Halcyon [Leo Valdez x Reader]

New Person, Same Old Mistakes

The other seven demigods were eating breakfast.

  Once upon a time, I would have worried about all of us being together belowdecks with nobody at the helm, but ever since Piper had permanently woken up Festus with her charmspeak – a feat I still did not understand – the dragon figurehead had been more than capable of running the Argo II by himself. Festus could navigate, check the radar, make a blueberry smoothie and spew white-hot jets of fire at invaders – simultaneously – without even blowing a circuit.

  Besides, we had Buford the Wonder Table as backup.

  After Coach Hedge left on his shadow-travel expedition, Leo had decided that his three-legged table could do just as good a job as their ‘adult chaperone’. He had laminated Buford’s tabletop with a magic scroll that projected a pint-sized holographic simulation of Coach Hedge. Mini-Hedge would stomp around on Buford’s top, randomly saying things like ‘CUT THAT OUT!’ ‘I’M GONNA KILL YOU!’ and the ever-popular ‘PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!’

  Today, Buford was manning the helm. If Festus’s flames didn’t scare away the monsters, Buford’s holographic Hedge definitely would.

  I stood in the doorway of the mess hall, taking in the scene around the dining table. It wasn’t often I got to see all my friends together.

  Percy was eating a huge stack of blue pancakes (what was his deal with blue food?) while Annabeth chided him for pouring on too much syrup.

  “You’re drowning them!” she complained.

  “Hey, I’m a Poseidon kid,” he said. “I can’t drown. And neither can my pancakes.”

  To their left, Frank and Hazel used their cereal bowls to flatten out a map of Greece. They looked over it, their heads close together. Every once in a while Frank’s hand would cover Hazel’s, just sweet and natural like they were an old married couple, and Hazel didn’t even look flustered, which was real progress for a girl from the 1940s. Until recently, if somebody said gosh darn, she would nearly faint.

  At the head of the table, Jason sat with his arm around Piper, seemingly comforting her.

Leo walked into the dining hall from the other side. Our eyes met for a moment. He smiled at me politely, like we were strangers.

I looked away.

“Sis!” Percy greeted, desperately swallowing his food as if he wasn’t ready to speak. “How's ya?”

I figured he meant the life threatening wound. I lifted up my tank top and shrugged, trying to bite back the pain.

“It’s just cold,” I said.

  I'm sure they could hear the pain in my voice. That stupid gladius blade had pierced me all the way through. The entrance wound on my back was an ugly shade of purple and it steamed. Probably not a good sign.

I put down my shirt as the faces around the room darkened. Whoops.

Leo was prepared to save the day. I appreciated it.

  “What’s up, guys?” He strolled into the mess hall. “Aw, yes to brownies!”

  He grabbed the last one – from a special sea-salt recipe they’d picked up from Aphros the fish centaur at the bottom of the Atlantic.

  The intercom crackled. Buford’s Mini-Hedge yelled over the speakers, “PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!”

  Everyone jumped. Hazel ended up five feet away from Frank. Percy spilled syrup in his orange juice. Frank turned into a bulldog.

  Piper glared at Leo. “I thought you were getting rid of that stupid hologram.”

  “Hey, Buford’s just saying good morning. He loves his hologram! Besides, we all miss the coach. And Frank makes a cute bulldog.”