Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Freefall

Will Solace could not believe his luck.

"You? Chiron choose you to be pilot?"

That out of all the demigods

" Yup, he sure did !"

Out of all the dozens, more qualifiable demigods,

"You're lying. I don't believe you."

It has to be him.

" Believe it ."

The world's most impudent, annoyingest, little twat.

"Nuh uh. There's no way."

A selfish, inconsiderate, imbecilic idiot.

" Yes way ."

A monster with no boundaries.

"No…no no nonono."

With a just as evil twin.

" Yes! "

The one and only, Travis Stoll.

"Come on, Solace. Stop pouting, it isn't that bad." Travis has his usual crooked smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief. In his hands, he shuffles a deck of cards slowly, lazily. It irks Will for some reason and he looks away.

"I'm not pouting. I just find it hard to believe that Chiron chose you to be the pilot." Hard to believe? It's unbelievable. "You know, given the fact that you can barely get on a pegasus in the first place," snorted Will as he stack cartons into the chariot.

Travis' smirk seem to widen at the fact and he's nudging Will's arm with an elbow. "Good thing Chiron doesn't know that, huh?"

Travis Stoll, along with his equally as idiotic brother Connor Stoll, is the bane of Will's existence. Will swears on his father's harp that they exist only to torment him. From his first day of camp, not a single day has gone by without some kind of childish prank from the infamous duo.

Pie in the face, bucket above the door, snake in the medic bag.

The past five or so years with them has been nothing short of hell on Will's part. And if Will wasn't the target of their pranks, he's usually the one to patch up and comfort the unlucky recipient, or recipients, of their pranks.

"Why are you really here, Travis?" Will asked as he tighten the reins on their pegasi, Lollypop and Starlight, and inspected their wings. They neighed softly, nuzzling his cheek with their snout.

There was a nervous chuckle. "Other than to make your life miserable? I planted some stink bombs in Cabin 9's make up bags. Wouldn't want to be here when it goes off. Ha, ha, ha."

"You're despicable."

"And you're a doofus." His lips curved into that malicious smile that usually means 'I am going to make your blood pressure go through the roof.'

"What? You're hoping Nico would be pilot? He's an even worse choice than I am. He can't even get near a pegasus! They're terrified of him."

"Don't say that about Nico," Will snapped, "Saying stuff like that only alienates him."

Travis rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. But it's true. You have to admit that. And besides, getting treated a little differently won't kill him, no need to get all worked up."

But before Will can say anything, Travis pushed pass him and leaped onto the chariot, turning to look down at him with a lazy smile. "Now, come on, Sunshine. We wouldn't want to be late, right? I heard Reyna is a big no-no for tardiness!"

The Camp Exchange Program began two days after the demise of Gaea, courtesy of Reyna and Annabeth's extensive and eager planning. A way to have the best of both worlds, some might say. The Romans get to enjoy the carefreeness of Camp Half Blood and the Greeks have the opportunity to suffer through the disciplinary principles of Camp Jupiter. Best of both worlds.

Right.

Will rather clean the stables with his bare hands than spend his summer at Camp Jupiter. Luckily, his duties as healer to Camp Half Blood prevented him from leaving for too long. However, as one of the more responsible seniors and a pretty decent navigator, his position does not save him from the delivery trips.

Unsurprisingly, the beginning was anything but peaceful.

It is a well-known fact in Camp Half Blood that Cabin 11's residents are more hyperactive (and more unbearable) than the average demigod, with more energy and spunk in their engines than thought possible. Their speed and numbers may be great for the weekly Capture-The-Flag games, but for anything else, they are a curse to be with.

And on the 8 of August, Will Solace can say his mental endurance increased tenfold all thanks to a certain chatty brunette.

"Okay, so you know how our cabin has always been crowded? There's never enough beds, never enough toiletries, never enough anything! It takes us like forever to get them all line up for breakfast. And don't even get me started on those tables. It would be a lot easier if we have a bigger cabin. So I talk with Chiron and you wouldn't believe what he said! Take a guess!

...

Well, he said no! He said that if we want to make the cabin bigger, the other cabins need to be made bigger too! Something about maintaining the order in power or something. It's ridiculous! Our cabin has over 60 kids! You only have, what? 30? Katie has 15, Malcolm has 20, Clarisse have 25, and Clovis and Lou Ellen only have 5 kids in their cabin! How can Chiron deny our request? I swear one of these days we're going on strike. So we had to come up with a new plan for more space. We thought about two demigods sharing a bed, but only a couple of us are comfortable sharing. Some of the younger ones thought about sleeping outside in a tent, you know, like actual camping. Then we told them about the harpies and that idea was shot down too. Dude, their faces when we told them about those nasty wenches, kodak moment. Sometimes, though, I don't know what to do with them. Honestly, I swear it's like the closer they get to twelve, the more rowdier they become. Oh! Did I tell you about Daniel? The kid with the wacky red hair? Well, guess what he did today? He poured milk on Ellie's hair. Both me and Chris had to pin Ellie down or she would have torn Daniel apart. Poor kid, think he's scarred for life...Hey, are you listening? Sunshine? Solace?"

After the first five minutes, Will had completely tuned Travis out, eyes trained only on the map in his hands. Their first rest stop would be in Saint Louis, Missouri, followed by Denver, Colorado and Reno, California before their final destination of San Francisco. A long 40 hours with nothing, but the son of Hermes and two pegasus for company.

A sudden lurch in the chariot elicited a scream from Will and a hasty scramble for the nearest railing. He shot a glare at the pilot sitting on the head of the chariot, his feet casually swinging 10,000 feet above the ground. Travis grinned.

"Oops, my bad!"

For a couple of minutes, Will contemplated whether he could push the death of his pilot as a very tragic accident, then he thought about Connor and the ensuing pranks that would come for not "saving" his brother. Nothing was worth that trouble.

"That's not funny," Will said with gritted teeth.

"It was funny! Like I was saying before, I think Caleb may be Apollo's son. He loves music and can play a dozen different instrument, but he can't stomach the sight of blood. I suppose we don't inherit all of our godly parent's attributes. He has a major fear of the dark, so you need to keep watch of that. And he's very soft-spoken. Doesn't like to join in with the group unless pushed…."

Will tuned out the chatter again. He shifted his focus towards the speeding landscape below him, cheek resting on a hand.

Gods, he couldn't see why the camp couldn't just slap a Hermes Express label on these packages and just ship it. That's what the Romans do. It would be so much more easier and Will wouldn't have to be stuck up here with—

"The Camp doesn't have enough drachma to pay Dad to ship all these items over every month."

"Huh?" Snapped out of his reverie, Will glanced at his companion.

Travis flashed him an infuriating smirk and waved his hand flippantly, "You Cabin 7 kids are like an open book, super easy to read. As I said, the Camp doesn't have enough drachmas. The Romans may have the dough but we sure don't. Flying it over ourselves is cheaper. Sure, it's time-consuming and tiring and an absolute bore, but hey! Think of it as a perfect opportunity for us to bond!"

"I rather bond with a chimpanzee then with you," said Will, then his eyes narrowed and a question came to mind. "How would you know about the Camp's expenses?"

"I broke into the vault."

"Of course you did," sighed Will. What makes him think I won't tell Chiron about this?

"It wasn't even well guarded, incredibly easy to get into. I'm sure someone like you with your clumsy hands could break in…probably...possibly …never mind. I take back what I said. You don't have the balls to do the act let alone the simple lock-picking skills needed. You'll probably turn yourself in mid way, crying to Chiron how sorry you are and how you'll never do something like that again. You're like the most ethical person I've ever met. Remember how you insisted we left money at that drug store I was raiding? We were in the battle of the century and dying and stuff and you wanted us to leave money."

"Stealing is bad." Will started to say, but Travis' face lighted up like he remember something.

"Do you remember that time your cabin made a heart out of arrows with the words 'I love Nico' in the middle?"

Will's face heat up at those words, embarrassing memories of laughing campers doing kissy faces replayed themselves in his mind. It was a huge mistake on his part for deciding to trust his siblings with whom he likes. "Oh my gods, I thought I told everyone to never bring it up again!"

"What was Nico's reaction again? Oh right. He shadow-traveled away in embarrassment. His face was as red as a monkey's bum. Can't believe you actually did something like that. I thought you cared about Nico,"

"I didn't do it! I told my cabin not to get involved! I tried to stop it but Kayla and Austin had charmed my voice so I couldn't talk! And, and, and things got out of control."

Travis laughed, not a single hint of sympathy in his tone.

"Stop laughing!" he said, hands clenching.

Not even an hour into the flight and Will was already starting to get a headache.

"Learn to lighten up, will you? Heh, he, will Will. Anyway~ as I was saying before, new campers are coming in like everyday and two at best are going out a month. I just don't see how Chiron expect us to—holy mackerel!"

Will let out a shriek as the chariot swerve precariously to the right. His hands latched on to the metal railing, knuckles white as lily petals. In the back, the cartons toppled and crashed onto the floor.

Will groaned. Ah, that's what I forgot, the ropes to tie down their packages.

The chariot swerved left and right crazily. His world became a dangerous spiral of nausea and fear. Any second now Will's going to upchuck his breakfast. He inched himself forward until he was beside his companion.

"What the hell is going on, Stoll?" Will asked, impressed his voice only held a slight tremble and not high-pitched and squeaky as the situition should call for.

Will gave another shriek as the chariot took a deep dive then shot upwards in a near vertical slope. And in the back, the cartons rolled and tumbled. Some boxes crashed into Will's back and its contents—paint brushes, pencils, papers—spilling over the metal bed. Others flew out the back. Well, I'm sure Reyna and Chiron would never want us delivering again.

Travis pulled at the reins frantically. Some time recently, he slid off the headboard and now both feet are planted securely on the chariot floor. "Something spooked the pegasi! I think it's a monster! There! I see it, to the right! Woah!"

Will groaned as Lollipop and Pegasi roared, a guttural sound that leaves his ears ringing.

"What should we do?"

"Use your bow," Travis yelled, eyes shooting to the left and hands tightening on the reins. Will looked over but saw nothing but the blur of white and grey clouds racing past them.

"I-I-I can't. I left my bow back at camp," Will said, the words 'I have bad aiming' on the tip of his tongue. Travis probably knows that already. Just last month their cabins had archery class together.

Travis took it in stride, moving on to what must be done. "Here, take the reins. I'll take it down."

When Travis meant take the reins, he really meant catch because the reins were thrown at him rather than passed. It wouldn't be a problem in Will's book if the frigging reins were tossed in his direction, which they weren't .

Will leapt to his feet, rocketing nearly over the head of the chariot, and stretched out his hand. The hooks of his fingers graze the rope. There was a fumble, a moment of panic— Crap, I'm not going to catch it, it's slipping, oh crap it is slipping —and a sudden burst of speed before Will got it all under control.

With him at the front and not cowering at the corner, Will realized just how fast they truly are going. The ground blended together until it was nothing but a sea of green and brown and blue. The air whipped across his face, sharp and stinging. Will could barely stand without toppling back, eyes fighting to stay open. Occassionally something large and black flickers in his peripheral vision but it's gone by the time he turns to it.

It's almost like they're being toyed with.

At this pace, it wouldn't be long until Starlight and Lollipop run out of power. We got to land now or we'll crash. I hope we crash on top of a mattress store.

In the back, he heard Travis screamed, "Where is it? Where the holy cheese is it?"

Will tried. He really, really tried. He had pulled on the reins, urged the pegasi to listen to him. He even sang a soothing hymn in hopes of calming their panic but nothing worked. The chariot continued to buckle, lurch, twirl and basically became the world's worst roller coaster ride. Inevitably, the pegasi began to slow down and Will could make out the shapes of trees and mountains below. "Come on, guys. Head towards the ground," he pleaded. Maybe it was the exhaustion or they were finally listening but the chariot began to slowly dip downwards.

Then there was the flicker. Barely perceptible, easily overlookable. Too fast for the eye to follow. But it came like a semi truck, striking Starlight from the side, sickening cracks of bones breaking and shattering followed, and rammed the pegasi against Lollypop. Starlight went limp immediately and the chariot plummeted. It took all it had in Will to keep his hands locked on the rail and feet planted on the bed of the chariot. He sank to his knees, eyes screwed shut, heart beating on his rib cage, banging to be let out. Oh my gods. Oh my gods. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. My blood vessels are going to burst, blood pumping to nowhere, massive internal bleeding.

Then there was a hiss, two hisses. And renewed, frantic whining up above forced Will to open his eyes. He press his shaking side against the metal and peered over the edge. Lollypop was kicking and whimpering in panic, her wings flutter frantically. Starlight hung from the reins, unresponsive, and beyond, a figure of brown fur and black hide, of white fangs and grey antlers.

The thing let out what Will think was a triumphant howl before leaping on top of Starlight's dead weight body, her delicate wing bones cracking underneath the beast's claws.

A mane of brown surrounded burning red eyes that burned a path to Will. The thing, beast, monster growled, a sound he will forever remember as deep, terrifying, and nightmare material. Wings as black as charcoal spread behind the monster's back and its head (well, one of the heads) smacked its lips.

A chimera. I'm facing a chimera, he finally registered.

Will only had time to screamed, "Travis, chimera!" in warning before the beast lunged, jaws snapping.

All those years of training must have kicked in because Will ducked and press himself further into the chariot's corner. Air whistled above him and the jaws narrowly missed his face, snapping at strands of his hair. It crashed into the end of the chariot, nearly skidding off but paws steadying itself.

Did I pack any ambrosia? Do I even have my medic bag with me? Will thought before the monster let out a screech. Something akin to irritation flash in its ruby orbs. Paws stamped the ground and a snake, from the chimera's behind, hissed and spitted. Then it turned, the lion head growled, eyes fixed on him, mouth agape. It took a step forward, leg muscles bunching together,and pouncing towards—SMACK!

Will jumped at the sound. The beast whimpered, blood dripping from its jaw. Travis stood up beside him, one hand on the rail, the other grasping a baseball bat. Quickly, Travis leaned forward and shoved the bat forward, pushing the chimera off. He scurried back over to Will's side.

"A baseball bat? How-wh-where did you even get that?" Will asked shakily, breaths coming in hard and short cycles.

Travis didn't acknowledged his words. He peered over the edge, looked at Lollypop, whinnying and flapping wildly, and Starlight, dead weight. "We have to let go," Travis said after a moment, leaning back down.

"What?" No.

"We got to let go of the rail, Will. The shock from the crash will kill us." Travis said steadily.

"So will slamming into the ground a-and what about Lollypop, Starlight? We can't just—!" Leave them? Abandon them? No.

There was a flicker of pain in Travis's eyes but as quick as it came, it disappear quicker. "We have to. There's no way we can—"

"We can't just leave her to die!" Will yelled.

"Will," Travis said, his hands clasped his shoulder and shook gently, "Think. Use that gifted brain of yours. What can we do? We got nothing to cut the reins off. And it takes too long to undo them. We can either die with her or we can both live." And his hands clasped Will's. "Let's go. We got to go."

"But I—there has to be a way. Anything. We can't just—No, no I won't, I can't do it." Tears welled up in Will's eyes. He locked his gaze on Lollypop. She's frantically kicking, wings flapping feverently. Starlight's still limp and although Will isn't specializing in animal health it isn't hard to see that Starlight needs urgent care.

Beside him, Travis let out a quiet sigh of frustration but when he spoke there was nothing but resolulity. "Will, you have to choose now. Do you want to live or die? Personally, I want to live. Connor will kill me if I die without him."

"Then save yourself then. Why wait for me?"

Travis quirks a smile and say jokingly, "Because I'm scared of your siblings." Then the hands wrapped around his tightened, "But if you really can't leave her, I'll figure something out. I'm not sure what but I'm sure the solution will present itself. I'm a really quick thinker, especially under pressure."

Will closed his eyes. He's lying . He could feel his doubt, no matter no steady his voice and hands remain. How can I save Lollypop? I don't have my knife. What can I do?

He opened his eyes. Lollypop looked back at him, her eyes begging for his help. To save her. Not to leave her. Not to abandon her. Travis is over the edge, actions covered by his body. Is he trying to undo the reins? He's yelling something that sounds suspiciously like "Why are all these knots so complicated?"

Will squeezed his eyes shut, forever hating himself for what he said next. He grasped the bottom of Travis' shirt and tugged. "...Okay. Let's go. What do we do?"

I'm so sorry, Lollypop, Starlight.

Travis broke into his usual grin like they're weren't plummeting 120 miles per hour, "Trust me, I got it all under control. Just let go."

"That's all? Just let go?" Will asked incredulously. In response, his hands tightened on the rail and his feet dug deeper to the floor bed.

"What? You scared?" then there was the smirk. And just like that, all fears and doubts Will had dissipated and what's left is the undeniable urge to wipe that smirk off his face, no matter the cost. It is the smirk that Travis adorned when he has a trick up his sleeve, the smirk that spells out trouble and had every camper on guard, the smirk that made Will, on many occasions, sigh and prepare a bed in the infirmary, a smirk that infuriates Will to no end because he's daring him, challenging him, and Will cannot, will not let it go unanswered.

"No," and Will let go.

They say when you are freefalling, your sense of time slow down.

Will Solace can testify.

The ground, a sea of wavering green, seem to be coming closer abnormally slow. Beside him, Travis seem to be fumbling with his...shoes? Shoelaces? Doesn't really seem like he has a plan. Dear Apollo, does he really have a plan?

Gods, we're going to die, Will thought solemnly. We're going to die in the middle of who knows where on a stupid delivery trip for some stupid camp. This is not the way I wanted to go. I wanted to die protecting someone I love like Lee and Michael did. Out of all the ways to go, I perish because I was delivering art supplies. How valiant. How heroic. How—

There was a jubilant whoop from the boy next to him. Then, unbelievably, Will seemed to be slowing down. He wasn't plummeting at free fall, instead he seemed to be declining at a rate where he would suffer no broken bones.

"Yes! Caught you!"

When Will looked back, he sawed Travis holding him afloat by the back of his Camp's shirt and on his feet, the flying shoes. The elegant, white wings flapping at full force.

"Oh di immortales. I can't believe it. Where did you even got those shoes from?"

"Spare pairs I borrow." Travis said happily.

"Borrowed as in asked or borrowed as in stole?" Will couldn't resist asking. All flying shoes were confiscated two years ago when someone had flown straight into the ocean. There's no way Chiron would have given them to someone like Travis.

"Is it me or are you getting heavier? Oh no, I think my hands might be slipping."

"Hardy-har-har," Will said then an object spiraling downwards caught his eyes, "H-hey, we need to go after—"

"Oh no," Travis stated and they're zipping through the sky, away from the chariot. "It's still flying."

"What? What's still flying?" No sooner did those words pass his mouth, there was a loud, bellowing howl that send shivers down Will's spine. Horror dawned upon his face when he saw the beast, spitting fire and slashing claws, zigzagged towards them. And even though it was injured, weaving back and forth in a dazed like fashion, it still covered great, frightening distances.

"Uh, Stoll! That-that thing, chimera! It's catching up to us!"

"I know, I know! What should we do?" Travis grunted, switching his hold and tightening his grip on the shirt.

"Can't you just fly us away?"

"These shoes weren't made for a quick getaway with two people!" But Travis still tried, the wings flapping harder in the effort to fly faster. Every passing second, the chimera came closer and closer. The beast gave another roar, a sound that sounds suspiciously triumphant as if it knows its prey is at a dead end.

"Crap. Crap. Crap. It's catching up to us! But don't worry, Sunshine. I got a plan." Travis said. Will shot a glance up at the prankster to see his lips curving into a smile. "I just drop you and fly away. No need for us both to die."

"What? Stoll!" 10 feet away, tongue lolling from its bloodied maw.

"Calm down, calm down. I was joking!" Travis huffed, looking behind his shoulders. 5 feet. "But seriously, I really do have a plan. Remember Malcolm and his lessons?"

"What are you talking about?" Will asked. The chimera was upon them, a raised claw above Travis's neck. "H—hey, above you! There's a—"

"Drop, tuck and roll. I'll see you at the bottom, Solace."

Then Will was freefalling again.

It was a funny notion really. That anything in a demigod's life would go as planned.

Planning on visiting your parents for Christmas? Sure, but first you have to go through three ginormous hellhounds, two enraged chimera, and a ravenous cyclops. Want a romantic outing with your boyfriend? Of course, we will make sure you have the entire gossiping camp at your tail. What's that? You want a nice, peaceful, uninterrupted sleep? Okay, gotcha', let's have the Hermes Cabin throw a pillow fight with all hundreds of it cabinmates participating.

For the love of Zeus, all Will wanted was a break in life. That's all he really wanted.

That's what every demigod wanted.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Stranded

Will vowed to himself that if he survives this fall he’s going to kill Travis Stoll. A dagger through his heart, a blow to the head, suffocation through a pillow, strangulation. Any of these will do.

The falling wasn’t really that bad, only a few feet of terrifying, heart-stopping flips and turns. It was the objects that got on Will’s nerve although in retrospect that was what probably saved his neck. He crashed through the canopy of trees in a flurry of tosses and turns. The branches raked across his upraised arms and tucked legs (out of all the days to wear shorts), and cheeks. Will vaguely remembered Malcolm lecturing in a class on how to survive a long fall and the first thing he stated was to keep your body loose and relaxed with bent knees.

Fudge, he’s really going to kill Travis.

There was a long, thick branch jutting out of the tree that broke his fall a bit more before he landed with a hard thump on the ground, his right foot hitting the earth first followed by the rest of his body.

It took a minute for Will to even contemplate the thought of moving. After a few minutes, Will groaned and rolled onto his back, 1000% sure he tore every muscle in his body. His entire body ached like it has endured an intense 6 hours sparring with Clarisse in hand to hand combat.

When I find Travis, Will thought. I’m gonna to kill him. Seriously, I’m gonna rip the idiot a new one.  

As he lay there, gasping for breath and willing his rapidly beating heart to slow down, Will debated whether to laugh in relief that he’s alive or take a nap because now that the adrenaline rush is gone he feels immensely tired. Or better yet, get up and find Travis so Will can slap the trickster around. What the heck was Travis thinking?

A roar startled Will and he forced his eyes open, half expecting to see a frothing chimera staring down at him. He saw nothing but the gentle swaying of leaves against the breeze. Then, through the spaces, he saw him. Bat in one hand, the other in his mouth for a sharp, piercing whistle.  

“Hey! Over here! Yoooooo! Don’t ignore me! That’s so rude!”

Then Travis flew above a thick patch of leaves and out of sight. No sooner did Travis left the chimera appeared in his place. Mouth pulled back in a snarl. He’s leading it away. Will realized.

Away from me...towards him...all by himself.

“That idiot!” Will hissed, struggling to get up, but flinching at the soreness. He’s going to be killed, torn limb from limb! His plans suck more than my archery!

No, no, no. Calm down. Think about it . He must have a reasoning for doing so. He must have a plan to get away.  He can’t go shouting around and attracting every living thing to him. He should wait for Travis. He was probably dropped here for a reason.

Then the image of Starlight, her limp body, and Lollypop's frantic whimpers came to mind. They’re hurt. Starlight has broken bones. They need help now and every second count. He can’t wait for Travis.

How could I just abandon them? Butch is going to kill me. He’s going to butcher me alive. But I didn't want to leave them. I had no choice. Butch would understand it wasn’t my fault.

It wasn’t my fault, right?

Will suppose one of the benefits of being a son of Apollo is the uncanny ability to determine the time as long as the sun is up and about. It’s a quarter past three. Four hours till sundown. Four hours to find Lollypop and Starlight.

And Travis.

Forearms screaming in agony, Will pushed himself upright. His joints creaking and cracking on his way up. He didn’t seem to sustain any serious damage. Just aching bones and sore muscles. Thank Apollo.

Will tried to stand but the searing pain in his right ankle gave him pause. His eyes widen and his calming heart once again begin to pound louder and louder. Gingerly, Will slightly pushed his feet on the ground. The striking pain jolting from his ankle up his calf and leg confirmed his suspicion. He injured his ankle. Definitely sprained, possibly fractured.

Will groaned, head nestling in the crook of his arm. “Out of all the days to leave my med-pack behind…why, why, why am I like this?” The pounding in his head did nothing to alleviate his suffering.

Will took a deep breath and exhale. He checked his ankle, the joint was swollen and already bruising, the discoloring most prominent in the areas surrounding the joint.

“How could I forget Ambrosia? What kind of healer forgets Ambrosia?” Will muttered, teeth gritting together. He attempted to stand again, this time with the help of the sturdy tree’s trunk. It took some effort and a lot of grunting and yelps, but eventually Will was standing on his two legs. Well, to be more specific he’s standing on one foot.

He looked up at the sky. If he remembered correctly, the chariot fell north, no, northeast from the sun. They couldn’t have gone fall, could they? Well, the earlier he starts searching, the earlier he’ll find them.

Tentatively, Will limp forward, hand slightly leaving the support of the tree. The jolting pain forced him back to clinging the sturdy trunk.

He groaned and leaned against the tree. His eyes slid shut. His situation is hopeless. He’s stuck in some unknown forest with a sprained, possibly broken ankle. No one knows where he is. A monster is out there. Travis is gone, possibly chimera chow by now. And there’s two injured pegasi out there.

Hurting, bleeding, dying—

“Okay, okay, okay. Calm down, Will. You’re trained for this kind of situation.” His eyes spotted the branch he had broken off the tree during his fall. Will grimaced as he leaned down to pick it up. It seems sturdy enough.

Will tested it and it held his weight. “Okay, good. That’s good.”

He drew an arrow on the ground, hoping Travis understands.

The first few steps Will took was nothing short of unsteady. The pain from his ankle was enough to bring tears to his eyes. The branch seemed to hold though and Will thank whichever god is watching over him. His luck seems to be holding out. Which is a surprise. Normally demigods never have such luck.

The only comfort his situation bring was the fact that the forest he was currently stumbling through was similar to the forest back at camp. Tall, immense trees tower overhead with gentle breezes whistling through the leaves. Birds chirped and flew overhead and squirrels scuttled up trees and across branches.

Will tramped around the forest for the next few hours, taking a break every half hour. His ears were wide open, hoping to pick up the sound of wings or neighing. Lollypop and Starlight were younger than the pegasi back at camp. Chiron had intended the two youngsters to gain more experience during this trip although Butch had profusely disagreed and even attempted to go on a one-man strike. The only thing that stopped the son of Iris from his protesting was the fact that Will had promised Butch that he would take very good care of the pegasi. Now Will could clearly see he was not to be trusted.

Then there is the issue of the still missing Travis, Travis who's facing the monster alone with no celestial weapon, no backup, no real weapon. Worry gnawed at Will. Why did he want to face the monster alone? We could have fought together and I could have...I could have...I could have done nothing except watch. I’m useless in a battle. I can’t even shoot an arrow straight. But what about Travis? Is he a decent fighter? I don’t know. I hope so. But what if that beast bested Travis? What if he’s lying somewhere, bleeding to death? What if he crawled back to where I was dropped and saw I wasn’t there? What if—

Nope, nope, nope. Can’t think like that, Will berated himself. He have faith (sorta) in Travis and his abilities.

But as the sun lower and lower, Will’s hope dwindle. Ten minutes till sunset and no pegasi, no Travis.

Will leaned his back against a tree and sighed in relief as some of the weight is taken of his throbbing ankle. At least I have this stick, you’re my new best pal…

He looked at the sky and at the setting sun, slowly inching closer and closer to the horizon. Please Dad, I’m begging you. Please, please, please help me find Travis or Starlight and Lollypop.  

Mid prayer, Will paused. His eyes narrowed as he pick up a sound to his right. There was the rustling of leaves and the snapping of branches. Then he heard what sound like tennis shoes thudding across the earth. Will’s hope soared and a smile lit up on his face. Travis! He’s alive!

Scrambling to his feet, Will lurched unsteadily toward the noise which sounded suspiciously like an elephant purposely colliding with every tree and snapping every branch in its path.

Will hesitated. Is it Travis? Isn’t his father the God of Thieves? Oh gods, what if it’s someone else? Then a voice accompany the thumping and Will definitely knows that voice. It wasn’t long however that Travis’s voice soon overshadow his booming footsteps. And Will heard his voice long before he saw him.

“Gah, why are there so many branches?”

“Holy macaroni, what is with these bugs? Go away. Stop bothering me!”

“I need bug spray. Why didn’t I bring bug spray?”

“Gods, I hate the forest. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. How can anyone love these annoying, disgusting—agh! Where did that rock come from?”

The son of Hermes rounded a tree and came into view, arms thrashing at the air for no apparent reason and obscenities flying through his mouth a mile a second.

Will winced at the amount of noise his campmate was making. Travis screamed in frustration when he practically tripped over nothing and Will had no doubt that Travis was a second away from throwing a temper tantrum when their eyes met.

“Solace, oh my gods, I found you! You made it out okay!” Travis exclaimed, a happy chime devoid of any previous irritation in his voice.

Will did a quick checkover, an automatic response trained in him since childhood. He seems to be standing alright, no walking stick or device to help support his weight present. There’s multiple cuts and scratches on his cheeks, arms and legs but they’re not gushing blood. The edges of his camp shirts were blackened as well as the seams of his khakis and Will distinctly remembered that chimeras are fire-breathing. But Travis doesn’t seem to be burned in any way. Then there’s that forming bruise on his right forearm, but otherwise he’s fine. Will sighed in relief. So he wasn’t lying dead and bleeding, thank—

“I thought for sure you’ll be dead! I’m actually really surprised you’ll still alive and kicking, you know, given your affinity for attracting disaster and misfortune. I figure a deer or a beaver would have gotten to you first.”

And not even a minute after their reunion, Will’s relief turn to irritation. Why was I even worried for this him?

“First of all, I’m surprised you’re alive. I could hear you a mile away with all that screaming and stomping you did. And second, why the fuck did you drop me?”

His damn grin grew into an even bigger grin, “Language, Willy, you wouldn’t want to set a bad example as a counselor! I know how impressionable those newly claimed 12 year olds get. And anyway, it’s like you said, you’re a horrible archer and I couldn’t fight back carrying you. So, yeah. I had to do what I had to do.”

If I had been a better archer than maybe...

“And letting me fall 100 feet was the best option?”

“10 feet. Stop exaggerating, you big baby. And yeah, dropping you was the fastest option and the safest for you! I mean, everyone at camp knows your horrendous, absolutely pathetic skills when it comes to fighting. If I couldn’t kill the monster then what chances do you have?”

Will gritted his teeth. “Okay, fine. Whatever. Let’s just push this behind us. Where is the monster?”

“Vulture meal,” announced Travis with a proud smirk.

“Really? Why do I find that hard to believe? How did you even kill it?”

“It wasn’t easy. I had to smack it around with my bat for a really long time. Nearly got burned into a crisp in multiple occasions. Dude, never do I want to face a chimera ever again. They’re so—”

“And where did you got that bat in the first place?” Will interrupted.

“Oh! For my birthday Dad gave me this bag.” Travis pointed at the backpack on his back. It was a regular sized pack that one would buy for a kid at school. There was nothing memorable about it though if Will thinks about it, all magical items doesn’t seem much on the outside.

“It can give me any athletic equipment I want. Gears, clothes, shoes, balls, you name it, it can make it! Connor got the same thing for his birthday except his bag gives him sports drinks and energy bars. Any packaged foods, I guess. His baggie is so handy for those midnight cravings.”

Will sighed as Travis rambled on and on, hand waving animatedly. He shifted uncomfortably on his foot and his face twist when he tousled his injured ankle too much. Then Travis’s words compute in his brain and he interrupted his pilot mid sentence, “Can your bag give something that can be used like a splint. Er, for example, a tennis racket or a snowboard or something with a strong rigid back? And some rope and thick clothes?”

