Percabeth Oneshots

Flu

By an anonymous author. If you are the author and want to be credited please drop a message.

Annabeth woke up in pain.

This wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence. Being a demigod, Annabeth was no stranger to pain. She'd had broken bones, burns, cuts, stab wounds.... you name an injury, Annabeth Chase had probably experienced it.

But this was a different kind of hurt, a hurt Annabeth hadn't felt in a long time. Her head was pounding. Her mouth was drier than the Sahara desert. Her muscles ached, and even the soft sheets and py jamas she was wearing felt like knives on her skin. Despite being under a mountain of covers, she was shivering, bitterly cold.

There was no doubt about it. Annabeth was sick.

Annabeth never got sick.

She groaned, sitting up. That turned out to be a bad idea as a wave of nausea rolled over her, and she lowered herself back onto her pillows, falling the last half of the distance. She felt Percy shift beside her, woken from her movement.

"Hey," he said, the smile fading quickly from his face as he saw her own expression, which was probably nothing short of miserable. "What's wrong?"

"I feel like crap."

She surprised even herself with how horrible her voice sounded, raspy and dry. Percy frowned, reaching out and touching her forehead. He normally ran hot, but now his fingers felt cool against her skin, almost painfully so.

"You're burning up." he said, frown deepening.

"I'm freezing." Annabeth croaked. As if to prove her point, she shivered involuntarily.

"That's the fever talking." Percy said grimly, "Hold on."

He climbed out of bed. His warmth left with him, and Annabeth was left just that much colder, trembling under the covers. Percy couldn't have been gone more than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

When he returned he was holding a thermometer and a glass of water.

"Temperature first. The water might mess with the reading." He said, apologetic. She wanted to hate him for that because she was so thirsty she thought she might die, but she knew he was right.

Annabeth sat up slowly. Thankfully this time she just felt a little dizzy and not nauseous. The thermometer was cold and uncomfortable under her tongue, but Percy kept a steadying hand on her back, rubbing small circles into her shoulder with his thumb. With her oversensitive skin it almost hurt, but she leaned into the contact anyways.

When the thermometer beeped, Percy traded it for the glass of water. Annabeth nearly downed the entire glass in one gulp.

"A hundred and one." he announced, flipping the display so she could see. The number was lit up in red, signaling that she did, in fact, have a fever.

"I can't be sick. I have class." Annabeth said. Her voice was a little improved by the water, but she still sounded kind of terrible.

"Just email your professors and tell them you can't make it." Percy said, as if this were the easiest thing in the world.

For him it probably was. He did his best with school, but he also wasn't opposed to ditching class every once in a while and blaming it on a fabricated stomach bug, something Annabeth found absolutely abhorrent. She hadn't missed one class in her entire college career, and she wasn't about to start now.

"It's fine. I'll just take some Tylenol and I'll be good to go." Annabeth said. Percy gave her an exasperated look.

"Beth. You probably have the flu, you can't go to class like this."