Chapter 5

Trouble

"It's okay, Mrs. Jackson, Annabeth and several others are out looking for him right now. You know him, always wandering off. I'm sure he'll be okay." Chiron sighed and continued shuffling through papers while he talked to anxious Sally Jackson on the phone. He cringed a bit more every minute he talked, he could tell he was sending out a giant signal to all monsters in the vicinity that there were demigods here. He could only hope that the sentries he had placed would be able to warn the older campers in time to launch an attack depending on if a monster came.

Aside from impending monster attacks, he had a few other large problems to deal with, and they all came from one source; Percy. He couldn't believe his luck, only three days after Percy had left to visit his mom, he had vanished. This caused him great panic, when Sally first called him to report that Percy hadn't come back from a walk he had taken the day before.

He was worried and angry. Worried that anything could have happened, and they'd never know, and angry at himself for not paying closer attention to what Percy was feeling and acting. Dark thoughts crept up on him as he considered grim answers to the current situation. He had known that Percy was experiencing some emotional turmoil, so he sent him away for a slight break and change of scenery, but maybe the problems were deeper than that.

Pain.

Darkness.

Where am I?

Am I alive?

He tried opening his eyes. Hurts. All he saw was a dark greyness beyond him, stark and cold. Ugh, I hurt too much to be dead. He thought, aggravated. He tried to clear his eyes, but all that he could see was grey. Wait, no that was a wall. His senses cleared up a bit, and the buzzing in his ears died down a bit. Trying to gather himself, he lay for a while, focusing on remaining conscious.

He felt a springy cot beneath him, but he mostly felt soreness coming from his right shoulder, and upon shifting around a bit, felt coarse bandages wrapped around his injured shoulder and part of his torso. Each twinge in movement caused his shoulder to ache, but he had felt worse. Besides, he seemed to be more mobile with every effort. He slowly lifted he left hand and touched his right shoulder gently, trying to get a feeling of how bad he was hurt.

His foggy brain cleared up a bit as he examined it, and he groaned quietly, sinking his head into the thin pillow as he remembered what had happened. He closed his eyes and rested his arm back by his side, realizing the reason he was hurt was because he had been shot. Oddly, it seemed like the bullet hadn't made contact with bone or caused any serious damage, even though it had the potential to. He could tell by the dull ache that it must have been removed, which was also a bit suspicious. Though he didn't have time to ponder that right now. He had to figure out where in hades he was.

He clenched his jaw and tried to sit up, attempting to observe his surroundings. That's when a wave of nausea hit him. He almost lost consciousness again as his head pounded with intensity, blocking out rational thought and his sense. He exhaled and tried to pull himself together.

He lay there for a few more minutes, waiting until the pounding subsided to a dull ache like his shoulder, and gently moved upright. Grimacing at the pain (most likely a hard concussion), he gripped the sides of the small cot and tried to focus on what was around him.

He was in a small, about fifteen by fifteen foot room, which was stark grey. Nothing adorned the walls, and there was no furniture other than his cot and a sink, which was affixed to the opposite wall. Eyes widening, he saw that the wall to the left of his cot was a set of heavy metal bars.

Oh gods, am I in jail? He thought despondently. Oh please don't let this be jail, he hoped quietly. But all that hope faded when he saw two guards standing on either side of the room (cell, he realized). They both wore earpieces and carried heavy guns, barely flinching when he got up slowly and tried a steady step forward.

He held back the pain in his head and shoulder, and realized that oddly, he was still in his clothes from the night before, minus his sweatshirt. His jeans were dirty and ripped at the knee, but his orange camp tee shirt looked fine.

Oh gods.

His camp tee shirt.

The one that clearly and distinctly stated, Camp Half Blood, Long Island Sound.

With a Pegasus under it.

He was a complete idiot.

Trying to calm himself down, he told himself that no one would know what his shirt meant, that they (whoever they was) probably thought it was some sort of outdoor summer camp. Silently cursing whoever designed these shirts to say the location of the camp, he took another unsteady step forward, trying to get a better view of his situation.

Yea, there was no denying it; he was in some sort of prison. He immediately went into survival mode, his mind beginning to calculate ways he could escape, but they all involved at least two things; Riptide, and water. The sink, he thought quickly, striding a bit more steadily to the small faucet. He turned the handle eagerly, but nothing came out. This stumped him for a second, and he tried the other knob, but to no avail. Completely dry.

