Disclaimer: I do not own Mob Doctor or PJO
I had been shot. Moretti had fucking shot me! I kept running not even looking back.
One day later
I was curled up in bed the bullet wound in my leg keeping me in constant pain. I prayed to my father, my actual father, Apollo. He was the god of healing he could help out his daughter right.
'Dad,' I prayed, 'my leg is killing me can you pretty please heal it. I can't have the flu forever you should know that more than anyone else.'
A second later a bright light enveloped my room. I turned away as to not get vaporized by the light.
"Dad," I breathed; happy he was here so I could get back to work sooner rather than later.
"Grace," he says, examining my leg, "You did quite the number here Grace."
"I know dad can you please fix it."
"Can I? I'm offended you even asked that question."
"Sorry dad," I say as he bends my leg making me scream in pain. He waves his hand over my leg, the pain slowly going away.
"You're going to need to get some pain med's for that but you should be able to walk on it after that."
"Thank you."
"No problem kiddo but I recommend you get out of this business you're in before you're dealing with my dear old Uncle Hades."
"Sure."
"Goodbye Grace. You know how to get me if you need me." With that he disappears just as he came. I grab my cellphone. Time to get some pain med's.
AN: I thought of this while I was watching Grace run all over the hospital on her leg not even seeming like it phased her at all. I figured this was as good an explanation as any.