Archive of Our Own

“You shouldn't clean up his messes for him,” Piper freezes in her tracks when she hears Frank over her shoulder from the other side of the room.

Between the seven demigods of the quest, they had been voluntold one day a week each where they are expected to make dinner for the crew. Piper doesn't mind that, she likes cooking. The thing is, Leo can't cook. Naturally, Piper’s happy to cover for her best friend. 

To be clear: it's not that he doesn't like it or is ignorant to the whole skillset, he physically cannot do it. One of the first things Piper learned about Leo was that he has severe Classical Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which causes him to have GI dysmotility, dislocations, and a whole lot more that he's dealt with his whole life. 

“Yeah, he never helps with anything in the kitchen. The least he could do is a few dishes,” Hazel agrees. 

Tonight was a rare exception. Leo insisted that he's feeling fine enough to cook dinner for everybody and made some delicious tofu tacos and beans. Seriously. They were fucking good. Piper helped with chopping some of the tougher veggies, only after Leo not-so-subtly kept dislocating his wrist and shrugging it off, but otherwise it was all him. 

Despite this win, it hasn't gone unnoticed to Piper that her friend barely ate or talked for most of the meal. These are both surefire signs that he's nauseous. Granted, he's always kinda nauseous, but the point still stands of him being more nauseous. When he ran off without much argument about doing the dishes, she knew it's to puke or to drain his stomach through the feeding tube he's been hiding from most of the crew. 

Yeah. That's another thing Leo's been doing that Piper isn't a huge fan of. Besides some kind of secret scheme he's obviously been keeping from her, he's also been doing everything he can to hide his disability from the rest of the Argo. Jason knows the same amount as Piper, and Coach and Percy know small tidbits, but otherwise it's a total secret. Some bullshit about not wanting to be a burden. 

“I don't mind doing the dishes, Leo prolly has maintenance stuff to get back to,” Piper smoothly lies, hoping nobody notices the dash of charmspeak she let through. 

“Here, I can help too,” Jason gets up and gives Piper a quick kiss before starting to dry the dishes that are piling up. 

It doesn't take long to do the dishes— maybe 20 minutes on the generous side. Everybody else still seems all huffy puffy about Leo leaving early. 

“We are supposed to have a strategy meeting after dinner,” Annabeth pointedly reminds, just as Piper's about to leave to check on Leo. 

Nonetheless, she puts on a smile and sits down, “Of course, yeah. My bad, I totally forgot.” 

Admittedly, Piper doesn't really pay attention in these meetings. Her role in things are usually pretty minimal, but she tries to make a point of paying attention to what Leo's supposed to be doing. Usually it's along the lines of making the Argo into a flying battery ram with cannons or coming in with fires blazing. 

“Ugh, we really needed Leo here,” Annabeth gets frustrated. Apparently a lot of this plan relies on if it seems feasible from a mechanical perspective. 

“I'll go get him, he's probably just messing around in the engine room,” Frank sighs, getting up. 

“No!” Piper exclaims, not thinking about what to say next, “I'll go get him. Better coming from a friend, right?” 

People seem to agree, no charmspeak involved, so Piper lets out a sigh of relief and heads to the lower decks where the engine room is. More specifically, where Leo's bathroom is. Expectedly, the door is firmly locked with the shower and fan on. 

Piper knocks, “Hey, unalii, it's me. Can I come in?”

Leo doesn't reply, but she hears the door unlock and takes it as a yes. 

When Piper walks in, she sees her best friend sitting next on the ground with a basket of meds spilling onto the floor. It's like he rushed in and was trying to grab something. Before she has a chance to say anything, he pitches over the toilet heaving. 

“It's been like an hour and a half, have you been barfing this whole time?” asks Piper, not because she doubts it but because it's definitely concerning. 

Leo nods, he doesn't talk because he starts retching again. Piper gets closer to rub his back, “I'm here, I've got you,” she comforts him. 

It's a while until he sits back from the toilet and talks again, “Thought I digested or drained everything from the past couple days, guess I didn't. Feel awful.”

If there's one thing about Leo, it's that he has the world's slowest digestive system. Which, to be clear, is because his stomach is partially paralyzed and the rest leaves a lot to be desired. He has this implanted feeding tube to help the cause, but is supposed to try to eat by mouth as much as he can. 

Once again, Piper doesn't have an opportunity to say anything because her friend is once again puking. She peers over his shoulder to check if there's any red flags. Disgusting, she knows, but it looks mostly like undigested food and his formula. The formula is alarming, since that goes straight to his intestine. 

“Alright dude, you need some meds. Have you taken anything?” Piper surveys the bathroom floor, nothing looks used or open. 

Leo shakes his head. The movement was a little too much, because he promptly gets sick again. 

See, at their fuckass Wilderness School, Piper more or less became Leo's primary caregiver. He was dying. They were depriving him of his meds and mobility aids and it was killing him. Even when the courts ordered them to be returned to him, he still needed help. 

Not to mention, after that the two had stuck together at Camp. To keep things private, only people actually involved in the infirmary and Leo's care know any details, but the TLDR is that the role stuck. Piper likes being with Leo and helping him out, so it's chill. 

All that to say, she's come to recognize patterns. Usually, uncontrollable puking means that he hasn't gotten enough of a break to take meds or for them to actually work before they come back up. Therefore, Piper makes the executive decision to give him his emergency antiemetics. 

They don't take too long to kick in. Luckily. Her best friend looks fucking miserable. 

Leo chuckles a little bit, because of course he does, “Before I got diagnosed, they used to think it was psychosomatic cyclic vomiting syndrome.” 

Piper laughs, “For real?”

“Yup,” Leo nods, “Till I got hospitalized in Kindergarten during a flare and they realized I was puking shit from days ago.”

He winces and sharply inhales, pressing on his abdomen. Very seldom will Leo be caught visibly showing pain. This is because people are racist and he has a high pain tolerance from literally always being in pain his entire life. 

“Cramping?” asks Piper. 

Leo jerkily nods, gritting his teeth. He cautiously leans over the bowl again just in case, but something twinges the wrong way and a loud pop makes him fall.

“C’mon, let's get you to bed. I'll grab a puke bucket, but I think your body's over trying to hold itself together,” Piper rubs his back, finding a plastic bag and handing it to Leo. 

He agrees. Luckily, he made a room next to the engine room for this exact situation. Piper supposes it pays to be the Argo II’s primary designer and builder. It's a quaint room, has the bare necessities but also an airplane-sized bathroom instead of a closet. 

As soon as they get to the bed, Leo plops down. Piper had to half carry him there, but he's small and easy to support. He doesn't lay down, though. Strange.

“My hip’s out of place,” Leo points at his left side, “Can you push it from the side towards my center? Maybe back a little bit too, if that doesn't work.”

It clunks back into place on Piper's first try. She's basically a pro at helping Leo reset his ever-dislocating joints at this point. With that, he carefully lays down but grabs a nearby plastic basin to put on his lap. 

