Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson or the Heroes of Olympus. I don't even own the OCs, since there are none.

Brave at Heart

The wood was in flames. The lake was smoking, suffocating the demigods who were trying to cross it. Its waters bubbled and swirled, turning their boats upside down and sending them spiraling downwards, arms and legs flailing. For a moment, Hazel's face was framed by the wood fire, contorted in horror, her mouth agape in a silent shriek of agony while the lake claimed her. Bobby leaned overboard and desperately tried to pull her back, but an arrow from the army of monsters from the beach shook the boat and sent him flying overboard. Now, he started screaming too. It was not clear where they both would die from drowning, or the sheer heat of the water.

On dry land, Jason was fighting a Titan – and it wasn't going well. All around him, campers did their best to reach Mount Othrys but, unfortunately, their best was not good enough. Hordes of snake monsters resisted them easily, as if they were just human-sized toys. They ran them over by sheer numbers and left bloody paths through their ranks. Whoever escaped the monsters' swords just met the sharp crests of the mountain that was not Mount Tam. It wasn't cool and breezy as could be expected; it was flaming hot and deadly steep. Whoever reached the foot of the crests just fell down since they had nothing to cling to in their fall. They just flew down, in the flames of the forests, to their deaths.

It was hopeless. Still, while they had their heads still attached to their shoulders, while Jason lived – all was not lost. But did Jason live? He was gradually but inevitably losing to the Titan. He finally fell, his face very calm, next to Reyna who looked as if she were asleep… if she could be asleep staring wide-eyed at the blazing sun.

Dakota Spears woke with a gasp. His head was throbbing, his body limp, a soundless scream echoing in his ears. He drew a shaking hand across his face and tried to pull himself together. The other campers did not need to see the son of Mars this scared.

Not that he was scared, of course. But a wise commander should always be careful and Dakota was Jason's second in-command. Only a fool would not be overly cautious when it came to Titans. Saturn had proven to be more than a dangerous enemy.

As soon as he was able to make his legs obey his brains, he left the Mars cabin and went to the lake. There, he splashed water on his face and tried to chase the remnants of the dream off. They would not lose. They could not. The fate of the world lay on their shoulders. They should not make a mull of it.

He needed to drive the not-fear away if he wanted to be effective in the battle tomorrow. Yet it was so hard to keep his head when his friends' bloodied faces were still swimming in his mind, when he was faced with the reality of their side losing. His personal bravery and fighting skills might make no difference…

"Phoebetor," he muttered. "If I can only lay my hands on you…"

He was sure that the god of nightmares, a traitor of Olympus, had something to do with this dream meant to torture him and affect his cool head and thus, his battle abilities.

"Are you okay?"

He jumped up and turned, unsheathing his sword in a motion. The blade passed only inches away from Hazel's head. He quickly sheathed it. "Sorry," he murmured. "I didn't hear you and I just…" He shrugged helplessly.

"It's okay."

It wasn't okay. Not hearing someone approaching? Too bad for a battle commander. Hazel probably hadn't even tried to walk silently and he still hadn't heard her. Not auspicious for the coming battle.

Hazel sat next to him.

"Are you okay?" she asked again.

"Fine," he said. Inwardly, he hoped he didn't look as he felt. She did not need to see the son of the war god trembling like a child terrified by a nightmare.

She nodded as if she hadn't noticed a thing. For a while, they both stared at the lake made silver by the moon shine.

"Tomorrow is the day," Dakota finally said. "Are you sure you're ready for this? I mean, someone has to stay and protect camp…"

"Stop it," she said sharply and he did. Hazel Valentine could be very touchy when it came to her fighting abilities. True, the Venus children were not expected to be the best fighters anyway but she had a disadvantage even over her siblings. She was as gorgeous as they came, but maybe due to some tragic mistake at her birth, she did not have a left hand; her left arm ended with a formless lump of flesh just below the wrist where her palm and fingers should have been. A deformed demigod was something unusual and a deformed Venus child was virtually unheard of. It must have been the doctors' fault. There was no other explanation. Still, Hazel had ended a pup and not food but that gave no guarantees that she'd survive in an actual battle. She was small and thin, a good archer and not a bad swordmaster but she could be no match for a monster and even less for a Titan. Dakota did not want to bring her into battle. She had a spirit but the sheer truth of the matter was that spirit was not enough. There was a certain physical stamina required.

