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“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright, just stop fighting,” she said, her knife to Leo’s throat, as her weight pinned him to the pebbly ground. She wasn’t even that heavy, Leo just weighed as much as a moderately-sized leaf. Thanks for that image, Piper. “The Legion will give you a fair trial, just relax.”
It was safe to say that Leo did not want to relax. The other six had gone down from the Argo II to fight off the Romans, and Leo was supposed to be keeping the ship steady until they could return. It was intended to be the ‘safest’ job—air quotes very necessary.
Somehow, he had taken the role of “little brother” on the quest—even though he technically wasn’t the youngest—and the others were all way overprotective because of it. Leo had argued that Hazel was younger since her birthday was eight months before his, but then she had pulled the “I’m actually ninety-six” card, so his claim had been vetoed despite his complaints.
Plus, there was the fact that he was barely five foot, and scrawny enough to look even younger. Apparently he was “tiny,” and “had to be kept safe,” like a puppy at a dog park with mastiffs and rottweilers.
It wasn't Leo’s fault the rest of the seven were stupidly muscular and tall and blessed by their godly-sides, and the Fates had apparently forgotten about the scrawny latino elf.
And whatever, Leo could handle being a little babied, as long as no one tried to stop him from working on his ship. He could—potentially, never to anyone’s face—admit that fighting wasn’t exactly his strong suit. And he was okay with leaving that to Frank with his awesome shapeshifting, Annabeth with her wicked dagger skills, and Jason with his superman-abilities.
But Leo was the one who knew how to work the ship; it was his role on the quest, and he loved it. Loved feeling useful, loved communicating with Festus in a language none of the others knew, loved spinning his Wii controllers like he was still crushing foster siblings at Mario Kart.
Which is what he had been doing ten minutes ago, and had planned to do until he fell into bed at two am—finally being dragged away from the navigation console by a gently chastising Hazel, or a downright scolding Piper and Annabeth.
What he hadn’t expected was for a large golden eagle to snatch him from the helm, and then drop him in the middle of SPQR’s encampment while they were still a good ten feet above the ground.
He’d been unprepared for the fall, and had landed heavily, the air knocked out of him and pain burning through what little muscle he did have. Leo’d rolled onto his back, struggling to pull oxygen back into his lungs, and before he could even blink, a girl with reddish-brown hair was on him.
She had a knife.
Panic had surged through the son of Hephaestus, because he had no idea if she was willing to use it. After all, Leo had destroyed her camp, maybe hurt people she loved. He couldn’t really blame her, if she did.
The thought process made him pause long enough for oxygen to fill his chest, and the clarity only brought more fear. He didn’t know if he would ever make it back to the Seven, if he would lose the found-family he had just gained, and Leo began struggling, trying to dislodge her grip.
“Stop, it’s fine, I won’t hurt you.” She said the words like she was calming down a feral kitten, and her eyes were filled with pity, or something akin to regret. “I don’t want to have to knock you out, but Octavian won’t be happy if you escape.”
Where was Jason? Or Piper? Or Percy, or Annabeth, or Frank and Hazel? Leo was almost embarrassed by how much he wanted them to come in swords-flashing and arrows flying.
He’d only known Hazel, Frank, and Percy for a few days, and their meeting probably hadn’t given them the best first-impression of Leo. He’d been possessed, fired on New Rome, and then woke up to three very angry Romans standing over him with weapons aimed at his heart.
Normally he would laugh his way out of a situation like that, tell enough jokes that no one took him as a serious threat. But Leo had just watched as his own hands, the appendages he trusted to fix things, fired on the camp where Piper, Jason and Annabeth were. The first people who had stuck around, who had accepted Leo, fire and all. And he didn’t even know if they were alive.
Leo hadn’t intended to cry.
But everything was so sudden, and overwhelming, and the tears had slipped down his cheeks before he could even process them. He’d watched in real time as Hazel’s upset slipped into pure concern, as Frank lowered his bow, staring at Leo like he had been expecting a mountain lion and found a drowning kitten, and as Percy had capped his sword, kneeling carefully at Leo’s side.
That first night on the Argo, Annabeth had guided the Seven into a conversation about their hardships, about their pasts, saying that if they were going to trust each other, they needed to know each other. And she had been right.
For the first time in six years, Leo shared his story. About his mom, the fire, foster care, his time on the streets. And it had been hard—gods, it had been hard. But he’d done it, and his vulnerability had acted like stitches in a patchwork quilt. He broke the dam, and the rest of the Seven soon followed.
