Shattered to Pieces |Percabeth Story |

12

Percy

Maybe running away was foolish but all I could think about at the time was Annabeth. She can't go to jail. That bastard deserved what he got and more. There may be enough evidence at the house to say it was self-defense but everyone at home loves Ben. They don't know what he was like with Annabeth.

She'll get the blame.

I just know it.

I couldn't let her come alone, even if it meant leaving my mom behind. I know back home my mother will be worried sick after finding my note. 'I love you. I'm sorry. I have to protect her.' That is all I wrote, all I could get my trembling fingers to write.

I snap out of my thoughts when I hear a tiny whimper and I look down to find Annabeth's face scrunched up in pain. I should've treated her back before I let her sleep but she was just so exhausted. I slowly move to rise from the bed, trying my best not to wake her. She needs to rest.

I leave the bedroom on my tiptoes and wander through the house until I find a kitchen. Once I'm there I search through cupboards in the hope to find what I want- a big bowl and some towels. I find both items in different places and then travel back up the creaky staircase.

I open each door in the long hallway and finally find a bathroom. I turn a handle at the sink and wait while the water heats up before I put the bowl under the stream of water and let it fill. I turn the handle once the bowl is filled and go back to the room where I left Annabeth.

I place the water and towels on the bedside table and search through my backpack for one of the knives we brought. I find one and make sure it's clean before I go over to Annabeth and rip open the back of her bloody t-shirt.

The ragged wounds over her back make me wince and I pull the shirt away from her cuts so I'll be able to clean them. She stirs in her sleep, her eyes fluttering a little, and I wait until she's settled again before I start.

I'm hoping because she's asleep she won't feel much pain. I dip a towel in the hot water and gently place it on her back. I know I need to clean away the blood and any dirt that has gathered in the open wounds. I feel her jump under my touch and groan a little but her eyes stay closed and I continue with my task.

When I've finished cleaning her back, the wounds look even worse. The angry, red lash marks stare at me against her pale skin and make me feel terrible. If only I had heard her sooner. I could've stopped her from feeling such pain. If only I'd gone to the cops before, when I first met her and I knew something was wrong. None of the events in the last twenty-four hours would've ever happened.

It's my entire fault.

I stare at Annabeth's face. She is ghostly white yet still strikingly beautiful. How could someone so innocent and so good come to feel all the pain she has felt in the last several years? Some people in our world are vile human beings, that don't deserve to be called humans at all but instead monsters.

Another whimper is what makes me look through my backpack for the first-aid kit that I decided to bring with me from my house. I dig through the contents and find a thick role of bandages. I read a book once where in it was a male that got whipped and had to lie on his stomach for days while his healer kept changing his bandages. They never mentioned any salve that could quicken the healing time.

I groan and bury my head in my hands. We'll have to stay here for days, possibly weeks, until Annabeth is all healed before we can carry on running. I can only hope that no one really noticed us on our journey here. If someone does recognize us when the cops start searching for us both then we are not safe here.

Still, we'll have to risk it.

We can't travel any further when Annabeth is in the condition that she's in.

I bandage her back, using as little fabric as possible so there will be enough left for the days ahead. Thankfully, there are several roles of bandages and little boxes filled with pills that could possibly help Annabeth feel less pain. All I can do now is look after her and try my best to help her feel comfortable.

I lay beside Annabeth while she continues to sleep for what feels like forever. I haven't slept a wink by the time her glassy eyes flutter open. She blinks to clear her vision and groans loudly. "Hey," I whisper. "You need to keep still. It will make you heal quicker. Let my find you something for the pain."

I search the packets of pills until I find one that I believe my mom once told me reduced pain. Annabeth opens her mouth and I place one pill on her tongue and hold the water to her mouth until she's swallowed it. I then give her another one, hoping two will be enough to stop the pain for at least a little while.

"What time is it?" she asks, her voice cracking as she speaks. I didn't bring a phone or a watch with me, so I glance out the window on the other side of the room and guess what time I think it is.

"I believe it's around... 2 o'clock in the morning, maybe a little later. You've been sleeping for a while. Did you sleep okay?" I question.

"I had a nightmare about Ben. I don't want to talk about it," she whispers. She pauses and looks me in the eye. "You should sleep. I can tell you haven't slept a wink."

"I'm fine," I reassure her. "I'm too worried to sleep. I cleaned and bandaged your back up."

"Thanks," she says, her voice shaky and vulnerable. "I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything. He deserved what he got," I reply.

"Percy," she cries. "I'm so scared. What if the cops find us? What if I have to go to prison for life? Or maybe I could get the death penalty."

"I won't let that happen. Trust me," I beg.

I take her hand and bring it to my lips.

I kiss her knuckles and rub the back of her hand against my cheek.

"I trust you more than anyone in the world," she says. "You are the only person I have actually ever trusted." I sigh and rest my forehead gently against hers, careful not to press on the cut above her eyebrow. I let my eyes close and breathe in slow breaths of air.

"I love you," I say, so quietly I don't know if she heard me or not. If she did, she doesn't say anything, and I can't find the courage to repeat my words. I open my eyes and her orbs meet mine. We lay there, silently staring into each other's eyes for seconds, minutes, hours.

I don't know how long...

And then her hand finds mine.

I feel one of her fingers on the back of my hand. She makes a pattern or picture on my skin and I try to make out what it is but I can't figure it out. She keeps repeating the gesture, her finger pressing against my skin until realization creeps into my eyes and she stops when she understands that I know what she's doing- or saying.

'U 2.'