ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ [ᴶᵃˢᵒⁿ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ]

vi.

"Jason's gonna be okay, Leo," Aza crouched in front of the curly-haired boy, placing a hand on his knee - the boy looked up at her with teary eyes, and he hastily wiped at them with the back of his hand, "I've cleaned the wound and gave him some ambrosia - he just needs to rest," the dark-haired girl spared a quick look at her best friend, who nodded and urged her to continue, "Leo, I - I don't want to make it seem like we're blaming you, but, uh... what in Hades happened?"

Leo slumped, burying his head in his hands as if looking at the ship was too painful - the Argo II was in shambles. Their crossbows had been reduced to firewood kindling; their main sail was in tatters, and they had lost internet and cable (Aza had to prevent Gleeson from beating the son of Hephaestus with his baseball bat).

The curly-haired boy's voice came out as a choked sob, "I don't know - it's fuzzy." He peeked at the taller girl from between his fingers, sniffling when he saw her furrowed brows and thin, pressed lips. Aza sighed, ruffling the boy's hair and doing her best to channel a soothing, calm voice, "We're not mad - we just need to understand."

Aza glanced up at Annabeth, who crossed her arms. The girl stared back at her with stormy eyes - the same way they always looked when she tried to solve a problem. The daughter of Athena turned back to Leo and leaned closer, "You mean you don't remember?"

"I- I remember, but it's like I was watching myself do things. I couldn't control it." Aza frowned, glancing back at Annabeth, who's eyes darkened. She could tell the girl was thinking about the Crooked One. The curly-haired blonde tilted her head, shrugging so subtly that only Aza could tell. Her eyes briefly darted over towards Gleeson, and Aza nodded, turning to the satyr, "Hey, Gleeson, can you do me a favor and check up on Jason?"

"Eh?" The satyr looked up, furrowing his brows. He scratched the base of the horn, "I thought Cupcake was looking over him." For a moment, Aza wanted to point out to the satyr that he called everyone Cupcake, so she had no idea who he was talking about. She thought for a moment, looking around the ship and feeling silly when she had forgotten Piper was watching over the blonde.

"Why don't you check on both of them," Annabeth's tone made it clear that there was no room for argument, and Gleeson trudged off below deck, muttering under his breath. Annabeth walked to stand beside Aza, and she leaned in closely, covering the three in a bubble of privacy, "Leo, did Octavian trick you somehow? Did he frame you, or-"

"No," Leo leaned back, his voice raising slightly, "The guy was a jerk, but he didn't fire on the camp. I did."

"On purpose?" Frank asked, leaning around the mast to look at the three. Aza scowled at him, her eye twitching slightly. As her lip curled in distaste, the younger boy averted his gaze, shuffling his feet slightly and staring at the deck. Leo buried his face in his hands again, "No! Well, yes... I mean, I didn't want to. But at the same time, I felt like I wanted to. Something was making me do it. There was this cold feeling inside me-"

"A cold feeling," Annabeth echoed, and she turned her head slightly to glance at Aza in the corner of her eye. The daughter of Phobos shivered, the ghost of a cold breath on the back of her neck. She could still hear the voice of the Crooked One in her ear - a silky, powerful voice promising her a new world, one where no demigod would ever feel the same way she had. Annabeth placed a hand on Aza's shoulder, as if she knew what her best friend was thinking just as Percy's voice called from below deck, "Annabeth, we need you."

Aza bit her lip, turning fully to look at the curly-haired blonde. She had a feeling Percy didn't want her to see Jason until he was okay - after Michael died, her best friend blamed himself. No matter how much Aza assured him that neither Michael nor her blamed him, and that Michael knew he was sacrificing his life, Percy said he would never forget the look on her face when he told her. He didn't want her to worry about losing yet another.