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Lance would like to let it be known that this was probably one of the best days he’s had at camp until it all went to shit.
Allura was back and no longer in danger of being married off to a giant one-eyed-too-old-for-a-mentally-seventeen-years-old-technically-two-thousand-but-whos-counting-teenage-girl, and they won capture the flag (again) later that afternoon.
While Keith and Lance were usually the ones who carried the team alongside Allura, Pidge, and Hunk, Allura and Lance really locked in that afternoon. Now that Allura wasn’t in imminent danger, Lance really learned to appreciate the empathy link.
It was like they knew what the other was going to do without having to speak. They were a blur of pink and blue running through the forest when he didn’t have Keith to cover his back.
After they won, Allura nervously came up to him.
“I can sever the empathy link now,” Allura smiled, but Lance saw a hint of sadness there. It wasn’t hard to miss. Allura was his best friend, a sister in another life. “I wanted to apologize for connecting us without your consent. You could’ve died. I’m sorry.”
“Allura, you could’ve died if you didn’t do it,” Lance reminded her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad that you chose me. Really.”
The creases between her brows softened a bit as she relaxed. “Yes, well. I can break the connection now that I’m not a soon-to-be-bride–”
“No.”
Allura blinked.
“No?”
“No. I want to keep it.” Lance backpedaled at the confusion on her face. “I mean– if you’re okay with it. I know I could probably die if you ever kicked the bucket,” Allura’s confusion only became worse at the unfamiliar metaphor, and Lance chuckled.“But I’m okay with that. I want to know if you’re ever in danger. I’ll come and find you. So, if you’re okay with it. I want to keep the link.” Lance nodded resolutely.
Allura watched him with her big, blue-almost-purple eyes for a moment before her expression melted into a watery smile and she launched herself into his arms.
“Thank you,” She whispered, her accent tinted with a waver.
“Of course, Princess,” The nickname rolled off his tongue with ease. The same nickname he’d use for his little cousin back home. Lance wrapped his arms around her, and they stayed like that for a while before Hunk ran over, spouting nonsense about Pidge and Keith trying to drown each other by the docks. Something about Keith accidentally cutting some of her hair with his sword when she was trying to grow it back out.
Later, once Lance had forcibly dragged Keith by his armpits away from a furiously cursing Pidge, and Lance wrapped Keith in a towel– “Can’t you just use your water boy powers and dry us off?” Pidge huffed– Coran pulled him aside.
“I just wanted to let you know that there is no longer a call for your arrest,” Coran smiled, explaining how his school no longer blamed him for blowing up the gymnasium when the Canadians attacked Lance and Nadia.
“How did you manage that?” Lance gaped.
“I have my ways.” Coran’s eyes twinkled as he winked and twisted his ginger mustache. But when Lance continued to watch him with his mouth open, Coran sighed. “I manipulated the mist. Oh, the wonders of magical barriers. One day, I will teach you. Someday soon.”
Lance didn’t bother biting down a bright grin. “Sooo, does that mean I can go back to Meriwether Prep next year?”
Coran barked a laugh. “Oh, no. You are still very much expelled, my boy. Something about– how did he put it?– Ungroovy karma that disrupted the school’s educational aura. But you’re not in any legal trouble, which was a relief to your mother. Oh, and speaking of your mother…”
Coran tossed him a golden drachma in order to Iris Message his mother by the docks, whistling and giving him a grimace and a thumbs up, before cantering away.
Lance winced as his mother spouted her worries at him furiously. He had a feeling the sole reason she wasn’t cursing him out in Spanish instead of English was because his friends were all right behind him. Lance’s face burned as everyone, including the soaked Keith and Pidge, who had made up just to hound on Lance, cackled and rolled around in the sand as his mother said his full government name.
What made it infinitely worse: his siblings were right behind his mother, a perfect mirror to Keith and Pidge. Lance flipped them off when his mother turned around to scold them.
“Sorry, mama,” Lance sighed, defeated when Keith and Pidge hadn’t stopped laughing, and Allura began to join in with a sorry-not-sorry glance at Lance.
“Oh, at least you’re alright,” She said. “We were all worried about you. Disappearing like that? Dios.”
“We started taking bets!” His sister, Veronica, chimed in. “If you died, I was going to get your seashell collection!”
His mother smacked Veronica on the arm, threatening Marco and Rachel when they broke down into cackles.
Lance huffed a laugh, straightening up a bit. “I could come home?”
“No, no,” His mother immediately objected. “Stay. Train. You’ll need it, mijo.” His mother bit his lip. “But maybe come home a week early? We miss you, Lance.”
Lance felt his eyes water a bit before he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good, Mama.”
The sun was setting when Nadia bounded up to him, exclaiming that she had looked everywhere– and why was he hiding from her?
