To RandomFanAuthor- um, noooo, not British demigods, more re-occurring characters from old stuff! In answer to your question on the one-shots, Lizzie is Jessica's biological daughter- she had her at fifteen and her mother took her away, didn't even get to hold her or anything. Louisa reunited them, but I never finished that story either!

Their first step in England landed them in the cold, grey waters of Bognor Regis in the dead of night. Festus decided to plummet twenty feet from the shore, straight into the sea. The cold shocked them to the core, even Leo, the walking super-heater. Louisa twisted and spread her hands, propelling them onto the pebbles with much bumps and bruises. Leo groaned, face down. Festus cried out, sending a torrent of fire skyward in panic. Calypso curled up and shivered.

"Hold on, hold on." Louisa grumbled, struggling to her feet. With another wave of her hands, the dragon was pulled ashore too. "Idiot." She chided, kicking his shoulder and willing water from his systems. "What now?"

"I don't know." Calypso said between chattering teeth. "Somewhere warm, please."

"I'm warm." Leo managed, rolling onto his side. He sat up, wincing at various aches and pains. Louisa flicked her fingers again and they were all dry. Leo set himself ablaze and the girls scooted closer. "We need somewhere to bunk down. I'll patch Festus up as best I can, but we need some way of finding your friends, Lou."

"I can cause trouble. That always gets someone's attention."

"It is too late for you to cause trouble." Leo aimed a warning finger at her. "Let's just see where we can crash 'til morning."

"What 'bout Festus? Pretty sure we can't walk a dragon around, even if it is late."

"Suitcase?" Leo shrugged a shoulder. Festus whined and torched some rocks. "I know, I know, but it's our best bet, bud. Come here. No, come here. Joder." He muttered, Festus creaking and cackling gleefully as he ran down the beach, wings dragging on the stones. "Little help?"

"Told ya to let me drown him."

"You can't drown an automaton!"

"Just watch me!"

Festus-the-suitcase was impossible to drag on the cascade of pebbles. Louisa lifted him on a bubble of water, walking a little behind the other two, the bubble tailing along behind her. The beach was overlooked by a small town, mostly dark save the street lights. It took some considerable effort to work their way to flat land, slipping on the stones in the dark, a daring seagull nearly taking Leo's head off.

They found a podium at the start of the high street, detailing a map of the town and surrounding areas. Leo set his hand alight to read it.

"What's… Butlins?" Calypso frowned.

"Dunno, but it's over there." Leo waved vaguely to their right. "Looks like there's a train station further along the street."

"It's, like, one in the mornin'. I'd doubt they'd have any trains goin'."

"Plus we don't know where we're supposed to be going. Also…" Calypso hesitated. "What's a train?"

"Very fast. Lots of people. Goes choo choo."

"Does not go-" Leo exasperated wordlessly, flames sputtering. Louisa snickered and he frowned, debating whether to torch her hair. "Steam trains were more choo choo than modern trains, for the love of- ugh, whatever. English trains are faster than American trains, let's just head there and see if you get any idea where to go." Louisa itched her cheek, eyeing the map.

"Can we see what Butlins is first?"

"No."

"Rude." She pouted. Leo shook his hand, fire switching off. The water bubble evaporated, Louisa yawning into her hand. "Carry ya own shit."

The train station wasn't far, but it certainly felt like it. Leo and Louisa- after much bribing and chocolate- dragged the suitcase between them, Calypso keeping an eye out for any monsters or angry goddesses. She had to pull Louisa away from breaking into a toy shop to get a stuffed dolphin toy. "I need it!"

"You do not."

"Do too!"

"Why?"

"I've already named it!"

"Oh?"

"Squeaker."

"That's a terrible name."

"Is not!"

"Um, excuse me?" Leo cut in. "I thought you were supposed to be helping me?"

"It'll cost ya one dolphin toy already named Squeaker."

"That is a terrible name, Lou."

"Well, it's a terrible shame ya've gotta drag that suitcase by yaself, Leo." Louisa stuck her tongue out, folding her arms and sulking. Leo stopped, resting his elbow on the handle of the suitcase and watching her expectantly. "Go away." She instructed, spinning on her heel to put her back to them. Calypso looked at Leo. He inclined his head to her- give it a minute.

Almost three minutes passed before Louisa gave in. She stomped her foot, grasping the air above her head as if to throttle the sky. "Uuuuggggghhh, ya gonna kill yaself luggin' that bastard on ya own, fuck's sake! Ya'll owe me a dolphin!" She marched back to Leo's side, knocking his arm off the handle and pulling again. Calypso breathed a sigh of relief.

