#tired & exhausted but still ready to sit on the bed w percy

[pachyderm-matchmaker]

i am elated and overjoyed and so jazzed abt this tv show, do not get me wrong

that said: i am NOT enjoying this portrayal of sally jackson

[freakingbellam]

Timeless (HP & HOO crossover x reader)

Synopsis: What would you say if I told you that Hogwarts and Camp Half-Blood are not so far apart? Yeah, Gale and Y/n would also say this is crazy. But these two girls are about to discover that even though they are far apart, the magic that surrounds them is the same. After all, what do a time travel, a fearful prophecy and a Titan about to resurrect, have in common? Certainly more than you can imagine.

Paring: Apollo x reader

Warnings: None, I guess.

Reader: Percy's step sister! reader

Word count: 1.7k

A / N: escreve o que quiser (notas da autora)

September 2010, New York - USA

Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t cry like a baby when she saw Argo II return to Camp Half-Blood. She had been forbidden to help in the battle against the giants, but she was nevertheless not full at Camp. After the near invasion of Camp Jupiter and Reyna's visit, things got messed up there.

But the best part of the return of the other demigods was seeing Percy again. He looked extremely exhausted, but happy to be back in one piece. Y/n hugged him for so long that Percy almost fell asleep in her arms.

The boy was welcomed with all the frenzy he deserved, entitled to a hearty banquet and a visit from his father, along with a very tearful Sally and a relieved Paul.

Tyson had been absolutely thrilled to see his older brother talking to his friends by the fire, which glowed high and yellow, mirroring the emotion of the half-bloods.

Despite being as happy as the others, and maybe even more so, Y/n retired a little earlier that night. She didn't walk long before her absence was noticed.

‘Mingling with the shadows? I thought this was my own thing.” The girl smiled at Nico di Angelo, who walked over to her with his hands in the pockets of his aviator jacket, which was still too big for him.

“I'm going to sleep, Nico.” She explained, continuing her way to Cabin 3. “It was a day full of emotions, I'm tired.”

Nico nodded, walking beside her. Y/n always found it fun to be the same size as Nico, but now she realized that he was a few inches taller than she was.

“Are you okay?” she asked, bringing up the subject.

“I think so.” Nico replied, looking surprised by his own conclusion. “Maybe things get better for me from now on.”

“I'm sure it will.” Y/n opened an encouraging smile. Because he was the son of Hades, Nico suffered more than all the other demigods, which worried the girl. She hadn't seen him since the war of the Titans, but she talked to Percy during her mission and discovered things she didn't want to discover.

She looked at Nico. For the first time in his life, his face looked serene, as if his problems were gone. Y/n realized that it would be better not to go into details about the problems he went through. She did not want to end his joy.

“Di Angelo!” someone called, running up to them. Y/n turned to find Will Solace smiling like a ray of sunshine. “Hi Y/n!”

“Will.” She smiled. When looking at Nico, she noticed a pink tint on his cheeks and held her laugh. “Can you take care of Nico for me? I need to go to sleep but he doesn't want to leave.”

Will smiled, realizing what she meant. Nico looked at her with anger and indignation, but he didn't seem against the idea.

“Certainly.” The blonde took a step forward. “Have a good night!”

“You too.” She raised an eyebrow at Nico and walked back to her cabin.

She was still smiling when she passed Hecate's cabin, which looked darker than ever. Her smile wilted. She had always been a little afraid of the goddess's children since she found herself a half-blood and moved to camp. But that night, something seemed comforting in the hideous darkness of the cabin. Unable to contain the impulse that occurred to her, Y/n went up on the porch and went through the open door. None of the goddess's children were there, they were probably still at the stake celebrating, they always loved a good party.

Y/n didn't know exactly what she expected to find inside, but she certainly wasn't ready for what she saw. She had never entered the cabin since she had never been invited and it didn't feel right to enter without an invitation like she did now. But what she found was an absolute void. No bunk beds, bathroom, closet or chest. Nothing for the basic comfort of teenagers. All that was inside was a torch on the floor with a brown leather-bound notebook beside it.