Catching a movement in the corner of his eye, he turned to one of the heavily armed guards that stood outside. They made eye contact, and the man's cold glare surprised him for a second, before the man averted he gaze. Percy had been known for a pretty intense glare, which he had unknowingly unleashed on the man.

Percy caught him say something into a radio, but it was too muffled for him to make it out. He leaned back on the faucet and looked around, suddenly noticing some objects near the cot. It was his sweatshirt, folded up, and a plate with some food on it. There was no water, and Percy immediately felt more suspicious. How much did these people know about him?

After a quick meal that consisted of a large peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he was hit with a sudden spark of inspiration. Glancing at the guards, he set the plate down gently, pulled his sweatshirt on, and lay down on the cot. Noticing that he had been previously sleeping on top of a thin sheet, he decided to pull that over him too. He rolled away from the guards, facing the stark grey wall. Pretending to be asleep, he lay there for a few minutes, hoping the guards would stop paying close enough attention for him to shift around a bit.

Concealing a smirk, he slowly moved his left hand down towards his pocket, feeling the familiar pen shape that constantly stayed with him. He sighed in relief and pulled it out, looking happily at it. So maybe they didn't know everything about him, and still had a few tricks up his sleeve. Placing Riptide in his sweatshirt pocket for easier access, he closed his eyes and felt around for any source of water.

He felt in the direction of the pipes, and was rewarded with the feeling of small droplets of water that had stayed behind like residue. That meant that he had a) only been there for a short period of time, considering it had not dried up, and b) he now had a small source he could use to heal himself.

These people, he thought, know I'm dangerous, why else would they go to such precautions? But, they don't know everything. If I can get out before they (any of the Avengers from the alley) come and see me, I might be able to get away. All he knew was that he had to get out of there as soon as possible and then get back to camp. Chiron would know what to do from there.

Concentrating hard, he reached out and searched for any signs or traces of water. He was jolted away by a sudden change outside. Suddenly, it was dark. Not pitch black, but all the overhead lights and hallway lights had been turned off. He threw the sheets off, pushing down the pain, and stood up. He took a hasty step towards the bars and shook them gently, but they didn't budge. The guards outside, however did, and a second later some dim hallway lights switched on and Percy got a face full of gun.

"Get back," the man spoke gruffly, his gun only inches from Percy's face. The other guard kept a defensive but apprehensive stance, quickly speaking into his radio. Percy, startled, took a quick step back and let go of the bars. He mustered the courage to speak, but his voice was dryer then he expected, so his words came out scratchy and rough. "What's with the lights?" he cleared his voice quickly. The guard looked reluctant to answer, and glanced at his comrade.

The other one eyed Percy cautiously and put his radio in his pocket. "S'just the curfew," he said, rolling his eyes. "Ten o'clock, lights out," he added.

Percy decided not to answer, because they both turned back around and didn't look like they would answer him if he said anything. Shocked, he sat down and swallowed dryly, realizing how thirsty he was. That means it's been at least 24 hours, 48 at the most, or I would be practically dying of thirst, he thought.

Another anxious pang hit him as he realized the state his mother would be in considering he had practically disappeared overnight and had been away for at least 24 hours. What if she contacted Chiron or tried to go out looking for him herself? He didn't want to place anyone in danger, but begrudgingly he thought that backup would be nice right about now. Unfortunately, he had left virtually zero clues as to where he could be. He felt guilt wash over him as he remembered his halfhearted promise to Chiron that he would try to take a break and have a normal couple of days. That was completely shattered now, just because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, with all the wrong people. He lay down again, on top of the sheet, and concentrated on the one thing he could have control over; if he could find it.

He reached out again, and felt the presence of water, but it was just out of his grasp. It was filtered, probably some pipes way below him. Maybe they have a sprinkler system, he thought excitedly. He reached up, this time, feeling for drops left in the pipe, or-rain!

Way above him, father than the pipes, to the point where he could barely feel it, he felt the welcoming presence of rainwater seeping through the soil. He anticipated the surge of energy he would gain, but as he was pulling it down towards him, he felt exhaustion creep over him as his strength waned. Begrudgingly, he let go, and instead felt for the drops left in the pipes connected to the small sink. He pulled them towards him, collecting them into a small, dirty cup of water that pooled out into the basin of the sink. Smiling lightly, he pulled it so it seeped out and ran in a trickle towards him, finally letting it sit right beneath him in a tiny puddle. Turning over, he glanced up at the guards, and reached out tentatively to touch the water.

