15. Hypothermia

It was only the third time Percy had ever been shot down while riding Blackjack. He wondered if that was a heartening statistic or not, then decided that it didn't matter either way. Annabeth would kill him regardless.

Besides, shot down seemed to imply that it was Percy himself who had been shot and not the real casualty of this story: Blackjack.

"There, there, buddy," Percy soothed, finishing up his makeshift bandage on the pegasus's wing.

The arrow had torn clean through his faithful stead's wing, lodging firmly in the flank of the gentle beast. Percy had been hesitant to pull it out, but with Blackjack moaning and writhing, forcing the arrow in deeper and deeper with every convulsion, he had finally given in and disposed of the cursed thing.

Which left them in their current position: Blackjack too injured to fly or walk, Percy too injured to walk for help. Not that anyone nearby would be much help. They had been flying over Montana of all places. A place short in supply not only of demigods but regular normal people as well. Because that was just Percy's luck. The only saving grace was that Blackjack managed to stay afloat and get them several miles out of danger before tumbling out of the sky. So it was highly unlikely their monstrous pursuers would be able to find them.

Small miracles.

"Annabeth will find us and we'll be able to get you out of here," Percy soothed Blackjack, scratching him gently behind one great ear.

Oh boss, I really messed up, Blackjack lamented.

"You didn't mess up—"

I fell on you.

"Only a little. A little ambrosia and I'll be right as rain. It's not even really broken I don't think."

His leg ached something fierce but as someone who had broken his fair share of bones in his rather violent life, Percy was nearly positive of this fact. It wasn't strong enough for him to go gallivanting off to see if there was a nearby farmer who could provide them shelter. Montana had a lot of farmers, right? Percy felt like that was a thing. They would have food for Blackjack and a warm place for his poor Pegasus to lay.

Percy doubted they would get so lucky. He absently rubbed at his arms, holding back a shiver from the chill of the night. He had a coat but it suffered substantial damage from the attack earlier as well as their impromptu meeting with the ground. It was the dead of winter and he dreaded the final setting of the sun, doubting his coat would succeed in warding off the chill.

Boss, you, you should go see if there are some humans nearby, man there have to be, and they can keep you warm until the demigods show up, I'll be fine, boss, really—

"I'm not leaving you," Percy firmly asserted for the hundredth time that night. "We'll be fine, stop your worrying."

Blackjack shifted anxiously. His wing had to be causing him pain and Percy only wished there was something he could do about it. The pegasus didn't say anything about it, however, but bravely ignored it.

At least come here, boss, I can keep you warm.

Percy looked over at the pegasus. Blackjack flapped his good wing impatiently, tossing his great head back in annoyance when Percy didn't immediately hobble over.

C'mon, boss, c'mon, you'll freeze to death and then where would I be?

"Someone would come get you," Percy huffed, but the cold of the night was sinking into his damaged coat and he couldn't quell the shivers that shook his body so he didn't put up much of a fight.

He shuffled closer to Blackjack and let the great horse settle his undamaged wing around his lord's son. Percy leaned against Blackjack, wrapping his own arms around himself as he unabashedly curled into the warm pegasus.

Don't say things like that, Blackjack scolded, twisted his head around to gently nip at Percy's hair. Boss, I don't know what I'd do without you. Also, your dad would turn me into glue.

"No he wouldn't," Percy denied, although he wasn't entirely certain. He paused, frowning as he realized Blackjack was shaking.

"Blackjack, you're shivering."

Just a little boss, don't worry about me, it's the wing mostly ya know, it just hurts a spot, nothing to go worrying about—

"Too late for that," Percy groaned and he tried to push Blackjack's wing off of him.

Wait, stop, boss, where are you going—

"I'm going to see if I can find a nearby farmer, there has to be one around here somewhere—"

On that leg? Boss, you know you can't walk on that leg and what happens if you get too cold? You'll freeze to death, no, no stay here and I can keep you warm.