Piper hears what are unmistakably Jason's footsteps in the hallway, “Pipes? You down here? I was sent to find you.”

Before Piper even has the chance to ask if it's okay to let Jason in, Leo answers with a smirk, “Yeah, he can come to the Leo pukefest.”

She gets up and cracks the door, “Psst! Jason! We're over here.”

Jason smoothly slides into the room and Piper quickly shuts the door behind him. It doesn't take long for Jason to take one look at Leo and get the point of what's going on. 

“I may have girlbossed too close to the sun with the tacos,” Leo lightly jokes.

“What excuse do you want me to give them? They're starting to get really annoyed and aren't listening to me anymore,” Jason skips right to the point. 

“Tell them my body is busy rejecting everything that has entered my digestive system in the past 48 hours, so the mechanic’s out of office,” Leo deadpans. 

Jason gives this look to Piper like he's not completely sure if that's the real answer or not. 

“Don't do that. Leo, I literally know you don't want that,” Piper rolls her eyes. 

“Uhhh,” Leo tries to think, then snaps his fingers in realization, “Tell them that I noticed the A/C system was overheating and ended up needing another set of hands to help me fix it. Nobody complains when the A/C is in jeopardy.”

“Got it,” Jason nods with Roman conviction, then his expression softens, “How are you doing, though? We're coming up on our next stop soon.”

“Don't worry, Storm Boy, I'll be fine enough for whatever shit I need to do for the quest,” Leo misses the point of Jason's question. 

“No— I mean— yeah. I mean— I know you always pull through. That's not the— I'm worried about you, Leo. You've been avoiding everyone. I miss you,” Jason stumbles through his point, then firmly lands the ending, “I care about you as Leo, not just as part of the Seven.”

Leo looks conflicted, but answers, “I’ve just been really nauseous. My feeds are working fine, but as soon as I eat I feel like I'm gonna get sick. Been puking up my formula too, still feel like I could puke more,” he motions at the tub on his lap. 

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Jason follows up. 

“Just keep everyone else off my back. I don't wanna distract from the quest, I'm already weighing us down enough,” Leo self-deprecatingly answers. 

“If anything, you're weighing us down the least. You're like one of those inflatable car dealership tube things, dude,” Piper lightly jokes. 

“I personally kin stick bugs more, thank you very much,” Leo quips, “Or maybe Gumby. That feels more cEDS.”

“What's a Gumby?” Jason asks, confused. 

“He's a cartoon character that's lanky and bendy. There's toys too, I'll show you one day,” Piper chuckles, then rolls her eyes, “Leo's being annoying and semantic.”

“Annoying and semantic are my middle names!” Leo keeps joking, then winces again as he clutches his stomach, “Fucking shit, this hurts.”

He sits up a little more, like he's expecting to get sick again. Right on cue, Leo retches and brings up more undigested food from yesterday. Well they're called meds not miracles, Piper supposes. To be fair, the last couple days were all meals that don't agree with Leo usually— heavy foods, lots of fiber, hard to digest. 

Jason rubs Leo's back for a minute, then realizes the time, “I've gotta get back before they send another person. I'll come back down later, okay?”

Leo nods, real small like he doesn't wanna move too much. At that, it just leaves Piper and Leo again. She grabs him some Gatorade and cracks it open, “Try some small sips, you're hella dehydrated and I'd have to explain to Hedge if I took fluids from medbay.”

He takes it and has a few tentative sips. If there's anything about Leo, it's that he's a pro at dealing with vomit. Seriously, at Wilderness School this was a multiple times a day, everyday, for months kind of deal. As much as this sucks, Leo would classify this as light work. 

Luckily, it seems to stay down for a whole hour. The worst of it has seemingly passed, now Leo really just needs some rest. Which, to be fair, isn't hard. He's exhausted and wipes the fuck out pretty fast, giving Piper the time to leave a note and sneak back up to the higher decks. 

She finds the rest of the crew in the rec room, lightly chatting over a movie that's playing in the background. Everybody's acting like nothing is wrong and Piper kind of hates it. 

“Hey, Piper!” Frank greets her, “Did you get the A/C fixed?”

Oh yeah, the lie.

“Leo's still working on it, just doesn't need my help anymore. He thinks it'll take the rest of the night, prolly,” Piper piles onto it. 

“I thought he said that it was working fine after the last battle, it's weird that it suddenly broke after he just looked over it,” Annabeth observes like a little shitass. That girl misses nothing. 

Piper shrugs, “I don't know, it's just what he told me,” she begrudgingly decides to play it dumb and then plops down next to Jason. 

“How's Leo?” Jason whispers into her ear. 

“Sleeping it off,” Piper whispers back. 

“I'm still annoyed that he made you do his dishes,” Frank tries to commiserate with Piper, “It's not fair that he's putting that on you.”

“Eh, I like doing dishes. He made amazing food, it's like a thank you,” Piper tries to excuse. 

“But you always cover his day for dinners too, which is still him doing the same thing. He talks weirdly about women too, I don't like it,” Frank continues. 

Okay. So admittedly, Piper can see where Frank's coming from. She does a lot of domestic labor for Leo and he talks about getting ladies all the time. However, may she emphasize, she literally only does the labor that Leo literally cannot do. It's not like he's ordering her to make him a sandwich on demand after a long day in the office. 

Another thing that Frank, and most people, have never bothered to learn about Leo is that he's literally bisexual with a preference towards guys. To anybody with a half decent gaydar, Leo clocks instantly. Even though he's pretty open about it, none of the demigods have bothered asking and just glaze over the way he ogles over men more. 

In all honesty? It's not even ogling. He just appreciates pretty people and wouldn't mind a relationship. Piper knows that they're being racist to Leo— directly feeding into the stereotype that Indigenous and Latino men are dangerous predators. They don't even bother to learn that Leo identifies as Zapotec before he identifies as Latino, though. They see his last name and assume.

“You don't know him at all, what the fuck are you trying to accuse him of?” Piper finds herself shooting back before she can stop herself. 

“He's obviously being sexist, you deserve a better friend,” Frank says like the sky is blue. 

“Leo's not sexist, you don't know him at all,” Piper repeats. 

“I don't need to know him to recognize sexism. My mom was military, it doesn't take a degree to see patterns,” Frank doubles down. 

Hazel nods in agreement, “He's old fashioned.”

Piper barks out a laugh, “No he's fucking not. Holy fuck, you guys don't know him at all and are just being racist.” 

“He's always looking at you, you're literally dating Jason. It's disrespectful,” Hazel adds.

“I've noticed that too,” Annabeth agrees. 

It's times like this where Piper wishes she could just scream at all of them and tell them the truth. That she's Leo's caregiver because he's her best friend. That he looks at her because it feels safe and he might need help. That he's so fucking sick that none of them can probably imagine it. That he's cares so fucking much about this and not getting in the way that he's destroying his body. That he's a fucking queer, Indigenous man and none of them have ever given two shits about him to learn those things Piper learned within a day of meeting him. 

