18 TiH: Our willingness to wait reveals the value we place on the object we're waiting for
Leo tossed the beater screwdriver to one side with a groan of frustration. The letter from the previous day- folded back into its original square- nestled deeply in his pocket. He glanced about Nico's room, feeling vaguely out of place. He knew Nico wouldn't mind him being in the small room. At least, he hoped the son of Hades wouldn't mind. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that it felt wrong to be there when the other demigod wasn't.
Leo sighed and ran a finger through his curls, his usual impish smile missing from his face. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. He thought that this corner would have been perfect for the surprise. But, it was proving to be cumbersome and, Leo thought, not at all worth the struggle. Perhaps he could find a different way to help Nico?
The son of Hephaestus shook his head, already disagreeing with himself. He couldn't give up now. He scowled at the jumble of materials in front of him. Leo pushed himself onto his knees and then rose to his feet, crossing to the desk. He traced a finger down the set of prints lying on the surface, tapping them in thought. Why couldn't he get this right?
The idea had been to build Nico a fountain. So he wouldn't have to keep using that damn spray bottle with a crappy connection just so he could continue his therapy with Mr. D. But, so far, all Leo had done was divert water from the bathroom across the hall to a corner of Nico's bedroom and make an ugly mess of pipes.
The demigod rubbed furiously at his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that his pounding headache would recede.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
The saying echoed through Leo's mind in his Aunt Rosa's voice. She had always had her littles platitudes and proverbs and quotes. She would spout them off with an imperious look. Leo had thought this one was especially funny. When he had laughed at it- imagining everyone getting horses as wishes because he didn't actually understand what the saying meant at the tender age of four- she had glared at him. Her eyes glittered with malice as she told him, "Wicked littles boys burn when they die. Away from their mommies. Away from God. Away from everything good and right."
She had raised a devilish eyebrow and gazed down at him hatefully. "And you're the worst of them, aren't you? Sure as the sun rises, you'll go straight to Hell. Diablo."
Leo's hand stopped tapping against the plans and shook as he tried to rid himself of the memory. What good was dwelling in the past? No. Better to focus on the here and now.
And the here and now was a project that was failing to come together. Leo smoothed his hand across the page before pulling out the chair and plopping himself down into the seat. He reached for a pen and uncapped it before making several adjustments to the schematics before him.
Leo leaned against Festus and watched as the kids traipsed back into the center, Miles entering last. The little boy looked back and waved one last time before letting the door shut behind him. Leo sighed heavily and fingered the letter in his pocket. It was already Thursday. When was Nico going to try to get in touch with him again? Leo shivered as the temperature dropped.
"Cute kids, am I right?"
Leo jerked and fell sideways away from the voice that spoke from his right. He hissed as his hip cracked against the pavement. His palms stung from the impact. Leo looked up and scowled.
A woman with brown hair- more bushy than curly- stared down at him from where she leaned against Festus. She looked to be about thirty and crossed her arms stubbornly in front of her body. She was dressed simply in khaki cargo pants and a black shirt emblazoned with a slime-green-lettered slogan that read: "I just EVP'd my pants."
"Need a hand up, Slick?" The woman uncrossed her hands and offered one to Leo. He sniffed and pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the proffered help.
He brushed the dirt from his pants and took a moment to compose himself before looking quizzically back at the woman. "Did you need something?"
The woman dropped her hand back to her side and smiled. The son of Hephaestus' eyes caught on her sharp canines- she looked like a wolf grinning at its dinner. "I just wanted to see the guy my kids can't stop talking about."
Leo's eyebrows rose until they almost joined his hairline, and, finally relaxing, he smiled back. "Sorry! I didn't realize you had kiddos in the program!" Leo stuck his hand out. "I'm Leo."
She glanced down at his hand and her grin grew even wider. "You're Leonidas, huh?" She looked him up and down and nodded to herself. "Where's the other one? Nico, was it?"
Leo shrugged. "Family stuff. Had to go on a trip with his brother."
The woman's eyes gleamed. "You don't say?" She looked over to the center and then back at Leo. "So, what made you want to work here? With these kids? Why not volunteer at a school or something?"
Leo shrugged. "Just figured the kids here could use some direction, you know? Kids need something stable when they lose their homes. At least, that's what my experience has taught me."
"Hm." The woman kept her gaze fixed on Leo, grin fading until only a slight smirk graced her lips. An uncomfortable silence grew as she studied Leo, who shifted awkwardly beneath the scrutiny.
