"Leo, reduce the thrusters, we'll go over the Atlantic at this speed!" Tony screeched above the screaming winds.
The clouds swirled ferociously around Festus as they shot high into the late afternoon sky. Long Island was no longer visible to the naked eye and the state of New York itself was almost a distant memory. They ascended above the clouds, the sunlight shone brilliantly, casting a blinding light off of Festus into Tony's eyes.
"I'm only at 13%," Leo replied, his voice shrill and distant.
"Reduce to 10%," Tony tightened his grip on Festus and extended his arm toward the control panel. With immense force against wind, his fingers pushed down a lever and the entire acceleration slowed to a reasonable pace.
Leo slumped in his seat and shook his head wildly.
"That was insane!" he exclaimed.
Tony blinked repeatedly, sunspots dancing in his eyes.
"Yeah, insane, right," he agreed. He looked over the side of Festus. Below them were cars, farms and countryside whizzing past them.
"Woah, how far did we go?" Tony readjusted in his seat, pushing a few buttons into the panel.
"According to the GPS, we are somewhere above Massachusetts, heading northeast," Leo read off matter-o-factly. "Do you need to do anything back at camp, or do you want to continue our joyride?"
"Let's see what he's got," Tony spoke challengingly. He scanned the horizon, whips of clouds obscured sections of sky as the afternoon light grew dimmer. "Just mind the clouds, some of them look dodgy."
"Avoid dodgy clouds, roger that," Leo cracked a smile. Tony winced a little with pity; he and Leo didn't see eye to eye with everything, but they shared common knowledge on a few things. Pain was one of them; both of them had rocky living situations growing up which resulted in building a wall. Tony recognized in Leo the same walls that Tony had built for himself, walls of humour and confidence that masqueraded a broken individual. Tony pondered what Leo was truly like when no one was watching, did the smile disappear, or was his facade as much a part of him as Tony's attitude had manifested into his own personality.
He shoved the thoughts aside and tapped on his watch and called for the Iron Man suit. Within a few seconds, the metal pieces adorned Tony's body, snapping into place.
"I'll fly beside him, see that everything is okay on the body," Tony relayed, edging himself to the edge of the dragon.
"I'll be here for when you realize that dragon riding is much cooler than human suits," Leo teased.
Tony smirked at Leo and clasped his shoulder.
"You're alright Leo," he decided as he sprang off the dragon and into the open air.
"Would you desist with the blank stare?" Rachel snapped at Bucky, who was currently lost in his own realities.
Bucky shook his head and reconnected to the present, looking dazed up at Rachel who was standing over him with a disapproving frown stretched across her freckled face.
"Why do I even bother trying with you," she sighed, sliding a new slide onto the projector.
Bucky side-eyed Steve who was clearly struggling to stay awake as well.
Rachel had volunteered to teach the boys a little history when they got to Camp-Half Blood. Between saving the world numerous times and trying to rebuild their lives, Bucky and Steve were rather left in the dust when it came to recent history. After 1944, the only memories that filled Bucky's mind were the description of things he'd much rather forget.
"We're sorry Rachel," Bucky said dryly. "But I don't think that Postmodernism art is a major event in recent history that Steve and I need to be educated on."
Rachel looked physically hurt when those words made contact. She bit back her lip and stiffened herself, and unless his eyes deceived him, Bucky noticed she may be counting to herself.
"Okay, fair enough. Shall we move onto the Cold War in the 1980's," Rachel agreed, filing through a few slides and snatching a fresh one.
"Is this really all we did?" Bucky asked concerned.
Rachel observed him inquisitively. "Is what all we did?"
"Fight," he stated. "All we've learned about is how people fought for rights, fought each other, fought the government, governments fighting themselves. What's the point of it all?"
Rachel, who was usually quick to respond, chewed on her response.
"I don't know, " she confessed. She reached for the switch and flicked it off, the room became dark. Rachel walked over to the wall and turned on the lights, causing Steve to shoot up, blinking rapidly.
"Let's call it a day," Rachel decided, cleaning up her slides and shoving them into her denim bag. "Maybe we will continue when you two actually feel like learning." She opened the door of the Arts and Crafts building and briskly walked down the steps.
Steve's face twisted in confusion and leaned over to whisper to Bucky.
"Was it something I said?"
Bucky shook his head and stood up.
"No, I think it's something we didn't say," he concluded, heading towards the door. "I'll catch up with you later Steve."
