Paul already had a strange feeling about the Jackson's. They were keeping a secret; though Paul wasn't sure he wanted to know it. Whenever a strange occurrence happened in the Jackson's residence, Sally apparently knew exactly what was going on.

She never shared any of the information with Paul. If Paul asked her about she'd say, "That's a story for another time" or "It's Percy's job to tell you."

Sally also seemed like the over-protective mother type. But whenever her son came home with various injuries, she didn't rush him to the ER or anything. She'd study the gashed quickly and carefully, as if deciding what had created the wounds. Then she would ask, "How many?"

Percy would usually answer with "Two" or "Three" Sally would nod, hand him a cookie, and something that looked like lemon bars. She would proceed to act like the whole matter was a scraped knee from the skate park.

Percy would heal quickly too. He'd go into the bathroom and shower; his wounds began to look better. He'd take a bite of a lemon bar and take a swig from his canteen. In two days, he'd look like new. Percy also barely scarred.

Once he came home with a deep cut in his calf, like a knife had dug into his flesh. When it healed, it looked no worse than a chicken pox scar.

Yes, there was something unusual about the Jackson's, but that didn't stop Paul from marrying Sally. It didn't stop him from wanting to live with them.

Paul was grading papers late one night in the living room. Sally was at a writer's conference in Jersey, and Percy was staying the night at a friend's house.

Paul was subconsciously listening to the muffled sounds of New York through a closed window. He heard the rusty metal of the fire escape. He didn't think much of it. Many families often did fire drills in the building. Or maybe it was the window cleaners.

He resumed grading papers until he heard the sound of New York grow louder and cleaner. Burglars, Paul immediately thought. Paul tip toed torwards the kitchen so I he wouldn't alarm the intruders.

He silently pulled a sharp knife from a drawer and stalked towards the room with the fire escape, Percy's room. His hand had just reached the doorknob when he heard the first voice.

"We're going to get caught, Seaweed Brain." It was a girl's voice.

"No we're not." A male's voice said. Paul was shocked, it was Percy's. "My mom's in Jersey, and Paul is a heavy sleeper." The girl sighed.

"I'm still not sure about this." she said quietly.

"I'm sorry I didn't have any on hand. Let's just get it, use it, and go." Percy ordered. Paul heard rummaging around the room.

"Where is it?" The girl asked.

"Check my dresser." Percy said. "Top drawer, behind my camp shirts." A wooden drawer opened, and then closed.

"Okay, I got it." the girl said. Percy responded something but Paul couldn't make it out. Percy was in his closet and was rummaging around. Paul heard alot of metal clanging.

"Found it!" Percy announced in a rather loud whisper. "Sit down and take off your jacket."

"Seaweed Brain, can we at least not do it here?" There was a pause of silence like Percy was thinking. "Please?"

"Whatever Wise Girl." Percy decided. "Ladies first."

The old fire escape groaned under the weight of the girl. Paul knew this was his last chance to catch Percy.

Now or never. Paul thought. He twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open just in time to see Percy half way out the window.

"Percy," Paul said preparing for some parental speech. Percy snapped his head around, eyes wide and Paul gasped at the sight.

"Percy," Paul said slightly horrified, "get in here. Bring your friend." Percy did as he was told. He climbed in and put his head outside the window.

"We've been caught Annabeth. Come on in."

A girl with curly blonde hair and grey eyes climbed in through the window. "I told you so." She muttered angirly to Percy.

"Can it, Wise Girl." Percy snapped.

Both kids looked the same. Cuts and bruises covered their faces. Their limbs were covered in scrapes and gashes. They were covered in blood. Most was dried, some was still streaming out of open wounds.

Both kids were wearing shredded orange shirts, dark wash jeans, and black running shoes. Their shirts were shredded. Paul could see Percy's chest, and Annabeth's purple cami.

"Oh God. What happened to you two?" Paul asked at the sight.

Annabeth was about to answer, but Percy stopped her. "Nothing that concerns you." Percy snapped again.

"This concerns me. We need to get you to the doctors and call your mom and," Percy cut him off.

"We don't need to go to the doctors. We can handle this ourselves."

"Have you seen yourselves?" Paul asked shocked. "You could get infected o-o-or loose to much blood."

"We can handle this ourselves." Percy said more forcibly.

Annabeth spoke up. "You haven't told yet?" Her question was directed at Percy.

"I was planning to tell him after Christmas." Percy said.

"Planning to tell me what?" Paul asked curiously.

"The truth." Percy said.

This is going to be a three-shot. Please Review. If you get a chance, check out my other stories. :)