CHAPTER ELEVEN / VOL. I, THERE IS NO MOVING ON

DEPRAVITY MUST BE HEREDITARY. Wickedness winds it's way into every strand of DNA and vitriol runs through the bloodstream until all that you are is unbridled rage and gore that cannot fathom the gentleness of a notion like mercy. Will has always known that pulsating spleen finds a home in her. She has known since the day black blood spilled down her face, coating her lashes and pooling around her cornea—since she first felt that bitter tug at her heartstrings and thought that taking Luke's awaiting hand would satisfy the monster in her. She sent him away that day and didn't tell a soul about how they spoke in the shadows, how she almost told him yes, and how right the word would sound leaving her trembling lips.

That memory lives in her bones, splintering each time she pictures the look on his face—the one that looks most like disappointment. Though it wasn't the first time someone had looked at her like this, it was the only time that mattered. She had almost stretched out her meager hand and gripped his like a lifeline, a final act of desperation as if broken bones and lost causes would be worth it all.

Will knows how rage consumes you and leaves boneyards in its wake. She's seen it often enough to know when the slow dance of decay has begun. One sliver of humanity at a time before it devours you. Will can see the look in his eyes—the muddled guilt, and satisfaction, and fear. Leo keeps looking back over his shoulder towards the dwindling haze of smoke and muted light. Even when the smoking building is far behind them, he still glances back every minute, half expecting to see burning bodies chasing after him. He must be thinking the same thing that Will is—how your ghosts will follow you to the grave.

"Leo," Piper says, placing a gentle hand on his bony shoulder. "You feeling okay?"

He tenses at the contact before easing into her touch and allowing his shoulders to slump as he lets out a sheepish chuckle. He's still trying to remember that he's deserving of comfort, despite how his hands smolder and how the good in him has slowly started to wither. "Yeah... not bad for a brainwashed zombie. Thanks for saving us back there, Beauty Queen. If you hadn't talked me out of that spell—"

"Don't worry about it," Piper shrugs, retracting her hand with a soft smile.

The gesture still fills Leo with warmth. Will can see it in the way his body wilts without the gentleness of Piper's hand on his shoulder. And despite the girl's words, Leo does worry. And how could he not when the worst parts of him had revealed themselves in that department store? How can he ever move on from that? It was so easy for him to seethe and burn with shrouded rage. Only now, everyone knew of how deep his resentment is buried—deep enough to grow roots. And all of that anger had lived in him before this day. It was always there, watching, waiting.

Leo reasons that it must have been born from something, from a single moment that would haunt him no matter how far he ran from it. It started with the day his mother perished by his hand, how his fury had smothered her even as he'd meant to protect her. The consequences always overwhelm any good intent, and because of this, his wrath grows like a weed. Leo wonders if this is how Will feels all of the time. He imagines it must be hard to breathe with all of that ire brimming in her throat. But the difference is that Leo knows enough to feel guilty. He isn't proud of this anger and how it beats with life. He has the decency to deny it. Will, on the other hand, has lived with it long enough to come to terms with it. She knows that it will never leave. We all live with the ugly parts of ourselves, only some of us cover mirrors to hide those parts of us. Others shatter them.

When Leo glances back at Will, he visibly pales, seeing the eldritch eyes like stones weighing down on him. Her brows are furrowed in a manner that suggest she's been watching him, scrutinizing him. Peeling back the layers of lies and good intentions to see the truth—all of the fury and bitterness that swarms through his body. She's looking right through him, just like always, with that same demoralizing look on her face. Like she has seen the ugliest parts of you and knows all of the things you worked so hard to hide. He wonders if she knows how guilty he feels. Is that where the distinction is drawn? Is he human because he feels remorse and her a monster because she doesn't?