“That's not fair, ‘Beth. You wouldn't say that about Reid just because he likes guys and is my best friend. Leo’s always nice to them,” Percy defends him, 

Thank every fucking god out there that somebody on this flying boat has common sense. 

“Back up, we're not being racist,” Frank defends themselves. 

“You're accusing an Indigenous guy of preying on women based on literally nothing and villainizing him for things he cannot change. You're no better than the shitass judge that incarcerated him at our last school,” Piper doesn't hesitate, although being careful not to reveal anything they don't know. 

Everybody knows at least a little bit about the Nevada Wilderness School that Piper, Leo, and sorta Jason attended. Being demigods, most of them are sorely familiar with how fucked up those types of schools can get. Leo doesn't go into details, but sometimes he makes jokes about the hikes or Hedge. They know Piper's insulting them.

“Leo's Mexican, not Indigenous,” Annabeth says, very unhelpfully because most of the others nod in agreement. 

“What was the name of Hazel's school? The one where she went with Leo's great grandpa. Remind me?” Piper pointedly asks. 

“St. Agnes Academy for Colored Children and Indians,” Hazel recites. 

“Say that last part again, for Indians. As in Indigenous people? How the fuck do y'all think Sammy was there and somehow Leo isn't Native?” Piper continues interrogating them. 

“His last name is Valdez, that's a Mexican name,” Frank tries to reason. 

“That's a Spanish name. His middle name is Zapotec. I know you guys don't like him, but you can't be anti-Indigenous trying to justify it,” Piper frustratedly explains, “That's racist. None of you are Native to the Americas. None of you get to tell us who we are.”

“Why didn't he tell us?” Hazel genuinely wonders aloud. 

“He shouldn't have had to. Leo constantly talks about being from Oaxaca. You know, the place known for its vibrant Indigenous cultures,” Piper lectures them, then forces herself to level her tone, “If y'all didn't know the thing I clocked the first time I saw Leo, what else do you think you're missing?”

They're real quiet for a few beats. Piper takes it as an invitation to continue, “Also, I don't appreciate y'all assuming Leo forces me to do things for him. I am completely capable of making my own choices. It's the same, racist coin to assume I'm inept.”

Gods, their faces are like they've never even thought about it before. Which, to be fair, they probably haven't. There's this thing that people do with Leo that Piper's noticed where they just… forget every personal detail he's ever told them. Sure, he coats them in jokes, but he doesn't really straight up lie much. 

Piper feels like she and Jason have mastered the art of actually listening to Leo. Honestly? It's not that hard. He's really obvious with his tone about when he's not being serious. 

Also, that's not even mentioning how fucking willfully oblivious everyone is to not notice that Leo's some flavor of disabled. He tries really hard to hide it, but it's easy to notice if they would only slightly try. The braces, the way he's constantly pushing joints back into places, the GJ tubing that peeks out, his pump beeping.

Or, yanno, the way he doesn't fucking eat, Piper works herself back into anger about this all. She longs for a day where her best friend doesn't feel like he needs to hide. He's sick as shit two floors down and nobody knows. It's not fair. Getting out of Wilderness School was supposed to be his freedom. 

“I think it'd be best if y'all think about how to make it up to Leo and Piper. None of us would be here without them,” Jason breaks the silence, then turns to her, “Pipes, I'm getting tired. Wanna come lay down?” 

Piper nods, she can't keep getting pissed off. This type of thing can get her going for ages if nobody stops her. Instead of going to Jason's room, they head towards the engine room. 

“Thanks for helping, it really meant a lot,” Piper gives Jason a quick kiss. 

“I mean, it's the least I could do. I know we can't tell them why Leo always asks you for help, but I can at least try to have them put things in perspective,” Jason shrugs. 

“You really don't think any of us would be here without both of us? I mean… Leo and I always agreed that we're the weakest of the crew,” Piper admits. 

Jason gives this look of pure confusion, “What? Who told you that? You saved Leo's life back in Nevada, he would've died without you. Nothing about this quest could've happened without you two. We'd still be at Camp.”

They arrive at Leo's secret downstairs bedroom and knock a couple times, announcing themselves, “Hey hey, it's me and Jason,” Piper says. 

The door unlocks. Leo is still laying in bed and waves, “Welcome back to Flareland, didn't get enough the first time around?”

“Haha,” Piper dryly replies, “How long you been up?”

Leo shrugs, “My alarm to start my night routine went off.”

Piper glances around the room and actually processes the cart of medical supplies in the corner of the room, “You have enough that you don't need to ration anymore, right?”

At the beginning of the quest, there was such a rush to get the Argo off the ground that the Medbay was really… lacking in everything that was needed. It didn't help that Will happened to be out of town, so that whole coordination kind of went to shit. At every stop so far, Piper's been going on secret missions to get Leo more of the meds and supplies he needs. For a while, he needed to ration. 

“Thank fuck, no,” Leo sighs in relief, “I have like 2.5 weeks of backstock now. Could use more next stop, though.”

“Bet,” Piper smiles, then starts Leo's nighttime routine. 

Jason helps too. He usually does the feeding tube stuff because it's consistent, whereas the meds are a complicated schedule that Piper knows by heart. Leo says that he's talked Jason through the whole thing before, but it just took a while. The medication names are hard and Jason's not the best at reading. 

“You feeling up to feeds tonight?” Jason asks. 

Leo runs them overnight so they're done by breakfast. It's technically only supplemental, so it's just enough to keep him alive if he can't eat by mouth. Still, nobody's questioning that Leo definitely needs them. Honestly, he probably needs to up it, but has been refusing for the sake of the quest. 

“Yeah, but I wanna lower the rate and double how much I'm running. I don't think I can stomach anything except maybe liquids tomorrow,” Leo firmly decides. 

Piper turns around with a bunch of different meds prepped, “You get sick again?”

Leo nods, “I had another episode, but I think it's ‘cause I tried to eat.”

She glances at her watch, it's been long enough that Leo can have more antiemetics on top of his normal night meds. One by one, Piper pushes each of them through his feeding tube, passing it off to Jason to finish setting up the pump. 

“Sorry it's so fucking hard today,” Piper apologizes, “Did you hear Frank right before you left?”

“Sorta. Same shit they always say about me: I'm doing nothing to help, I'm useless, you can do better than me, blah blah blah,” Leo self-depreciates. His tone is light, but Piper knows it hurts him a lot. 

“Nah, there's no doing better than you, unalii,” Piper smiles. 

“Also she went off on all of them right before coming here, it was fucking legendary, Leo. They were like ‘Leo's sexist,” and Piper was all ‘no he's not and here's an organized list detailing how you're being racist.’ It was great. Wish I could've recorded it,” Jason gushes. 

“Beauty Queen said her inside thoughts to the rest of the Seven?” Leo chuckles, “About fucking time. Tell me everything.”

Piper gives her best friend a play-by-play, including inner dialogue. She does make a point to mention how Percy seemed to be nicer than the others. More pro-Leo and less Antihero Leo truthing, at the very least. 

