Fun Times in the Infirmary

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Before this chapter starts, I'm curious to know which god you think Wren hails from. I've tried alluding to them but I'm trying not to be too obvious. Make your guesses in the comments!

Clarisse had picked me up and slung my arm over her shoulder until I regained feeling in my legs. Granted, that was after kicking me in the gut for embarrassing her in front of the other campers. 

I wanted to help carry the other wounded back to camp once I could walk on my own but Annabeth had pointed out that my hands were literally charred black. I still tried to argue even though she was rarely wrong.

"My hands don't even hurt! And I can help if someone's got a leg or a foot injury. I won't have to hold anything with my hands if they can sling an arm over my shoulder." I insisted, shifting from left to right during the conversation to relieve the discomfort in my soles.

"You're part of that demographic, Wren." Annabeth deadpanned, gesturing toward what was left of my favorite Vans. "And numbness in burns like the ones on your hands isn't a good thing."

 "It's not that bad!" I insisted. "Look, my shoes protected me." I held up my foot in front of me to show off the melted plastic and charred canvas that no longer covered my equally damaged sock.

You'd never guess, but trying to balance on one foot that had just received a very painful burn is a good example of why I'm not really considered to be the brightest tool in the toolbox. 

...

Wait that's not how that saying goes. 

"If you want to help, remember that the sooner you stop arguing the sooner we can get everyone to the infirmary. Including you." Annabeth sighed as Clarisse picked me up off the ground by the back of my camp shirt. I recognized that Annabeth was right like usual and finally stopped insisting to help. At least they agreed to let me walk to the Big House on my own. 

The adrenaline of the fight finally began to wear off during the walk. The real pain of my injuries was beginning to set in, but I didn't want to ask for help to walk after fighting so hard to prove that I was fine. I just had to do my best not to show the discomfort of walking on the skin of my soles as it started to blister. 

After a very long, awkward waddle trying to keep most of my weight on my heels, we finally made it down Half-Blood Hill and to the porch of the Big House. We entered and found our way to the infirmary. 

The Apollo kids had their hands full since the entire patrol was in need of care so they told those who didn't need immediate attention to sit by the door. Some younger kids bring buckets or bowls of cool water to put our burns in while we waited. One of them looked like they were going to be sick when he saw the blistering yellow skin on my hands. 

When one of the older kids had a second between patients, he told me to remove what was left of my shoes while I waited. I couldn't really do that since my hands were still burned to a crisp so Clarisse had to help.

Eventually, it was finally my turn to get looked at and Clarisse picked me up by the back of my shirt again to set me on my bare feet. The kid that told me I had first-degree burns on my toes and the balls of my feet applied aloe cream, wrapped my feet, and told me to take it easy. 

On the other hand, my other burns were a little more severe. While we were walking, I had been trying not to stare at the almost pinkish-red skin that was forming yellow blisters on the pads of my hands and fingertips. The sight had been making me sick since I'd first noticed and I wasn't very surprised to hear that I'd received second burns.

An older kid, Michel, had to treat them but since he was busy, he told me to raise my hands above my head while he was finishing up with a few other campers. I didn't see the reason behind sitting like I was riding the world's most boring invisible rollercoaster but he claimed I needed to "elevate the burns above my heart." 

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