Gah! I cannot believe how long it took to write this up. Months! And because of that, I am so, so, so, so, sorry about the extremely long wait for this. I actually think I was working on this at the same time as working on the one-shot before this one. It's been that long, I don't remember. Anyway, I am still alive... I just don't know when I'll next update. In the meantime, please enjoy and try not to hate the ending as much as I do.

Just Like Clockwork

September 5th, 1863

" Hey, Cage. What's that you're doing?" A voice called from behind the short statured son of Hephaestus, forcing him to draw an unintended line across the majority of his nearly complete blueprint.

Micajah Earnst, known to most of his siblings and friends as Cage, was probably the shortest son of Hephaestus in the cabin. Like most people in camp, he was fair skinned despite the almost permanent oil and grease smudges covering a good percentage of his body. But he had one hazel eye and one green eye, as well as light brown hair complete with oil and grease smudges. With a sigh, the boy closed his eyes before turning around and glaring at the person who had ruined his masterpiece.

Behind him stood one of the few dark skinned campers, Byron Howland. Byron was another son of Hephaestus. He was also the tallest of the siblings… and the youngest. How that happened, no one knew. People just accepted it. But he faltered in his advance when he noticed the odd eyed glare that his half-brother was giving him. Being the youngest also meant that he was the most curious out of the cabin.

" I'm guessing I interrupted something important again, didn't I."

" Yes, Byron. You did. Now what do you want?" Micajah replied, irritation in his voice, before turning back to his blueprints and erasing the massive mistake on the page.

" Ike and Benjamin were looking for you. They wanted to ask you about what happened with… with Mathias."

" Don't you speak his name!" Micajah leapt off his stool with red face and clenched fist holding a broken pencil, two multi-coloured fires burning in his eyes.

" I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I forgot for a moment. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

But despite the panic in Byron's voice, Micajah was storming through the bunker – tossing sheets and tools all across the massive room and forcing hydraulic lifts and other metal objects built before their time out of his way. Not even the armour was spared being thrown about in the boy's fit of rage.

Finally, after five intense minutes, Micajah calmed down somewhat. That is to say, he was stopped by the ladder which led up to the catwalk and the boarded tunnel. He himself had recently placed the boards over the passage to what he now called the 'traitor's cave'.

In reality, that small passage led to three rooms. The first room had been Mathias' home away from home. It had everything an ordinary bedroom needed from a bed to a wardrobe. It even had celestial bronze lighting instead of candles. The second and third rooms were filled to the brim with every one of Mathias' experiments, gadgets and contraptions. Of course, they were only filled like that because Mathias had betrayed not only Macajah's friendship and trust but also the entire population of Camp Half-Blood. So what if he had Roman blood in him? He was born a Greek so he should stay a Greek!

And that is why Micajah now hated Mathias.

Ever since that day when Mathias was kicked out of camp, Micajah had wanted nothing to do with the boy. So he stashed everything he could of his old friend's things away in Bunker 9 and blockaded every inch of the tunnel. Nothing would be able to get in or out.

Now, and this was the reason why he was in Bunker 9 working on blueprints, Micajah was almost certain that Mathias would return wanting revenge. So, because of that and the sense of impending doom he was getting, he was planning on making a new source of protection for the entire camp. If only Chiron and Madam Aphaea would see the idea as brilliant and not ludicrous every time he begged them to reconsider.

So far, his plan was to build something that had never before been built. Of course, it would have to be an automaton due to the fact that he was a Hephaestus boy and every child of Hephaestus had a knack for working with metal. It would also have to be big and dangerous in order to defend the entire camp. And he had the perfect idea for a Camp Half-Blood defender in his head... and almost on paper.

To be completely honest, he was having difficulties with working out how the head would look like. He had the rest of the body looking perfect on the blueprints. He could just never see the head of the beast whenever he dreamed about it. It was always in the shadows, maybe even missing. That was what he was trying to figure out when Byron had entered.

And it was just like Byron to have more than one reason to be in a place like Bunker 9 because he pulled from his pocket a folded up piece of paper. Slowly, trying not to cause any more sudden outbursts of anger from his half-brother, the black boy made his way over to where the smaller, oil smudged boy was standing.

" John Bastion from Apollo Cabin also wanted me to give you this." He said, holding the paper out to Micajah. " All he said was that this piece of paper had to get to you and only you and that you were right. Now I don't know what's going on, but something smells fishy… and it's not Martha or the Poseidon Cabin."

" For now Byron, just know that when I ask for help, I want everyone's help on deck. I'm going to show Chiron and Madam Aphaea that this camp really does need protection. But what was I right about?"