That doesn't undercut the way he feels about leaving Medea in the burning store. Though something twists in his gut when the thought crosses his mind, the truth is that it felt too good. He wanted her to burn the way his mother did—an ugly death with black lungs and the smell of charred flesh. He turns away quickly, feeling like his ribs are constricting in his chest, closing around his heart so tightly that it might burst.

She knows, he thinks. She knows the monster that lurks beneath the surface. But of course she does. After all, she has her own rot growing in the shadows.

          He clears his throat, though his voice still comes out strained. "We're going to have to land soon," he warns. "Couple more hours, maybe, to make sure Medea's not following us. I don't think Festus can fly much longer than that."

Will's eyes dart behind her—a bad habit that catches Jason's eye. She looks away—not wanting to acknowledge the remorseful look in his eyes. She knows what he wants and she'll have none of it. But it's the mention of Medea that really strikes a chord. Will had never ran from a fight that was so easily hers before. Leaving Piper behind was one thing. She knew exactly why she'd done it. It was washing her hands of them, an act as simple as peeling a scab to let the cycle begin anew. Medea had been cornered like an animal, wounded to the point of hemorrhaging and drenched in a myriad of potions that colored her skin like a kaleidoscope. It would have been so easy, and yet Will had run. Self-preservation wins in the end she supposes. But it doesn't matter anyway. Will can tell herself that it's the truth and if she tells herself that enough times then eventually it will become the only truth that matters.

"Yeah," Piper agrees, glancing below them at the swinging canary cages clutched tightly between the dragon's claws. "Coach Hedge probably wants to get out of that cage, too. Question is—where are we going?"

"The Bay Area," Leo guesses. Like everyone else, his memories of the department store are still covered in a haze, but he remembers the worst parts the best. The rest come and go like shifting winds. "Didn't Medea say something about Oakland?"

It's silent for a long moment. As if the world has stopped, the air weighs down on them and the only sound is a shallow intake of breath. Piper's looking to her right, chin tucked into her chest with her muddled eyes focusing on the shifting world below them. She's trying not to cry, to save face in fear of what they'll think of her. She can't bear to look at them. They will never forgive her for telling them lie after lie like preaching a sermon of falsities. Piper had never been to church, never even looked at a Bible, but something about the daunting steeples and somber litanies always made her shiver. Now she wonders if even their God could forgive her. But if their God was anything like her gods then it probably wouldn't matter. What god has time for the guilt of ants?

"Piper's dad." Jason finally cuts through the silence. "Something's happened to your dad, right? He got lured into some kind of trap."

Piper let's out the air she was holding in, feeling her chest sink at the action. "Look, Medea said you would both die in the Bay Area," she stresses. "And besides... even if we went there, the Bay Area is huge. First we need to find Aeolus and drop off the storm spirits. Boreas said Aeolus was the only one who could tell us exactly where to go."

Leo huffs. "So how do we find Aeolus?"

Jason leans forward, pointing at the open expanse of sky before them. "You mean you don't see it?"

Will narrows her eyes at the lingering clouds and dull city lights in the distance, before turning her scrutinizing gaze to Jason. "Did I drop you too hard at the department store?" She raises a brow, cold voice cutting through the night air. "Do you have brain damage?"

Jason wipes at the dried blood under his nose at the mention of his injury. It's still smeared across his upper lip though some of it peels away at the pressure. "No—well, I don't think so. I'm talking about that... whatever it is," Jason stresses, waving his hand around slightly. "In the air."

          Leo and Piper glance at each other, confusions plastered on both their faces as they regard Will. She seems mostly bored of Jason's hallucinations and has started to prick at her finger with Éleos until a drop of blood is drawn. Leo turns back to Jason while scrunching his nose. "Right," he says. "Could you be more specific on the 'whatever-it-is' part?"

          "Like a vapor trail," Jason elaborates, except it doesn't do much for the rest of his companions who are still staring out at the sky as if it will suddenly materialize for the rest of them. "Except it's glowing. Really faint, but it's definitely there. We've been following it since Chicago, so I figured you saw it," he shrugs.