Percy and Annabeth finally talked about their rough childhoods and quests, Jason shared stories of his life with Lupa and Camp Jupiter, and Piper revealed the years of loneliness due to having a celebrity dad. Frank opened up about the death of his mother and the piece of firewood tying him to existence, and Hazel shared about her time in Alaska and the struggles she had with her mom.
All it took was one honest and open conversation, and the relationships between the quest members shifted from paths forced to intersect, to a family.
That day, Leo finally felt like he found a group of people who would stick around, who would fight by his side when times were hard, and who would laugh with him, however terrible the jokes. And to love him, with the kind of love he had only ever experienced from his mother.
Leo wasn’t quite sure if he had gained six older siblings, or three sets of parents—the jury was still out on that.
Although right now, he was positive the rest of the Seven would be like ferocious mama bears if they saw the situation he was in. The thought had him holding in a scoff, because he had literal fire at his disposal, and unless the rest of the seven had told them while he was giving Octavian the tour, the Romans had no idea.
Leo was pretty sure that if he acted fast enough, he could escape the Roman camp through pure shock-factor using his fire before it was too late. And then the already-building heat receded at a sudden realization.
He’d have to hurt the girl pinning him to the dusty ground.
There were too many demigods; he couldn’t get out without aiming his fire at a few, and that… wasn’t something he was willing to do. And okay, fire equals hurting others should have been obvious to Leo, but he’d hit his head hard when the eagle dropped him.
The girl seemed kind.
Fine, Leo sighed internally. I’ll just wait like a damsel in distress until the others save me.
That thought had him ceasing his movement, and he let his head fall back to the dirt as he closed his eyes for a moment, accepting defeat. The girl with the knife untensed slightly, and Jason’s voice filtered through Leo’s mind.
“You’re small, unassuming, and they’ll underestimate you. Let them. The moment they let their guard down, that’s when you strike.”
But Leo did nothing.
Sorry Jason, you need to be the one to strike. I can’t do it.
Instead, he opened his eyes to meet the murky-green ones above him.
“Good, just don’t move,” she instructed, twisting around to grab rope from a pouch on her belt. She reached for his small hands, and then faltered, searching his face for something, her eyes filled with reluctance. “You… are the one who fired on Camp Jupiter, yes?”
Leo could have lied, could have tried to explain that it was an accident, that it wasn’t him. But if he did that… he wouldn't get to see Percy’s face when the son of Poseidon rolled into the Roman campsite riding a hurricane, or Piper’s pure older sister fury as she brandished her dagger, Katoptris.
Lie, and miss out on the pure CHAOS served by the rest of the Seven, OR…
Leo nodded numbly, doing his best to force tears of regret into his eyes.
The girl exhaled heavily, her expression twisting into one of remorse, like that wasn’t the answer she had been hoping to see. Apparently Leo had lied a little too well.
Nevertheless, she began tying the binding around his wrists, and Leo glanced at the surrounding clearing.
There were maybe fifteen demigods, but the two that stood out to Leo were exact opposites from each other. One was muscular with tanned skin, near-black hair, and dark-chocolate eyes, and the other was tall and lanky with pale skin, close-cropped blonde hair, and bright blue eyes.
For a moment, the latter reminded Leo of Jason. And then he immediately dismissed the thought; the son of Jupiter would never have such a pinched scowl on his face, an expression that only became clearer as the half-blood marched over.
“Sarah! Is this the Greco-scum who attacked our camp?!” He spat the words like they were a curse, and Leo couldn’t help but recoil from the venom in his tone. He got close enough to see Leo’s face, and for Leo to see his bloodshot, slightly manic eyes. “It is! I’d recognize this Tartarus-spawn anywhere!”
“Yes, Octavian, but he-” Sarah’s words that might have been helpful—at least to Leo’s predicament—were cut off as the blonde-haired teen shot her a silencing glare, taking the rope and Leo’s hands from her grasp. Octavian tightened the bindings, and Leo barely held back a gasp at the way they dug into his skin, before leveling a glare at the Apollo legacy.
This was annoying.
Leo knew for a fact that a little bit of fire added to the equation, and he would have plus one escaped convict, and minus one Octavian. But when Leo glanced calculatingly at the Roman, all he heard was his mother’s gentle, loving voice.
“Remember, mijo, every life is precious, just like every piece of a machine is important. Sometimes, you just have to figure out where they fit.”
Octavian didn’t seem to fit anywhere, like he forgot what part was his to play. Or maybe he had never known, because no one had ever taught him.
