#disfiguration

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Summary: Grover helps a half blood get into camp. However, now he must escape the monster chasing that had been chasing her.

Warnings: End of the Sea of Monsters spoilers (brief mention) and violence.

    Talking walks was one of Grover's favorite past times. Often he would end up down by Talia's pine tree. Even if she wasn't in it, the tree was still comforting.

AP: "I can't stand seeing you like this."

Disfiguration

Follow-up: Days 25 to 29 (no 27)

TW: aftermath domestic abuse, blood, gore, pain, helplessness, despair and probably swearing.

They shuffled through the hallways towards Mrs. Dawson, the school nurse. Andy was more than thankful, that the halls were abandoned, for every good pupil was already in class. But he was ashamed, that he was forced to lean a big part of his own body weight onto Alison. He was surprised, he could actually keep his feet under him at all. She was a head smaller, but Alison hardly seemed to struggle under the additional obstacle of a semi-conscious guy on her thin shoulders.

"What happened? You got into a fight or something?" He had problems concentrating on her words, not even to mention thinking of a reasonable answer. His shoulders shrugged defeated and he was saved by the appearance of Mrs. Dawson just exiting her station.

She was carrying a plate with little flasks and a stage of papers, that she almost dropped, when she took sight of them. Her eyes went wide while the things on the plate shifted loudly. Her vision had jumped from his pale face to the hand on his chest covered in light red. Her facial expression turned professional in an instant again. She made a step back into the open door and gestured them with a nod to follow her. "Come."

More noise from the plate when it was forcefully parked on a desk nearby. She took the folded blanket from the gurney by the wall and helped Alison to sit the patient down on the edge.

Andy was beyond exhausted and almost folded the moment his weight was shifted. "Easy, easy." Strong hands of that hearty elderly women lay him down. His vision went black of a second.

"You look like a dead man walking, darlin'. What's your name? And what happened?" Andy was too weak and confused to answer.

"This is Andy. I'm Alison. He fai... passed out in the hallway, he's burning up and I think he's kind of bleeding" Alison helped out pointing to his chest a bit lost.

Mrs. Dawson put the back of her hand against his forehead. It felt heavenly cool. "Dear Lord!" Was her only reaction. "Gimme that thermometer from over there, love." Her voice was soft, some shuffling in the background. Andys eyes were still closed and the nurse pulled them back gently one by one using her pen light.

Something in his ear. "103.2 You're melting honey." Her tone was matter of factly, but she could hardly hide her concern.

"Alison, would you please step outside for a moment, love." It wasn't a question the dedicated nurse presented to the girl, while her fingertips brushed over Andys right hand, which was still pressed to his chest. By all the pain he felt, he was surly going to fall apart, when he tried to remove it.

He didn't register the girl's silent answer and the door closing. Mrs. Dawson was leaning over his slack form on the gurney, trying to talk to him.

"Could you please open your eyes for me, Andy." Her tone was soothing and he tried to obay, while a cool gentle hand touched his cheek. It was so hard, his lids so heavy all of a sudden. His vision was only blurry. "That's it. I'm going to remove your hand now and then I have to take a lock under your shirt. A'right love." A slight nod was all he could master. "That's my boy."

Maybe he blacked out, maybe he just skipped time. After a sharp biting pain, that seemed to last a lifetime and an almost painful hiss somewhere above him matching his own outcry, it felt like she put an ice cube onto his flaming skin. It was only her stethoscope being moved.

"Your heart is running a million miles an hour and that wound is badly infected, honey. What happened? Who did this to you?"

If he hadn't been so dizzy, he might have heard her voice shaking. She fumbled with a blood pressure cuff and the stethoscope in the crook of his arm.

Speaking felt like something beyond his capability. 'How did it get this bad this fast? Just a few minutes ago he was still standing.'

Now that change in motion seemed like a wild imaginary dream to him.

"Got mm...mugged." It was the best he could do and the only thing that came to his cottonball-filled head, which threatened to implode any second. A weak moan left his mouth without him noticing it would. She cleared her throat, wanted to object. Wasn't convinced. But instead of arguing which he wasn't in any shape just now, she only asked. "When?" Her face was swimming before his eyes, but her question was clear. "Thur....r.da..." One of her hands held one of his to ground and encourage him to stay with her. She needed to stay professional.

"Oh Lord, that's almost a whole week, without stitches. No wonder it's oozing and got infected."

Andys head was spinning even more so. 'It was Monday, wasn't it. How did it become... a whole week so quickly?'

"You still with me, honey?" 'When had he closed his eyes again?' Another painful sound escaped his lips. He was floating and burning and freezing. And most of all he was tired.

Unfortunately Mrs. Dawsons' workstation wasn't as equipped as she liked it to be and she wasn't able to give the proper care he needed, because he surely needed to be rushed into the ER asap and then be hospitalised. His condition was severe, maybe even life threatening. He was burning up. The infection surely had entered his bloodstream. His heart was jumping to keep up, while his blood pressure was down the drain.

"Honey? I'm calling an ambulance. This needs to be cleaned properly and you need a whole lot of antibiotics. Besides, you're severely dehydrated. When's the last time, you kept something down, that went into your mouth?" Mrs. Dawson had abandoned the idea to give him something to drink. In his condition it would come up anyway and the additional strain of barfing wasn't something his weak body could handle just now.

An almost unnoticeable shrug of his thin shoulders and a kind of apologising look were his answer. It must have been a while, his dry skin and lips, his eyes and the fact, that he had lost weight recently told her.

"I'll prepare an IV and give you some of the good stuff to ease your pain a bit, while we wait, okay?" 'How didn't anyone noticed a half dead kid walking the halls?' Maybe it was a good thing, he wasn't send home. Surely his condition wasn't notices there either.

She leaned close to his ear and whispered soothingly, while her hand brushed over his feverish forehead. "I'm actually not supposed to do that, but I really can't stand seeing you like that, honey." She blinked at him encouraging.

"Now, you want to tell me what cruel individual scared you this way, honey?"

xxx

I wanted to draw something more realistic. It went bad. I'm cursed to paint only cartoon characters. So here's my drunken disfigured Vietnamese girl.