Bam. Another chapter. This one's a little longer than usual, but I doubt you guys will complain. The next chapter will probably more development, but then things will hopefully start moving a little more. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and stay awesome.

-ROC6

"Hello?" the voice on the other end of the phone line answered, a hint of confusion coloring their tone.

"Chiron, this is Sally Jackson," a hint of concern was coloring the caller's tone, "We have a problem."

Sally Jackson had known the instant her son hadn't checked in with her by four that something was seriously wrong. Percy always checked in with her by four if he was doing something after school. He knew she worried, she was always keeping an eye out for his safety, so he always made the effort to keep her posted on his whereabouts. As much as he could, anyway. Sometimes, like that incident in Chinatown, he had no idea where he was going to end up. Still, he always told her if he wasn't coming home right away.

Today, she had not received any word.

There was a muffled sigh from the other end of the line, at Camp Half-Blood, "What has happened?"

Sally relayed the story to him, how Percy and Annabeth hadn't reported back to her. She explained how they never showed for dinner, how she'd feared the worst. Then, at roughly seven, she'd received a phone call, somehow both ambiguous and detailed at the same time, explaining how her son had been checked into a mental hospital for depression, anxiety, and violent tendencies, among other things. Only, the caller failed to mention what hospital.

Thankfully, Chiron understood the gravity of the situation, realizing that if they were in a mental hospital, they were likely unarmed and heavily medicated, thus spelling a death sentence should any monsters find them. Not to mention that they could theoretically reveal the existence of the mythological world to mortals, which could prove troublesome, even with the Mist's intervention. To top it all off, they were likely separated, and with their recent trip through the darkest pit of the underworld, well, to put it simply, things likely wouldn't end well.

"I plan to do some research," Sally was talking with her hands even though the centaur couldn't see it, "But I know you may have other means of locating them. I'll let you know if anything changes."

She heard what sounded like a muffled thud over the line, and another voice in the background a moment later, sounding out of breath, "Chiron, something exploded in Bunker Nine and the woods caught on fire. The dryads are already in revolt after last time, they're threatening to ban campers from the woods."

There was a pause, followed by a sigh, then the centaur apologized, a tired note in his voice, "I'm sorry, but I have to go-"

"It's fine," she assured, "I'll let Mr. Chase know, too. Just let me know if you find anything that could help me bring Annabeth and Percy home."

-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-

The last few weeks were sort of a blur for Sally Jackson. She had spent every spare moment, when she wasn't editing her new novel slated for release in four weeks or running errands or anything of the sort, researching mental facilities in the surrounding area. There were surprisingly many nearby, but after roughly a week's worth of researching, she was able to pinpoint that her son had been checked into a facility by the name of Happy Hills, and she assumed that Annabeth was being kept in the same facility. After extensive research on their practices, She had notified Chiron and Mr. Chase of her findings, neither of which were thrilled by the methods and high success rate of the facility. Sally had called to see if she could visit her son, but they didn't allow visitors within the first six weeks of treatment, claiming that it would hinder the recovery process.

Finally, though, the day had come and she felt Paul squeeze her hand as they walked towards the blocky white building in front of them. The architecture was tasteful, with plenty of windows around the lobby area, but after that, they tapered off. The lawn was well kept, there appeared to be no garden and only a few trees dotting the land. The building was boasting an overly cheery sign dubbing it Happy Hills, adorned with some cheesy slogan. Upon entering the lobby, she was relatively unsurprised to find it decorated with white furniture, excepting the walls, which were a cheery, pastel yellow. In all honesty, it mostly resembled a typical hospital waiting room, with TVs stationed in each corner and enough seats to fill a classroom.

The receptionist, a young man with brown hair that fell in his eyes and charming smile greeted her cheerily, "Hello, welcome to Happy Hills, how may I help you today?"

Her husband gave her hand another comforting squeeze, and she took a deep breath. She didn't know where she'd be without him.

"Hi, I'm Sally Jackson, and this is my husband Paul Blofis," she pasted a smile on her face, "We're here because we have a visitation appointment with my son Percy Jackson."

Sally sincerely hoped this visit went well. All rescue attempts were currently at a standstill, as no one knew what type of condition they were in, and until Percy and Annabeth's condition was assessed, it was unknown what type of rescue would need to be planned. If they were completely incapacitated, then there would need to be a completely different, much more complex plan than if they were, say, only minorly medicated.

The boy furrowed his brow for half a moment, glancing down at what she assumed was a computer screen, though it was hidden by the edge of the desk. After a momentary wait and a few clicks, he glanced back up at her through his bangs, a broad smile on his face, "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Jackson. Follow me, he's right this way."

