A/N: I just want to clarify, Amaris' opinion of the psych ward was definitely not mine. I was trying to imagine how someone who was stuck there would describe it.

Harley is a strange boy. I think… He could be perfectly normal. I have not spoken to a boy my age for years. He paces a lot twisting his fingers as if there should be something between them. He is always in motion, back and forth and back and forth while his mother tends to Cynthia's forehead. I sit uncomfortably with dried blood crusting on my nightclothes and scratching my skin. I clasp my hands in my lap and twist my bracelet around my wrist. It's the only thing I have left now. Harley's mother finishes bandaging Cynthia's head after carefully stitching up the cut. She is a heavyset woman with strong arms and a broad chest. She is a least twice my height and tiny Cynthia looks like nothing next to her. Her mouth is set in a hard line and she regards us distrustfully. I don't blame her. Two teenagers that she'd never seen before, show up on her doorstep and demand that her son take them to a place that doesn't exist. I wouldn't trust us either. " You need to change." she said. " Both of you. Have a shower and you can borrow some of Harley's clothes until yours are out of the wash. She marches off, up the stairs without looking back at us. I help Cynthia to her feet and we climb the stairs after her.

…...

When I strip off my clothes I find that my skin is stained crimson. My throat and chest are covered in blood that has soaked through my shirt. I draw back the curtain and step under the spray. The shower is warm and my legs buckle when the water hits my back. I can't remember the last time that I was able to do something of my own free will so I stay in the shower extra long just to spite the controlling nurses back at the psych ward.

When I finally get out, all the blood is gone from my skin. I dress in the oversized shirt and shorts that Harley's mom set out for me. When I exit the bathroom and make my way down the stairs Cynthia is already sitting at the table. She's not even wearing shorts as the t-shirt is so big on her that it grazes her knees. Harley is sitting next to her at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal in his lap. He looks up when I walk into the room. His mother gives me a look that could cut stone and plonks a bowl of soup down in front of me. " Mom!" Harley protests.

She points at the bowl. " Eat up. When your clothes are dry, you're leaving."

"Mum!" Harley says. " I'm taking them!" She turns to him and raises an eyebrow. " Of course you are." A small smile graces her lips. "They can stay for the night." He insists. "Then I'll take them to camp." She sighs. " Fine. I'll make up the sofabed." She shuffles out of the room. "Sorry about her," Harley says to Cynthia. He doesn't look at me, in fact he purposely avoids meeting my gaze as if I make him nervous.

" She doesn't really like new people."

"That's fine." Cynthia says distantly as ever. I raise my hand. " I for one still do not understand a thing, so bear with me when I ask … What the hell is going on?!" Harley raises his eyebrows at Cynthia. She turns toward me with a sleepy smile on her face. "It's all right Amaris. It's going to be fine. We are going to a safe place." "You keep saying that!" I explode " You keep saying that! Where are we going?! I barely know you." I point at Cynthia.

"And I only just met you." I throw my hands up in Harley's direction, " So before I go anywhere with either of you I want an explanation!"

Cynthia closes her eyes for a second, her forehead develops a little crease and she sighs. " Do you know your parents?" She asks me. The question is so unexpected that my brain freezes.

" Um.. I-I knew my dad, my Mum skipped out on us when I was little." Cynthia nodded at Harley. "I thought so.

I wave my hand in front of her face. " I'm still here, thanks. I'm still waiting for an explanation."

"It's a little hard to explain." Harley says quietly. " But tomorrow I am going to take you to someone who can help you understand." I glance at the clock and see that it's 2:00 in the morning. " I'm too tired to argue with you right now, I'm going to sleep. I'll yell at you in the morning." I flounce off toward the living room.

….

I wake up to the sound of wind rushing through a window and tyres on asphalt. I gasp and sit up so fast that my head spins. I'm in the backseat of a pick up truck going 60 miles an hour. I look around wildly. "Morning." A voice says quietly. I whip my head around to find that I am face to face with Cynthia. She's leaning over the center console to stare at me. "Breakfast." She says happily and places a brown bag in my hands. " Hope you like cinnamon." Harley says from the driver's seat, not taking his eyes off the road. "Where are we?!" I demand. "A quarter of the way to New York." Harley says. "I didn't agree to go!" I half yell. I swear Harley is smirking. "We'll we're already on the road." Cynthia says, " so you're going to have to deal with it."