Instantly, he felt 100% better. His mind cleared and the pain dulled, and after he gained some strength back, he came up with a plan. Easily, he reached out for the rain above him and pulled. Stopping right as it was above him, he thought of how he would get out assuming he was able to take out the guards. It occurred to him that he was underground, considering the water above him and the lack of a window. He couldn't tell how far under he was, but it had to be a manageable distance considering he could reach the water. Glancing out, he saw that nothing but a blank wall sat in front of his cell, but he still didn't have a clue about how many guards were in the complex.

On the other hand, he had been left alone the entire time here, and since it was night, he was assuming no one would be coming to see him any time soon. This gave him hope, because if he could escape before they had a chance to question him, he might be able to get off their radar. This was unlikely, but he would deal with it once he got out.

Pulling Riptide out of his pocket, he got ready to let all hell break loose. Collecting a large amount of water in the space above him, he uncapped the pen and let it grow to its full size beside him, keeping it concealed. Before he was ready to unleash it though, he let a steady trickle fall onto the cot and give him his full strength. He was almost certain that the bullet wound had healed, along with his head. The next part of his plan involved getting the bars open. Hoping to attract the guard's attention, he lay still, with Riptide under him, and let more water in, so that it was like a small storm had gotten into his cell.

Hearing the pitter patter, the guards both turned in unison and looked on in surprise. Grabbing what Percy assumed was a keypad he began to type in a code, but the other guard stopped him and spoke quietly but hurriedly into his radio and yelled something into the cell. "Stop whatever you're doing or I'll shoot," he growled.

Percy was a bit uncertain now, considering he needed the bars to be open before he could escape. Thinking fast, he let the water come crashing down like a waterfall, to the point where it obstructed the guards view. Using it like a shield from the bullets he heard being fired, he dashed to the corner of the bars and fried the control panel. He heard another hail of bullets hit his water-shield, and felt his old confidence and adrenaline fill him up to the point where he was ready for anything.

Now came the real test though, guns verses sword. He shoved against the bars, and they crashed open, hitting someone that Percy hoped was a guard. Shouting followed, and crashing free of his cell and into the pouring indoor rain, Percy sprinted away down a long, dark hallway. He began reaching out above him again, slamming the water down and bringing it crashing on top of him.

He observed the hallway ahead of him, which was the same dull grey as his cell, and lined with a few empty cells and closed black doors. It was about twenty feet long and seven feet wide. Some of the doors closest to him were marked "utility" and "maintenance." This didn't give him a very good idea as to which way he should go, and the water he had brought down was slowing. Although he had pulled enough to fill the entire twenty food hallway with about half an inch of water, he was running out of water to pull. He felt the steady pounding of rain above him slow, and he cursed silently as he looked desperately for a way out.

Turning, he saw the two guards that were stationed in front of his cell stumble to their feet and aim their guns at him. He sprinted past three black doors and wrenched the farthest one open, revealing an even longer stretch of hallway.

He shoved the door behind him closed, and ran to the end, where he turned a sharp corner and almost ran smack into two armed guards. Brandishing his sword (which he realized did absolutely nothing against mortals), he slashed forward in an aggressive move, just to see how they reacted. They seemed surprised but immediately reacted, although before either of them could move very far, he threw his arm over his head, like he was pitching a baseball, and sent all the pooled water over his head in a solid tidal wave. They both hit the ground hard, but even as they tried to get back up Percy was off and springing again.

He turned the next corner, and froze. There were about ten guards in this hallway, and Percy felt a tug of anxiety; his chances at escaping suddenly shrunk to a very small percent. Water slowly gushed out from the door he had exited, and he stood frozen, like a deer in headlights, as the guards shouted and pointed their guns at him. "Put your weapon down and get on the ground NOW!" The soldier nearest Percy shouted. Others were yelling into their radios, requesting backup and reporting the situation.

Startled, and still searching for a way out, Percy slowly lowered his sword to the ground. He realized he had to get out as quickly as possible before he was outnumbered. More of them started shouting at him as he started to raise his hands. Suddenly he noticed the label on a black door to his right. It read "Water maintenance."

