Oh goody, the story I hate writing! lol, I'm mostly kidding, but still... I just have a strong dislike for abandoning stories. -shrug- Whatevaz. Just read the damn chapter already!

Dedicated to Gamsky, for reminding me to update. =P BTW, a beta would not help me, since the problem I have is actually finding time to write, not editing. Thanks anyway though. =)

APOV

I lay on the cot in the infirmary, gazing up at the white ceiling above my head. My left arm was heavily swathed with bloodstained white cloth, along with my bandaged abdomen and right thigh. In addition to these covered wounds, I sported a Tweety Bird band aid on my right cheek, another on my chin, and one last one above my left eyebrow.

To state the obvious, I was kinda torn up.

I don't know what I was thinking, challenging Clarisse to a fight when she was obviously already furious and in possession of a sword, whereas I only had a knife in hand. To my credit, though, Clarisse was sound asleep in the cot across the room from me, both hands heavily bandaged and more white cloth binding her upper arms and shoulders. As one might deduce from her wounds, I had been trying to take Clarisse's arms out of commission in order to win the fight.

As one also might realize from my own sliced-up state, this method had not proven very successful.

"Give it up, Annabeth," Clarisse snarled, blood soaking through the sleeves of her jacket and spurting from her hands to spangle the dirt floor of the arena. "I have a sword, and I'm pissed off. You have a dagger, and you're just pathetically sad 'cause Travis Stoll of all people doesn't like you!"

My hand tightened on my knife, and I could feel more blood flowing from one of the gashes on my right arm in response to the movement. "Travis is none of your business!" I snapped back, lunging to slash her sword arm again.

Clarisse nimbly dodged my blow, but winced as she switched her sword from her wounded right hand to her equally bloody left. "He's none of your business either, Wise Girl," Clarisse bit out between gritted teeth. "I didn't think a stupid son of Aphrodite could make you forget ol' Seaweed-for-Brains. But you have proven me wrong with your idiocy."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I retorted, stepping back and deflecting Clarisse's sword with the edge of my knife. My arms moved more slowly than before though, and my fingers were slippery with blood. I had to hold onto my knife tightly so it wouldn't slide from my grasp. "Are you talking about Percy?"

Clarisse barked out a short laugh, her eyes wide with both disbelief and condecension. "And they say you're smart," she purred sarcastically. "No, I'm not talking about Percy. I mean the other son of Poseidon at camp- duh." She rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm talking about Percy, idiot! Your damn boyfriend!"

"Percy is not my boyfriend," I informed her, gasping in breaths of air between strikes. "I don't even like him as a friend, and I can't remember much about him anyway. He went off on some quest to get a medicene for me that I don't even need. Seems like a stupid guy to me."

Clarisse just laughed again. "I think he's stupid, but you're stupider for dating him, Wise Girl," she replied. "Just 'cause Eros nipped you doesn't mean you should let him affect you like that. You're just too weak, I guess. Pathetic."

I narrowed my eyes at her, trying again to slash at her hands. Clarisse simply parried away my knife and lunged back at me. I forced my legs to move me out of the way, but Clarisse was too quick with her sword. The blade bit deep into my thigh, red streams of blood instantly springing from the gash as she withdrew the sword. I could only gasp in pain as I fell to the ground, sliding onto my back and dropping my knife as I clutched my leg.

"See what I mean? You're weak," Clarisse spat down at me. "You can't defeat Eros, and you can't defeat me. You'd think that after surviving all you have, you'd be strong, but I guess you're just lucky, or maybe Percy is strong enough for both of you. Because you are pathetic," Clarisse hissed. I paid no attention to her words- my mind was racing in an attempt to find a way out of losing this battle. That's when I noticed -with no small satisfaction- that Clarisse was swaying on her feet. This was most likely an effect of the blood loss I had caused her.

So I wasn't a guaranteed loser of this battle- not yet.

And before Clarisse could say another word, I pulled my legs in, locked them together, and sprung feet-first at her. Clarisse's eyes widened, and she flashed out her sword to protect herself, but my combat boots just kicked the flat of the blade straight into her collar bone. This effectively cut up Clarisse's shoulders and knocked her flat on her back at the same time. She hit the ground hard and didn't stir again.