“Take it” A whisper said, and Y/n knelt down to better analyze the notebook.

“Who...?” She started the question, but knew at the time that she had no need to finish it. Hecate was there. “Are you hiding in the shadows?”

There was a harsh laugh, but Y/n couldn't tell where it came from. It was as if the goddess moved in every particle of air around her.

“I heard that Poseidon's children were mocking, but seeing that feat face to face is much more fun. Ares definitely didn't say enough about it.”

“I don't think he has any reason to boast about it.” She commented, but her body was tense. Something about the goddess made her feel that bad things would happen any second.

“Take the notebook.” She asked, seeming to feel the girl's tension. “Take it and bring my girl back.”

“What does that mean?” Y/n asked, but never got an answer.

After several minutes, she finally let herself be overcome by curiosity, put the notebook under her arm and ran out of the cabin.

Y/n spent a few days without touching the notebook, which was comfortably resting on the small table in her cabin. Percy asked several times what the notebook was and why Y/n didn't move it, but the girl always answered the same thing. "It's just a silly notebook." She was afraid to open it and end up triggering something she couldn't control.

Percy and the others had just returned from a massacre battle with irreparable losses, she didn't want to leave anyone alarmed by something as stupid as a leather notebook.

Y/n tried to distract herself. She would swim in the lake, duel with Percy in the arena, ask Tyson to teach her something in the forges, help Chiron with pending camp, talk about the biggest zucchinis with Rachel, encourage Annabeth to talk nonstop about architecture, sometimes make her repeat everything he had said in Greek, but nothing seemed to get her thoughts out of the notebook. Instead of being distracted, she got some scars from the duels, burns from the forges and throbbing ears, but nothing erased the notebook.

Tired of trying, Y/n returned to the cabin and spent several minutes looking at the problem. She would get up a few times, making a move to pick it up, but soon she would go back to sitting on bed. When she finally thought she would be brave enough to end the trip, someone knocked on the door.

Changing her course, Y/n opened the door to the blond, smug figure.

Y/n and Apollo had spent a lot of time together a few months before, not that any of them had a chance to do the opposite. He had helped her save the Camp when everyone seemed too busy saving the world. Now she was no longer able to get rid of the sun god, who suddenly appeared in her cabin. At least now he had learned to knock on the door before entering.

“Good afternoon, beautiful lady.” He smiled, breaking into the cottage before Y/n had a chance to expel him. “What do you do locked in that cabin?”

“Apollo, seriously, now is not the best time.”

“Every hour is the best time for Apollo!” He smiled at her and Y/n found herself unable to say no to him. The god had that effect on her, but she couldn't explain why. She just went back to bed and sighed.

“What happened, Sunshine?” he asked, now more serious.

Y/n pointed to the notebook, like a child pointing out the bully who was mistreating her. Pausing to think, it was almost the same.

Apollo's gaze followed Y/n 's finger until it stopped at the Hecate symbol on the cover of the notebook, and he froze.

“What's it?”

“That notebook.” He got up and picked up it, playing with it in his hands. “I saw Hecate with another of his once many years ago. I asked her what they were, but she cast a spell on me that prevented me from speaking for two months. Where did you find it?”

“I found him at her cabin.” The girl admitted, unable to lie to the closest friend she had at the camp until that moment. “I heard Hecate ask me to take him away. I didn't understand what she expects me to do.”

“Write.” He suggested, after long minutes of silence.

“I’m sorry?” Y/n looked at him, confused. “What if something bad happens, Apollo? I don't know if I want to find out.”

The god smiled gently, taking the book to the girl and handing it over, along with a blue ballpoint pen. Y/n hesitated for a few seconds before picking up the pen and opening the notebook. But she didn't do much more than that, as the words “Owned by G. J. W.” they magically appeared on the first leaf, in a strange black ink.

Y/n looked at Apollo for help, but he just shrugged and encouraged her to write something below. "G. J. W.? This notebook is mine, and my name has none of those letters!”

Before she had a chance to tell Apollo how ridiculous it was, the notebook replied.

G: "Who are you?"

Y: “Y/n Y/l/n, are you?”