" The Romans are coming."

Those four words weighed heavily over both sons of Hephaestus. With what felt like a rock jamming his throat, Micajah unfolded the paper in his hand. What he saw was a hurried sketch of a massive Greek Trireme surrounded completely by massive flames and complete with what was marked as full celestial bronze plating, possible air to land features and more. And the sketches of the weapons was more than amazing (Cage would have fun trying to even design them on the blueprints).

But the main thing that caught his attention was the masthead. There was no two ways about it, it was a dragon's head. Made out of Celestial Bronze, the eyes glowed red with life and its mouth was open as if ordering the flames to let the ship pass. For Micajah, it was almost like love at first sight. Without a word to his half-brother, Micajah hurried back to his work bench and quickly got to work sketching both the blueprints for the mega-trireme (as he was already starting to call it) and finishing the blueprints of his project.

August 31st, 1864

All was quiet in Camp Half-Blood. Training still went on, as did the fights with the monsters that attacked. But the thick, tense air was the only thing that reminded everyone of what was going on outside. And that tense reminder was all it took to get everyone to train ten times as hard as usual.

The reason? War was upon them.

Even though Bunker 9 was originally created as a hidden warehouse that connected to both the forges and the Hephaestus cabins, Chiron had made the entire cabin turn their warehouse into a bunker almost the second that Mathias had been forced from Camp Half-Blood.

Next to that, as soon as the outside war had started the month before between north and south, Chiron and Madam Aphaea had both ordered that the other cabins get their own bunkers too. It was only a precaution thing, in case the war worked its way to the cabin borders, but everyone in camp had to help build the bunkers. Even the Big House got its own bunker with the dining pavilion becoming part of the Big House bunker and the Infirmary becoming part of Bunker 7 on Chiron's orders.

After five months of doing nothing but building the bunkers of Camp Half-Blood, Micajah couldn't help but sigh as he sank down onto his cot in Bunker 9. It was night time outside the Bunkers, which was supposed to mean bed time. The only difference was that only four cabins were allowed outside at a time during the day and everyone went into the bunkers to sleep instead of their cabins.

At first, it was the entire camp somehow squashed together in Bunker 9. There was literally next to no space to even walk safely thanks to all the tools and bodies everywhere. And, of course, that meant that everyone now knew exactly where the secret entrance was in Cabin 9 – well, the Cabin leaders did, anyway. Micajah took to sleeping on the catwalk in front of the Traitor's Cave just to make sure that no one tried to pry off the boards.

Once the first of the new Bunkers was created, the genders were separated. That meant that there was more walking space… and more snooping space. The only good thing was that now the bunker camp had an infirmary. And – at that point at least – the next bunker to be built was the Big House bunker.

By the time June rolled around, half the camp had bunkers of their own. And when that happened, Micajah was the first to kick anyone who wasn't of Hephaestus blood out of Bunker 9. That was when Bunker 9 returned to being solely used by Hephaestus children by night. Unfortunately for Micajah, the daylight hours were still busy building bunkers with.

Now, after the last of the Bunkers had finally been finished, Micajah just wanted to burry himself in a hole. He had almost finished building the various pieces of automaton when Chiron had informed the campers of what was happening in the Civil War, especially the battle for Globe Tavern. And that news alone had shocked the son of Hephaestus.

Out of Micajah's older half-siblings, he had two brothers in the army and one sister. Josiah and Floyd were twins and were the eldest at 21 years, with Evelyn just turning 18 and thus stuck in the middle. Micajah himself was turning 15 soon. But on the day that Chiron had given out the news about the new war back in 1861, he had also given out a couple of letters; the majority of which stated to the receiving camper that a war had been started and that a member of their family had gone to either serve for the north or the south. His was the only letter to state a death; Floyd had died in the battle of Philippi.

From his inner pocket, Micajah pulled out a number of pieces of paper. The majority of those papers were mainly job lists and miniature blueprints. But there were two letters in amongst the 'everyday' papers. The first was the letter stating that Floyd had been one of the first casualties in the war, the second was received not long ago and it bore the same kind of news; Josiah had, now too, fallen to the war.

Micajah dug through the papers until he came across one that was a smaller version of his automaton blueprint he had been working on when Byron had given him the image containing the machine's head. On it was a fine drawing of a great automaton dragon. Of course, this was still a blueprint in its own rights, and so was labelled with the various colours that the son of Hephaestus intended to make the dragon out of. But even though the beast was still being made, Micajah had already named it.