Unfortunately, I wasn't doing so well myself. That kick had thrown my right leg into a metaphorical bonfire, and I couldn't see because of the pain clouding my vision. Maybe donkey-kicking Clarisse wasn't the best idea right after she slashed my leg open… I mused. Note to self: for future reference, DON'T DO THIS EVER AGAIN. My body pulsed with fire, focusing in with white-hot liquid flame on every nick and gash Clarisse had scored on me.

And it was right around there when I blacked out.

I woke up in this cot, all neatly bandaged up and exceedingly achey everywhere. When I saw myself in a mirror, I almost fainted again at all of the wounds I was sporting. Clarisse had bashed me around pretty well with that pretty bronze blade of hers, but I took satisfaction in the fact that I had successfully returned the favor. Peeking out from the neckline of her shirt were the tips of two purple, boot-shaped bruises. If I matched them up with my own shoes, it would have been a Cinderella worthy fit. I smiled at the thought.

The smile pulled at the band aid on my cheek, painfully stretching the scarring cut underneath. I winced, instantly making my face fall back into a neutral expression. The pain stopped abruptly, and I moodily rubbed my cheek.

The world is a sad place when a simple action like smiling hurts.

"Annabeth?" someone asked tentatively. I opened my eyes, which had been previously shut in a weak attempt to rest, and looked up at my visitor.

"Hey Grover," I greeted him, managing a sort of half smile thing to spare my right cheek from repeating my prior smiling attempt. "What's up?"

"Well, you saw Travis making out with Katie Gardner, so you got ticked off and ran away, and the next time anyone sees you you're lying next to Clarisse in the sword arena, both of you knocked out and gushing blood!" Grover ranted. "What's wrong with you Annabeth?"

I scowled at him, ignoring the protest of the cuts on my face. "What's wrong with me?" I asked incredulously. "What's wrong with all of you guys? Why do you keep bugging me about Percy? Why is he on a solo quest? And why won't anyone explain why every single person in the freaking camp disapproves of me liking Travis?" I demanded. I could feel a slight blush tinge my cheeks at my last question, but ignored it as I glared defiantly at Grover. I needed my questions answered. Now.

Grover shifted uneasily, avoiding all eye contact with me. He stared at the roll of bandaging on my bedside table instead as he spoke. "Chiron says we aren't allowed to talk about Percy's quest," he hedged evasively. "But Annabeth, we all know that you shouldn't be liking Travis as any more than a friend. That's why we disapprove."

"Why shouldn't I like Travis?" I persisted, sitting up in my bed. "What's wrong with that? Plenty of girls like him!" Like Katie Gardner, my treacherous mind piped up.

"You're Percy's girlfriend, Annabeth!" Grover blurted out, unable to take this any longer. "Percy loves you! You love Percy! He went on that quest because he loves you!"

I stared at Grover. "That's not true," I declared firmly. "I don't even remember ever being friends with Percy. How could I be his girlfriend?"

"You are!" Grover wailed, obviously distressed. "You've been dating him for months!"

My brows furrowed, and I started to seriously consider Grover's mental health. There was something wrong with him, if he was so convinced that I was in love with Percy. "Grover, maybe you should be the one in the infirmary," I told him seriously. "I'm just messed up physically. At least I can get my facts straight."

Grover threw up his hands in frustration, then turned and left the infirmary without a second word in reply.

I looked after him for a moment, then shrugged. It was his fault if he wanted to live in denial.

"Hey Annabeth?"

I took my eyes off the spot where Grover had burst out the infirmary doors, turning to look up at the speaker. It a son of Apollo standing by my bed, looking at me carefully. "We've done all of the healing we can for now," he explained, "so just rest for today and tomorrow we'll send you back out on crutches, okay?"

"Sounds good," I replied, settling back among my pillows. "And Clarisse?"

The Apollo kid grimaced. "Clarisse punched Laurana," he nodded towards a blonde girl bandaging someone's wrist on the other side of the infirmary, "when she tried to heal her, so we're just letting Clarisse recuperate the old fashioned way," he confided to me.

I grinned. "That's fine by me," I assured him. "Clarisse can deal with some knife cuts on her arms and a bruised chest. I, on the other hand, have to go on crutches for…" I raised an eyebrow at the Apollo kid. "How long?"