Travis thought about it, then said “Yeah, I suppose it could. But—”

“Great!”

“Why do you need a splint?” Travis swung the backpack in front of him and dig through the sack. Will swore he heard what sounds like the clitter clatter of glasses, metals, and other objects even though the bag itself seem empty. Then in quick succession, Travis pulled out two tennis rackets, a thin towel, and several jump ropes.

“Well, typically, when you drop a person 50 feet from the ground they don’t leave out walking fine,” Will said, sarcasm laced in his voice. He grabbed the items and slowly lower himself to the ground.

Travis was silent for a moment and a very quiet “Oh” came from him.

Will narrowed his eyes at the prankster’s unusual response. Usually, Travis never let him have the last word. It’s in his nature to have the last biting remark. “Normally, you have a more stinging, hurtful remark. Did the monster hit your head or something?”

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Travis said, completely ignoring what he said. Suspicious, Will looked up from where he sat, a retort ready to fly from his mouth when he saw there was a look of— Wait, is that guilt? Oh my Holy Father, it is guilt —on Travis’s elvish features.

Shit, Travis saved my life and I repay him by making him feel bad. Great job, Will. Real kind of you.

“I, er, no. Just the ankle. Forget what I said before. I need your help tying the splint on—”

But something is shoved into his face. A piece of Ambrosia, he realized.

“I don’t think it’s enough, but it’s all I have.”

Will took it gingerly, saying a careful thank you. It’s definitely not enough, but it’s more than nothing. Guilt burned in him. He shouldn’t have been so snarky. He bit it, looking up at Travis who looks at the setting sun.

“Can you still help me tie the splint?” he asked

“Yeah, sure,  but you’re gonna have to walk me through it,” Travis said. He knelt awkwardly beside Will’s injured ankle. His hands twindled with his backpack’s straps.

“Slide the towel underneath my ankle and calf and cover my ankle with the towel. Great, good job. Now just place the racket on either side of my leg. Uh huh, just like that. And tie the rope over both the rackets securely in several places—ah! Can you be more gentle? And don’t tie it over the joints,” Will instructed, wincing when Travis jostled the swollen joint too much.

“Sorry, sorry,” Travis mumbled, cheeks flushing, “I never tied a splint before.”

“Really? I thought when I taught each cabin about basic first aid I covered splinting. I think I may have made each camper practice once or twice,”

“You did. It was the most fun the kids have in a while but I wasn’t there. Caleb grew nauseous because of the pictures you show about lacerations and abrasions and I had to take him to the restroom. He threw up on my shoes before he could reach the toilet. They skunk for a week. Anyway, I miss that part of your lecture. Come to think of it. I always miss your lectures every year. There’s always a kid who needs to throw up.”

Great, once again it’s my fault. Maybe I should cool it with the pictures.

Travis tied the final knot and lean back. He looked expectantly at Will, clearly asking for an evaluation. Will glanced down. “Good job. You did great.” The words came out a bit forced.

Will wasn’t one for lying but it was needed in this case. And truthfully, Kaela, his newly claimed 12 year old half sister, could do a better job.

Travis’s eyes creased. “You’re lying.”

No duh, I’m pretty sure a three year old could tell I was lying. That’s how bad I am. Will raised his eyebrows and chuckled, “And how would you know?”

Travis said in a flat tone, “I can sense when someone is lying.”

“Well, er, um, you did do a good job considering it’s your first attempt,” Will stated, unsure of how to answer and hoping he sounded more reassuring than awkward.

But Travis shook his head and said, “I’m sorry about your ankle. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Will chuckles nervously, the uncharacteristic earnestness and guilt- laced face isn’t something he’s used to seeing. It’s not something he even wants to see. “It’s fine. Forget about it.”

For a while they sat in silence, Travis staring at Will’s wrapped ankle and Will staring at Travis’s serious face. Will desperately think of something kind and relieving to say that would alleviate the prankster’s guilt.

The fading daylight from the already setted sun casted a shadow over Travis’s elvish features. The sight of a non-grinning Stoll was rare. In fact, the only time Will could ever recall Travis without his usual trademark smirk was when Connor was in the infirmary after a particularly hard hit from Sherman Yang during a sparring session.

Will opened his mouth, intending to apologize again for his earlier comments when Travis abruptly stood up and dug through his backpack. He pulled a long cylindrical, cloth-covered object out and laid it on the ground. When he pulled the cloth back, Will recognize it as a tent.  

“A tent is a sports equipment?”

“I think hiking could be considered a sport. It doesn’t have be competition related. I don’t know how it works. Ask my dad if you want answers.”

Will watched Travis assemble the tent in a matter of seconds. His hands reaching for the parts without looking and setting it into place. And in less than 2 minutes, there was a gray, rather dreary looking but durable tent before him.

“Do you camp often? You seem experienced in setting it up.”

“Sometimes. Me and Connor would camp out in the forest.”

“Why?”

“Just ‘cause. Do you need help getting inside?” Travis asked.

“No. I think I’ll be fine. You probably wouldn’t be able to support my weight anyway,” Please, Travis, take the bait. Go back to normal. “You know, cause you’re not strong enough.”

“Alright.” Travis headed inside.

Will have the urge to slam his head into the nearest tree, several times to be exact. Maybe adding a concussion to his already splitting headache is enough to put him out of his misery.

He already screwed up enough today.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Talking

Warnings: Child abuse

Travis turned on the portable electric lamp by the tent's entrance. He casted a look back, making sure Will really doesn't need his help before he zipped open the door flap and went inside.

Will scooted himself towards the tent, grimacing over each little bump that jostle his splint. But before Will went inside, he looked back at the forest, nightfall fast approaching. The once open, inviting forest now dark, menacing.

Starlight and Lollipop are still out there. Starlight is hurt and Lollipop may be too.

Travis poked his head out. "Hey, Will? You okay out there?"

"Yeah, um. I was just thinking about stuff. Have you seen Starlight or Lollypop?"

Travis said, "No, but it's too late now to search. We'll look in the morning."

Will sighed and gently drag himself into the tent and nearly choked on his spit when he saw that it was ladled with packs upon packs of canned food, wrapped snacks, and bottled water. Will didn't really thought much about his thirst until now, when he saw at least a dozen pack of water bottles stacked in the corner. There were even sleeping bags!

"Woah, your backpack can give stuff like this?" There's no question, Travis's bag surpasses Leo's a thousand time over.

His lips curved into a shadow of what was his usual lively smirk, "No, but it can store whatever you left inside of it. Turns out the magic bag can also make magic items. Thirsty?"

"You have no idea."

Travis tossed a bottle to Will which he greedily tear open and drained.

Will sighed in relief, then upon closer inspection of the bottle said, "Fiji water?"

"Connor likes how it tastes," Travis said, back turned to Will. Travis was sifting around the stacks of canned food. From below his arms, Will could see some canned tuna, canned salmon, granola bars, and other assortments of non-perishable food.

"So all of this non-perishable food and bottled water came from when you and Connor went camping?"

"Yeah."

Will narrowed his eyes. This was enough food to last several months. They seem oddly prepared to live in the wild. That seems rather suspicious.

Travis crawled on top of a sleeping bag, in his hands an assortment of goodies from the pile. "You can use Connor's sleeping bag."

Will scooted himself over to the cloth and cautiously crawled over it. "It isn't stuffed with whipped cream is it?"

"No," was the quick simple answer.

"Oh, okay."

The silence that followed could only be described as awkward. Travis seemed fixated on his running shoes, Will noticed. He traced a pattern on the ground, frowning.

If the situation wasn't so awkward, Will could almost find his expression cute.

This is all my fault. I can't do anything right.

Unnerved by the silence—because there has never been a time of silence with Travis, never ever—Will said, "Look, Travis, I—"

"Oh, sorry. My bad, I should have said something. Are you hungry? We got chips ahoy, Oreos, fruit roll tops, pop-tarts. But if you're into more healthier snacks there's um, fiber one granola bars, er, Sahale's almonds, uh, let's see, oven baked chips, wait, nope, those are just the wrappers."

"It's okay. I'll just take some of the almonds. I wanted to apologize—what are you doing?"

"What?" Will crinkle his nose when he saw Travis took the packet of pop-tarts.

"Do you know how many sugar and chemicals are infused in that piece of garbage?"

"No?"

"Pop-tarts are just sugar ladled trash. There's 18 grams of sugar in one serving. That's already 73% of the recommended sugar intake of 25 grams a day. And there's trans-fat in it. Trans-fat is what clogs up your arteries and leads to an increased risk of heart disease. There is not a single thing nutritious about it."

"But they taste like heaven…" and Travis makes the saddest puppy eyes Will ever seen. Doesn't matter. Junk is still junk.

"They're nothing but highly processed junk."

"...Meanie." But the pop tart was dropped for chips, which were definitely not much better.

They ate in silence.

Will for the life of him could not come up with what to say and Travis isn't going to talk for them like he usually would.

Will wished he could slap himself for what he said. "Look, Travis, about what I said earlier. Just forget it. I'm alive. With no broken bones or anything. Everything turned out fine so, um, there's no need to feel bad," Will uttered.

Travis was silent for a long moment, his distress and regret evident. "No. You were right I should have been more thoughtful. Chiron always reprimanded me on my recklessness. I'm sorry you got hurt. I thought the trees would have broken your fall."

"But you were right! I'm not much of a fighter. I can't even shoot an arrow straight even though my dad is the God of Archery. I would have been more of a liability than a help if we would have fought together. And, if it makes you feel any better I'm a fast healer. All of Apollo's kids are. It'll be healed within a week. Don't worry."

Travis was quiet for a minute. His eyes boring into Will's, searching for lies and false words. And Will match his gaze. Please believe me, Travis. Don't feel bad anymore…His eyes are a nice color, a nice light blue like San Diego's beaches.

Then Travis finally grinned. "I'll make it up to you, 1 month of no pranks from my cabin to yours and limitless access to Connor's baggie. Fritos, Cheetos, Doritos, anything you want. Name it and I'll get you it."

The tightness in his chest dissipated when Travis smiled and Will let out a sigh of relief. It felt strange to have a broody Stoll brother. Normally they're so happy-going and smiley, it's strange to see them in any other mood.

"Don't you need to ask your twin first before you just hand out whatever?" Will asked.

Travis frown and Will internally groan at the thought he said something wrong again. "Twin? What twin?"

"Isn't Connor your twin brother?"

"No, he's my baby brother. I'm older by 11 months."

"No way, you're not twins? You and Connor are really full brothers? Like same mom and everything?"

Travis slugged Will in the arm playfully with a crooked smile, "You knew us for almost six years and you're now figuring this out? Dude, you are not an observant doctor are you?"

Will could feel his face becoming red. He did know the brothers for a long time. He even went through their medical records when he was resorting the camp's records. How could he not look at their date of birth? "W-well, how am I supposed to know? You and Connor are identical—" Will stammered, excuses coming to him just as well as he can lie.

Travis leaned forward, his smile growing more twisted. "I'm taller" then almost as an afterthought, "And better looking," Better-looking? You're identical to your brother in every way.

"W-well Hermes isn't exactly known for going back to the same woman twice—" Did I seriously use that as an excuse? No gods are known for that!

"No gods are known for that," Travis said, his smile taking on a sadistic side.

"Well, um, Zeus and Hades did!"

"Yeah, but Zeus came back in two different forms and Hades isn't known to be so playboy-ish like his brothers and nephews are."

You have a retort for everything, don't you?

"I-uh-um. He must really like your mom a lot then," Will stated.

Travis shrugged. "Not really."

"He doesn't? But he—"

"It's a long story. All you need to know is that dad didn't like my mom and mom didn't like dad."

Will shut his mouth. He understands year-rounders' relationship with their family is usually never in good standing according to what he knows about Lee's and Michael's past—and it isn't much, just that Michael was abandoned by his mother and Lee's mom was ripped apart by a hellhound.

There was a moment of silence where all one could hear was the crunching of almonds and pop-tarts. Then an evil smirk graced Travis's face. "So, rumors said that you and Nico are a thing. Care to clarify?"

Will spluttered. "What? Whose saying that? We're just friends!"

"But you want to be more than friends."

"I guess so but Nico doesn't seem to want to."

"If you do want to become a thing, me and my brother would be more than glad to help you. Normally, we would require some sort of payment but in your case, I'll make this a special exception." Travis had this giddy expression on his face that frighten Will. A Stoll with a plan is never a good combination to have.

"I don't know...will anyone get hurt? Emotionally and physically?"

"Er, maybe a little?"

Will, against his better judgment, asked, "What's your plan?"

The grin split even further. Any further and it will match the Cheshire's. "Nico likes you. A lot. And Nico dislikes me. Like a lot."

"Why?"

"Long story and even longer theories and an even longer list of pranks, I'll tell you another time. Anyway, Nico just dislikes me. So if we were to date, Nico would be so jealous and angry that the person he loves is going out with the person he hates, he's bound to do something drastic to declare his love for you!"

"That's stupid."

"No, it's genius! Trust me. When it comes to me and my brother, he tends to be frank and cruel to us, so he's bound to confront and tell you to stop dating 'someone like the likes of me'! And that's when you declare your never-ending love for him!"

"That's not going to happen. That isn't who Nico is and plus I'll date Drew before I'll ever date you."

Travis snorted, leaning back to rest on the sleeping bag. "You know, I have to wander through hell for four hours because you weren't where I dropped you. What were you doing?"

"Looking for the pegasi."

Travis opened his eyes and sat up, the lax pretense all gone. "Did you find them?"

Will shook his head and Travis leaned back down.

"Do you have any drachma? Maybe we can Iris Message Camp to come pick us up."

Travis smirked. "You should know that as a son of the God of Thieves, I always—" Travis felt his pockets. "Ah, no. Sorry, I don't have any drachmas on me. It doesn't matter. We can walk to Camp Jupiter."

Travis dug into his sleeping bag, pulling out a deck of cards and shuffling them.

Will narrowed his eyes. "Walk to Camp Jupiter? But we can't possibly be that close to — where are we?"

"Somewhere in Northern California. Approximately 400 miles from San Francisco. As a child of Hermes, I have great directional sense. I am literally the best person to take on a road trip. Trust me, we'll never get lost."

He read this somewhere. When pegasi enter superspeed, they can travel up to 600 miles a second. He's surprised they're not dead.

Will watched Travis' leg bounce as he played with his cards, shuffling them quickly. He wonders if Travis is ever still...no. Probably never.

Travis shot up from the sleeping bag with a half smile. "Let's get to know each other. You're not a yearrounder, right? Where do you go to school?"

He blinked in surprise at the random question. "Um, Hodgkins Private School. But I'm thinking of becoming a yearrounder."

"Really? You're gonna love it then."

"You're a yearrounder?" When Travis nodded, Will wrinkled his nose. 9 more months with him and his brother? That doesn't seem fun. "What do you guys do as yearrounder?"

"Lots of things. Each of us has to teach a class. Annabeth taught us Mythology. Chiron taught us the core subjects. Clarisse taught physical education and I and Connor taught a language. Lee used to be our music teacher and Michael taught archery."

Will clenched his fists at the mention of his deceased half-brothers. Memories he doesn't want to remember drenched up and he tries hard to push them down. "Don't talk about them. Talk about something else."

Travis picked up on the cue fast enough and muttered a quiet sorry. "Let's play a card game instead. What do you want to play? I know Old maid. Speed. Poor man, rich man. Egyptian war. Lil' Squirt. Napkins. Coffee."

Will wrinkled his nose in disdain. "How about us going to sleep. I'm tired."

"You're so boring."

Will got into the sleeping bag, zipped it up, and closed his eyes. "Good night."

"But I'm not sleepy! Wait. Don't leave me. Don't go to sleep yet. Argh, you are seriously the most boringest person I have ever met. Hey, wake up. You still awake, aren't you? Nobody can fell asleep that fast. Hey. Hey! Will, wake up. Come on, grandpa. It's not even that late. Fine. I'll play Solitaire. You're missing out on so much fun …

Hey, you still there? …

Are you really asleep? Dude, you are so boring. …

Don't you think it's weird? The chimera attacked us. It skipped Lollypop and went straight for us. That's weird, isn't it? Eh, maybe I'm thinking too much …

Will? …

I'm really sorry about your ankle. I won't let it happen again."

And Will drifted off to sleep.

When Will opened his eyes, he's in an elegant, enormous room with 12 extremely oversized chairs towering him. The chairs are as distinct as the cabins back home. Some glowed like the sun. Others are adorned with clothing or weaponry. And others seem to shimmer and move.

"Woah," Will gasped, taking in the sights. The last time he was here, the building was in shambles. Nothing but rubble. He's amazed at what Annabeth had accomplished. Her architect skills are nothing to dismiss. She should definitely become an architect. She has the knack for it. Then again she's perfect at everything she does.

"Father! Father, please listen to me," wailed a familiar voice and Will looked to see Apollo and Zeus rounding a corner and walking towards him.

Will immediately stepped back, his head bowed in respect. "Uh, hi, um, I didn't know how—" But the two gods walked right past Will without a glance at his direction.

Zeus went to his chair and sat down with a big sigh. His head rested on his hands, slowly massaging his temple like he has a headache. Will wondered if it would be appropriate of him if he were to offer the King of Gods aspirin or Tylenol.

Apollo stopped before Zeus, his characteristic blinding smile gone, replaced with urgency. "What you are doing is foolish, Father!"

"Foolish? He must be taught a lesson!" Zeus bellowed.

"Yes! I agree," Apollo said, "He must be taught a lesson, but not this way!"

"Are you questioning my methods, Apollo? How dare you!"

"No! No, no, no. It just that the children did nothing wrong! Punishing them isn't really teaching him. There has to be some other way," Apollo said.

Zeus growled, low, gravely. "Their fates had been altered too much. Both must perish."

"But—"

"SILENCE!" Zeus ordered, a bolt of lightning struck down a hair length away from Apollo, the ground blackened and smoking. Apollo bowed his head in defeat.

"There will be no more discussion! You are not to interfere. And neither is Hermes or any other gods for that matter. If you dare to disobey, all of you will join Dionysus for the two hundred year punishment."

"...Yes, father," Apollo said, disappearing in a flash of bright, blinding yellow.

When the light was gone, Will was no longer in the throne room. Instead, he's in a kitchen. Pots and pans hang from the wall, a row of pottery plants hanging overhead. The kitchen top was a nice, black marble. Sunlight trickled in through the blinds, giving the entire room a cozy glow.

Well-kempt. Not a hair out of place.

Except for the baby sitting on the floor, babbling happily and clapping his hands together.

"Hey." Will frowned, bending to the baby's level. "Why are you by yourself?"

The baby giggled, pale blue eyes staring with glee at Will. He bounced in place and continued to clap his hands.

"Aw, aren't you a cute little fellow? But where's your mommy and daddy?" The baby squealed and held out its little arms. Will could feel his heart melt. "You are so adorable, ahh!"

The baby tumbled onto it's back, Will screaming in response. He shot forward and tried to catch the child before he hits his head. But his hands went straight through the baby.

Shocked, Will leaned back. "What the heck?"

The click of a door opening caught his attention. The click-clack of heels resounded in the hallway to Will's right. A woman's voice, sharp and grating, spoke from the hallway.

"Yeah, I drop it off at the orphanage. This time I gave it to the woman rather than just leaving it at the door. He wouldn't dare teleport it in front of mortals. So what do you want for dinner, Scott? I can make spaghetti—"

The woman turned the corner and paused when she saw Will. Her face grew ashy.

Will leaped up, stammering, "O-oh! Hi! My name is Will. This isn't what it looks like! I'm not a robber. I didn't break in, I just uh pop in here. By magic. Um…."

Dressed in a formal gray suit, the woman's jaw flapped open and shut. The phone fell from her hands.

Then her face became livid. "What are you doing here!"

"I—uh, I didn't mean too! Um, I seriously had no idea how—" Will stammered.

The woman marched up to him and Will cowered. But she stormed right past him and to the baby still cooing happily on the ground.

"Hey, what are you doing? Hey!"

The woman grabbed the baby, not in a gentle way, and dropped him — she actually dropped him. Will is going to go ballistic. That's not how you treat an infant. — on top of the table.

She stomped back and forth in the kitchen, hands buried in her hazel hair. She lets out ghastly screams of frustration.

"You bastard! How many times have I told you I don't fucking want him! What must I do for you to get that!" She screamed at the ceiling. The baby babbled and rolled onto its back. The woman turned her livid eyes to the child on the table. "Shut up! This is all your fault!"

The baby gurgled and looked at the woman with wide, innocent, sea-blue eyes, "Mama," laughing as it sucks on its fingers. The woman, obviously the mother although she certainly doesn't act like it, glowered.

"Answer me! God damn it." Her voice cracked and the distressed woman collapsed into a heap on the ground. Through her shaking shoulders and mumblings, Will heard the words that sent a chill down his back, "You have five seconds to answer me or so help me, I'll kill that piece of shit. I swear I will. Five."

Panic-stricken, Will leaped in front of the child. "Woah, woah, woah. That's no way to talk to a baby!"

"Four." She pulled herself upright.

"I don't know what your problem is but maybe we can talk it out," Will stammered.

"Three." She pulled a butcher knife from the drawers, the long, sharp, metal glinting underneath the lights.

"Maybe over a cup of coffee or tea! You look like a tea-lady," Will said shakily.

"Two." Her stormy blue eyes turned to Will's.

"You gotta be joking, right? This is a joke." Will laughed weakly.

"One." She's walking toward him.

"You are definitely the worst mom of the century!"

He tried to stop her but she walked right through him. Will's whole body shimmered before coming together in one solid form. It dawned on him then. He's nothing but an apparition. He's dreaming. He's not really there. He's just an onlooker. It's just a memory.

Will looked back in desperation. She stood before the baby, big blue eyes looking innocently at the woman before him, unbeknownst to the danger he's in.

Knife poised above her head, there wasn't a hint of sympathy or fear or regret or anything humane in her gaze.

"No, no, no! Stop," Will wailed, hands reaching out to pull the knife away but never grasping hold. Her hand swung down—

Ding-dong.

The woman paused.

Ding-dong. Ding-dong.

Then she scowled.

She put the knife down on the counter and sauntered to the door. "Took you long enough. I shouldn't have to resort to threatening the creature for you to come out."

"I would be watching your language if I were you. I'm a god and you shouldn't be treating your son that way," scolded a voice, strangely familiar yet not familiar enough for Will to pinpoint who.

A door slammed shut. Two pairs of feet echoed on the tile.

"Well, excuse me! How about you blast me with your godly powers and just end my life now? You already did it once when you gave me that bastard of a son!" The woman screeched. Will caught glimpses of her and whoever she was talking to as they cut a corner and head down a hallway not in Will's line of vision.

"Hey, you need to stop with the disrespectful names now. He's your son and you need to start treating him like it." The voices became muffled when they entered a room and the door slammed shut.

Will watched and listened but when it became evident they're just going to argue in their room, — leaving a baby 3 feet off the ground who can clearly crawl alone — Will let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding in.

"Oh my gods, what just happen?"

His stomach lurched and he leaned over the table. The baby gurgled and Will looked down.

Soft, blue eyes looked back like they can see him, like they know he's there.

"You can't see me, can you?" The baby giggled in response.

"I can't believe your mom almost did that." Clap, clap, clap went tiny hands.

"Are they seriously leaving you alone?" The baby babbled.

"I wish I can help you."

"Ahh…?" The baby said, head lolling to one side.

"No, I'll definitely help you."

"Ohhh..." The baby started to suck on its fingers.

"I promise after I get back home, I'll come looking for you. I'll go to Rachel, get some details, and come rescue you. Maybe Nico could come along," Will said, voice trailing off. Is Nico good with children? Will thinks so. Maybe he's just uncomfortable with older kids.

Will stared absentmindedly at the child sucking its fingers. When will this dream end? I don't think I ever had one as long as this.

"Maybe I should go check out what your parents are doing." But Will's feet refused to cooperate and move. "Or maybe I can stay here with you."

The baby giggled again, lips curving into what Will can see is a crooked smile. His eyes — bright blue like the sea — sparkled as he bounced up and down for no reason.

"You're so energetic. It's adorable," Will laughed. Rolling onto its side, he looked straight at Will, sea-colored eyes boring into his.

Then he started crawling.

"No! You can't move! No, bad boy! Stay!" But Will only watched with horror as the baby crawled closer and closer to the edge of the table. He's going to fall. He's going to fall! HE'S GOING TO FALL!

Then at the last possible moment, the baby turned and crawled along the edge of the glass table. Will wanted to scream. It's like this kid is messing with him!

He's still far too close to the edge for comfort and even though Will knew it's pointless, he still held a hand underneath the table. Just in case.

The kid did a full circle along the table, giving so many false indications he was about to fall. Will doesn't think his heart can take any more of this. To rub salt into the wound, the kid crawled back to exactly where he was dropped.

Exactly.

And he looked up to Will like he knew the billion near heart attacks he gave Will. Like he's doing this on purpose and everything is intentional. Just to irritate him. It's almost felt like Travis was possessing the kid. Nobody except for him taunts him like that, over and over again.

The kid giggled and looked at him with eyes that sparkle in a familiar glow.

The breath caught in Will's throat. His mouth felt dry and he took a step back. The blue eyes still bored into him, following his every movement.

"H— hey, this is too much of a coincidence. There's no way you can be… " The words lodged themselves in his gullet.

"You can't be him."

The baby tee-heed and Will saw him then. The mischievous touch in those eyes and that laugh. There's no doubt. That's definitely him. It's him. There's no one it could be.

And Will opened his mouth. "T—"

Will was jolted awake by a scream. Loud, piercing, disconcerting. Disoriented, Will stumbled to his feet, knocking his uninjured leg into the splint he had forgotten about. "What? What's happening?"

There was another wail. Louder, more terrified than the one before it. Will looked around. Travis was not in the tent. His sleeping bag lay askew on the ground. Cold dread fills him. At the third scream, Will was already stumbling out of the tent.

"Travis!"

Chapter Text

“Travis? Travis!” Will stumbled out of the tent.

“Travis, where are you?” He prodded around, eyes shooting to all sides. The ghastly wailings and screams are gone but it still echoed in his mind as he looked left, right, up, and down but there was no sign of Travis.

The worst case scenarios played through Will’s mind. The monster regenerated and found them. He’s chewing Travis apart right now. Any second now he’s going to turn and find a bloody pile of jagged bones and severed flesh.

Then he heard it.

A snicker.

Coming from behind him.

Disbelief filled Will— cause there’s no way he would ever be that immature. No way, no way, no way —but it quickly grew into anger, rage, fury as he limped back over to the tent. Behind it was no other than Travis Stoll, bent over with both hands over his mouth, sniggering like a two-year-old.

“You—you—you BASTARD!” Will screamed, blood rushing to his ears.

Travis dropped his hands and burst into a laugh. “Ahahahah! You fell for it! Oh, my gods, your face was so priceless!”

“What the heck is wrong with you! I, I, I was really scared!” Will yelled, throwing the can of tuna he had grabbed on his hurry out. “I thought you were in trouble!”

Travis did not flinch and smacked the can away.

He stood up, still laughing. “I know! I wish Connor was here to see this with me! Your face was so red, it’s like a tomato. Kind of how Nico was when he saw that arrow of love!”

“I can’t believe you!” Will bellowed, a hand burying in his hair.

Travis grinned, entirely unbothered, and it grated on his nerves so damn much. How could anyone be so malicious? So cruel? How can —

“Wow, you’re pretty upset. You never got this mad. Had a bad dream?” Travis sniggered.

And Will snapped.

“I’ve been dealing with your obnoxious pranks since day one, but this is by far the worse. You think everything is a joke! Everything is so funny! Hahaha! But you never think about the other people! How did you think I feel when I heard that scream? ” Will shouted, voice trembling. “I-I-I thought you were dying, Travis. I thought you...”

But his words trailed off when wide blue eyes bored into his and he’s back in the kitchen, face to face with a toddler, peering at him with those same wide, sea eyes. The toddler tilted his head and reached forward with pudgy hands—then he blinked and he’s back in the forest.

What was that?

Travis blinked several times, his face completely blank. “Okay, okay. Sorry, didn’t mean to make you upset or anything.”

His mouth twitched upwards and he shrugged his shoulders, “But you have to admit. It was funny.”

Will squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

“Let’s just go find the pegasi,” he said and walked away, head low.

“Can you wait for me to pack up the tent?”

“No.”

His head pounded in time with his heart and Will wished for Advil, or some kind of medicine to stop that jackhammer in the back of his head.

Damn that Stoll. What was his problem? I never bothered him. Why is he doing this? Because he hates you . You’re useless. You’ve done nothing to help and you’re slowing him down.

Shut up, Will told himself and continued limping forward, dragging the crudely made splint through the dirt and twigs. He cursed as it snagged on the shrubs.

I’m the innocent one. I’m not the one to blame. Travis shouldn’t have played such an awful prank. Not after he was nearly killed by a chimera. Gods, does he have no tact? No compassion?

No— oh crap, I have no idea where Starlight and Lollypop is.

Will groaned and kicked the dirt with his good foot. What should he do? Go looking for them by himself? He was walking away from the setting sun yesterday so today he walks towards the rising sun. That’s how it works right? Wait, was he walking towards the sun yesterday? What if he’s wrong? Should he take the chance? It's a 50-50 chance… no. I can’t. Starlight’s hurt. I can’t waste time. Travis’s basically a walking GPS. I’ll find them faster if I'm with him.

Will walked back to the clearing, but paused when he saw it was empty.

No.

He must have taken a wrong turn. There’s no way anyone can pack up that fast. Will backtracked, retracing his steps. But he ended up in the same empty spot.

And to make matters even worse, he sees the can of tuna he had thrown.

He’s gone. He’s really gone. In the two minutes I was gone, he packed everything up and left. How is that even possible?

“Travis?” Will called, hoping he was nearby. No response and Will groaned. This whole day is turning out to be a nightmare.

Nightmare.

And he remembered his dream.

That child...was that really Travis? There’s a lot of babies with blue eyes and lots of energy. Tons. Just because one looks like, acts like him, doesn’t mean he is him.

But what if it is him? Maybe that’s why he’s a year rounder.

Or what if it was just a crazy dream I had? Yeah. That also could be it. Just a crazy dream induced by the stress of nearly dying.

Will was jolted out of his reverie when a bush rustled to his right.

“Travis?”

But nothing came out and Will concluded it was probably a rabbit. A mosquito buzzed near his face and Will swatted it away. He sat down, reaching forward and snagging the can of tuna.

Now that he’s thinking about it, he is pretty hungry. And tuna is packed with protein, so it’s not like junk food. Like Percy once said, “Food is food” right before gobbling down a sand-caked sandwich. Will grimaced as he pulled the lid back and took a sniff.

He bleched. Gods, does he hates seafood.

The bush rustled again and Will paused. Slowly, he leaned forward and undid the knots on his splint, taking the tennis rackets into his hands. Yeah, if a monster comes I’m sure the sight of a dude with two flimsy rackets will scare them off. At least it’s better than nothing.

Nothing came out but Will knows better than to stay in one place too long. Scents will linger. Monsters will come. And it’ll be like a huge party with him as the pig with the apple. He tested his ankle, pressing it softly against the ground, and sighed in relief as the pain felt nothing more than a sore.

Being a son of Apollo really does come with its benefits.

Now if he can only do something about the pounding in his head.

Will stood up, black dots filled his vision, and he was out before he felt the ground.