Regardless, hurting anyone, even Octavian, just wasn’t an option. Leo would have to continue his role of ‘helplessly annoying prisoner’ until the rest of the Seven could save him.
“Creepy scare-crow dude, those do NOT need to be that tight!” Leo complained, wriggling his wrists like that would loosen the ropes. From behind Leo, he heard a stifled laugh, and he tilted his head all the way back so he could get an upside-down view of the person.
He was muscular—why do all these stupid Romans have to be so buff?!—with black curly hair, and a red stain around his lips, like he had just consumed a bright red and very artificial candy. But at least he looked friendly. Maybe Leo could make one ally here.
“Shut up!” Snarled Octavian, and he dragged Leo backwards, shoving him harshly against a nearby tree. “Kahale! You guard him. I’m going to scout out the rest of the Greeks, make sure they aren’t coming after this-”
“This what?” Growled a low, dangerous voice, and yet it brought a massive grin to Leo’s face. “Because I swear to the gods, if you were about to say anything even slightly insulting-”
“Then we’ll hit you so hard you’ll end up back at Camp Jupiter,” Percy finished for Jason, the latter dropping him on the ground, with Jason remaining in the air. The winds built around him, swirling and whistling through the branches, and the clouds in the sky above darkened.
Wow, Leo thought with a visible eye roll and yet an amused smile, could those two get any more cliche?
Leo was a little disappointed that it wasn’t a massive hurricane-tornado thing, but he supposed that a summoned thunder-storm was… adequate ammunition.
An ash-gray dragon swooped in, setting down on the ground beside the pair, and Annabeth slid off its back, Piper following close behind. The dragon roared—wow Frank, really showing off there—and then transformed back into the Canadian baby-man Leo had once seen crying over a dried-up minnow on deck.
A flash and sharp whinny signaled Hazel and Arion’s arrival, stopping just beside Piper, and Leo was taken back by the fury in the daughter of Pluto’s eyes. The girl was usually so sweet, but—as Leo was coming to realize more and more every day—mess with her siblings, and she would demonstrate exactly why she deserved her place as a child of the Big Three.
Leo felt the smile growing on his face, and he almost felt bad for Octavian and the rest of the Roman camp. They had no idea the forces they had just messed with.
“Hey guys, really took your time, didn’t you?” Leo drawled lazily, as if he hadn’t been fearing for his life two minutes before.
“Leo! Not the time for jokes!” Piper scolded, pulling out her dagger and glaring poisonously at Octavian.
“C’mon, Beauty Queen, you and I both know that it’s ALWAYS time for jokes,” Leo smirked, and Piper’s rigid expression slipped into amusement for just a second, before hardening again.
Most of the Legion had begun backing away when the Seven made their appearance, but Octavian remained firm, standing in front of Leo and scowling at the retreating forces.
“Do not flee! Hold your ground!” He yelled, brandishing his plushy-murdering dagger, and the others halted their movement, still looking uncertain.
“No need to do that, we won’t be here for long,” Jason grinned, and Hazel nodded affirmingly from his right. Leo took note that Frank was nowhere to be seen, and that’s when he felt soft fur brush against his fingers. He glanced down, and saw a little squirrel gnawing away at his bindings.
“Thanks, Frank,” Leo whispered, careful to move his mouth as little as possible, and the squirrel squeaked a quiet response. From the other side of the clearing, Piper and Percy took over the talking, while Jason and Annabeth inched their way in Leo’s direction. Hazel looked ready to provide a quick getaway on Arion to anyone who needed it, and Frank was still slowly working at the rope.
A little too slowly, if Octavian’s growing scowl at Percy was any indication. Leo could at least help out a tiny bit.
“Back up,” Leo murmured, waiting until he heard a go-ahead chirp from the squirrel, and then turned the ropes to ash in two seconds flat. He dusted the cinders off his hands, turning slightly to see Frank, and then nearly gave himself away with a giggle at the squirrel’s expression.
If it was even possible for the furry face of a rodent, Frank looked annoyed, or at least incredulous, like why didn’t you just do that earlier?
“Because I thought it would be funnier to wait for you guys to show up,” Leo answered the unasked question with a smirk.
They both glanced back at the others—Frank looking a little reluctant to let the argument go—and Leo winced at the aggressive stances of the Romans; spathas and javelins leveled at the Greeks.
Leo caught Hazel’s golden eyes, and she mouthed “time to go,” gesturing at Arion to signal their escape-plan.
