Dealing with Drama

Curing his Coma

AN: ....Would you believe me if I said I originally wanted to name this chapter 'Dumb Dumber Dumbo'?

Time: Six Months After the Last Battle

Percy woke up feeling sore all over.

He did not know where he was.

He wondered if he was dead.

Was that Annabeth holding his hand? Her hand was so soft. He gave her a reassuring squeeze.

There was a soft gasp.

Whispered words. Percy couldn't make out what words they were saying.

There were multiple voices.

'Angels.... I'm in heaven.'

He tried to laugh, but couldn't.

He tried to discern stuff, but couldn't. His eyes were covered by something, his ears were ringing. His mouth tasted like parchment, a rough, dry tongue. His lips were equally dry and rough.

He felt a beard prickling his neck. His beard. His long matted hair stuck to his sweaty face.

Unbidden, an image came to his mind. Blonde hair shining even in the darkness, grey eyes dancing with mirth, soft lips parted in the middle of a snide remark. A Yankees cap askew on her head. Shorts showing off her smooth, toned legs.

His mind supplied a name to the ungodly apparition. Annabeth.

His angel.

He felt soft hands gently prying open his mouth, holding his undoubtedly prickly, bushy jaw gently as if he were some priceless artefact.

A fluid was poured into his mouth, thick with minute crumbs of... something. It tasted delicious, but had a bitter undertaste. It felt cool on his tongue, but left his mouth warm. It tasted like his mother's blue cookies, something which Annabeth baked him at Camp.

He rinsed his mouth thoroughly with the wondrous fluid, not fully comprehending what he was supposed to do. His tongue felt soft and wet, velvety as it was supposed to feel, and his lips had also regained some of their natural softness. The simple action created a dent in the smoky haze that clogged his mental faculties.

It took him some time to realise that it was normal, and that the drink was nothing but a nectar and ambrosia mixture. It probably had some herbal paste mixed in, too.

Percy relaxed, gulping it after some internal debate. Apparently, it was the right thing to do, seeing as there was no rebuke yet.

He relaxed into the soft bed, and tried to feel himself. Apparently, he was not dead, something which he bitterly regretted.

He was naked, was the first thing that he observed. There was only a soft, fluffy towel covering his privates, slightly ticklish. He felt the fine, smooth, soft fabric of a thin blanket that covered the lower half of his body. His legs were propped up on some soft pillows. There was a bandage wrapped tightly over his chest, with what seemed like gauze, pressing tightly against the right side of his chest. It felt... wet, but Percy could not tell if the moisture was from blood or medicine.