"Alright, don't do anything stupid," Steve called in response.
Bucky turned his head around and smirked.
"Don't go using my lines against me," he teased warmly.
Steve let the cocky smile linger on his face until Bucky exited the building.
The evening air was cool and refreshing, the smell of warm earth filled Bucky's lungs. Campers were rushing about, some practiced swordsmanship while others sat on benches and tufts of grass, enjoying each other's company. Bucky searched the main area of camp for the redhead. He caught a glimpse of her fiery hair which was moving rapidly towards the back of camp.
"Rachel, wait," Bucky attempted to call but the noise of camp drowned any attempt he made. He hastened across the camp, weaving through campers as he pursued her. He made it to the edge of the amphitheatre where he saw her sitting at the edge of the stage. She sat with her legs cross, staring blankly at the ground.
"Rachel," Bucky said calmly. "I'm sorry if we upset you, it's just that it's a lot to take in."
Silence for a moment, but out came a faint response.
"I know."
Bucky strode down the amphitheater steps and walked over to her. He hoisted himself up next to her, keeping the space between them about an arm length.
"So, why the melodramatics?"
Rachel lifted her head and pulled in her legs so she could rest her head on her knees. Her curly hair cascaded down her back and blew gently in the evening breeze. Her face was solemn and serious, set in stone with deep thought.
"Because you were right," she spoke softly, keeping her gaze fixed on the ground. "All we do is fight, and we all know it. Nothing changes, nothing improves. Everyone and everything is lost to some fight, weather it was noble or not. I would hardly consider this to be melodramatic."
Bucky frowned. He had meant what he had said, he didn't like the endless circle of violence and the endless quest for peace which he knew always ended in a war; however the weight of his words he neglected to realize could be influential on others.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Rachel blinked.
"What?"
"Thank you," Bucky repeated. "for teaching us. For trying to help us get back to normal; it's a job that may be too big to accomplish; even for an oracle."
Rachel smiled a little. "The challenge isn't giving the lesson, it's making sure it sticks into those dinosaur brains of yours."
"Well a fossilized mind is awful good at preserving ideas," Bucky remarked.
"I don't know about that," Rachel challenged. She turned to him and slammed her hand on the stage. "Name the four Beatles."
"Paul McCartney, John Lennon, Ringo Starr, George Harrison."
"Who was the first man on the moon?"
"Neil Armstrong, July 16, 1969."
Rachel leaned back, satisfied with the responses.
"Not bad, Barnes."
"Well taught, Dare." Bucky said mockingly.
"Bucky! Bucky!" A shout in the distance grew at a rapid pace, streaming towards camp. Within seconds, Steve appeared at the top of the amphitheater in a state of concern mixed with horror.
"Steve?" Bucky asked, jumping off the stage and bounding up the steps.
"It's Tony and Leo," Steve breathed, he looked pale and shaken.
"Whoa, whoa, okay, Steve take a moment," Bucky instructed, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and guiding him towards the ground. "What's going on?"
Steve composed himself and then lifted a piece of paper to Bucky. On the paper was an inscription read " ... - ..." .
"Stark!" Leo frantically screamed as he punched the controls. The dragon was falling, rather, being dragged towards the surface at an alarming rate.
"Leo, I can't get to you!" Tony replied, his radio screeched feedback and then cut out completely. Between the spins, Leo could see Stark being pulled to the earth too. Both of them were helpless.
"No response from any controls, radio communications are down, what the heck is going on?!" Leo shrieked. Just moments before, Tony and Leo had been flying peacefully though the twilight sky, then a magnetic force latched onto both Festus and Tony's suit and now they were plummeting towards the earth. From what Leo had gathered between grasping onto Festus for his life and maintaining an eye on Stark, the force was magical. No magnet on earth was strong enough to bring down a metal dragon from several miles above land.
"Have...to...call..." Leo fought unconsciousness as the g-force grew rapidly. He struggled to connect his fingers to the dragon's controls. He managed to flip down a small lid which inside contained a simple device which Leo had installed as a last resource; something he hoped would be useful.
Winds tore against him as he corkscrewed towards the earth, a brief glance told Leo he had about fifteen seconds to impact. He tapped on the device three short times, three long times and again three short times. The international Morse code for S.O.S.
Leo slammed his eyes shut and the g-force took control him, rendering him unconscious as they crashed into the earth below.
