It was about a week after the Giant War. The Romans were heading home, and the adrenaline of the campers was dying down. Unfortunately, that meant that it was more difficult to escape the prisons of their own minds.

Jesper cut off the oncoming gasp from his mouth, his body completely rigid. It wasn't his first failed attempt at sleep. He just couldn't escape the images of the final battle.

The demigods screaming in pain.

The ones who fell without a sound.

The terror of being trapped in the dirt with no way out, watching your enemies rise from the ground, falling upon you in a wave of destruction.

The horrors of war that no man should know, much less child.

Blinking back tears, he silently crept out of the cabin, sketchbook and pencil in hand. Jesper avoided the harpies with ease, heading towards a hidden alcove along the beach. He and Pavel had found it back during the Titan War, and it had been their safe haven for when things just got too much. When Dawn had arrived at camp, they had shared their escape from reality with her.

Jesper settled himself against the wall and began to draw. He let go, fully immersing himself in the details of his drawing. Jesper briefly made eye contact with Pavel when he came in, earbuds in and phone in pocket. It was familiar. Him drawing, with Pavel dancing to his music, eyes closed. It helped, truly. To be able to escape reality for just a little while.

Some time later, Dawn came in, carrying a small bag. She sat down opposite of Jesper. Her eyes were brighter than usual, and her long hair, out of its usual braid, hung down to below the waistband of her pajamas in a tangled mess. From the bag she pulled out her favorite shoes, a pair of burgundy converse. The cave soon filled with the smell of Clorox as Dawn began to clean them.

The moonlight slowly creeped across the floor of the cave as time passed.

It washed over the feet of the girl who cleaned her shoes, providing what little comfort it could to a child who had just survived her first war.

It provided a shadow partner to dance with the boy lost in his own music, who worked his hardest to make weapons that would save the lives of those he called friends.

It cast light on the sketchbook of the boy who was the youngest but most world weary of them all, who subtly and silently watching over them, unable to stand the thought of losing them.

It heard their silent cries for help, pleas to be released from the prison of their minds. It heard, and gave its own silent cry, as it could do no more than what it already has been doing.

The cave was empty in the morning. Jesper watched Dawn crack a smile at something Will said from across the dining pavilion. He caught Pavel's eve and smiled. They weren't ok, but they were working on it.