The first train was not until almost five in the morning. There were raised flower beds outside, concrete walls wide enough for a few exhausted demigods to crash on. Louisa sat atop the upright suitcase, nominating herself to stand guard for the next three hours. Leo was not overly impressed with her perch, regarding her distastefully. She stared him down, Calypso already asleep and unable to intervene.

"Don't dent my dragon. Fat-ass." He added quietly, lying down.

"I will smother you in your sleep."

"Oh no, the horror." He mumbled around a yawn. "Night, Lou." She hummed dubiously. Leo didn't reply, dozing off almost instantly.

He found himself in Bunker Nine. It didn't look the same, there seemed to be more stuff, most of which was completed. It was brighter, warmer, he could hear a child laughing somewhere in the maze of it all. Was that Harley? His chest tightened at the thought of his little brother, guilt shredding his stomach.

There was a crash behind him, loud and echoing. He almost jumped out of his skin, whirling round. He froze when he saw himself, considering the mess of tools and metal and whatever else had been stacked up. This was his older self again, but older than the last vision. If dream-Leo had to guess, his aged-up version had to be in his mid-thirties.

Standing ankle-deep in the mess, hands tucked innocently behind her back and whistling nonchalantly, was older Louisa. She had grown her hair back out, in a high ponytail as always, wearing an army jacket a little too big for her. Dream-Leo could see the scars on her face a little better this time around- a triangular one beneath her right eye, one on her chin that almost met the point of one on her left cheek, coming up from her jawline, and one on her neck, stemming from the base of her throat. One from the left side of her hairline, almost hidden under a loose lock of hair.

He was no expert in scars, but each one looked to be caused by a blade. They looked like they had been deep injuries. What had happened?

"Really?" Older-Leo said, folding his arms.

"Really what?" Older-Louisa said, feigning obliviousness.

"You've been in here thousands of times and you still destroy the place."

"I do not."

"No?"

"No."

"So all this stuff…?" Older-Leo gestured at the mess.

"Just fell in my path. Came out of nowhere." She shrugged a shoulder, looking away and humming. Older-Leo rolled his eyes and her focus snapped back to him, sharpening. "Ya'd better not be."

"Just did. And, oh, look at that, doing it again." Older-Leo rolled his eyes again, grinning cheekily. "What're you gonna do about it, mmm, chica?" He leaned forward, arms folded victoriously, bumping his nose against hers. She blew a raspberry, pressing her fingers to his chest and pushing him back. Older-Leo began to snark her, interrupted by the child laughing again. It was closer this time, and definitely not Harley.

A small boy clambered over the pile and dream-Leo sank to the floor. This boy had to be no older than three or four, wielding a wrench like it had been born in his hand. He was a spitting image of Leo, but he had Louisa's eyes and lopsided grin. He barrelled straight for Older-Leo. "You causing trouble, mijo?" Older-Leo laughed, catching the boy in his arms.

"Yes!" The boy grinned, flames dancing in his hair, brandishing the tool. He smiled at Louisa. "Mama! Elsie go splat!"

"Elsie go splat?" Louisa echoed. "Oh gods, what did ya do?"

"Na-uh! Kia did it!"

"Really now?"

"Si!" The boy kicked his legs, wriggling his way over to Louisa, to Mama. She shot Older-Leo a look, almost as if to say this is your fault. He held his hands up in surrender, but seemed unbothered by the ordeal. "Mama!" The boy tapped the wrench on her nose, pouting. "Elsie go splat! Not my fault! She stuck! Not my fault too!" He nodded insistently, eyes angelically wide. Louisa hummed disbelievingly, trying not to smile. The fire on his head snapped out and he smiled sweetly, bowing his head to rest on her shoulder. "I good boy." He said. "Kia make Elsie go splat."

The dream melted into grey fog. Dream-Leo protested, despite himself. That was the good future, he had to understand it! He told himself it was to look for a clue, for anything that indicated what made that future possible, the future Hecate had said would only happen if he kept Louisa on the gods' side. It was definitely not to see more about the boy that looked so much like him with the fiery hair, or see the other two he was talking about, why had he already forgotten their names? He had just heard them, the little boy had used them several times, what were they?

Images began to fill in around him. He didn't notice, pulling at his hair in the vain attempt to recall the names. The first dream, with the baby, the baby had been in a pink blanket, he and Louisa had been in their early-twenties. Did that mean that whoever the little boy was talking about, were they older than him? An older sister?