Hazel could guess what he thought about. She could not stay idle and let the world go crumbling down or her friends die without doing her best to help but neither could she blame Dakota for his concern. His protective instincts ran deep – Romans took care of their own, especially those who could not take care of themselves. She reached out with her good hand and gave his hand a squeeze. He returned it with more strength that he probably realized, but that did not make her feel weak. It just made her feel protected and comforted and although he'd never admit to such a weakness, Hazel was pretty sure that he felt comforted and reassured, too. Her face cleared and she almost smiled.

"Don't worry, Dakota. I'm ready."

The next day…

Dakota had seen the remnants of Mount Tam before – but now they just weren't remnants. Now, he was leading his legion – his friends, kids that he had grown up with – into a battle on the enemy ground. Unknown ground that they had no way of knowing. Out of all their spies that had been sent here, only two had returned and they were of no use – they would never be fully there.

Dakota mentally cursed himself at the realization that he had started perceiving his friends only by the use they were of him. War was supposed to be about something else – proving that you were the fast, fiercest, best warrior… well, now he had the chance to actually do something in this regard. Only, it was by no means a fair fight – the Titans were too strong, and the monsters – just too many.

Not that it bothered Dakota – he loved finding himself just in situation like this. The problem was, it was not just him in the situation – it was his friends dying in the frontline and the whole bloody world on the stake!

Another hiss from the snake monsters. Another body falling from the cliff to its death. Mark. Dakota gritted his teeth. "Cover me," he told Gwendolyn and took to climbing himself under the protective flight of the arrows. Without looking downward, he could say that at least some of the Apollo's kids had joined in – the arrows never missed. Around him, a group of his soldiers followed his example.

A blue giant loomed over him. Without hesitation, Dakota let his left hand off the rope and fumbled for his gladius, the sword long ago adopted by the Romans. He threw the weapon upwards and heard the horrible clinking sound when it ripped the blue head open. The sword – a blade that never missed (thanks to him, not to some mystical powers), a present from his father, the god of war –flew back to Dakota's hand and this time, he did not let it go even while he was climbing, grasping the rope.

A new danger – a snake woman. A new arrow, and she fell, brushing Dakota in the way and almost taking him down with her. He heard someone gasp as they thought he'd fall and then exclaim, "Holy Jupiter!" He was not sure, but is sounded a lot like Reyna's voice.

Here! Finally, he was only inches away from the peak. Without thinking what might await him at the other side, Dakota topped the ridge and immediately jumped to his feet, his sword ready for battle – a good thinking of his part, because he was immediately attacked by a monster with a humanoid body in black armour and a face that was a mix of at least three animals that Dakota didn't have time to identify right now. He just threw the sword at it without waiting for it to come near.

"Centurion!" someone yelled and Dakota turned just as the monster disintegrated and the sword flew back in his hand. About a dozen of his comrades had negotiated the terrain and now stood on his left, waiting for instructions. Dakota looked around at the army of monsters charging towards them and realized they had little to no chance to repel them. Yet, they had to hold them at bay, to buy time for the others to climb the cliff without being attacked from above.

"Disperse!" he yelled and his soldiers did just that, forming a semi-circle with him in the middle. "We've got to hold them until the others can join us."

He didn't say that there might well be no one left for the others to join when they finally reached the peak, but they knew. And they did not draw back.

"For Rome!" Dakota yelled and charged the nearest monster.

It was so, so hard to stay here and wait for the enemy to come when everything in him screamed murder. He wanted to charge, to cut a bloody path through their ranks and he was pretty sure the other campers felt the same way. But if they did, there would be no one to guard the climbing demigods. So they stood and resisted, even while their friends fell and died in front of them.

"We're here!" a voice yelled, Reyna's, and Dakota grinned.

"You're welcome to join the fun," he yelled back and thought that everything was bound to be better now. The others would be here in a few minutes.

He had barely said it when Jerry, son of Minerva, one of the brightest boys ever having entered the Roman camp, fell to the ground and did not move, his armour squashing his ribs, literally, having been smashed by an enormous humanoid hand.

"Oh gods!" Dakota yelled and covered his eyes with his hand. He couldn't do anything. No one could. Jerry Rogers was no longer among them, but over the piece of the ridge he had been guarding other demigods emerged and charged the army of monsters with battle cries. Dakota took his hand off and noticed distractedly that it was wet – both by the tears that were blinding him and the blood that was flowing from the wound – or wounds, he was not quite sure – on his forehead.

An hour later…

The wood was burning. Hell, the lake was burning. Greek fire… Boats caught it… as well as the demigods inside. Just like in his dream. And worse.

The black palaces had their own sinister beauty. Not that Dakota had the time to appreciate it, but in the brief breaks between the skirmishes he could not help but notice it.