They bickered for a while, Blackjack effectively trapping the demigod between his wing and body, refusing to let him out. The sun set on their struggle, taking with it the lingering warmth in the air.

Hey, hey boss? Blackjack asked uncertainly.

"Hm?" Percy asked.

He was too tired to really fight with the pegasus anymore. Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, Blackjack had a point. He couldn't walk very fast on his leg and with the increasingly falling temperature, he wasn't sure if he could ever make it far enough to find help.

Should have left earlier, Percy thought guiltily.

Boss you're bein' awful quiet, Blackjack said hesitantly. And you're shaking a lot.

"Just a little c-cold," Percy denied, burrowing deeper into his faithful companion. Blackjack was definitely warm, but the feathers of his wing let the biting wind through.

Boss, Blackjack began again only to falter.

"I'm f-fine, Blackjack," Percy repeated firmly, tucking his hands under his arms to try and conserve heat.

He blearily stared out at the desolate plain before them. Not a soul in sight. No monsters, no demigods to the rescue. No random farmers come to save the day.

"How l-long you f-figure until the sun c-comes back?"

Soon, boss, soon, Blackjack lied.

"Liar," Percy muttered fondly, closing his eyes.

Hey, hey boss, stay awake yeah? Blackjack said nervously, giving his flank a gentle shake. C'mon boss, talk to me, yell at me, somethin'.

"'S still not your f-fault," Percy muttered.

I know, I know, I promise to stop blaming myself, if you stay awake boss okay?

Percy hummed, not quite committed to the promise when he suddenly . . .

"Do you f-feel that?" Percy asked, an awareness creeping along his consciousness, rousing him into a semi-alert state.

What, what is it, boss? Blackjack's head snapped up, anxiously scanning the horizon.

"I . . . I'm not s-sure," Percy said, forcing his half-frozen fingers to reach into his pocket for Riptide.

Wait, wait, I see something, Blackjack said, falling silent when a mass appeared on the horizon.

The sensation in the back of Percy's mind took shape as the mass drew closer and Percy couldn't help a choked sort of laughter that escaped his shivering lips.

"H-horses," Percy croaked as he watched in wonder as the thundering herd galloped across the plain.

Blackjack said nothing at all, too amazed by the sight before them. The wild horses threw their heads back, snorting in the cold December air. They slowed as they approached the stunned, fallen pair. At the helm of the herd, a tall, black stallion, magnificent and beautiful, rolled its eyes and gave an angry bray before coming closer. He sniffed once, almost hesitating, before thrusting his nose forward to inspect the son of Poseidon.

Unlike Blackjack's thoughts, which Percy could hear as clearly and coherently as human speech, the thoughts of the creature before him were fragmented, more wisps of sensations, unnamed emotions, and blurry pictures than actual words. But Percy got the gist of what the horse was trying to convey.

"I'm o-okay," Percy assured it with a breathless, wondering laugh, reaching a shaking out to gently stroke the majestic horse's nose.

No, he's not—sorry boss. He's cold and he needs to be warm.

"Blackjack—"

The horse threw its head back, then pressed it closer. The rest of the herd took this as an invitation and suddenly three dozen or so horses were all scrambling to get as close as possible. The first stallion settled down right next to Blackjack, reaching out to nuzzle against the top of Percy's head.

"W-what are they d-doing?"

Keeping you warm, boss, Blackjack said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Percy huffed, smiling despite himself. He let the stallion nuzzle him, the horse's body a convenient shield against the cold wind.

"T-thank you," Percy whispered, letting his head fall back onto Blackjack as the herd settled in around them, all humming worried, loving thoughts.

How did they know to find us? Blackjack wondered, gratefully nuzzling a little mare as it curled up beside him.

Percy looked up at the sky. "Someone's watching over me, I guess."

And he smiled.

A/n Brownie points to anyone who caught the maybe not so subtle reference there.

Up next: Drugged