What up dogs? Happy Thursday! Since that last chapter was kind of lame, here's another, which is longer and (I think, at least) more interesting. Not something you guys didn't see coming, of course, but hopefully fun all the same.

Enjoy!

So we can take the world back from the heart-attacked / One maniac at a time, we will take it back
You know time crawls on when you're waiting for the song to start / So dance alone to the beat of your heart

Bip…Bip…Bip…

The repetitive sound of the heart monitor was really starting to get on Leo's nerves. It was like someone was holding a tin can beside his ear and flicking it with their fingernail every few seconds. The noise seemed to reverberate inside his head, making his teeth chatter and his eardrums ring. Sure, it wasn't that loud objectively speaking. But after a few hours of constant bip-bip-ing he really just wished it would shut up.

Admittedly, though, he supposed it was better than the dead-quiet cell he'd been made to call home for the past week and a half. At least the hospital room had some character. And some light. Light was good.

For some reason, though, it felt odd being free again. Almost like a dream, like he'd imagined the whole Olympus rescue in an effort to escape the stress he was under. Part of him wondered still if maybe he'd just finally lost his mind altogether. It was a scary thought, for sure. Fortunately, a bigger part of him had decided that it didn't matter—real or not, recovering in Olympus's private underground medical facility was way better than slowly dying in a CIA holding cell.

"Leo? Hello?"

The sound of someone snapping their fingers made Leo jump and look around. To the right of the bed on which he sat, Reyna was leaning toward him with a troubled expression.

She'd finally been allowed in to see him shortly after the doctor had finished running some tests and gone off to review the results. She'd kept her cool relatively well—typical Reyna—but knowing her as he did, Leo could tell how relieved she was that he was awake. Not that his physical state provided much to be relieved about, he figured—he pretty much hurt all over. He still couldn't put weight on his right leg. His entire left arm was in a stiff splint, owing to his broken wrist and torn shoulder ligaments. His right arm was permanently tense and tingly. Each breath drew small tendrils of pain across his ribs. He was exhausted, sore, nauseous, and couldn't decide if that meant he wanted to sleep, eat, or throw up. Maybe all three at once.

Yeah, those last few days with Atlas hadn't exactly been a fun time.

Leo turned his attention back to Reyna, who was waiting for an answer. "Sorry," he told her with a weak grin (all of his muscles, including those required to smile properly, were still extremely heavy and tired; it took a lot of effort just to lift a few fingers). "Spaced out for a sec. What were you saying?"

She leaned back in her seat, but her dark eyes continued to search him critically. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked carefully. "I mean—"

"I know what you mean."

He avoided her gaze, staring instead at the corner of his bed. This time she wasn't referring to any physical injuries. Though it was difficult and painful, he tightened a fist around the bronze Zippo lighter in his hand—the one Reyna had mercifully returned to him earlier that morning. He was pretty sure his fingers didn't have the strength to light it, but just holding onto it was effective enough. A bit of the brittle feeling that had been branching farther through his mind in recent weeks faded, like the tiny cracks were filling back in.

"I'm okay," he forced out after a long moment. "Honestly, though… I think I almost wasn't. If you'd shown up any later…" He chuckled uneasily, as if that were some sort of joke—then stopped himself immediately.

Reyna released a slow breath, and Leo chanced a glance up to see a tiny smile tugging at her lips. "Then it's a good thing we didn't," was all she said, to his relief.

"How'd you get them to help?" he asked, fishing for a subtle change of subject. Not that he wasn't curious—this was Olympus they were talking about. In his experience, they weren't the most model of citizens.

She shrugged. "It was Annabeth's idea, actually. She, Piper, and I chased Atlas for weeks, looking for you. Then when we lost you, she decided the only thing left to do was… break into the CIA."

Leo raised his eyebrows, impressed. "I knew I always liked those girls."

"Same here," Reyna agreed with a smirk. "Olympus is… Well, they're not what I expected. They're different. Better."

Leo felt his grin falter. "Yeah, some of 'em are definitely alright. But I'd… still kind of like to get out of here as soon as we can. Not that I'm not grateful for what they did for me," he added hastily as Reyna frowned at him, "but it just… feels weird, being here. Wrong, somehow, I don't know. I don't like it."

"Don't you think you're being a little harsh?" she suggested.

