Title: Trapped

Author: IndigoNight

Summary: Someone unexpected comes to Grover's rescue.

Feedback: Yes please, yay reviews!

Pairing: Grover/Tyson friendship

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson And The Olympians or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun.

Spoilers: AU, so no.

Warnings: Character death?

Author's Note: So, I wrote most of this like a year and a half ago, I just never finished it. I just finished Lost Hero, and realized I'd never published any PJ fics, even though I knew I'd at least started to write some, so I looked back through them and found this. It's kinda sad, but I love Tyson, so 'nough said. Read, Review,

Enjoy!

When the battle finally ended, it was Tyson of all people who found him. The Cyclops had always frightened him, since his terrible experience with Polyphemeus he'd been rightfully wary of the one-eyed. But when Tyson rumbled over to him and started trying to heave the massive pieces of stone off of him, he didn't even have the energy for the automatic thrill of fear he usually felt.

"Don't worry, Tyson will get you out," the Cyclops assured.

Grover groaned weakly. Pain shot through him with each tiny shift of the stones on top of him.

"No, stop," he cried, voice breaking, "You're making it worse!" As Tyson tried to shift the stones they were only settling further down on him, heavier, tighter, slowly crushing him. He felt panic surging through him, a thick crossbeam that had settled over his chest was making it impossible to breathe.

He choked, panic over ridding his ability to think clearly and keep calm, causing him to hyperventilate.

Tyson listened to him and stopped trying to move the debris. He dropped down next to Grover hard enough to make the ground shake. "Breathe," he said his normally childish voice surprisingly firm and commanding. It worked, Grover's breathing evened out a little, and he gazed up at Tyson with frightened eyes.

"Tyson will get you out," the Cyclops assured determinedly, "Will get others to help." Tyson moved to stand but Grover stopped him with a whispered

"No." Panic was swelling in him again. He thought about the unknown length of time he'd lain there waiting to be found, alone and in pain. Though he'd hate to admit it, at least to the Cyclops, he was terrified to be left alone like that again. Some deep rooted fear was curled in his gut that if Tyson did leave him alone, by the time he got back with help it'd be too late. He couldn't be certain exactly how badly hurt he was under the rubble, but judging from the pain levels and the amount of wet stickiness spreading over his legs it was serious.

Tyson stopped, looking faintly confused, "Need help; can't move rocks alone."

Grover shook his head, "Don't leave me," he whispered. Something wet was filling his lungs, and he descended into a fit of coughing trying to dispel it.

Tyson rumbled uncertainly for a moment then shouted loud enough to nearly split Grover's eardrums, "Help! Come help!" Once he was sure the others had heard his call and were on their way he sat down by Grover's head.

"Will be okay," he assured helpfully. Grover wasn't particularly inclined to believe him, but he didn't argue.

Soon they were swarmed with other demigods. The Hephaestus kids started setting up some sort of pulley and lever system, the Apollo kids tried to assess the damage, they all tried to comfort him and assure him he'd be alright.

But somehow, nothing was as comforting as the steady rumble of Tyson next to him.

When they finally managed to get the debris off of him the pain crashed over him in an entirely new intensity, but at least he could breathe again. He automatically started to look down, but a massive hand stopped him.

Tyson cupped Grover's entire face in his palm, preventing him from looking at his body. "Don't want to look," Tyson told him seriously. He was right, Grover really didn't want to look, but he probably wouldn't have been able to stop himself had Tyson not continued to block his view.

"Will be okay," Tyson soothed, and he might have been lying, but Grover let himself believe. He let himself focus on Tyson's face while the Apollo kids swarmed around him, let the innate rumble of Tyson drown out their frantic, horrified voices, let the warmth of Tyson's hand still cupping his face warm his body which was slowly going cold.

"Thank you, Tyson," he whispered, eyes slowly closing.

Author's Note 2: Grover died, right? Is it sad that I don't know? Me = strange