G: "Gale Wright"

Y: “How the hell am I talking to you through my notebook? Where you are from?"

G: “England. I'm a student at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, how about you? What school of magic do you belong to? ”

Y: "I'm not going to any magic school, I'm from New York, there's no such thing here!"

G: "I thought the United States school of magic was Ilvermorny"

Y: "I am not a witch!"

G: "Oh by Merlin, are you a muggle?"

Y: "Look, I may not be a witch but you don't have to curse me!"

G: “Muggle is a term for non-wizards ... But if you are not a witch, how can you talk to me? This notebook is bewitched, only those who have contact with magic could see it ”

Y: "I didn't know that the notebook was enchanted until now ... I didn't even know about the existence of a school of magic, wizards, yes, now schools? No, things are very different here"

G: "Different how?"

Y: "I am a camper at Camp Half-Blood"

G: "And what would that be?"

Y: "Well, a camp for demigods, of course!"

Y/n waited, but nothing else happened. She looked up at Apollo, who looked as upset as she was.

“School of Magic and Witchcraft of... Hogwarts?” She asked, hoping that Apollo would say something to her.

“I've heard of that school. Hecate loves to talk about how she has an entire chain of schools that teach children to do what she does. She is very proud of it.” He explained, taking the notebook from Y/n and examining the last conversation. “I just didn't think it was real at all. All the gods think it's Hecate's invention, but no one has ever tried to prove it.”

“Well, I think we just did that.” Y/n joked, but was far from feeling the fun of the situation, because, there in front of her, there was a problem. Perhaps a much bigger problem than she imagined.

[solangelover]

3 Days + 1: Day 1

Solangelo Spring Ball 2020 - Collab w/ @nicostolemybones

Read on AO3 or FF.Net

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4

A/N: For @solangeloweek ’s Spring Ball event, I worked with @nicostolemybones​ to write a 3 days infirmary fic (plus an extra bonus day). I’ve wanted to write a 3 days fic since the beginning, so it was great to finally get it done in my first collab! The days will be linked above, including linking over to my friend’s posts. Happy reading!

As Nico jogged up to Will, who was waiting on the steps of the Big House, Will blurted out, “What was that about?” He glanced over Nico’s shoulder at the power couple of camp. Percy and Annabeth seemed wrapped up in their world, as per usual. Though, no one could really fault them anymore. They’d literally been through hell together. Probably no one was happier that the war was over than those two.

“Just saying bye,” Nico rushed out, now standing directly in front of the healer with a light blush covering his cheeks. “He and Annabeth may be leaving soon.”

“Leaving camp?” Will tapped his chin in thought. “I guess that makes sense. Gods know they deserve a freaking break.”

Nico nearly scoffed, “Yeah, if another war happens in our lifetime…” He trailed off, shaking his head. Like he really needed another reminder that, as a child of the Big Three, he would forever be a prime candidate for major prophecies. After all the burial rites he performed recently, he was getting tired of the death that followed him around like a led ball chained to his ankle. He was feeling exhausted just thinking about another war.

“Nico,” Will’s fingers snapped right in front of Nico’s eyes, jerking him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” he responded, straightening up his stance. Once aware of his body, he realized that he was practically sinking to the floor. Will had a hand wrapped around his forearm to steady him. The hand felt warm on Nico’s cold skin.

Will’s blue eyes bore into Nico’s brown ones, concern evident as he scanned demigod’s face. “You zoned out on me,” he frowned. “Come on, I told you you should’ve come here sooner. Let’s get inside.”

With that, Will shifted his grip down to Nico’s wrist and tugged him along into the infirmary. Nico could do nothing but follow, heat flooding into his cheeks both at the contact and the fact that Will seemed so concerned about Nico. After all, they didn’t know each other that well. Up until that day on the hill, he and Will hadn’t really had a conversation before. Of course, that was Nico’s fault for never being around. Or friendly. Or really giving anyone a reason to be his friend. But still, he was confused as to why Will seemed to care just as much as his close friends did.