“I’m not hiding from you, Nadia,” Lance reassured with a laugh, patting the spot next to him. “Just wanted to watch the sun set before the bonfire tonight.”
Nadia sat next to him, immediately leaning her head against his forearm. She was too short to reach his shoulder. Lance smiled, ruffling her brown hair.
After a while of silence and Lance waiting for Nadia to tell him what was wrong (he could tell she wanted to say something, but was staying quiet for as long as possible for Lance’s sake), she finally burst.
“Daddy visited me in a dream,” She blurted.
Lance quirked a brow. That wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. He leaned a little bit away from her to look her in her big, brown eye.
“He told me…” She fumbled for the right words. “He wants Nadia to live with him. To help with forges.”
“He wants you to… what, make weapons?”
Nadia nodded before adding in like an afterthought that Poseidon wanted her to create all sorts of things. Lance would admit, he was a little jealous. Poseidon never invited him to his underwater castle. But he supposed it made sense. Nadia, for a ten-year-old, had a mind as sharp as Keith’s sword when it came to inventing. Hunk had loved her, immediately getting over his nervousness when he found out she could invent things. But then, Lance realized that meant that Nadia would be leaving camp. Leaving him.
“That’s awesome, Nadia.” Lance pulled her in for a side hug. “I know you’ll do amazing, Sweetheart.”
Nadia burrowed into him, ever the fanatic for Lance’s habit of giving people nicknames. Sweetheart was her favorite.
“Yes. He wants me to do an intern… in…tern…” Lance watched her struggle for a moment, her brows furrowing in concentration as she tried to pluck the word from her memories.
“Internship?”
“Yes!”
Lance smiled, shoving down the sadness for Nadia’s sake. “When do you leave?”
“Now.”
Lance blinked. “Now?”
Nadia nodded enthusiastically. “Now.” But then, she got this sad look in her eye, and Lance’s heart broke a little bit.
“I don’t want to leave brother,” Nadia mumbled, leaning further into him for comfort. “Nadia never had a brother before.” She sniffled. “I like it. I like you.”
Lance cooed, tears immediately springing to his eyes as he wiped the beginning of hers. “Oh, Nadia. I’ll always be here when you want to visit. Mama would love to have you over, you know that!”
Nadia nodded against his chest, watching the water ripple. The sunlight danced on the waves, sea salt thick on their tongues. “I will miss you,” She said sadly.
“I’ll miss you too, little girl,” Lance said immediately. “C’mere.” He pulled her in for one last hug. She barely reached his torso. After a long moment, she pulled away. Then, she faced the water and whistled, high and sharp.
Rainbow, the hippocampus that helped them earlier during their quest, burst from the water within a minute. Lance helped Nadia clamber on and told her to hold on tight before placing a soft kiss to her hair. “Be safe!” He called, as Rainbow took her away. He watched until they disappeared beneath the waves.
Lance continued to stand there for a while. The sun was just gone over the horizon when he heard footsteps approaching from behind, and someone called his name.
“Lance!”
Allura and Keith jogged down, their feet thumping against the wood of the dock.
Lance smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nadia… she–”
“We know,” Keith said softly, eyes watching Lance as he offered him a sympathetic look. “Coran told us.”
“She will be fine, Lance. Don’t worry,” Allura reassured gently, clasping her hands together.
“I heard the foods shit, though,” Keith said, like a passing thought. Allura elbowed him. “But yeah. She’ll be okay.”
Keith offered him a hand, and Lance took it. Neither of them mentioned the lingering of deep warmth and tanned coolness before walking away back toward the dining pavilion. Lance, Keith, and Allura. Just like old times.
It was raining. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, but it wasn’t too common either. With the magical border surrounding camp and the fleece back on Shirogane’s tree, they could control any weather that came within their dome, away from the world.
Still, Lance’s dreams were restless. He heard Kronos taunting him from the depths of Tartarus: Polyphemus sits blindly in his cave, young hero, believing he has won a great victory. Are you any less deluded? The titan’s cold laughter filled the darkness. Lance could see a faint glow as it grew in the distance, hideous laughter growing with it. He was blinded, and then–
Lance awoke with a start to pounding on his door. Then, Allura and Hunk barged in, tripping over their words. Lance was shocked, mostly because Allura was usually the calm one who could collect their jumble of words and translate them into something coherent, but it was different now.
“Lance… Keith, he–” Allura started.
“The tree!” Hunk gasped, hands on his knees. “Keith… on the ground–”
“He’s just lying there…”
Lance shot up from his bed as soon as his sleep-addled mind could comprehend the main thing they were trying to say. Keith was in trouble. He was posted to guard the golden fleece tonight. Lance scrambled, nearly tripping over his bedsheets as he shoved a shirt and shoes on. Then, they were out the door and sprinting toward the tree, Allura and Hunk right behind him, and his blood icy cold in his veins as his heart threatened to jump right out of his chest.