          Leo shakes his head and says, "Maybe Festus can sense it. You think Aeolus made it?"

          "Well, it's a magic trail in the wind and Aeolus is the wind god. I think he knows we've got prisoners for him. He's telling us where to fly," Jason surmises with a shrug.

          "Or it's another trap," Piper mutters under her breath. No one misses the bitter undertone or how her voice is weighted with a certain heaviness. She feels like she's shattering, a paltry fracture that spreads until it can no longer go ignored. It demands to be known, to be felt.

          Tactless as ever, Will nods, agreeing with Piper. "That seems more likely."

          Leo sends her a sharp glare though it softens when he turns to Piper. It doesn't feel right either. He wonders how gentleness can still exist in him, whether or not this version of him will last. "Pipes, you all right?" he asks.

          "Don't call me that," she says sharply, though the way her voice trembles is a dead giveaway. She can't bear to hear that name when it only comes to her in the resonant voice of her father. And then comes the stifling guilt—a dark voice that tells her she will never move on from that.

          "Okay, fine. You don't like any of the names I make up for you. But if your dad's in trouble and we can help—"

          "You can't," she stresses. "Look, I'm tired. If you don't mind..."

Will can hear the way her bones rattle like they might give way at any moment. Guilt burrows deep beneath the surface, latching onto every sinew and sucks the marrow from your bones. Piper is sundering under the weight of her grief. And the only evidence is screams carved into brick, as if silence could ever satiate one's wrath.

Leo opens his mouth to try again. To reassure Piper that her sins were no worse than his—that at least they could be monsters together. But Will speaks up and he has to remember that monsters wear masks of blood and ooze apathy until it becomes them. Or maybe they have scorched palms and pretend to be human even when they're not. Where does the dichotomy end?

          "We're all tired, Valdez," she cuts in sharply. Now it's her turn to send him a predatory glare. He wilts. "You guys go to sleep. I'll take first watch."

Leo passes out almost as soon as he slumps forward, though Will's gall leaves him on a bitter note. Jason, on the other hand, tries to argue. He insists that he keeps watch until, in a surprising turn of events, Piper snaps, telling him to shut up and go to sleep. There's a certain song beneath her words that makes his eyes feel heavy and his head droop against Will's shoulder blade. She goes rigid, a frown tugging at the corner of her lips, though she doesn't shove him off or stab him—despite how much she'd like to.

Piper can't help the bubble of laughter that escapes as she looks at Will's grimace. Truthfully, she must be sleep deprived and delusional because Will's withering glare should have been enough to silence her instantaneously. But it doesn't. Piper has to bite back ugly laughs that otherwise would have left her feeling insecure, but the way that Will's lips twitch upward is enough to make her feel better about her embarrassment. Will is amused by her. Piper's only seen that look on her once or twice but she's already decided that the way it fills her with warmth makes her want to feel this way forever. If Piper were smarter then she might realize that amusement is not the same as affection.

But Piper is still learning to differentiate between love and using. Will would argue that they're one in the same. Using the ones we love to convince ourselves that we can be whole again. Will knows from experience. Having people who love you gives you hope that humanity is still a possibility, but love is still using even if it fills the void.

          Because once you are whole, what use will they be of to you?

WILL HAS SPENT TOO MUCH TIME RUNNING TO EVER FIND SAFETY IN SILENCE. Something is always lurking in the shadows, waiting to plant teeth deep in your gut and watch the blood spread like a wildfire. The silence is harrowing, but it's what she deserves. Hearing creaking floorboards and feeling your heart drop as every inch of your body rattles with suspense, buried deep in your bones. Silence is all-consuming. Anything could be waiting to turn good things bad.

