Icarus was falling. There was a moment of bone-chilling terror as memories washed over him.

The feeling of flying, his eagerness to push himself higher and higher

The sight of Apollo riding in his chariot over the world

The giant, fiery horses galloping across the sky, tossing flaming manes

Panic as he realized the sun was too close

Pain, severe, burning pain like nothing he'd ever experienced…

Splash!

The ocean was cold compared to the searing memory of fire, and Icarus gulped in the salty water as he tried to take a breath. But before he could start to panic, a strong hand grasped his toga and jerked him up out of the water. The next thing he knew, Hercules dropped him on the ground and gingerly pushed water out of his lungs.

"Icarus! Are you okay?" Hercules asked, patting his back as he coughed up the rest of the water.

After spluttering and coughing, Icarus looked up with watering eyes at his friend. "What happened?"

Before Hercules could answer, Phil came bounding over, his eyes frantic. "What in the name of Zeus was that?!"

Icarus stared at him blankly. "What was what?" he rasped.

"Are you kidding?" Phil demanded.

"Phil," Hercules said, calm authority in his voice. "He is not joking. I think he blacked out when he jumped."

Icarus swallowed and sat up. "I jumped? I really jumped?"

Hercules nodded. Beside his feet were the wings, lying in a soggy heap. Phil looked frightened.

"That's it. You ain't doin' no more today, ya hear me?"

"Okay," Icarus said simply. He was grinning as he looked at them.

"Okay?" Phil asked, surprised.

"Yes. I did what I wanted to. That's enough for today." Icarus stood on shaky legs. "I guess I must have screamed or something?"

Phil and Hercules glanced at each other. The noise that had come from Icarus's mouth had been the most terrifying, heart-wrenching sound they had ever heard. Even back at the house, it had sent a chill up the satyr's spine, and he'd dropped everything and booked it to the cliff. Hercules had seen a look of abject horror cross Icarus's face as he fell like a stone without even trying to flap the wings. He'd struck the water hard, and Pegasus had begun to dive before he'd hit the water.

"Yeah," Hercules finally said. "You… you screamed."

Icarus nodded. "Well, let's go rest. I'm beat."

With only a bit of hesitation, Icarus picked up the wings and gently shook the water off of them. "We need to hang this to dry. Is there a place I can do that?"

"Sure, kid. I got a place," Phil said. "But no more today. I want you to relax. You finished that shower thingy, did your stretches, and jumped off a cliff. That's enough."

Icarus nodded and smiled tiredly. "I agree. I don't think I can handle anymore." He paused. "But thanks for letting me jump off the cliff. Dadalus never would have. Not after… after last time."

Phil studied him then gestured for him to follow. "You need to get past that phobia, kid. I know how bad they can be. Jason was terrified of water before I got ahold of him. But it ain't easy. It takes a lot outta ya. A whole lot more than most people realize. So I'll let ya do it again if, and only if, you promise to listen to me and Herc when we tell ya that you've done enough. Deal?"

Icarus plodded along and thought about that. Then he nodded. "Yeah. I think that's fair."

"Good. Now, you two sit at the table and talk to me while I make dinner."

And they did. Phil put Icarus as far from the fire as possible, which made the boy feel grateful. He couldn't face fire. Not that night. They had a nice, hot dinner and chatted for a while before Phil sent them to bed. Hercules looked like he wanted to argue because it was so early, but when Phil pointed at Icarus, who was pretty close to passing out, Hercules acquiesced and helped Icarus into his hammock. That night's nightmare was so much more intense that it scared all three of them, but Phil was not surprised and comforted Icarus before sending him back to bed.

The next morning at sunrise, Phil called from the bottom of the statue. "Icarus! Come on and help me make breakfast."

Icarus groggily got up and dropped down to the dewy grass then walked into the kitchen, scrubbing his eyes and yawning. "What am I doing?"

"You're going to stand by the fire and help me scramble eggs," Phil said.

Icarus stiffened, his heart racing, but after a moment, a grim determination settled over him and he nodded. Phil gestured him forward, and Icarus walked over, forcing his feet to move as he got closer to the fire. Phil waited patiently.

"We're doing this first thing so you can rest today. You need to be ready to jump off the cliff again. Yeah?"

Icarus nodded, his face blank as he stared at the fire. Phil reached over and handed him a spatula. "Do ya know how to make scrambled eggs?"

When Icarus shook his head, Phil pulled out a pan and had Icarus crack eggs into the skillet. The boy's hands shook, but he managed to keep most of the shell out.

"Good. Now move 'em around real gentle. Make sure to scrape the pan. Yep. Just like that."

Phil continued to talk, coaching him through scrambling the eggs. The whole time, Icarus was aware of the fire crackling uncomfortably close by. But the constant stream of words forced him to focus on the task. When the eggs were done, he took several steps back and sucked in a breath before letting it out in a shaky sigh.

"Anything else?" he asked, his voice small.

"Nope. Go and get Herc, and I'll finish up."

Icarus walked out and called to Hercules, who begrudgingly rolled out of bed and came inside. Phil put down two plates of eggs and barely bread for the teens then grabbed a healthy patch of grass for himself.

"Here ya go, Herc. Icarus made the eggs."

"Really?" Hercules slapped Icarus on the back, and Icarus grinned as he rolled his shoulders.

