Level B

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You all are so amazing. Here's  the update 😉

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Bobbi could understand why some people preferred to take the stairs. Elevators could be disconcerting, but they weren't that difficult to endure. It was, without question, much more convenient to ride down ten floors rather than walk ten flights of stairs.

However, the look of pure and absolute fear on the teen's faces when she led them in front of the steel elevator was definitely something new. They had been comfortable up until that point; she drew their blood samples easily enough, despite the boy's stubbornness and supposed hatred for needles. She was thankful that he was with Annabeth; without her, the past two days would have been absolutely horrid. She was the only one that could reign him in, which she found quite impressive. It reminded her a lot of her and Hunter's relationship.

But that was besides the point. Now she had to worry about a hyperventilating Jackson on the floor and a twitchy Chase.

She and Mack exchanged an uneasy look before they glanced down at the two.

"Jackson, get up," she scolded half-heartedly.  Chase whipped around to glare at her from where she was knelt next to the boy. The pair of piercing gray eyes were a mix of fear, pain and anger; tears threatened to spill out of them. She let go of Percy's hand only to whip a stray piece of frizzy curly hair behind her ear.

"Does he look like he's in any position to get up?" she said slowly, bitterly. Her voice was heavy with emotion.

And no. No he did not. Beads of sweat had appeared at his hairline, now dripping down his face. His knuckles were white in fists on the ground, and his face was scrunched up in pain. If she didn't know better, she might of guessed he was having a heart attack.

But, given the past few seconds she did know better. As soon as the two had seen the elevator, something had changed. Annabeth had gasped and frozen on the spot, while Percy simply stiffened. He had put his arm around her shoulders and carefully led her toward the open doors, mumbling quietly to her the entire way. They had stood in silence like that untill they reached the bottom floor. Then, the doors dinged and began to open.

Cue instant panic attack.

Mack noticed Annabeth's distress and kneeled down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. She flinched but made no effort to move it. "It's okay, kid," he soothed. "He's just having a panic attack. He'll be fine."

"You're wrong," she whispered as she searched her boyfriend's face, pushing his hair out of his face; it slicked back, wet with perspiration. "And you don't think I know that?"

Mack looked between the two teens. "This happens a lot?"

"More than it should."

The bulky agent hesitated before responding. "What does he need? How can I help?"

Annabeth turned to him in suprise.  "Uh, water?" she responded warily, as though she didn't  expect him to actually help. "And we need to get out of this elevator," she shuddered.

Following her instructions, the two agents helped drag Jackson out of the metal box. The B floor was mainly empty next to a few agents walking through, the few that immediately stopped to see the commotion. They crowded around the two teens pressed agaisnt the wall like a mob of superfans excited for an autograph from their favorite celebrity.

"Back up!" Annabeth commanded. Despite being a prisoner, it was hard not to follow her order. Those who refused were faced with her glare of death. "He's already in a panic, he doesn't need to freak out from claustrophobia too. Back. Up."

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