"DUCK!"

"That's a swan!"

"Actually, it's an ink splat. Ya'll just weird."

"Don't 'ya'll' us, you silly American."

"I will fight you." Leo looked around. Four people sat on the grass outside a manor house. It was bigger than Bunker Nine, the grounds sprawling as far as he could see. The group had not strayed far from the building, less than thirty paces from the steps through the ornate wooden doors. He recognised Louisa instantly, maybe fourteen or fifteen here. The other three were dressed all in black. She was having a thumb war with the one on her right, a tall boy with dark, tufty brown hair cut short and a determined look on his face, a sketchbook of ink splats discarded by his leg. Beside him, a girl of similar age to Louisa, her auburn hair chopped and messy, examining a knife between her fingers. Next to her, a boy with blond hair and glasses, ignoring the bickering as he read from a book that undoubtedly weighed more than he did. The blond boy and the auburn girl had similarities in their nose and eyes, were they related?

Louisa laughed triumphantly, the tall boy called for a rematch.

"Uh, don't think so, Joel." The auburn-haired girl said, elbowing him.

"She cheated!" Joel protested.

"Ya've just got weak thumbs." Louisa teased.

"I do not, how dare you?" Joel crossed his arms sulkily. The blond boy glanced up, peering over his glasses. "I'm not putting a pound in the Sulk Jar."

"Yes you are." The other boy nodded.

"I thought you loved me!"

"You're still sulking."

"Oh, bite me." Joel muttered. He and the other boy were a little older than the girls, perhaps sixteen or seventeen. "L.J, tell your brother I want a divorce." He nudged the auburn-haired girl, jutting his chin at the blond boy in case she had missed him. She, L.J, simply ignored him, sheathing her knife and pulling another from her belt.

"Wait, we're married?"

"We were. Arsehole. I get the car!"

"No, no, no, you cannot drive!"

"Can too!"

"Mario Kart does not count!"

"Like he's any good at that anyway." Louisa scoffed. Joel's head snapped round so quickly, she started. "Dude, how is your neck not broken?"

"It's a talent."

"That's one word for it. Also, break time's over." Louisa pointed at the doors to the manor. Two seconds later, they burst open, another figure dressed all in black racing towards them. Joel and the blond boy marvelled at her.

"How do you do that?"

"It's a talent." She shrugged. L.J put away her knife and stood. She grasped the arm of the new-comer, a young woman in her twenties. Her blonde-brown hair was also cut short, a little longer than a buzz cut.

"What is it, Klouter?"

"Head-Hunter." Klouter said grimly. "Left their calling card."

"Where?"

"Shopping centre. Bexleyheath. Transport will be ten minutes, meet you at the main gates."

"Who's going?"

"Boss wants you and her to check it out." Klouter nodded at Louisa. "Joel, Neville, he wants to see you in his office."

"OK, but Neville told me the microwave wouldn't explode, so… blame him."

"I told you that it would."

"I never heard that."

"You don't hear anything."

"Sorry, what?"

"Ugh, why do I even bother?" Leo looked to Louisa. She stared right back at him, frowning.

"Wake up." She instructed. Leo blinked and then he saw a different Louisa, one closer to his face and poking his forehead. "Wake up." She repeated. The sky was lightening behind her, he could hear Calypso singing quietly to herself.

"Wh- what?"

"D'ya want a train ta London? I feel like London is a good start." She moved away. Leo struggled to sit up, forcing his mind to dwell on the second dream, not the first.

"Lou?" He called, keeping his gaze on the floor. He could feel her watching him. "Do you know where Bexleyheath is?"

"No, why?"

"You've been there with your friends." Calypso had stopped singing, appearing beside Leo. She pressed a breakfast bar into his hand, kissing his cheek. He smiled feebly, murmuring, "Morning, Cal."

"Bex-what?" Louisa puzzled.

"Bexleyheath." Leo repeated. She blinked, brow creasing in the familiar absence of knowledge. Leo bit in his breakfast bar, sighing. "It's alright, we'll find it." He glanced at the suitcase. "Should we just fly to London?"

"It takes two hours by train, I asked. How long on Festus?"

"About the same."

"Considering he doesn't fall from the sky again." Calypso said.

"He's not well, leave him alone." Leo pouted. They exchanged dubious glances. "Fine, we'll go by train. Festus will be upset though."

"I think we'll manage." Calypso half-smiled.

"Not if he sets you on fire."

"At least I'd die warm."