Percy Jackson, The Missing Hero.

61. The Beacons are Lit, Camp Half-Blood Calls For Aid.

Riptide was in his hand, gold swirling before his eyes – likely still damp to the touch.

Percy sighed and stared at the piece of paper in front of him, the words that he had written nonsensical and wrong. There was no way to write a note that would inform your team of your unfortunate demise – even if Percy was still hoping he'd be destroying said note before any of them had to see it. He looked at it for a moment longer before scrunching up the note and tossing it into the bin by his desk with his other attempts.

He bit his lip at the sight of the blank sheet before him and wondered if it was some sort of sign that he shouldn't leave a note.

Leaving a note seemed like he was admitting that he didn't think he was coming back.

A knock on the door settled his decision to leave it for now; especially if it was a member of his team on the other side. He couldn't exactly write such a note in front of them.

He dropped Riptide on the desk and stood, knowing that simply shouting to the person on the other side of the door wouldn't work.

And when he opened the door to find Apollo standing before him, he was genuinely a little surprised. He'd been expecting Luke.

"Oh, hey!" Percy smiled at him once he'd gotten over his surprise, swapping it for relief.

"Luke sent me to make sure you were awake in time for dinner," Apollo's returned smile was tentative and awkward. He looked tired, even more so than he had when Percy had left him after the incident with Orion.

"Just about," Percy shrugged, wandering back into his room with the expectation that Apollo would follow as he continued talking. "If you'd come up half an hour ago, I'd still be asleep."

When he turned, Apollo was still hovering in the doorway.

"You can come in if you want?" He found himself saying, a little unsure because he'd never had to invite Apollo in before. Not properly. "Or do we have to head down to dinner straight away?"

"No, no, we've got some time," Apollo shuffled in, still looking uncertain as he pressed the door shut behind him. "Did you sleep alright?"

Percy thought back to the nap he'd managed to grab and sighed. "I didn't want to wake up," he admitted as he sat heavily on the edge of his bed. "I debated throwing my alarm across the room but I knew Luke would only drag me out of bed by the ankle and I didn't want to run that risk. How about you, have you managed to get any rest?"

"I tried and failed," Apollo responded absently.

Percy frowned. This wasn't the Apollo he was used to. The Apollo that was always so easy to talk to, the Apollo that was always willing to share a smile. The Apollo that called him an array of nicknames that he pretended to hate when in reality they warmed his chest and made him feel like he was wanted.

This was not the Apollo he was used to, the Apollo that he could dare to say was his Apollo.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, unable to stop himself. "We have time now, if you want to talk?"

Apollo sighed softly and managed a tired smile. "I can't help but fear what comes this night," he confessed. "And I can't help but worry about you all. About you."

Percy winced, knowing that he couldn't reassure Apollo with false platitudes when they both knew that there was every reason to worry. And it would be pretty hypocritical of him to try and reassure Apollo when Percy was feeling the same way about him. He knew that their initial run-in with Kronos – the whole reason that Apollo had joined their team in the first place – was Apollo's first true encounter with his grandfather. He didn't know Apollo's history with Gaia well enough to comment on that area; Styx, history had never been his strong suit.