8. PJO/HoO: Percabeth - Anesthesia
Dedication: DISNEY+
Yeah, I know, this wasn't requested. Like I said, I have started on your requests already! I just needed to do this one in honor of the PJO TV show!!!
Based off the hilarious video above.
Percy comes out of a painful surgery to his worried wife with enough anesthesia to knock out a horse. What he reveals means more to her than she'd thought it would.
Some Percabeth angst and then extremely wholesome fluff.
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Annabeth Jackson had seen many terrifying things in her life. After fighting in two wars before she was even a legal adult, falling into the literal pit of hell, and running from horrific Greek monsters her whole life, one would think that nothing could faze her. And she would have agreed, so long as her husband, Percy, was with her.
But when she'd gotten the call that Percy had gotten into a nasty car accident and was currently in the O.R ... Gods, nothing - nothing - compared to the fear she felt then.
So here she was, pacing her way around the waiting room, praying to every god she knew for help. Because losing Percy ... Her breath caught in her throat. Oh gods, what if she lost him? After everything they'd been through? Because of a car accident?
Of course, she still didn't know for sure if it actually was a car accident that did it. It could've been at least partly the fault of a monster, protected from the eyes of mortals by the Mist.
Tears prickled in Annabeth's eyes. She didn't know what she'd do if she lost him. They'd promised to stay together, but neither had accounted for something like this happening at this point in their lives. Now, she realized, that had been a very foolish mistake.
Time slowly ticked by, so slowly that it felt like years had passed.
And then a doctor emerged. "Mrs Jackson?"
She bolted immediately toward him, her breathing ragged. "How is he?"
"Very lucky," said the doctor in a bewildered voice, and some of the tension left Annabeth's body. "Considering the state of both your husband and the car, he is in miraculous condition. We expect him to make a full recovery."
That's my Percy.
Annabeth released a breath of relief, a calmness settling over her. She didn't know if it was the work of Percy's powers, strength, and durability that had saved him or simply the help of the gods, but she sent out silent prayers of thanks nonetheless.
"I want to see him." She gave the doctor a look that meant she wouldn't take no for an answer.
The doctor had an uneasy expression on his face. "Of course you can. But I will warn you, he is on anesthesia."
Annabeth only nodded, and the doctor led her to a hospital room down the hall.
She'd seen Percy in all kinds of stages of duress - again, courtesy of two wars and a trip to the pit of hell - so really, this should have been nothing to her.
But gods of Olympus, was that wrong.
His usually-tan skin was ghostly pale, and his face resembled Rocky Balboa's after a final fight - dark, horrible bruises and swelling so severe she doubted it was comfortable. Various bandages peppered the wounds, one of which wrapped around his head and another peaking behind the right shoulder of his hospital gown. His left arm was bound tightly in a sling.
Annabeth nearly forgot how to breathe at the sight of her Seaweed Brain in so much pain. The last time she'd seen him look this bad ...
Nausea spread through her as a vision of him at age sixteen, covered in sweat and dust, cradled in her arms as dozens of painful curses - curses he took for her - slowly killed him ...
Annabeth shook her head. That had been a long time ago, and Percy was alive. He wouldn't leave her - never again. My something permanent.
Squaring her shoulders, Annabeth went to stand by Percy's bed, and gently took his hand. She bit her lip as she felt how cold they were, even with one finger clipped to one of the monitors at his bedside. The steady beeps of the E.K.G settled and reassured her. We're together, they said; there's nothing to be afraid of.
"Let us know if you need anything," said the doctor, startling her, as she'd forgotten he was still here, before he left with a quiet click of the door.
Annabeth gently ran her thumb over Percy's palm in hopes of warming it. She stared down at it, her caresses turning more exploring, as she felt the familiar feeling of his hand in hers, his fingers (one of which wrapped in a familiar band). They were somewhat calloused from years of handling Riptide, but otherwise remained nimble and beautiful, like a musician's hands would be. How many times had she grabbed this very hand for comfort and reassurance - or just because she could?
Suddenly, Percy's fingers began to gently curl over hers. Annabeth's breath caught in her throat as she looked up to see him staring at her with those beautiful sea green eyes.
"Percy," she breathed, her knees close to buckling at the relief she felt.
He blinked at her once, slowly, completely poker-faced. Which made sense, she supposed, considering how beaten said face was. He uttered a quiet sound that sounded a bit like, "Woah."
