How his definition of normalcy had become "not wearing blue robes and transfiguring from a bird to a human" would certainly be a story she had a desire to hear, but of course, that pended if she ever actually learned that herself. However, now her whole focus was on the man, her eyes now alert rather than spacy. Bless the children for teaching her how to stay calm in a panic and bless her siblings for imparting some of their medical knowledge into her, as much as she could do without magic. "Don't," Annabeth instructed, digging into her own pocket for hers - far less nice than his, but with stitchings of birds along the edges, "You'll only make it worse. Let me." Folded up neatly, she presses the square to his arm with little regard for what state her handkerchief would be in - or stopping to ponder if maybe she should ask permission first.