"Yeah. Sorry if I did bad. I was a little… distracted."

His eyes darted to the fire, and Hercules understood. "That's cool. Ma used to tease me that I'd burn water given half a chance."

Icarus laughed as they sat down for breakfast. The eggs were slightly overcooked, but Icarus had to admit that it wasn't bad for his first time cooking. After that, Hercules and Icarus did their training before the demigod hurried for the barge.

"We'll go to the cliff after training this afternoon!" he called over his shoulder.

"Put the note on Dadalus's desk!" Icarus reminded him.

When the barge had departed, Phil came over. "Okay, kid. You've trained this morning. You've cooked this morning. And you're jumping off the cliff again this afternoon. So today, you need to rest."

"Mind if I build something?" Icarus asked.

"Do you consider that to be relaxing?" Phil countered.

"Yes, actually."

Phil studied him. "Okay then. But I want you nearby so I can make you take breaks. No more of this working until ya can't stand no more."

Icarus agreed, then retrieved tools and parts and began to tinker away in front of Phil's house. His nimble fingers flew through the motions as his mind wandered, and several times Phil came out to tell him to take a break to walk around. Once or twice, Phil stood in the doorway and watched Icarus work, intrigued by what the boy was able to do with so little. By the time Hercules returned from school, he'd repaired several tools that Phil had been certain he'd have to replace.

After a short training session, Hercules and Icarus headed for the cliff. This time, Phil came with them and sat down to watch. Pegasus chewed on grass as Icarus checked the wings for damage after his fall into the ocean. When he'd determined that they were just fine, he slipped them on and flexed his arms as he worked through the full range of motion again. Satisfied, he paused to think.

"I think jumping off the cliff yesterday was necessary," he said. "But I remembered when I was working today that Dadalus had me learn to flap first. I'd forgotten that. So right now, I think I need to practice flapping to get off the ground. Is that okay?"

Hercules actually looked relieved. Why hadn't he thought of that? "Yeah. Sounds good. I kinda want to see you get off the ground. See if they really work, you know?"

Icarus grinned and nodded then spread his arms and brought them down hard. It was like he'd jumped into the air as he was lifted clear off the ground. Hercules and Phil gaped in surprise as Icarus landed easily on his feet.

"That feels good," he mused. "No resistance, good thrust. I think we're good. I'll just have to maintain a rhythm." He turned to Hercules. "I want you to count how many seconds I'm off the ground, okay?" Hercules nodded, so Icarus turned to Phil. "I want you to count how many times I flap."

"No problem, kid," Phil responded.

Icarus nodded and poised himself, spreading his arms, and therefore the wings, out. "Okay. Ready? Now!"

Icarus flapped and hovered off the ground, pumping his arms in a steady rhythm as he focused on hovering. His face was a mask of fierce concentration as he worked his muscles. But unlike most physical activity, using his arms to flap the wings was easy. His muscles didn't seize and complain but moved smoothly. After a while, he stopped flapping and landed on the ground, his breathing heavy.

"Okay, how was that?"

Phil and Hercules stared at the boy with open mouths. They couldn't believe their eyes. Icarus had hovered above the ground. And they had witnessed it. Somehow, hearing the story of him flying into the sun had never really impressed on them the reality that in order to hit the sun, Icarus had flown through the sky like a bird. He had been off the ground, high in the heavens, where gods lived and mortals had dreamed of being but had no real chance to ever reach. He had flown up there. He had done the impossible. And it was a mind-blowing realization.

"Hello? I need the numbers," Icarus said, waving his hand in front of Hercules's face.

"What? Numbers?" Hercules blinked then shook his head. "Um, I got to three hundred seconds."

"Divided by sixty, that's five minutes," Icarus calculated at once. "Not bad considering I haven't done this in four years." He turned to Phil. "How many flaps did you count?"

Phil gazed at him in wonder as he spoke, his voice subdued. "About six hundred, I think."

Icarus thought about that. "Six hundred divided by three hundred is two, so that would be about two flaps per second, which would be a hundred and twenty per minute. Considering the need for a steady rhythm and the amount of energy I used, I'd say those are decent statistics." He looked up thoughtfully at the sky. "Higher up, there would be more airflow, which would make gliding easier, which would reduce the number of flaps per second to maintain height."

"What does that mean?" Hercules asked, his head spinning.

Icarus grinned, and his manic energy was back for a few moments. "It means that once I reach a certain height, it will take less energy to keep myself aloft. I could, theoretically for now, glide more to maintain altitude, so I wouldn't have to flap as much."

Hercules felt a slow smile grow on his face as he gazed fondly at Icarus. Icarus faltered and stared at him. "What?"

"You are so Daedalus's son."

Icarus flushed with pleasure and a smidge of embarrassment. "Thanks." He settled the wings in place then slipped off the pack and rolled his shoulders. "That's enough for now."

"It is," Hercules agreed. "So what now?"

"Icarus is gonna help make dinner," Phil replied with a nod.

Icarus nodded and steeled himself to get near fire again. "Okay then. Lead the way."

Phil trotted back toward the house, Icarus and Hercules following behind. Icarus thought about the day and was pleased by the small increments of progress he'd made. It was a good start, a great launching point. Now he just had to keep going.