He scowled. "You know why I—actually… you don't. Not all of it, not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Hesitantly, he thought back on his more recent conversations with Duke Atlas (if they could be called 'conversations') and the new information the Deputy Director had been kind enough to give him. It had been the source of much confusion and doubt for him lately, but he figured that after everything that had happened Reyna deserved to know as well, so he responded, "I think I have more history with Olympus than I originally knew about."

Reyna shifted in her seat. "Care to elaborate on that?"

She listened quietly as Leo recounted for her what he'd learned after their trip to his hometown—how Atlas had uncovered evidence that his mother, Esperanza, had been blackmailing someone from Olympus for years before her death. Now, weeks later, both he and Atlas were still in the dark as to the reason. He'd been reluctant to believe it at first—for all he knew, the information could have been some ridiculous interrogation technique, some kind of mind game the Deputy Director was playing with him. But as the days had passed and he'd continued to dwell on the possibility, his uncertainty had grown. Now, he'd more or less accepted it as fact—he was tied to the organization. He just wished he understood why.

"Wow," Reyna summed up aptly. A slight frown drew her eyebrows close, but otherwise she looked stunned. "I… I don't know what to say."

"Yeah," Leo agreed with a wry smirk. "Welcome to my confusion."

They were both spared from having to solve that immediate problem when the door across the room suddenly opened and two men stepped inside. The first was the same doctor who'd visited before—a lean man in his late forties with sandy hair and sharp, goldenrod eyes. He wore a white medical coat over jeans and a T-shirt, not exactly standard. His nametag read Archer—no 'Dr.', no indication if that was a first name, last name, or nickname. Just the word Archer.

The other guy was about the same age, but was huge, burly, and darker-skinned. A curly black beard obscured most of his face, save for a pair of beady black eyes. Once inside, he stood by the door and folded his thick arms across his chest, so Leo figured he was some sort of security detail.

"Well, kid," the doctor began conversationally, flipping a page on the clipboard in his hand, "there's good news and bad news." He stopped at the foot of the bed and looked up. "Which do you want first?"

Leo considered the question and replied, "The bad news." Things were pretty bad already, after all. Might as well go for the gold.

"You're not dying," Archer said with a cheery grin.

"What?" Leo yelped, surprised. "How is that bad?"

Archer blinked and looked at his clipboard. "Oh, sorry—that was the good news. My bad."

Reyna raised a skeptical eyebrow. "That's the good news?"

"Well, yeah. It's good, isn't it?"

"So what's the bad news?" Leo asked impatiently.

"Right." Archer's eyes scanned his clipboard. "Here's the list. First and foremost, your entire muscular system is fried from severe overdose of carisoprodol. I'm gonna have to keep you on it in small doses for a little while to fight off the addiction your body has started to develop to the drug, but I'm confident we can keep it under control. The worst of the damage isn't permanent, but you won't get full mobility back for a good five or six weeks. Even then, I'd strongly advise against any heavy lifting—probably ever again. Especially with your right arm, where the damage seems to be the most severe. Too much muscle strain could result in paralysis, which I'm sure is something you'd like to avoid."

Leo felt his throat tighten—his job, which he loved more than pretty much everything except Reyna, involved an awful lot of muscle strain and heavy lifting. Would he have to give that up completely?

"Besides that, though, it's not too serious," Archer went on. "That wrist will heal in two to three months, quicker if you take extra care of it. We stitched up your shoulder so the tendons should reattach as long as you don't move it too much. You've got a grand total of five cracked ribs—two on your left, three on your right—but fortunately none were broken so badly that they caused any organ damage, aside from some slight bruising to your right kidney. That'll heal, again, as long as you keep activity to a minimum. Expect quite a few stomachaches in the near future, but no long-term changes. The bullet wound in your leg does have a minor infection, which will definitely need treatment, but it didn't strike the bone so that'll cut back on recovery time. You'll be walking again in ten to fourteen days, I'd bet."

Leo swallowed uncomfortably. In an attempt at a humored tone, he said, "So, in short—I'm a mess."

"Basically," Archer agreed. "But a mess we can clean up. Any hospital could do it, of course, but given the, uh… sensitive situation we're in, it's probably best you keep your name out of the system. Don't want them tracking you down again."

"Right. Of course not."

"I've scheduled you for surgery on that leg tonight at eleven forty-five. Until then, just sit tight and take it easy. Hank and I'll be back around that time to get you prepped and moved to the OR."

