This part is that one section in the end of the last Olympian where Annabeth faints in the throne room. Using it as a preface. Don't own it. Rick does. I'm just a lowly girl from GA.
Next to me, Annabeth's knees buckled. I caught her, but she cried out in pain, and I realized I'd grabbed her broken arm.
"Oh gods", I said. "Annabeth, I'm sorry."
"It's all right," she said and passed put in my arms.
"She needs help!" I yelled.
"I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and a perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear. " God of medicine, at your service."
He passed his hand over Annabeth's face a spoke an incantation. Immediately, the bruises gfaded. Her cuts and scars disappeared. Her arm straightened, and she sighed in her sleep.
Apollo grinned. "She'll be fine in a few minutes. Just enough time for me to compose a poem about our victory: 'Apollo and his friends save Olympus.' Good eh?"
"Thanks, Apollo," I said. " I'll, um, let you handle the poetry."