As they marched through the infirmary, Nico glanced at the few campers still recovering from the battle. Other than some nasty scrapes or broken bones, no one seemed on the verge of death, which Nico was happy about. He shook his head as his thoughts wandered toward the way it felt during battle, with death surrounding him on all sides. That’s not what he should think about in a place of healing.

Nico was also concerned that his dark thoughts were making his aura of death stronger than normal, or maybe it seemed that way when juxtaposed with the sense of life and light that emanated from the Apollo healers. Some of the conscious campers eyed Nico with suspicion or fear, like he was the grim reaper coming to take them away. Even a few of the healers seemed wary, though they all looked away quickly. When Nico looked back toward Will, he noticed the blonde had the trace of a glare in his expression. He wondered what that was about.

The boys ventured deeper into the infirmary than Nico had ever gone, not that he visited often anyway. He cleared his throat to get Will’s attention. “Uhm, I don’t know if I should be here.”

Will huffed, “Nico di Angelo, I already told you, three days. You need to be checked out—I mean, medically speaking,” Nico had no idea why Will needed to clarify that, “—and you are not getting out of it.”

“No, I meant, like, I shouldn’t be here. Like, physically in this specific place.”

They stopped in front of a curtain at the back of the infirmary, far from everyone else. Nico wasn’t sure if this made him more comfortable or nervous.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well,” Nico said sheepishly. Wasn’t it obvious? “People come here to get healed. And I don’t do that.”

Will rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, neither do the Ares kids, yet we still let them come in, even when the injuries are their own doing.” His eyes softened when he gazed at Nico. “You’re not the harbinger of death, we both know that. Your father is god of the underworld, and riches or whatever. If anything, you and your father care for the dead like we healers care for our patients.”

Nico snorted at that, which made Will smile brightly. “Not quite, Solace, but sure, I guess.” His countenance became nervous once again as he glanced back toward where the other campers were. “I don’t want to make people uncomfortable, though.”

Will was still smiling when he pushed the curtains aside, bringing Nico’s attention back to him. “Well, they’ll have to get used to it. You’re my patient now and no one is stopping me from doing my job.”

Right, caring was Will’s job. He doesn’t care specifically about me, Nico reminded himself. He couldn’t get ahead of himself, couldn’t risk hoping for something that wasn’t really there. Nico sat on the white bed at Will’s ushering, his shoulders sinking in exhaustion he hadn’t even realized was there. The son of Apollo left momentarily, saying something about medical supplies that Nico barely understood.

While he sat there, Nico could feel his eyelids growing heavy. He leaned his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands, pressing his palms into his eyes. He was so tired. Nico was always tired, especially given what he went through over the past couple months, but it was like, now that the war was over, his body didn’t have any adrenaline to keep him upright. Part of him was nervous about falling asleep in a semi-public place, but the other part knew he could sleep on the cold, hard floor if he had to.

As he rubbed at his eyes, trying to push the exhaustion away, he started to feel an ache in his neck and shoulders. It’s not like he was surprised, but he realized that the familiar pain had faded into the background as everything else had called his attention. Instead of trying to stretch it out, he just continued to sit, hunching up his shoulders a little.

Will cleared his throat when he re-entered the room, causing Nico to rub his eyes one last time before straightening up. When he looked at Will, he noticed he had a cart full of supplies in tow. His mind became more alert when he realized that all of those medical things were to be used on him.

“That’s,” he croaked, like he hadn’t spoken in a while. He coughed and restarted, “That’s a lot of stuff there.”

Will blushed a little as he sat on the chair near Nico’s bed. “Well, I’m not really sure what kind of injuries you have or treatments you’ll need, so I kind of just… brought everything.”

Nico chuckled, leaning back on his hands as Will grabbed his clipboard.

“Okay, let’s get started.” Will clicked his pen. “How do you feel?”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Solace? That’s how you start?”

“It’s a standard question! If you know what needs healing, then we might as well start there.”

“Whatever,” Nico rolled his eyes again. “I’m fine.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re fine? A second ago, you looked like you were ready to pass out right there.”

Nico flushed a little at the observation. “I’m just tired.”

