Why Me?(Third book of Call me Omega)

Chapter 39

Percy's POV

It hurt.

The whole situation did.

I flinched as Victor cleaned the bleeding cut on my face with a cotton swab. He was very silent. Chaos seemed mad also.

I really didn't mind though.

"... What did I do wrong?"
Victor paused. He resumed, but didn't answer my question. I sighed.

"I still need to fight tommorow...." I mused.

He stopped completely, and the cotton swab fell to the ground.

"You as*hole."

"Victor-"

"Shut up."

Gritting his teeth, he once again got another cotton swab and started cleaning the cuts again.
"Take off your shirt."
I carefully pulled off the crumpled bloodstained button up shirt. I looked down at the wound to see it gaping, red and open. He cleaned the wound, which stung like crazy. He cut out the old stiches and gave me stiches again, and did the same to my shoulder wounds and finished tending to my wounds.
"You won't have anything for a month." He said, closing the box. "He told you to rest."
"Chaos?"
"... Yes. I never saw him so angry before." He held both of my hands tight. "Percy. Please don't do anything for now. Don't look at the news. Chaos told me that he would keep the reporters away-"
"I know." I slipped my hands out of his. "I know."
He sighed and looked down. "Can you lift your leg?"
I lifted it and Victor felt my ankle to send a shot of red hot pain up my leg.
"Ow."
"It's not broken, but I think it's fractured. You'll have to limp around for a week or so." He looked at me. "Nowhere else?"
"Just bruises."
He stared skeptically at me. He sighed.

"It was a horrible day."

I didn't say anything.

"You did well. I would of been screaming my head off if I were you." he sighed. "That crazy man was a little off his rocker."
I looked down.
"Can I sleep?"
He stood up hastily. "Yeah. Rest."
He went out of the room, and I flopped down on the bed.

I still couldn't understand.

My feelings were mixed. I didn't know how to feel- sorry for myself or for the father. I knew what it felt to lose a son.

Murderer.

I never wanted to feel those sorrowfuly angry feelings again. His mangled body kept appearing in my head. How would the man feel like? There weren't even ashes left of his son.

I had played with him.

The same, burning in my chest appeared, and a invisible rock pressed on myself hard.

I understood a little.

I closed my eyes, cursing the tears that found it's way out.

Annabeth.

If she hadn't cut off my wings.

If the hellhounds didn't kill Theo.