Leo explains that he caught Percy one day when he was on night watch and Leo was trying to feel less nauseous while sleeping through the power of fresh air. They bonded over both being chronically ill. Percy’s got some lung shit going on. Piper doesn't know the details, but she's noticed that he coughs a lot and carries an inhaler. 

“Wait, did they seriously not know I'm Native? I talk about it all the time. My great grandpa was literally a residential school survivor. We have talked about this, surely,” Leo's genuinely shocked. 

“That's what I said! How is the future of humanity banking on a bunch of people that can't figure out their close questmate who openly talks about his culture is Native,” Piper commiserates. 

Leo shrugs, “I mean, technically—”

“Nope,” Piper shuts him down, “Borders are fake, we come from the same lands.”

Leo sharply inhales and clutches his arms closer to his stomach, “I'm too nauseous to argue with you, so you win this time, Beauty Queen.”

“Get some sleep, I'll be by tomorrow morning to get you up,” Piper decides to actually call it a night. 

At that, the two head up to Jason's room. It's been a long day and they're still in the middle of nowhere at this point, so sleep is very much welcome. She snuggles up nicely in her boyfriend's arms, both of them quickly falling asleep. 

Piper is usually the first to get up. Not that the other demigods sleep all day, it's just that Piper has always gotten up early. It doesn't take her too long to throw on some clothes and head to the kitchen to make herself something quick. As she's leaving the galley, she’s mid-bite when she accidentally rams into Annabeth. 

“Shit! Sorry,” Piper apologizes, “Usually, nobody's up for at least another half hour.”

“It's okay, Percy accidentally woke me up,” explains Annabeth. 

That piques Piper's interest. Usually they sleep separately. Percy says it's because he's sorta restless while he sleeps and it keeps Annabeth up. Annabeth insists she doesn't care… but she still usually goes to her own room at some point in the night. It's not really Piper's business, anyways. 

Returning to last night's argument, Annabeth also helps Percy out with a bunch of stuff. Well, as much as he lets her. Piper can tell that he's hiding a lot from them. That's okay, though. She doesn't need to know about the nitty gritty details to show a bit of empathy. 

“Anyways, I'll let you get to Leo's,” Annabeth steps to the side. 

“Wait, what? How'd you know that?” Piper questions. 

“You pass by the bunks on the way to his, that one downstairs that he usually stays in and thinks nobody knows about, and you always come to breakfast together,” Annabeth recites her evidence like it's obvious. She hesitates before continuing, “Sometimes… mornings are harder for Percy, so I help him get going.”

Piper nods, “I like keeping Leo company in the morning. 

“Percy and I talked for a while last night after you left. We weren't being fair to Leo. You're right, we were making assumptions and we don't actually know him. I'm sorry, both to you and Leo,” Annabeth apologizes. 

Piper hums along agreeably, “Percy didn't tell you—”

“No, nothing. He mostly talked about himself, honestly. I… it was hard for me to realize how much I don't know about Percy, so I know there must be a lot I'm missing about Leo,” Annabeth answers.

“Maybe when we all get out of this, we can actually get the chance to know each other,” Piper says, then glances down at her watch, “Shit, I gotta go. It was really nice talking, Annabeth. We should get more girl time.”

Annabeth smiles, “That sounds nice, see you around.”

At that, Piper heads down to Leo's not so secret room. It's unlocked, but she knocks a few times before entering. He's used to her coming in around this time anyways. When she opens the door, he's still laying in bed like usual. She peers over to his bag of formula, still running at a slow pace. 

“Morning, Beauty Queen, how are you?” Leo asks. 

Piper helps him sit up and get on his braces, “I'm alright. Me and Jason slept well, I made myself a breakfast sandwich and grabbed you a bagel, and I ran into Annabeth. Literally. We talked too, though. How about you?”

“Slept fine, don't know if I can stomach the bagel though,” Leo admits. 

“I also brought you one of your weird nutrition drinks,” Piper holds out a tumbler. 

“Banana and vanilla are perfectly normal, fuck you,” Leo petulantly crosses his arms, “You just don't appreciate art.”

“Whatever floats your giant flying boat,” Piper rolls her eyes, “Meds, whatcha feeling?”

“Max out the antinausea meds, and some more painkillers,” decides Leo. 

“Worse than before?” Piper pauses, he doesn't usually ask for extra painkillers unless it's bad. 

Leo shakes his head, “I dislocated some ribs puking yesterday, and my hip and shoulders again in my sleep. All back in their assigned seats now. It hurts like a bitch, but I'll survive.”

Gods, it never truly stops being jarring to hear how Leo just casually endures injuries on the regular that bring most people down for weeks. Piper doesn't make a scene of it, but it does make her wonder about if the others would discredit Leo as quickly as they do if they knew. Just a thought puzzle, though. 

Anyways, she gives him his meds without arguing, then sits down and eats his bagel while he slowly sips on the nutrition shake. 

“I'll try to show my face at lunch, I don't like making you and Jason cover for me so much,” Leo mentions, “What happened at the meeting I missed?”

People always assume that Leo misses things because he forgets about them. Sure, he's got the worst ADHD of any of the demigods, but that means he's set up a billion different systems to make things work for him. Of course, this is because he has a tragic backstory where he used to get punished for forgetting things. Nonetheless, he doesn't actually forget important things, he just uses it as an excuse. 

Piper summarizes all the updates and Leo seems to fully understand. He also gives her all the updates on stuff around the Argo, including more cover story for the falsified A/C repairs from yesterday. Leo admits that he should've thought of a better excuse, like something with a niche part of the engine. Piper thinks that nobody would've thought of a good excuse in the middle of violently getting sick. 

After eating, Piper helps Leo finish getting ready and the two part ways to do her own thing. Actually, it's about to be Piper's shift to keep watch, so she heads up to the deck. Coach Hedge is lounging there while gnawing on the can the tomatoes from last night's salsa came in. 

“Hey, McLean,” Hedge spots her, “You just come from Leo's?”

Piper nods. The satyr knows a decent amount about Leo's health because he was a staff member at Wildness School. He saw him when he was dying from malnourishment. That to say, he knows that Piper helps out Leo with caregiving stuff and keeps it on the down low.

“He wasn't looking too hot last night, pun intended,” Hedge comments. 

“I think he's flaring and doesn't wanna admit it,” Piper pauses, looking around to make sure nobody else is in earshot before continuing, “I'm scared he's killing himself for this quest. I can't lose him.”

“He's good at staying quiet,” Coach Hedge doesn't explicitly disagree.

Neither of them say what they're thinking: Leo's good at performing until he drops. It's been beaten into him.  

“I hate how little everybody else thinks of him, I got pissed at them last night about it,” Piper admits. 

Hedge chuckles, “So I heard, you sure got a mouth on you. Good. People get what they have coming, balance and what have you. Next time, record it so I can add it to a compilation.”

“You're making a compilation?” Piper deadpans, “Same guy that doesn't understand Instagram yet?”