The fauns were heavily outnumbered. Nymphs cried out in horror when their trees caught fire. Demigods – dead and living – covered the ground. Dakota did not know which one were the majority; it was hard to tell.

In a way, he was having the time of his life, fighting his way through an enemy army; in another way, that was the most terrible day in his life, because up to that moment, he had seen four friends dead, as well as countless soldiers. In the distance, Jason was fighting an impressive figure with some kind of horns on his helmet and size that made Jason look rather toylike in comparison; near them, Reyna was fighting her own battle and Dakota thought, concerned, that if she kept going on like this, she'd find herself out of arrows quite soon.

"No!" he yelled when he saw her falling. Just like in his dream. And next to her Jason who was losing the battle, again like in the dream…

"You puny demigods!" someone roared next to him. Dakota did not lose time to answer – he was pretty sure it was the Titan Atlas and he was sure as well that the Titan lord posed no threat to them. He could only yell his meaningless insults and curses from under his burden. Dakota stumbled forward, trying to reach his friends, his mouth opened in a savage roar, but the world blurred and he fell. Lily White, daughter of Apollo, caught him before his head could hit the ground, held his left arm between her palms and started muttering a hymn, healing him.

"Just got the poison out, Lily," Dakota snapped and she nodded. They had no time for major healing. The Apollo children just dealt with the most severe wounds that infringed on the fighting abilities of the campers, leaving the rest for later. Assuming that there was later at all.

As if in a nightmare, the wall of the nearest palace fell down on dozen places, smashing the demigods that were nearby. Dakota and Lily both yelled, then she hurriedly finished the hymn off and they ran to help the survivors.

"Bobby," Dakota groaned and dropped to his knees in front of one of his closest friends.

Mercury's son stared at him with eyes dull by pain. The lower part of his body was smashed under a piece of debris that weighted like a mountain when Dakota, Lily and two others tried to take it off. They all shouted with the effort, but the sudden lightnings drowned their cries.

"There's no use," Bobby managed. "Go on."

"Man, we're not leaving you! We'll get you out," Dakota promised frantically, although how he could fulfil his promise, he had no idea.

In this moment, Hazel ran to them and crouched, throwing her gladius on ground.

"Don't!" Dakota warned but she ignored him. Her shield still tied to her bad hand, she started to push with the rest of them… and while they sweated and struggled uselessly, she lifted the rock as if it was a basket, and released Bobby.

"What in the world…" someone muttered and Bobby gasped in shock, seemingly forgotten to drag himself to his feet. In fact, there were now five demigods staring at Venus' daughter open-mouthed.

"What?" she snapped. "Are we fighting a battle or not?"

As quick as a thought, Dakota sprang to his feet and ran to meet the blue giant who was advancing at them from behind. Thank Mars these guys were as dumb as to announce their arrival with battle cries, or roars, or whatever!

Hours later…

"It's falling!" Hazel yelled. "Gods, it's actually falling!"

"We won," Bobby said, awe-struck. His voice was a mere whisper, as if he feared that if he voiced it too hard, the black palaces would start rebuilding themselves. Gwendolyn tucked her hand in his and rested her head against his shoulder.

Silently, they watched the black marble crumbling to pieces. That was it! The Titans were gone! The world was safe! They had won a great battle. They should be ecstatic and Dakota was… at least until he looked aside. No matter where he turned, he saw dead campers, dead friends. He covered his eyes with his hand and whispered, "If we are all safe, it was you guys who did it. Gods, what a price!"

Then, they hurried on in different directions to see who had survived. Dakota ran to where the greatest palace had stood. Now there were only ruins. And the throne. A black throne that was toppled, a black throne that had been meant for a certain Titan, he was sure of it.

"Saturn's throne," he muttered. "Who toppled it after all?"

"I lay claim to this honour," a familiar voice said and Dakota turned in a flash, not daring to believe…

"Jason!" he yelled beyond himself. "Jason!"

And here was Reyna, her shirt torn apart, her hair matted with sweat and blood. In fact, she was covered with blood almost everywhere, like the rest of them, and out of arrows. Out of a bow, actually, since it hung useless and broken in her hand; she had obviously used it for hitting when she could no longer use it for shooting.

"I saw it falling!" she said excitedly. "Holy Jupiter, I swear it was bound to this mountain. When it fell, everything just started… crumbling."

"Reyna!"

He grabbed her and swung her around. She stared at him wide-eyed, as if she thought he had gone mad. Reluctantly, he let her go, so he could hug Jason, too. Or at least try to.

