Leo was used to being lost.

As far as his career as a pizza delivery guy went, he was not about to get a glowing review from his manager. Lateness, grabbing the wrong order in a rush, and the occasional stint of reckless driving left his record tarnished to hell and back. In fact, the only reason he was still working at the same place was because the manager owed a favor to his foster mom, something like that.

Leo's foster mom was doing him a favor, which was the nicest thing he could say about her. The only nice thing, really. She was a distant woman, sending him to do her grocery shopping, chores, taking care of all the other rowdy kids, and now this job. If he was lucky, he could scrap together a meager savings and make another escape plan.

That would make plan, what? Six or seven?

Leo wondered why people only seemed to care when he was in pursuit. When he was found, they all turned away again.

Leo shook his head; it didn't matter, because he couldn't make an escape savings if he couldn't deliver this pizza. And right now, he couldn't find the address for this person.

He'd gotten the call and wrote it down on a napkin, though he had trouble getting certain addresses right sometimes due to his dyslexia. But this time, he was 100 percent certain the address was right.

Maybe he was being pranked. Even though that would be stupid, because they pre-paid for the pizza over the phone.

Leo was at the crest of a hill.

His car-the company car, rather, was pulled over to the side of the road. There wasn't even a driveway, a building, or any indication there were people up the hill. Assholes.

People did things like this all the time, though, with no warning in advance. With a sigh, Leo trekked up the hill, shoes squeaking in the wet frosty grass leftover from an earlier rain.

Then, once he reached the top of the hill, the grass was miraculously dry. Not only that, it had no coating of frost.

Leo didn't notice it at first, but as he looked down to make sure he didn't trip, he saw. His brows furrowed as he moved his foot from one section-feeling the water squeak against his rubber soles-then the next, the grass not shining in its dryness.

Now, it was easy for Leo to get distracted. He was ADHD, to put a cherry on top of his dyslexia. His train of thought was driving at illegal record speeds on a constant basis, and he was used to making boring situations fun by his overactive imagination.

But this was different. It seemed almost supernatural, how wet the land was in one spot, then completely dry a step away.

That's when he spotted the sign.

Of course, Leo had been so distracted by grass that didn't look up to see the towering wooden sign that read Camp Half-Blood. Somehow, he was able to read it trouble-free, as if the font or something had been made to cater to dyslexic people.

That is, until the letters started to fade in and out of place, replaced by some ancient characters. Roman, perhaps, or Greek, like some kind of frat house. Frat-camp, rather. In the winter.

There was a pile of cords at the bottom of a big pine tree, and as much as Leo wanted to investigate, he figured he'd stalled long enough and didn't want to get yelled at for cold food. He headed in under the sign, immediately spotting a large blue house in the distance. There were other small cabins in the distance dotting along in a U, plus some outliers.

Leo hesitantly stepped up to the porch and knocked on the door. There was a light on in the window along with some hushed voices, and the door opened to reveal a boy his own age. He had curly brown hair and a sly smile, like he was used to charming himself out of trouble. He looked like the kind of kid Leo would be friends with in school, if he still worried about things like that.

"I have a order for, uh, Connor Stoll?" Leo said, reading off the napkin from his pocket.

"That's me, thank you!" The boy happily took the food from Leo, turning to the others. From what he could see, a group of kids ranging in ages 12 to 19 and a middle aged man in a wheelchair were all sitting around a ping pong table. They seemed to be talking with serious expressions until Connor turned around, pizza in hand. "What?" He said. "I paid for it..."

The people around the table froze, not looking at Connor, but at Leo. Great.

"Look," Leo started. "I'm just trying to do my job, I'm sorry if he wasn't supposed to order, but-"

"How did you get past the barrier?" a girl at the table whispered to herself, eyes narrowed. She looked to be about his age, pretty, and she was wearing one of those straw sunhats even though she was indoors and it was pitch dark outside.

"Could he be--?"

"Ask about his parents--"

"The barrier didn't block--"

The teens around the table all whispered, distracting Leo with their words, but he focused on one word: barrier. Was it the sign? He didn't see anything that said Keep Out.