Will hummed as he looked Nico over, making him fidget under the scrutiny. “So it’s gonna be like that, huh?” He placed his clipboard to the side, then said, “I’ll give you my assessment, then you tell me if I’m right.”

Before Nico could ask how he’d do that, Will’s hand darted out and snatched up Nico’s own. Nico instinctively leaned away and tried to pull his hand back, but Will held fast as he closed his eyes in concentration. Nico gulped as he watched the healer’s expression become pinched with concern. Will mumbled under his breath for the next ten seconds before his eyes flew open with a gasp. Nico took the opportunity to yank his hand back, cradling it to his chest like he’d been burned.

“What—”

“Nico di Angelo,” Will cut him off in his stern doctor voice, and Nico’s jaw snapped shut. “So, you’re going to sit here and tell me that irritated and badly healed wounds, torn muscles, extreme exhaustion, and power drain make you a perfectly fine demigod?”

Nico blinked at the slew of information. He wasn’t sure exactly what Will was talking about, but he had a few ideas. Unsure of how to respond, Nico just shrugged at the irate healer before him.

Will pinched his nose before dropping back into his seat and picking up his clipboard once more. He scribbled furiously while Nico looked on. “How did you do that?” Nico asked.

Will glanced up through his bangs before going back to his notes. “Son of Apollo thing. I can get a general health assessment through touch. It varies between demigods, but I’ve gotten pretty good at quick checks because of the wars.”

Nico frowned as Will kept writing. He hated that they all had to say “wars” now, like one wasn’t enough.

“Okay,” Will sat up straight and glared at Nico. “I’ll ask again, di Angelo, and you better not lie. How are you feeling?”

Nico frowned. “I really am tired, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Hm,” Will thought, leaning back in his chair. “More specific questions then. Does your body hurt at all? Strained muscles? Headache? Fresh wounds? Bruises? Anything causing you pain?”

The son of Hades tilted his head in thought. He knew things vaguely ached, but what exactly, he wasn’t sure—too used to the feeling, probably. “Um, I guess my shoulders kind of hurt. And my head, probably from being tired.”

Will jotted a few things down before setting the clipboard aside. “Okay, let’s deal with some of that first, though I know there’s a lot more going on.” He shot Nico a glare over his shoulder as he stood up and moved toward the supply cart. He handed Nico a square of ambrosia, who gratefully accepted and began taking small bites of it.

“Just for some of the general pain. You’ll need actual rest for the fatigue once we’re done.” He moved to crouch down next to Nico. “Can I take a look at your shoulders? I’m going to just roll up your sleeve for now to assess the damage.”

Nico nodded, only flinching slightly when Will’s fingers brushed his bicep. Will smiled at him as he pushed up the right-side sleeve. Once it was up, however, his eyes widened and he gasped. Nico tried to get a glimpse of what Will was looking at, but it was a little too close for him to see. But, knowing what the injury was from, he’s not surprised that it’s still bad. “Monster attack,” was all he said.

“Oh gods, Nico, I can’t believe you said you were fine. Doesn’t this hurt?” He touched his fingers lightly to the angry red skin on Nico’s shoulder, all puffed up around what was clearly a nasty gash. Nico shivered at the touch and stared straight ahead.

“It hurts a little, but it’s been a while, so I’m probably just used to it.” He heard Will let out a disbelieving huff, staring a little longer before quickly going back to the cart.

He pulled out an ice pack, saying, “We’ll use this to keep the swelling down for now. The ambrosia should be enough for you to rest easily and we can treat it tomorrow. I’ll check your other shoulder too, just in case.” Nico nodded as Will moved to his other side, taking the ice pack and holding it in place. This time, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when the sleeved was rolled up and no wounds were present.

Will stood and wrote down a few more things on his clipboard. “Okay, Death Boy, we’ll do more treatment things tomorrow, I think today, we can focus on rest. You look like you’re ready to pass out.”

Nico narrowed his eyes at the son of Apollo, swallowing the rest of his ambrosia before saying, “Really? Death Boy?”