Grinning slightly, he lowered his hands and spoke, shocking everyone. "See the thing is, I'm not very good at following directions," he grinned, surprising even himself with the strong confidence in his voice. The same soldier who had shouted at him made a move to speak again, but he was suddenly hit with a more pressing matter, specifically the door to the water maintenance room smashing into him. Chaos erupted, and Percy brought down everything he had. Sprinklers, water pipes, and several large water tanks exploded, ripping holes in the walls and ceiling, and sending high powered jets of water at the remaining soldiers.

He brought out more than planned though, and chunks of ceiling began falling in, landing with large splashes and making the hallway a minefield of concrete, metal, and water. Water continued misting from the sprinklers, and burst pipes spilled their contents, leaving a growing two inches of water on the ground. Percy waded easily past the unconscious soldiers, and surprised himself again with a pang of guilt. These people had no idea what he was capable of, and they were just trying to make sure he wasn't a threat. Of course, there were better ways to do this than shooting him and locking him in a cell, but after the invasion of Manhattan, he knew paranoia was to be expected. He just couldn't put the secrecy of demigods on the line.

The water tinted red as he reached the end of the hallway and opened a white door. He came across an empty room and an elevator near a set of emergency stairs. Seeing the red down arrow light blink, Percy though fast and, remembering his old trick, pushed forward at the control panel, sending a vicious stream of water at it. The circuit shorted out, rendering it useless and stranding the elevator wherever it was, hopefully stopping a large number of reinforcements.

Seeing as the stairs were his only way up, he reluctantly dashed up, leaving the comforting presence of water behind. He patted his pocket, where Riptide had reappeared in pen form. He felt the rain above him finally cease, severely cutting off his supply of water. The lights above him blinked off and on, sending sparks shooting from electrical lines.

Get out, get to Mom, get to camp, he thought over and over again, trying to keep himself from panicking too much. He sprinted up flight after flight in darkness, with only the pounding of his feet and the splash of sparks to occupy his thoughts.

After several minutes he heard the sound he was dreading, multiple sets of footsteps coming towards him. Panicking, he glanced around for a place to hide, but he hadn't come across an exit in several flights. He glanced around and backed down as the pounding grew closer, and just before he turned and fled he had a fleeting idea. The center of the dark staircase was blocked by a large cinderblock column, no escape there. The walls were pure cinderblock too, and the staircase was only about seven feet wide. There was however, a large air vent window to his right, just high enough up that he could reach up and pull himself in.

Hearing the shouting of voices now mixed with the ominous pounding of footsteps, he used Riptide to quickly pry open the vent and inspect the inside. He couldn't see much besides a small corridor, just big enough for him to fit. He crawled in, and pulled the vent up behind him, locking it back in place with a snap that was drowned out by the approaching soldiers. He held his breath as his heart rate increased, and suddenly he could see them through the small holes in the air vent. They rushed past, about twenty in total. They had heavy guns and looked prepared for anything Percy could ever hope to throw at them.

He cursed in his head as he saw one turn towards him, and scooted back as quietly as possible from the light. Internally his panic increased as he heard them stop and begin talking, saying something he couldn't quite make out into a radio. They were slightly out of breath he noticed, so he must be pretty far from the top. Silence followed as one of the soldiers got a crackling reply on the walkie-talkie, and Percy was about to explode from panic and from holding his breath for so long.

BAM!

Something metal whacked the outside of the vent, and Percy started violently, doing a clumsy and very loud backward roll in the vent, smashing his head on the side in the process. He gasped as he flailed for a grip, and finding only air, tried desperately to hold on to the flat wall. Realizing in his panic that he had tumbled back into a shaft that led only straight down, he held on for dear life as he slowly slipped backwards into the pitch blackness.

Chaos had utterly erupted outside, several smashes brought the vent down and exposed a struggling Percy to the heavily armed soldiers. They began shouting at him, and suddenly he found himself struggling to hold on, and being aimed at by several guns. The radio cracked to life again, and Percy recognized a woman's voice. His head was desperately pounding, making it hard to think, which probably led to his stupid decision.

That is, seeing no way out, he let go.

Now regularity, this would have been a pretty idiotic decision, considering he had no idea how far down he was going to fall or what was at the bottom. In an ideal circumstance, he would have fell a few feet into another duct and gotten the heck out of there, but being Percy Jackson, he never ended up in the ideal circumstance. What actually happened was much worse.

A/N I had to end it somewhere, so why not a cliffhanger! I'll update in a different POV very soon though. Thanks for all the reviews and follows! If you have any ideas, feel free to PM me.

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