Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians

This fic would not have existed without the encouragement of Stereden, who has also done a podfic of it, which can be found in its AO3 crosspost /works/57201739 or on my tumblr tsarisfanfiction!

Warmth surged through Lee, the sun blindingly bright as it rose, unhindered by any cloud despite the approaching storm of Typhon. His eyes hurt, but he was a child of Apollo and bright light didn't blind him, not even this. Not even the first rays of sun in over a year. It was soothing and violent at the same time, tearing through Lee and chasing away aches, pains, and anything else that wasn't important right then.

The only important thing was Michael.

Lee threw himself forwards, uncaring about bare feet on a shattered bridge, or golden eyes that found him as he moved, fingertips snagging his falling brother by the back of his armour and heaving with strength he hadn't known he still had, with wrists that shouldn't be able to hold much weight but found the weight of his brother easy, and tugging him back, back onto the precarious edge of the bridge and into his arms, wrapping himself around him and breaking his fall onto the asphalt of the bridge.

Lee's body should probably have felt pain at the collision, but there was nothing, nothing except the warmth of Michael in his arms, his younger brother painfully still and unmoving.

"No, " Lee breathed desperately, forcing himself into a sitting position and groping for the first pulse point he could reach, fingers pressed firmly against the side of Michael's throat. "No, no, no- "

The chest of his armour was caved in, concave instead of slightly convex, and Michael's ribs had to be cracked at best. Lee prayed that was all it was as his fingers found the dull thud thud thud of a pulse, not as strong as he'd like but at least there. He forced himself to pull away and instead used his fingers to fumble awkwardly at the straps of Michael's armour, hearing the uneasy wheezing of his breath, seeing small red stains on his lips, and knowing without having to investigate that there was a punctured lung.

Cold laughter dragged his unwilling attention over the chasm that had formed in the bridge, where Kronos was standing, tip of his sword resting casually against the asphalt and a cocky, cruel grin on his face.

"Hello, Lee," he said. "I see you decided to leave, after all."

Arms full of injured little brother, Lee sent a glower his way even as he tossed Michael's damaged armour out of the way and pressed his splayed hand to the dented chest of his little brother. Beneath his hand, Michael's chest rose and fell awkwardly, desperately trying to pull in enough oxygen.

"Go to Tartarus," he snapped, vaguely aware of Percy watching him, but having better things to do right then than explain everything to the son of Poseidon – like saving his brother.

He blocked out the other taunts, other things said by Luke's mouth in Kronos' voice, and grasped for the warmth swelling inside him. There was a lot, so much that it was overwhelming in its presence after being absent for so long, but wrangling it felt like second nature, the same way it always had done, as he picked a hymn and sang.

The warmth of the sun, of the sun god, responded easily, flowing like it had never gone, out through his hand and into his brother's broken body.

Michael was unconscious, or as close to that it made no difference. Lee couldn't really tell but unconscious felt better, if only because it meant that Michael wasn't awake enough to be in pain from a broken chest and straining lungs still trying to keep him alive while his skeleton betrayed him and his organs threatened to give up entirely. The healing warmth danced through the two of them, where Lee's hand rested on his chest, and a second warmth faintly flickered against him, because Apollo had more than one child and they all benefited from the power of the sun.

Michael's healing had always been impressive. Injuries healed in half the time or less, depending on the severity, and Lee had never been more thankful for it than now, as his brother's natural healing responded to his healing hymns, the two strains of healing power linking together and strengthening each other, causing enough of a positive feedback loop that Lee felt the broken bones in Michael's chest shift, extracting themselves from the delicate membrane of his lung and giving it enough strength to patch itself up, keeping blood out and air in.

His brother didn't wake but his breathing eased slightly, no longer wet and sending strikes of terror straight into Lee's heart. Bones shifted around a little bit more, but even bolstered by the sun and Michael's own healing, Lee wasn't a miracle worker that could fix everything with a single hymn and concentration.

He could stabilise, could bring his brother back from the brink of death, but he couldn't wake him up, couldn't reverse his body back to how it had been before.

All he could do was hope, and try, and cradle Michael's less-broken body in his arms and try not to cry at how close he'd come to losing him.

At some point, Kronos had left, and Lee didn't know what that meant, except that he wasn't getting past the broken bridge any time soon so his siblings were safe from any more immediate attacks, and he would gladly take that.

Percy, on the other hand, hadn't left, which Lee was also okay with, because the son of Poseidon also needed a break, but he was talking on a cell phone with someone, with loud, panicked responses before he snapped it shut aggressively.

Lee found his arm being grabbed and tugged, and tightened his grip on Michael, sending Percy an unimpressed look, although it faltered a little bit in the face of what was clearly panic. Whatever had been said on the phone, it hadn't been a good thing.

"Annabeth's dying," Percy said, and there was a plea hidden somewhere in the words but it was mostly just a frantic garble. "She needs a healer, now. " He tugged at Lee again, and Lee appreciated that for once he wasn't being pushed through the you're dead routine, but he didn't appreciate anything else about the situation.

"I won't be any good," he said, "and I'm not leaving Michael."

"But, you just-" Percy flailed, gesturing to Michael with the hand not gripping Lee's arm. Lee held his brother tighter.

"That wiped me out," he told him. "I'm running on empty, Percy. If Michael didn't have his own healing abilities, I wouldn't have been able to save him." It felt like that should have been terrifying, a what if where he couldn't save his brother, except Michael's healing was such an ingrained part of him that there was no version of Lee that could panic over what if.

"I've seen you do more," Percy argued, and Lee shook his head.

"I know," he said, and hated how bitter he sounded. How angry he was, at Kronos, for cutting him so far away from the sun that he could hardly help people any more, even with the sun now finally seeping through his veins again. "Things have happened since then. Take Will," he added, as an offering before Percy could explode at him.