I snarl and throw myself down across the seats. Harley's shoulders shake. " Something funny Philadelphia?" I ask. His expression sobers. "U-Uh no." He ducks his head. Avoiding my eyes when I glare at him in the rearview mirror. I look down to realise that I am still wearing Harley's T- shirt and shorts. " Please tell me you brought clothes." Cynthia hands me a bag of fabric. "Thank god."

"God's" Harley says under his breath.

I turn to him. " Sorry what?"

"Nothing" He says quickly.

I notice that Cynthia is wearing a T-shirt that only looks two sizes too big. "Where did you get that?"

"This is one of Harleys shirts from when he was little." Cynthia shrugs. Along with her scrub pants she almost looks like a normal teen. As if she hadn't spent the last few years of her life stuck in a mental hospital. I on the other hand probably look like a mess. Sure enough when I put my hands up to my head, my dark hair is a rats nest. I groan.

…..

When Harley pulls into the gas station I use the bathroom to change and try to fix my appearance. Not that I care. But more than a few people would be more than happy to call the cops on a group of teenagers, one of whom looks like she was dragged through a bush then shoved into a leaf shredder.

I look ridiculous. Even Harley winces when I climb into the front seat of his truck. " I'm really sorry about the clothes." He says. "It's fine." I shrug. "If we ever get stuck in the woods I can use these for kindling for a fire." Harley stifles a cough.

Cynthia climbs into the backseat. " Cynthia." Harley sounds relieved. " Thank the gods you're here- I- I mean, let's get going." His face steadily becomes a lurid shade of red. Cynthia gives me a disapproving look.

Harley fiddles with the steering wheel. Cynthia plonks a plastic bag of food down on the center console.

" Here's our lunch! 1 dollar candy bars and gas stop hot dogs." She plucks a chocolate bar out of the bag and rips open the wrapper. She takes a huge bite then moans. "Oh, it's been so long since I last had sugar." That's the funny thing about Cynthia, she has these moments of complete clarity where she almost seems completely normal but then she'll just slip away again and you'll not get another word out of her unless she wants to speak. . Harley laughs hesitantly. "Wait- are you serious?"

"Yeah" I say, " They don't let us eat any kind of sugar back in the psych ward." Harley raises his eyebrow. "Wow, that place sounds harsh."

I nod in agreement.

"Not really." Cynthia says shaking her head at me. " They were just trying to help us get better." I roll my eyes. " Anyway, how far away is our destination?" Cynthia leans over the center console. " You're in a better mood now" She says with a grin. " Oh no," I shake my head. "I'm still inconsolably angry and will execute my revenge the moment your back is turned"

. Cynthia has the nerve to laugh.

….

Cynthia is asleep on the backseat. Harley is driving, his eyes shielded against the midday sun. I'm in the passenger seat, too alert to even think about sleep. I toy with my bracelet. The motion doesn't go unnoticed by Harley who glances down. "What's that?"

I hold up my wrist. " It's my medical bracelet." I say. "It's standard issue. You have to get it from a doctor. It's a list of my disabilities in case I have a breakdown or something."

"Huh" Harley says. He probably thinks I'm a freak now. If he wasn't already tipped off by me turning up on his doorstep last night, covered in blood.

He stares at me for a few seconds. Behind us, a driver honks and our car jerks. "Eyes on the road!" I yell. He jerks his head back toward the horizon. "S-sorry." He stares straight ahead, his hands stiff on the wheel. "I-I'm not good with organic life forms. Neither is my brother, he always said that." I raise an eyebrow at him. "You have siblings?"

He laughs. "I have 21 of them." I gape at him. "You can't be serious?!" "It's a long story." Harley says. "And there'll be time for it later, we're here." He stops the car on a deserted strip of country lane. I open the car door to the smell of strawberries baking in the heat. I open the back door and shake Cynthia awake. "We're here. Wherever here is."

Cynthia is instantly up and alert. On her feet, light as a pixie. I can practically see the nervous energy radiating off Harley. "Come on!" He says and takes off through the trees.

We follow him until we crest a hill and break through the trees. I gasp, Long Island Sound is spread out below us. Nestled in is a campsite. Cabins are scattered through the woods. Strawberries grow in the fields nearby. A climbing wall spews what looks like lava. Harley walks forward a couple of steps toward a magnificent pine tree. It has a shimmering fleece strung in its lower branches. When I look closer, I gasp. Curled around the base of the tree is a snoring dragon. Its inner eyelid closed over amber eyes. "Welcome to Camp Half Blood." Harley says, and his voice almost like a sigh. "Welcome home."