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Percy looked up just in time to see that Luke had appeared right outside the elevator doors. He couldn’t even react as Backbiter slid between the closing doors and stabbed him.
A fiery pain unlike anything Percy had experienced before erupted in his stomach. His limbs went numb as he dropped the fleece and fell back against the far door. The movement jarred his entire body, sending a new wave of pain over him as his legs gave out and he slid to the floor.
Percy lifted a shaking hand to the wound. The sight of blood on his fingers confirmed that this was real. Luke had really stabbed him, and Percy was really bleeding out in the elevator. Percy dropped his hand and leaned his head back against the wall, trying to get his foggy brain to focus.
The Fleece.
He had the Fleece.
Percy opened back up eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed and looked over to where the Fleece was lying. It was by the doors and out of reach from where he currently sat. Percy reached out his hand and sat up slightly, trying to get to it. The small movement caused his wound to flare again, and Percy was forced to lean back against the wall, breathing heavily. He tried to move his foot to see if he could nudge the Fleece in his direction, but this had a similar result.
Percy put a hand over his wound, feeling the blood seeping out. He knew he was in trouble. He was losing a lot of blood, not to mention whatever internal damage the sword had done. He could feel his strength waning and knew he had to act quickly. Percy took a few more steadying breaths before locking his gaze on the Golden Fleece. He just had to get to it, and then it could heal him.
Percy used his hands to push himself towards the Fleece. Dark spots danced across his vision. He moved again, his entire body shaking with the effort. His vision was blurring, and Percy knew he was about to pass out. Just a couple of more scootches, and he’d be there. Percy tried to move again, but his arms gave out on him, and he tipped sideways, crashing against the floor.
He reached out his hand, hoping to feel the texture of the fleece, but his hand met only metal as he fell unconscious.
*****
Annabeth paced the deck of the Andromeda, glancing between the doors and the black-winged horse who had saved them. Percy had gotten the fleece, she was sure of it, so where was he?
“I’m going after him,” Annabeth said, stopping her pacing and looking at Clarisse. To her surprise, Clarisse nodded and moved to follow her.
“Oh, don’t give me that look, it’s not because I care what happens to Jackson. Camp needs that fleece, and I hate standing around and doing nothing,” Clarisse said with a shrug.
Not needing any more incentive, Annabeth resumed walking towards the doors. She didn’t know where Percy might be. If he’d gotten the fleece when the alarms went off, he should’ve made it to the deck not long after them. Maybe he’d found someplace to hide to avoid monsters and Luke’s people. Or maybe he’d gotten captured. Or maybe…
Annabeth shook her head to end her train of thought. It wouldn’t do Percy any good to linger on worst-case scenarios. Annabeth would follow the path he would’ve taken from Luke’s suite, in reverse. Hopefully, she’d be able to find where Percy had gotten to.
They walked down the hallway to the service elevator, red lights illuminating their path. Annabeth felt vulnerable without her knife and invisibility cap. As if sensing her thoughts, Clarisse held out one of her spears to Annabeth. Annabeth wasn’t too skilled with a spear, but it was better than nothing, so she took it with a grateful smile. She marveled at how much Clarisse seemed to have grown on her quest. Clarisse might not admit it, but she was getting better at operating as a team.
“I was furious when Percy gave Luke the fleece to heal you,” Clarisse admitted quietly, her gaze fixed ahead. “I knew you were dying…but camp is in danger too and I-”
“It’s okay,” Annabeth interrupted her. “I get it. I might’ve made the same choice, too. Or at least I might’ve before meeting Percy. But Percy…” Annabeth hesitated, unsure of how much of his fatal flaw she wanted to reveal to Clarisse. “For better or for worse, Percy will always put those he cares about first. He’s shown me that our way of sacrificing anything for the sake of the quest isn’t always right. I’d forgotten that when it came to the entrance test to the Sea of Monsters. I didn’t think about the cost for you when it came to sacrificing your soldiers, and look what that got us.”
“I should’ve just been honest with you, or with myself, really. I thought I could handle it, the way a good daughter of Ares should, but watching them realize I had lied to them…” Clarisse trailed off. Annabeth knew what she wasn't saying. She'd seen the expression on Clarisse's face as she'd turned them towards Charybdis.
