Leo woke up in the engine room, feeling a little-okay, a lot sick.
"What the…?" he muttered to himself, his voice raspy and weak. He felt, like, really hot, and normally hot was good. But not when you know that Piper had a fever just a few days ago and you already feel sick as a dog.
Leo preferred not being sick for the quest.
...But when did the Fates ever listen to his pleas?
Trying to hoist himself up, the fire-summoner discovered that his muscles (not that he had many anyway) were taking the day off.
Great.
He flopped back down on his stomach with a kinda loud THUD and he was forced to accept his fate as a floor decoration.
Just as Leo was giving up on staying awake, in case his voice returned so he could call for help, Jason was apparently wondering why the Argo II was suspended in the air, and therefore not moving.
Luckily, Jason knew that Leo most often slept in the engine room, and sought him out there after a brief, fruitless visit to Repair Boy's room.
"Hey, Leo? Watcha dreamin' abou-" Jason, having just opened the door, froze as he spotted Leo from the doorway, still sprawled out on the hard floor.
Hardly conscious. Pale. Barely breathing.
The moment before Leo blacked out (now that someone had finally come to rescue him), he heard his best friend (and also rescuer) call out Piper's name in desperation and panic.
Read my mind, Sparky, Leo thought as he slipped into blissful darkness.