"The b--" Leo started, glancing outside at the wooden sign again. Seeing no answers, his heart started to race. "Look, if this is some kind of cult or something, I didn't see anything, so you don't need to kill anyone or perform any experiments or--"

"Enough," the one adult at the table held up a hand, and the teens around him silenced their whispering. "Clearly, he is no threat, as no mortal or monster may cross. He is clearly a lost demigod, lucky to come across our camp in such a coincidental manner. What is your name, young hero?"

Leo felt the eyes of everyone in the room on him, and he stood still, brows furrowed and eyes shifting from one face to the next. It was as if his mouth were full of cotton, like he had an oral presentation and got about three sentences in before being told he'd picked the wrong subject and would have to improvise.

The word hero stuck with him, though. Hero? He was no hero. He'd caused more harm--a colossal amount of harm, more harm than he could make up for in a lifetime--than good for anyone.

And so, Leo did what he did best. He laughed. He deflected. "Okay, I get it now. This is how you indoctrinate people to your camp! You tell them they're heroes, that no one else could walk through the super-special magical border, then you ask for their parent's credit card number. Well, Mr. depressed English teacher, that is not going to work with me, because I am a broke pizza delivery guy for a reason. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back..."

Leo turned on his heel and started out, walking a little quicker than he'd like to admit. Of all the weird situations he'd walked into, this had to be up on the list. He'd seen some things, too, in years past. Faces in the wind, huge men in trench coats trying to sneak into his classroom, inhuman noises in the shadows. If there was something going on that he didn't understand, he did number two on his To-Do list: he ran. It worked great with weird sightings, foster "families" that treated him like dirt, pop quizzes, you name it.

Of course, there was the other thing. The thing that Leo couldn't run from, the thing that followed him. When his emotions started to rise, so did the smoke, curling elegantly to greet the flames that danced along his fingers. That was something that no amount of deflection could snuff out.

But it didn't matter. No one needed to know how Leo kept the pizza boxes warm for so long, after all. It was nothing more than a party trick--not that he went to any parties--and the only way it would get worse is if it were explored.

Now, all he had to do was get back to the car and get back to work...he'd probably hear it from his boss for being out so long, but this place was pretty far out--

"Wait," a hand landed on Leo's shoulder. Leo shrugged it off instinctively but turned, meeting the eyes of one of the boys from the ping pong table. He looked to be about fifteen, but his eyes--his whole complexion, really--told Leo that there was something off about him. He had shaggy black hair, long, like how his own hair got before foster mothers got the scissors out to keep him from looking "degenerate". There were dark circles under his eyes, stark against pale skin, and his eyes were so brown they were almost black. He had on one of those big aviator jackets and a black shirt with skeletons dancing on it.

Basically, he looked like every goth kid in school Leo strived to avoid before they tried to get him into Evanescence.

"I know how this sounds, but I promise you, it's not a scam." The boy started, his eyes so intense, it startled Leo. "There's no way you could have gotten past the border without being...special. Think about it. Your parents, do you know your family's history? Do--"

"Hey!" Leo cut him off, his cheeks flushing. It was rare when something really, truly pissed him off, but really, that was terribly uncalled for. "I have foster parents, okay? Happy? Not that it's any of your business. I'm really not interested in joining whatever pyramid scheme you have going on here."

There was an silence after that, a heavy one that filled the biting winter air. The boy opened his mouth, calculating his next words, when a growl sounded out from the direction of the hill.

"Okay," Leo started to cool down--he had to, because he was literally smoking in the cool air, never a good sign. Hopefully it could pass for mist curling off his warm skin in the winter air. "So...you have a dog. Cool..." he sighed, meeting the boy's eye. "What's your name, anyways?"

"Nico di Angelo," the boy replied, his voice calm and even. "What's yours?"

"Leo," Leo replied, trying to replicate that calm with mixed success. "Leo Valdez."

Nico nodded, looking around at the camp, which was hard to really make out in the darkness. "I've been in-and-out of here for about five years. They let me leave whenever I want. I had a lot of questions about my past before I came here. Who my parents were, why...mysterious things seemed to happen around me. It was a confusing road, and admittedly, I still have questions, but it was worth it. Far more worth it than toughing it out in the mortal world."