There was a series of silent signals—which included horribly obvious lip-reading from Jason, attempted battlefield hand-gestures from Annabeth, and horse-speak from Percy, who looked a little green-faced at Arion’s language—and then everyone was ready for the pure chaos to enfold.
Piper released a shrill whistle, and the Seven leaped into action. Literally.
Squirrel-Frank leaped onto Leo’s shoulder, and then Leo leaped onto Arion’s back, being held steady by Hazel, and then everyone else leaped onto their various modes of transportation.
Jason looked mildly confused by the Percy clinging to his neck like a koala, as if he hadn’t been informed that part of the plan included the Jason-mobile.
Arion galloped to Piper and Annabeth's side, and Frank hopped off of Leo’s arm, transforming mid-jump into a giant eagle that scooped the two girls up.
And before the Romans even knew what had happened, the Seven were racing back to the Argo II, setting down on deck, and rushing to get the ship moving before they caught up.
Leo slid down Arion’s back, running for the helm, and he began the arduous process of flicking switches—why did he install so many switches?!—to power on the stalled engines.
Percy and Jason combined their powers, creating both a storm to slow the Romans down, and extra wind to make the ship move faster. Frank and Hazel stood by their side, watching for any incoming enemy half-bloods, while Piper and Annabeth joined Leo at the ship’s navigation console.
Leo’s mind was a whirlwind of checking various gauges, listening to Festus’ creaks as he assessed the Argo’s damage, and keeping a lookout for any Roman eagles. He remained at the helm for an undefined amount of time, as his mind was currently preoccupied with more important things than how close dinner was.
…But we were going to have enchiladas, Leo’s stomach betrayed him. STOP it stomach, I’m BUSY.
But finally, the winds died, the skies cleared, and land was nowhere in sight. Leo spotted Jason and Percy lying against the main mast, both panting and looking utterly exhausted with torn clothes and various scratches from the fight littering their faces.
Piper and Annabeth had stuck with Leo and helped him navigate, but when they cleared land, the pair jogged to the infirmary for ambrosia. Frank and Hazel replaced them, and Leo was not prepared for the chastisement about to occur.
“Leo, you’ve been steering for two hours, it’s time to take a break,” Frank said firmly, stepping up beside Leo to take the wheel. Leo didn’t move.
“Really, Leo, we’ve got to talk about what happened,” Hazel urged, laying her hands over Leo’s to pry them away. “Let Frank take over.”
“I would,” Leo said sheepishly, his eyes roaming over anything that wasn’t their faces. “If I could move my hands.”
“What are you talking about?” Frank questioned, poking the backs of Leo’s fingers, like he couldn’t understand the problem.
“I mean, I literally can’t unclench my fists,” Leo answered reluctantly, trying to force all his willpower into lifting a finger. Said finger did not twitch. He glared at the appendage. Rude finger.
“...What? Why are you talking to your fingers?” Hazel asked hesitantly, eyeing Leo like he was a potentially deranged raccoon. Great, I said that out loud.
“I think I hit my head harder than I thought,” Leo chuckled wryly, finally managing to rip his hands from the steering wheel. He then proceeded to sway dangerously, and would have fallen if not for Hazel’s steadying grip.
The sun was way too bright, his ears were ringing a little from the noise, and fatigue ran like gravity across his whole body, dragging him down. Everything was sore from being dropped at ten feet and then standing for the following two hours.
“You hit your head?! When?” Hazel exclaimed, her confusion switching to concern in an instant. Frank watched from the helm, his expression just as worried.
“When the Roman eagle-dude dropped me into their camp,” Leo replied, and then wondered if he could blame the eagle, or if the eagle had a rider. Was the eagle Roman? Could eagles be Roman? Oh, right, Hazel was talking.
“-hould’ve told us! Someone else could’ve worked the navigation!” Hazel chastised, dragging Leo in the direction of the mini-first aid station under the mast where the rest of the Seven were. “Go sit next to Percy and Jason, Annabeth will get you looked over.”
She practically tossed him beside Percy, and Leo settled his head against the wooden pole behind him. He let his eyes close, and the ringing in his ears finally died down enough for him to hear the soft sounds of the ocean far beneath the ship. This was actually kind of nice. He forgot how good sitting down felt.
“What’s wrong? Was Leo being an idiot and hiding an injury?” Annabeth questioned sternly, her expression in full I’m-the-closest-thing-you-helpless-teenagers-have-to-a-doctor mode.
