Chapter Text
The last day of shooting Season Three felt like standing on the precipice of something immense and not quite knowing just how to break away from it.
Fake smoke and ocean-scented stage mist still clouded the set with its' forever lingering scent. Massive lighting rigs hung overhead like mechanical constellations. The orange banners, Olympian cabins and the strawberry fields backdrop of Camp Half-Blood were all half-struck. Crew members meandered around through the chaos of tear down.
Walker had just handed over his Riptide pen to the head of the props team when the director's voices boomed across soundstages.
"That's a wrap on Season Three of Percy Jackson and the Olympians! Well done everyone!"
The cheers that followed echoed around the studio like thunder striking down.
Leah covered her mouth with both hands before immediately spinning in a semi circle, scanning for the nearest person to hug. Aryan got there first. Dior was next. Charlie almost got knocked over in the process. Somewhere behind them, someone was already crying, loudly and unapologetically.
Walker couldn't say he blamed them — this season had been the most physically demanding of them all. The stakes were higher with Annabeth missing, and Percy essentially crashing out. It involved late night line runs, incredibly messed up sleep schedules. Walker had begun to measure time in stunt rehearsals and script drafting and script revisions.
Walker hadn't realised how tight his chest had become until Leah found him and squeezed him into her embrace, so fiercely that he swayed backwards.
"We did it," Leah cheered into the hug, her chin gently crashing against his shoulder.
"We actually did," Walker answered, a slight breathlessness to his voice. It had been eerie filming without Leah being around. He was a moth and she always managed to keep him away from the flame; she was grounding whereas he was impulsive. Walker missed Leah's constant presence this season.
Around them, the rest of the cast slowly gravitated together — like magnets snapping into place. Dior still had bits of flying dirt from her costume in her hair. Aryan was half out of his jacket. Charlie had somehow acquired a foam sword and was dramatically pretending to faint on it.
“End of an era,” Aryan contemplated, looking around the massive stage.
“It feels weird,” Leah said, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself as a cool breeze swept through. “Like, what do you mean we’re just supposed to leave?”
Aryan nodded, agreeing with Leah. “We’ve basically lived here.”
“It could be the beginning of another era,” Dior replied thoughtfully. There was something in her voice that made everyone glance at her.
She was standing a little apart from the group now, arms folded loosely, eyes sweeping across the set: the cabins; the props; the places they’d filmed emotional scenes and ridiculous bloopers and everything in between.
“We can’t just go home,” Dior declared decisively. Walker eyed her in curiosity.
Leah tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Dior continued, stepping closer, her expression brightening with the shape of an idea forming. “We just finished the third season of a show about quests. About friendships. About literally traveling across the country fighting monsters.”
Walker raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me you’re not suggesting we fight something.”
“No,” Dior laughed. “I’m suggesting we take a road trip.”
The word hung in the air.
"A road trip," Charlie repeated slowly, like he was testing how the idea felt and how the words settled on his tongue. The thought wizzed around Walker's own mind, what could go wrong with a road trip with some of his favourite people?
“Yeah,” Dior replied, growing in her animation now. “No scripts. No cameras. Just us. We rent a van, start here in Vancouver, drive down the coast, stop wherever we want. Old filming locations, whatever. We make it our own quest, to celebrate Season Three.”
Leah’s mouth fell open. “Wait.”
“Think about it,” Dior pressed on. “We’ve been pretending to travel across America for three years. Let’s actually do it. We start in Vancouver, drive through Washington, Oregon, California, wherever we want. National parks. Beach stops. Random roadside diners.”
Walker could already picture it — the five of them crammed into a van, mountains fading in the rearview mirror, the Pacific stretching out beside them.
There was a beat of silence.
“Oh my god,” Leah breathed.
Aryan’s eyes widened. “Wait. That’s actually kind of perfect.”
Walker leaned against a half-dismantled set wall, arms crossing as a grin spread across his face. “Like a victory lap.”
“Exactly, Walker!” Dior exclaimed, gesturing pointedly at him. “A Season Three victory lap.”
Charlie dramatically wiped a fake tear from his eye. “This is so poetic.”
Walker looked at his friends — especially at Leah bouncing slightly on her toes with excitement, at Aryan already mentally mapping routes, at Charlie pretending to narrate their imaginary travel documentary, at Dior practically glowing with the thrill of the idea she’d just launched into the universe.
“I’m in,” Walker said.
Leah gasped dramatically. “That was way too easy.”
“You were going to guilt me into it anyway.”
“Correct, seaweed brain."
Aryan crossed his arms, pretending to deliberate. “Logistically, it just makes sense. We’re already here. No flights yet. We head south.”
Dior nodded. “We start tomorrow. Or the day after. We pack up from our apartments here, rent something big enough for all of us and our questionable luggage choices—”
“And snacks,” Charlie cut in. “Critical.”
“Very critical,” Leah agreed.
Walker squinted at them. “Okay, but who’s driving?”
Leah and Aryan answered at the exact same time. “Not you.”
Walker threw his hands up. “Why does everyone assume I’m reckless?”
“Because you are,” Leah said sweetly. Walker registers that if anyone else had said that, he would've put up a fight. But he didn't know why his body refused to challenge Leah about it.
“Percy energy,” Aryan added. Walker dramatically rolled his eyes at Aryan.
Dior laughed. “We’ll rotate. Safely. Responsibly. This is a celebration, not a survival test.”
Charlie clapped his hands together. “Okay but playlist rules. There need to be playlist rules.”
“We draft,” Aryan decided immediately.
“No country vetoes,” Leah added.
Walker pointed at her. “That feels targeted.”
“It is.”
The empty soundstages buzzed with possibility. Vancouver skies always threatened to downpour something torrential, but even in the grey hues of a depressed sky sunlight passed through at the opportunity presented.
Dior stepped forward slightly, a massive grin on her face.
"This is going to be the best roadtrip ever!"
Walker smiled his signature grin, before casting his eyes to Dior who had energy practically humming under her skin. His blue eyes brightened, crinkling minutely at the edges. His grin widened, slow and deliberate, as he watched everyone's excitement for the roadtrip.
He had no idea then how bad of an idea the whole thing was then.