Leo jumps at the sound of his name being called, making an embarrassing noise he'll deny to his last breath. "What the—"

It's Frank, yawning and stretching. His stupid, borrowed clothes from Jason and Percy seem like they're going to rip any second. His hair is sticking out as much as an almost-buzz-cut can. Still, he's looking at Leo like a man with a plan.

Well, it's always best to head up these conversations. "Frank? Wassup, my man?"

"You know it's four am, right?"

He didn't, actually. "Yeah, so? You should be asleep, dude."

Frank scoffs. "I should be asleep?"

"Um, yeah, that's what I just said? Do you need like, celestial bronze hearing aids? 'Cause I can make those, if you want—"

"Leo! Pull over or something. Let me drive for a while."

"Pull over? Drive? It's a ship, not some freaky, rusted up monster that's thirty years older than either of us!"

"Oh my gods," Frank complains out loud, running his hands over his face. "Does it matter?"

"Yes! This is my baby, my life, and I can't just let you take over if you don't understand the intricacies of—"

Frank tugs on his arms, and after a brief tussle, Frank ends up at the wheel. "I'm a descendent of Poseidon, right? It'll be fine. Go to bed."

Leo wants to fight it, wants to take back the wheel by any means necessary. But suddenly his limbs feel heavy, and he thinks, how long have I been up? At least forty-eight hours.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."