It's been at least a few hours since they left the burning building in their wake. Leo is snoring at the front and Jason's head is still pressed against Will's shoulder blade. But Piper has not slept. She can't. She's scared of what she'll see each time she closes her eyes—wondering if her nightmares will come to life. Ghosts that used to be buried below the basement that have come to haunt her in the only way they know how. Piper knows that her betrayal has roots that dig deep into the earth and will grow until it is a living thing. She knows that even if Leo and Jason have forgiven her, she will never forgive herself.

She wants to be home again. She wants to sit underneath a clear sky and hear her fathers voice like the rough earth telling her stories about hungry wolves and how we learn to be good even if evil lives within us. It's how we learn to be whole again, feeding the good so that it never goes hungry again. But as Piper looks out at a different night sky, she's half convinced that she can never go home again. She can't possibly belong there anymore. If she were to walk on that soil and feel the warmth of the land, it would not welcome her. She would walk toward the sunset until she came upon the place where the living and dead intertwine—Ghost Country. That's where she'd find herself. It's the only place she really belongs anymore.

Piper pushes herself up from her slumped position abruptly. She doesn't want to think about what she'll see when she looks in the mirror, doesn't want to watch a ghost wear her skin. She expects Will to be startled, but she should have known that it wouldn't come as a surprise. Will had known that she was awake the entire time. She had left Piper to her thoughts, and even though they consumed her, Piper thought that the gesture was nice.

When Piper turns around in her seat, Will is already looking at her, watching her with that persistent calculating look on her face. Piper feels like she's on an examining table and Will is holding the scalpel, peeling back layers until she reaches a beating heart. The words fall past her lips before she can swallow them. They are too riddled with longing and pain to be kept in.

"I miss home."

Will doesn't say anything, just tilts her head in a way that suggests boredom.

          Piper continues anyway. "I miss Tahlequah. That's where I grew up," she explains. "Before we moved to L.A. my dad and I lived in Oklahoma with my grandpa. I haven't been back in years." Piper bites down on her cheek but that doesn't stop the wave of grief that racks her body. "My dad used to tell me all sorts of old Cherokee legends that grandpa Tom told him. But that was before he started pushing me away," she mutters bitterly.

She doesn't even notice how Will is still silent. It doesn't matter though. Piper is mourning a place that she can never return to. "I don't even care if he was ashamed of me or if he hated me, you know? I don't care that he was distant or that he didn't even fight to keep me with him. I just wish we could go back to that place." She wants to be lying beneath the stars with her father, listening to grandpa Tom's snoring drifting out into the night sky, and pretending that the empty spot beside her doesn't leave a gaping hole.

Piper sucks in a deep breath, choking back tears that threaten to escape. She looks back at Will whose dark eyes stare back at her. She's still just sitting there, watching—picking apart Piper's words and reforming them into a story that unveils everything. Piper hates it. She wants to scream until her throat is raw, let the entire world hear her cries until her name rings true. Say something, she wants to shout. Just say something! But her silent cries go unheard. Will says nothing at all. So Piper goes against her nature and swallows her anger.

"Are you mad at me?" she asks meekly. She wants her voice to be swallowed by the wind but this time her voice will not go unheard. It rings out in the night sky and reaches Will's ears before the wind drowns it. "I know I fucked up. I-I shouldn't have lied to you." Piper's voice trembles. "I know that. But I just—I can't lose him."

Again, Will says nothing and Piper hates it. It's unnerving to put your heart on your sleeve and hear nothing but silence. Her words are the only thing that fill the void and that only makes her wither more.

She continues. "I should have told you. I should have told everyone. You guys are my friends, but I was just so... scared."

Will has been listening to Piper's ramblings with her tongue between her teeth. The truth is that she understands. She wants to get back to a place that isn't her home anymore. She wants to feel whole again and she'd do anything it takes, even if that meant feeding lie after lie after lie. She would kill to feel whole again so she does understand what it's like to pull teeth just to watch them bleed. So she says, "Yeah, you should have told us. I hate being lied to."

"I know..."

