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Percy staggered backwards once he had killed the final hellhound. It had been a difficult battle, and not just because they had travelled in a pack of six. He was exhausted by midterms meaning that all he wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep for the next week and he was alone on this walk meaning he had no back up in the fight. It also meant that he had to get home by himself with still-bleeding gashes. If he had been less tired, he might have remembered to pack something to heal himself with, alas his efforts to pass his exams had robbed him of all higher brain functioning.
He stumbled through the streets until he reached his apartment. Hopefully, his mom or Paul or Annabeth would be in because he didn’t know if he would be conscious enough to heal his injures. He was running on fumes and determination. He was pretty sure the only reason he was still alive was sheer stubbornness.
With shaking hands, he unlocked the door. He stepped inside only to find himself face-to-face with his mom and step-dad.
“I… I think I might need a bit of help,” he said before he pitched forwards and his vision went dark.