The bodyguard nodded his assent, and Leo concluded that he must have been Hank.

"Okay. Thanks," he told the doctor.

Archer smiled and nodded, and the two men turned to go.

Leo sighed dejectedly. "Guess I'm up for some serious career reevaluation."

"I'm sorry," Reyna said with a pained grimace. "I can't believe this happened. Maybe if we'd found you sooner…"

"No, don't," he said firmly before she could finish that thought. "If you start feeling guilty, it'll make me feel guilty, and… I just don't think I can take any more guilt, okay?" His hand unconsciously squeezed his lighter again, drawing Reyna's eyes. "It's bad enough I'm mad at myself for resenting my mom and her secrets. I mean, what kind of person does that? She sacrificed everything for me—at least that's what I thought." He shook his head bitterly. "I should trust her, but… I feel like I can't anymore."

"You can always trust your mother," a deep, rough voice interrupted, making Leo and Reyna both jump. Looking up, they saw that the bodyguard, Hank, was still in the room, standing stiffly by the door. Was he supposed to keep watch on them or something?

"Uh…" Leo said blankly, caught off guard.

Hank ignored him and went on, "Moms are good people, they are. Always looking out for their kids. If she done anything wrong by you, she would've had good reason. That's for sure."

The guy must've had some sort of maternal complex, Leo assumed—softer than he looked. Not that he was against a little reassurance, but it didn't exactly help, coming from this random beefcake Olympus had stowed in his room.

"Nice of you to say," he told the man, "but you didn't know her. And I'm starting to think I didn't, either."

He thought the tone of finality in his voice was enough of a hint to stay out of his and Reyna's conversation, but the way the guy's dark eyes studied him beneath slanted, bushy eyebrows gave him pause. The man looked distinctly calculative, like he was considering whether or not starting an argument with a slightly-dazed invalid was worth the trouble.

Apparently it was, as Hank opened his mouth again and said stiffly through his beard, "I knew her better than you think. …But not as well as I would've liked."

Leo's train of thought crumbled to a heap of rubble. "…What?" he said slowly. That couldn't have meant what it sounded like.

Hank sighed heavily as if in defeat, gaze dropping to the floor. "Esperanza was… She was honest," he went on, while Leo casually had a minor heart attack at the sound of his mother's name. "And spirited. And one of the realest people I ever knew."

Reyna reached over and gripped Leo's wrist, but he barely felt it. Staring wide-eyed at Hank, he said, "Wait, you… you really knew her?"

Hank gave a short nod.

"Who are you?"

"Hank Beckendorf," the man said gruffly. "Some call me Hephaestus. I'm Olympus's chief equipment specialist, been with the organization long as I can remember."

"Whoa. So… my mom was involved with…" Shaking aside the shock, Leo realized that this was exactly the opportunity he'd been wishing for. He wanted answers, and here they were, standing cross-armed in his hospital room. "Okay—so what did she know? Why was she blackmailing you guys?"

Hank's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Blackmail? She never…" He broke off, dropping his arms to his sides. "The money," he realized. "You know about that?"

"The CIA found out," Leo explained. "They thought I knew something, tried to… you know, force it out of me." He winced as a few memories surfaced, the fingers on his right hand twitching with phantom pain. "But… I didn't have…"

To his slight surprise, Hank chuckled ruefully, shaking his head. "Evil thing, irony. Ugly." His gaze rose to meet Leo as the mechanic narrowed his eyes. Was it his imagination, or was there pain the older man's eyes? "That money was meant to help you. Instead it got you hurt."

"Help… me?"

"She didn't blackmail anybody. Didn't even want the money at first. Took me a while to convince her to take it."

"You?" Leo repeated blankly, feeling like he was only getting half of a very important conversation.

"She didn't want you anywhere near the organization," Hank elaborated. "And I get it. But that didn't mean I was just gonna forget you two. Helpin' out from a distance like that, financially… Keeping you comfortable… It was the only way I could be part of your life." His beady eyes turned misty, as though he were looking into the past. His beard twitched as though beneath it he was smiling. "And Esperanza, good woman that she was… she understood that. She even… sent me pictures of you now and then. So I could see how you grew up, you know." His gaze cleared and landed on Leo, who'd somehow forgotten how to breathe properly. "She said you got my eyes, but… I think she was just bein' nice." Reyna gasped and threw a hand over her mouth, but Hank didn't seem to notice. "The way I hear it, though," he continued, puffing out his oversized chest, "you did get my skill with machinery."

