It hurt, a throb in his legs that made moving hard, thoughts harder. He should have known better than to go against Sam here of all places. But then, knowing better had never been Percy's strong point. He liked to react, and then think. It always seemed to work better that way
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He pushed himself off the wall from where he had been painting a new mural. Shirtless, covered in paint, he looked down at Percy.
"What are you?"
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Maybe it was the pain. Or maybe it was just Percy being Percy.
"Nothing to you," he growled out finally, putting all his waning strength into pulling himself up a little more, looking for a way out.
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Johnny's face spread into a broad grin at the prospect of easy prey. He'd been bored down here.
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Walking, he decided, was the least of his worries. He'd need blood to sustain any strength, and he somehow suspected Johnny wasn't going to freely offer it.
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