“I didn’t want to do this but you left me no choice. Man, you would think if someone was having a headache worthy of birthing Athena, they would take a nap.”

When Will opened his eyes, disoriented, he was no longer in the forest. In fact, he was nowhere. The entire world was encased in a realm of pure, snowy white. There was no ground, no sky. No darkness nor sun. Everything was white save for him and the dog.

Will stare at it for a good long minute. It had spoken earlier with a voice he’s very familiar with.

“Dad?”

“Yup, it’s me,” the dog said, its mane of golden fur sparkling.

“Why are you in that form?”

“There’s no time to chitchat. Hermes can only hide the connection for so long,” Apollo said seriously. It’s hard to take him seriously. The dog looks so fluffy. But Will tried anyway.

“What’s going on?”

“You’re in danger, Will. I tried to talk to you last night but Hermes mixed up the dreams. You have to understand,” Then Apollo paused, growled, and howled to the nothingness, “Holy Trident, Hermes, figure out the problem yourself. If you don’t know, then how would I know!”

“You’re going too fast! Slow down, let's start in the beginning. Why am I in—”

“There’s no time to slow down! Learn to catch up! Come on, let's go!”

And Will was standing in the kitchen again.

The mother, hair tied back in a messy bun, stood humming in the kitchen and whisking a bowl. There was a calm, almost content look on her face.

Besides Will, Apollo barked in frustration, “Wrong memory! Wrong memory, Hermes! Go further ahead!”

Will watched as a toddler came stumbling through the hallway, babbling nonsense, brown hair shaggy and unkempt. Behind him, a smaller child, on all fours, followed. They bounced around the room, ignored by the mother, and came to a stop at the foot of a bed where a golden retriever was resting peacefully. The wobbling toddler screeched in delight and patted the dog ( patted? more like punched ). The dog swatted the hand away and— is Will imagining it but did the dog just gave a look of fondness?

Then the scene shifted and Will was no longer in the house but rather outside, in the streets, cold and empty, snow falling down in sheets.

“Too far, Hermes! With the way you navigate these memories, it’s a wonder how you ever deliver your mail,” Apollo howled.

Three children stood on the asphalt. A girl and two boys. They were talking. Then the girl held out a hand, a smile on her lips, gray eyes gentle, her ponytail blowing in the wind.

The two boys shared a look before nodding and clasping their hands around hers. The words, “You’ll be safe, I promise,” muffled through the snow.

Then Will was back in nothingness again. Apollo paced back and forth, his whines sharp and ear-piercing. “Hermes! Wait, don’t go yet, we gotta warn—darn it. This is bad. I don’t know when I can talk with you again. Zeus has been watching us like Dionysus does to wine. Will, you need to know, she’s a crazy woman. Crazy, but smart. She has the Gods’ favor and they promised to help her, especially the spirits. You need to get away from—” Apollo paused, nose in the air and sniffing, “That’s imbecilic, little—”

And Will woke up with a splash.

Will jolted awake and headbutted the son of Hermes in the head. There was a shout of pain and more water splashed on Will, something plastic butting into his nose. Shaking water droplets from his face, Will spluttered, “Why did you pour water on me?”

Travis was off to the side, rubbing his head and pouting. “Because you won’t wake up. I got worried you fell and hit your head and got a concussion. Or something like that.”

“So you decided to wake me up by pouring water down my face?”

Travis blew a raspberry at him. What a child. “It works with Connor. What happened? You were just lying on the ground.”

Will coughed and stood up, using the tree as a support, “I was a having— you know what? This was revenge for your prank earlier.”

Travis grimaced. “Then at least make sure there are no monsters around ready to eat your face out. Being eaten when pulling a prank is not very fun.”

“What?”

Travis looked over his shoulder and Will finally notice the smell of rotting flesh, so putrid and utterly overwhelming he couldn’t understand how he missed it. He peered over Travis’s shoulders and paled.

“This is the third one I found,” Travis said as he stood up and patted his knees, swinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Beyond Travis, a hellhound lay in a pool of blood, an ice pick lodged a foot deep in its skull.

Will sat on the ground, watching Travis dig through his little baggie. He whooped in joy as he pulled a gym shirt. Will wrinkled his nose and pull his knees closer to him. Even 20 feet away he could smell the disgusting scent.

They sat side-by-side.

Travis hummed cheerfully, wiping the blood off.

“That was such a rush. I never had to kill a hellhound like that before. Man, their screeching almost made me feel bad.”

Will winced as he remembered the sickening squish as Travis dislodged his ice pick from the skull, bits and pieces of brain matter coming with it. It reminded him of that time Jake had glass in his arm and leg, a botched creation gone haywire.

“Why didn’t they turn into dust?”

Travis held up the ice pick to the sunlight, “Only celestial weapons do that. Regular weapons just make them bleed.”

“...you’re really good at fighting,” Will noted quietly as Travis placed the pick back inside the bag.

Travis paused as if waiting for more. When there was none, there was an exuberant, “Thanks!”

Will fidgeted with the ropes from the splint. Camp doesn’t teach you how to use anything other than a sword, a spear, a knife, or a bow. That’s it. The four main weapons. “Did you learned to fight like that before you came to camp?”

“Nope, never had the need to. My entire childhood was practically monster free save for a few harpies here and there.”

“Then where did you learn to fight like that?”

“We had a lot of time as year rounders. Michael,” there was a pause and the second name was stated hesitantly, “And Luke taught us how to fight with what we have.”

Luke? What about Luke…

Luke Castellan is a touchy subject in camp. There’s either two responses to that bastard traitor. One, he’s a hero. Or two, he’s the devil incarnate and should be burning in the pits of Tartarus for his crimes.

Will’s the latter.

But Will knows for certain Travis is the former.

Travis waited for him to say something but when it was evident Will wasn’t about to talk anytime soon, Travis sighed, “I’m sorry for my prank earlier. I didn’t mean to make you upset. It’s just that, well, you know me, no impulse control!”

“You didn’t do it because you were mad at me ignoring you last night?”

Travis tilted his head slightly. “No, I don’t hold grudges. I definitely don’t hold such petty ones like that. But Connor does so watch what you say to him. Clarisse had put Luke and trash in the same sentence once and Connor had the Hecate Cabin charm the toilets to sing opera whenever she’s near.”

“But why did you prank Sherman after he—Oh, that was Connor.”

After Sherman had accidentally given Connor a concussion, the boy had spent a week in the infirmary, bitten by a poisonous spider not native to New York. It had mysteriously disappeared, sending Athena Cabin into a frenzy. Will always thought it was Travis but he supposed it could have been Connor too. Now that he thinks about it, wasn’t Connor the one to give Phoebe the t-shirt stained with Centaur blood?

“Just don’t run off again if you get mad at me. Apollo knows what your siblings will do to me if I let you become monster chow. Come on, let’s get out of here,” said Travis, bouncing to his feet.

Will’s head shot up. “Wait, what about Lollypop and Starlight?”

Travis scratched the back of his head and looked off into the distance. “Do you really think they’re still alive? I mean, I’m a son of Hermes, you’re a son of Apollo. We’re some of the least attractive monster chow. And pegasi meat is like ambrosia to hellhounds. The fact that hellhounds are attacking us means a lot when there are two pegasi nearby—injured, bleeding, tied down.”

“All the more reasons to find them,” Will said, standing up. He was struck with a wave of dizziness and pain in the back of his head. For a second the forest disappeared, Travis disappeared, the sun is gone and he’s in a dark room, moonlight trickling through the window. In the center, a dog rolled a can of baby food to the infant clapping its small hands. The dog barked, struggling to open the jar with its paws. Then he’s back in the forest, with a son of Hermes shaking his shoulder in a not-so-gentle way.

“Hey, you okay?”

Will blinked. What happened? “Yeah, why?”

Travis’s eyebrow furrowed. “I said something and you didn’t answer. You kinda just stood there with this blank expression.”

Will shook his head, I’ll deal with this later. Pegasi first. “What did you say?”

“If we were to go back to camp first, we can have more people looking for them and plus your ankle can be treated.”

“My ankle is fine.” Will batted Travis’s hands away. “Besides wouldn’t it be too late? How long will it take to get back to Jupiter? A week by foot? It’s 500 miles away, right?”

“400 and I can hotwire a car once we reach the tourist part of the forest. It won’t take so long.”

“Why are you in such a rush to get back to Camp?” Will asked, cocking his head to the side. Travis stared off into the forest with a troubled expression, he’s hiding something, then he caught Will staring at him and turned away, a smile masking his worry.

“Alright, alright. We’ll go looking for them.”

There was a stupid smirk. “But we’re going my pace. You slow us down, I’m leaving you behind.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Alright, but let’s make a deal first. No pranks.”

“What, why?”

“Because I rather not mistaken a time when you’re in actual danger to you being stupid.”

“You’re no fun.”

Will learned something new about the son of Hermes in the few minutes they were walking.

A great fighter he may be, a stealthy person he is not.

Even if he puts his entire attention into avoiding twigs, tree roots, and the like, Travis still manages to make a ruckus. He trips on every object, existent and nonexistent, there is. Nothing escapes Travis’s two left feet.

“I thought Hermes was the God of Thieves. Why are you so bad at sneaking around?” Will teased.

Travis stuck out his tongue, “I’m great at sneaking around, in cities. Where there is actually places to sneak around in. It’s too open out here, too quiet. There’s no place to hide.”

Snap.

“Woah, that’s a branch. I didn’t—”

Thud.

“I didn’t see that rock, sorry.”

Scuffle, whoosh, thump.

“That shrub appeared out of nowhere. I swear it wasn’t there before.”

“Quiet! I hear something,” Will hissed.

Travis froze and mouthed, “Monster?”

Will nodded and Travis swung his bag around, pulling out his ice pick. “Hide,” he whispered and he was gone, leaving Will alone with the trees.

The leaves rustled almost like a goodbye.

Will never really thought much about his fighting prowess. So what if he couldn’t shoot an arrow or last in a sword fight for a minute. So what if he can’t really land a solid punch.

It doesn’t matter.

He’s a healer first and foremost. His main concern is making sure the wound is healed, not monster fighting. But as he crouched on the base of the tree, doing nothing but waiting and digging holes, he began to curse his lack of fighting skill.

As always, Will heard Travis first before he actually saw him.

Curses filled the air as Travis stumbled his way over to Will. He heard Travis complained, “Man, how can anyone ever like the forest?”

Will eyes latched onto the new bloodstains on the ice pick. “Are you hurt?”

“Hm? Oh, no, nope. Perfectly fine.” And he swung the ice pick onto his shoulders, striking a pose.

“See? No injuries!”

But Will could see the new cut on his arm. Shallow but still a wound.

“I’m sorry I’m not much help,” Will muttered under his breath.

Travis clapped him on the back. “You are helping, though. You have some of the best monster detection sense of anyone I know! Like, if you weren’t here I would already be dead. Some monster would probably ambush my butt and the Romans would be looking for the remains of my body. Have you ever notice how most monsters never fully eat the demigods except for cyclops? You would think the monsters would finish us all off but no, they leave the head, the arms, the hip—”

“You have a weird way to comfort someone.”

The next dream came an hour later. The pain struck Will and he was out.

When he woke up, he’s in the kitchen again. There’s the woman, by the kitchen top, a smile on face as she swayed back and forth, a bundle of cloth in her gauntly hands.

“You’re so beautiful,” she cooed softly. Through the folds, Will could see a tuft of blonde hair.

His world flickered and he’s watching the same woman sitting at a desk, focus intensely on the computer screen. The phone ranged and she flicked it opened. “What is your report? New York? I see. Thank you, Chester.”

Then he opened his eyes to Travis leaning over him, water bottle in hand.

They walked for 30 minutes before another headache struck Will. He stopped and clutched his head. Travis looked back and asked worriedly, “Are you going to faint?”

“No, I think it’s my dad trying to talk with me.”

Travis blinked. “So talk with him. Maybe he has something that could help us.”

“I did before but it doesn’t make any sense.”

“What does he say?”

“Well, he’s trying to show me something. Memories. They’re all about this—” Will blinked and he was back in the kitchen staring at the woman shine a kitchen knife with a warm smile on her face. She whispered to the knife, softly, gently, soon you’ll be used, soon you’ll fulfill your purpose . It’s a sure sign that a few screws are missing.

Then another blink and Will was back.

“Well, most are about this woman. Brown hair, blue eyes, have this high-pitched, grating voice. Is she...I mean do you know her?”

Travis paused. He toyed with the straps of his backpack. “We’re wasting time. Let’s go.”

Will quickly caught up with the trickster, not a very difficult feat considering he’s stumbling every other step. “So you do know her.”

Travis didn’t look him in eye. “Maybe, maybe not. I know lots of girls with brown hair and blue eyes. Miranda if she wears contacts, Hazel if she wears contacts too, Piper, Connor if he dresses up like a girl, myself, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“Shoot, where are they? I know they didn’t fall that far away.”

“Maybe you’re not a great a navigator as you thought.”

Travis gave him a look.

“And you’re a horrible healer. See how ridiculous that sounds?”

They were taking a break. Will rested his head on his knees as Travis talked about camp, hands moving animatedly.

He likes to ramble, Will noticed. Does Connor ramble? Maybe, I could use that to tell them apart.

“So as we all know Percy’s birthday is coming up. And seeing as how he has done so much for camp. We at Hermes Cabin decided to host a party for him! Surprise party so don’t go telling him. Chris is going to get the balloons, Cecil the confetti, Mary the cake. Oh man, it’s going to be so epic, I wish I could see it. Oh, I mean, yeah, I am going to see it. What I meant is that I have stable cleaning duty during that time. Yeah, that’s it. Anyway, Connor is at Camp Jupiter right now, you know for the camp exchange program thing. Can’t believe he has to go. There might be two of us but it takes two to run such a big cabin.  But he Iris-Messaged me a few days ago and told me how stuck-upped the Mercury kids were. They think they’re so much better than we Greeks. What a bunch of lunatics. At least we know how to have fun. All they know is how to count money and manage finances. Like, come on, we could do that no problem and more. Have you ever met Apollo’s Roman children? Do you like them? Wait, hold that thought. I got to tell you about this one kid Connor met. Oh man, she is totally sick.”

“Hey, Travis. Can I ask you a question?” Will interrupted.

Travis paused in his story, his face turning towards him with that tilt. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“It’s about your mom,” Will stated, watching Travis’s face intently. There was no change in expression. He still has that half-smile on his face when he rambles.

“What about her?”

“Is she alive?”

Travis shrugged, raising his hands. “No idea. I haven’t seen her in over 10 years. Year-rounder, remember?”

“But do you remember how she looks like?”

“Maybe, why do you want to know?”

“I had this dream last night. There were this baby and mom. She...I don’t know how to put it. She tried to commit infanticide?”

“And you believe the baby is me,” Travis said, rolling his eyes.

“Well, yeah. It looked a lot like you.”

“Come on, Will. Lots of babies look alike. Can you honestly tell two apart? I can’t. Which is why I’ll probably never work as a pediatric nurse. Well, that and because I probably won't have what it takes to finish college. You know, with my dyslexia and all. Speaking of dyslexia—”

“You didn’t answer the question. Was it you?” Will interrupted.

Travis rolled his eyes again. “No, it’s not me.”

Will narrowed his eyes. There was a tugging in his gut. “You’re lying.”

“And how do you know I’m lying?”

“Whenever you lie, you roll your eyes to the left. And also dad is the God of Truth.”

“And I’m the son of liars.”

“So were you that baby?”

“Yeah, and Connor was the mom.”

Will pestered Travis, asking the same questions over and over again. “Come on. Just tell me the truth. Were you that baby?  It’s just a simple yes or no.”

Travis rolled his eyes, walking faster. “You’re so nosy, Will.”

“That’s who I am.”

“If you ever want to date Nico, you need to stop. You’re gonna push him away with your pushiness.”

“He’ll get used to it. You got used to it.”

“Yeah, after I lived with your annoying butt for 6 years.”

Will prided himself on his instinctual skills. It always speaks its loudest in times of trouble. So when he glanced at the birds, and his gut panged, Will wasted no time pulling Travis behind a tree.

“Gah! What the Hades— ” Travis began before Will place a hand over his mouth.

“Shhh!” Will glared intensely at the trees overhead. “There. In the trees. Those birds.”

Travis stilled. “Are those…”

“Yeah, Stymphalian birds.”

Birds with razor-sharp feather with the ability to eject the feathers from their wings with the speed of a bullet. The year with Thanatos, those birds attacked Camp. Will still remembers that day. The injuries were horrendous, something beyond his skill to heal back then. It pained him to see his friends in tears and unable to help which is why he made sure to never be in that situation again.

“Here’s what we do. We just slowly turn around and crawl...Travis?”

Travis didn’t budge. He was still staring at the birds. “Their beaks. They’re made of celestial bronze, aren’t they?”

Will scowled at the implications of his words. “No, it’s not worth it, come on.”

“There’s three birds. Three celestial weapons. We need that.” Travis was still staring at the birds. He fell to his knees, digging through his backpack.

“Travis, no! If you get injured, I-I can’t heal you.”

“Why?” Travis looked up, his stare innocent and clueless.

“Because…because I’ll be drained and probably can’t walk for the rest of the day. We’ll have to stay here longer.”

Travis grinned. “No problem! I’ll carry you.”

“No, Travis. Come on. It’s not worth it.” Will tugged insistently at his shirt but he knows it’s futile. Travis’s mind was set.

“Any celestial bronze is worth it.” And he pulled out a slingshot with a couple of pebbles. If Will had any faith in Travis, it was shattered when he saw that.

Travis caught the disbelief on his face and smirked. “Don’t worry, Solace. I got this. Stay here and wait.”

And he left, the birds screeching immediately. Will could only listen to the fight from behind the tree. The screeching and whistling told him nothing. He wishes Travis would talk. Then at least he would have some idea of what’s happening.

Curiosity got the better of him and Will peered his head over the tree. Something flew past his head. When he looked back, he’s staring into the face of a stymphalian bird, a pebble embedded in its eye socket.

The last screeching brought Will to look back in time to see Travis shoot the last bird in the eye. He stood in the middle of their bodies, surrounded by feathers embedded in the dirt, some angled and some straight.

Okay, he hates to admit it, but with the way Travis’ back is facing him and that circle of feathers, it looks cool.

But then Travis hissed and he turned around a bit, just enough for Will to see that feather lodged three inches deep right in the middle of his thigh.

“Turns out I don’t got it. Ow, it hurts.”

Will blanched and scrambled out from his spot. Out of all the fucking days I left my medical pack behind .

“Travis, give me your bag.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Here you go, what do you—Holy shit, what are you doing!”

“Pulling it out,” Will stated, on his knees with a hand on the quill. By his feet lay gym towels and jump ropes.

Travis took a step back and stammered, “Isn’t that a bad thing? I mean, like, isn’t the feather keeping the blood in? If you take it out—”

“You don’t pull out objects embedded in body parts because there’s a hospital a phone call away. We don’t have that. What if the feather slices an artery?”

I’m sorry. I should have been more persuasive. I should have been more forceful. I should have argued better. If I had, you wouldn’t be here in this situation

“O-okay. That makes sense. Just tell me when you’re gonna—Ah! Holy mother of— Son of a— brother of— ow!”

Will took the gym towels into his hands— they smell like shit, are they even clean? — and pressed it forcibly on the wound, looping the rope around it and tying a knot.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Will asked, tying the knot tighter.

Travis huffed out in pain, “Michael and Luke. We used to have contests to see who can shoot down the cans the fastest and farthest.” Then he paused and as an afterthought, added smugly, “I beat Michael once.”

“Really? After how many tries?”

Travis scoffed, “After my 96th try. Have you ever beat Michael on anything shooting related? No, I don’t think so.”

Will tied the final knot, grimacing at his handiwork. Definitely not as good as he likes it to be. Should he heal it? Are that specks of blood he sees seeping through? Oh Hades, what if it is?

Travis tossed a beak to Will. “Here, you have one. I’ll keep the others. If any monsters come just jam it in anywhere.”

Will looked down at the beak in his hand. It was a small thing, literally the length of his palm. “Do you really think this was worth it? We’ll need to get in close to the monster to be able to prick their skin.”

“Not for me but for you, yeah. You’re better at fighting when they’re close, right? All you need to do is get a lucky strike in and you’re safe,” Travis said, smiling warmly at him.

“...Thank you, Travis.” Will looked away. He got hurt because of me. Why? I don’t get it.  

“No problem! Now come on, let's go find Lollypop and Starlight. We should be getting close.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Leucrotta

Will is 100% certain the fates are out to get them.

In as little as an hour, the monsters doubled in numbers. Every few minutes, tekehines would slither by, hellhounds would shadow-travel pass, and stymphalian birds would fly overhead, sometimes dropping their razor-sharp feathers.

In most cases, the monsters were far away enough they just have to be careful not to make a sound. In other cases, when Will didn’t hear the monsters or when Travis’s clumsiness hindered his hearing, it’s too late to sneak around. Will would have to resort to shoving Travis behind a tree and quickly followed suit.

Then they played the waiting game, a game Travis wasn’t particularly good at. His fingers would drum on the ground or on his backpack and Will would ask him to stop. Then after a couple of minutes, Travis would fidget with his pack of cards which Will confiscated. Then the humming. His humming had to be the worst. Will swears Travis’s ear weeping rendition of the Star Spangled Banner would be enough to raise Lee from the grave if he wasn’t living happily in Elysium.

Most times the monster would slither past them even with their snouts low and ears perked. It struck Will as odd. There’s no way the monsters are lacking that few in brain cells to not detect them. Their scents should be the strongest in the clean, nature air coupled with the fact Travis’s blood is saturating the air, they should stand out like a sore thumb. But who is he to complain? Less interaction, less bloodshed, less chance of one of them getting hurt (any more than they already are).

The monster would leave and Will would stand up. A strained grunt would make him glance down at Travis who struggled to stand. Guilt would pang in his chest. I shouldn’t have pushed him so hard. He looks to be in serious pain. Maybe I should heal it.

Then Travis would look up at him and notice the look on his face. He would smile reassuringly and say a dumb lie, “My leg fell asleep. Don’t you hate that feeling? I do. Connor thinks it’s funny to shake my leg around when that happens. He’s such a sadist.”

Then they would continue to walk and the cycle repeats itself.

Travis tried to hide the pain through his excessive talking, but Will could still hear the grunts in between each pause. It was like nails being pounded into his heart, sharp, stinging. After the fifth time Travis stopped to ‘admire the scenery and take in nature,’ Will blurted out, “Do you want me to heal it?”

Travis shook his head. “I’m fine, Will. It’s just a minor cut. It doesn’t even hurt!”

His leg accidentally bumped into the tree and Travis hissed in pain. At Will’s skeptical look, Travis stated defensively, “That was not what you think it was. I was… imitating a snake… for the play my cabin is hosting. I’m the snake. Connor’s the rattle. Together, we’re the rattlesnake!”

There was no need for his inbuilt lie detector to see that fib. “Well, let me check if it is still bleeding.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “It stopped a while ago. Don’t be such a mother hen.”

“I’m a medic. That’s my job. Now stop being a baby and let me check it.” When Travis shook his head, Will lunged forward.

Travis darted out of his reach, face contorted slightly in pain before he’s masking it by laughing. “Only if you can catch me!”

Travis bent his knees, body hunching forward—the universal running stance—and Will raised a hand in concern. “Don’t run! You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Travis ignored him, taking a running step forward that ended with a yelp. At Will’s knowing look, Travis blew a raspberry and fast walk out of his view. Will frowned, jogging to catch up. If he can outwalk me, maybe the wound isn’t that bad.

Travis was waiting for him by a tree, panting hard, when Will came up to him. With raised eyebrows, Will asked, “You’re fine, right?”

“Yeah, I’m just out of shape,” Travis gasped in between pants.

“Says the guy who ran 5 miles in 15 minutes last week,” muttered Will underneath his breath.

Camp holds a competition every year in August, an Olympics of sorts. There’s the classics: javelin throwing, shot ball, discus throwing. The not-so-classics: wall climbing, canoeing, plant manipulation. Then the ever so popular running events.

Will watched Travis single-handedly outran every demigod without a breaking a sweat. Even his half-siblings, who were more adept at athletics, were not even close to his speed. It was like a game to him. He would start fast but slow down as he near the finish line, letting the opponent pass him by a few meters before putting on an unbelievable burst of speed, bypassing the runner inches away from the finish line. Connor was the only one able to challenge his place for 1st.

Travis waved his hand dismissively. “That was last week.”

“Right.” Like your whole muscle mass can change in those few, short days.

They walked together in silence for a few moments. Will couldn’t help but noticed Travis was leaning more heavily on his good leg than before. As casually as he can, Will asked, “So your leg doesn’t hurt too much?”

“Will, for the last time, I’m fine. Stop worrying. I’m not like Nico. I’ll tell you if something’s wrong. Can we please talk about something else?” Travis pushed eagerly.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Will sighed. Whatever you want, Travis . “So, tell me about your mom.”

At those words, the prankster groaned, rolling his eyes back. “Oh my gods, not this again. How about we diss on Jason instead? Have you seen the inside of his cabin? I heard Annabeth is restructuring it for him because it’s so bad.”

“Come on, just tell me. I promise I’ll stop pestering you once you tell me everything. I’ll even stop hounding on your leg! Well, maybe not that. But I’ll definitely stop with the personal questions. ”

“Will you really?”

“Yes!” But at Travis’s skeptical look, Will refined his statement more hesitantly. “Granted, if there’s not a more serious problem I should know about.”

“Then I’m not telling you anything.”

Do you ever felt like you know you are wrong but you’re far too deep in the mess to admit it? Yeah, that’s how Will feels right about now. There’s no doubt in his mind Starlight and Lollypop are gone. Anyone with half a brain would realize this when they come across the first, second monster.

But not Will Solace, medical genius extraordinaire.

No, it takes a few more hellhounds, a few more birds, and a few more tekehines with blood-drenched snouts for him to consider the possibility that the pegasi might be dead.

We should have just went back to Camp Jupiter. Why did I insist on looking for them? If by some miracle we make it out of here alive, Butch is going to kill me. He’s going to skin alive and boil my body. Hang me from the pole of his rainbow color house. Curse me to never see the rainbow again. Make me scoop poop—

Someone was poking his shoulder.

Will turned around and Travis gave him a reassuring grin. “Hey, Will. Come on, don’t be so sad.”

Will shook his head and batted the finger away. “I’m not sad.”

“You are though. Do you want to see a magic trick? Everybody loves magic,” He took out his deck of cards and shuffled them quickly. Then his foot caught a tree root and the cards went tumbling to the ground. Travis bent to pick them up but continued talking, “Or do you want to hear a joke? Why don’t programmers like nature? It has too many bugs! Or how about this one, what is a pirate’s favorite letter? You might think it’s R but it’s actually C! Don’t you get it? Come on, that one always works. ‘C’? Do I ‘C’ a smile?”

Will rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. “Do you know why giving blood is so exhausting? It’s such a draining procedure.”

Travis broke into a full-on smirk, crooked and all. “Have you ever heard of the German sausage? I heard it was the wurst.”

“Ever try eating a clock? It’s very time-consuming.”

“Do you know why it’s hard to tell kleptomaniacs jokes? They take things literally.”

“...What...what do you call a foot that. No, um, what do you call a bagel that can fly? A plain bagel.”

Admittedly, Travis was better at telling jokes then he was. Not that it really matters. It wasn’t like a competition or anything (But darn it, Will was running out of jokes and Travis wasn’t. And there’s no way he’s ending with nothing).

They came to the first body a little bit before three.

The falling chariot had clipped the top of the trees, leaving a trail of broken branches and leaves. Will followed the trail with his eyes to the wreckage ahead where he could see the chariot in all its bent, metal glory. A hoof was sticking out behind the chariot.

Unmoving, still.

A stench, worse than anything Will ever had experienced, is wafting from that wreckage. It was like a mixture of rotten eggs marinated with Aphrodite Cabin’s most questionable perfumes, slow cooked in a crockpot, and left to boil under the desert sun.

“Do you want me to go check?” Travis asked, shooting a side glance at Will.

Will shook his head. “No, I want to see for myself.”

He took several steps forward with Travis trailing behind him, walking around the broken branches and calling out hesitantly, “Starlight? Lollypop?”

Then he took another step until he could peer over the chariot.

Starlight’s gouged eyes stared back at him. The gaping holes in her face were swarming with maggots. Her stomach was torn open, pieces of intestines trailing out as if the monster didn’t have time to finish the meal. Her pelt was littered with scratch marks. Which doesn't makes sense. Why would monsters scratch a dead body without tearing it open—unless she was awake and struggling.

Travis peered over his shoulder and backed away, gagging.

A trail of blood—black, spotted—lead further into the forest. Will took a step toward the trail but stopped when Travis tugged the back end of his shirt. His face was slightly green. Why are you sick? You plunged an ice pick into a hellhound’s skull.

“I’ll go check out what’s ahead. You wait here.”

Will didn’t get a say as Travis left immediately.

Will watched for a few seconds where Travis went, contemplating whether he should go with him.

What’s the point? They’re both dead. I don’t need my father’s gift to see that.

He sat down and leaned back on the broken chariot. What was he going to tell Butch? Oh man, I’m sorry but I let two of your youngest be brutally eaten alive?

Yeah, that will go well. Will can already pictured his grave now. Him and Travis both. They are both goners.

Will cursed when his mind ached. Not now, Dad. But he’s back into that white nothingness. A voice rang out—statically, like a radio being tuned.

“Will, she’s here. Run. Don’t stay. Listen to me. Get up. And. Go. You can’t stay. Don’t—”

Then he’s back. Will sighed and rubbed his temple. Was there ever a time my head wasn’t trying to break itself open? I wonder if someone will come out.

“Hey, Will,” said Travis.

Will opened his eyes and looked to his right, expecting Travis to be there but there was nobody.

“Travis?” Will called out hesitantly. Nobody answered, save for the buzzing of flies from the carcass behind him. “I must be going crazy,”  Will muttered and he rested his head in the crook of his arm.

Then “Will.”

Will snapped his head up. There was no mistaking it. That was Travis’s voice. He shook his head and stood up—taking a step towards the forest. “Travis?” he called out again and again got nothing. He took a few more steps into the forest. The chariot left his view.

He called out Travis’ name repeatedly. Sometimes he answers. Sometimes he didn’t. Always was it deeper into the forest, like he’s running away from him or something. Which he shouldn’t be doing. Running will aggravate the wound and tear it open.

If that happens, Will is definitely tackling Travis to the ground and healing it. Complaints be damned.

“Travis? If this was like that prank from morning, I won’t forgive you,” Will warned. He rounded a tree and his face bumped into a snout.  The thing snorted into his face, hot air washing over Will as stared into a pair of red, gleaming eyes.

They stared at each other for a second. Just him and the deformed horse. It's teeth chattered, two white plates of bone slamming against each other. It took a step forward, hooves stamping the ground, and Will took two steps back. From its mouth came Travis’s voice, “Will.”

I am literally the dumbest medic to have ever—

“That’s a neat trick you have,” Will could hear him say, voice surprisingly calm, “I’m just going to go over there. Is that okay with you? Yeah? Great, see you then.”

And Will ran. The deformed horse—leucrotta, he remembered from those years of Greek monsterology class— neighed, it’s hooves clopping behind him as it gave chase.

With every step Will took, there’s a jolt of pain from his not-healed-yet ankle. It’s slowing him down. Will could hear the chattering grew closer and closer. Soon it will be on top of him, munching on his little demigod bones. Will dug the celestial beak from his pocket, holding it tight in his hand.