Across the room, Leo's vision was swimming. He was smart enough to have put two and two together by now, but that sure as heck didn't mean accepting it was quite as easy. "You're… You're crazy," he muttered shakily.

Hank chuckled as though amused by Leo's very obvious discomfort. "I definitely got some screws loose upstairs, can't argue with you there." Then he stood up straight and his expression sobered. "…But it's the truth, all of it." His deep voice lowered quietly when he said, "You're my son, Leo. I'm your father."

Leo stared open-mouthed at Hank, feeling a little bit like he'd just been stabbed in the throat. He'd wanted answers, alright, and he'd thought he was ready for whatever this guy dropped on him. Well, so much for that assumption. A father? And a high-ranking member of Olympus, to boot? Way out of left field.

"How…?" he forced out, unable to wrap his mind around a complete sentence. "I don't… Why…?"

"Lot of questions, I know," Hank guessed. "But the main thing is, I don't want you thinkin' I didn't love her. 'Cause I did. I'd just lost my wife when I got sent down south on business and things weren't going so hot. But when I met Esperanza… Well, she helped me a lot. You know how she was. Real down to earth, and all that. She turned me round, and I fell for her. Told her everything. And then I got called back home, and that was it. Didn't even know she was pregnant 'til after I left town."

"Stop," Leo interrupted, at last finding his voice. It was like this random stranger all of a sudden knew more about his life than he did, and he didn't like it. "Just stop—stop… talking about this like it just… happened."

Hank sighed. "It did happen."

"Then why didn't I know?" Leo demanded, looking up at the man. He was surprised by how thick his voice suddenly sounded—how pained. "Why didn't she tell me?"

Hank scratched his curly beard. "I think she meant to when you were older, if she'd got the chance. But like I said, she didn't want you involved with the organization. She just wanted to protect you, kid—just did what she thought was best. Irony of ironies, though, is you sittin' right here, in the basement of Parker's building. All she wanted was to keep you safe, far away from all this. Must'a been fate, though, since you ended up getting involved anyway."

"Yeah," Leo grumbled with a scowl, irritation burning his insides like acid. "When your old boss got me arrested."

"Hey, I had no part in that," Hank said firmly, eyes hardening. "I didn't even know until it was too late. I've regretted telling Zeke about you and your mom ever since. When that man had leverage over somebody, he wasn't afraid to use it. I learned that the hard way."

"Wait." Leo could hardly believe what he was hearing. "He went back on that deal with me… because of you?"

Hank shifted his weight, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "If you're gonna be angry with me," he said carefully, "you might as well have all the reasons. What happened to your mom… That was my fault, too."

Again Reyna reached over and grabbed Leo by the wrist, but this time he wondered if it was to keep him from trying to jump out of bed and throttle the man in front of him. "What?" he said, voice as tense as a taut wire about to snap.

"The fire was no accident," Hank explained, his words seeming to bring a chill to the air. "A group we used to do business with—big falling out a bit before, whole thing was ugly—found out I'd been there. They went to her shop lookin' for information, torched the place when she wouldn't give 'em what they wanted. I made sure they got what was coming to 'em after that, you can be sure…"

He paused and glanced at Leo as though expecting a 'thank you', but none was forthcoming. Those were probably the farthest two words from Leo's mind.

"But, well," Hank went on awkwardly, "it's still my biggest regret to date. Between that and what Zeke did to you… I been wishing for years things could've gone different. I wanted to get in touch with you so many times. But I held back, respected your mom's wishes. Lot of good it did. I mean, look at you."

He gestured weakly to Leo's generally unfortunate physical state, but the vague wave felt oddly like a slap in the face. And it just made Leo angrier.

"I don't expect things to change," Hank continued when no one interrupted him. "But you deserved to know. If something had happened to you in Langley… If you hadn't come back and I'd never let you know… Well, I couldn't forgive myself. Not ever."

