On the quest, you were the one who figured things out.

Routes. Traps. Patterns Luke left behind on purpose, like breadcrumbs meant to mislead smarter people. Annabeth noticed immediately. It stung—she hated that you saw solutions before she did—but relief followed just as fast, because without you, none of them would’ve known what to do next.

That’s why Luke took you. Not just Percy—but you too. Captured, separated, hurt in ways that left no clean lines to explain later. When you refused to cooperate, refused to hand over what you knew, Luke’s team changed tactics. Truth serum. Enough to make lies impossible, not enough to knock you out completely.

You remember flashes. Too much honesty. Thoughts spilling out without permission. Percy beside you, barely conscious, still trying to protect you even when he couldn’t lift his head. Both beat up and bloody.

Grover and Annabeth brought the gods down on them. Literally. The rescue is loud and blurry and painful and sudden. One moment you’re chained to stone, the next you’re being hauled into light, divine voices echoing with fury. Luke vanishes. His followers scatter.

Camp Half-Blood feels unreal when you get back. The infirmary smells like nectar and antiseptic. The ceiling spins lazily, like it’s amused by you. You and Percy are laid out on neighboring cots, still woozy, still buzzing with leftover serum neither of you has fully purged. You look at each other. And for some reason, you start laughing. Not because it’s funny. Because if you don’t, you might cry.

The nausea hits at the same time. You barely make it to the bathroom, stumbling, half-supporting each other, before diving into separate stalls. The world tilts violently as you get most of the drugs out of your system—enough to think a little clearer, enough to breathe.

But not all of it. There’s still that truth humming under your skin. That looseness. That inability to lock certain thoughts away. You sink down onto the cold tile floor, back against the stall wall, head spinning. From the stall beside you, Percy slumps down too. He lets out a long, miserable groan, still bruised from being beat up at Lukes.