“Gods forbid a satyr has hobbies outside of nature! Kids, not appreciating their elders,” Coach humphs, then gets up, “I'm hitting the hay. Don't bother me unless disaster strikes.”

Piper's shift is only a few hours until lunch. When she gets there, Leo's already sat chatting with Jason. It looks like it's leftovers from dinner, just in rice bowl form instead. Leo has a small bowl of plain rice in front of him that looks pretty untouched. 

“The Beauty Queen is here!” Leo cheers, “Finally, we peasants can eat.”

Piper rolls her eyes, “As if,” she serves herself up a bowl, then steals some of Leo's rice. 

“Thanks,” Leo smiles, “Any hazardous beings on your watch? Strange new threats? A particularly interesting fish?”

“Whole lotta nothing,” Piper takes a bite of her food, it tastes just as good as leftovers, “You?”

Leo looks like he's about to answer, then other people sit down by them so he shuts up. Piper hates that he feels like he can't talk around them. He takes the world's smallest bite of his rice and waves eerily politely. This is an awful game.

“Leo, thanks for making this. It tastes really good, you'll have to teach me sometime,” Annabeth compliments him. 

“Oh, yeah. No problem. It's not hard, mostly just gotta marinate the tofu and get the right spice balance. Most recipes really rely on the flavor of the meat, so it takes some work to get that same texture and taste,” Leo starts rambling, “Sorry, I can write it down for you. You don't wanna hear about that.”

“How'd you learn to cook like that?” asks Annabeth. 

The real answer is Leo was a foster kid with severe GI issues in neglectful homes. He had to learn or else he'd die. Tofu has always been easier for him to digest because it's softer, so he learned out of necessity. Apparently, a couple of his arrests were from him stealing it at the grocery store. 

But Leo can't say any of that. Instead, he shrugs, “Runs in the family.”

“It's different from most of the tacos I had growing up, in a good way,” Percy adds on. 

“I learned the Zapotec way, we process our tortillas differently and use more of the Sisters than Americanized versions. Also mole, like savory chocolate,” explains Leo, “The Sisters are corn, squash, and beans. Comes from foodways from a bunch of different tribes, including the Zapotec.”

Everybody looks shocked as Leo rattles off the information. It's pretty basic stuff, honestly— the type of thing most Natives connected with their culture can easily talk about. 

“What's a food way?” Annabeth asks, accidentally separating the words. 

“One word, foodway. It’s the idea that food is more than just something we eat— it's our beliefs, culture, and knowledge around how we get, prepare, and eat it. Like how you eat burgers with your hands at a barbecue and not with a fork and knife at a five star restaurant,” Leo easily answers, “It's easier to learn how to cook when you don't just think about it alone. At least that's how I was taught. Sorry I'm talking so much, Pipes told me your plan, sounds good. I'll shut up now.”

There's this slight moment where everybody's facial expression drops a little. It's the exact moment where they realize that Leo makes himself so much smaller than they thought before. When Leo feels so shitty, he doesn't have it in him to mask much at all. That means the facade slips and some of the more negative thoughts come to light. Stuff they never see. 

“I asked. I wanted to know,” Annabeth sincerely replies, “I'm sorry I haven't listened to you before.”

Leo shrugs again, “It's alright, most people don't. It'd help if I said anything worth listening to,” he tries to crack a joke. 

Realizing he's really not helping his cause, Leo changes the topic and focuses on eating his lunch. It's almost ironic how nobody seems to notice this intentional move on his part. Honestly, it's impressive. He's not even really eating, and nobody's noticing. Then again, they never do. 

“Aren't you going to eat?” Frank asks Leo. 

“I'm not that hungry, I ate right before this,” Leo makes the most suspicious excuse ever. 

“No you didn't, you weren't at breakfast,” Frank immediately rebuttals. 

Leo pointedly takes a few bigger bites of rice, “I have some food in my room, didn't feel like getting up.”

“You're never in your room,” Hazel points out. 

Piper can see exactly where this is going. Instead of taking it to heart that they've gotta do some internal work there, they settled on the idea that Leo has an eating disorder. In all fairness, it sorta looks like it. The dude barely eats, always disappears after meals, is lanky, and makes bad excuses like these. Not to mention all his scars. The fact he's struggled with mental health is literally on his sleeve. 

The debate goes on for a while longer, until Hazel finally blurts out that everybody's worried about Leo. 

“Nothing is out of the ordinary, I'm still fine to do everything for the quest, there's nothing y'all need to worry about,” Leo evenly says, which is technically not a lie. 

That doesn't help the situation and they all keep on going back and forth for even longer. Piper doesn't have it in her to try to cut in, and also she doesn't like speaking for him if she doesn't need to. Leo's handling it, albeit not amazingly, but it's hard when the real explanation is one he'll never say. 

Leo purses his lips, “I need to go, sorry,” he abruptly gets up. 

Piper's familiar with this maneuver: Leo feels like he's about to barf. 

“No, we can't keep avoiding this. It's messing with the whole crew,” Frank stops him. 

“Seriously, let me go,” Leo tries to maneuver around him. 

Frank grabs his arm, “C’mon dude, a little talking won't hurt you.”

Leo tugs his arm away, apparently in the wrong way because a pop and a wince reveal an evident dislocated shoulder. It works though. Frank horrifiedly drops his arm, allowing Leo to dart off to the bathroom. Piper follows and just prays nobody else does. 

She knocks in the stall door a couple times, “It's just me,” the door unlocks. 

Leo's hunched over the toilet. Piper kneels next to him and rubs his back as he starts gagging. Soon enough, lunch makes another appearance. Even though he has the ability to drain his stomach through his feeding tube, Leo doesn't usually get the chance to when he's flaring. 

There's a break in the waves of heaving, “Knew it,” Leo dryly laughs. He did call that solids wouldn't work today. 

Piper doesn't get to say anything before the next wave hits and he's retching again, “I'm here, I've got you, this isn't forever,” she comforts him. 

He finally sits back, “I feel so fucking sick, Piper. The world's gonna end because I can't get my shit together.”

Here's the thing to understand about Leo: he does not admit to feeling sick often. Considering he's literally always nauseous and in pain, he doesn't find it to be anything to call home about. When he admits to feeling bad, it means he feels truly and utterly horrible. 

“C’mon, it's just a travel day. You can lay down some more. Better to puke in the comfort of your room, right?” Piper tries to encourage Leo to get up.

Leo sharply inhales, “One sec.”

He carefully pushes on his wrist until they pop, then rotates his arm until his shoulder makes a similar noise. Next, he presses on his ribcage and rolls one of his ankles until everything clunks back into place. 

“Ready. Running and dropping to the floor like a sack of potatoes to puke wasn't a good idea,” Leo says like it's nothing, using the grab bar to hoist himself up. 

When they open the door, the entire crew is staring back at them. 

“Dude, we know you're not okay. You just puked for the past half hour,” Frank seriously states. 

