A/N: Thanks to purple hippocampus for giving me the idea for this fic. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own PJatO.
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Peace and quiet.
Peace and quiet isn't something you hear often at Camp Half-blood, and you decide to savor it as you lay on your bunk in the usually crowded Hermes cabin. Your siblings are already asleep around you, though it's only about 7:00. The cabin hasn't been too crowded now, you think. Not after the war.
The war took its toll.
You've only been a camper for about two years. Short enough to be "new" but long enough to know how hectic the cabin was before Gaea. It was always busy, bustling, and full of lively arguing, even at night.
Now it's almost silent.
You stop and think about all the campers that didn't make it. All the satyrs and naiads and dryads that were lost. All your friends that died. All your siblings – your brothers and sisters – that were killed in the War, not six months ago.
A cold knot forms in your stomach. You get up, rubbing your face as images of all the dead pass through your head. You carefully slip your shoes on, grab your weapon, and tiptoe toward the door, even though it's almost time for the maintenance harpies to come out. You step outside the cabin and take a breath.
The air still smells of smoke.
You walk along the row of cabins, trying to stay in the shadows. After a while, you come to a halt at the edge of the lake. You stare at the sunset reflecting on the water, squinting slightly at the bright light as the sun dipped further into the water.
Suddenly you notice something: the sun is growing a tail. You squint even more, trying to identify the sun's new "limb". Then the tail grows into, and you manage to make out wings, as the real tail of the figure emerges behind it as it detaches from the sun. You stare in awe; the figure is a golden dragon. Light bounces off of it in leaps and bounds as the dragon comes steadily closer. It swoops down out of the sky, and you can hear a faint screeching sound, like people screaming.
You back away, your eyes beginning to bug. As the dragon skims across the water toward you, you can faintly see huge knife-like teeth, glowing eyes, and massive, scythe-like claws, all made out of fiery golden bronze.
You turn tail and run.
You flee for your life toward the cabins, heart racing. As your near the camp dwellings, you start to yell at the top of your lungs.
"WAKE UP! THE MOTHER OF DRAGONS HAS JUST ARRIVED! WAKE UP!"
At your call, campers stumble out of their cabins, dragging siblings behind them and donning their swords, knives and bows. Chiron himself clops out of the Big House as you screech to halt, hair curlers and all, his bow in his hand and his quiver on his back. He glances at you, and asks sharply:
"What is it!"
You pant like a racehorse from your flight, your rush of adrenaline gone. You point back toward the lake, and suck in more oxygen.
"There's a—"
And then the ground shakes.
A cloud of dirt flies into the air, visible even from where you stand. You and Chiron exchange looks, and then you both take off for the lake as you ready your weapon. The other campers have already charged. Percy Jackson, you believe, in the lead.
You fall behind Chiron, and end up being the last person at the scene. You start to run faster, but come to a halt. The entire camp is standing still, staring at the fallen dragon. After standing for almost five minutes, your ADHD takes over, and you shove your way to the front, ducking and dodging random knives and such. You break through to the front and stop, staring at the smoking beast in front of you, it's glowing eyes flickering, and it's jaw slack. And then you recognize it.
The dragon isn't just any dragon.
It's Festus, the mechanical dragon, owned by…
Before you can dare finish the thought, a cough is heard from the wreckage, and a piece of metal is pushed away from the bronze body, revealing a peanut butter colored hand covered in soot.
The campers go completely nuts.
Around you, people are scrambling over one another and barking random orders to random people.
"There's a survivor!"
"Grab some ambrosia!"
"Who is it?!"
"Is he alright?!"
"Oh my gods…" you heard Percy yell. "It's him!" Percy faltered. "And her."
You struggle out of the mob and stand on tiptoe to see who it is. Then you freeze and gape.
It's Leo Valdez.
You didn't personally know him, but the kid had "trained" the metal dragon, so it kind of got him a good deal of camp fame. He was smart, you gave him that, and being fire-resistant was petty cool, too, to say the least. During the war with Gaea, the teenager had managed to kill the crazy female Titan, but had supposedly died in the action. The other six Heroes had been devastated, you remember. Even you, though you hadn't known him very well, missed him, in a way. He had always been making jokes and helping lighten the darkening mood before the war. When Leo had died, everyone felt it.
Apparently Hades is feeling generous.
Now the Hephaestus child stumbles out of the wreckage, covered in soot and scratches, but grinning like a happy dog. Behind him, gripping his left hand in a vice-like grip, is a girl you've never seen before. She is beautiful, to say the least, even when her clothes are torn, her hair is windblown, and looks like she rolled in a fire pit.
You watch in shock as Leo leads the girl away from the wreckage. He stops at the mangled head of the dragon and pats it sadly. He whispers something to it, then turns toward you and the crowd. There is dead silence.
Then he flashes a peace sign with a weary smile.
"Leo McShizzle Valdez…" he says. "…is back in the house."
The crowd cheers, and you grin and pump the air with your fist. Some campers throw their hats in the air, and piercing whistles ring out. The cheering keeps going, and you grin and look at the darkening sky as the reborn demigod sent a flash of celebratory fire into the air.
As the cheering goes on and the soot covered pair is led back to camp, you recall something Leo once said:
"I'm all about all about the impossible!"
You look at the metal dragon carcass, and the once dead demigod, back with an apparent girlfriend, and you chuckle.
When Leo said "impossible", he meant it.
THE END