Will smirked, and it was a look Nico hadn’t seen yet on Will and okay that’s something. “I have a few other names in mind. We’ll test them out and see what sticks.” He turned toward the cart and began packing it up. “Be right back,” he threw over his shoulder while pushing the cart out of the curtained-off area.

Alone again, Nico continued to hold the ice pack in place, feeling marginally better as the ambrosia began to kick in. He didn’t exactly forget about the injury from Lycaon, but he will admit that it didn’t cross his mind to get it looked at at the infirmary. Reyna and Coach Hedge had done enough for him to be in fighting condition, so he figured it would heal on its own.

Nico pulled his legs up onto the bed and leaned back, suddenly realizing how tense he had been this whole time. As he rolled out his neck, he felt exhaustion tug at his mind. But he couldn’t sleep yet, he didn’t know if Will was done! His body, however, had other plans as he felt himself sink into the cot and his eyes slipped shut.

He heard the curtain rustle, followed by a soft chuckle. Will slid the ice pack from Nico’s loose grip and shifted his arm down to his side. The touch was light, but still present. Nico made some kind of sound in an attempt to say… well, something, he didn’t know what. But Will shushed him, smoothing a hand over his hair.

“It’s alright. You can sleep now. Get some rest, Nico.” Then, Will began to lightly run his fingers through Nico’s hair, probably a natural comforting gesture. To Nico, it felt like warmth was radiating out from where Will’s fingertips brushed against his scalp. He felt his whole body relax, down to the tips of his toes. The ever-present ache in his bones subsided a little, and Nico felt a peace he hadn’t felt in a while.

He fell asleep to soft hums and small comforts.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Kingdom Collisions IV

This is a fic i’m writing to incorporate more descriptions into my writing. Updates are sporadic as i don’t have chapters written in advance. I hope, however, you enjoy what is here :)

masterlist

P.S. ardor means flame in latin; cielo means sky in spanish

Jason Grace is tired. So so tired. Exhaustion is a weight pressing into his bones. He doesn't know why he snapped at Percy. His patience is usually an infinite string wrapping around his throat and tying a bow against his collarbone. But every part of him feels out of place. He stares at the mirror mounted to the wooden wall, stares at it until his eyes cross. But he doesn't recognize the person staring back.

They have the same blonde hair and blue eyes. The same tall, half-gangly half-lean frame. And the wonky glasses. But they don't have the spark that glitters in his eye. Or the dancing fingers that constantly needed to be entertained. No, those fingers lay limp at his side.

He sighs and moves to collapse onto his bed. At the very least the silk sheets are blissfully cool under his skin. When they had first got to the cabin he had been surprised at the sheer lack of opulence. In all his years of being a Prince and visiting every castle and vacation-home known to man he thought he had a pretty good idea about what royalty was like. But Crown Prince Percy Jackson and Queen Sally Jackson continue to surprise him. When they had insisted on a small wedding, consisting of no more than what was needed to officiate a royal ceremony, or when Queen Sally had pulled him aside after their dinner the night before and hugged him tight enough to stop his air flow.

"I am sorry Jason," She looked at him, her sea blue eyes glistening with unshed tears, "That you have to give up so many of your own choices. I hope one day, you will find peace and happiness despite the circumstances."

He had thanked her but her words, even now, puzzles him to the point of headaches.

Why did she care what happened to him? And why did she think he didn't have any choices?

His kingdom is as much a part of this agreement as theirs. All these questions buzz incessantly in his mind enough that he feels the low throb of a migraine at the base of his skull. Immediately, he pushes himself off the bed and gets into an ice cold shower. On top of everything, he doesn't need to be sick.

The shower beats against his back as he gets lost in his thoughts, remembering the last time time he had been under the relentless spray, in his own castle.

I can't believe you have to get married to some pompous no good jackass.

Aw don't say that. We don't even know him.

Yea but he's taking you away from me so I hate him

Don’t worry my ardor, I will find my way back to you.

A calloused hand, the colour of brass, snaked under his arm, resting against his chest, where his heart beats steadily.

What if you end up falling for each other?

He turned around, looking deep into those coffee eyes.

I don't know how I could possibly fall for anyone when you have already caught me.