“Something I ate didn't agree with me, I'm just gonna go lay down,” Leo shrugs through his technically not a lie, “Might be a stomach bug, I don't know.”

Now it's firmly in lie territory. 

“Demigods don't get sick and we all ate the same food,” Hazel points out. 

“I suggest y'all drop it and let me go rest, unless you like getting puked on,” Leo half threatens, although it's definitely more a promise. 

That gets people to move and Leo more or less drags Piper behind him. Not that Piper would've left him alone, though. He seems totally unphased by whatever judgemental looks people are giving him. As soon as the door to his room slams shut, Leo beelines to his bathroom and promptly gets sick again. 

Piper peers over and sees the mix of formula and bile. Before she has the chance to say anything, Leo talks first, “Get Coach.”

She quickly gets up and finds the satyr trying to get the others of the crew to chill out about Leo. Well, more like to just drop it. 

Piper taps him, “Leo's asking for you.”

Hedge was the nurse at Wilderness School and has actual medical training, so it's implied that they should definitely stop by Medbay to pick up a few things first. He moves like he knows exactly what to grab, then follows Piper to Leo's room. Well, his bathroom. They can both hear Leo gagging and coughing. 

“Valdez, I'm here,” Hedge firmly says, even though Piper can detect the care in his voice. 

“Can't keep anything down, haven't for days. Keep puking feeds too,” Leo admits. That's worse than what Piper was aware of. 

Hedge nods. In the past, this has meant that he needs to give his GI system a break so it can stop freaking out; however, he still needs nutrition. Hence, this is becoming one of those times they turn to IV nutrition. 

According to Will Solace, Leo handles TPN scarily well because of some demigod factor. Seriously, he doesn't need to taper and he doesn't get any side effects or risks usually associated with it. He jokes that it's the only thing he can brag about being better at. 

“Are you able to sit through a placement?” Hedge asks. 

Leo shakes his head and swallows back a gag, pursing his lips like he wants to apologize. 

“That's okay. No sorries. Here, turn so that you're on the side of the toilet and I can get to your arm,” Hedge doesn't accept the unnecessary apology. He sighs when he looks at Leo's arm, “Di immortales, you really need a central line soon.”

Leo shakes his head harder. Hard enough that he makes himself sick again with all the motion. He's told Piper a billion times: he's avoiding getting any kind of central line for as long as physically possible. They're a bitch and a half to maintain and a direct line to his heart. 

Nonetheless, Hedge manages to secure an IV in place with a mesh wrap and doesn't hesitate to push some of Leo's rescue meds. Thankfully, they kick in pretty quickly and Leo finally gets the chance to sit back to breathe. 

“My shoulder’s dislocated again,” Leo hums, his eyes half closed like it's no big deal. He sharply inhales and clutches his torso, “And my SI joint.”

Even though the meds stop his GI system from uno reversing everything in it, they don't stop the pain. He's still cramping like his body wants to continue its war path. It doesn't help that when his gastroparesis is flaring so much, he can't dedicate his usual amount of energy towards keeping his joints in place. Overall, it's a lot of pain. 

Hedge does some satyr magic to put them back in place, then gets out some KT tape. 

Leo stops him, “No, it tears off my skin or I get a rash from it.”

Part of his cEDS is that Leo's got this wildly sensitive, fragile skin. It's the main reason his scars look as bad as they do. Piper's noticed that Leo generally refuses most adhesives if he can help it. He never said why before, but now she definitely knows his logic. Which, to be fair, maybe she should've drawn that conclusion on her own. 

“Alright, kid. Let's get you horizontal time, then,” Hedge listens to him. As cold as he seems, Hedge always listens to Leo. 

The satyr carries him to his bed and helps him get situated, then starts running a bag of TPN that's been pre-balanced for Leo. It's far from his first time needing it. 

“I'll be fine in a few days, my body's just freaking out from the salad and stew we had a few days ago,” explains Leo. 

“I'll make a stop happen, we're coming up on some islands where we could stop and resupply before we hit the mainland,” Hedge decides, buying them the much needed time. 

“I need more celestial bronze, stocking up for defense repairs. It's a good excuse. For tonight, just say I ate something bad when I was late-night snacking,” Leo decides, making it clear there's no way he's moving much for the next few days, “Pipes, you wanna help me with soldering?”

Leo needs exactly nobody's help with soldering ever. That's his code for he doesn't trust himself to safely be alone. Not because he thinks he's gonna purposely hurt himself, but because he knows he won't be able to do much independently without dislocating something. 

It's nothing Piper hasn't witnessed before, and usually it's just hanging out with a side of some medical stuff. She likes having an excuse to hang out with her best friend. Sometimes, he gets sorta insecure about not being able to be better company, but Piper always shuts that shit down. 

“Alright, I'll leave you two be, Grace will probably come by at some point,” Coach Hedge gets up, satisfied with how Leo's doing. 

“Wanna watch something?” Piper turns to her friend. 

“My head is killing me, I'll pass,” Leo firmly decides, “Sorry I'm such a bummer, I might be able to work on a project but that's it. I'm still really nauseous, sorry.”

That's another downside of the meds. The only thing they really do is stop him from constantly throwing up. They don't stop his nausea. They don't stop his pain. They do the exact bare minimum to get him out of the crisis and that's it. Sometimes, they don't even do that. In Piper's opinion, that's a real shitty deal. 

Piper waves him off, “Nothing to be sorry about. I've got plenty to talk about.”

She talks for a long while. Leo likes hearing about Piper's various family traditions. He's got a special interest in Indigenous cultures, specifically about foodways. It sounds ironic, but he swears it helps him understand his chronic illnesses better. Makes him feel more connected to the land. 

When he has more energy, Leo usually makes all these wild connections that Piper couldn't even dream of knowing. It's another way that he's so much smarter than people give him credit for. Even in school where he clearly shows how well he grasps everything, they don't believe him. Piper's been noticing how the Argo crew do the same. She hates it. 

They get interrupted by a knock on the door, “It's Jason!” the demigod shouts from the other side of the threshold. 

Piper gets up and lets him in, “Hey,” she gives him a quick kiss. 

“Hi,” Jason kisses her back, but seems distracted, “Leo, are you okay?”

“Surviving,” Leo shrugs, “Sorry, can somebody help me sit up and pass me an emesis bag? Welcome to Leo Flareland.”

Jason warmly smiles, “I gotchu. I'm down to split time too since we got downtime.”

There's only six demigods at Camp that know about Leo's health: Piper, Jason, Will, Percy-ish, and two of Leo's siblings. Only the first three of them have really seen Leo during a flare. That to say, Jason is pretty familiar with the protocol. It took some time for him to come around to it, mostly because Hera fucked with everybody's memories, but he's great now. 

Piper watches as Leo takes measured breaths, the way he does when he's trying not to puke. Very seldom does this actually work. This is one of the times it doesn't work because he starts retching again. She glances at the clock, it's been long enough that his meds are wearing off but he's got a little longer until he can have more. 