One stab. All he needs is one stab and the monster is dust.

Will rounded a tree— Can a leucrotta make sharp turns? I don’t think so —and collided with a body. A human body that hissed in pain as Will’s knee collided with something padded and slightly wet. Instinctively, Will took a step back, but a hand pulled him further behind the tree until he was pressing against a solid chest. The leucrotta rushed passed them.

The hand let him go and Will fall back stumbling. He looks up at the person who saved him. Of course, it was Travis. Who else could it be?

“Travis? You’re fine? There’s a—”

“I know. I know. It tried to trick me earlier. Smart, little monster. I kinda want it as a pet. Can you imagine all the pranks—”

“Now is not the time to be thinking of that!” exclaimed Will.

“Okay, okay. You’re such a sourpuss” Travis looked over his shoulder, wrapping and unwrapping the backpack strap around his hand in thought. Then he looked Will in the eye. “Give me your hands.”

“What?”

Travis reached down and took his hands in his and his palms were forced open. The flying shoes were placed into his open palm, the other palm occupied by the celestial beak. A pair of black feathers—Lollypop’s feathers, Will realizes—flapped lazily. Travis pushed his hands close and said, with his trademark smirk, “Only one carrier. Hold on tight.”

“What?”

Then Will was soaring.

He skyrocketed 5 feet, 10 feet, 15, 20, 25.  The shoes swerved dangerously, flinging him against the sides of the trees. Adrenaline was probably what kept his hands locked on the shoes as it rollercoaster its way through the air.

Pegasi feathers must not go together with the flying shoes because it doesn’t listen to a single word Will is screaming. It attempted to fly through a gap of trees that Will definitely cannot go through. He hit the trees with a solid thunk that knocked the already very little breath he has left out of his lungs.

Then the amazingly intelligent shoes backpedaled and stopped right between a pair of trees, right out of Will’s reach.

Travis, you…

From below, Travis shouted, “Don’t let go, Will! Falling hurts! Especially when you’re that high up! Think of moving towards the tree! The shoes will, or well, should follow your thoughts. Then can you throw a shoe down for me? I kinda don’t want—”

Why did you…

The chattering of bones made Travis pause. Will looked down in horror as the leucrotta came running towards them. Travis gave another encouraging, severely unneeded, “Don’t let go. I’ll, uh, I’ll be right back.” before running away.

Well, running wasn’t the right word. It was more of a mix between fast walking and limping.

No… No, no, no! Not again!

He struggled to move towards the tree, dangling 25 feet above open air.

Come on, shoes. Go left! Travis is...He’s in—

As Will expected, nothing happened.

“Come on, you dysfunctional piece of magic shoes, go left,” Will shouted between clenched teeth, rocking his body back and forth in an attempt to move. Again nothing happen, Will was still suspended in the air and if he doesn’t hurry, Travis is going to be…  Travis is going… well, if he isn’t already dead, Will will kill him himself.

‘Not Nico’ my ass. You’re both so dumb.

Hooves stomping the ground made him looked down. His heart stopped in those few moments it took for him to check if it’s snout was any sort of color besides brown. It wasn’t and Will let out a sigh of relief. Travis must have gotten away then. The leucrotta sat down on its hind legs, red eyes staring up at him, panting like a dog.

“Will, come down,” it said with Travis’s voice, “It’s safe.”

“Do you think I’m some sort of stupid demigod?” Will muttered. He kicked his legs again and yelped when his hands slipped. A shoe fell and bopped the leucrotta on the nose with a plunk. It sniffed at it before glancing back at him, tail whipping back and forth in excitement.

Will clung to the single shoe. It’s not strong enough to hold his weight and Will found himself slowly dropping. The leucrotta yipped in anticipation, and if only that yip wasn’t in joy of him being eaten, Will could have almost found that adorable.

Admittedly, Will might have panicked a little. Just a little. Okay, a lot. Cut him a break. He’s a medic, not a warrior.

He kicked his feet through the air, hoping that if it’s enough to keep from dropping. It didn’t do what he hoped it would and it send his jumbled mind into a panic-fuelled frenzy.

Ah, what do I do! What do I do? I’m going to be eaten alive. I’m going to die. I’m not ready for that. I still have so many things to do. I’m only — Oh wait, the beak is still in my hand.

If he jumped now and maneuvered a bit, he could land on it’s back and have an open stab. Yeah, that’s a plan and Will let go of the shoe.

Okay, so he didn’t actually think this through well enough. Maybe it was the lack of fighting experience but rather than land on the monster’s back, his foot slammed into its snout. It backed away, whimpering in pain, and Will crashed to the ground, the beak slipping from his hands. He scrambled to his feet, panicking slightly as he searched for the beak.

That’s probably what messed him up. By the time it took him to find the beak, the leucrotta was almost done whimpering in pain, head turning towards him. Frantically, Will thrusted down at the first body part he was able to reach, the forelimb.

It moved the last minute and Will stabbed the ground instead, leaves and branches fluttering into the air. Licking it’s snout, the leucrotta took a step toward Will and he can see himself reflected in that hungry, hungry eye.

I’m dead.

It took another step forward before bursting into a cloud of dust. From where it once stood, a celestial beak was embedded in the ground.

“And you said the beaks weren't worth it. Eat crow!”

Will raised his head to see Travis sitting on a branch that is 15 feet above the ground. His good leg swung casually. A stupid grin was on his face and he waved, his slingshot in his hand.

“Eat...crow? Who uses that phrase anymore?” Will muttered under his breath.

He got up from the ground, digging his and Travis’s beak out of the ground. With a scrutinizing stare, he asked, “How did you got up there? I can’t believe you climb.”

The prankster shrugged. “You do amazing things when you’re high on adrenaline.”

Travis glanced down and Will could see the mental calculations going through his brain on how to get down. Then he shrugged, like he couldn’t care how the process should be done, turned around, and began to climb down.

Will took a step forward in concern. “Hey, maybe you should wait for—”

He didn’t even finish his sentence before Travis’s foot gave and he fell straight to the ground, landing flat on his back.

“Me to help you down,” Will finished lamely.

“Ow. That hurts,” Travis groaned.

Will hurried to Travis’s side and helped bring his upper body up to rest against the tree. By mistake, Will’s hand brushed against the towel. It’s wet and when he pulled his hand up to look at it, he sees it brushed with red, bright and wet. Wiping the blood on the ground, Will said in dismay, “You’re  bleeding again.”

Travis waved his hand nonchalantly like it was no big deal, like his leg isn’t bleeding and the towel isn’t soaked. “I’m sure it’s fine, Will. No need to worry.”

But Will leaned forward and slipped the backpack from Travis’s shoulder, ignoring his cries of surprise. He shifted through the belongings and pulled out the folded tent, tossing the backpack aside.

There was an undignified squeak from the boy behind him — My bag! Ah, don’t toss it like a ragdoll! — but Will ignored that too. He put his hand inside, rummaging around. It’s a strange feeling. He can feel the emptiness, the sleeping bags, and the water bottles even though it shouldn’t be physically possible.

“What are you doing with my tent?” Travis whined, reaching out feebly. Will turned away.

“You have food in here, right? I need it for strength,” Will said, pulling out—Gods damn it, tuna. He hates seafood. Will stuck his hand back in. There’s gotta be something better.

There was. His hands snagged a handful of granola bars.

“Strength for what?”

“Healing the wound completely,” Will answered, tearing open a bar open with his teeth and gulping it down.

“Oh.” Travis looked away awkwardly, trying to stand and failing. “There’s no need for that. It isn’t that bad.”

“Why are you so against me helping you? Doesn’t it hurt?” Will snapped. Travis opened his mouth to retort but Will barged on, “I don’t care what you say. I’m healing it. There’s no point in wrapping it again if it’s just going to reopen.”

Travis sighed in resignation. “Fine. Do whatever you like, Mr. Pushy.”

Will bent to Travis’s level and took away the towel, grimacing at the blood surrounding the wound. Through the crusty maroon of dried blood, the bright red of fresh blood, and the swelling, Will could see the early signs of infection. Green pus puddled around the wound’s entry in a gross manner.

Not that bad my ass, Will thought, gritting his teeth. I don’t think I can heal it all the way...Damn it, I should have healed the wound earlier. Maybe it wouldn’t have been this bad.

“Is it bad?” Travis asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Will bit his tongue, trying his hardest to restrain the sarcasm itching to get out. “It’s something I can fix. Relax. This won’t hurt a bit.”

Will took a big swig of water and placed his hands over the wound, thought too late, I should have worn gloves, before pressing down and singing a hymn.

Some people think his healing powers are like that magic hair from that one Disney movie. Sing a little song and it’s all over with. Quick and simple.

That’s totally not the case.

It’s definitely not quick and most definitely not simple. There are over a hundred hymns, first of all, meant to be splinted and spliced together to fit the occasion. Mess up a line and your patient is blue in the face as their airway swells and constricts. Mispronounce a syllable and your patient is nauseous, throwing up their guts all over your face. Not his proudest moments, but Will learned his lesson. Memorization does matter. There’s no way to bullshit out of it.

Travis stiffened underneath Will’s touch. He squirmed and Will warned, “Keep struggling and I’ll pin you down,” as he repositioned himself before continuing the chant.

The tingling feeling in his chest arose whenever he called on his healing powers. It’s flowed from his chest, to his arms, to his hands, and past the other side. A warm, tickling feeling that quickly grew in intensity to a burning, bristling sensation.

Will stopped when black dots encroached his vision. He leaned back, wiping the blood and pus on the ground.

“You...actually heal it,” Travis said, staring at his leg with awe.

He poked the area, still caked with old and fresh blood, and Will frowned. That’s one thing his hymns doesn’t take care off. The bodily fluids need to be removed manually.

He tossed a water bottle to Travis. “Of course. Do you think I was going to make it worse? Clean the blood off. I want to see how it healed."

Travis struggled with opening the water bottle, tongue out in the effort. After a couple of minutes of watching Travis trying and failing, Will sighed and took the water bottle from his hands and twist it open with a single flick. Travis took it back with a small, embarrassed chuckle. He poured it over the healed wound, rubbing the dried blood off, and Will was relieved to see it was nothing but a pink scratch. Guess I underestimated myself.

He crawled beside Travis, leaning back on the tree. His eyes slid shut. There was a pounding in his head and he’s 100% sure that’s not from the gods-induced visions. What I would do for a warm, comfy bed right about now. I wonder if it’s too early to make camp and go to sleep.

Beside Will, Travis rambled, “Wow, Will. This is so cool. I never knew you could do that. I always thought your powers only work for minor injuries like sprains or something. How much energy does it take to heal paper cuts? Mary likes to bother me about that whenever she gets one even when it didn’t break the skin. Can you take care of her problems? Wait, do you charge for your services? Or are they free? I don’t have a lot of drachmas to be giving out. Do friends get discounts, wait, do you consider me a—”

“Hey, Travis?” Will interrupted.

“Hm?”

“If you ever try to lead a monster away like that I’ll sic Mrs. O’Leary on you.”

Travis scratched the back of his head, leaning away slightly from Will. “A-ah, you’re mad about that. Mrs. O’Leary loves me though. She’ll never hurt me...No, wait, she loves Connor. That’s right. She adores Connor, not me. Okay, I won’t ever do that again. Do you need something to eat? Here, you’re a health fanatic, right?”

Will opened his eyes and grimaced at the can of tuna in his hand. He took it, opening it slightly and taking a whiff, before closing it and putting it aside. Screw his healthy streak, everybody deserves a break from their diet. Will dug out the Pop Tarts from the tent and tore the package open. Travis gave him a look and Will remembered last night his commentary about Travis’s food choice.

“Shut up. I deserve this,” Will mumbled defensively.

They fall into a silence with the only sounds being the wind whistling and the crunching of pop tarts.

Will sneaked a peek over at Travis in between his bites. He was chewing his bottom lip, an indescribable look on his face. Now that he thinks about it, Travis is pretty handsome. Well, handsome isn’t the right word. Not with the way his face is structured. He doesn’t have the strong jawline most considers to be handsome. But it’s like a baby face, round and kinda chubby. He’s almost what Will could call cute.

Then Travis turned suddenly towards him and Will looked away. Gods, if he was caught ogling his face there would never be an end to the teasing.

“Will, I need to tell you something…” Travis said, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack, “I, um, I haven’t been completely honest with you. You need to know… that… that… Lollypop is dead.”

Will blinked. He’s sure that wasn’t what Travis was about to say but he shrugged it off and followed along. “I figured as much.”

Travis tugged harder at his backpack’s strap, eyes darting everywhere but him. “If you need someone to be with you when you tell Butch, I’ll gladly be by your side…no, wait, behind you… with a shield… and Percy, Nico, and Jason between us.”

“Thanks,” Will stated, rolling his eyes, “Your offer of support really warmed my soul.”

The moment passed and Travis was back to his old self.

He smirked. “Butch is scary, man. Have you seen him angry? I have and it’s not fun. If I were you, I would use Nico as your getaway kid because when Butch gets angry, he blows.”

Will rolled his eyes again.

“So I guess we head back to Camp Jupiter then?” said Will, shoving the last bits of the PopTarts down.

Travis nodded and leaped to his feet. He pointed to the right. “There’s a hiking path 5 miles north of here. We can follow it to the tourist site rather than go back the way we came... Wow, you’re really amazing, Will. It doesn’t hurt at all!”

There was a big, kiddish smile on Travis’s face. And, experimentally, he leaped back and forth, up and down, one foot to the other.

Will watched with mild fondness. Travis really is childish.

“You wouldn’t have been hurt if I hadn’t insisted on finding the pegasi. Sorry about—”

Travis interrupted him, rolling his eyes, “Will, you feel bad for everything. For such a successful medic, you have a low self-esteem. Maybe you were right and they were fine. We could have flown out of here. But, because of you, now we know they are not fine and they are very much unable to fly. Wait. Hold on, I was going somewhere with this.”

“You’re so bad at comforting someone,” Will laughed.  

Travis blew a raspberry. “Well, you’re laughing again. So maybe I’m not too bad.”

The winds blew that moment and the sun filtering through the canopies washed over Travis’ face. And it illuminates that soft smile Travis had. It was so different from his crass smirks or goofy grins. It was so soft, so warm. Will didn’t think Travis could smile like that.

He swallowed, painfully aware how dry his mouth is and looked away. “I guess,” he mumbled.

He wished he hadn’t looked away.

He wished he had spent more time just staring, just more time mesmerizing and pounding the way Travis smiles—the way his eyebrows relax, the way his eyes crinkle in genuinity, the way his lips curved —into his mind before everything went into the shithole.

“Aw, what a sweet moment.”

Their relaxed atmosphere melted away to alertness. They snapped their heads to the voice. A little girl, no older than 8-year-old at best, stood beside the tree, a pale hand resting on its trunk. She wore a simple, black dress that ended just above her scuffed knees. Tendrils of gray matter snaked around her bare feet. Milky white eyes bored into them. There was a small smile on her young face, innocent and malicious all at the same time.

Travis took a step back, away from the girl and towards him.

“Hey,” said Travis, cautiously, “You’re a—”

“Spirit. I’m not a goddess if that’s what you’re thinking,” she interrupted, cheeks puffing out in annoyance. Her words were poised, like she said them a thousand times and will probably say a thousand more times. “My name is Algea. I represent pain, suffering—”

She tapped the tree twice with her finger. “Grief.”

There was a creaking sound, like an unoiled door hinge, that grew louder and louder with each passing second. Will stared wide-eyed as the full grown, 40 feet tree bent and bowed, swaying back and forth in the breeze before crashing to the ground, like a sapling under a desert sun.

“Oh my gods,” Travis muttered under his breath. And even more quietly, “She’s just like Katie.”

The spirit narrowed her eyes, her sharp ears picking up the commentary but unsure of whether to be upset or indifferent to the comparison.

Will’s heart jumped. He kicked Travis in the heel, hissing, “Don’t say that! You’ll get her angry!”

Travis gave him a look over his shoulder and stuck out his tongue. When he turned back to the spirit, all jovialness dropped. His tone held an air of formality that Will only seen when he talked to Mr. D or his father. “What can I do for you, Miss Algea?”

The spirit jolted in pleasant surprise at the duo before a sweet smile came forth. “How nice. Most demigods show no respect to spirits such as I. It’s always towards the major gods and goddess. Hm, maybe I won’t break your legs like I planned. Only naughty children get broken legs. I’m here on an errand actually.”

Then she was marching up to them and, without pause, took Travis’s hand into hers. There was no sound, no warning before Travis collapse in a heap on the ground, unconscious.

“Travis!” Will cried, scrambling off the tree and to the prankster’s side. The world spun around him and the pop tarts he consumed earlier was urging for a reentry but Will pushed all that down and rolled Travis onto his back, hand cupping the neck. The pulse under his fingertips did nothing to reassure him and he turned to the spirit angrily.

“What did you do to him?”

The spirit turned and yawned, rubbing a hand over teary eyes. “He’s in the dreamscape. Claire wanted a word with him. Don’t worry. He’ll wake up soon enough.”

From the side, the spirit gave him a look, a pitiful expression on her youthful face. “As for you, Son of the Sun, I wouldn’t place so much trust in the thief. He’s hiding something rather significant. I would leave him if I were you.”

Will gritted his teeth, instead moving to swipe the strands of hair away from Travis’s face. His eyebrows were creased and his head tossed left and right.

Whatever dream he was in, it wasn’t pleasant.

“Are you listening to me? Your father—”

Algea took a step towards him and without thought, Will snatched the beak from his pocket and thrust it at her. The spirit stopped him with a single hand. She stared at the beak, unfazed, and gently pried the beak from his grasp, crushing it with a clench of her hands.

She gave him another pitiful look. “But I can see you are not one to ignore a friend. The Lord of Hymns will be unpleased with me if I let his favorite son waltzed his way to death. Hm, I'll fix the thief's lack of communication for you.”

There was a kick and Travis jolted awake beside Will, his head nearly butting into his. Travis was breathing hard and in that one instance, before Travis turned to face him, Will swore he saw rage, unadulterated, pure rage, before his eyes fell on him and the rage was...gone?

No. It was smothered, hidden.

“Oh, hey. Will. Glad to see you’re okay,” Travis said in short, crisp sentences.

The spirit stretched, joints popping. “Oh, that was surprisingly quick. But I guess Claire is one of few words. I would love to know you better. I do love tragic stories, but she has her eyes set on you. I’m supposed to handle your brother. I hope he’s as nice as you.”

Travis scowled and Will flinched. In the six years, Will knew the prankster. He only ever saw him mildly irritated and that had lead to some cruel, extraordinary pranks. He fears what an angry Travis is capable of.

Travis climbed to his feet smoothly. He held out a hand, taking a step forward, talking in an even tone with barely concealed contempt, “What is she paying you? I’ll double that amount if you leave him alone.”

The spirit ignored the question and cracked her knuckles instead. She said cheerfully, “Your poor friend has no idea of the danger you dragged him into, does he? My, what an awful friend you are.”

A crossbow materialized in her hand. She raised it, arrow notched, and aimed.

“But don’t worry.”

Click .

“I can fix that.”

And the arrow flies forward, piercing Travis in the chest.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Erinyes

Will thought the fates were out to get them.

Well, scratch that.

The fates are out to get Travis.

Will scrambled to his feet, mind flying a thousand miles — recalling incantations, medical procedures, his own failure as a medic for forgetting the godsdamn ambrosia— but Travis remained standing, albeit pale, and Will watched with his own two, very well-functioning eyes as the arrow dissolved to dust.

It left no wound. No tear in his Camp Half Blood shirt. No blossoming patch of red. No strangled cry of pain. No buckling of the knees. No theatrics of any sort.

Will would have thought he hallucinated the whole scenario if it weren't for Algea slinging the crossbow onto her shoulder like it weighed nothing.

Travis was patting his chest cautiously when Will reached his side. Travis frowned — In discomfort?! In pain?! — and he lifted his head to ask, "You saw that arrow, right? I'm not going crazy?"

But it was overshadowed by Will's frantic questions. "Are you okay? Are you bleeding? Does it hurt? Do you feel faint, nauseous? Do you feel any sort of liquid in your lungs?" said Will as he ran his fingers up and down the torso, answering some of his own questions though new ones formed.

"No, I—"

"Is your vision fading in and out? Are any limbs tingling? Do you need a hymn? Oh my gods, don't die, Travis. I'll figure something out, just hold on."

"He's not going to die. Those aren't my orders," the spirit said. She twirled the crossbow over her hand, the bow disappearing on the fourth spin. With a hand on her hip, she smiled smugly.

"I gave him a curse. Ask a question."

Will ignored her. Travis is paler than he should be. From the dream? From the curse? From not eating any real food today and yesterday?

He pressed his hand to Travis' forehead. It's cool, almost clammy. Is he going into shock? Oh no, what is he going to do if Travis does go into shock? He's out of strength and the nearest hospital is who knows how far away.

Travis knocked his hand away much to Will's irritation. There's that usual lazy...lazy? No, it's not his natural smirk. Something's off with his smile and Will faltered.

"I'm fine, Will. Stop worrying," Travis said with a light pat on his shoulder.

"... I—" but Travis brushed pass him.

With a calm voice that showed nothing, Travis asked, "Why are you working for her? Did she pay you to?"

The spirit tilted her head, eyes still at Will. "No question? Hm, I guess you'll find out eventually what it does, but I really wanted to be here to see the horror in his face… "

A vein popped on Travis' forehead and his voice became a little strained. "Did she paid you off?"

"Ahh, what should I do? I'm suppose to leave right now, but this is by far my favorite curse to give to Argeiphontes' children. Hmmm, what a dilemma." The spirit sighed, a hand on her chin in a faux pose of thoughtfulness.

Travis' eyebrow twitched. He took a step forward.

Panicked, Will shot to Travis' side and halted his advance. There's a buzzing in his head, but he ignored that in favor of keeping his friend alive. "Wait! Don't do anything rash. We're at a disadvantage, Travis. We don't have anything to defend ourselves with if she retaliates."

Algea's head shot up and she turned towards them eagerly. "Oh! No need to worry. I'm not like your fathers. There's not a single bone in this body that is egotistical. Hehehe, I got to go now. Time is ticking after all. Imma go say hi to Connor! Tah-tah!"

She turned around and skipped off, hands clasped behind her back.

To Will's horror, Travis leaned down, picked up a pine cone, and hurled it at the spirit, landing it squarely on her head.

She stopped. Will began counting his blessing.

Travis, on the other hand, didn't seem to care. He leaned down to pick up more cones, rolling them in his hand. "New question, who else is working with her?"

Slowly, the spirit turned, slightly, just enough for Will to see her profile and that twisted smile.

"Don't count on the Gods for help. She has Zeus's blessing and Zeus ordered those in the heavens to not interfere unless directed to."

Then with a flash of searing, red light Algea was gone.

Will isn't dumb.

Someone, Claire, has intense beef with Travis for whatever reason he has no clue on.

The spirit of grief is heading to Connor to do Apollo knows what.

And the gods are interfering.

It's why the monsters aren't eating them right now. It's why they're stranded here in the first place. And it's probably why Travis is running to tackle them head on.

It had scared Will at first. Because only a stupid idiot would run head on to a hellhound. And the hellhound would wag its tail with glee, happy a demigod is running right into it's jaw, only for it to pause it's attack as if it was hesitating. Then Travis would stab the celestial beak right into the noggin and — poof — dust.

And when Will stumbled his way, a lecture brewing on the tip of his tongue, Travis turned to face him. "They're not supposed to kill me."

He's panting in exertion as he kicks the dust. "I hope every monster hesitates. Come on, let's go."

Then Travis is running again and Will is quick to follow.

Quick to follow, just kinda hard to keep up. His body begs for him to rest, entire body drained of energy. This always happens when he does some big healing. This familiar burn in his muscles and the buzzing in his head, all of it is very typical of exhaustion… he just never tried sprinting right after he used his power.

And he can say for certain that it is not a good feeling.

Really not a good feeling at all.

Travis seems to be running fine at least, still tripping over foliage and stumbling over nothing. It's probably what's allowing Will to keep up with him.

The question burns on the tip of his tongue, Are you alright?, but it seems kinda silly. With the way Travis is running, he definitely seems fine.

Still, he asked anyway, "Hey, are you okay? Does anywhere hurt?"

"Yeah, my chest." And Travis stopped abruptly.

Will almost crashed into his back. It's a good thing his whole world is kind of swaying, because he swerved just in time. He pushed his queasiness away, tried hard to calm his erratic breathing, and focus on what was said.

Pain. On the chest. Okay.

"Is it from the arrow?" he asked.

Travis shook his head. "No, it's from running."

"Oh."

His head is spinning too much. Running. Running after using his powers is a no-no. He tries to focus again but — are leaves supposed to be black? He squints at the leaves, no… no, they're definitely black—Green! He meant to say green.

Ah, Travis is looking at him expectedly. Will shook his head and tries to focus. "I know this hymn. I'm not sure if I can—"

"I don't need healing. I, uh, actually don't know why I told you," Travis says, looking away and scratching the back of his head with uneven chuckles.

"That's okay. Talking is good. Talking about your problems is good. Talking in general is good." What is he saying now?

Travis cocked his head to the side. He's frowning. Will wonders if Travis knows his nose crinkles when he frowns. "Hey, are you okay? You're kind of pale."

"I'm super, duper great!" Did the sky always have such bright purple stars?

Travis shook his head. A hand rested on his shoulder. "You look like you're about to—"

"I feel fine, like a million bucks. Come on, let's go." He took a step forward and his knees buckled.

The last thing he hears before passing out was Travis, saying very timely, "Oh gods." A pair of arms wrapped around him, cradling him in a nice warmth, as he drifted off.

Will thinks he has enough visions to last him a lifetime.

He's done with them. Entirely done. He kept his eyes shut, refusing to see whatever he's supposed to see. Maybe the higher ups will realize he doesn't want to see them.

Then he heard a voice.

"Him? He looks clueless."

And another voice.

"No, he has a knife."

"How about that girl then?"

Will opened his eyes and was blinded immediately with glaring yellow hues, but there's people chattering, kids crying, waves crashing, and birds cawing. When his eyes adjusted and he could finally see without pain, he sees the setting sun lighting the water on fire, a beautiful red streak across the glittering ocean blue. And when he turned around, he sees pedestrians, in casual wear, with little kids and strollers, with sun hats and sundresses and sunglasses.

He saw this port before.

San Francisco's Fisherman Wharf in California.

"What did you got?"

"Not a lot, but I did manage to get a 10 ticket bus pass! We can sell it."

Will turned around.

"So how about that kid there?"

"I got it."

Two children, both young yet both sharing the same face, sat on a bench, a golden retriever slept by their side. Their legs swung in synchronization as they point at the passing bystanders. Their faces were familiar, crooked smiles and crooked grins, elvish noses.

He knows it's useless, but he still tried anyway. "Travis? Connor?"

They didn't look at him, but Travis (or was it Connor?) slid off the bench, mixing in with the crowd. He came back, hands full of goodies. He nodded to his brother and the other picked up the leash, waking the dog. They ran down the pier, disappearing among the pedestrians.

When Will came to, he's on the ground. He groaned as he stood up, well, tried to stood up. His legs wouldn't cooperate so he pulled himself upright. Really bad move, the sky lurched. His head protested. Darkness encroached his peripheral vision. Crap. He can't pass out again.

He held his head tightly, willing for the dots to go away.

A bush rustled to his right. Will stiffened, hand shoving into his pocket to pull out the beak. But he relaxed when he saw it was only Travis and his ice pick.

Will stared at Travis for a while. He's wearing new clothes, a green Nike tee and black mesh shorts. Where did he got new clothes? Then he remembered faintly from what seems like years ago, his bag gives clothes too. Sport clothes. Will wondered if the bag could make school specific gym uniforms. Kally always complained how her school required them to buy separate uniforms for gym class.

Travis' face is twisted into a frown and he's grumbling to himself, 'Stupid chimera, what a coward flying away like that.'

Will's heart seized. Chimera?

Travis raised to his head to meet his eyes, a large smile forming on his face as he bounced to Will's side. "You're up! Whew, I thought you were going to sleep forever. How are you feeling?"

Without Will saying anything, Travis dug through his backpack and presented water and granola bars.

Will took the water with shaky hands, trying his hardest not to gulp it all down his parched throat is begging him to do. "What happened to your clothes?" Will asked in between sips.

"It was torn apart by a hellhound," Travis said in an entirely honest, too forward way.

And Will chokes on his water, coughing harshly. Travis pats his back. "What? Are you hurt?"

"I got clawed on the hip," Travis admits, again to Will's surprise.

But before he can say anything, Travis leapt to his feet with a too loud, too forced laugh. "Enough about me. Are you okay? I can't go back to camp with you dead. Apollo cabin would have my head. Nico would stab me. And my cred at camp as a reliable guy will go bye-bye. Can you stand? We gotta go."

Will tried standing again, but his legs wouldn't budge. He bit his lips and looked at Travis who's staring at him anxiously. There's no time to dawdle. He's just slowing him down. It's pretty obvious what the best move is.

"Just leave me here," Will said.

Travis shook his head. "There's too many monsters. You'll die in an hour. Not even an hour, you'll die in a minute."

"But isn't Connor in trouble?"

"Yes," Travis says, but he frowned and shook his head. "No, he's not. I was kidding. Connor is fine. So stop telling me to leave you."

There's something off and maybe if Will wasn't so tired, he would have thought more about that response. "Just leave me. I'll be fine. I have this beak you gave me, remember?" And he waved the beak to show his point.

Travis turned around, kneeling and holding his hands out. "I'm carrying you. Climb on."

Will grimaced. "I don't think you can carry me."

Travis looked back at him, face twisted in mock offense. "Excuse me? Are you saying I'm weak?"

"I'm saying we're around the same weight and you're not exactly… like Jason. You're too lean." Which is true. Travis is lean. He's not broad shouldered like Jason or well-muscled like Frank and Percy. His body musculature is more like his and Nico's. Lanky, skinny, could probably eat more food.

"I'm hurt at how much you don't trust me. I can definitely carry you. Trust me. I can definitely do it. Whatever Jason can do, I can do. Minus the flying part. And his killer sword skills. I don't think anybody can beat him in a sword fight. I wonder if Jason is good with other weapons. I heard he's awful at archery. I bet I can beat him at that. Nobody knows I'm fantastic at archery."

At least, Travis still rambles.

Will closed his eyes and lay back down on the ground. "Just leave me, Travis. You can come back for me later."

"You are seriously asking for it, huh?"

He nods.

"Fine. I'm leaving… Not. If you forced me to accept having my leg healed, I'm forcing you to accept being carrying."

Will groaned. "Why are you being so stubborn? Can't you see leaving me is the best choice?"

"It is the best choice," Travis said truthfully and Will chuckled. Ah, he even admits it. It hurts but even he believes it.

But Travis huffed and grabbed him by the front of the shirt, trying to lift him up and failing. "But you're my friend. I refuse to leave you behind."

"I'm so sleepy. Just go. By the time you get back, I may still be sleeping," Will mumbled, "I used to have this dream of being a pro skier. In that dream, I was so good. The very best. I was competing in the Olympics with super ninja spies when the dream ended. I hope I get that dream again."

Travis groaned. "You are such a difficult person. Wake up, Will. Now's not the time to be spouting nonsense. You can be an Olympian in real life! But you look more like a bobsledder than a skier to me. We should make a team. I love bobsledding. It's so smooth and graceful that — bobsledding. That's a sport. That's a sport!"