I hate you for making me cry.

Jason had leaned in, tilted up that angular face, brushed away the curls.

I love you my ardor.

I love you mi cielo.

The memory fades as he pulls himself back to the present, letting the sound of sleepy birds and rushing water ground him.

Shutting off the shower he dries himself off quickly, glad to find the oncoming migraine gone. Not bothering with anything but a pair of boxers he makes his way into the lounge where the fire is slowly dying. He shoves a few more logs in and settles down on the fleece rug in front of it. Percy, he observes, is still holed up in his room.

He knows he should apologize, should offer some peace treaty after snapping like that, but he can't bring himself to care. He just wants to be at home, surrounded by his people, by his person.

He hasn't stopped thinking about them, about that smile, or the way their ears turn red when they notice Jason staring, or how they can fix literally anything you put in front of them.

He had asked why they never followed their father, take of the family business, why they chose to become a royal guard instead, but his ardor had shrugged and said there were more exciting things in the world than melting metal.

Jason always dragged them closer and tangled his fingers in that messy hair.

Well I guess it was the right choice. Because it brought you to me.

And then words were no longer necessary.

He shakes himself out of it, out of the life he's left so far behind. There is nothing there for him now. Nothing but a coronation and ruling for the rest of his days. The thought makes him queasy. Makes him want to fly into the sky and live amongst the clouds. Life, he thinks, would be much simpler if they could escape to the sky. Instead, he picks up the book he is reading and escapes into another world.

Some time later he dozes off, head lolling to the side. His dreams take him to hands of fire and cheeky smiles. He dreams of comfort.

"Jason," Someone calls him.

He mumbles for them to go away and tries to tuck himself back into bed, only to fall over and slam into a hard something?

"You can't sleep like this," The voice is saying, "You're going to ache tomorrow."

"Don't care." He groans, curling into a ball.

"Come on,"

And then he's being lifted clean of his feet and hoisted over a shoulder.

"What are you doing?" He manages to mutter.

"You can't sleep like that. First of all the floor is not comfortable and second I don't know how much you move in your sleep and I don't want a Jason barbecue."

"I don't want to sleep in my room." His brain is foggy and he trips over every second word.

"Why?"

"Iss cold."

"I'll get you another blanket." Percy's voice is nothing but a raspy breath.

"Have two," He mumbles, "Need to sleep with my—"

He’s cut off by a yawn.

"Your what?"

"My what what?"

He can hear his husband— oh yes his husband, what a silly thought— sigh and he pictures those striking green eyes rolling.

"My room has sun for most of the day, you can sleep there for now. We can discuss your room when you’re less sleep deprived. Sound good?"

"Soundddss dreamy," He sighs, fighting his fast closing eyes.

Just before the world disappears he's placed gently on cotton sheets. He can hear the birds starting to sing and he can feel the sun bathing his usually pale skin.

"This isss ni—" He yawns, "nice."

Jason Grace is fast asleep.

***

The Prince opens his eyes slowly, blinking back into the present. He doesn't recognize his surroundings. There's a small pile of clothes on a maple-wood rocking chair in the corner, and emerald curtains, fastened by glimmering ties, open to reveal huge arched windows. He looks down to see his legs entangled in black sheets and the faintest threads of cerulean blue weaving between the strands.

Percy's room, then.

But why is he in here. He doesn't remember drinking last night and that's the only way he could have possibly slept with his husband. Gods what a sad thought indeed. He decides to just ask the Black-haired Prince, not caring to delve into his memories to try piece together what happened. He thinks briefly about donning more clothes than his current boxers but his room is far and the house is warm, and mostly he just can’t muster up the energy. 

He finds the prince at the kitchen counter typing furiously on his laptop. He takes a single moment to observe the scene. Percy's mussed curls and thin wire framed glasses pushed up his nose. A coffee cup, still steaming sits to his right, and a board of cheese and the bread he had baked is layed out on the other side.

"I can't be that pretty to look at, I haven't even brushed my hair yet." Percy says without looking up.

"Sorry," He's glad the Prince doesn't take his eyes away from the screen because Jason's cheeks are bright red.

