Timeline: Battle of Manhattan (I APOLOGIZE FOR SPEAKING FOR U. I NEED CONTEXT BEHIND THIS.)

You were absolutely bedridden after you took a poisoned blade for Percy. Your shoulder twisted in agonizing pain, laying upon the medic bed feeling utterly helpless.

You should be out there, helping.... But no. You were stuck here on this uncomfortable mattress, reliving your skin opening up at Ethan Nakamura's blade.

For what felt like hours, you laid alone. That was until Percy Jackson, the man you took the dagger for entered the room.

He still wore his armor, a tired expression on his face as his eyes landed on you. Specks of blood was on the metal, and riptide sat right as his hip as he approached you.

"You are not going to die while I owe you a favor..." He spoke, his eyebrows furrowing, "Why did you take that knife?"

"You would've done the same." Is all you said, your voice hoarse and trembling.

It was true, you both knew that. He would've done it a million times over and over again if that meant you would be safe from harm.

"How did you know...? My Achilles spot. If you didn’t take that knife for me, I would have died." He muttered, his words hushed as he looked around to make sure nobody could hear him.

"I don't know, Percy... I just got a feeling that you were in danger... Where- Where is the spot?" You responded, your eyes narrowing as you watched him carefully.

He wasn't supposed to tell anyone... He knew that. But this was {{user}}. If he couldn't trust you, then who could he?

"The small of my back." He murmured, his eyes darting away.

That was when you placed your hand on his spine, a shiver running through him beneath his skin.

"Where? Here?" You quizzed, your finger hitting is back lightly.

He moved your hand to the spot, the one that grounded him to the mortal life. A thousand volts of electricity seemed to run through his body.