Will heard Travis rummaging through his backpack. He raised his head, groaning at the effort, and look to see what's going on. "What are you…"

Travis yelled triumphantly, pulling a toboggan out of the backpack. Will squinted to make sure that it indeed is a toboggan and not something he's hallucinating.

Travis laughed like he beat the world or something. He looked at Will with a dazzling smile. "Get on. I'll toll you."

Will thinks he likes being tolled. It's relaxing.

He can look at the sky and see the way the leaves swayed under the breeze and the way the clouds rolled pass and the way birds dove and sweep through the sky.

It also tells him if there's a chimera.

Did you know chimeras have lots of variety? For example, some of the lions are males. Some are females. Some are American Lion while some are African. And the goats, he wonders why some of the goat looks like their domesticated goat? He swears one of the goat heads look like a Nubian. It looks soft and cuddly.

He shouldn't think that way. It'll be a lot more difficult to end them if they were cute.

Like Mrs. O' Leary.

Travis still sucked at detecting the monsters.

After their first encounter that nearly left Will to be a lucky chimera's dinner, they developed a system. One tug on the rope means to the left, twice means above, thrice is to the right.

But a lot of the time, Will is just staring at the sky and listening for monsters through Travis' rambling.

It makes him wonder back to what Algea said.

She said something about Claire. Who is Claire?

"Claire is my mom," Travis gritted out.

Will scrunched his eyebrows together. Was he talking out loud? Oops.

"Why is she out to get you?" Will didn't expect an answer. Travis been avoiding the topic of his family all day and yesterday. What are the chances he'll start—

"Because I killed my grandparents and my half brother."

Will's eyes widen.

What?

He rolled onto his elbows to get a better look at Travis, expecting to see a teasing grin and a 'just kidding, got you,' but Travis remained facing forward and pulling without halt.

"You...you wha— "

"Will, can you do me a favor? Can you please not ask any more questions? Please? Until I say it's okay?"

There's something raw in his voice that made Will said, "Okay."

Maybe it's the way his shoulders are tensed or the way he's pulling with renewed strength or the pleading in that voice, but Will obeyed. He laid back down and stared at the sky again.

"Okay."

Will likes to think of life as a game when you're a demigod. Sometimes you win some and sometimes you lose some. So far, yesterday and today have been nothing but losses. The time for a win must be coming up soon.

Just not now it seems like as the pouring rain drenched their clothes and darken their moods.

Correction, darken a mood.

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! AHHHH!"

Travis is screaming, kicking mud, and hurling sticks into the sky.

Rain pelt down in a downpour Will never seen before. From under the tree, he glanced up at the sky. The sky is covered by the large, nimbus clouds when just minutes ago it was only mildly cloudy. California weather sure do change fast.

The sun is still up, though, and they have an hour till sunset and 20 more minutes till complete darkness. He made his guestimate known to his companion.

Travis responded with another kick in the mud. "IT WASN'T RAINING A FEW MINUTES AGO! WHAT THE HELL! WHAT THE COWING HELL!"

Will tried not to say anything but he couldn't help it. He really couldn't help it. "Cowing?" He asked with a laugh he couldn't contain.

Travis turned sharply towards him, scowling. "Yes, cowing. I have dozens of little kids in my cabin. I don't use real cuss words."

"They're not here," Will pointed out.

And Travis gasped in fake surprise. "Really? Wow! Thank you, Will! I couldn't have made that observation without your help!"

"You're very welcome."

Travis rolled his eyes. He stared at the sky for a few more minutes as if hoping the rain will stop. He strode over to Will, checking the rails of the toboggan and grimacing at how it is sucked into the ground.

"You can still leave me," offered Will.

His offer was completely ignored. Travis took his backpack from Will's lap. "We can't travel like this. I'm setting up camp. At day break, we're going."

Will watched Travis set up his tent and he's tolled inside into the thankful dry warmth. He rolled off the sled and crawled to his sleeping bag. Limbs splayed and on his stomach, Will closed his eyes in bliss.

He almost fell asleep. He thinks he did fell asleep for a minute or two, but the feel of his stomach rumbling dragged Will back to consciousness. He lifted his head and it was immediately shoved back into the sheets.

Shoving the hand away, Will glared at Travis. "What was that — "

"Go to sleep, Will. You need it. You knocked out as soon as you fell in the bed. Heh, you were so cute. Do you know you snore? It's adorable. Like a little puppy. Snore, snore. That little whistle is so cute. I want to record it and show Nico. I'm sure he'll love seeing you so — "

"How long was I asleep?" Will cuts in.

"2 hours," Travis stated. He frowned, scratching his neck.

It worried Will and he asked what was wrong.

"I was thinking about the curse Algea give me."

That's right. She gave him a curse. He wondered what it was. "Did you figure it out?"

Travis answered quickly, "Yeah."

He turned to his face Will, legs crossed. "Ask me what my favorite color is. I'm going to say brown."

"Okay…?" Will was confused, but he asked nonetheless, "What is your favorite color?"

And immediately Travis answered, "Blue."

His face twisted into anger. "Dang it, it just came out. Ask me another question."

"Sure, why do you like blue?"

"Because it reminds me of your eyes."

Will thinks a human face couldn't get more red than Travis's at the moment. Soon after the statement, Travis bolted to his feet, screeching over his shoulders, "No more questions!" before hurdling out of the tent and into the rain.

Will didn't really know what to think at the statement. So blue reminds Travis of his eyes. So what? When he sees a lyre, it reminds him of Lee and a bow reminds him of Michael. It shouldn't be that big of a deal, right? Sure, it drenches up bad memories and it sent him spiraling back into that time of "what-ifs." Not that Will will ever admit that to his siblings.

Oh. I get it.

Will waited for Travis to come back, anxiety rising with each passing minute. Did something happen? Should he go out to look for him? But the tent's flap zipped open and Travis came back. His clothes are soaked. Did the rain grew heavier?

"Hey, sorry about me leaving just now. I just had to, um, pee."

It's the most pathetic excuse Will ever heard but he let it be. He rolled onto his back and pulled his body upright, the effort taking more out of him than it should. "You can't tell a lie can you?"

"No, I can," Travis answered immediately, then he groaned and buried his head into his hands. "It's not like I can't tell a lie. I can. It's just I can't tell a lie when I'm answering a question."

Will processed the information given to him. He can't tell a lie when asked a question…

'You can't tell a lie can you? Why do you like blue? How long was I asleep? Who is Claire?

Why is she out to get you?'

And Will paled.

"Then...back then when I asked about your mom and why...I was forcing you to answer. I...I'm sorry! I so, so sorry, Travis."

First, useless and now, a manipulative asshole of a friend.

Tears pricked in his eyes, but Travis rolled his eyes and threw an empty water bottle at him. It hit his shoulder and bounced right back to Travis' face. He spluttered, face reddening a little, as he tried to play it off.

"Stop already. You didn't know."

"But, but— " There were so many clues. His honesty, the way he backtracks what he says, Will should have known. He should have figured it out sooner. He predicted illnesses before. This is something he should have figured out sooner.

"Will, listen to me ya big doofus. You were acting kind of funky and I mean really funky. When I was tugging you along, you were actually talking nonsense about your dream of being an Olympian Skier. It was ridiculously funny and I wish I can reenact it for you, but the point was you were totally out of it. I don't think even Annabeth can function if she was in your situation."

"But, but...I'm used to reading people. I read people under worse conditions. I'm—"

Travis clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Will. It's fine."

Will opened his mouth but the hand on his shoulder shot up to his mouth. Travis says it again, more insistently, "Will. It's fine. I'm not mad. I know you didn't mean to."

Will closed his eyes and the tears he tried to hold back finally leaked.

That sparked instant alarm from Travis. He pulled his hands back in panic, but still in the air in between them. "Ah! Uh, oh, um, er — don't cry! Don't cry, Will! Why are you crying? Come on, everything will be fine. Everything will turn out alright."

And Travis is patting his back, cooing soothing words over and over.

His attempt at consolation just brought another bout of tears that Will couldn't stifle.

Everything had been him getting into trouble, him needing to be saved. He couldn't fight. He couldn't help. He couldn't even walk on his own two feet. His only saving grace was his exceptional healing prowess and it still left him as a burden. Now he just forced his friend to do something against his will. Just how much more of a deadweight can he become?

Travis was rubbing his back, gulping harshly. His face is laced with guilt. Which shouldn't be. It should be with anger or irritation. Not guilt. "Is this about me keeping secrets from you? I'm sorry. I know this whole situation must be scary. I'll tell you everything if that makes you feel better."

Will shook his head fervently. "It's not that."

"Then is it because you're afraid you'll never see Nico again? Don't worry, you will and you guys will share that happily ever after with that kiss in the sunset and—"

Will shook his head again. "It's not that either."

Travis is silent for a moment, tapping his fingers on his knees. "Is it about me tolling you? I really didn't mind. You're not heavy. Like I said, I can carry you no problem."

"Why are you being so nice to me when this whole time I was a burden?" Will blurted. It hits him too late that it was a question.

And Travis says in a mechanical way, "Because I don't want you to die."

Will buried his head in his arms.

Again.

He did it again. But this time, he knew.

He really can't be more of a shit person than this, could he?

Travis whined, "Hey, Will...Come on...don't be like that. It's fine."

But he didn't raise his head. Travis whined again for him to cheer up. He felt a pair of arms encircled his back and a head resting on his shoulder, the ends of soft hair brushing against his ear. Travis opened his jaw. It doesn't matter though. Whatever words he spouts won't be enough to quell this rising hatred for him—

"Look on the bright side, Will. Now I am always, 100% of the time, with absolute certainty going to choose dare whenever we're playing Truth or Dare."

And Will laughed.

"And people will always know when I'm honest."

You're so stupid.

"And everybody will always know it's me."

You're so very stupid.

"And I'll be a hit as a boyfriend! My partner will never doubt me."

Will raised his head, wiping the tears away. "Why do you always joke around?"

Travis rolled his head further back on his shoulder, tip-top of hair brushing across Will's cheeks, and flashed him a smile. "Negativity is bad for your mind, so I'm more into optimistic thinking. You should start doing that too. Drop bad thoughts and think positively. Stop thinking you can't and start thinking you can."

Will sniffled hard. "You're weird."

And Travis pulled away. His fingers twitched to pull the warmth back, but Will stopped himself before he could. What was I about to do?

"You're so rude, Will." But Travis' tone is light. "Connor tells me that all the time even though I am a great brother. You think so too right? I am the best oldest brother."

Will stiffened. Connor. Their mom is after them both. Algea left to go to Connor. But he's in Camp Jupiter, so he should be safe. Right? No monsters can get into the camp.

"Hey, Will?"

Will looked over to see Travis inches from his face. He didn't back away, only blinking tiredly. He's being pushed into the sleeping bag.

"I feel like you need a good sleep. I'll wake you up when it's time to go, okay?"

Will didn't object and closed his eyes, but he couldn't fall asleep. He's painfully aware of his surroundings, of all the littlest noise — the rain pelting the ground, the wind howling outside, the crunching of granola bars, the crinkling of a bag of chips, the swishing of water, a deck of cards being shuffled, humming, the again crinkling of chips being torn open — when is Travis going to sleep?

It was like this last time, wasn't it?

He fell asleep first.

What was Travis doing while he's sleepi—

A hand combed his hair, parting and smoothing the strands. Will smiled a little. It actually feels nice.

He tried to open his eyes, but they refused to obey. That's okay though, the hand is soothing and if he just zoned out and stopped focusing on the hand, he can easily fall aslee—

There's a heavy sigh above him.

"You're such a good person, Will.

Anybody else would have freaked if I told them I killed my grandparents, but you didn't. You can make me tell you everything, but you didn't. To be honest, if I was in your shoes, I wouldn't hesitate to ask.

…

You think I'm a nice person and that's really good to hear, but that's not true.

I… I'm really selfish.

I'm a really selfish person.

Connor is in danger and I'm placing my needs above his."

There's a hard swallow.

"Last night, you asked why Connor is here if my mom hated Hermes.

It was an accident.

My mom was trying to drop me off at orphanages, but I keep poofing back to her. She confronted dad about it and they ended up banging.

She married a mortal man, Scott, around the time Connor was born. Because they couldn't get rid of us, we were just ignored. I think they were hoping we would die of starvation or get sick or something. I think Scott had a daughter with Athena. Maybe that's why he wasn't so freaked out about us and supported mom. I don't know what happen to my stepsister other than that she's 'gone now'

Next year, I had a new brother, Jamie.

I didn't think mom always hated us.

I think she may had loved us once upon a time.

When she had me, she was still an undergraduate in Harvard, studying to get into law school. My grandparents took care of me while she's in school.

They didn't know demigods exist. They didn't know I attracted monsters. Otherwise, they wouldn't have given me that phone to play with.

A hellhound came that minute. My grandmother hid me under the floorboard as my grandfather tried to protect us.

He couldn't.

When my mom came home, she found a hellhound digging into her parents and me sleeping soundly, intact.

She doesn't want us.

For years, she ignored me and Connor and we respected that. Me and Connor get by from pickpocketing tourists. We only visited home to shower and sleep. It worked out for everyone. Mom and Scott were happy. I was happy. Connor was happy.

Then when I was seven, Jamie was — well, he was…"

Travis paused.

"He was… the center of attention so me and Connor ran away. We took thousands of dollars from them though when we left. Mom wanted it back but we hid at Camp Half Blood. We hid for years that sometimes I think she forgot and it's safe to leave. But when we were fighting in Manhattan last year, we saw her, at the border where time slowed."

And Travis laughed, the hand carding through his hair slowed.

"I guess she didn't forget and now she knows we're in New York. Connor says he should ditch Camp and go to Hong Kong or Taiwan. Those places sound nice, doesn't it?"

Then the hand left completely and he hears Travis scoot away, a bag opening and chips crunching.

"I hate my life. I tired of hiding. Sometimes I wonder if we should just end this all. I don't want Connor to worry anymore."

And there's no more talking.

Will tried to open his eyes, to say something about what he just learned. But he couldn't.

A voice called to him.

Sleep, they said and he did.

There's a phone. A child was reaching for it, arms outreached. He was on top on another child by the shoulders. He squinted. They looked familiar. No, they are familiar. That's definitely—

—

Someone's screaming.

"Give me that! Give me that! You know you aren't supposed to touch that!"

Someone's yelling.

"They're coming. Oh god, they're coming. Quick, get me my —"

And something's growling.

—

He sees a tiny body laying on the ground. They're still, unmoving, and red is pooling around their body. Their head is at a wrong angle. He shouldn't be staring dead into their eyes when their back is to him.

And he lifted a hand, the words at the tip of his tongue. What's wro —

—

He's running. Someone is running beside him. And they're crying. He doesn't like it when they're crying.

"I-I-I'm sorry," he heard the other say, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean too. Please don't leave me, Connor."

"I know. It wasn't your fault."

—

People are chasing them. They're trying to catch him. He saw a man in one of the cars pressed a phone against their ear. "I found them, Claire!"

—

And then he's in the alleyway and he sees three children. There's one with blonde hair pulled taut in a ponytail. She's familiar. He knows that girl.

She held out a hand. "She can't get in. You'll be safe. I promise."

—

“She’s telling the truth. Let’s follow her.”

—

Then it's all white and there's nothing. A voice called to him and beg him to — to what? He couldn't catch the last part.

—

The Sun is angry at the Sky. They're screaming at each other.

"Father, please, my son did nothing wrong! There's no reason for him to be there. Allow me to take him away."

—

And he sees the same Sun fighting with a new person.

"Do something. Hades just sent her! I refuse to let him suffer for your mistake, Hermes!"

—

And then he's in the tent.

The sun is rising.

Travis is playing solitaire.

Then his head snapped up. His hand twitched, wrapping itself around the ice pick.

Travis stood —wait — and crawled forward. Don't go. He listened before his hand rested on the zipper—don't go!— and Will watched it slowly unzipped and looked from behind the departing back.

—

Then he's behind a tree and all he sees is that tree with the marching ants in between bark, but he hears Travis. He hears him talking, wary, guarded, scared.

"Is he working for her?"

And he hears the flutter of wings and Travis' yelping.

—

He's in a clearing.

Travis is pinned by a claw, screaming and struggling.

The thing, monster, demon, Satan grinned madly, black, leathery wings spreading wide.

It opened its mouth — pointed teeth disgusting yellow — and sunk down onto Travis' shoulder.

And the screams that tore from his lips was enough for Will to cover his ears.

—

Then he's back in the nothingness again and a tortoise is telling him to wake up.

—

Wake up or he'll die.

Wake up or he'll die.

Wake up.

Wake up wake up wake up WAKE UP

And Will woke up to sunlight burning his eyes.

He groaned and rolled over to his side, shielding his face from the glaring light. It hurts...why is it so bright?

Then his eyes snapped open.

They were supposed to leave at daybreak. It's been two hours since the sun came up. He jumped to his feet, mind still blurred by sleep.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up, Travis! We're late!"

He stumbled to the other side. The sleeping bag was empty. The flap was open.

How Will missed the chilling breeze, he doesn't know.

He stumbled outside, calling indiscriminately, sleep-addled brain not recognizing the fact that's not the smartest idea. "Travis? Travis! Travis, where are you? We need to go."

He wandered further out to see a tree. It was familiar. There's an ice pick at the base of it. He picked it up, held its weight in his hand before leaning over to see a clearing.

It was familiar. The creature standing in the middle of it was familiar. As well as the man the monster had pinned under its claw, nails digging through the shirt and into the chest.

Blood stained the ground.

With a snarl, the monster lifted her head and smiled — grimaced, scowled, snickered — at Will.

"Son of the Sun, welcome. My name is Tisiphone, one of the three Erinyes, and I have the pleasure of being your personal escort to the Underworld."

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Veritas

Tisiphone. Erinyes. Fury.

Will never saw one up close. Percy had told him they were ugly — monsters with bat wings and long claws and yellow fangs and leathery skin and — gods. Percy’s right. They are ugly. They’re terrifying. But why are they here? Don’t they only punish bad people? Don’t they work for Hades? Why are they —

[I wouldn’t count on the Gods for help. She has their favor.]

Oh. Oh. Oh.

“Will!”

Will lowered his eyes, pass the Fury’s scaly torso, pass the thin, chicken-leg like arm, to Travis’ pained face. There’s a bite mark on his shoulder like he dreamt and his eyes are unclear. The pupils were blown wide from, from pain? From poison? Are Fury bites poisonous? What if they are? Is it something his hymns can heal?

“Will, you need to get out of — ah!”

The Fury pressed down and Travis’ cry became a yelp, the claw twisting and digging and making that blooming red stain grow and grow.

“Be quiet, son of Thieves. Your judgment will be arriving soon. You best be silent.”

The Fury pushed harder and Travis screamed , struggling to push the claw off as it dug deeper and deeper.

Will didn’t know when his jaw fell open but he felt it snapped closed. A dangerous red cloud washed over his thoughts. “Stop hurting him.”

Tisiphone didn’t spare him a glance and the cloud thickens to a storm.

Travis cried for him to run away, is begging him to run away.

But Will already made up his mind. Travis shouldn’t have expected anything else.

His fingers twitched, but otherwise stayed by his side. Tisiphone probably doesn't know he has a celestial weapon, safely tucked in his pocket he forgot to take out before bed. Travis’ own celestial beak lays three feet away behind the Fury. He adjusted his grip on the ice pick, getting a feel for the weight. It’s heavy in his palm. And a closer inspection revealed the end of the blade has been chipped off.

Will snagged the heel of his right shoe with the tip of his left, pulling it down to loosen it.

The Fury didn’t pay him much attention but when he shuffled with his feet, her head snapped up and blood red eyes narrowed before relaxing. She snickered. “Scared, are you?”

Scared? No. All Will hears right now is blood rushing through his ears, his heart beating in his throat, and the uncomfortable clamminess of his hands.

Okay so maybe he’s a teensy weensy bit scared, but even so—

“No, I’m not. Let him go.” His voice always remains calm even when he’s scared shitless. Something about being in countless emergencies instilled in him to sound calm at all times. Panicked medics leads to panicked patients and panicked patients mean someone (him) is going to get an accidental fist in the face. His siblings say it gives them confidence that he sounds like he knows what he’s doing. He wishes it give him confidence too. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

The Fury laughed haughtily. She glanced down at Travis with glinting eyes. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

Travis beat his fist on the arm, pleading with him all the while, “Will, please, please, please think of yourself for once in your life and run away now .”

Tisiphone looked back at him, mouth twisting into a malicious, disgusting, teeth-showing grin. “I am the Erinyes for murder. I punish those who commit blood sins. Homicide, fratricide, patricide. Do you understand where I am going?”

“He isn’t a murderer,” Will seethed. “His grandparents were an—”

Tisiphone laughed again, pressing down harder and eliciting a strangled cry from Travis. Will gritted his teeth. “You truly are the worst friend, Son of Argeiphontes.  No one can even come close to you.”

Will didn’t appreciate being ignored. “What do you mean—”

But Travis whined and bucked his hips, legs digging uselessly at Tisiphone’s hips. His head rolled back so he could the desperation clearly in his eyes and in the way his face twist. “Will, go! You’re going to die if you stay. I’m wanted alive. You’re not. Just leave me. I’ll be fine.”

“What an intelligent observation. You are more astute than I thought,” the Fury noted, but her eyes gleamed and a tongue flickered out, wetting her lips. “I am here to punish you. Phoebus’ son… he is important to you, is he not?”

And Travis is struggling with renewed fervor.

“Will, run! ”

And he did. Just not in the direction Travis wanted. The Fury grinned, the smile feral. She watched him run towards her.

He kicked his loose shoe forward and caught it in his free hand without stopping. He threw it at the Fury, who sniggered and leaned slightly to the right to avoid his horrendous throw.

Get close, get close, get close.

The fury shifted its weight and lift its clawed hand, red, beady eyes still (thankfully) on the pick.

His hand twitched as he runs closer and closer. Not yet. Not until she has no time to react.

15 feet from the Fury.

Not yet.

10 feet.

Almost there .

5 feet.

He’s going to KO this.

4 feet.

“Will, please, just stop!”

3 feet.

He threw the ax, aimed it to the side farthest from Travis in case bad luck reared with his bad aim. Too far, it seems because the fury barely had to move a couple of centimeters to the side to avoid it. Whatever. He’s close enough. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled the beak out. Tisiphone’s eyes widen but it’s too late for her.

2 feet.

The ground is still wet from the morning dew.

1 feet.

His foot slid.

The claw came flying down and Will slid right under it.

He didn’t dare look to see how close he was to being sliced open and instead focus on stabbing the beak on that very open, very unguarded calf.

His hand extended, reaching out and praying he’ll scruff it. Just one slice, even a paper-cut like scratch is enough to poof it into dust.

The beak touched the skin but it’s not enough. There’s not enough force. He can’t dig it in and he slid right underneath through with nothing to show.

Damn it!

He rolled onto his knees and scrambled to his feet. The Fury’s back is still to him. If he’s quick enough he can—

The wings snapped back and hit him in the face. Will backed away, pressing a hand against his eyes. A sting that’s quickly becoming a fire burns in his eyes. And there’s an awful taste in his mouth. Did he swallow something?

H struggled to open them, remembering this isn’t the place to have your eyes closed, and found himself no longer in the forest.

This isn’t a vision the Gods been giving him.

It feels different. He feels more grounded, more real, less dream-like.

The alley he’s in feels and even smells real. That trash dumpster seems real. Those two children seem real. And that man with the gun seems real.

He’s talking on the phone, the gun pointed at the kids.

Will shouldn’t feel like it’s worth mentioning the children were Travis and Connor. Of course it’s them. Who else can it be?

“I found them, Claire. Yeah, both of the little shits. We’re in New — fuck!”

Travis, Connor, he doesn’t know who threw something into the air between them.

It’s a backpack.

The man cursed and fired shots but it’s absorbed into the backpack, the shells disappearing. And the brothers ran forward in opposite directions.

The man cursed, took a step back, and tried to aim again but it’s too late. Connor, Travis was already by the man’s side with that ice pick in hand. Will watched the kid, a scrawny, frail, terrified kid, raise the pick and brought it down onto the wrist. It broke through the skin, sinking into the flesh.

The man screamed and dropped his gun to dislodge the embedded object. Connor, Travis bolted and picked up the gun, pointing at the man and tugging the other brother behind him.

The hand is shaky.

“Tell Mommy to stop. Tell her to leave us alone.”

The man only surged forward and the gun went off.

Then Will’s back in the forest with a smug Tisiphone leering over him.

He swung the beak out, but a claw knocked the beak out of his hand. The nails scratched his palm, barely drawing blood but causing a burning like they’re engulfed in boiling water. He’s pushed back to the tree and there’s a hand on his throat, pushing, constricting. No matter how much he kicked and pulled, the hand wasn’t loosening.

In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the fact he’s suffocating but the hand on his throat is wet, wet with blood, his friend’s blood, and Will couldn’t care about that fact right now

Tisiphone leaned in, just close enough for him to smell the stench of curdled blood and rotting bodies in her breath. “It’s so sad. Your friend has such little faith in you, yet you have complete faith in him.”

Will grunted and kicked the chest.

“Do you think he trusts you? He only trusts his brother.”

He punched the arm.

“He didn’t even tell you the full story.”

He scratched the hand.

“Yet you’re defending him like he’s worth something.”

And he spat in her face, the trickle landing on her cheeks rather than the eye he had hoped for. Horrible aim still horrible even with the demon only inches from his face.

Tisiphone didn’t react like he hoped he would. She only leaned closer and grinned wider, giving him a wondrous close-up view of her ugly teeth. “And now you’re about to die because of him.”  

The hand pressed harder and Will can start to see the black encroaching.

Shit. This is bad. This is bad.

It’s pressing and pressing and pressing and suddenly, the pressure was gone and Will can breathe . He fell to the ground, coughing and cupping his neck, massaging his abused throat. He looked up to see who saved him and of course it’s Travis.

He’s biting the calf, black blood dribbling down in rivulets. Tisiphone screeched and pulled the leg away, but Travis clung on and Will could see his jaws clench tighter. The Fury swiped a claw down on his back, tearing through the shirt and skin, but Travis continued to cling on. He opened dilated eyes to level them with Will’s, stare hard and irritated. “Go,” he growled around the calf, face twisting as he bites harder.

Don’t expect me too.

He has more powers other than his healing. But they’re not suited for continuous combat, more suited for quickly gathering attention and getting attention is something this situation really doesn’t need. But no one hurts his friends. No one. So he puts his fingers in his mouth and whistled, so sharp and shrill, Tisiphone covered her ears and Travis doing the same.

Will picked up his beak and tackled the open Fury, stabbing and twisting it deep into her arm. The last thing he saw before she turned into a pile of dust was the satisfying look of surprise. The satisfaction was only temporary as the Fury dissolve quicker than he thought and Will fell to the ground and banged his knee on the ground. He shot his hands out to catch himself, but he flinched at the sting in his injured hand when it scraped the ground. He curled it towards his chest, not bothering to look at it. The way it stung and pulsed… he really hopes it’s the adrenaline making it worse than it actually is.

In fact, he’s noticing a lot of places on his body are starting to ache. Especially around his neck.

Will admired Percy before but now it’s resolidified. Taking on a fury is exhausting and terrifying. He can’t even imagine how a 12 year old Percy must felt.

A bird cawed and Will stiffened. His whistle must have carried for miles. Every monster in the vicinity is probably converging on their spot right now. “Hey, Travis, we need to go. The monsters will be coming any second.”

Nobody answered him. Will looked around, finding Travis’ curled body a few feet away from him. He shouldn’t be that far from him. Did he move? “Travis?”

He stood and walked over to Travis who stiffened as he comes closer. He knelt by his side, grimacing at the 3 claw marks down his back. They’re oozing a lot of blood, but at least it’s not gushing.

“Travis?” he says again.

No response.

He meant to shake the shoulder lightly, but as soon as his hand touched skin, he pulled back in alarm.

Hot, his skin was hot to the touch… and the bite… Will can’t see much through the stained shirt, but it’s definitely not red like blood should be. It is bleeding a black pus that Will with all his medical expertise knows is not a good sign.

He swallowed, looked to the sky for a bit. Relax. Stay calm. Remember your lessons.

“Travis, tell me how you’re —”

“Will.” His head snapped down. Travis’ face is still into the dirt, but Will could have sworn he heard him call his name. “Yeah?” he says hesitantly as he lowered his face to hear better.

“Did you summon that Chimera?”

“Chimera?”

And Travis rolled onto his back, much to Will’s dismay. Don’t do that. Your wounds can get infected. He isn’t looking him in the eye, but at the sky. There’s a shakiness to his voice, a desperateness to them, like he’s admitting a great sin.

“When we still had the chariot. Did you summon that Chimera?”

Will blinked once, not understanding. Did he summon a chimera? To strike them down? What? Is he mishearing? “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Then what about that hellhound? The leucrotta? Did you summon those?”

“I… No. I don’t summon monsters ever,” he answers unsurely. “Where are you going with — I mean… I don’t understand why you’re—”

“Why didn’t you run when I told you too? Why don’t you ever listen to me?” Travis said, eyes closing tightly, and Will shuts up. Why?

“Because you were in danger,” he answered.

There’s a barely audible sigh, shaky and stuttering. Travis peeled his eyes open, eyes rolling to the other side. He pulled himself to his feet, shakily and trembling, and tried to walk away.

Will stood after him and grabbed the wrist. “What are you doing?”

Travis tore his wrist away, shaking his head. “Back to Jupiter. Back to Connor. He’s in trouble. I have to get back to Jupiter.”

“You can barely stand,” Will noted, eyeing the way Travis is swaying back and forth. His breathing is labored and with his hand on the wrist, he could feel how high of a pulse Travis has. “You can’t travel like this.”

Travis only turned around and mumbled a nonreassuring ‘I’m fine,’ before he started stumbling away. Will hold on to the wrist again, this time with more insistence. “You can’t, Travis. You’re too sick to—”

With speed that Will didn’t think Travis had, shouldn’t have in that state, he spun around and laid a firm hand on his shoulder. Something metal and solid rested lightly on his chest and when Will looked down, he sees the chipped ice pick. When had Travis gone to retrieve it?

“Will.”

Will picked his eyes up to Travis’, his mind blanking for a second when he saw the stormy blue.

Travis is… Travis is seething. So many emotions brewed in those eyes. They’re like a cauldron, new and more items being tossed in. He’s smoldering and raging and burning, but beneath the turbulent front, he could see fear. He’s scared and the hand on his shoulder trembles the way his eyes do.

“Connor needs me. I rather die than let him suffer. Stop getting in my way.”

Will didn’t cower. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

Travis leaned in, till the only thing Will can see is the blue hues in his eyes, could see all the grooves and crevices, could see the way they tremble. Narrowed. Distrustful.

“They won’t kill me.”

“But they can hurt you.”

Travis glowered and tried to walk away, but Will got in front of him again and hold him back lightly by the shoulders. “Stop, Travis. You’re not in a condition to walk.”  

Travis was going to say something, but his eyes rolled back and he’s falling forward. Will caught him easily enough, grunting as he lowered Travis onto the ground and rest his head on his lap.

Shit, shit, shit, Will muttered under his breath as he pushed the soaked hair back. My ABCs. Remember my ABCs. Airway, Breathing, Circulation. Airway. Breathing. Circulation. Travis’ eyes are screwed shut and he’s panting, chest rising. His pulse is erratic, weak. And his skin is burning now. What is his temperature? 104? 105?

He needs to lower the fever.

Something wet trickled down his hand and he jerked it back. It was blood.

Shit, he forgot the Fury torn into Travis’ back. With care, he rolled Travis onto his side with the good shoulder, using the arm to pillow his head.

