Did You Know Him?
Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns the Camp Half-Blood series.
AN: Can you guys help me? I feel like my stories are rushed, but I don't get how I can fix it. Advice would be appreciated! :D
Leo Valdez was feeling like the odd one out again.
Seven half-bloods shall answer the call, he thought. Couldn't the Fates have picked a better number, like eight? Seriously, he didn't need a romance. Just someone to talk to while everyone else was making out or being cuddly or something.
He headed to the kitchen area he'd happily drawn in on the plans. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich was as good a friend as any, he decided. He pushed open the door-
-and stopped at the sound of someone crying.
"Hazel?" he asked incredulously, and she jumped. She'd always had the jitters when he walked into the room, he noticed. She was sitting on one of the stools in front of the counter. "It's something about me, isn't it? Am I that ugly?" he joked weakly, but it only made it worse. Hazel started crying again, but he didn't understand.
"Sammy Valdez…did you know him?" she asked Leo in a watery voice, and Leo frowned and sat next to her on a stool.
"…he-he was my great-granddad. Died a long time ago. Why? Did YOU know him?" It might have been another weak joke. But with all the crazy stuff that had happened in his life so far, Leo was starting to think that anything could happen (and most of it wasn't good stuff).
He was still surprised when Hazel nodded.
He listened as she described her life-her first life, Leo corrected himself-how she had almost dated Sammy, how she had died, how Nico had brought her back, and how Leo looked just like him.
Suddenly Leo wasn't so proud of his "stunning good looks".
"Why would they do this to me?" Hazel sobbed. Then she stopped. "And why am I doing this to you? It-It wasn't your fault that you have his face…" She buried her head in her hands.
"Hey," said Leo, patting her on the back softly. "Bisabuelo* loved you. My mami told me a story one day, when I was, I dunno, five. It was about a beautiful girl with curly black hair. She and Bisabuelo went riding one day, and she rode as fast as the wind." Leo was rambling now, but he remembered the day Esperanza had told him, sitting in front of the warm fireplace while little Leo played with a wire. "Her hair was streaming behind her, and she looked happier than Bisabuelo had ever seen her before. She looked like an angel, fallen from heaven. Bisabuelo was in love with her, and he kissed her. But he never saw her again." They were both crying now.
"Bisabuelo didn't know if she hated him, or if someone had known of their love and ripped them apart, but he never forgot her." Leo chocked, "Not even when he left New Orleans. He never…" And they cried.
Leo knew he had told the story terribly. Horribly, even. His mother had told it like you were supposed to tell a story-you describe everything and make it sound really exciting. Leo had focused on mostly the sad parts (he thought) and it still hadn't made Hazel stop crying.
Not-so-epic fail, Valdez, he sighed. But Hazel turned toward him and wiped away her tears.
"It still hurts," she murmured. "It still hurts a lot. But that helped a little." She couldn't smile. "Just a little. But thank you."
"You're welcome," he said quietly, and she left. Leo lit his hand on fire, and he heard a plank creak somewhere else in the room. "I helped her reconcile with my grandfather's memory, Frank," he shook his head softly at the silhouette in the corner, "I wasn't trying to make a move."
Head bowed in shame, the figure left.
"And it didn't even work," muttered Leo as the door swung shut for the second time.
He guessed it was time to start on that peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
*Bisabuelo = Greatgrandfather