I survived. Amazing. Now to survive next week too.
And...wait for it... The Great Gatsby movie came out today.
Anyway, onto the story.
"Sh*t man…" One of the men whispered, "You just punched Captain Chase."
Percy's face registered outright shock, unable to believe that he had just broken Annabeth's nose. No, that can't be right. He couldn't have put that much force into the punch.
Major Castellan looked at him in a new manner, assessing him once more. He looked on thoughtfully, clearly not concerned about his officer's wellbeing. But Luke had enough reason to believe Annabeth was capable of taking care of herself.
He let go of his grasp on Percy as the latter shook off the other's restraining arm. Luke nodded once at Percy's questioning glare. Percy took off immediately, a million thoughts racing through his head.
How would Annabeth react? She was already ticked at him, and he wasn't doing much to get on her good side. Thus far, she had been slightly lenient on him. Maybe it was because she was suspicious, letting him do his thing and see where it led, but even this was too much.
He found her in the canteen again, nursing her wound with an ice pack. It really wasn't a pretty sight to see. She had a small pile of bloodied tissues next to her as she kept one hand with an ice pack firmly up against her nose. The beginnings of a nasty, purplish yellow bruise were starting to form on the side, already throbbing.
She wasn't paying attention to his entrance, her eyes fixated on the steel surface of the canteen tables instead.
"Annabeth," he said hesitantly, not wanting to startle her.
The look she gave him was similar to that of the one she had given him previously. The same harsh, gray, steely eyes stared back at him. They were not unkind. That would be an understatement; they were murderous, filled with hatred. She acknowledged his presence out of pure courtesy, "That's Captain Chase to you, Jackson."
Percy cleared his throat, "I am really sorry. I wasn't aiming for you."
"Obviously not," she sneered, "What more can I expect from the great boxer? Jackson, look here. I couldn't care less about being punched in the nose or its effects. What pisses me off is your attitude. As far as I can see, you aren't taking this the least bit serious. You don't just pick fights like that no matter what others say."
"I apologize," he said once more, quietly.
"Sorry doesn't cut it. You think that just because you declined a post in the Navy, you can do what you want here in the Marines. We take this seriously. I've been tolerating your attitude because of Secretary Mabus. Had it not been for him, you would have been booted the second you stepped foot in this enclosure. I expected better," towards the end of her tirade, Annabeth suddenly seemed weaker, as though speaking had taken all the energy from her.
"Captain?" Percy asked uncertainly as her head swayed a little. Annabeth covered her face with both her hands. Almost instantaneously, her head slouched forward, her face about to hit the cold metal surface of the table in front of her.
Percy managed to grab right before her head landed with a sickening thud on the hard table, starting to panic slightly. He had never been one to administer first aid before, and seeing Annabeth like this only put him to further shock. He was responsible for this.
Pulling the chair out urgently, he lifted Annabeth carefully, making sure not to hit anything as he hoisted her up on to his back. He made sure her arms were securely around his neck, her legs strapped around his waist. Her face lolled on his shoulder; the near proximity of it unnerved Percy slightly as he looked at the bloody nose. A punch to the nose couldn't cause a concussion could it? He had heard cases of fatal brain trauma, but the punch wasn't that hard. No matter how he tried to justify his actions, the product was right there in front of him.
Whatever be the case, Annabeth Chase either had a concussion or disorientation. But, she had managed to walk to the canteen after it. But speaking had exerted much of her remaining energy, causing her to slip into a semi-conscious state.
He couldn't let anyone see her like this. Percy knew perfectly well Annabeth's reaction were he to embarrass her. The last option that remained was to take her to the health facility via the back entrance of the canteen.
The way he walked was similar to that of a spy, making sure no one was watching as he carried his captain out. The medical facility was about a half mile from their current location, but everyone else was still in preparation for their field mission.
As he turned to give a quick glance, he noticed that the blood hadn't stopped yet. A little red smear appeared on his new uniform as he shuddered a little. It wasn't the blood that had bothered him. After all, he had been shot in the leg and recovered mostly. But seeing Annabeth so decapitated was enough to make him feel even a little queasy.