“Percy wasn’t raised the way we were. He cares more about making his mother proud than his godly father. He doesn’t see anyone’s life as disposable. It doesn’t always work out perfectly for him, but I can’t help but admire the way he keeps trying,” Annabeth admitted. Although it was the same thing that made her nervous about the Great Prophecy, she did appreciate Percy’s loyalty to the people in his life.
Clarisse snorted softly, but it didn’t have the heat behind it that it would’ve had a few days ago. They reached the service elevator, and Annabeth noted that it was sitting on this floor. Had Percy already made it down to this floor and hidden somewhere, or had he not gotten to the elevator at all? A feeling of dread was starting to spread across her as Annabeth pressed the up button with shaking hands. The elevator doors slid open immediately, and Annabeth gasped in horror at the scene in front of her.
Percy lay in a heap on the far side of the elevator, an alarming amount of blood spreading out beneath him. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was shallow. One of his arms was stretched out towards where the Golden Fleece lay, just out of his reach.
Annabeth dropped the spear Clarisse had given her and ran over to Percy, dropping to her knees by his side. She gently turned him onto his back and nearly sobbed when she saw the stab wound on his stomach.
“Percy? Percy!” Annabeth said, cradling his pale face in her hands and trying to get any reaction out of him. He was always pale, but now his skin looked almost translucent. He didn’t respond as she called his name.
“Here,” Clarisse tossed her the Fleece and Annabeth spread it over his torso. Clarisse stood up and took a defensive position in the doorway of the elevator. Annabeth saw the worry on her face as she turned away.
Annabeth focused back on Percy, noticing that his breathing deepened and his face got a bit of its color back. “It’s working,” Annabeth said, more to herself than to Clarisse. She tried not to think about what might’ve happened if Percy hadn’t gotten the Fleece. She took a deep breath, the first full breath she'd been able to take since finding Percy bleeding out on the floor. He would be okay. She'd felt the Fleece's power when it had healed her and she knew what it could do.
“Let’s hope it works quickly,” Clarisse said, nerves sharpening her tone. Annabeth tore her gaze away from Percy’s face to look out at the corridor beyond Clarisse. If they were discovered there, they would be trapped; they could move to a different floor, but their move would be telegraphed, and they could easily be ambushed.
Percy let out a soft groan, and Annabeth’s gaze snapped back to him. “Percy?” She said quietly, brushing the curls off his sweaty forehead. “Percy, open up your eyes,” she encouraged. His face scrunched, but his eyes remained firmly shut. Her heart was beating loudly as she tapped his cheek lightly before cupping it. "You're okay, I'm here, you're okay."
“Annabeth?” he breathed.
“Yes, Seaweed Brain, it’s me, now open up your eyes,” She encouraged. She didn’t dare move the Fleece to check on his wound, so she needed him to wake up fully so she could gauge how he was doing. To her relief, his brilliant blue eyes finally blinked open. They were hazy with pain and confusion, but they locked on her with a comforting recognition. Annabeth moved the hand that was on his face to his shoulder and gave him a few seconds to get his bearings. She watched as he glanced around the elevator, noting Clarisse, the fleece, and the blood. With a grimace, he moved to sit up, but Annabeth used the hand on his shoulder to keep him flat on his back. It was surprisingly easy to keep him down, telling Annabeth that he was still weak. “How do you feel?” Annabeth asked, wishing she had the children of Apollo's gift for sensing injuries.
“Fine,” Percy said, too quickly for Annabeth to believe it. Because he was awake and talking and because they needed to move, she risked moving the fleece aside slightly so she could look at his wound. She pushed up his shirt and was relieved to find just a scar remaining beneath the blood. So much blood. It was coating his stomach, his shirt, her pants, her hands. Annabeth put Fleece back over him with shaking hands. The Fleece had done its job of healing him, but Annabeth had no idea if it merely healed the wound or if it could heal him from the blood loss as well.
