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CHAPTER TEN. the ballad of a teenage tragedy
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NOW.
PANIC SLITHERED ITS way over Delia Cromwell's shoulders, engulfing her like an oversized blanket, and weighing her down like a heavy burden that the girl couldn't quite shake.
Percy was hurt. He had venomous poison coursing through his veins, tainting his bloodstream, and consuming his body whole, and Delia knew she only had herself to blame for all of it. Percy had thrown himself in-between her and the Chimera to protect her from a similar fate, but at great cost, the price being his own life because Percy wasn't just hurt. He was dying, and Delia didn't quite know how to stop the poison from consuming him, or prevent his death from happening in the first place. All she could do was hope and pray to the gods above that her idea would work. That Poseidon would take care of his son for once and save the boy's life.
However, it appeared her genius idea was a complete and utter failure at best. Delia was kneeling down in wrong of Percy while Annabeth and Grover splashed the boy with excess water from a mini fountain outside the Arch. She hoped it would heal his wounds like the lake did after the last Capture the Flag game. Or at least that was what Feyre had told her had happened since Delia was stuck in the infirmary the entire time as she would've been useless in the game itself. She had to just take her sister's word for it and pray to the gods that it would work. That Poseidon was watching over his son and would use his abilities for good.
After a long couple of minutes filled with the continuous splashing of water and judgemental looks from the public eye, Percy nodded his head, looking rather fed up. "I think, I think it's working," Percy assured them, a sheepish grin ghosting across his lips.
Delia sighed in relief and tried to help the boy back to his feet, but the second he put too much pressure on his legs, they instantly gave in underneath his weight and he crashed back down to the ground. Specks of water splashed up Delia's bare arms, cooling down the warmth of her skin, but it wasn't enough to ease her fears and anxiety. The poison was moving around his body and had been for too long now. Delia wasn't sure if Percy had much time left, and if he didn't, then they couldn't save him after all. The thought was enough to speed up Delia's breathing, her panicked breaths shallow and breathy, but she couldn't let the others see how afraid she was to lose Percy. Not when they were depending on her — the healer — to find a solution.