Jason drove him back with his hand. "What's wrong with you? One would think you've given us up for dead. Not that we weren't close," he added honestly.

"You live." Dakota laughed and drank them in. "I'm happy that you live. That's all."

He knew his happiness would not last long – only until he looked around at all those who didn't live – but he decided to take whatever he could.

Many hours later…

Reyna's voice rose indignantly. One of the other demigods – Dakota couldn't quite recognize who – made an answer but Dakota had no doubt as to who would win this fight. Sure, a few minutes later Reyna entered the cabin that he was given as a centurion. They should salute each other in the usual fashion, but they didn't. They silently stared at each other. Usually, as of lately, they were overly formal with each other, since they were not sure what to do with the new feelings that had started building, but now, no one even thought of keeping ceremony. Not after everything that had happened.

"You should wash your hair," Dakota murmured absently from where he was sitting in his bed. "If you leave it dry up like this, it'll become matted and you'll have to cut it off."

Reyna automatically raised a hand to feel her long golden hair, dark and heavy with blood and mud. "I'll do it later," she said. "Not that you are the one to talk," she added, since he hadn't bothered to remove his battered armour or wash the blood from his face and hands.

He didn't even shrug.

"I was too tired," he admitted. He's been sitting like this for hours in some kind of stupor, not doing anything, not thinking about anything. He was terribly cold, but he lacked the willpower to drag himself to his feet and put something else on or even reach for the blanket and cover himself.

Reyna took a towel and a bowl of water and knelt in front of his bed. She deftly removed first his armour, his only contribution being moving his arms, and then his boots. Never saying a word, she washed the blood off him, frowning at his many wounds. She wanted to suggest healing them, but one look at his face told her otherwise. She climbed on the bed, sat with her back to the wall and drew him against her, covering them both with the blanket. He sighed softly and rested his head against her shoulder, too tired and discouraged to reject the comfort, even if it made him seem weak. "So, you can be not only an archer and a healer but a servant," he murmured.

"Rest," she answered and he did. For a few minutes, he actually fell asleep. And of course, he was plagued by a nightmare that soon sent him bolting upright, almost flying out of bed.

"Hush, hush, it's okay," Reyna whispered, holding him back. "Easy, easy."

He supposed that afterwards, he'd feel ashamed, but for now he only followed her words: he relaxed against her and closed his eyes. Only then did Reyna notice Jason standing at the cabin door. She wanted to say something, to give him some kind of salute, but he stopped her, shaking his head. He looked just as bad as the rest of them, pale, shaken and devastated by the losses they'd suffered. Whatever he wanted to tell her could wait. He caught her eye and looked pointedly at their friend who had no idea of his presence. Reyna understood: they all had work to do and for now, hers was looking after Dakota. Out of all of them, he was burdened with the heaviest responsibility: he had given the order to reach the ridge and defend it at great cost to the campers. True, it had been necessary but it was a burden anyway and it showed. In truth, she was pretty scared to see him like that. He'd been so strong and competent and now he looked barely able to function. Unwittingly, she held him tighter, as if to soothe them both, then looked at Jason and nodded that she had got the message. He nodded back and left.

A few minutes later, Dakota stirred again. "Do you need something?" Reyna asked.

He didn't answer immediately and when he did, it was a mere whisper. "It hurts, Reyna."

He might be speaking for any of the many wounds that had adorned him since this morning and she could heal them in a flash, although that would probably knock her unconscious. Instead, Reyna placed her hand to his left breast, felt the steady beating under her palm where the skin was intact. "I know," she said.

Without turning to look at her, he placed his fingers over hers. He felt very close to her. "We are quite strange, you know," he said and she felt a wave of relief washing over her: that was one of the few coherent sentences that he had formed since her arrival. "Do you think it's only our weakness that unites us?"

She shook her head against his hair. "No, not our weakness but our trust. We show our weakness only to those who we believe would understand us and accept us in spite of it. After all these years, you know me as I truly am." She made a pause. "And I know you."

They didn't press the matter further. They were just too beaten down and honestly, after the events of the day it seemed downright obscene to think about that.

"It hurts," he said again.

This time, Reyna didn't say anything. She just couldn't. It was as if his words had finally made it real for her. They had won the battle. They had saved the world. She felt her throat constricting and she pressed her face to his back, squeezing him hard. Without hesitation, he turned into her embrace and squeezed back, almost crushing them both, but in a good way. They stayed like this, clinging to each other, and they finally wept for all those who had perished.