I don't own Percy Jackson or Missing by Evanescence.

Chapter 6 – Missing

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"Thalia, wait!" Nico cried as he shoved Rachel out of his way and ran towards the closing door. Thalia was at the end of the hall, almost at the doors. Nico grabbed her arm before she could open the door.

"Get off me," Thalia snarled, ripping her arm out of Nico's grip.

"Thalia, I didn't kiss her." Nico stepped in front of her so she couldn't leave.

Thalia laughed harshly. "Really? Because it sure as hell looked like you did." She tried to push past him, but he didn't move.

"She kissed me. I would never do that to you, Thals, you know that."

"Do I?"

She stared into his eyes, and he didn't answer.

"I should have known," she said, almost to herself. She took a step back.

"Thalia…" Nico said. He sounded a bit desperate.

"I shouldn't have trusted you!" She tried to sound strong and angry, but the crack in her voice and the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks betrayed her.

Nico stepped forward and reached out to take her hand. Thalia stepped backward and pulled her hand away.

"Thalia, I didn't kiss her. I wouldn't cheat on you."

Thalia stared at him and took another step backward. "Get the hell away from me, di Angelo."

Nico started forward to follow her as she turned and ran down the hall, but thought better of it. He leaned back against the doors, put his palms to his forehead, and moaned. "Shit."

He didn't know how long he stood there, but he knew he shouldn't go after her. He knew he hadn't done anything wrong. But he also knew he should have been firmer with Rachel. And he knew that Thalia had never really thought they would work. He'd let her down.

He didn't know how long he stood there, holding on to some ridiculous hope that she would come back. Finally he went to the library to get his things and left, walking by the alley in hopes that she would be there. She wasn't.

Thalia went out the back door, not caring that she'd left her bag and books in the library. She fought off tears as she ran across the back parking lot. She ran through the streets of Manhattan, hoping that Nico wouldn't follow her. The few times she glanced back told her that he wasn't.

When she thought she was far enough away, she turned into an alley and curled up behind a large stack of boxes. The tears flowed hot and fast down her cheeks as she choked on sobs.

* / / * / / *

Sometimes he would pass her in the halls. They shared Greek class, and they had to work on their project, but they didn't speak. Thalia took over the job of script writer and Nico designed costumes and made props. Sometimes she would catch him looking at her, but as soon as she noticed he would pretend that he wasn't and would look away.

After school they would walk in separate directions, Nico sometimes getting a ride from his sister, Thalia always walking. Whenever Nico would climb into his sister's car he would feel her stare on the back of his neck, but she never said anything, and he never mentioned it. When he was in his own car he would put in 21st Century Breakdown and turn up his stereo as loud as he could bear, hoping that it would drown out his thoughts.

It never did.

Then one day Nico didn't see Thalia in the halls. She wasn't in Greek, and when he looked over at her usual table in the corner, it was empty. He brushed off the thought, thinking that she was sick. There was a cold going around the school.

She wasn't in school the next day, or the day after. After a week of not seeing her, he began to suspect something was wrong. After two, he knew something was.

He tried her phone at least once a day, only to have it go to voicemail. He asked other people in their class, and even the teachers, but the students told her they didn't know (some asked who Thalia Grace was) and the teachers said they assumed she was sick. He could tell that some teachers were glad that she wasn't there.

Rachel watched Nico go from upset about the breakup to stressed that Thalia wasn't there to balancing on the line between worry and panic when Thalia didn't show up after two and a half weeks. Rachel had always liked Nico, and she wanted to go out with him, but she knew what she had done was wrong. She didn't know why she had kissed him, and she wanted to fix it. She wanted to explain to Thalia what had happened. She didn't care if Thalia bitch-slapped her afterwords.

So she pulled some strings and found out where Thalia lived. She was surprised to find that no one living with Thalia shared her last name, but she let it slide. After school on the third Thursday after Thalia's disappearance she tossed her backpack in the limo that picked her up every day and yelled to the chauffeur that she'd be home for dinner. Not that she thought her parents would care.