"But you don't have to apologize. If I had someone I loved that much, I'd probably do the same." Will glances to Leo and Jason's sleeping bodies before turning back to Piper with certainty. "They've already forgiven you."

"Have you?" Piper asks quietly.

"It doesn't matter," she dismisses. "How will you forgive yourself?" Her words sound sharp but there's an unfamiliar gentleness to them. It's an honest question. There's nothing scathing about it. How will you forgive yourself? You see, it's never anyone else's anger that drags you down. It's always your own. It's your guilt that burdens you and even if they do forgive you, you will never feel deserving of it. You will never forgive yourself for the blood on your hands.

By now they are drowning in silence so thick that it's suffocating. Piper is plagued by Will's question, but the truth is that she already knows the answer.

Breaking through the silence, a strange mechanical whirring rings out. Piper and Will share an uneasy look as Festus drops a foot in the air before leveling out. But it doesn't matter. Piper has already felt her stomach drop as she glances back to Will.

"The same thing happened back in Detroit. Right before—"

But Piper doesn't get to finish her thought before they are plummeting, feeling wind rushing past their ears as they fall past drifting clouds. She lets out a guttural scream on instinct. She can't even hear her heart beating out of her chest before Jason's screams drown out the meager noise.

          Will almost laughs, but it seems like the wrong time, so instead she shouts, "Try not to fuck up your ankle again, Oklahoma!"

No one finds it quite as humorous as her, but before anyone can chastise her Leo jolts awake.

          "Not again!" he yells. "You can't fall again!"

He barely manages to hold onto Festus, gripping the golden dragon so hard that he thinks his hands might fall off. He's tugging at wires, desperately trying to see what went wrong. But the lights are growing closer and the ugly landing is inevitable.

          "Jason!" he shouts over the wind. Panic seeps into his voice and it almost gets caught in his throat. He doesn't have time for anger or guilt. He wants them to survive—even Will—so he says, "Fly Piper and Will out of here!"

          "What?"

          "We need to lighten the load! I might be able to reboot Festus, but he's carrying too much weight!"

          "What about you?" Piper cries. She can't lose anyone else. "If you can't reboot him—"

          "I'll be fine," Leo yells. "Just follow me to the ground. Go!"

Jason frowns but wastes no time in grabbing Piper and Will before unbuckling their harnesses. And then they're gone, somewhere above Leo as Jason struggles to keep them afloat. There's a dull light from Leo's hands that keeps flickering, but Will is busy watching the city lights come into focus. She's watching Leo's slow demise as death creeps closer and closer. For a moment Festus seems to react, slowing their fall into a glide as Leo steers them towards a snowy yard outside of a mansion.

But Will is not convinced. "He's not going to make it," she says.

"Why would you say that?" Piper cries angrily. She finally explodes, though she doesn't meant to. She's so scared that Will is right, because what would she do if he doesn't make it?

Spotlights fixate on Festus and Leo as the ground comes closer, almost blinding them as the dragon pulls back. As Piper sucks in a shallow breath, the sound is replaced by tracer fire bursts raining down and pelting Festus violently as the metal is ripped to shreds. Jason pulls up quickly to avoid being in the line of fire. He has Piper and Will to worry about, but his gut still clenches with fear for Leo. There's an explosion somewhere down below but Leo is still trying to steer the dragon away with hot tears in his eyes. Will knows a lost cause when she sees one. She tries to think what Annabeth would do or what Sherman would do, but the thing about them is that they don't understand the sickening desperation of someone who's about to lose everything. But Will does.

She rips Jason's arm from her body, ignoring his and Piper's screams as she plummets in a downward spiral. Though she struggles to aim for the moving dragon, Will grits her teeth and lunges for a panel on the dragon's hide. She grips it viciously as the force sends her body slamming into the metal. Ignoring the bruising, Will starts to climb to Leo, clawing tooth and nail to reach him. Festus has reared back, his chest exposed to the bullets so that they are shielded by layers of metal, but bullet holes start to tear through, threatening to hit Will's grappling hands as she makes her way up the dragon.