"Try not to move too much," she ordered, quietly but sternly. "Don't hurt yourself more."
Percy only continued to stare at her, his eyes wide. "Did the doctors send you?" he rasped.
It was Annabeth's turn to blink as panic spread through her. Did he not remember her? Had his memories been taken from him for good this time? It was a fear that she'd known all too well as a teenager, when he'd disappeared for so many months. He'd remembered her (and only her), but what if they weren't as lucky this time?
Annabeth shook herself of the silly thoughts. She was a daughter of Athena - she, above anyone else, knew that panic before reason would only do more harm than good. The doctor had told her Percy was under strong anesthesia right now - and judging by the dazed gleam in his eyes, that was exactly what this was.
"I sent myself in," she replied evenly, figuring it was best to act normal until the drugs pulled him back into unconsciousness.
Percy continued to stare at her, his eyes traveling slowly up and down. "Man, you are eye candy."
Whatever Annabeth had expected him to say, that surely was not it. She felt heat in her cheeks, trying to scavenge for words, but settled with a quiet, "Thank you."
But Percy didn't seem to notice the words, rather continuing to stare at her with those wide, ocean eyes. "Wow," he whispered with so much reverence that her heart skipped a beat, "you must be the prettiest woman I've ever seen." Cue her rapidly increasing heart rate as he sucked in a shuddering breath. "Are you a model?"
A quiet laugh burst from her as a balloon seemed to swell in her chest. Percy had told her such things before, and he certainly had never made her feel anything but beautiful, but he'd never gone this far (really, except for some idiot sweet-talker trying to pick up a girl from a night club, who would?). And even while heavily drugged and beaten, he saw her like that ...
"No," she said, biting her lip. Percy unashamedly watched as she did so. "I'm going to be right here with you."
"Wow," he said again. "Who ... Who are you? What's your name?"
Annabeth had to press her lips together to rein in her laugh. "My name is Annabeth," she said clearly, slowly, "I'm your wife."
Percy's eyes seemed to grow as big as dinner plates. His mouth dropped open, wide enough that she knew it must hurt, but he didn't seem to acknowledge that. "You're my wife?" he asked, his rough voice gaining a bit of squeak.
She nodded and smiled at him.
"Holy shit."
Annabeth couldn't keep the laugh from escaping her this time. Still, Percy watched her with that awestruck expression. "My wife. My wife ..." he trailed off a moment, looking her over again like she was the last piece of pizza. "My wife has princess curls."
With the way she was standing over him, he was able to reach up to wind his finger around one of those curls. The awed expression didn't leave his face as he played with it for a few moments, gazing at her with so much intensity that her heartbeat turned thunderous. "How long?" he asked.
"A few years," she whispered as he continued to play with her hair, "but we've been a team for a long, long time."
"Dang," Percy breathed, and she felt the gentle warmth of his breath on her face. His brow crinkled slightly as a thought seemed to occur to him. "Do we have children together?"
The heat in Annabeth's face intensified. "No. Not yet." They'd only discussed the topic of children a few times - briefly. Nothing too big, and they certainly hadn't had the serious talk about it, but they both knew that ... someday, someday they'd want a family of their own. And she would be lying if she said she hadn't ever imagined a little boy or girl with her hair and Percy's eyes, his smile.
"Oh," he said, his hand still in her hair. "Have we kissed yet?" He asked the question with so much childish excitement that she couldn't help the little laugh from escaping her.
Just to see what he would do, she leaned down and planted a tiny, gentle peck on his lips.
When she pulled back, Percy's face was beet-red. "Gods, I hit the jackpot."
Annabeth knew it was silly. Beauty, she knew, shouldn't mean so much, and could only get a person so far. But knowing that she had this effect on Percy, even while he was under enough drugs to knock out the Minotaur ... It meant more to her than she ever thought it would.
Percy's eyes were starting to droop, and she could read the growing exhaustion in every line of his body. "You should sleep, Percy," she whispered to him.
"Oh, it's hard, baby, it's hard," he mumbled, and she knew for sure that he was out of it at that. They never called each other 'baby.' It really never appealed to either of them.
Gently - so, so gently, lest she hurt him - Annabeth kissed his forehead. "Sleep, Percy," she repeated, "I'll be right here."
Percy closed his eyes.
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