Feigning immobility from the pain, I peeked back and watched as the cocky bastard raised the spear above me with one hand. Intending to stab me through the heart, no doubt.
As the spear came down, I bucked and slammed my tail hard into Calder’s hand, knocking the spear clean out of his hold. It tumbled a distance away, and while Calder clenched his empty hand in shock I lunged for him, fists closed. My hit landed squared in his solar plexus.
Calder doubled over, spluttering. Not wasting a second, I smashed my other fist into his head, knocking him out.
I shouldn’t have given him the chance to walk away in the first place, and if he had been anyone else, I probably wouldn’t have. It was unfortunate that I couldn’t slit his gut open and revel in his dying screams, as I had other things to worry about.
Keeping an eye on Calder, I swam over to Atalanta. She was curled up like she had done the other day, hands grasping her head, which was between her knees. I didn’t think she was conscious. Her breathing was too even, too slow. Gently, I ran my fingers through her hair, hoping to rouse her. After a few moments, she didn’t wake up, which confirmed my theory.
Calder was still unconscious, but I doubted it would be for long. Swiftly, yet as delicately as possible, I scooped up Atalanta into my arms and began my swim back to shore, snatching up Calder’s spear along the way.
I could be petty.
With my tail, it only took a minute to reach the shore. Without a thought, I shifted back to my two-legged form and hugged Atalanta closer to me. I worried when the gravity of the surface hit, it would be difficult to carry both Atalanta and the spear, but she was so light I could easily hold her limp form with one arm.
I made a mental note to start feeding her more.
Trudging through the wet sand, I debated over trying to put all of our clothes back on, but decided it would be more of a hindrance with my wounded state. My blood was getting all over her. Blood, scales, and wet sand were a combination that would easily ruin those clothes.
I did, however, grab my phone from the box after an awkward fumble between Atalanta and the spear before deciding to just shove the spear into the sand. I didn’t leave it though, despite knowing it would be easier than now holding it, Atalanta, and the phone. I opted to stick the phone between my teeth and began making my way up a different path than we came.
I made my way through the forest as fast as I could, not wanting to spend all night out here, possibly ringing the dinner bell for all of the hungry animals that weren’t hibernating with the blood I was dripping everywhere.
I was grateful when the small two-story apartment complex came into view.
Why did you choose the second floor, you dick? I grumbled internally as I stomped up the stairs, groaning when I reached the top. I tried to remind myself of the circumstances, and that I wasn’t that out of shape.
If the others saw me this undignified, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.
Reaching the door of 2A, I propped the spear up before ringing the doorbell. After waiting a couple of minutes, I rang the bell again. I knew it was working because I could see the lights flickering through the small kitchen window next to the door.
Figuring he was either not home or asleep, I grasped the handle and attempted to open the door. Of course, it was locked. No one locked their doors in Argos! Grumbling more and rolling my eyes, I twisted the knob and broke the lock. I would buy him a new one later.
I had never seen the inside of his apartment before, but it was clean and well furnished. The kitchen to the right of the entry had all new appliances, and the carpet looked almost brand new, different from the apartments I had seen in the past which often were run down. There were advantages to owning the building, I supposed.
After placing the spear onto the small table in his living room, I carried Atalanta down the short hallway into what I assumed to be the bedroom. Kicking the ajar door open, I flicked on the light.
Theseus was sprawled across his mattress, legs hanging off the side, still fully dressed as if he had just come in and passed out.
He didn’t even flinch when the bright overhead light turned on. Knowing I was more hostile than needed, I stormed over to the lump and kicked the mattress next to his head.
With a yelp, Theseus was awake and tumbling off the bed. I gave him at least some credit when he bounced back rather quickly, taking a defensive position before realized who had woken him.
“Jesus fucking Christ, PERCY! What the—wait, what happened?” He rushed forward at seeing the blood-covered Atalanta in my arms.
Reluctantly, I released her to him to look over. As soon as my hands were free, I signed. "She isn’t injured. All of the blood is mine.”
“That doesn’t tell me what happened.” He grumbled as he placed Atalanta gently on his bed and dragged over what looked to be a medical bag.
He pulled out a flashlight and opened her lids to check her pupils. “Well, she’s responsive. But she’s out cold.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” I grumbled before tapping on his shoulder and signing, “she passed out, but I think she’s just asleep now.”
“Why did she pass out? Did she hit her head? Did she see something? What happened?”
I huffed. “Give me a moment.”
I sat down in a rather expensive looking computer chair, not caring that I was probably ruining it. I signed out the story to him, telling him about Calder showing up and how I had to defend Atalanta and myself, ending with Atalanta falling unconscious.
When I was done, Theseus stared down at Atalanta for a minute before saying, “she probably was triggered by something in the fight. Maybe the blood or something. It’s been clear that she has PTSD from whatever happened in her past.”
I waited for him to look back to me before signing. "But why wouldn’t she have woken up by now? She doesn’t look catatonic.”
“I think she just fell asleep, to be honest. Most likely, once her body was down, it felt like staying down once her brain recovered. We need to remember that her body is still pretty strained from the change. She's bound to take random naps.”
I pursed my lips, still worried about the fainting. “You think she fainted because she was overwhelmed by something?” I asked.
Theseus nodded. “More than likely. She’s proven to be vulnerable to anxiety attacks. With how much stress she’s been under, I’m surprised she’s only conking out on us now.”
I frowned. “She was prone to panic attacks before the change, as well. Mr. Clark mentioned to me that he once had to sit with her in the woman’s bathroom while she had one.”
“His name is Hip, Percy. Stop being so damn formal. And while we’re at it, use more conjunctions, you sound weird.”
I ignored his comment and signed, "we should figure out her triggers. That way we can better avoid them and help work her through them.”
He sighed. "Agreed. Let’s get you two cleaned up. Luckily, I have two bathrooms. Take a shower so I can take a look at your wounds.”
He stood and picked Atalanta up to carry her into his bathroom. “Try not to pass out while you’re in there!”
I tampered down the jealousy of him seeing hold her so lovingly. After everything that had just happened, my possessiveness was rather high, but I logically knew that it was simply instinct that made me want to punch Theseus and take Atalanta back into my own arms.
When I stood, the dried blood made my skin stick to the back of his chair and it peeled away rather weirdly. Yes, I was certain he would have me buy him a new chair as well.
Chapter Eleven