"What are you doing?" Leo shouts as Will finally reaches him. One of her hands is gripping the back of his shirt as the other digs clings to Festus' neck. "Get out of here!"

Before Will can think about what she's doing, she rips through his harness and pushes off from Festus with all of her might. They plummet downwards as the scene above them plays out. Leo can do nothing but watch as Festus is torn to shreds, shrapnel falling around the two of them as the world starts to spin. Before they hit the ground, Leo looks at Will. He looks at her like he wants to set her on fire. There's tears streaming down his cheeks and his hands clench against his own chest, needing something to tether him to reality. He hates her.

But it doesn't matter, because Will knows him. If it wasn't for her, he never would have let go. He wouldn't have walked away even in death.

WHEN LEO FINALLY COMES TO, PIPER AND JASON ARE HOVERING OVER HIM. He's covered in mud and grease, and the snow around him has hollowed out in the shape of his body. There's another hole in the snow like a fallen angel that remains empty.

"Where—"

"Lie still." Piper demands with tears in her eyes. Her cheeks are blotchy and red. "You rolled pretty hard when—" she chokes back a sob. "When Festus—"

"Where is he?" Leo tries to sit up but his head starts to spin and he feels like he's about to spill his guts on the pale snow. The last thing he remembered was gunfire and Will's grim face staring back at him before his vision went dark. There's a dark mass building in his gut, something akin to dread or anger.

"Seriously, Leo," Jason says, reaching a hand out to him. "You could be hurt. You shouldn't—"

Leo ignores him, pushing himself to his feet and shoving Jason's hand out of his way. He swallows down the pain that threatens to arise and stumbles towards the the ugly spectacle before them. It's a massacre. Body parts strewn across the lawn, left charred as smoke lifts into feathery plumes.

"No," he sobs, his voice coming out scratchy and dull. His body feels like it's caving in on him, guts twisting as grief digs beneath his bones. He rushes to the dragon's side, watching its eyes flicker and fade as his own swell with tears. "You can't go," Leo cries. "You can't fucking go." And then quieter, "You're the best thing I ever fixed."

No one says a word. This time the silence is deafening.

"It's not fair," he says.

The dragon clicks. One long creak, two short. He does it again and again until Leo let's out a shaky breath. "Yeah," he mutters. "I understand. I will. I promise."

Festus' eyes go dark and Leo no longer sees the dim red glow. Instead, all he sees is his reflection staring back at him. Caked in mud with bruising creeping up around his neck. His vision is so blurry that he can hardly make out the shell of a person looking back at him. And then he cries. Loud and unbecoming. He lets out a cry that leaves his lungs burning. It's the kind of sound that is haunting—nails on a chalkboard or something that sends chills down your spine. But that pain turns to anger. He needs something that he can control.

And then he sees her. Standing a few feet away by a charred piece of metal. Her arms are wrapped around her torso as she drags her eyes away from the scattered dragon. As Leo makes his way over, she only watches. She waits with a somber expression. There's an understanding in her eyes that almost stops him in his tracks. He's never seen something look so close to sympathy in her bright, dead eyes.

It's OK. Your anger deserves to be known.

But Leo cannot be bothered with anything akin to softness in this moment. His wrath needs a surrogate and even Will won't fight him on that. "You," he seethes. "You did this. You did this to him!" His words are muddled with sobs and as he shoves against her shoulders, she barely even stumbles.

Piper and Jason are still, watching with bated breath. They've never seen Leo like this—so quick to hurt someone just to feel whole again. He wishes he could hurt her, but even as he shoves her—harder this time—he doesn't feel any better. He just wants to collapse, curl into a ball and sink into the earth until he is nothing once more.

Will watches him. Her lips pulled down into a frown as he screams at her. She lets it happen.

