Hey, everyone! I'm back with another chapter. I hope that makes you peeps all happy. Once again, not too much to say here, so I hope you guys enjoy, and stay awesome.
-ROC6
P.S. Realized I forgot this, and it goes for all chapters, I own nothing you recognize.
Once again, Percy woke up to find the blank walls of his cell, sorry, room, staring back at him. As he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, as per usual, his first thought was of Annabeth. Was she okay? Had they hurt her? He shook his head ever so slightly as if the action could shake the thoughts from his mind. It was obvious by now that the doctors and nurses or whatever weren't going to tell him anything about Annabeth, so it was pointless to dwell on a useless topic, though his heart cringed at the thought. What he needed now was a plan, though those were Annabeth's specialty. He suppressed the thought, forcing his mind to more productive tasks.
How could he escape? The facility was seemingly incredibly well monitored, with security cameras at every turn and nurses monitoring the halls. It'd take a lot of planning to infiltrate their security measures. More importantly, though, how could he bring Annabeth with him? He didn't even know where she was. He kept feeling like she was close, but he knew the doctors wouldn't be so stupid as to put them side by side. Besides, the facility was likely separated by gender or something. Still, though, he felt an underlying current of distress running through him. He needed to know if she was okay.
Percy growled softly. This was going absolutely nowhere. He got up, and, as always seemed to happen in this place, he felt a wave of drowsiness wash over him. He brought a hand up to massage his temples in the vain hope it would make the feeling go away. Percy started pacing and, carefully shielding what he was doing from the view of the cameras, he felt the inside of his shirt's breast pocket, trying not to look so it seemed like a pointless habit. Because for some reason a mental hospital thought they should have pockets. Honestly, Percy thought it was stupid, but there must have been some logic behind it, otherwise, it wouldn't have been added. Either way, it was good for him because he felt his hand close around a familiar ballpoint pen. He almost sighed in relief, before realizing that doing so could give Riptide away. He removed his hand from his pocket.
Percy went over to the wall he would have sworn he had heard Annabeth's screams through and held his palm up to it. What was she doing now? He pressed his palm against it, and he could have sworn he could sense Annabeth doing the same. Her calloused hands flashed in his memory, the way they waved through the air when she was talking about something that excited her, the speed at which they flew over keys. He tapped out the one rhythm Annabeth had taught him of Morse Code, one he used to see Leo tapping a lot. I love you. He heard soft thumps as the same pattern was tapped back, and he smiled as a feeling of elation flowed into him. The doctors may be idiots, but Annabeth was right next to him, right through the flimsy wall, and she was alright. The knowledge made Percy's heart soar with joy.
Just then, a part of the wall slid out of place, and a nurse clad in the typical yellow scrubs marched through carrying a simple foam tray. Percy watched silently as she placed it on the table, then left the room. He waited until he was sure nothing else was going to happen before walking over to it. Sitting on the white styrofoam was a plastic red plate like one might see at a cheap party, piled with about three medium sized pancakes. He frowned pettily. Usually, Percy ate more than that. There was a red plastic cup, matching the plate and like one might get at a party, with orange juice inside, and there were a plastic butter knife and a spork, along with some of those cafeteria packets of butter and syrup. Wouldn't want to give him something he could hurt himself with, now would they? Thinking about the food, he realized how ravenous he was, and, deciding it posed no immediate threat, he scarfed it down.
He then noticed something. Sitting next to his nearly empty cup of orange juice was a simple white capsule. As far as Percy figured, he had to take it, as they were watching him carefully. He sighed. There had to be some way to get out of this. He looked desperately around the room until his searching gaze landed on the sink over in the corner. He drank what was left of his orange juice, then picked up the pill. Percy figured, he was the son of Poseidon, right? So water healed him. He filled the cup with water until it was almost overflowing, then proceeded to drop the pill in. He hoped the medication was weak enough that the water would heal him in time.
With a quick prayer, he gulped down the water and the pill. For a few moments, nothing happened, and Percy started to relax, thinking that the pill wasn't going to do anything too bad to him. Of course, the Fates had other plans.
Just as he relaxed and went to go sit on his bed, something felt off. At first, it wasn't much, just a slight fuzziness at the edge of his vision, and the nagging of his instincts that something wasn't right. He froze, knowing his instincts were usually right. The fuzziness started to ebb away for a moment, and he allowed himself to hope the water was counteracting the medicine. Then, the fuzziness returned tenfold and began moving in towards the center of his vision, and he tried to tense his muscles, hoping vainly it might stop whatever the pill was doing to him. To his horror, he found that he couldn't. If anything, his muscles grew more relaxed. Crap. He panicked for a moment longer until all traces of panic vanished, leaving only confusion in its place as the world spun around him, a whirlwind of colors.
Why was he worried? There was no need. Everything in the world was great! It was colorful and pretty, and… What was he thinking again? Who cares? Life was great! If only Annabeth was here with him… Wait? Who? Why was he thinking like this? For a moment, his sporadic thoughts stopped spiraling, grounding at the thought of Annabeth, but this momentary burst of sanity left almost as soon as it had arrived. Who cared about some Annabelle? Life was perfect! Life was great! Life was painless! Life was pure happiness! Life was-hey look! A butterfly!