This time, when Percy tried to sit up, Annabeth let him, making sure the fleece stayed over his torso as he moved. Percy moved gingerly, telling Annabeth that even though the wound was closed, it still hurt.
“We need to get out of here,” Clarisse said. Her gaze fell on Percy, and she gave him a brief nod. “Glad you’re not dead, Jackson.”
“Uh, thanks,” Percy said. He grit his teeth together and started to stand up. Annabeth and Clarisse both moved to help him, and to their surprise, he let them. Clarisse stepped away as soon as Percy was on his feet, stepping in front of them, ready to fight anything that might stand in their way. Annabeth wrapped her arms around Percy, half to keep the Golden Fleece in place and half to keep him steady. Percy settled his arm over her shoulders, his weight heavy but oddly comforting. Annabeth wasn’t sure if she’d ever be used to how much taller than her he was now.
They made their way slowly down the hallway. Percy’s steps were getting steadier as they went on. By the time they’d reached the deck, he was barely leaning any of his weight on Annabeth.
“Blackjack?” Percy said as they walked out of the doors and he saw the Pegasus.
“Yeah, he’s Luke’s, although he saved us,” Annabeth said. Percy tried to move away from her and towards the horse, but Annabeth kept her arms wrapped firmly around his side, holding him in place. She wasn’t sure what to think about the Pegasus, and she wasn't quite ready to let go of Percy.
“He’s not Luke’s, he’s not anyone’s,” Percy said with an edge to his tone. He slid his gaze to her, and his intensity softened. “It’s okay, he’s a friend.” Annabeth reluctantly released Percy, and he wrapped a hand around his stomach to hold the fleece. He stepped towards Blackjack with a smile. “Hey, Blackjack, can you bring Clarisse to camp?”
Clarisse stepped in front of Percy with a surprised expression on her face. They exchanged a few words before Clarisse jumped onto Blackjack, and Percy handed the Golden Fleece up to her. Annabeth wanted to object. She knew Percy wasn’t fully healed, but she also knew that her objections wouldn’t change his mind. Percy might go to the ends of the earth to protect those he loved, but those same rules did not apply to his own safety. Besides, Annabeth knew that they needed to get the Fleece to camp ASAP. Percy might need a bit more healing, but he was moving a lot better than he had when he’d first stood up in the elevator. He was alive and out of danger, and she couldn't let her own feelings about seeing him hurt cause her to make rash decisions.
Annabeth moved to Percy’s side as Blackjack took off with Clarisse. “You okay?” She asked him. He tore his gaze away from the sky and looked at her.
“Yeah, Wise Girl, I am, thanks to you.”
“I was just returning the favor,” Annabeth said, marveling at how both of them had nearly died and had been saved by the Golden Fleece. Percy gave her a smile that looked more like a grimace.
“Let’s just hope Clarisse can get the Fleece to camp in time. I don’t regret giving it to Luke to save you, but if camp-”
“Hey,” Annabeth interrupted him, stepping closer to put her hand on his arm. “You did what you had to, and we got it back. Clarisse will get it there.” There was no point in rehashing his decision in Polyphemus’ cave. What’s done was done.
“Right, Grover and Tyson are getting us a ride, let’s get off this ship,” Percy said.
“You might want to find a shirt to change into,” Annabeth said, noting how Percy’s zip-up and t-shirt were covered in blood. The mist might hide it from the mortals, but it was best not to push their luck.
“Right,” Percy looked around the deck, finding some abandoned bags near the pool. He dug through one until he’d found a t-shirt in his size. He took off his jacket, and Annabeth tried not to wince at how bloody it was. Percy yanked his t-shirt off next, and Annabeth was surprised by the muscles that were hidden underneath it. She flushed and focused on his wound, glad to see that the scar had shrunk, although his torso was still smeared with blood. She looked away before her eyes could wander again, looking towards the shore instead. Luckily, Percy hadn’t seemed to notice her reaction. “Ready?” Percy said after a moment, and Annabeth turned back to see him fully dressed and smoothing his hair down. He gave her an odd look, possibly noting the odd expression on her face.
“Yeah,” Annabeth said, using her considerable self-control to force her thoughts back towards their quest. “Let’s go save camp.”