•Peace•

•Chapter Thirty-Six•

"Don't.. think too much about it." I wince. "Uh, what were you doing out so late at night?" I asked, changing the subject,

"This is my job, I fight criminals.. however I was planning on saving a damsel in distress.. now it seems I've become the damsel."

He started laughing, however he winced in pain as I'm sure the sting hit him.

I didn't really know what to do with his wounds. Normally one or two cubes of ambrosia would fix him right up, but he was mortal. And he seemed determined to get out of here the moment I allowed him to.

I was worried he wouldn't go see a doctor and let his wounds get infected, I mean it looks absolutely awful.

I crack a nervous grin. "Haha.."

"Don't be worried about me sweetheart, I'd rather see your smiles than frowns." His voice indicated a grin.

I roll my eyes. "Stop calling me sweetheart."

"Sure thing, doll."

Ew. "Don't call me that either."

"Alright, Angel."

"Call me Percy! Good grief.." I grumble.

"Finally. A name. But I think I'll stick with sweetheart." I bet he winked under that stupid helmet.

"Ugh." I threw my rag at him, not caring if it hit the part of his chest that was badly torn up.

In fact, I grinned and reveled in his wince. Take that.

"Alright, Percy. I'm on a tight schedule.. so I should go. Will you bandage these things or will you pass me a roll and let me do it myself?" He started to reach for the medical kit but i snatched it away.

"No, you're not leaving right now. Wait until morning. And yes, I'll do it myself." I waited for his conformational nod, which came reluctantly.

"So what are you." He asks as I start wrapping his arm.

I froze. "What do you mean?"

"Meta? Are you a meta? I saw you controlling water earlier."

Schist. "Uh.. yeah. I.. don't like to talk about it." What on mount Olympus is a meta???

"So what do you do with it?" He asks.

"What is this, a bbq? I don't appreciate being grilled." I wrapped the bandage a little tighter.

"I'm not grilling you. Merely asking what seasonings you use."

"I do.. normal things. Wash my dishes.. stupid things like that." I replied shortly.

"You don't go out and fight bad people? Don't do.. the bad itself?" He asks, although it seemed as if he already knew the answer.

"No. I don't do anything with it. I'm not.. a threat. If that's what you're worried about."

"I know. It's.. just protocol." He sighs.