Will pulled the tattered shirt back to check the wounds, grimacing at the dirt that’s caked around the blood. He needs to clean that now if he doesn’t want to deal with an infection. Then there’s the bite. There’s black veins encircling the punctures, already a few centimeters wide that definitely sends SOS signals to his brain. They pulsed underneath his fingers.

Oh gods, Will couldn’t help say as he wiped his hand on the ground.

This isn’t good.

He needs to lower the fever. He needs to clean the bite. He needs to disinfect the wounds. He needs to do so many fucking things and he doesn’t have anything to actually do those things. Where’s the magic backpack? Did Travis take it with him when he left? Or is still inside the— leaves rustled and Will’s head snapped up. Legs trembling, he left Travis’s side and picked up his beak.

He waited, heart in his throat, but nothing came out. And Will sighed, tucking his beak back into his pocket.

They can’t stay out here. What should he do? What should he do? How long does it take to heal from a Furies’ poison? Hours? Days? Never ?

What are the effects of Furies’ poison? Are there any lasting consequences? Like blindness? Loss of nerve cells? Loss of all brain function?!

Oh gods, oh my gods. Oh. My. Gods.

Will.

Will froze at the call of his name. That voice is familiar, very, very familiar. “Dad?” he said shakily. The gods are against them. But his father couldn’t possibly be out to get them, could he?

Could he?

Will swallowed the knot in his throat. “Dad...if you’re not going to help both of us, don’t...don’t bother.”

He waited.

The leaves swayed, the birds sung, and Travis whimpered behind him.

Nobody spoke.

Will turned around, eyes burning — is his father really not going to help him?— but the voice is back in his head.

Go to the tent. It’s monster-proof.

That’s not dad’s voice.

His father wasn’t going to help him.

Fine.

So be it.

Will walked back and lifted Travis by the armpits but the keen whine made Will lowered him back down. He bit his lips, looking around for any monsters before running back to the tent and coming back out with the sleeping bag bunched in his arms. He rolled Travis onto the cloth more roughly than he should in his haste, wincing at the pained yelp.

I’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry.

He dragged him into the tent and hurried to zip up the flap. He had barely taken his hands off the zipper when the sound of cans toppling came from behind him.

Will spun around to see Travis, kneeling and gasping, cupping his shoulder. The toppled cans scattered among the floor.

Will cursed and knelt by his side, the tent’s wrinkling under his weight. Travis’ head shot up, eyes wide, dilated, terrified . A fist swung out, but Will caught it easily and cupped it in his hands. “Travis, it’s okay. You’re safe,” he said softly.

Will watched the fear dispersed and the shoulders slumped as Travis slunk sideways into his lap. A hand fisted into his khakis. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into his pants.

“It’s fine,” Will said. His fingers twitched to the bloodied back but didn’t make contact.

The fist tighten. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Will stressed, “Tell me where it hurts the most. Or better yet, take off your shirt so I can see —”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Take off your shirt.  I’m going to heal —”

Travis starts shaking and the fist pulled his khakis taut. There’s a wetness seeping into his pant. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Connor. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m Will.”

But Travis only continued to mumble his brother’s name. The mumblings dissolve into incoherent phrases. Will grits his teeth. Whatever, he’ll just move the shirt himself to make room. He slips his hand under the shirt and places a hand on the back, in the center of the scratches, and chant.

But nothing happened.

Bewildered, Will retract his hand. He stared at it, at the blood spotting his palm and pads. No . He tried again, resting it on the back and trying again. And again. And again.

It’s not closing.

It’s not closing.

It’s not fucking closing.

He looks at his other hand, the hand the fury scratched. There’s a single, red line, blood beading along some parts. Will chants for himself, eyes widening when the scratch remains as red as ever.

You have got to be…  

He clenched his hand, acknowledging the sting. The wound is real. He’s not imagining this. Why isn’t it healing? Fury magic? Then… the bite…

Will placed his hand on the bite mark and sang.

Travis screamed. He screamed and thrashed and writhed and wailed. The second it took for his brain to register the scream and order his hand to retract was much too long.

Shit shit shit shit fuck shit fucking shit i’m so stupid i’m so stupid i’m so stupid

With shaking hands, Will rolled Travis onto his back, panic rising when he realized he passed out. He shoved his fingers under the neck and his heart stopped for a moment when he couldn’t feel a pulse. That is until he realized he’s two centimeters too far from the artery and readjusted. But feeling the pulse — erratic, loud— did nothing to relieve his panic. I hurt him.

Will squeezed his eyes shut and took a shaky breath before carefully lowering Travis back onto the sleeping bag.

He grabbed the nearest chip bag from the toppled stack, open it without looking, and down it, faintly realizing he’s crunching on nuts. ( I hurt him.)

Will pulled the backpack to him, retrieving an overabundance of towels. He grimaced at the state of Travis’ shirt. It’s ruined and torn beyond repair. Should he just throw it away? Yes, he should.

Gently, Will use the beak to cut through the fabric. He slid it out under Travis and grimaced at the puncture wounds on the chest.

That’s right, Tisiphone had dug its claws in his chest. ( I hurt him.)

Will wished he had stabbed the beak somewhere it’ll hurt more. Like the eye or the mouth or up the nose. Somewhere where it’ll burn a lot more than the arm. ( I hurt him.)

He drowned the towels with water and eyed the bite, clenching the towel and wondering if it’ll hurt if he were to gently dab on the —Travis groaned.

Yes, it’ll hurt to clean it.

But he has too.

And Will gritted his teeth. Travis will just have to endure it. ( I hurt him.)

I’m sorry.

Will wished he had stabbed the beak where it'll hurt more.

“I hurt him.”

His vision blurred and Will groaned. He shoved the heel of his hand into his eyes, pushing the tears back. Not now. Go away.

But they just blur more and more and soon it’ll leak and turn into an all-out bawl.

That voice he hates comes back, nagging him, questioning him, sprouting the truths he doesn’t want to hear. You hurt him. You failed as a medic. You can’t heal him. You’re worthless. You’re—

“I know.” Will gritted his teeth and went back to sponging. “I know I suck. I suck big time. I’m the worst of the worse. I’m—” But he falters.

Stop thinking you can’t and start thinking you can.

And his fist tighten. “I’m trying.”  

The voice said it was monster proof but to actually see it in action is incredible.  

Will snapped his head up from a doze when a shadow fell across the tent. It’s humongous. The shadow encompassed an entire side and the clarity of the lines tell him this monster isn’t far away.

No, they’re most likely right beside them.

With a shaky hand, Will grabbed the beak.

He’s ready. He’s ready. He can kill monsters by himself, no problem. When they break inside, he’ll leap out and stab them all before they could even realize what’s happening.

The monster — is it a chimera? Hellhound? — nudged the tent with its paw and Will raised the beak, willing his arms to just stop quivering for a goddamn second.

The monster nudged the tent again, this time with its head and the tent shook violently.

It clawed at the tent—Will clenched his weapon—but it didn’t rip. It pounced on top of it but it didn’t give. And most remarkably, the monster—Will now recognizing it as a chimera—tried to light them on fire but it didn’t catch.

Monster-proof.

This tent is really monster-proof.

Will swallowed. The tent is monster-proof. It’s ladled with nonperishable food and water. It’s every demigod’s dream. There’s no fear being ambushed or fending off monsters. It’s almost like ...

Will looked back.

Travis’s still unconscious, groaning sometimes.

Will leaned over and brushed the matted bangs aside, eyes sweeping over the body for any injuries he might have missed.

He didn’t spot any, barred from the glaring black pus oozing bite on the shoulder.

Will grazed his knuckles across the cheek, muttering a soothing chant and hoping it’ll lower the fever.

He doesn’t think it works, but it’s good to always try. Maybe the fury magic will wear off.

Will drowsed a towel with water and laid it on Travis’s forehead. There’s a dull throbbing in his neck that a quiet chant soothes. He rested his head on his arm, one hand free to thread through a deck of cards.

Solitaire doesn’t sound too boring.  

You’re going to die.

You can’t make it out of here.

Heed my words, shepherd of souls.

Interstate 5, road 67, car crash.

Cabin, management, lamia.

2 mile, south, empousa.

Your fate is sealed. But you have a choice.

He doesn’t have to die with you too.

Will jolted awake.

He rubbed his eyes blearily, the weird, number-listing dream already fading from his mind. What the heck was that about… Yawning, he checked Travis’ condition. Still burning a fever. He applied a new towel.

The sun is high in the sky. It’s only noon. If Travis can pull out of the fever, they can still make it back to the tourist route.

A bird screeched and the tent bounced side to side.

Yawning again, Will laid back down.

He guessed another nap wouldn’t hurt him.

Don’t be selfish. Let him go. No one has to die with you.

Don’t be selfish.

Don’t be selfish.

Don’t be selfish.

Will snapped his eyes open.

He guessed he’s done with naps.

Magic items are tons of fun, Will mused as he pulled out a volleyball, a baseball, a soccer ball, a golf ball in quick succession. It doesn’t look like there’s a time limit like Leo’s bag has.

Golf stick, Hockey stick, badminton bat.

Although in terms of usefulness, it’s not much.

Kneecaps, swimming cap, a visor.

Unless…

Boxing gloves, snow goggles, skies.

Unless he’s not being creative enough.

And he pulled a bicycle out of the bag, gasping at it fell on top of him. “I guess competitive cycling is a sport,” he wheezes as he shoves it back inside the endless backpack.

“Hey, don’t treat my stuff so roughly. It’ll break.”

Will jerked and spun around to see Travis, alert and smiling a lopsided, goofy grin, on his side with the good shoulder. With a smile, Will tossed the backpack aside and crawled on his knees towards Travis. “You’re awake! Great. Do you feel up to leaving? It’s not safe to stay here.”

But the closer he got, he realized something is wrong and it’s not just the hazy, unfocused gaze in his eyes. His body is tensed, taut and before Will could look closer, Travis is propelling himself right into him. Will is pushed onto his back, his head knocking the ground not so gently. Hands dug into his shoulder and a head nuzzled into the dip of his collarbone, soft hair tickling his nose. Heat pooled in his stomach that Will isn’t entirely sure is from the sudden proximity.

“Will. Will~ William. Willy. Will,” Travis chirped into his chest.  

“What is it?” Will gasped, struggling to sit up and failing as Travis hummed, face still pressed in his shirt. He should not be having this much trouble wrestling a fever-stricken, severely injured man off him but here he is. Maybe he should have taken Annabeth’s daily offer to the gym. This is embarrassing.

Somehow he manhandled Travis onto his back again, taking care not to disturb his wounds. This whole process would have been significantly easier if Travis didn’t cling to him like a koala. He managed to tear the hands off his shirt and with a hand cupping the neck, lowered Travis on his back.

The back of his hand brushed against Travis’ forehead. Will frowned at the warmth and reached for the extra towels he taken out. Travis tried to sit up, but Will immediately pushed him back. “No, Travis, you need to rest.”

Travis giggled, but thankfully listened and let himself be pushed down. Will sighed in relief and pulled away, but Travis held tight to his right hand. Will frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Travis shook his head and giggled again. He didn’t let go of the hand. It makes wetting the towel and applying it to his head very difficult.

“Will~” he drawled out with a goofy, wide smile.

“Yeah?”

“Will, who do you like?”

“You already know that,” grunts Will as he tries and fails to uncap a water bottle. “Travis, let go of my hand. You need to drink some wa—”

“Try and guess my crush.”

“No, let go of my hand.” But Travis held fast and even pouted, cheeks puffed out adorably. Will sighed, looking to the heavens. Hermes help me deal with your child. Will looked down and decided to humor him. “Katie?”

Travis laughed and his eyes twinkled. “Nope, try again.”

“Miranda?”

“No, I’ll give you a hint. He’s blond.”

Will blinked in surprise. “Blond?”

There’s no blond boy in Demeter cabin.

“Yes, he has blue eyes.”

Will wracked his brain. Blond hair… blue eyes… “Is it— I mean, Jason is blond and blue-eyed.” A lot of people like the Son of Jupiter. Will included when he first saw him. How could anybody not like Jason?

Travis continued, “He has a bright smile and a caring heart.”

That’s definitely Jason and for some strange reason, the picture of Travis with Jason makes his chest tight. “So it’s Jason. I can’t blame you. He is pretty hand—”

Travis pouted again, letting go of his hand to latch on to the collar of his camp shirt and pulling with a surprising amount of strength. Will slammed out a hand in time to avoid banging Travis with his head. Apollo knows what will happen if he gives Travis a concussion as he fights the poison in his body as well.

“What the heck was that…” Will started, but then his eyes focused and he realizes just how close they are. Their noses are lightly brushing, a light sensation that almost tickles. And Will could feel every inhale, exhale, catching a whiff of the sugary sweet Strawberry Poptarts.

But Travis’ eyes, boring into his with a strange sort of intensity, didn’t tickled, weren’t sweet or soft. Instead they electrified him, something shooting down his spine that leaves his nerves tingling. And while they’re still like this, face to face, Travis said, “No, you dimwit, I like you.”

You.

“...Me?” Will says weakly. Me? Me?! What?

What?

Travis grinned. “Yeah. You.”

Is this lightheadedness suppose to be normal after a confession? What is he supposed to say? Is Travis even the right mind to be saying this?

What if it’s the fever making him say this? What if he’s pulling his leg?

Will swallowed hard and pulled himself up. Travis lets go of his shirt, but his hand snaked down to cling to the bottom. “I liked you for a really, really long time. I always admired how caring you are. Everybody loves you at camp. You try so hard for everybody, even for people like me and Connor who bothered you every day. You have the prettiest eyes and the sweetest smiles and kindest words. And gods, sometimes I’m so jealous of Nico.”

Will’s mind was short-circuiting. His years of handling emergency, quick thinking situations was doing nothing for him at this moment. When someone confessed… you either say “I like you too” or “I don’t like you” right? Right. Come on. Say it, Will. Say that you — which is it? What is he supposed to say? Like? Dislike? I don’t know?

Oh gods, Travis is staring at him. He needs to say something. He gotta say something.

And he said what he thought of first. “I — You — you’re hysterical, Travis. You’re not thinking clearly.”

That wasn’t an answer.

But Travis took it as an answer. His eyes softened and Will could see him deflate a little. “I knew you liked Nico since forever, so I didn’t want to bother trying. But since I’m going to die soon, I thought might as well. Connor owed me $10 bucks now for confessing. Did you know he bet me I’m too chicken to confess? I’m no chicken. I’m a falcon. Powerful, strong, maje—I’m thirsty. Can you pass me water? I don’t feel like I can get up.”

Will paled. Die? What does he mean by that?

“Hey, Will, can you sing? I want to hear a song.”

Will asked, “What do you mean? You’re not going to die, Travis.”

Travis’ eyes cleared for a second and Will cursed himself. That was a question.

“I’ve been getting dreams of dying. It changes every time. Car crash, drowning, falling. Do you think they’re dreams? I hope they’re dreams.”

Will’s mouth went dry. Car crash? He dreamt something about a car crash too. Could it just be a coincidence? He clenched his fist. What a joke. Nothing is ever a coincidence. He knows better. Demigod dreams aren’t ever just dreams.

Travis was already gone, talking about his brother’s inability to sing. Will snagged a water bottle from the pile and twisted it.

Travis wasn’t going to die.

He wasn’t going to die.

He’ll die himself before he lets that happen.

Travis remained awake since his … confession? Revelation? Admission? Statement? Statement.

His moods flopped between ridiculously, almost drunkenly happy to an unnerving, brooding silence where he does nothing but stares at the ceiling.

One is definitely worse than the other.

“Hey, Travis…”

No answer.

“Do you want some water? You need to stay hydrated.”

Travis shook the half-empty bottle he gave him earlier. Will waited for him to drink it, but it remained unopened and rather than push, Will leaned back and sighed.

Tearing into his fifth packet of trail mix, Will looked at the last trickling light seeping into their tent. The sun is setting.

They wasted an entire day. He wondered if Connor is alright. He’s in Camp Jupiter, isn’t he? He should be safe. Unlike them.

Coughing made him turn around in distress. Travis, sitting up on his elbow and spilled water all around him, hacked like he was dying. Maybe he was dying. Will crawled over to his side and raised a hand but Travis tensed and he stopped.

The cough subsided and Will watched Travis sank back into his sleeping bag with a miserable silence.

“... you could have asked me to help you. I wouldn’t have mind,” he muttered, picking up the now empty water bottle and cleaning the spill with the towels.

“I would have,” was the mumbled response.

Well, I wouldn’t have , Will almost screamed, but he bit his lip. Somehow he felt like if he just raised his voice, even just move too fast, something will break. And right now, he isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing with Travis’ current frame of mind.  

See this is why he wants to be a general practitioner and not a psychologist. His insensitivity and impatience to say what is on his mind will probably scar his patients and mar his reputation within a week or two.

Will snagged a new water bottle from the pile, twisting it open and tightening the lid. He placed it within arms reach from Travis. “Yeah. Well, here’s some more water. Remember to stay hydrated.”

Will sat back down on his sleeping bag and watched from the side as Travis reached forward and gripped the bottle. He didn’t move to sit up, didn’t move to drink. And almost unnoticeably, there’s a tremble in his shoulder and his curling into a ball and the bottle crunches from his tightening hold and there’s sniffling and oh, Will realized with a falling stomach, he’s crying. Travis is crying.

Will moved to be closer, maybe offer a shoulder, but a cracking voice breaking the silence halted him.

“Why did you give me water?”

Will’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why? Because… it’s important to stay hydrated when you’re sick?”

Wrong thing to say because the sniffling grew louder and it’s now punctuated with hiccuping breathes. Will moved closer and laid a hand on the back and rubbed what he hoped are comforting circles.

“Hey,” he cooed, unsure of what’s troubling Travis. He went for the obvious. “I… I know what you’re going through must be terrifying, but you have me. We’ll get out of here and make it back to Camp Jupiter. Then I’m sure Chiron will figure something out. Everything will be alright.”

Travis shook his head. “Tisiphone was right. I’m the worst friend ever.”

Will scowled. Tisiphone. Just thinking of that demon bitch brings a sour taste to his mouth. “You’re wrong. She’s wrong. You’re a good per—”  

Then Travis rolled onto his back and yeah, he is crying, tears flowing down the side as he looked up to Will. Earlier his eyes held sparks, bright enough to electrified him. Now they’re dim, dull, a faint, feeble spark close to dying out and Will want nothing more than to wipe that look from existence.

“I’ve been lying to you this whole time and I’ve been keeping secrets from you. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Will stressed, even though he’s sure it’s probably not fine. “I don’t mind.”

Travis closed his eyes and cried. “Don’t say that. You don’t know anything. Our mom wants us dead because I killed Jamie.”

Jamie… their half-brother?

“I was seven. I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know why we weren’t supposed to touch phones. I didn’t know anything at all. I only saw something that mom said was off-limits to us but not to everybody else. I just wanted to see what’s so special about it. But because I— I— I have to see what it does. A monster came. Jamie was only 4. He couldn’t do anything. He, he, he was eaten because of me. Connor is in danger because of me. You’re in danger because of me. Everything is because of me.”

Oh, Travis, that’s not your—

“We ran away. I ran away rather than face my punishment and hid at Camp Half Blood for all those years. I should have died there with Jamie. Connor should have just left me rather than pull me away. I should have just let myself be captured by all those people mom sent after us. Maybe you wouldn’t be here if I had been a little bit selfless.”

“Travis, don’t...don’t say that. I don’t want you to…” the words wouldn’t come out.

And finally, Travis let his hands fall, and his eyes went to Will. Even though they were hazy and unclear, Will’s heart broke at the anguish. Oh Travis…

“Dad told me we weren’t supposed to be alive. That both me and Connor were supposed to die that day. But he protected us and led us to Camp Half Blood. We weren’t important like Luke so he thought he could try. He tried to change our fate. That’s why Zeus is so angry with him. But you can’t escape fate. Luke showed me that. We’re still going to die by our mother’s hands. You don’t have to die with us.”

Fate… Will intertwined his fingers with Travis’, bringing them to his chest. “We control our fates.” No one else does.

Travis’ eyes rolled back to him and they’re so scared and hurt .

“I’m not, I won’t, you’re not going to die. I won’t let her kill you,” Will said firmly.

“You can’t change fate. The thread is already cut.” The utter bleakness in his voice a stinging cut.

Stop thinking you can’t and start thinking you can. Will tightened his hand. “I’ll tape more yarn onto the end. There’s always something you can do.”

Travis’ eyes are sliding shut. But Will hold onto his hands, bringing it up to his head. “I’ll figure something out. I promise.”

And he clenched his eyes, hands tightening around Travis’.

“I won’t let you end this way.”

He embraced his dreams this time rather than push it away. He sees Annabeth and the brothers again on that snowy alley. She held out her hand and said in her squeaky 7-year-old voice, “She can't get in. You’ll be safe. I promise.”

Then Will is moving forward. He’s in Manhattan. He sees Travis standing at the edge between Morpheus’ spell and where time slowed down. Travis is staring at the barrier, mouth flapping and hands shaking, and Will followed his gaze to the woman standing at the edge but he’s moving again before he could get a better look.

Now he’s in Camp Half Blood. Connor and Travis, they’re sitting on top of the trees. There’s sunlight streaming down and hitting Travis in all the right ways that make him look like a charming prin— “We need to leave. She knows we’re in New York,” Connor said, interrupting his line of thought.

Something is being passed to Connor, a pocket knife he realized. Travis smiled wryly. “Yeah, yeah, I got you. Trust no one and nothing. Let’s make this a clean break, okay? Annabeth or Chris shouldn’t be dragged into this. This is our problem.”

Then again he’s moving and he sees them again but this time sitting on the roof of Hermes Cabin. It’s dark out. Certainly past curfew yet Connor is twirling the pocket knife and Travis is humming like nothing is wrong.

“I talked with Nico to let you pilot. But your navigator is Will. Will you be okay? Do you want flirting tips?”

And Travis spluttered, aiming a kick at Connor who only laughed and kicked back. “I’m joking. I’m joking. I’ll be waiting for you at Camp Jupiter. Be safe, okay? Oh and Travis? I heard Will doesn’t like ramblers so try to keep a lid on the rambling.”

He’s moved forward to recent times. He can see himself sleeping on the sleeping bag, still with the splint on, and Travis is there, staring at his body. Just… staring at his body, the deck of cards still in his hand.

Then again, he sees himself asleep on the ground. There’s a hellhound coming towards his unconscious body and in the trees is Travis. Doing nothing but staring as the hellhound come closer and closer to his defenseless form. Why is he just — then Travis leaped down and whistled, drawing an ice pick from the backpack.

He’s in the trees again but this time it’s when he’s dangling 25 feet above the air. Travis is again watching him from the branch he sat. Doing nothing but watching as he struggled and eventually fell to the yipping leucrota below. Why is he just watching me struggle?

And now, they’re in the tent. The toboggan is off to the side with him face down and snoring into the bag. Travis is staring at him. His hand raised, paused, before continuing to pat down his pockets and unhook his shoes. It’s like he’s doing a body check. A body check… why? It’s not like he has anything to hide. Travis didn’t find what he’s looking forward. His brows creased and he sighed, plopping onto his back.

“Welp. There goes my theory. Guess you’re clean. Unless someone is speaking to you through your head. Which in that case, I’m screwed. Help me out here, Will. I know you’re awake. Which side are you on? Mine or Claire’s?” When he didn’t get an answer, Travis laughed eerily and stand up to stretch. “Of course you won’t answer. You’re not dumb enough to answer.”

And Will woke up to someone shaking his shoulder. Will blinked blearily, picking up his head to look around. it took a while for his eyes to adjust to the dark, the moonlight helping some. But that shadow looming above him is definitely Travis and his eyes are definitely focusing on him and not at all hazy.

Will sat up fully, euphoria blossoming. “You’re up!”

Travis didn’t say anything. He just cupped his shoulder with his hand and looked at Will with such wonder and confusion with those blue, beautifully aware eyes. “You… saved me.”

“Of course I would. You’re my friend, Travis.”

“Friend…” Travis muttered under his breath. His eyes lingered on his throat and a hand rose to pull the collar down a bit. “Your neck… it looks bad.”

“It’s just bruising. Nothing really bad.”

Will looked outside. It doesn’t appear to be daybreak yet. Could they still travel in the dark? It’s been around 72 hours since they left Camp Half Blood. The people at Camp Jupiter must have noticed something is wrong by now. He hoped they send someone to get them.

Travis tugged on his sleeve and Will directed his attention back to him. He’s swallowing hard and fidgeting with his hands, eyes not meeting Will as they dart around the ground. “Will, I need to tell you something about my mom. She’s out to get me and Connor because we ki — ki — killed— ” Travis groaned and rubbed the palm of his hand against his eyes. “Why is it so hard to say?”

“I know about Jamie. You told me when you were kind of hysterical,” Will said, adding what he couldn’t say back then, “I don’t think it was your fault. You were a kid. You didn’t know that would happen.”

And Travis lowered his head. “I’m sorry. You’re in danger because of me.”

Will winced at the dejected tone and bumped Travis’ shoulder with his. “I’m okay with it. I got to know you a lot better because of this. Don’t be upset.” When Travis didn’t raise his head, Will nudged him again. “Come on. I really don’t mind.”

Travis only nodded and sank back down into his sleeping bag without a word, turning his back to him and Will resisted groaning at his lack of reassuring words. Today is not his day. What should he do? Push the issue? Let it be? Deal with it in the morning? Let him sleep?

He’s good at pushing the issues. He knows he’s good at that but is that always the right way to do it?

Apparently not based on these last couple of days with his insistent questioning of parents and childhood.

Will pulled his sleeping bag up beside Travis, noting how Travis didn’t shuffle away and laid down on his back. 5 hour till dawn. That seems like enough sleep to fuel up on and Will closed his eyes to let the tempting hands of sleep pull him to slumber, but a voice broke through those light touches.

You need to get away from him, Will. It’s his father’s voice and when Will processed those words, his blood boiled.

“No.”

If you stay with him, you’ll die.

“Better to die for a friend than live as a deserter.”

She may care about who she kills but the monsters won’t. The minor gods won’t.

“If you’re not going to help me then fuck off.”

Travis snickered and rolled over to face him. Will can see that impish grin he didn’t know he missed so much. “Hey, you okay? Talking to yourself is a sign of the insane, you know?”

Will rolled to his side too and wrapped Travis’s hands with his. He ignored the way Travis reddened and spluttered, and instead focus on his eyes.

They’re sparkling and full of life again. Not at all like the dejected, fearful, tired glints they were. He’s not going to let Claire or monsters or any gods for that matter snuff that out ever again.

“I’m not going to leave you, Travis. I’ll show you you can trust me. We’re going to get through this together.”

Travis chuckled hesitantly, confusion marking on his face. “You’re kind of scaring me. What gotten into you? Are you possessed? Do I need to get an exorcist?”

But he squeezed Will’s hand and smiled softly.

Okay, I’ll believe you.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Bite

His sleep was peaceful. Something he’ll never, ever take for granted again for as long as he lives.

When the sun broke the horizons, his internal alarm clock blared. He rose, yawning and rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eye.

“Good morning, Trav—”

He hesitated.

Rubbed his eye.

Squinted.

Rubbed his eyes again then slammed his hand down on the sleeping bag beside him.

It went flat.

A breeze wafted in from the open zipper.

And his blood ran cold.

Again. It’s happening again .

Will kicked the cover off, grabbed his beak, a can of whatever, bolted out the tent and tripped immediately over Travis crouched in front of the exit.

Will heard a sharp yelp as he tumbled forward and kissed the ground, hands going out to level out the impact but the moment his palm, the one scratched, made contact with the forest floor it burned. A pain that’s 1000 times worse than stubbing his toe and he ricocheted back, curling his hand close to his chest.

He heard a hiccup and his eyes snapped up and behind to see Travis pulling himself to his feet, a hand swiping across his cheek. He flashed a quivering smile and tried to laugh but it’s stilted, stiff, unnatural.

“Dude, what’s the rush? Do you have to pee or something?” Travis said, the imitation of bubbliness jarring from his actual happy go lucky pep.

Will stood.

Travis is getting better at masking, face melding into something more lax, more jovial, more familiar. But Will knew what he saw.

“You were crying.”

“What? No, I wasn’t.”

It would have been a lot more convincing if his voice didn’t crack at the end.

“Yes, you were.” Will took a step towards Travis and Travis took two steps back.

For a short second, their eyes met. Guilt, shame, trepidation cycle through those cerulean irises before Travis swallowed and looked away. He jutted a hand behind him, an awful cheer in his voice as he said, “Let’s go back inside. It’s not safe out here. You would not believe the amount of monsters this morning.”

The dreams from last night, of being patted down, of Travis watching him struggle, his adamant refusal to being healed, to accepting any help and that question he asked. To Tisiphone. In that dream.

「 “is he working for her?”」

And it all clicked into place.

“You don’t trust me,” Will said flatly.

Travis stiffened, smile tightening. He uttered a stiff laugh but Will didn’t change his expression.

“What? Of course—”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to lie. I don’t mind,” he said, “I could understand why and I think it’s actually smart to be cautious.”

For the longest time, they just stared at each other, eye to eye.

Unblinking.

Unmoving.

Not even a twitch.

Then Travis’s eyebrows furrowed and his head tilted a bit to the side and he’s confused. “You’re… not lying. You’re serious. You’re really serious.”

His eyes fell to his neck and they lingered there. “You… you…”

Travis closed his eyes and sighed. He sighed and turned away. He turned away and turn back.

His eyes are open and they stared straight at him with an intensity that could rival Annabeth’s. Travis took a deep breath and with the most straightforward tone Will heard ever, said. “You are the literally the dumbest person I know.”

Travis continued without pause. “Literally the dumbest. And the stupidest. And the weirdest. Nobody can compare to you.”

His head lowered. “You are the definition of dumb.”

His hands clenched. “You're the idiot of idiots. The dummy of dummies.”

“You…” Then his voice cracked. Then there was a pause where Travis dug his nails into his palms and inhale sharply. Then there was a moment where Travis couldn’t control his breathing but decided to go through with it. “You’re the dumbest person e-ever.”

“Travis?” Will said softly.

“You...you really are the— really are the—”

And Will blinked as Travis strode to him. He grasped his shoulders firmly and shook them none too gently.

“What is wrong with you? Is Dad controlling you? Is that why you’re doing this? Saying these things? You nearly died so many times, Will. You almost got eaten. You almost got strangled. You almost fell to your death. All because of me and yet you’re still acting like my friend. I… I don’t get it. Why do you…”

Will frowned, glancing at Travis’s trembling hands on his shoulder. He took the wrists in his hands and held them steady. His palm stung in protest, but he refused to ease up.

Travis’s head raised a bit, enough for Will to see his eyes and they’re bright with unshedded tears. He squeezed his wrists, waiting till Travis stared back at him eye to eye. There’s no uncertainty, no doubt in his voice only absolute sincerity when he said, “I’m not acting like your friend. I am your friend.”

Travis squeezed his eyes shut. “Why. After all I put you through. You should hate me.”

“Well, you also saved my sorry ass several times so I think it evens out.”

Travis swallowed, breathing becoming more ragged. He inches forward, face burrowing into the crook of his shoulder.

“You’re so dumb,” came a voice, staggered and muffled against his shirt.

Mirthlessly Will smiled, a hand going to pat the back of  Travis’s head. He let his cheek rest on messy hair.

“It’s going to be okay.”

And Travis clung tighter, hands curling into his shirt.