He shrugged. "Two, three weeks?" he suggested. "If it was a bone we could heal it faster, but since your lovely friend hit the muscle and artery, it will take a hell of a lot longer to recover fully."

I nodded at this information. That seemed reasonable enough to me. "Okay, I guess I can deal with that," I sighed, closing my eyes and relaxing into the pillows stacked around my shoulders.

"Sleeping will help you recover faster," he added. "So get as much rest as you can, okay?"

"Thanks, James," I mumbled, already half-asleep. I was tired, okay? Major blood loss is kind of exhausting on the body.

James started. "You know my name?" he asked, sounding curious. "How do you remember me out of so many others? I've never even spoken to you before."

I smiled slightly. "I didn't know," I replied, drifting off even as I spoke. "I've been calling you 'the Apollo kid' in my mind this whole time. I just guessed your name was James."

James snorted, and I let out a sleepy laugh. "Damn you Athena kids," he muttered. "You're all too smart for your own good."

"Got that right, Buster," I yawned, snuggling deeper into my pillows. And just like that, I was asleep.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU SHOT ANNABETH CHASE WITH ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR ARROWS?" a furious, yet beautiful voice thundered. I cringed slightly. That lady sounded pissed off.

I pitied whoever was the poor sucker who had ticked her off in the first place.

"Mother, I was just-" a deeper, whiny voice tried to interrupt.

"NO EXCUSES!" the lady shrieked, cutting the man off mid-sentence. "I LET YOU OFF THE HOOK THE FIRST TIME BECAUSE PERCY IS SO CUTE WHEN HES ALL WORRIED ABOUT HIS GIRLFRIEND, BUT THIS IS TOO FAR! I HATE ANNABETH AND TRAVIS SHIPPING! HATE! IT!"

"I know, Mother, I didn't expect her to see Travis Stoll first-"

"BUT SHE DID!"

"Calm down-"

"CALM DOWN? CALM DOWN? Zeus said that Percy isn't even supposed to succeed in his quest, and Annabeth is half DEAD in the camp infirmary! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, AND YOU HAVE THE SASS TO TELL YOUR MOTHER TO CALM DOWN?" Wait, what? What did this lady know about Percy's quest? And I was half-dead? I guessed she was right, considering the severe blood loss I was suffering from, courtesy of Clarisse.

Well now that I thought about it, that kind of sucked.

"Well, at least this got Katie Gardner and Travis Stoll together finally," the male voice pointed out soothingly. Now that I thought about it, he sounded vaguely familiar. Where had I heard that voice before?

"Well, that's true." The lady sounded somewhat mollified. "BUT YOU STILL RUINED MY FAVORITE PAIRING! Percabeth is so cute! AND YOU OBLITERATED IT WITH YOUR DAMN ARROWS!"

Okay, so maybe not mollified.

"Mother, I promise I will get them back together," the man assured her. "I just wanted to see how strong my arrows were on people that were actually in love."

"Well, now you know," the lady snipped back, still sounding miffed. "You are forbidden to use your arrows unless I say so for a whole century!"

"What? Motherrrr..." the man whined.

"NO BUTS!" the lady boomed, her voice suddenly sounding as if it could shake Mount Everest from its anchoring. "You are grounded, Eros!"

The dream started to fade, but not before I could feel a jolt of panic in my stomach. Eros? That was Aphrodite's son, so...

Crap. I had just eavesdropped on a goddess grounding her son. But more importantly, why did Eros sound so familiar? I hadn't met that god before...

Had I?

ATTENTION! IMPORTANTE!

Okay, so I got a ton of angry responses yelling at me to update, which I know I totally deserve. =/ I'm sorry, but this story is really not my first priority, and I have a ton of work and activities and school and homework and crap to deal with outside of Fanfiction. Also, I made it into an all-state band where over 1600 people auditioned to get in, so I'm pretty focused on that right now. =) I haven't updated some stories in MONTHS though, and I am truly sorry for that. I'll strive to finish this story as quickly and well as possible, but please bear with me as I struggle through this maddening thing called Life.

Thank you so much for all of your support, and as always, please review! What did you think of Eros' and Aphrodite's argument?

~TMI~