AN: thanks for the reviews and commments so far! I'm trying not to make it seem like Jimmy's life is too dark and grim, but I think it worked out okay. I'm using a lot of quotes from PJO so all rights goto Rick Riordan. I own nothing, except MAYBE the storyline. Ok bye.

I woke up with a start, cold sweat drenching the roots of my long dark hair.

Who is she? What is she? Did I just see the past, or the future?

All of these thoughts tumble around in my head as I get up to start my day. Flipping off the camera in the corner of the ceiling, as is my custom, I go to the sink next to my bed to wash myself up. Can't be having any privacy in here, can we?

My thoughts trail back to that girl, and the boy I'd seen her with. Mostly, my thoughts went to their eyes. I'd met quite a lot of people before I'd been sent here, but I'd never seen eyes quite like theirs. Sea green with a blue that somehow blended perfectly with the green at the edges, and a gray color which I didn't think it was even possible for eyes to have.

It's not like you have normal eyes either, buddy, I heard Barry's voice flash through my consciousness. I looked up into the mirror and gazed into my own eyes, set just a little too far back in my slightly pudgy face for my liking. They were such a dark blue I've called them indigo on occasion, ringed by what I think might be red, so dark it's maroon. Not exactly what you might call "normal," eh?

I should probably take some time to introduce you to the other voices that are in my head. No way am I getting to all of them, or else we'd be here longer than I would think possible. I'll just tell you the big ones.

You've already met Barry. I guess you could call him the realist, the guy who helps keep my head out of the clouds. He's been rather helpful throughout my life, even if he is a bit of a cynic.

Up next is Dustin. He's the dreamer, direct counter to Barry. Right now he's not being very helpful, trying to bring my thoughts back to the girl with gray eyes. Dude, piss off, there's no way she'd like me. If she's with anybody, it'd be the boy with those green eyes.

Moving on. Next voice on the list is Jack. I guess you could say he embodies my... urges. All those little, basic primal desires. That's him. He's usually not very active, thank God, but... dude, seriously?! I am not going to think of her like that! Honestly, you're worse than Dustin. Yes, always! At least when he's imagining her, it's with the slightest hint of something remotely approaching decency!

Jeez, he's such an asshole. Anyway, where was I? Jack kinda threw me off a bit. Oh, right.

The last voice I think you're gonna need to know about is Antonio, usually shortened to Tony. He's the doom and gloom guy, the pessimist. He's not much fun at parties, or anywhere else, for that matter. He's... Tony, chill. I know, but nothing bad is gonna happen to this girl. I don't know how, I just know, okay? He's telling me she's going suffer, and have everything she loves taken away. Real crowd-pleaser, this guy.

Barry's kinda the dominant voice, keeping all the others in check. It's a hell of a job, but he does it, don't ask me how. I'm just thankful I still have him.

As I sat down some time after noon (I think)to struggle to read yet another book, this time Fellowship of the Ring, my thoughts once again trail back to the girl. Why would she be coming here? I'd never seen her come to this place before, and I don't know of any new patients she'd come to visit. Dustin, there's no way she'd be coming here to bust me out. What would the odds be for something like that? Jack, just stop. Tony, she's not coming here to kill me. I haven't done anything. Then why would she be coming here? I hear Barry's solemn, honest tone ring out. I don't know. I don't know.

By the time dinner rolls around, I'm getting restless, pacing back and forth furtively in my cell.

"Dustin, I don't know who she is, okay?"

"Tony, nobody's dying right now, so chill."

"Jack, if you don't shut the hell UP, I swear to God..."

"Dustin, I don't even know that my dream was real, let alone if it was past, present or future."

"WHAT DO YOU WANT, Barry?!"

Talking to yourself probably doesn't look very sane to the people behind that camera. Do you WANT them to keep you in here forever?

As always, you have a point, Barry.

I wave to the camera, then look down to see my food, which must have been delivered while I was pacing. Not sure when exactly. How long was I pacing for, anyway?

I eat my dinner slowly, despite the horrible taste and worse texture. I don't want indigestion waking me up at night and ruining my sleep, now that I actually have a reason for wanting to stay asleep and in my dreams. Once I'm done, I go down on one knee in front of the food hatch and wait for it to open. It does, right on schedule, and I slide the tray back to the other side, where it is picked up by whichever poor sap they assigned to me this week. Watching me is quite possibly the most boring job in this place. Though I guess if you work with mental patients, you'd probably love some boredom.

I lay my head down gently, to protect the dreams that yet lay dormant within, and close my eyes.


My eyes open back up half the night later, after several hours of... NOTHING?!

You jinxed it. This is why we can't have nice things, dumbass. First you don't want dreams, so we get bad ones. When we finally have one that's mildly interesting, you go and muck it all up and now we have no dreams. None. ZERO.

Thanks, Tony. The next time I want one of your Debbie Downer speeches, I'll ask for one.

I lay back again, letting my head sink a little bit into the pillow. Please, please let me have some dreams. Please, God.