“No-”
“Yes-” Hazel glared at Leo, and he could somehow feel the presence of it, without even having to look. He closed his mouth just as tightly as his eyes and she continued on. “He was dropped from a Roman eagle and never told anyone. I think he has a minor concussion or something, he keeps losing his balance.”
“Bro, why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Jason implored, staring at Leo like he couldn’t figure out which half-blood was the kicked puppy, and which was the culprit of the kicking-crime. “We would have helped you sooner!”
“We were all kind of busy with RUNNING for our LIVES,” Leo joked, but the effect was a little thrown off by his closed eyes and motionless body. Sadly, acting required both the voice and the body, and only one of those was currently in working order. “Didn’t want to distract you,” Leo finished weakly.
“You’re not a distraction, you’re a part of our quest,” Percy said firmly from beside him, wrapping an arm around the son of Hephaestus to drive in his point. Leo was a little embarrassed by how much he leaned into the side-hug, but he was missing the sibling-dynamic from his brothers and sister at camp. Plus, Percy was a really good hugger.
“Definitely a minor concussion, but ambrosia should fix the damage quickly,” Annabeth announced to Leo, breaking a square of ambrosia into three pieces for each of the boys. Leo accepted his and ate it quickly, savoring the memories that came with his mom’s taco-taste. “But, all three of you need a good few hours of rest before dinner.”
“And,” Piper spoke up from where she had been glancing between Jason and Leo like a worried mother hen. “You all have to stay in the infirmary, so we know you’re actually sleeping.”
That resulted in three sets of groaning and complaints, but a quick look from Hazel and Annabeth shut them up fast. The trio of girls helped Percy, Jason, and Leo to their feet, and guided the exhausted wobbly-legged teenagers to cots in the infirmary.
When Leo built the place, he’d been thinking of the various fights Jason and Piper would be getting into, or the new Roman demigods, or Percy who just sounded like a magnet for trouble. Leo never thought he’d actually have to use it. If he had, there would’ve been a TV. Or an Xbox. Or a playstation. Or anything OTHER than various magazines he raided from the Big House, a bookshelf courtesy of Annabeth, and some boardgames smuggled in by Piper.
Leo was going to be so BORED.
He settled into one of the cots—which were actually pretty comfortable due to the thick blankets donated by the Hypnos Cabin—and nearly choked on laughter as Piper very dramatically, and very audibly tucked the blankets around him, as if Leo was a three-year-old.
“Shush, sleep tight, and don’t let the bedbugs bite,” Piper sing-songed, and Leo had no clue how she did it all with a straight face. Oh wait, yes he did. Her dad was literally a famous actor, and apparently, she picked up a few tricks.
“Shut up!” Leo forced out through his laughter, playfully shoving Piper’s hands away from him. “Go sing to your boyfriend, I’m sure he’d actually appreciate it!”
“Nope, I think Leo needs the coddling more than I do,” Jason betrayed him, smirking from the cot across from Leo and Piper, while Hazel giggled with a hand over her mouth. Percy sniggered from beside Annabeth, and even she had a small uplift to her lips.
“Jason! The pain! How could you do this to me?!” Leo bemoaned, flopping dramatically into the pillow and flinging the back of his hand over his forehead. “I thought we were bros.”
“Dude, you broke the bro-code,” Percy intoned, shaking his head in mock disappointment as he settled into his own bed beside Leo’s. “You don’t do that.”
“I thought the bro-code was about girls…?” Jason asked in confusion, his head tilted like a confused puppy.
“Exactly!” Leo exclaimed, still holding his dramatic pose. “You chose PIPER over my SANITY. I shall NEVER RECOVER.”
“OH-kay, that’s enough of that,” Hazel admonished, although her lips twitched like she was struggling to restrain a smile. “You actually need to sleep, and Leo—Frank and Annabeth have got the ship, it’ll be fine for a few hours.”
Just a few days ago, Leo would have fought. He would’ve claimed that he needed to be the one to work the Argo II, that the others wouldn’t be able to, that it was his job.
Because if Leo wasn’t needed to fix the ship, then what use was he?
But the Seven’s vulnerable conversation on the very first night on the Argo had changed that. Shifted their entire dynamic, like a gear in a machine that linked the whole project, that allowed everything to run smoothly and effectively.
Now, he took in Annabeth’s reassuring smile, Percy and Jason’s twin grins, Hazel’s soft and comforting eyes, Piper’s playful smirk, and Frank’s steady presence above, steering the ship.
And Leo trusted them.