He moved out from behind the desk, moving towards a set of double doors on the opposite side of the room from where they entered. Once they exited the lobby, a pair of what she assumed were guards began trailing a few steps behind them. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach when she considered why they might need guards. The hallway they were being led down was incredibly sterilized and, like most hospitals, smelled of cleaning fluids. The walls were once again yellow, with everything else, including the periodic doors, a stark white. From somewhere off in the facility, she could hear screaming, and the whole place was making her feel incredibly uneasy.

"He's all right," Paul assured her softly from where he was following her a half step behind, briefly resting his hand on her shoulder. She once again thanked the gods for sending this wonderful man her way as some of the nerves that had been building in her ebbed ever so slightly.

The receptionist, who'd introduced himself as Daniel, blissfully quit the babbling he'd been doing while he'd led them through the complex, stopping in front of a door that looked completely identical to every other door they'd passed, "This is where you'll be meeting Percy, he'll arrive shortly. I'll be back to collect you in fifteen minutes. Oh, and there will be guards stationed outside each of the doors for the sake of the patient's recovery."

He waved them off with a chipper smile, then retreated down the hallway as the door slid shut. The room they'd been led into was small, maybe the size of a walk-in closet or Sally's old apartment's kitchen, and, like everything else they'd passed in the facility, it had pastel yellow walls, with everything else, including the tiny couch positioned across from a fluffy chair in the center of the room, a stark white. After taking note of the cameras located in each of the corners of the room, Sally realized that Paul had chosen to sit on the couch. Cautiously, she joined him.

He slung an arm around her shoulder comfortingly, and she leaned into him. They sat in a tense silence for a few beats, then the door opposite to the one they'd entered clanged open, and her son stumbled into the room.

Without a moment of hesitation, Sally Jackson jumped to her feet and swept her son into an embrace, murmuring into his shoulder, "Oh, Percy. I've missed you so much."

He hugged her tightly in return. After a few moments that made the whole process of scheduling the short meeting worth it, she stepped back, holding her son at an arm's length.

"Tell me everything," she commanded, examining him with a mother's eye.

His hair was starting to get shaggy, but it wasn't too horrible. By her estimation, he hadn't showered in while, though he'd definitely showered within three or four days. He was clad in white sweatpants, plush white socks and a yellow shirt with a breast pocket, which she could see the familiar outline of his sword within, something that comforted her immensely even if it could do nothing to help him out of his current situation. He hadn't lost any of the weight that he'd managed to gain back onto his frame since his trip through the underworld in July, though he was still thinner than she'd like. He looked like he'd been sleeping well, something that surprised her since he hadn't really slept well since Tartarus.

He relayed her to her how he and Annabeth had been attacked by hellhounds, then taken to the mental facility. How he'd woken up in isolation, how the doctors thought he was crazy. He was just describing his daily therapy sessions when Sally deemed him healthy enough and looked up to meet his gaze. Besides the obvious fact that he was holding something back, his eyes concerned her. They were duller than usual and slightly unfocused to look at.

"Percy," she asserted once he'd finished telling her everything he'd wanted to, "What sort of medication do they have you on?"

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "It's, uh, some form of antidepressant, I think? I'm not sure. It makes me always feel tired, though. And I haven't been able to feel anything but happy since they started it."

Not particularly thrilled, but unimpressed nonetheless, Sally coaxed, a steely undercurrent in her tone, "And what aren't you telling me?"

What seemed to be guilt flashed across his face, but was quickly replaced with a grin that was just a little too wide and most definitely not his, "Just, remember, I was really out of it since they started the medication. As in, they stopped therapy for a few days I was so out of it."

His mother crossed her arms, pursing her lips slightly, but she seemed more worried than annoyed.

"I couldn't think straight," he commented, then in a rush, "I think it makes me more susceptible to suggestion, like hypnotism or something, because she got it out of me. I told her. Everything."

Sally wanted to sigh, knowing that this made things infinitely more difficult, but she reached forward and hugged her son again, "It's alright, baby. It's alright."

He smiled at her, seeming a little more comfortable.

Of course, just then a nurse appeared in the doorway, announcing that it was time for Percy to return to his room.

Barely sparing the nurse a glance, Sally asked, "Have you seen Annabeth? How is she?"

He only shook his head, though she knew he would've been more distraught in his right mind, looking uneasy, the most negative emotion she'd seen from him in the visit, "No idea. I haven't seen her since the hellhound attack."

The nurse announced that they need to finish up now, and Sally gave him one last hug, whispering to him before they pulled apart, "I told her parents what's happening, and I contacted Chiron to let him know what's going on. We're trying to get you out of here, baby, just hold on."

When they pulled apart after a few moments, the nurse escorted Percy back to his room, and he was out of her grasp once more.