My entire body ached dully, as though I was on some sort of painkiller and it was slowly receding from my system. I moaned quietly.
"P-Paris," Someone sounded close to choking.
Paris? That name rang a bell. I groaned again and tried to open my eyes. They felt like lead weights were holding them shut. After much effort, I finally managed to lift my eyelids. Everything was blurred. I blinked several times, trying to clear my vision. Darkness and a girl's silhouette leaning over me. Once everything came into focus, I saw her face. Her beautiful face. Big green eyes flecked with gold, that adorable nose that was spritzed with freckles, and full lips that curved down at the corners with a worried frown.
"Oh my gods," The girl was close to tears; her voice shook substantially.
"Paris?" I mumbled, my pronunciation of her name was slurred. It had to be her. "Come closer."
She leaned over and I noticed how bruised and battered she was. What did I look like? Not that I cared now, though. Paris was here. She'd come for me. She was here to save me. Okay, that sounded lame.
I painstakingly pushed myself up into a sitting position, and brushed my lips against her's, holding her cheek in one shaky, weak hand. She smiled and pulled back, and even in the dim light, it was easy to see she was blushing crimson.
"Awwwe!" Annabeth cooed and clapped her hands together. The sudden noise resonated around in my head, making me wince. I shivered, the cold was getting to me. Paris noticed my goosebump covered skin and gently, but promptly, helped me into my aviator's jacket.
"I tried to clean it off a little," She whispered after shooting a look at Annabeth who began to play pout.
"Oh, thanks," The pain was returning full throttle.
"More nectar?"
"Paris," I cleared my throat, not that there was anything to get rid of, my voice was barely there. "Can you read my mind, or something?"
She laughed, but the sound was anything except carefree. "Here," She handed me the bottle of the gods' drink, only allowing me two, small sips. When I started to go for another gulp, Paris pulled the nectar out of my hand.
"I did not come all this way and almost die twice for you to burst into flames and become another smear on the ground," She actually cracked a real smile. I would've hugged her just to hold her close, but I didn't trust myself to stay upright. Being so unsteady made me uncomfortable. It was odd feeling to be so helpless.
"Actually, there's just puddles of stuff, not smears," I contradicted her. She imitated me, making me grin even though it hurt.
"You ready to get out of here yet?" Paris asked, offering me her hand. A worried crease was returning to her forehead, she knew she was moving me too quickly, not that I was complaining, or anything. The sooner I got out of there, the better.
"Yeah. I think I've had enough hell to last a lifetime," I joked feebly. She smiled, but it disappeared as soon as I got to my feet. I grunted and nearly fell over. "Gods, why does it hurt so bad?"
"Are you mimicking me?" Paris asked, gripping me firmly around the waist so I didn't collapse.
"Huh?" I could barely see through the miniscule black dots that were popping up in my vision.
"Uh, Paris, you might want to sit him down." I felt like I was going to throw up.
"Head between your knees," Paris commanded, gently pushing my throbbing head down.