I got my wish. I dreamed, all right. I dreamed of the boy with green eyes, engaged in horrible battle with a huge man that had the head of a bull. There's no way that actually happened... right? Then my dream changed, to the same boy dragging his... friend, I guess, down a hill and toward a big house of some kind. It shifted again, this time to the porch of the big house. The boy had collapsed on the stairs leading up to the porch, in front of the girl with gray eyes and a man in a wheelchair I had never seen before. The girl spoke, with a voice I'd never heard before yet somehow I knew it really was her voice.

"He's the one. He must be."

"Silence, Annabeth," replied the man in the wheelchair. "He's still conscious. Bring him inside."

The man spoke with the same voice as Barry. How had I known his exact pitch and tone of voice, that I would turn it into something in my head?

I had almost no time to dwell on this train of thought, because the dream shifted again, to some dark tunnel. I couldn't tell exactly where we were, but I knew it was underground. It was deep down, too, judging by the immense weight I felt pushing down on me. The boy and the girl, whose name was Annabeth, I suppose, were there, arguing about something. Something about the boy's "plan."

"What? No! I'm not leaving you." Her voice was shrill. The boy's plan must have been a worse idea than I figured.

"I've got a plan. I'll distract them. You can use the metal spider - maybe it'll lead you back to Hephaestus. You have to tell him what's going on." Not much of a plan, but under the circumstances, I wouldn't have thought of a better one. But who was Hephaestus?

"But you'll be killed!" I heard the fear in her voice. Now I realized exactly how much the boy mattered to her. Well, Dustin, I guess I was right. It seems like he was the only one for Annabeth.

"I'll be fine. Besides, we've got no choice." His voice was adamant, taking an edge that I didn't expect. They were truly in the shit.

Then Annabeth did something I expected, something I realized the boy did not expect. She closed the distance between herself and the boy, and her lips met his. Their kiss lasted less than a second, but I saw how much emotion she was trying to convey with so little time.

"Be careful, Seaweed Brain." She even had an endearing nickname. I can almost hear Dustin's cries of dejection. Almost.

She ran off, down the tunnel, and I followed her into the darkness.

The dream shifted again, to a terrace overlooking New York City, I think. The view was beautiful, but I didn't take the time to fully appreciate it because when I turned around, I saw the boy, or Seaweed Brain, or whatever his name is, on one knee next to a lounge chair. In that lounge chair was seated Annabeth, who looked so pale I couldn't tell if she was still alive. But I saw her chest rising and falling, ever so slightly, and released the breath I'd been holding captive.

They were speaking about something. Their voices faded in, like a scene in a play. Something that happens a lot in my dreams. The boy was responding to something Annabeth had said.

"You are not going to die while I owe you a favor. Why did you take that knife?" He spoke like nothing would've happened to him if she hadn't. These two are strange. Shut up, Tony. Not the time.

"You would've done the same for me." I saw the emotion in her eyes. So this is what love truly is. Being willing to sacrifice everything for the one you love, and to know they would do the same without hesitation.

The boy was silent for a moment, like he was pondering what she'd said. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" She echoed the statement that had popped into my head.

"My Achilles spot. If you hadn't taken that knife, I would've died." Ohhhhhh... What? What is he talking about? Of course he would've died if not for her! And what the hell is an Achilles spot? Like an Achilles' heel? But that's just a myth!

"I don't know, Percy. I just had this feeling you were in danger. Where... Where is the spot?" Well, now I know his name, at least. I'm so confused. What are they going on about? Is it some weak point for him or something?

"The small of my back." The tone of his voice makes me feel like I'm intruding. Clearly, this "Achilles spot" is something he keeps close to his chest. I feel like I should look away, but my sight is glued to the two of them.

"Where? Here?" She puts her hand on his back. Not quite where I think it is, but close. Just a little bit to the... He moves her hand down slightly, and suddenly he convulses, like I've seen happen to people suffering electrocution. Nasty experience.

"You saved me. Thanks." Understatement of the damn year, Percy! I want to yell at him, that something like that would be obvious to anyone else, but the dream begins to fade. Once more, I am thrown into darkness.


I wake up in the same cell as always. I get out of bed, flip off the camera, and wash myself up in the sink. Isolde down my breakfast, as though I haven't eaten in days. I certainly felt that way when I saw the food tray. Somehow the slop they give me manages to feel nourishing.

I settle down to read yet another book, a collection of Greek myths, to find out exactly what they meant when they said "Achilles spot." Of course it means something, Tony. Percy had shuddered like he'd had 10,000 volts put through him!

Then something unexpected happens. Something I prayed for, yet knew, in my heart, that would never come to pass. The door to my cell, which has been shut since I entered a year ago, days before my 12th birthday, was opened.

What is even more surprising is who has opened it. She looks at me past blond curls, with eyes that suggest she thinking over how best to take me down in a fight.

The eyes from my dream. I'm staring into the steely gray eyes of Annabeth.


This one took me a little while. First I had to acquire the quotes from the books to use in the chapter. Then I needed to actually pull myself away from reading others' work to finish my own. It's about 12:15 am as I finish this AN, so I don't know how the chapter is gonna turn out. After reviewing it myself, it seems a bit more packed than chapter 1. Please give me your thoughts as to quality. Next chapter is from Annabeth's POV. Pray for me. I don't know how to write a woman's POV. Tips welcome.