The walk seemed even longer than usual as the sweltering sun beat down his back. Carrying Annabeth was no easy picnic either. She was heavier than he had expected. No, it was not meant to be an insult, but it was understandable. With all the layers of attire officers were expected to wear, he wouldn't have been surprised if she had passed out from heat stroke.
Percy felt himself getting thirstier with every step. The dust in front of him was starting to pick up with the wind, forming a cloudy like haze. Great. It was like he was in the middle of the Sahara freakin' desert. Percy had a bone to pick with whoever decided his fate for the day. For some reason, an image of three old women kitting popped into his mind. He quickly waved off, naming it a hallucination from the heat and lack of water.
After what seemed to be hours, he found himself nearing the Marine clinic. With some considerable effort, he pushed the door open. An elderly woman came hurrying up to the swinging door, holding it open as he trudged him.
His arms were beginning to give out. The old woman helped him place Annabeth on one of the couches in the reception area.
"Oh dear," she fretted, "That's Captain Chase, isn't it?"
Percy nodded once, "She might have a concussion."
The woman looked up sharply from examining Annabeth, "What?"
"The punch she received was enough to make her unconscious, but I don't know if it's anything worse than that."
The old lady, Mrs. Aegle Arnolds as the nametag read, looked up at him dubiously, "Might I ask how she incurred the injury?"
Percy scratched his head nervously, feeling a little shameful, "It was my doing. She was in the way when I accidentally punched her. It was an accident!" He added the last part defensively as Mrs. Arnolds raised her eyebrows in disbelief.
Another younger woman came over with a quick step, leaning over to whisper something in Mrs. Arnolds's ear before giving Percy a quick shy smile and leaving.
"Young man, I will have to ask you to carry her again," Mrs. Arnolds gestured to the inert body of Annabeth. "We're not sure if we have adequate treatment if it does result in some brain injury, but we'll see what we can do. Whatever the case may be, it will take her a while to recover. It looks like it might be a nose bridge fracture."
"But, it was just a punch," he protested.
"Don't argue with me, Private. I have seen cases similar to this. Often times, people tend to underestimate things until they get serious. If I credit you for anything, it's for bringing her over immediately."
Percy scooped Annabeth up once more, this time in his arms. He was able to see a much clearer view of her face. It was worse than he had thought it was. The bleeding had stopped externally but the bruise looked even worse than before. The ice pack no longer covering the right part of her face, he noted the spread of the purple color wound, wincing every time he realized it was fault.
"Feeling guilty?" Mrs. Arnolds asked, her mouth twisted in a slight grin.
"Unbelievably so… I didn't actually think it was possible. I'm still in denial."
"You're in denial even after seeing her face? Are you blind? Young man, accept the mistake," she led him into one of the small rooms with some ventilation. The window was slightly open, only allowing for more dust than air to enter. The cot looked even more uncomfortable than the ones back in the barrack. Percy laid her down carefully, avoiding the back of cot frame.
"Then, I'll be leaving," he said quietly.
"I'll contact you if something happens. You are still responsible for Miss Chase's accident."
"I understand."
"Well then, you'll have to come back to the front entrance to sign some of the liability forms," she turned, leaving before he had a chance to speak.
Taking one last despondent look at Annabeth's blond head lying on the cot made him feel more shameful than he already was. So far, all of his actions had resulted in negative consequences for her. He knew the longer he stayed in there, the higher the stakes were that he'd either make something else worse or feel guilt-ridden.
As he took a step, a cold, clammy hand reached to grasp his wrist. He heard her stir in the bed slightly, as she slurred, still not fully conscious, "Don't leave yet, Jackson."
So, yeah… The whole thing about Percy feeling thirsty was because I was feeling really thirsty while writing this chapter, but I was too lazy to get up and get a drink.
I'm hoping to get out the Percabeth Mother's Day One-shot on Sunday. It's supposed to be a spin off from my other story, 100 Days with Mr. Arrogant, but it can be read as a stand-alone story too with just some references to the story, so keep an eye out for that.
Lastly, make sure to leave a review, fave, and follow for quicker updates. I will try to update by Thursday, but no promises. But actually, review and fave.
~TJ