“I’m an ugly crier aren’t I?”

“Mm.” Will dabbed gently at the back wound with a towel, flinching when Travis winced. He muttered a sorry and dabbed more gently. They sat crossed legged in the tent. Travis with his shirt off and Will behind him.

“Everybody says I’m an ugly crier,” Travis continued, picking at a thread from his discarded shirt.

“You do loud cry,” Will said, reaching for a new towel.

He bit his cheek. The wound definitely looked worse than yesterday. If the oozing pus and moldy smell is anything to go by, it's probably infected. He hovered his hand over the lacerations and chanted.

Nothing.

Not that he expected it to.

He turned to the shoulder and that is definitely not better. It's really stinky actually. He dabbed at it gingerly and Travis did more than wince. Will swallowed and steeled himself. The wound has to be clean. There’s no getting around that fact.

Travis shifted, curling in on himself. Slight shivers ran through his body every once and while and Will watched the back rise and fall, counting in his head. His respiration rate is above normal. So is his pulse. A simple hand to the forehead (Travis’s breath hitched) confirmed he still has a high fever. Even though he’s functioning and exhibit no signs of confusion, Will would have preferred if Travis remained bedlocked for a few more days. But those are days they don't have.

Travis fidgeted with his shirt again. He kept his eyes down and from the side, Will could see him biting his cheek. “Will, the way you spoke last night… You know everything, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You know what I did to Jamie.”

“Yeah.”

“You know how Jamie died.”

“Mmhm.”

“You know why my mom is after me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you still want to stick with me.”

“Yup.”

“You’re a dummy.” But it’s said with the faintest of smiles and Will bopped him on the head with an empty wrapper.

“Pass me towels and jump ropes. I’m going to—”

“About that… here. These work better.” Travis held up gauze, rolls of adhesive tape, antibiotic ointment, and brown patches.

Will took them carefully, rolling them over in his hands. He doesn’t know what the brown patches are for but the other three…  They looked legit. But what sport used—Sports medicine. Of course. Every sport has a first aid kit on hand. It's a necessity, but what about the—

“The patches are for you.”

Will picked his head up to find Travis looking back over his shoulder.

“They help with muscle aches. You stick it where it hurts.”

Oh.

Will blinked in surprise. “Thank you. That’s very… considerate of you.”

“No problem…o, Willy-o.” And Travis did a very unnecessary wink and finger gun in his direction and the sappiness left just as quickly as it came as Will shook his head.

“That was awful. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I thought it was pretty great.”

Will wrapped the back and shoulder in silence while Travis drummed his fingers on the ground, humming a really awful, tone-deaf tune.

It’s horrible, out of tune, and no rhythm at all.

But it’s lively, energetic, a definite sign that he’s alive . And Will definitely take ear-shattering humming over none every day.

When the last gauze was laid and the tape rolled, Will leaned back to check his handiwork. Deeming it good enough, he shoved the remaining supplies into his pocket.

And with help, Travis slipped his shirt back on. Will never noticed (probably because he never looked and Travis always have his shirt on and the one time it was off was last night when he was panicking) but Travis is fit. Like really, really fit. Incredibly fit. Not well built like ‘biceps-to-die-for’ Jason but Travis has the runner’s physique. Toned calves. Sharp abdomen. Shapely thighs.

Will supposed he could see why Travis was always #1 in their summer Olympics track racing.

“Hey.”

Will picked his eyes up to find Travis staring at him. He’s grinning, smile lopsided.

“Here’s the plan. We’re half a mile from the hiking trail. 10 miles from the tourist center. And 400 miles from Camp Jupiter. We got two celestial beaks between the two of us and an unlimited amount of mortal weapons.”

To emphasize this, Travis dug a golf stick out of his backpack, twirling it in his hand.

“By feet, it would take three hours to get to the tourist area. But if we can catch a chimera by surprise, we can rodeo it all the way to the tourist site and — what? What’s with that look? I feel like you’re judging me.”

“I am judging you.”

“Rude. That’s the plan of action for now. We kick it to the tourist part, hijack someone’s car and book it to Camp. Any questions?”

“No, it’s pretty straight forward. I—” Will frowned as he replayed the words in his head. “We’re stealing a car. How are we going to— how will we bring it— Travis, stealing is bad. Put it in that master plan of yours how we’re going to return the car.”

And Travis, with a cheeky grin, clapped a solid hand on his shoulder. “You’re really funny sometimes, you know that Will?”

Travis packed his tent up just a bit slower than he usually does. Will is tasked with the safe holding of the magic backpack. He fidgetted with it, bouncing it on his back. It’s very light. Too light actually with all the stuff inside it, but it’s magic so Will doesn't dwell on it too much.

Travis snorted and Will looked back to see Travis tracing scorch marks on the tent’s outside with a finger.

“It's gonna take a lot more to take out my magic tent. This thing is practically indestructible.”

“It’s really neat,” Will admitted. “Perfect for hiding in.”

If Travis noticed his hinting, he chose not to voice them, instead humming ‘God bless America’ as he disassembled and folded it into its cute baggie. Will rolled the backpack off and held it in front of his chest so Travis could put it away.

He’s panting slightly, Will noted with worry. With a fever that high, he shouldn’t even be up for walking. But Travis only zipped up the backpack and pointed to the side.

“It’s that way.”

And they departed with Will tailing slightly behind Travis.

They lapsed into a silence that’s only broken by an occasional bird cry and Travis’s now more exerted panting and the occasional whining about how the forest is still a trying and torturous experience.

It’s … it’s really weird. It’s like being pushed back in time to when Will had no clue of the shit going on Travis’s life and when Travis acted like there’s no shit going on in his life. It’s surreal even. And Will can’t believe it was like this a mere 2 days ago.

But every now and then Will will catch Travis eyeing him from the side. As soon as their eyes make contact, Travis looked away. He doesn’t say anything so Will doesn’t either.

Even though it’s killing him to not say anything.

Even though the unbearable urge to pester and pester until he gets his answers loomed in the back of his mind like a pebble in his shoes.

Even though Travis is being so obvious that something is bothering him, his stiff shoulders, his side-eyed staring, the way he just picked up twigs off the ground and fidget with it in his hands.

Will doesn’t say anything.

Just give him time. He’ll tell me if he wants too.

So Will bit his cheek and diverted all his attention to keeping an eye out for monsters. Apparently, when Travis went outside for his little break this morning, there were a lot of monsters lingering around. There was even a chimera napping beside the tent.

“Their fur is incredibly soft,” Travis mused when they took a short break, “Like a kitten. Very well groomed too and fuzzy.”

“You pet a chimera.”

“You don’t get that close to a chimera every day, you know. I wish one of them is docile like Mrs. O’Leary. I want a pet Chimera.”

Will sighed, facepalming. “Gods, Travis. You need to stop being so—”

“Cool? Awesome? Amazing?”

“Reckless.”

It took 10 minutes for them to reach the trail, a river roaring a few feet away. The path doesn’t look very well-trod.

Travis said the site was more for kayaking than hiking. The roads were probably for the workers to get around with their cars. The surprising amount of knowledge Travis have on this random forest in California struck him as odd. But then again a lot of things are odd about Travis. Like how he can just casually pull a kayak from his backpack without Will feeling a thing and is currently dragging it to the river.

“Your bag can give something that long?”  Will said in awe, but then he supposed if he pulled a cycling bike last night with no problem then a kayak would be nothing too.

Travis didn’t acknowledge that either, only nodding. “Yup. Theoretically, it should also get me a car like what you see in NASCAR. Theoretically. I’ve never been able to pull one out.”

Travis dug into his pocket and pulled out a black, rectangular box. Will’s about to ask what that is but then Travis pressed a button and —

["You? Chiron choose you to be pilot?"

"Yup, he sure did!"

"You’re lying. I don’t believe you."

"Believe it."

“Nuh uh. There’s no way.”

“Yes, way.”

“No…no no nonono.”

“Yes!”

Static.

"Come on, Solace. Stop pouting, it isn't that bad."

"I'm not pouting. I just find it hard to believe that Chiron chose you to be the pilot. You know, given the fact that you can barely get on a pegasus in the first place."

"Good thing Chiron doesn't know that, huh?"

Static.

"Okay, so you know how our cabin has always been crowded? There's never enough beds, never enough toiletries, never enough anything! It takes us like forever to get them all line up for breakfast. And don’t even get me started on those tables. It would be a lot easier if we have a bigger cabin. So I talk with Chiron and you wouldn't believe what he said! Take a guess!

Well, he said no! He said that if we want to make the cabin bigger, the other cabins need to be made bigger too! Something about maintaining the order in power or something. It's ridiculous! Our cabin has over 60 kids! You only have, what? 30? Katie has 15, Malcolm has 20, Clarisse has 25, and Clovis and Lou Ellen only have 5 kids in their cabin! How can Chiron … ]

It was their conversation from when they started the trip.

Travis glanced back apologetically. “Sorry about recording you without your knowledge. We like to use it as bait.”

Then Travis tossed the recorder into the kayak and pushed it into the water. Will watched it flow away from them, listening to Travis’s ramble on and on about his cabin. It’s endearing. He almost sounds like a dad the way he gushed about them.

[“Dude, their faces when we told them about those nasty wenches, kodak moment.”]

No, he sounds like a dad.

Travis stood, or attempted to stand. His knees buckled instead and he fell back to his butt.

He attempted a second time and a third time before sighing. Will offered a hand and Travis took it. He pulled him up, Travis giving him a quick smile before placing his hands on his hips.  “Alrightie. That should draw some of the monsters away. Let’s book it to the—”

“Hey, Travis. I’m sorry for ignoring you back then,” Will stated without taking his eyes off the drifting kayak. “We’re fellow counselors. I should have been more empathic of your issues.”

There’s a minute of silence. A minute where Will peeked over his shoulder to see Travis’s jaw slack and his eyes owlishly big. When their eyes meet, Travis turned away and rubbed the back of his head. “Oh, um, that’s, um, that’s fine. You don’t have to feel bad. It’s always been me and Connor taking care of the problems. We’re used to it.”

Will frowned. “Nobody else helps?”

“Eh, I don’t like asking for help. I don’t want to be a bother. Plus, it gets annoying if you keep asking. I want to stay on people’s good side so I can lure them into a false sense of security. Pranks go way more smoothly that way,” he said, with a grin and a victory sign. Then the grin dimmed. “But I guess it’s Cecil’s problem now. He’s the oldest after Connor.”

“Wait, what do you… I don’t understand what you mean.”

Travis nodded his head towards the trail and they kept walking, keeping close to the bushes. His voice was devoid of feelings of any kind as he said, “We’re leaving the States and going to Taiwan or Singapore. It’s easy to disappear in the crowds. The Gods have no power over there. And I heard their food is to die for. Metaphorically, not literally.”

“And you’re never coming back?” Will asked quietly.

“Yeah, probably never,” Then Travis turned to face him with a lighthearted grin. He nudged his arm with an elbow. “Why? You’ll miss me?”

“I…”

["I rather bond with a chimpanzee than with you.”]

“I would,” Will admitted.

“What?” Travis blinked rapidly, frozen grin twitching. “You… would? Is that what I heard?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, you being nice is starting to creep me out. You sure you feeling alright?”

“I’m always nice!” Will argued, affronted.

And Travis grin splits his face into two as their conversation became something more of the usual banter.

“Lies. Just yesterday, you made fun of me for not cussing.”

“Two days ago,” Will corrected, “And I was tired. I would never criticize your desire to use kid-friendly language like some kind of an old prude.”

“And today, you made fun of me for wanting a pet chimera.”

“Travis, you can’t domesticate a monster.”

“And when you bullied me to tell you about my mom.”

“Well, I wouldn't call it bullying. Pestering is more like it.”

Travis tripped over an overgrown root and Will latched his hand onto his arm. He’s doing more than just panting now and Will announced, “I think we should take another break.”

But Travis shook his head and continued forward.

“No. No breaks. I’m fine. Oh! And that time when you refused to leave my leg alone. You threatened to pin me down against my will.”

Will clicked his tongue with disapproval and he curled his fingers into the feverish skin for a second before letting go. “I was exaggerating, Travis. I would never… okay, I would have pinned you down if you’d refused but you didn’t so take it what you will.”

Travis grinned, but there's something off about it. “And when you pulled the feather out of thigh without warning.”

“It wasn’t that mean.”

Will narrowed his eyes. The smile isn’t… genuine. It isn’t happy. It’s isn’t real.

Travis slowed. “And that time you apologized for activating the curse.”

“I was decent for that one,” Will responded with caution.

“And when you tried to keep up with me to the point of exhaustion,” Travis kept going and there’s a shift in tone that stopped Will from commenting back. “When you wanted me to leave you behind, when you fought a fury, when you dragged me back to the tent and when you took care of me even though I explicitly said to leave.”

And Travis pulled to a complete stop till he’s beside Will.  He turned to face him and there’s this vulnerability in his eyes, this honesty that Travis never had when fully cognizant.

“You did all of that because I’m your friend?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Travis shrunk away from him and stuffed his hands in his pocket but just as quick, took it out to play with the band of his slingshot. “What if I told you… that I… that it wasn't just…”

His eyes darted to the left, to the right, everywhere but him and Will felt a sudden need to stop the fidgeting by clasping their hands together. Maybe spend a few minutes just to calm down and gather the words, a trick he learned from Lee for anxiety.

But Travis finally mumbled with a lowered head, “What… What if I told you it wasn’t just Jamie? That I also killed my stepdad and my mom’s friends and her employees?”

Will expected this. He expected it ever since he had that vision of them with that man and the gun in New York and he said with a firm voice, “My judgment depends on the context but I’m willing to bet they were trying to hurt you or Connor.”

Travis swallowed. “No, I—”

“That’s a lie,” Will stated flatly. He tapped a finger on his abdomen, where the sharp pang came from. “Lie detector, remember?”

Travis pouted and crossed his arms. “I still murdered them.”

“I would have called it self defense.”

“Murder is still murder.”

“But homicide to protect yourself is different.”

“But I…I… Murder is bad!” Travis moped, lip jutting out a bit.

And Will rolled his eyes. “Keep trying to make yourself the bad guy. I won’t see you that way.”

Travis groaned. He ran a hand through his hair, making his bed hair even worse. It’s made worse yet again when Travis clenched a fistful of hair before letting his hand fall to his side.

“You… you’re really unbelievable, you know that? You always act like you know everything. You won’t even consider it from my point of view.”

Will shrugged, eyeing the way Travis’s hair now sticks up in all sorts of unruly ways. “It runs in our cabin. We’re stubborn like that.”

Travis bit his lower lip but it couldn’t stop his smile— sweet, relieved— as he looked away and uttered something suspiciously like, “dummy.”

“Look who’s talking, Mr. I’ll give my flying shoe to a perfectly healthy man to escape first even though I’m the one wounded.”

Travis snorted and yeah, no, Will can’t look at the random strands sticking up anymore. He raised a hand to smooth it out, but Travis slung an arm around his shoulder and he swayed them side to side with a ridiculously exultant grin for all that’s going on right now.

“First of all, you had a sprained ankle. Second, you never won in a fight by yourself. And third, you’re still upset over that? Everything turned out fine, didn’t it?” But then his grin softened into something sweeter, nicer and Will likes this grin. It’s charming, warming, and not at all wary-causing. It’s almost like last night when — wait.

Wait.

Last night.

When Travis was delirious and jabbering about everything and Will was just trying to make sense of what he just learned and that statement, the one where Travis said he had a —

“I’m sorry for ever doubting you. You’re the sweetest person ever, Will. You know that?”

And he choked on his spit.

「 You have the prettiest eyes and the sweetest smiles and kindest words. And gods, sometimes I’m so jealous of Nico. 」

The memory came like a bullet. It came like a baseball. It came like Mrs. Leary when someone filled her bowl with food.

It came and so did the rest of last night. And yeah, the questions Will pushed to the back of his mind for later are now all resurfacing.

You like me? Me? Really? Out of everybody who’s a 1000x more good looking and more capable, you chose me?

Travis leaned forward a bit, just enough so he could see Will’s face but it means he's closer too. Too close. Way too close.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Will shook his head. He feels warm. Is his face red? He hopes not. He really hopes not for the sake of his dignity.

“Nothing. I was just thinking.”

Travis’s eyes narrowed. “Your face is kinda red.” Oh shit. “Are you sure—”

“I’m fine!” Will snapped, horrified when his voice dared to betray him by cracking.

Travis stared at him for a long time, face neutral. He blinked once, twice then his mouth pulled up into an absolutely evil smirk. There’s a gleam in his eye. And they’re not nice. They’re not friendly. And they’re definitely, definitely not safe.

“Really now?” Travis said, voice gleeful.  

Will turned away. “Yes really.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m fine.” He wished he learned how to lie.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m fine .” Should have taken lessons when he had the chance.

“I think you forgot, Will. Just like you, I have a built-in lie detector and it’s telling me that you’re lying.”

‘Just like you…’

Just like you.

[ I like you. ]

Will bowed his head, blood rushing to his face when he recalled a hand gripping his shirt and a lopsided, goofy (delirious, sick, delusional) smile as the words just nonchalantly fell from his lips.

I like you.

I like you.

I like you.

He needs a tree to bash his head against. Why are they coming back now? They don’t mean anything. They were said under a high-fever. People babble stuff they don’t mean when they’re sick.

It doesn’t mean anything so he should just stop thinking about it because it’s not true, there’s no crush, no longing, no yearning, no nothing .

“What’s wrong?” Travis asked again, poking his arm with a finger and still with that dangerous grin.

“Nothing,” he said, voice’s much much more level headed.

Travis made a sad face that lasted only for two seconds before it picked back up. “I’m calling bullpoop. It is something. Come on, tell me?”

“It’s nothing,” he repeated and Will resumed walking, unaware of how fast he was going until he saw Travis a ways behind and struggling to keep up. He went back of course, but Travis’ impish grin did nothing to make his effort easier.

“Feel like telling me now?”

“No, because it's nothing .”

And they resumed trekking by the paved road.

Even though there’s a grunt of pain and a stumble from a branch every now and then, Travis still had his beaming smile. He said in a horribly, off-pitched sing-song voice, “I can detect lies, remember~”

“Its nothing,” Will said again because it is nothing in the big scale of things. Travis is in danger. Connor is in danger. There’s a vengeance-seeking mom out there. The gods are actively plotting their demise. And his medic bag is wasting away in his cabin somewhere.

A crush doesn’t change any of the above so it doesn’t matter if Travis has a crush on him.

It doesn’t matter.

…but…

[ Prettiest eyes and the sweetest smiles and kindest words ]

Stop thinking about it.

[ Bright smile .]

It doesn’t matter.

[ Caring heart. ]

It shouldn’t matter.

[ I like you. ]

It shouldn’t matter.

[“ if we were to date, Nico would be so jealous and angry that the person he loves is going out with the person he hates, he’s bound to do something drastic to declare his love for you! ”]

Will stopped, Travis nearly crashing into his back.

“I hear the recorder.”

“What?”

“I hear the recorder!” And Will turned back to the river. Sure enough, there was the kayak. It’s not drifting downstream as it should, but stationary. Like a leaf in still water, completely unmoving against the currents.

Travis took a step towards it and the kayak moved back. Travis stepped back and the kayak followed. A step forward, kayak moved back again.

It’s following them. It’s following them and there’s only one God that controls the water. Will swears he going to kill—

“Well, I’m going to tell Percy his dad sucks.” And Travis turned to Will with an unbelievably relaxed grin. “You’re my witness if Percy disagrees, yeah?”

They moved from the river bedside to the other side of the trial’s unpaved side. Will gritted his teeth as he hears their conversation replayed itself. Over and over. From the hour before they boarded the chariot to when Travis got shot by the arrow.

He doesn’t want to hear them.

Because

「 “So about your mom.” 」

They’re

「 “tell me about your mom.”」

All

「 “do you remember your mom?”」

Just

「 “how’s your mom doing?”」

Justifications for what is being done to him now. Will should have known karma would come bite his behind like this one day.  

“Will~ tell me what’s wrong.”

“No.”

“Please, dude.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“You are literally the meanest person—” Travis started, but Will slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Shh! Hellhound,” he hissed and nudged Travis behind the tree.

His lighthearted mood disappeared almost immediately and Travis stopped goofing around. He’s considerably silent as he allowed Will to push and pull him around. Step for step, nudge for nudge, completely silent and focused up till Will’s shoulders relaxed and he exhaled in relief.

Then it’s all giggles and prodding again.

“Will~” Travis said with his trademark smirk, “Tell. Me. It got to be something really funny.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“There’s literally no better time than now when we have so much free time.”

“How about once we’re safe.”

“No place is safe.”

Will glanced at Travis. “I mean, right off the top of my head, I can think of some. Camp Jupiter for example.”

And Travis shot back, “People can sneak in. Connor tried several times and he succeeded in all of them.”

Connor. The way Travis said his brother’s name, it was stilted. A bit curt. When Will turned to the side, he could see the furrowed eyebrows and distant eyes and the way he chewed his cheeks. Worry. Frustration. Anxiety.

“Hey,” he started, “Connor’s safe at Camp Jupiter. Or at least a lot safer than we are. Worry about yourself first.”

“I guess.” Travis frowned. Then grimaced. Then there’s a light chuckle and the creases on his forehead smoothed over. “Yeah, I shouldn’t worry. Connor's a better fighter than me.”

There’s a moment pause before Travis added, “And a better strategist.”

Another pause. “And a better cook. But I’m faster between the two of us.”

“And that’s all?”

“That and my unending optimism that everything will turn out a-okay. I’m the Positive Polly to Connor’s Debbie Downer.”

“And those make up for all that shortcomings,” Will remarked, jumping around a fallen log.

Travis gasped, clutching his heart in fake offense. He took it slow around the log, putting one leg over first before moving the other. “If you can't be touched, you can’t be killed.”

“Being a good fighter, I’m sure, also fit your proverb,” Will said.

“Well, I’m already a decent fighter.” And Travis jabbed his arm with an elbow and winked. “Unlike someone here. I’ll give you lessons if you want. The price is just that one simple, simple secret you’re hiding from me. Yes? Say yes.”

“After we get to Camp Jupiter.”

“Come on, Will. Please? Pretty please? Don’t be so—”

Will stiffened and Travis shuts up. He pushed him behind a tree.

Somewhere further ahead, he heard metal clanging. Could it be someone with an imperial gold or celestial weapon? Is it someone looking for them? No, they will be calling their names if that was true.

A random demigod then? Or is it a monster?

Whatever it is, it’s getting farther away from them.

All for the best.

Will resumed walking and Travis followed with an easy grin. “So, Great Healing Wizard, tell me that secret you're keeping.”

“Your nicknames suck.”

“Tell me? Please? Please please please please please?”

“Later.”

“Now.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“I’ll stop asking if you tell me.”

“No.”

“You’re such a meanie.”

Will resisted groaning. He’s insufferable. Intolerable. Absolutely the most annoying person there is. But he can’t deny that the pout forming, the way his right cheek is puffing up, his arms crossing over his chest, it’s funny.

Travis didn’t speak to him for 10 whole minutes.

For 10 long minutes, Travis pouted.

For 10 minutes, Will had complete and utter silence. He could hear the birds tweet and the leaves sway. And the cicadas, were they always there?

It didn’t last long. Travis eventually dropped his pout and arms to toy with his slingshot.

“Did it had to do with my mom?” he asked.

Will shook his head.

“Was it about Connor?”

“No.”

“Camp?”

“No.”

“My pranks?”

“No. Are you really just going— you really are going to keep asking until you hit the right topic.”

Travis didn’t respond to that. “Was it about my dad?”

“No.”

“Was it about my dog?”

“Dog? You have a — Travis, dogs aren’t allowed in camp.”

Travis ignored that too. He hummed a little, flipping his slingshot in the air and catching it. “Was it about Scott or Chester or Derek?”

“No.”

The wind picked up, the trees roaring above him. A leaf flew in his face and Will swatted it away.

“Was it about you?”

Will knew that question was coming. He was ready. The ‘no’ he said was strong and confident, but their gods-given gifts are even stronger.

Travis smirked. “So it was about you.”

“Yeah, it was about me,” he admitted and said nothing more. Travis waited for him to say more.

When it became obvious he wasn’t going to, Travis groaned. “You’re the devil. You’re Satan. You’re the meanest bully to have ever existed.”

“That’s quite an exaggeration, don’t you think—ack!”

Will doesn’t mind personal contact. He’s normally the one to initiate it but this? The way Travis is draped over him, chin propped on his shoulder and arms hooked in front of his sternum? Even for him, that’s too much. Will stumbled forward, almost sending them careening. Not that Travis cared as he tightened his hold and pressed closer.

“Come on~ Just tell me. I stopped keeping my secrets from you now it's your turn.”

“No. Get off of—“

Travis whined, shaking harder. Will struggled for a bit, but that only made Travis tightened his arms, it only reminded him of last night and it really only reminded him of Travis’s incredibly strong grip. And, well…

“Fine, fine! Get off me and I’ll tell you.”

Travis let go immediately, pumping his fist in the air. “Alright! See, Will, this is how you pressure someone. I’ll give you a lesson sometime.”

Will snorted. “Sure, sure.”

Travis looked expectantly at him, almost bouncing at the soles of his feet and Will coughed to hide his snicker.  

“Yesterday,” Will started, not quite facing Travis head on but his face remained in his peripheral view, “while you were delusional, you told me stuff that wasn’t about Jamie or your mom.”

At Travis’s eager nod, Will continued.

“You...confessed something to me,” he said and watched Travis’s unchanging expression carefully. He really doesn’t remember last night, huh?

“You told me about your… um… crush.”

The smile dropped.

Will waited for him to say something. Anything. ‘Stop’ or ‘that’s enough’ or even ‘Will, you dumb sheep.’ But there was nothing and Will continued on. “You said you had a crush on me.”

“You said you had a crush on me,” he repeated just to be extra clear.

Travis’s mouth fell open but the only noise that came out was this really funny-sounding squeak. No words were said for the longest time and nothing was done, save for Travis’s reddening face. And ears. And neck. And, wow, Will have to say this was worst than the time Nico blushed.

“You breathing?” he joked, half-heartedly patting his arm.

Travis jolted like he been electrocuted and he stumbled back a few inches. All the words seem to come back to him in a torrent like a soda can shook and opened. A guzzling mess.

“You’relyingI’mlyingIwasjokingThat’sjustfakenewsPleasetellmeyoudidn’tbelieveitAreyoupullingmylegIsthisrealAmidreamingPleasetellmeI’mdreaming.”

“I… um… did not catch any of that so if you could slow down that would be—”

“I can’t believe this. Am I dreaming?? This can’t be reality. There’s no way I would ever—Cause I’m really — Like a huge —  Yeah I’m, hahaha! Wow! I can’t believe I just— Oh gods. Just right out— just like that!”

“…hey,” Will said, unsure on what to do as Travis continued to steadily resemble their strawberries on Camp.

“I am so— I am really—gods, I can’t. I just can’t believe— What is wrong with—”

“Travis?” The way he is acting… the way he isn’t denying it or playing it off as a joke… does that mean it’s…

“This is the — Oh gods. Why? Why did I have to— AHH, someone end me.”

“Look, Travis, it's alright. Let's just pretend I never—”

A shadow fell over them. And before Will knew what was happening, what had happened, before he could even blink, a monster descended from above. She swooped down in front of them. Silently. Not a single sound and callously, harshly cupped Travis’s face in her hands and leaned forward to press her lips against his.

It lasted only a second. A second too long. A second where Travis’s eyes widen and he tried to pull back but froze. A second where Will just stared before his mind clicked into gear that this is a monster in front of him. And that this monster is kissing Travis. That her hand is creeping to the back of his head, entangling with his hair. That her other hand is resting on his chest. And that she’s pushing herself against him, that she has a tongue inside his mouth, that Travis is shaking, that Travis's hands are clenched, that Travis is struggling, that Travis is very, very unhappy.

And Will thrust the beak into her back.

There was only a short, cry of pain before she crumbled into dust. No sooner, another shadow fell over them. Something crashed into his back and he fell to his knees. A hand twisted his arm behind his back and shoved him forward unforgivingly till he’s flat on his stomach. Something cold and solid dug into his back.

His assaulter leaned forward, Will stifling a groan as the thing dug deeper into his back. A voice, gross and smelly, washed over his ear, “You bitch. That was my sister.”

“Then she should have kept her hands to herself,” he snapped back, head twisting to glare at the monster holding him. Monster? No, it’s a human. A human with glowing gold eyes. And floating red hair. And pointy, protruding canines. No, it's definitely a monster.

The hand twisted more and Will bite back a cry.

“I was going to give you a quick death, but now I think I’m going to kill you much more slowly.”

Two more shadows dropped from the sky, leaves crunching underneath the feet when they land.

“It’s her fault for rushing in. We told her to wait for us, Cynthia.”

“Shut it, Becky!” The hand tightened and this time he couldn’t stop the cry from coming out.

Travis whimpered and Will tried to raise his head but it’s shoved back down into the dirt ungracefully. Twigs and branches dug into his cheek.

The two newcomers, they’re coming closer. But it’s funny. Their walking is weird. There’s a… clop clop sound to their walking.

Then they’re crossing in front of him and Will see hooves and gold metal.

A metal foot and a hoof.  

A kiss that stuns.

Fangs.

Empousas. They’re empousas. Vampires that entrance men and suck their blood. Vampires that can charmspeak. Vampires that can teleport in a burst of fire and—

“Well, I’m going to complete our mission. We’ll bring Travis to Claire. You have fun with your revenging fest, Cynthia.”

No

You can’t

Wait

Don’t

A dim light and the faintest crackle of fire, barely audible, barely seeable, were the only clue that the two empousas are gone and Travis with them too.

Will is hefted up by the back of the shirt and shoved against a tree chest first, feet dangling inches off the ground. He scrambled for purchase on the bark. For anything that he can use as leverage to push off, but he’s slammed into the tree again, this time he actually hit his head, and shit, it hurts. It really, really hurts.

The empousa, Cynthia, leaned close, face twisted with rage. “I’m going to make you suffer. Her death was unnecessary.”

“Then don’t kiss people, you fucking pervert.” Will snapped back, grunting as he planted his feet against the trunk and pushed. The empousa pushed harder.

There’s a sense of deja vu to this. Pinned to a tree. Trapped by a monster. A hand digging into the upper half of his body. It's all very familiar. Except Travis is gone. And he needs to somehow get out of here and get to him. The two monsters said bringing him to Claire. How far can they teleport? Does that mean she’s in the forest?

“Tch, what’s with these bruises? It makes you look so unappetizing.”

Will feels a cold hand at the back of his neck, pulling his shirt to the side. Before he could snapped for her not to touch him fangs pierced his neck. The pain is minuscule, but the sensation of sucking, of his blood being drawn out is gross. His shoes scramble against the bark, hands pushed against the head that’s locked on his neck and even tried whistling but the fangs only sank deeper.

Then Cynthia tilted her head and suddenly the blood is being drawn faster, and faster and Gods, he already feel lightheaded. He could feel his heart beat faster (tachycardia, he remembered reading, that could arise from anemia) trying to do what 20 trillion erythrocytes do with 18 trillion.

17 trillion.

16 trillion.

14.

His head pounded.

It’s getting hard to breathe.

Everything blurred.

Everything hurts.

Is this how dying felt?

Is he going to die?

But he can’t yet. Travis. Travis is in danger. He can’t die yet.

Not yet.

Not till he’s safe.

Not till he gets his answer.

Not till he knows. If it’s real or not.

Not yet.

He can’t die yet.

Don’t die.

A bird cawed.