Something inside Leo snapped at that admission. "Oh, you came clean so you can forgive yourself?" he snarled. "Great! Go ahead! Everything's fine now that I know the truth, right?" He sensed Reyna turn and shoot him a warning look, but he didn't care. He'd had enough. He was done listening to this guy unload a lifetime's worth of grievances in some misguided attempt to make up for past mistakes. He glared fiercely at Hank and demanded, "Hey, while we're at it, any other screw-ups you want to get off your chest? That's the idea, isn't it? Say whatever it takes to make yourself feel better? Well, that's fine! Throw the pain at me if you can't deal with it anymore—"

Leo froze, throat constricting like invisible hands were trying to strangle him. His own words slammed against the inside of his skull, temporarily blinding him and bringing him to a slightly horrifying realization.

"Leo?" Reyna said tentatively, her voice low and whispery. Leo didn't respond—didn't even move. He was busy struggling with what his brain was trying to tell him.

After a long period of extremely tense silence, Hank said haltingly, "I know it don't mean much… Hell, it might mean nothin' at all. But I'm sorry."

Leo's lungs seemed to have tied themselves in a knot, but he managed to choke out, "Get out of here."

When nothing happened, Leo forced himself to look at Hank. The man was looking back at him with a pained expression—shameful, even—which somehow gave him a boost of stability to add, "I'm serious, dude. Leave."

Hank breathed out slowly, lowering his gaze to the floor. "Alright," he relented with a nod. "I'll be around a while longer, if you ever… You know."

This time Leo didn't respond, and at last Hank turned and left the room.

Reyna turned away from the door. "Leo…"

"You too," he told her without looking her way. The last few minutes had been way too much for him to process. He needed to forget about all of it for a while, and he couldn't do that with her there.

But evidently Reyna didn't agree. "No," she argued at once, her voice taking on that no-nonsense tone she typically reserved for two situations—dealing with unruly students, and forcing Leo to confront his problems. She slid to the edge of her seat and held his arm with both hands. "I'm not leaving you alone with this," she promised. "I know you. You won't face it. And I think you need to."

"That's the problem!" he blurted out, turning to face her. "I'm…" He grimaced, ice coating his insides as he admitted the observation he'd been loath to accept a second ago, "I'm just like him, Reyna."

Her brow creased in confusion. "What?"

"I'm defensive. And cold. I can't handle—" Leo faltered, voice cracking. He hated talking about his disorder more than anything. He knew logically that that reluctance was just another symptom, but it didn't change how it made him feel—weak, damaged; like something in his life was broken and rather than dwell on it he had to force himself to be happy and funny so no one—not even he—would notice. It was something he'd dealt with for years. He used to think it had developed sometime after his mother's tragedy. Never before, however, had he considered the possibility that it was something he'd inherited from his long-lost father.

And then enter Hank Beckendorf, Olympus big-shot with—apparently—a very similar problem. The man had provided a believable story and a lot of evidence, of course, but that, more than anything, proved to Leo that it was true—that he really was the son of one the organization's leaders. Inside, they were too much alike. He was connected to Olympus, alright, but in a much deeper way than he'd previously thought.

For a second he thought of Atlas and was suddenly glad the Deputy Director hadn't discovered that particular bit of information. If he had, Leo probably would've been dead weeks ago. Just another tidbit he really didn't want to think about.

When he never resumed his halting explanation, Reyna breathed out shortly. A troubled expression on her face, she got up just long enough to sit beside him on the bed and curled her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Don't you dare shut down on me," she breathed in his ear. "Not now. For a second back at the CIA last night I thought I'd lost you, and… it was terrifying, okay? I don't want to see that again."

She squeezed him tighter and the pressure aggravated his various injuries, but he'd grown so used to pain that he barely noticed. Much more important were the warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against his chest. Those were things he hadn't felt in far too long. It was effectively calming, he had to admit, despite how broken-up he'd felt mere seconds ago.

When Reyna drew back to look Leo in the eyes, he saw a touch of desperation in her expression. "I need you to talk to me," she said pleadingly. "I can't take the alternative, Leo, I really can't."

"I…" he stammered, the look on her face making him feel guilty. She was right, he needed to say something. The only problem was, he had no idea where to go from there. What was he supposed to say—supposed to think after all this?

Reyna bit her lip, shoulders drooping. "Give me that," she muttered, grabbing Leo's right hand in both of hers. She pulled at his fingers, loosening the fist he'd clenched around his lighter, and took the metallic object from his grip. He experienced a brief second of helpless loss before she lifted it between the two of them and popped the lid, flicking the hatch to ignition.