"I should get going. Got lots to do today- chores to finish, projects to start."
She raised an eyebrow. "Of course. I wouldn't want to keep you from anything important."
Leo smiled, unsure if her tone was mocking or simply appeasing.
"Well," he started. "It was nice meeting you."
She nodded and grinned again, predatory and threatening. She raised her hand in a mock salute before turning smartly on her heel and striding away- not toward Dayspring but in the direction of the road.
Leo shook his head and ambled on top of Festus, realizing that he had forgotten to ask just which kids were hers.
Leo fed Festus a mixture of Tabasco sauce and motor oil at the Waystation, rubbing the dragon down with a wire metal brush. He patted Festus as he went, murmuring praises and tapping out messages in Morse code until the dragon's bronze glowed.
Dinner was a quiet affair. With both Lit and Nico gone, the normal banter at the table seemed to ring hollow to Leo.
Why? It's not like Nico's always been around. There was life before him. It shouldn't feel this way.
Even when Lit had been gone before, it hadn't felt like something so vast was missing. Not until Nico had left too.
Leo scowled down at his plate and pushed a pea and chutney risotto around the ceramic surface until it formed several small mountains and canyons.
"Leo? Everything good?"
The son of Hephaestus looked up. Jo gazed at him, her warm brown eyes glinting with worry.
He smiled. "Everything's fine. I'm just a bit tired."
Emmie pushed her chair out. Standing, she crossed to Leo and slid her hand across his forehead. She held it in place for a moment before pulling back and frowning. "You don't have a fever. Maybe you're just doing too much?"
Shrugging, Leo set his fork down. "Eh. Could be. I'll lie down after I do the dishes. Don't worry."
Jo waved her hand through the air and swallowed the bite she had been chewing. "Nonsense. I'll help Olujime with dishes tonight. Then, if you're feeling better later this week, you can do them with Cal on Sunday. No big deal."
Leo hesitated but then nodded his head in agreement. "Thanks, Jo."
Leo pushed his chair back from the table and picked up his plate, crossing behind the kitchen counter to place it gently by the sink. His head throbbed with the beginnings of a headache. Waving over his shoulder to the group, Leo reached the stairs and climbed them to his room.
Once he closed the door behind him, he glanced at his desk, covered with blueprints and schematics. He really should be working on any number of projects. He was behind on improvements for the Waystation, he was slacking on soliciting donations from local charities and nonprofits for Dayspring, he hadn't gotten any further with planning Nico's surprise fountain. Even the clothes he had washed the previous day were dropped in a haphazard pile of the only "clean" corner in his room.
He sighed heavily and threw himself unceremoniously onto his bunk. The son of Hephaestus hugged his pillow to his body, trying to fight the worry in his stomach. Another sigh escaped his mouth and he flipped onto his back, shoving the pillow underneath his head.
He stared up into the dark shadow of the underside of the top bunk, willing another letter to come through. He stayed like that for several minutes before drifting off to sleep. So it was that he didn't notice a note, crumpled and slightly smoking on the edges, drifting from the shadows and onto his covers.
Leo woke with a start, hands reaching out to grab a mother who no longer lived. He scrubbed at the tears on his face in frustration. As he shifted, he heard the rustling of paper- not blanket. Frowning, he patted the covers until his hand came upon what hadn't been there when he fell asleep- what he had been waiting for. A quiet smile broke over his face until he noticed the blackened edges.
A small knot formed in his stomach and he quickly unfolded the note.
Leo,
Hope you're not still filling the kids' heads with lies about how you're better than me. Tell Celia and Miles (and everyone else) I miss them.
Can't use Iris messages anymore. Think I might have a solution, though. Try to be at this spot at 9:00 tomorrow night. And make sure you have a pen.
Give Festus some tabasco from me.
Nico
Leo scanned the letter. Once he realized that Nico had made no mention of danger or gave any clues as to why the letter would be burned on the edges, he read back through the message more slowly.
The knot of worry that had settled in his stomach eased, eagerness readily taking its place. The possibility of somehow communicating with Nico the following day brought a smile to his face. The fact that Nico wanted to talk to him made him grin.
Leo realized he was looking forward to the next day for the first time since Nico had left with Zagreus on Halloween. He folded the letter and placed it under his pillow as he settled back to sleep once more, his fingers gently touching the paper as if to remind himself it was real.
"Our willingness to wait reveals the value we place on the object we're waiting for." ~Charles Stanley