" One of these days, Alex, you will be out of the Bunker and protecting the camp. Heck, you may even protect the world one day. But I have a bad feeling that I will never get to see that day come. For now, though, we'll just start small. You'll protect these letters, won't you?" The son of Hephaestus said to the image.

Without another word, Micajah turned onto his side and, clutching the letters and the miniature blueprint, fell asleep.

September 25th, 1864

" They're here! All arms at the ready!" Christopher Lewis, head counsellor for Ares cabin, roared down into the bunkers from the tower that was a part of Bunker 5.

Cue mass chaos as everyone below ground tried to sort themselves out and defend their home. Micajah rushed to the rest of the Hephaestus cabin who were all surrounding his not-so-little project. Everything was ready. Alex was complete and ready to get to work defending the camp. The only thing that his creator was wishing at that moment was that the Romans would have given him enough time to attach the wings to his dragon, then he would have been a force to be reckoned with.

Alas, that was not to happen.

" I hope you know what you're doing, Mr Earnst." Chiron sighed as he watched the children of Hephaestus surround the great bronze automaton.

" Don't worry, Chiron. Alex was made to protect camp." Micajah replied with as much reassurance as he could muster given the situation they were currently in.

With that, the dragon creator turned to face his creation. A sense of pride seemed to wash over him as he looked over the perfectly melded form of his automaton pet.

Alex was made entirely of bronze plating and with all the advanced wiring and circuitry inside of him, Micajah knew that he wouldn't fail in his duties for at least a century or more – two if he was well cared for. The flamethrower that was built into the dragon's chest and connected to the neck was state of the art and the only way for Alex to ignite his flame was to engulf copious amounts of oil mixed with chilli peppers, vinegar, pepper corns and tomato juice squeezed fresh from the growing tomatoes. (AN: I don't believe Camp Half-Blood was always in the strawberry business) And those sharp claws and sharp, rotating teeth were never going to dull thanks to the way that they were specially designed and created. However, though Micajah loved the entire dragon, Alex's ruby red eyes had to have been his most handsome attributes that only the son of Hades, Jedidiah H., could have made possible. Those ruby eyes were made from real rubies.

Finally, after admiring his creation, Micajah took a deep breath and raised his head to the roof of Bunker 9.

" Great Lord Hephaestus, father, we beg you hear our prayer. All we ask is for help in protecting our home of Camp Half-Blood and thus Olympus. Together, your children of Camp Half-Blood have come together to create a great, bronze dragon in order to help protect our home from monsters and Romans alike. Father, we beg you, I beg you, please give life to this great automaton so that it may fulfil its duty to the gods. Please let him live so that, when the time comes, he will be chosen to embark on a great quest foreseen in the distant future. We've never asked for anything from you for the past hundred years. Please, father, grant this automaton dragon life."

A small spark of light. The whirring sound of gears. Then nothing. Micajah was about to give up when the Romans forced their way into one of the other bunkers. In a mad rush, the Hephaestus cabin broke the ring they had formed around the dragon and charged with weapons and mechanic devices alike. The bi-eyed son of the fire god had no choice but to follow. But before he left, he managed to take in one last sight of his great dragon.

Micajah was one of the fallen that day.

He had never seen his dragon wake for the first time and charge after the Roman forces, making them flee for their lives and thus causing Camp Half-Blood to win the battle.

April 15th, 1906

Forty two years had passed since the battles between the Roman and Greek demigod camps, and Alex was still making his daily (and nightly) rounds of Camp Half-Blood's border. Despite being an automaton, he could tell that none of the campers that now lived within his territory knew about the near destruction of their camp. However, he could also tell that the children of Hermes and Poseidon were planning something.

The Hermes cabin, as always, was full beyond measure. And, somehow, the full blood Hermes children (namely Paul Scudder, Bob Dalley, Carney Edwards and their sister Vivian Gardner) had gathered a whole heap of blackmail on the Poseidon Twins Finn and Sander Sutter, both of which had the combined power of creating earthquakes if ever they fought against each other. And there was more than one earthquake-created ditch that Alex had fallen into because of those two… which is why Alex was very cautious around the Poseidon Twins.

Of course, when Paul, Bob, Carney, Vivian, Finn and Sander all went missing for near on a week, the entire camp became instantly worried. Alex didn't really care about them, though. They were just annoyances in his eyes. Especially Bob. Thanks to the son of Hermes, Alex almost malfunctioned due to one of his pranks.

Yeah, that was the day that Bob learned to never get on the automaton's bad side.

