It was intimately ritualistic the way they tended to each other's wounds post-battle. It was always the same. The way they closed themselves in Percy's room, or cabin or which ever place was closest that they identified as theirs, as home, as safe. There was always a basket of bandages and peroxides, a bag of ambrosia and a bottle of nectar. There was always them. Percy and Annabeth. It had been their way since Tartarus, since having only each other to rely on. They would hole themselves up by themselves, and with the click of the doors lock they would lose their guards to each other and their being alone. They by no means believed that a locked door could honestly keep anything that wanted to get in from doing so, but it gave to them a sense of privacy and safety on the most basic of levels. That that particular event was finished with, and needn't be looked back on.
So long as Percy could stand, Annabeth would be the one tended to first. Always. This time was no different. He tugged her shirt, and her arms came up with it, baring her torso to the Son of Poseidon. His eyes raked across her stomach, a frown darkening his eyes as he took in the bruising and cuts marring her tanned skin, a pained grimace replacing that when he found the wound that had bloodied her shirt so badly. He sat on the bed behind him, pulling her with him to stand between his legs. "You shouldn't have taken that for me." he murmured softly, his fingers coming up to trace around it, pulling them away when he heard her hiss. He instead lightly placed his hands on her hips and gently tugged her further forward, placing a soft kiss on the skin in front of him. "And let you be hurt worse, Percy?" she stated just as softly. The unspoken fact she would never let that happen already known to them both. It was their way, they would always, watch each others backs and neither would they have it any other way. They protected each other equally.
He reached under his bed for the basket to heal her with, his gaze traveling up to her face. "Sit." his eyes motioned to the space next to him, and he started to pull the necessary items out. The command was barely needed, so ingrained on them the way they looked after each other after one or both were hurt. While Annabeth's wound could easily be healed with godly food, since Tartarus they preferred to leave that for worse wounds knowing smaller ones like this could be healed the mortal way, they wouldn't waste the supply's they had away from camp. Not that it would stop Percy insisting he cleanse the wound with a small drop of nectar.
As she took her place beside him, he unraveled a bandage and opened up the nectar, spilling a drop or two on it. He only smiled lopsidedly at her warning glare, and proceeded to hide his grin when she rolled her eyes in reply. Bandaging her waist near professionally, mumbling apologies when she hissed in pain, he fixed the white cloth in place and pulled her closer, kissing her bare shoulder. She wrapped her own arms around his middle with a sigh, glad they were both as safe as they could be in his room. "You're not hurt?" she asked, as she rested her head below his own. "No." He shook his head, even as Annabeth grudgingly pulled back and moved her hands down a few inches to pull at the hem of his shirt. Obediently he let her take it off, she would never believe him till she saw with her own eyes.
Feeling her eyes trace his own torso, he looked down too, mentally wincing when he noticed the colourful array that did actually decorate it, though he was free of cuts. "Liar." she sang softly, a teasing edge to her voice seeing there was nothing life threatening. "Nothing that won't heal with out treatment, Annabeth." he murmured pointedly, pulling her back to him seeing she was satisfied he was okay. Falling back to lay against his pillows he arranged them both till he was sure they were comfortable, the both of them tired. "You staying?" he mumbled into her hair with closed eyes, as if he even needed her answer. The quiet affirmative let him relax further anyway, his arms gripping her to him tighter, though wary of her cut. "Good."
He could have argued she shouldn't have gotten in the way of the monsters claws, and she could have argued he shouldn't be a protective, seaweed brained idiot, but they'd long come to agree they would both still do the same thing over again, and why have the argument again, when they could enjoy the fact neither was close to greeting Thantos. So laying there in each others arms where they felt safest, they let themselves drift off, both content knowing whether in battle or when they tended to each others wounds, they'd do it together.