"Leo," Piper says urgently. "She saved you!"

"Well I didn't ask her to!" Leo shouts, turning to Piper abruptly. "I never asked you to," he whimpers before falling to his knees. Jason is quick to wrap his arms around the crumbling boy, one hand imbedded in his dark curls and the other gripping his shoulders like he might break. Piper takes Leo's hand in hers as he sinks into their hold. He forgot what it was like to be held, to be loved.

Once his body stops racking with sobs, Jason murmurs, "I'm so sorry, Leo. What did you promise Festus?"

Leo sniffles, crawling over to Festus' head and opening opening the panel as if miraculously it could be fixed. But it's still damaged beyond repair. "Something my dad told me," Leo says. "Everything can be reused."

"Your dad talked to you?" Jason asks softly. "When?"

Leo doesn't answer. He works at the dragon's neck hinges until the head is detached. He holds it in his shaking arms and looks up at the night sky, saying, "Take him back to the bunker, Dad. Please, until I can reuse him. I've never asked you for anything."

The wind lifts the dragon's head out of Leo's arms and drags it up into the stars until it is out of sight. It doesn't stop him from feeling hollowed out inside. And when he looks at Will there's a tug of guilt. She just watches on silently. Even beneath her somber expression Leo knows that a monster lurks beneath the surface. He knows because he has the very same one eating away at him.

Piper looks on at the night sky in astonishment. "He answered you?"

"I had a dream," Leo manages to say, though his voice still comes out raw and ugly. "Tell you later." He changes the topic, clearing his throat as if that will strip away his grief. "Where are we?" he asks. "I mean, what city?"

"Omaha, Nebraska," Piper supplies. "I saw a billboard as we flew in. But I don't know what this mansion is. We came in right behind you, but when you were landing, Leo, I swear it looked like —I don't know—"

"Lasers," Leo says. He picks up a piece of dragon wreckage and throws it toward the top of the fence. Almost immediately it is incinerated, falling to the ground in ashes that blend with the snow.

Jason grimaces. "Some defense system. How are we even alive?"

"Festus," Leo mutters lowly. "He took the fire. The lasers sliced him to bits as he came in so they didn't focus on you guys. I led him into a death trap."

"You couldn't have known," Piper says, taking a step forward. She wants to put a hand on his shoulder or let him know in some way that she's there for him. That she will always be there for him. "He saved our lives again."

"But what now?" Jason asks. "The main gates are locked, and I'm guessing I can't fly us out of here without getting shot down."

Leo looks up the walkway at the looming mansion with glass eyes. "Since we can't go out, we'll have to go in."

They start to walk towards the glaring building. Piper leads the way as Will follows and Jason tries to keep pace with the daughter of Ares. He wants to say something. His mouth opens and then closes. But nothing he could say would fill a silence so loud. Piper glances back at them, though that age-old bitterness is absent. She wants to feel spite at the sight of them, but all she can feel is unadulterated fear. She has to remind herself that Will has endured worse than a meager boy whose anger consumes him. She has to remind herself that Will is a warrior, that her skin is thick enough to draw blood from stone.

Jason, however, is watching her with a certain sadness. He knows exactly what Will was thinking, how Leo's pain demands to be felt. She would have let him beat her black and blue until he felt that his grief was heard. Jason knows because some inkling tells him that he would have done the same thing. Humans and monsters are all the same at heart. Their pain is a living, breathing thing that hungers and is buried with wolves teeth. And as Leo trails behind them, eyes boring into Will's head, he imagines how anger has dirt beneath its nails and a hunger lodged between its ribs.

          And here is his anger, digging up all of the things he worked so hard to bury.

note: RIP festus. i always felt so bad for leo though cause he loved that dragon. so let's all have a moment of silence for happy the dragon. see ya on the argo ii buddy

also this is severely unedited and ugly so i might have to come back and fix it later😗✌️