A few days later, Alex discovered, thanks to patrolling around Chiron's office, where the campers had been. San Francisco. The Hermes campers (who, by the way, were all older than the Poseidon Twins) had managed to get Finn and Sander to fight each other on a beach there before going around and starting some of the fires. And, of course, despite the severe punishment that was given to all six of them, no one managed to find out just who it was that had caused the San Francisco Earthquake.

December 8th, 1941

By the time Micajah Earnst's automaton dragon was seventy-seven years old, Alex was no longer Alex. Thanks to the San Francisco Earthquake, most of the Hephaestus campers could no longer come to camp due to death. Yeah, the small number of children in the Hephaestus Cabin – which totalled all of six – had all perished. And the only one who didn't, a little girl by the name of Amanda and at the tender age of ten, disappeared about five years later when she went to mourn the loss of her siblings.

Needless to say, the great automaton was forgotten by all but Chiron. And even when Hephaestus had children in his cabin once more, no one seemed to miss him. Instead, he was thought of as a myth, a legend.

However, the automaton found a new friend not even a month before America entered the Second World War. This son of Hephaestus was about eleven, he was a Latino child and his name was Gomez. He also seemed to have a thing for the comic strips in the newspapers which he almost always managed to convince the Hermes children to get for him.

To be completely honest, Alex's new name was Fester, after one of those comic strip characters… and he liked the name. It gave him a sort of connection to his creator and life bringer, despite being just a machine. And, at the time of the bombing of Pearl Harbour, both he and Gomez were enjoying a nice stroll together. Gomez had been talking about trying to get the automaton to fly when the horn was sounded for an emergency meeting.

Chiron brought bad news that day. America was at war once again. Vaguely, Fester noted that the time of his awakening was during a war. He also vaguely noted that the enemy ran from the sight of him. It was that vague memory that prompted the dragon to take a proud step forward at the meeting and blow a puff of smoke. Sadly, his pride was torn with the centaur's next words.

" I'm sorry, old friend. But you cannot chase away this enemy. They are much too powerful for you to take on alone. And your duty is to this camp. Maybe one day, when camp is threatened once more, you can show everyone how fierce a dragon can truly be."

New Year's Eve, 1989-1990

The great, 125 year old bronze dragon watched as the winter campers eagerly awaited the New Year. He heard them counting down the seconds. He saw the fireworks display blasting through the sky as if in war with the stars and clouds above. And he slinked away into the forest as the demigods returned to their cabins for the night.

Four generations of demigods had passed since the dragon had been known as Fester. Unfortunately, Fester was once more forgotten - except in legend – amongst them. And Fester knew that Chiron could see it.

Already he was past his tune up date, and he had been for the past several months. There was a chink in his tail that desperately needed fixing and one of his claws had come loose. He was even leaking oil… and he really didn't like that. Not to mention the rust and fungus that was surprisingly starting to coat his once glistening body.

With a final puff of smoke, the great dragon knew that his days of service were now over. His pride wounded and his fire replaced with sorrow, he dug himself a deep nest and curled up. He didn't notice how long it took for his circuits to finally shut down and he really didn't care. The only thing he cared about was that he was no longer needed and thus no longer cared for. All he cared about was that he was alone.

The Re-awakening

To be completely honest, Fester had no idea how long had passed since he had shut down. He just remembered waking up to a really fuzzy looking dark skinned, buff boy. His hearing wasn't that great either and the joints in his scales gritted together like they had been covered in sand or something for years. It was quite uncomfortable and – like any old creature – that made him grumpy.

But Fester was slowly brought up to date by the retuning of the buff boy who had awoken him. Charles was his name. Charles Beckendorf. And there was something about this son of Hephaestus that reminded the automaton of one of his old friends. He just couldn't put a name to it.

Maybe it was the way Charles worked with a kind of thoughtful passion or the way the boy talked, when he talked at all. Maybe it was the boy's silence that was familiar. Either way, Fester felt like he had connected to the boy almost as soon as he had woken up. And that was why he allowed Charles to even get close to him and help him.

He was, after all, a dragon. And dragons demanded a lot of respect in their partners.

Unfortunately, the time Fester had with Charles was a short one. When Charles didn't return from his mission like he had promised, the great dragon knew that something was wrong. And when the entire camp seemed to fall into depression, he knew what exactly it was that was wrong.

Overcome with his own grief at having lost yet another friend (and this time one he had barely got to know) he went wild. There was no other way to explain his actions. Each friend that he had lost, Fester had somehow sunk deeper and deeper into his own sorrow. And he always managed to get himself out of his 'ditch of sorrow' by somehow convincing himself that someone else was waiting for him.