The sight of the fire burned through the fog in Leo's mind and halted his frenzied thoughts. Suddenly everything was clear. The small bit of doubt he'd held onto that none of this was real vanished and he realized just how insane his situation really was. There was no way his imagination could concoct a scene like the one he'd just witnessed with Hank. It was really happening, so what was the use in pretending it wasn't? Wouldn't his time be better spent accepting it and figuring out how to deal?

A small smile tugged at Leo's lips as he felt himself relax. He reached up and closed the lighter, glancing back to Reyna's eyes. Her gaze narrowed suspiciously, but before she could inquire he leaned forward and kissed her. He was ridiculously lucky to have her in his life—she always seemed to know exactly what to do. If it wasn't for her, he had a feeling he'd have gone crazy a long, long time ago.

"Okay," she admitted with a half-smile as they separated. "Point taken. Not talking is good, too."

Leo sat up straight and took a deep breath, wincing as his pain shot across his ribcage. Just another reminder that despite the good that had happened in the past few hours, he still had a lot of bad to deal with.

When he turned back to look at Reyna, she was watching him patiently, waiting for his cue to resume their conversation. Locking eyes with her, he said resolutely, "My mother… was involved with Olympus long before I was."

She nodded. "Yes, she was."

"She lied about it to protect me."

"She did."

"But now that I know the truth… I can't run from them anymore. They're… a part of me. They always have been, and they always will be. And that's okay."

Reyna smiled, pride in her eyes. "Yeah, it is. It is okay." She scooted closer and pulled him into another slightly-painful-yet-totally-worth-it hug, saying over his shoulder, "We'll figure this out. Together."

Leo grinned in spite of all the reasons he had to be miserable. "Yeah."

"But I'm telling you," Reyna went on diplomatically as she pulled back. "I've spent some time here. Olympus isn't what we thought, not anymore. We don't have to hate them."

"I know," Leo admitted. To his slight surprise, he meant it—already when he thought of Olympus a few emotions other than anger sprang immediately to mind. That was a good start. "It's just gonna take some getting used to."

Reyna handed Leo his lighter, and as he took it back a cool sort of electricity seemed to spark across his skin. Staring at its scuffed bronze surface, he thought back on the past few years of his life—how he and Reyna had become somewhat comfortable in Detroit, each settled into their respective careers (double careers, in his case). It hit him then that that time was over and done with. Even if they evaded or even defeated Atlas and the CIA, he was more wanted now than ever before. They couldn't go back, not ever.

"Everything's different now, huh?" he said, voice turning somber.

Reyna's smile faded. "Everything was already different," she responded. "The second Thalia and Annabeth showed up on our doorstep, our lives were never gonna be the same again. But… that doesn't have to be a bad thing. You realize what you have now, right?"

He looked up, forcing some humor into his expression. "An addiction to muscle relaxant?"

She smacked his uninjured shoulder. "A family."

As they both glanced over at the door, where Hank had been standing until a few minutes ago, he realized she was right. Olympus was a family—his family, now that he fully understood his own past. Sure, the whole situation was bizarre. Things wouldn't make sense right away, maybe not for a long time. But the fact that Hank had tried to reach out to him—that was something, at least. It had to be.

He'd never minded it just being him and Reyna before. But when Leo thought about the people who'd risked everything to save him… Well, maybe expanding his definition of 'family' wouldn't be such a bad thing.

With a grin he set his lighter on the table beside his bed and pulled Reyna into another embrace—just because they hadn't seen each other in a while and had some serious quality time to catch up on. He made a silent promise to himself not to scare her anymore, and also to try and repay her team of rescuers for what they did for him. He may have been confined to that bed for a while, but that didn't mean he was totally useless. Besides, it wasn't like he had a job to get back to anymore.

And as for things with his lost-and-found dad—it was completely crazy, sure. But he would learn to deal with it somehow. One way or another, he always did.

Every time I write Leo and Reyna in this universe, I think about doing a spin-off book just about them since they're so fun... I'm nuts.

So that's that. These two will be sticking around, of course, but the remaining chapters are all from either Percy or Annabeth's POV. This started with them, and it's gonna end with them.

So like I said Monday, I'm out of town on business all next week. I'm gonna probably take my laptop and see if I have some evening hotel time to work on this, but if not then expect at least two weeks before the next update. This is a decent pausing point I feel like, though, with the next climactic battle just around the corner.

How 'bout a review? Predictable chapter, I know, but I had to put it out there, haha.

Later days!

-oMM