"The mortal world," Leo whispered back. Admittedly, the things Nico was saying were starting to make a lot of sense. He thought about the grass, how one part was wet, and one was dry right next to it. The barrier. He shook his head. "I have questions about my family, I'll admit it. But this stuff you said, about having to be "special"? I'm not special. If anything, I'm worse than everyone at what matters, like school. And work. Speaking of, I have a job to get back to." he started off towards the sign, and other than Nico taking one or two hesitant steps after him, he didn't stop him.

"I..." Leo added. "I'll come back, maybe. If I get so broke that I want to join your pyramid scheme." He tried for a smile, but Nico looked so defeated that it quickly faded. With that, Leo put his hands in his pockets and went past the wooden sign, immediately finding that wet grass under his sneakers again. He really didn't know how Camp Half-Blood, whatever it was, did that.

He started down the hill only to hesitate, glancing back. When he did, the trees beside the camp rustled. He heard another growl, deep, large, and guttural. Leo took it that the camp didn't have a puppy as their mascot. Based on how it sounded, it could reach entire stadiums with that sound alone. Leo liked dogs well enough, but he didn't want a large one to tackle him for not paying the $199.99 starting camp fee, so the sooner he got to the car, the better.

Too late.

Out of the trees stepped a colossal black mastiff the size of a monster truck. Each clomp of its paws against the ground rattled the ground, and as it bared its teeth, Leo could see each deadly sharpened fang was bigger than his torso. Its beady red eyes could peer into Leo's soul, and he could only see its hunger; this thing had eaten someone before, Leo was sure, and it would eat again seeing as he was defenseless.

Up past the hill, Nico ran past the border sign, grasping--no way in hell--a three-foot pure black sword.

"Do I even need to say I told you so?" Nico asked, exasperated.

The commotion seemed to distract Mr. Chew-Toy-Less away from Leo, which, as the guy without a sword, Leo was perfectly okay with. He backed away slowly, heart pounding in his chest as the mastiff bounded towards Nico, mouth opening wide--

Nico effortlessly slashed across its neck in a perfect arc, like something out of an action movie, and the massive mastiff crumpled to sparkling gold dust. In the chilling wind, the dust sprinkled all over Leo, making him look like he'd just been given a five second makeover by the people on Ru Paul's Drag Race.

A hefty silence filled the air as Nico caught his breath. Leo opened his mouth, closed it, tasted some of the gold dust, and gagged.

"You guys didn't even leave a tip," Leo shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "You...assholes, and your messed up camp, and your massive glitter dogs--"

"I just saved your life," Nico pointed out, brows raised. "And you're complaining about a lack of tip on your pizza delivery? I didn't even order it. Connor got pepperoni and meatball, I would have gotten Hawaiian--"

"Hawaiian?" Leo managed, flabbergasted but relieved to see such topics as pizza toppings still existed in a world where massive deadly mastiffs also existed. "That's...ridiculous..."

"Hey," Nico said, his voice soft. Leo's face flushed, feeling a strong urge to study his shoes and the ground around them. He didn't even know this kid, but he had a powerful aura to him. He could be...one of those demi-whatevers, like that adult in the cabin said. A Not-Mortal. His tone made Leo feel comforted, like someone who had been through as many sucky things as he had. But he also made Leo feel like he was in trouble. "Come back with me to the Big House, okay? We'll explain everything...and maybe we'll get you that tip..."

Leo took a deep breath, regret filling him at the things he'd said as he took in the big blue house in the distance. He'd probably alienated himself from any and everyone there already, not that he would try to stay for long if he could avoid it.

Then again, what did he have to lose?

"My boss would eat me alive," Leo said with a laugh, wondering why he ever cared about such things after being that close to death.

"Maybe not as much as that hellhound would have," Nico replied, his smile crooked and brief. "Unless he's a monster, too."

As much as that was supposed to be a joke, part of it unsettled Leo. What if certain people in his life were monsters, just waiting to destroy him? He thought back to his suspicions of the camp. Nico said he'd been here five years, and the depressed-English-teacher man said no monsters got past the barrier. There, he'd be safe.

Safe. Leo didn't hold much stock in the word.

Leo started back up the hill with Nico di Angelo, leaving any thoughts of the world he once knew far behind.