The night was still dark, and rain poured all around them, soaking through their clothes instantly. An array of campers, nymphs, and satyrs in armor and pajamas were either running toward the tree or peeking out from their cabins. The blue of the night was broken with warm lights flicking on in the cabins as word got around. Something really huge had happened.
“Lance!” A voice called, and Lance yelped when he was suddenly grabbed by his collar and on the back of Coran. Turns out, Allura and Hunk hadn’t been right behind him after all. Lance held onto Hunk, and Hunk held onto Allura.
“Is it true?” Coran asked gravely as they neared Shirogane’s tree. His hooves clomped wetly on the ground, his ginger hair plastered to his face.
Allura could only nod in her daze, Hunk looked about ready to vomit. That’s when Lance noticed the tears in her eyes, grief and anguish that helped in no way to calm Lance’s heart.
“Curse the Titan Lord,” Coran muttered. “He’s tricked us yet again. Given himself another way to control the prophecy.”
“What do you mean?” Lance asked, a little annoyed now. Couldn’t Coran go any faster?
“The fleece,” Coran shook his head. “The fleece has done its work too well.”
Before Lance could even begin to decipher what that could’ve meant, the crowd parted, and they stood in front of the tree. There, on the ground, lay a boy. And next to him, crouched down was another. Lance didn’t have to squint to know it was Keith, his mullet peeking out from beneath his helmet. Pidge sat beside him, trying to speak to Keith.
The blood roaring in his ears began to settle just the slightest bit when he couldn’t see any blood or major injury on Keith. But Lance’s body moved on its own, aching to have him in his hands, a physical reassurance that he was really okay.
He nearly slipped in the mud as he jumped off Coran’s back, falling to his knees in front of Keith as he removed his helmet. “Keith, buddy?” Lance squished his face with his hands, turning him every which way as he checked for injuries. “You alright? What happened?”
Keith was sobbing, dark eyes glimmering in the wake of the flashlights several campers had brought. “Fuck, he was just… I was guarding it– he was just there!” Gone was the restful brood and sharp grins, and here was a boy in pieces. Lance got a sense of deja vu as he thought back to the sirens.
Lance followed Keith’s shaky eyes to the man on the ground. He looked a few years older than himself, and he was clearly unconscious. Lance gave Keith one last look over, catching Coran and Pidge talking. She must’ve moved at some point. Something about the fleece healed more than just the tree.
Lance grunted as he hefted the man to sit upright, his head leaning against his shoulder. He checked his pulse, his skin slipping on his neck. Lance wiped the white hair from his face. The boy looked to be more of a man, maybe around twenty-one or twenty-two. He had a lightning scar, jagged across his nose. His hair was close-cropped and black, but the top of it was white. He wore a black t shit and dirty jeans.
“He needs nectar and ambrosia,” Lance said matter-of-factly. When no one moved, frustration alongside his general I-don’t-kn0w-what-the-fuck-is-going-on began to twist and turn as he snapped. “What’s wrong with you people?! Come on! Let’s get him to the Big House!”
When no one moved, Lance bit back a stream of curses as he began to lift the man by his arms– but he slipped from one side. Like, Lance couldn’t get a proper grip.
Looking down, a frown tugged at his lips as he searched the man again. His fingertips were burning as he grappled with pale skin. Why couldn’t he lift the guy up? He was heavy, but surely–
Oh.
Oh.
The man’s eyes fluttered, squinting against the plops of rain that made it past the tree’s branches. Lance gasped as he met his eyes, his startling black eyes. They were far from ordinary, and while they were dark, they seemed to hold the very night sky in them. Like the stars existed simply to reflect in them.
Lance’s stomach sank as his mind finally came to the realization that everyone else had been so nice to point out.
Deja vu and familiarity mixed together to create something ugly and startling. This man was a demigod; that much was clear. But Lance finally recognized him, remembered him from a realm of dreams that only served to confuse him further.
Lance also realized that the man beneath him had no right arm. Nothing but a stub at his elbow.
“What the…” The man’s voice was low and rumbly, cracking from disuse. “Where am I?”
Lance swallowed when no one answered, forcing the dryness from his mouth. “You’re at Camp Half Blood. You’re okay now.”
“Who are…”
“Lance. Lance McClain.”
“Strangest damn dream…”
“It, uh, wasn’t a dream. But, like I said. You’re okay now.”
“Dying…”
“Nope. You’re fine, don’t sweat it, man.”
And like Lance was an idiot that needed confirmation that he wasn’t making up what he knew in the marrow of his bones to be true, he asked:
“What’s your name?”
The man blinked, meeting his eyes again. Except this time, Lance felt like he was looking into his very soul. Electricity crackled in this man's veins as his gaze hardened.
“Takashi Shirogane,” He said. “Son of Zeus."