortunately, the instant the girl saw her mouth open, she cut in, "You're exasperated. You think you helped me out of my flashback. Guess what; you didn't. Instead, you and your thnitos (mortal) drugs trapped me inside of it. For hours. I have a right to be mad, and while you may have gotten my boyfriend to talk, you will be getting nothing out of me."

Eleanor Baker was at a loss, but she was not to be intimidated by some teenaged girl, "Nurse!"

The nurse came in, and three guards, two black eyes, and a broken arm later, the drug had been administered to Annabeth, whose eyes had momentarily widened in surprise. The constant movement the girl had been making, though the doctor hadn't noticed until its absence, had halted.

"So, Annabeth, tell me about yourself," Dr. Baker noted that there was no outward change in her behavior, the only sign the drug had worked was the accentuated tiredness in her eyes. She wondered what could give the teenaged girl the training to hide her feelings so well.

Annabeth laughed disconcertingly cruelly, vaguely reminding Dr. Baker of the sound of metal grating against itself. Annabeth stared the doctor in the eyes, her stormy ones flashing like gunmetal, loaded and ready to murder, already covered in the dust of another kill. They reminded Eleanor of a predator stalking its prey, a distinctly unsettling image. Annabeth spoke again, her voice terrifyingly steady when she should have been struggling to stay awake, "Never will you get me to talk. All you need to know about me is that I have been through hell and nothing you can do will ever crack me open."

Dr. Baker looked carefully at her patient's eyes and could tell she wasn't lying. Deciding they had attempted enough therapy for the day, she had Annabeth taken back to her room. Once the girl was gone, Eleanor began frantically scribbling notes on her notepad. The medicine administered to the girl during their session was an incredibly strong sleep aid. It made the patient tired enough that it hindered cognitive thinking, such as the notion to lie, since it was already taking too much of the patient's energy to stay awake, much less lie adequately. The fact that Annabeth Chase had handled herself so well as to keep the exhaustion so well hidden made the doctor truly worried about what lay hidden in her past.

Eleanor scribbled a few more notes onto her notepad, then scribbled messily at the stop to start the felixfacile deiciuntur, circling it a few times for emphasis.