He moves to grab some coffee and sits down on the opposite side of the table.

"So uh—" He rubs the back of his neck, "Why was I sleeping in your room."

"Oh," Percy starts, finally looking up. Those green eyes widen as big as saucers as he takes the golden prince in.

"What?" Jason panics, "We didn't do anything did we?"

His husband snorts, "Trust me. If we fuck, you'll remember."

He is ready with a snarky reply but the prince continues, "No you were sleeping in the lounge but the fire was still on and it just seemed like a recipe for disaster. I tried to take you to your room but you said it was cold so I put you in mine because it gets sun for most of the day."

Jason is taken aback. That's sweet... surprisingly sweet.

"Thank you."Percy shrugs and goes back to typing on his laptop. He doesn't know what he should do. They seem to have entered into some sort of civil conversation and he doesn't want to ruin the shred of normality.

So he downs the rest of his coffee, chucks the mug in the sink and disappears into his bedroom. Minutes later he comes out more clothed, jeans hugging his legs and a blue sweater that feels like getting a hug from a panda. If getting a hug from such an animal was warm and soft and cuddly. He wouldn't know.

"I'm going for a walk."

His husband just nods, motioning to the cabin keys distractedly. Jason, fortunately, picks up on the meaning and grabs them, tucking the set into his coat.

This is the first time since they had driven here three days ago that he's stepping outside. Dusk is just starting to settle and the world is awash in oranges and pinks and the faintest strokes of purple. He wants to live in these colours, wants to paint them across his eyes so he always sees the world in their shades. A little sparrow flies down and lands on a branch hanging just over his head. It chirps as he walks past, flurrying it's tail as if to say hello. And then it spreads its wings and soars into the open plains, into those bleeding colours.

He remembers suddenly, a story his nanny had told him.

Why Miss Rosie, does the sky change colours?

Because Little Prince, when artists die they say goodbye by giving us a final painting.

Does that mean when the clouds change shapes sculptors are saying goodbye?

Miss Rosiland Krynn had smiled at those big blue eyes and nodded.

What happens when the artist can't paint or draw or sculpt what about then?

Well when you hear the sounds of wind chimes tinkling in the garden, or the sounds of streams bubbling in the woods, or the whistle of birds as they wake up then you're hearing all the singers who can no longer sing on earth.

And what about the actors?

When you hear someone crying, or lots of people laughing, or when you can feel someone watching over you those are the actors. They're their to bring joy into the world through all the people still here.

And the dancers Miss Rosie?

Have you ever seen flowers in the breeze?

He nodded his head, clutching at her fingers in anticipation.

And have you ever seen reeds in the river?

He nodded again, practically bouncing in excitement.

And what do they look like they're doing?

Dancing Miss Rosie! He had squealed, falling back into the couch as he thought about all she had said.

Jason smiles fondly at those memories, at a time much simpler than this. Where the sky was a canvas and music was stored in the wind. He can almost believe Miss Rosalind as he surveys his surroundings. There is something magical about this place. Like no matter what's going on in the world, this will never be touched by it. He can't help but run his fingers along the bark of a willow tree and sink his feet into the lush grass under it. At least out here he doesn't have to be anyone but Jason Grace. The marigolds dancing in the evening breeze do not care that he is Crown Prince of Caelum. And the blades of grass that hold his weight don't mind that he is human, that he has to function, even when it's inconvenient, inconceivable. Best of all, nothing around here cares that he's anything at all. If he gives his name to the river bed they will tuck it in and let it rest.

So he sits under the willow tree, letting his name drift down the stream, and spins fantasies of a life long lost.

When he makes his way back to the cabin, hours later, he's almost convinced himself that the world has stopped. And he is nothing but a vessel, strong enough to bend time.

It is like a bucket of lava on his skin, then, when Percy meets him at the door and drops the words he doesn't want to hear.

"We leave tomorrow. There was a shootout at your castle."

Jason Grace falls to his knees, and holds down the bile in his throat, as molten eyes and burning hands flash in his mind.

I'm coming for you Leo.