But this time it was different. Fester felt like he was never going to see the smile of another friend again with the death of Charles. And the camp's negative reaction to the boy's death didn't help his mood at all. Even the news that he was going to be torn apart couldn't faze him. Fester had gone into kamikaze mode.

Then he showed up.

The dragon boy.

His name was Leo Valdez. And though he had the features of a small forest sprite, he had the fire and the courage of a dragon.

At first, he didn't know what to think of the scrawny thing. Especially when his fire wasn't harming the boy even an inch. And then when the boy got trapped with him, he really had no idea what to think. Not even when the boy managed to free him and give him a small but well deserved tune up in the forest did the automaton dragon know what to do.

But then Leo gave him a name. A name so familiar yet so different that a sense of pride and duty washed over him once again. A name that gave him an even stronger connection to his creator, friends and life-bringer than the one he was given before.

Festus.

And Leo was the only one of his friends to notice that he had no wings. The next thing Festus knew was that he had wings attached to his back and was flying across the country with his new master and friends. It was a glorious feeling being able to fly at last. There was no way to describe it. And the feeling of finally realising his true purpose that came with his new-found flight abilities… well, that was beyond extraordinary.

Of course, bad things happen to demigods. And Festus learnt that the hard way. Not only did he shut down numerous times during the quest, but he was also shot down and pretty much destroyed.

The last thing Festus remembered after crash landing was telling Leo that everything can be reused and not to despair.

Boy did Festus get a surprise when he woke up attached to a ship. Once more, his wings were gone. In fact, his entire body was gone. That made the poor dragon just a little bit depressed. Okay, so he was more depressed than he was when Charles died at the fact that he was now just a head. But Leo was still there, so that had to be a bonus.

Another bonus; he could still fly. Somehow, little Leo had managed to build a ship that could fly. And, with Leo's help, Festus went sailing across the world. Of course, he still had to defend the ship and the demigods from the various monsters that tried to stop them. But he wasn't going to let anything happen to Leo. Dragons had to stick together in times of need.

And what greater need was there than being force to wake up by the daughter of Aphrodite and having to defend the ship against a snow goddess? To be honest, he felt more alive and more determined than ever thanks to the daughter of Aphodite's awakening. Especially when he did a 'head count' and found out that Leo was missing.

That dragon did not rest until his boy was found.

Once Leo was found, however, Festus was confused. Yeah he was glad to be back. Yeah he continued to work. But the bronze dragon could sense that not everything was right within his boy. And he had to practically force the information out of him before he could help. Upon news of the Calypso girl that Leo had met reaching the bronze dragon's ears, Festus went silent for a little while.

The joy that overcame Leo once Festus voiced his thoughts instantly set into motion a new beginning for the dragon. Festus could feel the changes within the ship that Leo was making. And it pleased him. It made him proud of the boy.

Then came the promise. With some kind of liquid in hand, Leo had explained what had to happen to Festus. Sure, Festus disagreed with a number of things to the boy's plans, but he couldn't deny that the boy's dragon spirit was burning greater than ever because of it. So he agreed… and the final touches were built into his new, hidden body in preparation for the big reveal.

Fighting against Gaea was what the dragon was made for, he realised. And his new body was fireproof for that very reason. Of course no one expected the screaming fireball to have any say in the destruction, but it worked. Gaea was destroyed… and it looked like she wasn't coming back. And yet, there was just enough essence of her left to make sure that the world didn't follow her destruction.

But Gaea wasn't the only one destroyed that day. On Festus' back lay the charred remains of his dragon boy. And the great bronze dragon had been blown far off course. He couldn't even recognise anything anymore.

But he had a job to do. Two, actually. The first – and most important – happened when he extended the syringe that was hidden within a fold in his neck and injected the liquid into the husk of his dragon boy. It wasn't pleasant, but he had to do it if Leo had a chance of living again.

The second was more of a waiting game. Festus had to search for the lost island without actually searching for it. That confused the dragon greatly, but it was one of the boy's last wishes. So he went with it. And given the fact that his brand-new body had been charred thanks to the fight with Gaea, all he could do was glide around on whatever wind he could.

Thankfully the wait wasn't that long. As soon as Festus felt Leo sit up, he retracted the needle. But it wasn't until he had heard Leo's voice that he felt everything that had been messed up in his mind since he didn't know when click into place. Yeah, he welcomed Leo back to the land of the living. But he now had the feeling that Leo Valdez was more than just his dragon boy, more than his friend.

Leo was his brother.

And, as he descended to the Lost Island, he knew that there was no place he'd rather be than at his brother's side.