Jason rubs his back and talks in Latin. It's close enough to Spanish that Leo can understand it, but Piper has no clue what he's saying. She doesn't need to know. It's sweet to watch. And it's also nice to get a break. She slips out, saying that she'll be back after a nap and dinner. 

In all honesty, Piper's half convinced that Jason isn't actually all that into her. He's caring, don't get her wrong, but he just doesn't really seem to be into any romantic parts. Well, he's good at faking it. Nobody questions it. Piper can feel the difference, though. It's a performance that he's convincing himself of as much as everybody else. 

That's not a right now problem, though. The world might end and the nuances of a goddess-arranged relationship is low on the list of priorities. When they get out of this, Piper will bring it up. Honestly, she's not even really feeling it that much either. Maybe they just need to get out of this crisis to give it a real chance, though. 

One nap later, Piper heads to the galley for dinner. Tonight's Percy's night to cook and he's making pork adobo and veggies. Yeah, even if Leo could keep down anything, that's a food that never agrees with him. It's good that he's missing dinner tonight. She loves it though, so more for her. 

“Where's Leo?” Hazel asks as soon as Piper sits down with the rest of the crew. 

“His room, food poisoning from his late night snacking,” Piper rattles off the excuse. 

“C’mon, I know you don't believe that,” Frank pushes the issue, Hazel elbows him. 

Piper sighs, “Look, Leo deserves privacy. What I can tell you is that it's not an eating disorder and he's gonna be fine. If you won't trust him, then try to trust me.”

“I wanted to apologize to you and Leo. You're right. I didn't even realize what I was doing, hurting you both, but it was wrong and neither of you deserve it. I didn't know how much I was putting on you and Leo that I brought from before. I'm sorry,” Hazel says in a genuine tone, “Do you think that Leo would be okay with seeing me? I get it if not.”

Piper is kinda stunned that somebody as young as Hazel can craft such a good apology, “Thanks, wow, uh… that means a lot. I really appreciate it.”

She pauses and glances at Coach Hedge, trying to figure out what's okay to reveal, “I don't think today is good for Leo. He's really not feeling great, but maybe tomorrow? He's not trying to avoid y'all, it's just complicated.”

“Welp,” Hedge claps his hands and gets up, “You kids will have plenty of time to talk ooey gooey feelings. We're making a supply stop for a few days at some islands. I know the naiads there, it'll be safe.”

Surprisingly, nobody asks any questions. Even more surprisingly, the next day passes without any attacks or action. It's genuinely just a supply/rest stop. Who knew? That's great for Piper, though, because it gives her the time to spend with Leo and Jason. 

Another plus side is that Leo's doing better. Well… comparatively better. By most healthy people's scales, he's still awful; however, his baseline scares most abled people anyways. Shit, it scared Piper when they first met at Wildness School. 

Anyways, they're hanging out watching How It's Made, but Leo says exactly how it's made before they actually say it. He's watched all the episodes a million times and has them memorized at this point. They're in the middle of the eraser episode when there's a knock on the door. 

“Hi, it's me and everyone else,” Hazel says from the other side. 

“It's unlocked,” Leo replies, Piper had told him to expect this at some point. 

The other demigods crowd the room. There really isn't a whole lot of real estate, so Piper moves to sit on the bed. 

“How are you?”

Leo shrugs, “I'm alright, the bronze looked great, did me a real solid.”

See, part of anticipating this conversation is Leo having to admit that he has to tell the rest of the crew the truth. It's not feasible to hide anymore. Even if he could, there's the whole ass IV pole loaded with different pumps and tubing that's obviously connected to him. Officially, it's unavoidable. 

“Are you…” Frank sorta eyes the TPN. 

“This sweetheart?" Leo smirks, patting the bag, “No big deal, nothing I haven't had a million times before.”

Despite his attempts to lighten the mood, everybody else talks in stiff tones. To their credit, they do all actually apologize to Leo and he does seem to accept it. He's kinda quick to forgive, in Piper's opinion. It's like nobody actually has before in his life so he takes it at face value. 

Frank is in the middle of his apology (it's more of a ramble with a lot of excuses, men being mediocre once again) when Leo stops him, “Wait a sec.”

He reaches for an emesis bag and sits very still for a couple moments. Quite predictably, Leo starts getting sick. Despite not having any nutrition going through his digestive system, he's still been puking up bile pretty consistently throughout the day even though he's been hooked up to a drain bag. This is normal during flares. It doesn't take too long to calm down, more so annoying for him than anything else. 

“Sorry, you can keep going,” Leo switches back to conversation like it's nothing, “Or I guess I can explain. I sorta owe y'all it.”

“You don't have to, unalii,” Piper reminds him, even though everybody's staring like they're expecting an explanation. 

Leo’s expression changes, like he really realizes that he doesn’t actually owe anybody anything. People always ask so much of him, like he’s gotta lay out every single detail of his life to be believed. Granted, that’s been true most of his life. Still, he deserves better and they all gotta save the world anyways, with or without the extra lore. 

“It’s a chronic condition I was born with that’s flaring up right now. I don’t have an eating disorder, I actually really like food and cooking, I just can’t all the time,” Leo carefully decides his words, “I’ll be fine again in a few days probably. I get that it looks bad, but it’s well-managed and I’ll still be fine for the quest.”

They all look like they have bad questions. As if they’ve done anything to deserve her best friend’s answers. It’s so selfish. They want so much out of him, but never even try to care about him. Seriously, Piper can’t spend time with Leo without somebody interrupting and asking (demanding) him to fix something. 

Maybe Hazel is sorta okay, and Annabeth seems more confused than cruel. They both just seem more ignorant than anything else. The thing is, Hazel tends to go along with Frank purely because they’re both Roman. Some bullshit about getting each other more and Jason being “different now.” Piper disagrees with it. 

According to Leo who heard from Percy, Annabeth just sorta shuts down when any talk about disability comes up. Like there’s that same mental block Jason had when he was first getting to know Leo for real. Personally, Piper just doesn’t understand how everyone is so fucking dense. Leo is far more patient than her, because she would’ve gone off on them ages ago.

“...Are you dying?” Hazel nervously asks. 

“The fuck?” Piper can’t help but react. 

Leo shakes his head, “Nah, not anymore like I was when Piper met me. Seeing me this sick can be scary, but I'm not dying. I'm just sick. I have the stuff I need, and I'll be okay.”

He pauses for a couple seconds, everybody looks like they have questions but nobody's asking them. Maybe Piper is the scary bestie privilege or something. She never sees herself as scary, and nobody ever respects Aphrodite’s kids, but whatever. It works right now. 

Leo keeps talking, “Anyways, I totally get how you thought it was an eating disorder. Actually, I've gotten that a ton, so no worries. But yeah, I would love to eat more. Like 3 years ago, it was way more controlled and it was great.  I miss that sometimes. Eh, no worth in mourning what could be, though.”

“What happened?” Frank asks, naively. 

“You don't need to answer that,” Piper reminds Leo. She knows the story. It’s bad.

