Goode is Taken Hostage.

Unexpected visitors.

It was late that evening that the teenagers came; 20 hours into Percy's coma.

The room had been mostly quiet, the school children had become more subdued and everyone present had fallen silent: the children had exhausted their theories and unnanswered questions for now and there'd be no new information on Percy until he woke up. If he woke up.

The sound of the clock hand rhythmically twitching from one second to the next echoed uncomfortably around the room, unnaturally loud in the mournful silence.

Then the teenagers burst in. 15 of them! Invading the blackened atmosphere with their urgency. Running in, they all looked different. The first two wore mismatched clothes; the girl, native american, her uneven ebony hair had a blood red feather in it which swayed as she ran, she wore a bright orange t-shirt and jeans. Not ripped like was the fashion, but well-crafted, hard-wearing ones which would withstand any amount of physical activity. The boy next to her wore the same with the addition of a purple jacket with the letters SPQR scrawled across it in the way a normal teenager would wear an NYC jacket and with his military cut blond hair and striking blue eyes and their tired, worn expressions, these teenagers were definitely not normal.

Following them came another couple, these ones both in purple t-shirts, the boy was heavily built but had a kind face and manner, the girl had shining golden eyes, like glinting metal.

After them, a Hispanic boy with curly hair and singed clothes, a tank-like girl carrying a poll, a boy with quick fingers staying  close to her. Next a couple, one with curly blond hair like sunshine, his boyfriend radiating an aura of anger and grief which mirrored his choice in tough, black clothes. Then two identical boys with the unmistakable air of trouble-makers, but subdued and sad and a girl, who tightly held one of the identical boys, who had tanned skin and smelt of a garden.

Then finally, a girl wearing punk clothes and a silver circlet in her night-sky hair barged in, pushing the others aside and behind her......a strong, grey-eyed girl with princess curls and tear-streaked cheeks, her eyes were just like Percy's, haunted but resilient, however hers...hers were now drowned in tears, another sadness added to her already traumatic life.

They came in in just a few seconds, when they did their hardened eyes scanned the room, every person, every exit, every camera and every possible threat noticed and catalogued. They stopped when they saw Paul with Sally's head rested on his shoulder as she slept. The tired teacher carefully held a finger to his lips, not wanting to wake his exhausted wife.

The blond ran straight to them and hugged them as if the contact was the only thing keeping  her tethered to reality and they cried together, sharing their worry and fear.

"Hi, Annabeth." Mumbled the English teacher.

"Oh Paul." The strong young soldier sobbed into his other shoulder, not able to articulate her emotions.

The others gathered around, knowing not to press yet, they'd get the information they needed.

Tears rolled silently down their faces as they sat down. They sat, but they did not sit still, every teenager kept moving somehow; the Hispanic boy tapped his fingers along the chairs handle, a precise pattern over and over, the tank girl fiddling with what looked like knives, the black-clothed boy flicking cards in his hands. None stayed completely still and they all constantly scanned the room, alert for and danger and subtly glancing up at every sound that broke the silence. Everyone of them watching sadly as the crying blond ran to Percy's room.

"Um.....hi?" One of the schoolkids wasn't as afraid as the others. The demigods may have even respected him for the courage, but then he made a mistake; "Who are you?"