Cynthia screeched.

And he’s dropped suddenly.

Somewhere far away he heard crying and more screeching.

They’re grating.

Annoying.

Problematic.

It needs to stop.

It all needs to stop.

His neck hurts.

It burns.

The world is spinning.

He can’t breathe.

The pain in his chest isn’t subsiding.

It’s getting worse and worse and worse.

He can’t breathe.

He can’t bre—

Then a voice, gentler than the screaming, called his name and a warmth lightly touched his neck.

The voice, their touch, they’re soothing.

He tried to focus on the voice, tried to open his eyes, but the world is too bright.

Everything is still spinning way too hard.

The warmth moved to his back. They pressed into him, pushing him upright. It just makes the world spun faster, but the warmth become all-encompassing from behind and he melted into its hold.

Something cold, hard is pressed to his lips.

It tilted.

Water trickled into his mouth.

More.

Faster.

It’s not enough.

It’s too slow.

It still hurts.

All too soon the plastic is pulled away and he wants to cry. Wait. Wait . Not yet. He’s still thirsty.

His arms refused to rise.

The voice spoke again.

It's begging him, in it’s angelic, gentle rasp, to… to… he struggled to listen.

Will? Can you move? Can you stand? Can you talk? Will? Will?! Can you hear me?!

Yes. Yes. Yes yes yes.

But his mouth refused to cooperate.

The light still burned.

The dizziness isn’t going away.

The pain isn’t leaving.

Everything is becoming dark.

Rain — rain? But wasn’t it sunny just a while ago? — dripped onto his hair.

And that heavenly voice is becoming farther and farther till they’re nothing at all and he’s adrift in a sea of darkness.

He’s floating over Camp Jupiter’s praetor’s room. It looks pretty nice. A lot nicer than anything they have at their camp.  

A door slammed open and four people entered.

It’s Annabeth, Jason, Reyna, and Nico.

With her cloak flowing majestically behind her, Reyna spun sharply to face the trio. She looks very, very mad. Will definitely does not want to be there right now.

“You guys can’t just barge into Jupiter, like you just did, whenever you want. There are procedures to follow, measures to take—”

“They’re missing,” Nico interrupted, his hands in his pocket. He looked pale, sickly even, under the lighting. Has he been shadow traveling? When Will gets back, Nico is getting a lecture.

“Are you sure they didn’t take a detour?” Jason asked, “I mean, Travis is with him. Doesn’t he like to break into stores and stuff?”

“He does, but Will doesn’t. He’ll keep Travis in line. They should be here by now,” Annabeth said with a frown. “Something’s wrong. I think they’re in trouble.”

And Will is being lurched outside of the room, out to the open, pass the barracks, and to a hill where he sees Travis in Camp Jupiter’s—no wait, Connor. That’s Connor. Connor in Camp Jupiter’s purple shirt pacing underneath a tree. He stopped abruptly, eyes darting furtively to the sides and behind him. Then like a magician, he whipped out a bottle of water and a drachma from nowhere.

He showered the air with water and threw the coin.

“Show me Travis Stoll in California.”

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened and Connor hiccupped. He ground his hands into his eyes, but a tear still leaked and he wiped it away angrily.

Connor sniffled. Again. And Again. And the fourth time, he sank to his bottom and buried his face in his knees. In a small voice, the smallest he ever heard from him ever, Connor asked, “Is he dead? Is that why he hadn’t been answering any of my calls?”

Chaos erupted then. The trees cried for blood. The sun hid in shame. And the sky wept. Demigods screamed behind him, but he’s unable to tear his eyes away from Connor who remained unmoving in the disaster.

Algea materialized in front of them, dress whipping in a frenzy in the violent winds. She lowered herself beside Connor, a saccharine smile on her youthful face and rested her head on his slumped form.

Her eyes bored into his and she beamed.

A finger raised a finger to her lips.

Shhhh… let it be.

Then metal clanged and ringed and banged. Purple, black, and white plated box chains linking Algea’s wrist to Connor’s.

“You’ll see in due time, child. Some things are out of your control.”

And Will is pushed back into reality.

He’s first dimly aware of the stiffness in his neck and the unnatural hardness his cheek rested upon. He would have guessed he fallen asleep in the infirmary again. But his infirmary isn’t warm.

Nor does it have a heartbeat.

Will forced his eyes open, expecting to see blinding sunlight — he can feel it in his guts. It’s still daytime — but all he sees is gray, gray, and gray.

Rain is roaring. It’s pouring, torrenting. Thunder rumbled beyond them. Lightning flashed every few seconds. His back is cold and wet. He’s cold and wet. But his face is warm. And his chest too. Why are they—

Then Travis cursed, “Piece of cow poop,” and Will realized he’s being carried on a back and that his head is resting on a shoulder and that Travis is here, with him, not dead. And it all came back to him. Cynthia. Sister. A bird. Screaming. Biting. Sucking. Kissing. Probably not in that order.

Will struggled to keep his eyes open but it’s hard. He’s so, so very tired and they’re still in the forest with nothing new to see and Travis is really, really warm. Warm. He’s very warm. But there’s shivers running through his body. And he’s wheezing. His steps are jagged, uneven. And when Travis stopped to readjust him, Will tried to raise his head. But that took too much energy that he doesn’t have in him to do.

So he spoke from where his head lay, “You okay?”

Travis screamed. One of the hands holding on to his thigh slipped and for one dangerous second, Will could feel himself sliding off. But Travis lurched to the side, picked up his thigh again and everything is balanced.

“Will. Gods, please, give me a warning next time. I almost peed myself.”

Will muttered an apology. Their shift brought him closer to the crook of the neck and Will inched the last few centimeters to nuzzled his face into it, luxuriating in the warmth. He should have accepted his offer back then. This is comfortable, nice, warm. Safe. Very, very sleep-inducing. He’s two seconds away from a fruitful doze when Travis’s voice pulled him back.

“Hey, Will? How are you feeling?”

“Tired, dizzy, can’t breathe too well,” Will mumbled without lifting his head, “It’s normal. When you lose lots of blood, this happens. How are you? Are you ok?”

He noticed belatedly that his chest is pressed flush against Travis’s back, and that’s right. Tisiphone. Lacerations. Back. Shoulder. Poison. He tried to lean back, but Travis slumped forward more.

“Awful. Not ok. Don’t scoot back, you’ll fall,” Travis warned.

Will stopped, but it’s still there in the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be touching this area at all. His palm ached with a dull, pulsing pain. Travis’ back should be 100 times worse.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Yes.”

Then Travis chuckled. It sounded miserable. “You almost died and still all you care about is others.”

“It’s fine. I only lost 2 liters. It’s nothing bad,” Will murmured, but Travis flinched for some reason.

Does he know losing 2 liters is a severe condition? No, he can't have. Then why…

He’s tired. Thinking is too hard right now. Later, after he gets some sleep, he’ll think about it. And Will went back to relishing in the nice, radiating warmth and the solid, rhythmic beat of his heart.

He likes this.

He wants this again.

He needs this again.

But they live in different cabin. Right? He’s in Apollo’s. Travis is in… is in… not-Apollo.

Can he still be carried even though he’s in a different cabin?

What would make Travis say yes?

Hug?

Prank?

A puppy?

Maybe ice cream. Does he like ice cream? Everybody loves ice cream.

What does he want? What has he ever asked for… requested for… yearned for…

“Hey, Travis,” he said softly.  

“Yeah?”

“Back in the tent, the… the first night, do you remember your offer?”

“No. What offer?”

“The one where we date. Do you want to try for real and not to spite—”

Travis missed a step and Will’s head bounced on the shoulder. He hissed in discomfort, but Travis didn’t seem to notice.

“Wha-wha-what? What did you say? You’re kidding, right? Right?! Wait, no, you’re not. You’re not kidding. Oh my god, you’re not kidding.”

“Is that a no?”

Travis sputtered, “No. I’m not— I can’t— I don’t even— I was just— You like Nico remember?! Do I have to shake that memo back in your head?”

And Will’s lips curved up into a smile against the underside of the jaw. “So that means we can’t go out for a date?”

He could feel the heart beat faster. And with tremendous effort, he pulled his eyes opened and rolled his head back just a bit to see flushed cheeks.

And the thought came without second-guessing, without questioning, without filter that Travis is cute. Travis is freaking adorable. And Will isn’t really sure how he’s supposed to feel about that revelation.

“I—You—We— now isn’t the right time to be talking about this! Let’s talk about this later! Like way, way later. Way, way, waaaaay later. Like when we’re both in our twenties and have a stable life with a stable job and a stable house and a stable with horses and dogs and cats. Or maybe even in our thirties or forties. Wait, demigods don’t live that long. Let’s talk about it when we’re in Elysium. Yeah, when we’re both living in heaven then we can talk about this day and what a hell of a thing blood loss is to make you say such crazy things. We’re guaranteed a spot in heaven, aren’t we? Didn’t they say we’ll get in for fighting in the Titan War? Do you think they’ll back out? Gods, I hope not. I’m banking on a good, peaceful life in the afterlife for me and my brother.”

Travis continued to ramble on and Will rolled his head back into the crook of the neck, the drumming of rain and the steady heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

Chapter Text

An excruciating aching in his head. A similar aching, but duller at his neck. And now a sharp, flowering pain from his shoulder as he’s not too carefully propped against a tree trunk.  

Sneakers scuffled on dirt.

Bushes rustled.

Someone is retching.

A foul stench permeated the air.

Will struggled to open his eyes.

And when he did, he’s met with a gray canvas of trees trunks. Overhead thunder rumbled. He tried to turn to the retching and now the gagging, but his head refused to move an inch. But that’s a low priority.

“ y… ” Will coughed and tried again. “You okay?”

The retching stopped.

“No. Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just making friends with the river. You know how it is sometimes.”

Travis came back looking even more worse for wear. He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat down next to him. And as soon as Travis was settled, Will plopped his head on the shoulder.

Travis twitched but there was no protest and Will pressed his luck and nuzzled in, cheek digging into the dip of his collarbone.

And this time Travis squirmed, but he slunk lower to ease off the pressure for him.

“You know I’m going to have to pick you up in a second,” Travis said.

“Mmm.”

“You could have rested your head on the tree behind you.”

“Mmm.”

“Come on. I need you to do something more than hum.”

“O… kay.”

“... Will… I…”

Travis swallowed and Will can hear it, can feel his shoulders rise and fall a bit.

“Will.”

There’s a drumming in his head. Loud. Incessant.  

A voice pleading to him. Terrified. Frustrated.

And a vision. Of a woman. The back of the woman. With hair in a messy bun. In a yellow sundress. There’s monsters surrounding her. She’s pointing at a map with a meter stick. Two empousi are there, their heads down in shame. And at the very edge, the very corner of his vision is a —

“Your dad saved you,” Travis said all of the sudden.

Will pushed all the thoughts back. “What?”

“Your dad saved you,” Travis repeated. “He sent that griffin to attack Cynthia.”

Will scowled.

He helped me but didn't bother to help you.

“He’s asking me to convince you to give up. To let Eddie take you back to Camp Jupiter. He’s also extremely mad I’m telling you all this. But he should have known I am really bad at keeping secrets.”

Will pressed closer. “I don’t want to.”

“He said it doesn’t matter what you’re saying. That I should just do it.”

“Ignore him,” Will grumbled.

“Alrightie, will do.”

Travis shifted. Will’s head is leaned back to rest against a tree trunk. A hand slid to his back. Another under his knees. He could feel Travis straining, but his body still remain in contact with the ground.

“Can you stand? I’m having trouble picking you up.”

Will tried, but his legs refused to budge much less bent.

“I thought you said all you Apollo kids have accelerated healing,” Travis joked but there’s a thickness to his voice that Will didn’t like.

“It’s not your fault,” he mumbled.

Travis tried again.

And again.

And once more before he collapsed next to him with a sickly groan.

“Will, is it normal to feel like your insides are about to burst out of your chest?”

“No, not really.”

“I feel like poop.”

Will has a theory. It’s untested though so he guesses it’s more of a hypothesis. But if Percy can extend his enhanced healing in the water to others, maybe he could too. Maybe if the sun’s up and about, he can transfer his accelerated healing too. Sure, the sun might be hidden behind that monstrous thundercloud above them but he could still feel the sun.

Sort of…

Somewhere in his gut…

But he could still feel it and it’s that thought process that emboldened him to say it.

“Cuddle with me.”

Travis choked.

“W-What?”

He peeked an eye open, watching Travis already flushed face flush further.

“Cuddle with me. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I— what? How does that even make...? I really don’t see how that make— Dude. Will. Do you know what you’re— you know what. You don't know what you’re saying. You’re tired right now. And you’re almost at death’s door. That’s why you’re saying all these funny stuff.”

“So no cuddle?” he says, mustering the best puppy voice he can.

“No!”

Their conversation seems to give Travis the strength he needed because he crouched beside him, rolled Will onto his back not so smoothly, and stood with only a grunt and a wobble.

Will tucked his face into the neck and wrapped his arms around the torso.

They continued on at a snail’s pace.

Sometimes Travis would talk.

He would wheeze out something about his brother, his cabin, his father. Then he would also talk about his favorites. His favorite sports, his favorite foods, his other favorite colors.

But sometimes Travis doesn’t talk.

And it’s just the rain and his thoughts and the voice.

To the right … up ahead … that bush … just a few more feet … almost there…

Which is weird. What are the directions for? Where are they heading? Wasn’t he mad at his father? What was it for again?

He couldn't dwell on them too much, because Travis would pipe up again and bring Will back to the present, to the now and everything in his mind is overridden by the outside.

But it gnawed at him still. Something isn't adding up. It’s so quiet. Weren’t monsters chasing them? Why is dad helping them? Wasn’t he against them? Why…

Why was Travis following the voice?

He struggled to raise his head, squinting ahead for anything. Stymphalian birds. Hellhounds. Chimeras. Literally anything but there was nothing.

“Travis.”

“Yeah?”

“How did you escape the empousi?”

“I didn’t.”

The rain fell louder.

“Then… how… ”

“They brought me to my mom,” Travis said with just as much laid-backness as he did earlier talking about his favorite color. “Man, she hasn’t aged at all . She can actually pass as my older sister! It’s crazy. Do you think I inherited her agelessness? I want to look like a teenager well into my forties.”

A cold, lurching feeling settled in his stomach.

“I don’t understand. You shouldn’t … be here then.”

One second passed. Then two and three.

Travis shifted him higher onto his back. “I made a deal.”

no

His eyes burned and he groundthe heel of hand into his eye to stop it. He can’t speak. His throat feels too clogged to talk, but he forced himself to. Even if he knew the answer, he asked anyway, “What kind of deal?”

“If she let me go pick you up, I’ll come back to her.”

no

His eyes watered.

no

The boa around his neck tightened.  

no no no nonono

No .

“We’re almost there, Will. You’ll gonna be okay.”

Will tried to pull away. He tried to struggle. Maybe stop him from moving but all he did was wiggle in place. Travis continued forward without pause. Will squeezed his eyes shut and tried to stifle the rising sob.

He couldn’t.

Every time he hiccuped, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts .

“Why did you do this?”

“Because I don’t you to suffer any more,” Travis said with such earnesty, such sincerity that Will’s heart clenched.

“I…” but the words remain lodged in his throat and it took all he had to choke out. “I rather die with you then live without.”

Travis made a face. “That’s really concerning, Will. I rather you live. I can’t live with myself if you die with me.”

Die with you? You’re not going to fight?

And with forced cheer in his voice, Travis said, “There was nothing you could have done. Don’t worry about it. Just move on with your life and forget this week ever happened.”

Sneakers crunched on gravel and Will forced his head up. There’s a woman (hair in a messy bun. in a yellow sundress) running towards them and the closer she came, the more similarities he could see.

The shade of their hair. (Light brown. Unruly. Curling towards the end.)

The quality of their smiles. (A little crooked, a little lopsided, that little tick when it’s strained.)

The hue of their eyes. (Ocean blue. Bright. Twinkling.)

But there’s a coldness to her eyes. Something unforgiving. Like plunging through ice. And even though they soften somewhat when they met his, it still feels remarkably cold.

She stopped before them. Her hand touched his cheek and he shied away.

“He’s in a really bad condition. You literally dragged him through hell,” she tsked.

Travis looked down and Will watched him bite his lips before laughing. “You didn’t make it any easier for us you know?”

He could see the guilt brewing in those eyes and that’s not right. He doesn’t like that. Stop making him feel like that.

“I didn’t mind,” he said, glaring at the mom.

Claire laughed and gods, if Will closed his eyes, he can imagine it’s Travis.  

“I’m happy he still has a little kick in him. Come on, Eddie will make sure he makes it back to your camp.”

Travis walked forward.

There’s a whooshing sound above. More gravel crunched. Feathers (wings?) flapped before settling. A bird cooed and its presence is familiar. A beak nuzzled his cheek for a few seconds before pulling away and Will could literally feel the distress oozing from it in that short contact.

‘It’s going to be okay.’

Travis hoisted him higher on his back. “This is Eddie, the griffin that saved your life. He’ll take you back to Jupiter.”

Griffins. Dad’s sacred animal.

Will squeezed his eyes and shook his head, tightening his hands over Travis’s torso. “I don’t want to leave without you.”

Gods. He sounds pathetic and desperate, but it doesn't matter. None of it matters.

All too easily, his arms are pried apart and he’s being torn away from Travis. He’s lowered onto a canvas of soft, plushy feathers, stomach down. A belt was strapped across his lower back.

Eddie rose and it brought him to eye level with Travis. Travis with his annoying, dorky, lopsided grin. Travis with his annoying, brush-needing, bed-slept hair. Travis with his annoying, dangerous, flippant attitude. Travis who’s waving (a goodbye). Travis who’s turning away from him. And Will latched onto his shirt, tugging him back.

“Please tell me you have a plan,” Will gasped, unable to quell the shaking in his voice. “Tell me you have something up your sleeve.” Please tell me you’re not walking to her to just die.

Travis came back to him and took his trembling hand into his own. He squeezed once. And Will could see sadness, misery, regret in his eyes before Travis blinked and it’s all shadowed by a carefree smile.

“Of course I do. It’s going to be okay, Will. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

His gut panged.

“You’re lying.”

You’re not going to be fine. It’s not going to be okay. You don’t have a plan. I should be worry.

“Don't go with her,” he pleaded.

The smile sagged.

Travis shook his head.

“I can't do that. I made the promise on the Styx. It was the only way she’ll let me go.”

No.

Travis let go of his hand and tried to pull away but Will clung tighter.

“Don’t go,” Will begged. He hates how his voice is wobbly. He hates how Travis’s smile crumpled. He hates how he knows it’s useless. Nothing he ever said, ever begged, ever pleaded with Travis worked.  

But he tried again, not even bothering with his uneven voice.

“Stay.”

Travis leaned in, till their foreheads are pressed together and all Will sees are the blue of his eyes. Every groove, every dip. It reminds him of sunshowers,  of that first dip in the ocean, of cold lemonade on a hot day, and of yesterday, of Travis’s confession and how he still hasn’t had his answer.

“If I stay, you’ll die with me.”

“I’m okay with that,” he said, but Travis only shook his head.

Don’t go. Don’t go. Please don’t go.

The clouds parted and the sun shone down on them, Travis’s brown locks glistening with raindrops and blue eyes lit aflame. They sparkled under the sun (alive, bright, not dejected, not fearful) and Will swallowed. He made a promise to himself. He made a promise and he doesn’t break his promises.  

A hand slipped behind Will’s ear, thumb rubbing gentle circles on his cheeks

Will dug his fingers into the wrist.

Please don’t go.

Travis leaned forward more and for a second Will thought they were going to —  that they were maybe — that Travis might — and his heart fluttered but the slightly chapped lips went past his own to brush against his ear. The hand behind his ear slide to nestle in the curls of his hair.  

“I’m sorry, Will. Tell Connor I'm sorry too.”

Then there’s a quick press against his cheek before the warmth is gone and Will’s in the air, watching as Travis spun around, aimed a gun at his mother’s torso, and pulled the trigger. The wind picked up. The wings drowned out all noise, but Will could see handgun recoiled.

Nothing came out.

And Claire shoved a cloth into Travis’s face, catching his limp body with one hand.  

“I hate you,” Will muttered with his cheek pressed against the unfairly soft feathers. Tears burned in his eyes. Why couldn’t you help him?

There’s nothing that could be done, Eddie says to him as they soar above the rainclouds.

Will glared at the sun. “There’s always something you could do.”

Better one die than two. Stoll made the right choice.

“I hate you.”

I am simply the messenger. Don’t shoot me.

This close to the sun, Will could feel his body sing with energy. He can raise his head with less effort than before. He can bend his arms a little bit.  He can curl his fingers into a fist. All of this made him go first to the buckle strapping him to Eddie.

The griffin lurched down sharply and Will groaned. The nausea the sun slightly helped curbed came back full force. He slunk back onto the plush and prayed the dizzying pain would disappear.

I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’ll fall and then I would have to save you and carry you around by my claws. You won’t have the luxury of riding my back anymore , Eddie warned.

“I hate you,” Will hissed into the feathers. Stupid tears filled his eyes again and he ground a heel into the sockets.

Why couldn’t you help him? Why couldn’t you help me help him? Why couldn’t you give me something more than this stupid ass healing voodoo? Why couldn’t I do more. Why couldn’t I be stronger. Why couldn’t I be more gifted.

Why couldn’t I save him.

There’s a flutter of wings, the beat of wind, and a sound familiar from so long ago. Will forced his head up to see Hermes flying beside him on his back, hands behind his head. So casual, yet his body language said defeat. He’s given up. It makes Will want to kick him in the groins.

Why did you try so hard just to give up so fast?

But instead he just muttered behind gritted teeth, “Why did you show me all of those memories?”

Hermes didn’t move, didn’t indicate that he heard his question at all. And  Will opened his mouth to ask again, this time more harshly but Hermes rolled onto his side away from him.

“I thought maybe… you could change something. That you could change the outcome. But I see now. There was nothing you could have done.”

Nothing I could have done.

There’s always something I can do.

“I’m not going to give up.”

Hermes shook his head. “Your dad is furious with me for dragging you into my mess.”

“I don’t care what he thinks.”

Hermes sighed and flipped around to face him and he hates the pity he sees on that face. “Will. If you continued this, you would have ended up dead.”

“You don’t know that.”

And like a broken record, Hermes repeated, “There’s was nothing you could have done. This was always meant to be.”

“Shut up.”

Hermes scowled and Will waited to be blasted into oblivion.

It didn’t happen. But maybe it would have been better if he was.

“The oracle gave this journey a prophecy, you know. If you had gone to her before, you would have known this was all pointless.

Sons of Kronides blood shall travel west.  The judge’s appearance let the secret be confessed. The winged son shall lose what he holds dear.  And the wronged shall have their offense cleared.

Travis and Connor weren’t ever meant to survive. Claire was meant to kill them.”

Stop it.

“The fates decreed it so.”

I don’t want to hear it anymore.

“There really was nothing you could have done.”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

“I’m sorry.”

And Will buried his face back into the feathers.

Eddie dropped him off at the tunnel’s entrance because two big, bad Romans tried to shoot him down. Will wished this griffen wasn’t so good at flying and making sure he stays on the back.

Sorry, this is where we say goodbye. I don’t want to die, Eddie warned him before he’s slid onto the ground with the seatbelt somehow undone. Will watched him fly away, cawing at the two Roman guards with indignation and throwing a couple swear words around.

Travis wouldn’t have liked what Eddie said.

He struggled to roll on his back, but the backpack (Travis’s backpack, the magic backpack, he’s still carrying it?) made it uncomfortable. So he struggled to his elbows on his stomach, squinting at the demigods running to him. He doesn't know them. But they know him.

“H-hey, it’s that Solace guy! The one that went missing! He doesn’t look too good. Someone get a medic! Is the other missing guy with him?”

The two Romans crouched over him. Will tried to get their attention, tried to tell them that in the forest, somewhere north is Travis and maybe (maybe maybe maybe) he's still there and if they hurry, maybe they could— but it’s useless. ( Nothing you could have done). The Romans weren’t looking at him.

He’s being lifted onto a gurney and taken somewhere. Faces swarmed him. Gwen, Dakota, Jason, Annabeth, Nico, Percy, Hazel, Travis, Frank, Reyn—

Travis.

Travis is here.

He made it somehow!

He…

No, that’s not him.

Connor stared at him with that same shade of blue eyes, same shade of brown hair, same everything. He watched Connor’s eyes roved over him, widening with familiar guilt. And no, no, no, no please don’t do that.

Will watched Connor swallowed and pushed his way past the crowd to stand beside his left side. Will watched Connor mouthed his brother’s name. Will watched Connor come to realization without he saying anything that his brother is gone.

Connor whispered, “I’m sorry, Will” and took a step back from the crowd.

No, it should be me who’s sorry. I failed you. I couldn’t help your brother. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Connor.

But Connor turned away and he’s walking away.

away

away

away

Like Travis did.

And Will reached out — stop don’t go please don’t go — but his blood ran cold when Algea materialized beside Connor.

She grinned, a finger on her lips, and Will’s sinking into a sea of black.

Will was floating in a sea of nothingness. No gravity. No light. No color. Just nothing.

And it was nice.

Then a tortoise nuzzled his palm.

“One last time. I’ll give you closure.”

And he’s whipped to reality.

There’s everything. There’s gravity. There’s light and there’s color.

And nothing is nice.

He’s in the backseat of a car. Travis is laid out on his back, head pillowed by a neon blue cardigan. He looked so peaceful that for one terrifying second Will thought he was dead. But there’s a definite rise and fall of his chest and he just wants to start sobbing all over again.

Up front two people are talking. Claire and his —

“Whew! I finally did it! Thank you for everything, Apollo,” Claire says, laughing, actually laughing, as she slunk into the leather seat of the Prius his dad was driving.

Laughing. She’s laughing over Travis. She’s laughing that Travis is hurt. She’s laughing that Travis is going to die.

His blood boiled. All he sees is red.

Claire undid her bun, waist length hair cascading down, before tossing all of it over her shoulder to tie it in a low ponytail.

“I’m sorry about your son. I never meant for him to get hurt,” Claire said, and Will could sense the sincerity behind her words even though she’s still grinning like a deranged maniac.

“I know,” Apollo replied and he looked into the rear view mirror.

They locked eyes.

Will was the first to turn away.

I’ll never forgive you.

His father sighed and he turned his attention back to the road.

“I’m surprised he was still able to talk. Normally at this point they’re comatosed.”

“Is that so?” Claire hummed. She’s just an awful of a hummer as Travis is.

The car drove on. Will tried to get a peek outside but there’s nothing. He can’t grasp the door handle.  He can’t press on the brake. He can’t kick Claire’s seat. His reality is constrained to this godforsaken car. Gods fucking damn it!

But he can hold Travis’s hands. He can feel the warmth radiating from him.

If this is what Hermes meant by closure then screw closure.

And as if his father was reading his mind, Apollo said in an uncharacteristically solemn voice, “This won’t change anything, Claire. It won’t bring your dead family back to life. It’s better to have just let them go.”

Better to have just let them go…

‘Let him go, Will,’ his dad said and Will shook his head.

No.

Never.

I won’t.

I refuse.

And (unfortunately) Claire seconded him, “I can’t do that.”

He doesn’t want to share a trait with her. He doesn’t want to share anything with this psychopath.

She reclined her carseat back, eyes closing as she stretched out in comfort.

“I have nothing else to live for. Hunting them all these years has been my only motivation for living.”

Apollo winced. “That’s not really a healthy way to live.”

“I know.” Her eyes opened. Her head tilted back. And it’s like she knew he’s here. They stared eye to eye, both unblinking.

“I know. But if I can’t have that, then I don’t want to live.”

Will came to slowly.

The first thing he’s aware of is the plush pillow cushioning his head that did absolutely nothing for the pounding in his head.

The second, the sun glaring down from his face to his toes that did absolutely everything for the full body aching he’s feeling, especially the pulsing pain in his right hand with the scratch.

The third, Annabeth nodding off in the seat to his right.

She looked exhausted, the dark circles under her eyes prominent against her pale skin. It sparked that familiar nagging mother in him, but there’s more pressing matters. He’ll scold her later once this is all over.

“Annabeth?” he said, voice hoarse, and he watched Annabeth snapped to attention. Her eyes fell to him and a hand goes to clutch his wrist, careful not to touch his wound.

Without him even mentioning it, Annabeth said, “If you’re asking about Travis, we don’t know where he is. We had a son of Hypnos — I mean Somnus — search your memories. Sorry about that. People are out looking for him right now, but they’re no longer at the forest.”

Will didn’t mind. All for the better. “Their mom…They’re in a car…” Dad was going 65 mph. There’s only one place they could go so fast. “On the freeway somewhere.”

He watched recognition floods her gray eyes and watched them hardened with resolve. “Do you know where are they are heading?”

Will closed his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he croaked and it burns to admit that. Everything burns.

There’s nothing you could have done. Nothing I could have done. They were meant to die. Claire was meant to kill them. This is just the way fate works.  I can’t save him.

But I can.

Stop thinking you can’t and start thinking you can.

Anything is possible.

And Will forced his eyes back open.

“But Connor might. Where is he?”

He struggled to stand but a hand pushed him down by the shoulder.

It wasn’t Annabeth’s.

Will followed the hand up to one Nico di Angelo. He, too, looked like shit. Everybody is going to get a scolding once he feels better.

“I’ll go get him. You need to rest,” he says.

Will shook his head, wincing at the sharp, punching sting at his frontal. Reminder to self, don’t shake head. Ever.  

“I feel fine.” It’s not fine. It’s really not fine. The room is spinning. “I can do —”

Kerchunk.

The three of them froze. Will willed the room to stop moving before he even dared to look up at his companions.

“What was that?” he asked.

Nico walked to the door and tugged at the unbudging handle.  

“It’s locked,” he said in surprise, before his eyes rolled back and he promptly collapsed in a hump against the door. Annabeth sprung from her seat and somehow caught Nico before his head hit the floor.

“Shit,” she cursed.

“What? What happened? What’s wrong with Nico?” Will said, throwing his legs off the bed.

He tried to walk, but his knees buckled. He cushioned his fall by clinging to the infirmary bed but his knees still hit the hardwood at a bad angle. A funny tingle made it’s way up his thigh but he can’t think about that now. Nico is unconscious for no reason at all and — oh gods, is he going to lose all his friends?

“He’s fine. He’s just sleeping. The handle was laced with Connor’s homemade benzodiazepine. It’s permeable through the skin. Nico’s going to be out for at least 12 hours.”

Annabeth lowered Nico to the ground gently. She walked to the glove dispensary, tugging on two medium, disposable gloves before going back to the door and giving a strong wrench to the handle.

It didn’t budge so Annabeth gave a solid kick to the door with enough force to rattle the windows.

It still didn’t budge even though Annabeth’s kick was very solid.

“Connor, open this door right now!” Annabeth roared, giving the poor, but unrelenting door one more kick.

Will struggled to stand, but his feet refused to cooperate.

Connor wasn’t cooperating.

In fact, if he listened closely he can hear the shoes pounding on hardwood traveling away from them.

Nobody in his life cooperated with him. Travis. Dad. Hermes. Eddie.

‘Let go, Will.

Just let go.

It’s easier. It’s freer. There’s nothing anybody can do anymore. You did enough.’

Just let go.

And Will was reminded of Travis’s first request from so long on the chariot.

His temper flared. His will to prove people wrong dug its way back to the surface.

You’re wrong. I’ll show you.

One person is enough and he’ll keep trying for as long as he’s breathing.