Thalia's house wasn't far from the school, which Rachel was glad for. The house was in a nice neighborhood, and was light green. Rachel decided that Thalia was obviously living with the wrong people when the woman opened the door wearing a flowery "Kiss the Chef" apron.

The woman smiled. "Hi. I'm Amy. Can I help you?"

Rachel stuck out her hand for the woman to shake. "Rachel." Amy shook her hand. "I go to Thalia's school. Is she here?"

The smile faded off of Amy's face. "No."

Rachel frowned. "Where is she?"

Amy sighed and gestured for Rachel to come in.

* / / * / / *

Nico ate his lunch in silence, staring at Thalia's now vacant table. He had tried calling her again, and again she hadn't answered. His mind sometimes made up explanations for her absence, and he was currently trying to fight some of them off. No, brain, she's not dead. She has not been in a horrible car accident. She was not kidnapped. This happened daily.

A tap on his shoulder roused him from his thoughts. He turned to see a familiar pair of green eyes sliding into the seat next to him.

"What do you want, Rachel?" he asked, clenching his fists.

"Nico, I'm really sorry for what I did. And you can be mad at me all you want, but right now I need you to put away that sandwich and come with me."

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Like hell, Rachel."

"Nico, I know you're mad at me. And I completely understand why, but this is not about me or you. I need you to trust me."

He looked back down at his sandwich. "We still have classes."

Rachel snorted. "Like you care. Come on, you can drive."

Nico stared at her for a second, then stood up, walked to the trash can, and threw his sandwich away. Then he looked at Rachel. "Well?"

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief and walked towards the doors. Nico got into his car and waited for Rachel to close the passenger door before leaving the school parking lot.

Rachel guided him through the streets of Manhattan until they finally pulled up in front of a light green house with a black shingled roof. Nico gave Rachel a strange look, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. She got out of the car and went up to the door.

The door opened at her knock to reveal a middle-aged woman with curly brown hair. She smiled when she saw Rachel.

"This is Nico," Rachel introduced. "Nico, this is Amy."

Nico raised his hand in greeting. "What are we doing here?"

The woman, Amy, smiled at him. "So you're Nico."

"Yeah. Why?"

"Has Thalia contacted you recently?"

Nico started. "You're her…" he trailed off, not wanting Rachel to know that Thalia was a foster kid.

"Foster mother," Rachel finished for him. Nico looked at her. "Amy told me."

Nico looked back up at Amy. "She hasn't answered my phone calls or my texts. Is she here?"

Amy's face fell and she leaned against the door frame. "No."

"Why? Where is she?"

Amy sighed. "I don't know. It's not the first time. She usually does this when her foster homes get hard. Her social worker warned me."

"Wait, what? What does she do?" Nico asked, looking from Rachel to Amy and back again.

"Leaves," Rachel supplied.

Nico looked up at Amy. She nodded.

"Thalia ran away nearly three weeks ago."

* / / * / / *

Thalia sat on the toilet in the bathroom of a convenience store, staring at her phone. Almost every call was from Nico, and in the past two and a half weeks she'd gotten 24 messages from him, and more than twice that many texts. Sometimes she considered calling him, or answering one of the texts. But she never did.

She looked down at her arm, covered in red lines. Some were brighter than others, they crisscrossed and mixed. In her right hand she held the razor she took everywhere. Right now, its tip was shiny and red.

She looked down at her favorite set of scars. Thirteen lines spelled out a word. A name.

Nico.

I told you it wouldn't be cliché. And the non-cliché-ness is just beginning. Wait 'till you see what I've got planned for you. I got a few reviews that were very anti-Rachel, so I'm sorry if I didn't satisfy you. But I like Rachel, and I feel like she would feel really really bad about what she did. Even if it gave her a few seconds of happiness. Anyway, that last part was very depressing. I know what I'm doing for next chapter, but I don't have all the details, so it will probably take longer. Besides, school is starting. Freshman year! I'm trying very hard to be happy about this.