Leo carefully considers his words, “It’s all public record anyways. I had this really bad foster placement, they did a bunch of stuff but they also withheld all my meds. When I ran from them, I got arrested, which sent me into a 2 month flare, and then I got sentenced to Wilderness School where they withheld my meds again. Totally fucked my normal amount of pain levels and other bullshit.”

“Pain?” asks Hazel. 

“Oh yeah, I've been in pain my whole life. It's a multi-systemic condition, so the pain is everywhere. Flares just make it worse,” Leo nonchalantly answers, “Also because nobody likes being around somebody constantly puking. Not my sexiest moment, I know.”

“So it wasn't food poisoning?” Frank asks for confirmation. 

“I mean, close enough,” Leo shrugs, “...Except everything’s poison. But yeah, I guess you could think of it like that. I'm told it feels like it.”

Piper can't help but chuckle. 

“Don't make fun of the ableds, Beauty Queen. They get confused,” Leo stage whispers to her with a smirk, then turns back to everyone else, “Any other questions? Comments? Concerns? No offense, but talking this much is really hard when I'm like two seconds from another vom sesh.”

“We can leave if we're bothering you,” Percy speaks up for the group, “Just… yeah. Sorry and thanks for telling us all that.”

Leo waves him off, “Y’all are good to stay if you wanna, I’ll just be quieter.”

Jason checks the time, “I'm running late for my watch shift, sorry, I've gotta go,” he apologizes as he heads out, even though Leo definitely wasn't talking to him. 

“I can turn on a show, people can stay if they want,” Piper offers, then turns to Leo, “Unalii, your room, your choice.”

“I know it's a kids show, but my soul craves Dinosaur Train,” Leo decides, laying down and moving his legs to make more space on the bed, “Can I get more painkillers yet?”

Piper checks the time, “Yeah, here ya go,” she hands him a basket of medical supplies and starts the cartoon on the projector. 

Much to her own and Leo’s surprise, he manages to keep everything down without too much tribulation. She supposes it’s the little things to be grateful for. Also, it’s nice to spend time with her best friend. Even if he’s not that talkative, they don’t get to casually hang out nearly enough. The others are fine too, she supposes. 

They watch a few episodes and nothing really happens. It's good, though. Leo seems happy and everybody seems to like the show. Team bonding or whatever. Plus, Leo has been fidgeting with some scraps and made Piper a few different pieces of jewelry so far. That’s a hopeful sign that he’s not feeling too awful. It’s scary when he gets still. 

More expectedly so, a couple hours later Leo suddenly sits up and leans to his side to get sick again. It looks like it freaks out the other demigods. Piper finds it ironic that they can all face the end of the world like it's nothing, but a little puke gets them all worked up. Nonetheless, she can objectively understand that it's hard to watch Leo be so unwell. 

“Ugh, I dislocated my wrist and hip,” Leo winces, “Pipes, gimme an abled hand?”

“Gotchu,” Piper jumps back into caregiver mode. 

“It's my right side. Hold my forearm still with one hand and then with the other, push my wrist down and inwards. For my hip, lift my leg from the knee and calf, cradle them, then move it up and push towards me at a diagonal angle to my left,” Leo rattles off directions. 

Two loud thunks later, Leo sighs in relief and asks Piper to help him reposition a little. Nothing out of the ordinary, honestly. Piper doesn't think twice about it while he verbally walks her through everything. He then asks for everybody else to clear out before they can ask questions. It’s obvious he’s exhausted from trying to be “presentable” or whatever. 

When the room empties, it looks like he’s finally able to breathe. 

“Need anything else?” Piper asks, “Project, book, bathroom?”

Leo shakes his head, “Nah, I'm gonna sleep until I can have more meds. I'm feeling better though. Thanks, Beauty Queen.”

One of Leo's (non-divine) superpowers is that he can literally always fall asleep. No matter the noise or light level, he can make it happen. The only exception is sometimes when he's motion sick, but otherwise his ability to nap is totally unmatched. That to say, he quickly falls asleep despite the noise of everybody clearly talking right outside his room.

Piper, admittedly, also falls asleep for a few hours in the chair next to Leo's bed.

The thing that wakes both of them up is the Argo docking. That shit is impossible to sleep through... and also Hedge isn't the best pilot ever. It's clunky enough that it throws Piper out of the chair. Not that she could do any better, but it's still not particularly pleasant. One could say, up there in most unpleasant ways to get woken up.

Leo wakes up and immediately gets sick again. Scratch her previous statement, that’s the worst way to get woken up. As much as she empathizes with her best friend, Piper will never think it doesn’t suck to wake up and immediately feel that awful. He doesn’t ever explicitly say it, but he doesn’t exactly love it either. 

“Ugh,” Leo groans, pushing himself up against the wall until something pops, “Hedge is so bad at flying I puked and dislocated a shoulder. What the fuck?”

Piper laughs, “So anti-Leo.”

“You get it!” Leo exclaims, then processes that Piper’s still on the floor, “How are you doing? Did you get hurt?”

She shakes her head, “Nah, just got a rude awakening. I took a nap too, didn’t feel like dealing with everybody else.”

“Wanna keep avoiding people and play Kisima Inŋitchuŋa?” Leo asks, fully knowing she’ll say yes. 

They spend the rest of the day playing video games, Jason coming in with dinner for Piper and to spend time with them. By the time they part ways, it’s late in the night and everybody’s probably already asleep. That's okay, though. It gives them the opportunity to sneak away to the kitchen for a late night snack before heading to bed. 

Piper makes some quick frybread, craving it now after playing an Indigenous video game all night. She knows it's a survival food... but it's admittedly tasty and easy. It reminds her of home. Gods, she really wants to get home again. She misses her family and the quiet nights on the rez. Well, maybe not quiet, but peaceful in its own regard. 

"This is really good, thanks babe," Jason compliments the food. It's literally just frybread with honey, but whatever, "How did it go with everybody?"

"Eh, fine. I think they'll at least leave it," Piper shrugs, "How's your head feeling? You still have a headache?"

"It's not that bad," Jason avoids the question.

Her boyfriend has had this constant, fluctuating-in-severity, headache ever since getting pummeled in the head: corn field edition. He's sworn Piper to secrecy about it, but it's obvious it's bothering him. Something seems different. He's still the same Jason, but he's been forgetting little details and avoiding reading things in ways he never did before. Increasingly, he's been distancing himself from Frank and Hazel too.

Okay, there's definitely something different. Wrong different. Despite Jason's protests, it's so fucking obvious to Piper. Nobody else seems to notice really, Leo's asked some and Hedge obviously knows as the main healer, but otherwise they all stay oblivious. Maybe they just want to see what they want to see. Even if that's at the expense of her boyfriend and best friend. 

The next couple days feel like the calm before the storm. Everybody takes the much needed time to just breathe. It isn't long before Leo's feeling well enough to venture out of his room and even off the ship to sit on the shoreline with Piper and Jason. When they finally peel away from the island, it feels like it might just be okay.