Will would be safe with Percy, the pegasus had flown towards Olympus, which meant Annabeth wasn't being treated near the front line at the moment, which meant that whichever healer went would be safer than staying at the bridge.

Not that Lee intended on letting any of his siblings continue to linger around this bridge, not after Kronos had attacked it, but moving all of them – plus Nathan and Michael, most crucially – when the roads were jammed with idling or crashed cars was going to take some logistics. Giving Will a head start, even though he knew his little brother would hate it, was only logical.

Lee didn't know if Percy understood all of the logic behind his thought process, but after one last unhappy look at Lee, he moved, turning and running down the bridge, leaving Lee and the unconscious Michael alone.

Will was not going to like being taken away, Lee knew that, and he did feel guilty about foisting the health of at least one injured camper onto his younger brother, but Will was both their best healer, and also pretty much their worst fighter. He needed to be somewhere that wasn't on the front lines.

Speaking of the front lines…

Lee sighed. He didn't know how many bodies strong the Ares cabin was anymore, with his own cabin down on expected numbers, but even a handful of Ares fighters would make a massive difference. The campers were crippled without them – and also Kronos knew they weren't there and was taking advantage of it, no doubt.

He owed Kronos a hard time or several.

Luckily, Michael had drachma on him, hopefully for communication purposes that weren't using stolen mortal phones as monster-attracting beacons, and while Lee didn't want to put his brother down, he couldn't use it whilst holding him. Lee laid him down gently before forcing himself to his feet again.

The problem with Iris Messaging was how elusive rainbows could be. All demigods – experienced ones, at least – knew how to search for them, where they were most likely to occur, but it was always a bit of hit-and-miss luck. But rainbows needed two things – light, and water droplets – and right now, Lee had both.

Water was still falling from the cables from where Percy had turned the river into a geyser, and the sun was shining brightly, arguably too brightly for that time in the morning, even if it was summer. Lee thanked Apollo for it, not knowing if it was intentional or not but not really caring either way, either.

It was still a little exhilarating to know that his dad could finally hear him again.

The rainbow was still weak, the water not really regular or steady enough to properly sustain it, and Lee tossed the coin in, reciting the ingrained prayer as he did so.

"Clarisse at Camp Half-Blood."

The girl that shimmered into view looked grumpy, to say the least. Lee was certain that she didn't actually like holding herself back from a battle, and her siblings likely weren't impressed, either. She and Michael really did bring out the worst in each other, often to their own detriment.

Then she caught sight of him, and her eyes widened before her scowl set in deeper .

"Clarisse," he said, before she could say anything – or worse, cut the connection. Michael had a few more drachma but Lee didn't really want to keep wasting them on calling her again and again until she listened. "What the Hades are you doing?"

"Fletcher is dead," she sneered, and Lee was getting really tired of hearing it. It was a painful reminder that there had been a funeral and everything. Hearing Clarisse use his surname when she usually called him Lee was an extra sharp twinge. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Not so dead," he said. "Kronos decided I would be useful to him." It had caught Michael's attention, Lee was willing to bet it would catch Clarisse's, too. He raised his arm until his wrist was visible, still deliberately not looking at the state of it.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Why."

And that was the thing, wasn't it. With almost no-one knowing about his ability, no-one would understand why Kronos had wanted him. Lee had spent most of his life keeping it hidden, not wanting people to look at him, using him as a lie detector or simply uncomfortable because they knew he could tell even their whitest of lies, holding the knowledge that Lee could ruin any of their lies at any time, if he thought it was necessary.

It had been exhausting enough in small doses, back when he'd first worked it out and hadn't yet learnt to keep it hidden. He didn't want to go back to that.

Kronos, he was quickly realising, was going to give him no choice.

But Lee could still choose when, within reason, and over an IM was never going to be it, not as long as he could choose.

"Not over IM," he said, knowing that sounded suspicious but unwilling to compromise on it. "Clarisse, you're needed in Manhattan."

"I'm not coming," Clarisse said, shortly. "That short bastard can manage without-"

"Michael's down," Lee interrupted her. "Kronos decided it was personal." He didn't know exactly why Kronos had targeted Michael, what particular grievance he had – whether it was to hurt Lee, or because of the chariot, or even because it had been Michael's call to break the bridge – but it was unmistakable that he had gone straight for Michael, not Percy and not Lee, either.

Her eyes widened, and Lee wouldn't say she looked worried, but she definitely looked shaken by the news.

"Michael's dead?" she asked. Lee swallowed, and glanced back at his unmoving brother, well aware that she could see the movement, and would take it for what it was.

"Not quite," he said. "But he won't be able to fight in this battle anymore." Not with those ribs, not when he was an archer before he was anything else. He would try, if given half the chance, once he woke up, but he couldn't. Not really.

Something hardened in Clarisse's face. "Where are you," she demanded, and Lee didn't know what, exactly, had changed her mind, but whatever it was, he was grateful for it.

"Williamsburg Bridge," he said. "Or what's left of it."

She nodded, once, curt and sharp. "Be there," she ordered. "And if you're not Lee, I will make you regret it."

Lee had to smile at that. "I'll be here," he promised. "And I expect nothing less."

She slashed through the message, sending her image scattering into multiple rainbow fragments, and vanished. Lee sighed.

It would take her some time to get to the bridge; they were on the eastern edge of Manhattan, the closest side to camp, so it would be faster than if they were on another bridge, over on the western edge, but it would still take time. An hour or so, at least. It depended how she was planning on travelling.

She hadn't said if she was coming alone or bringing her cabin. Lee hoped they all came, both a show of strength and also enough to poke a rather large spanner into Kronos' plans – something he couldn't prepare for, because Silena didn't know about this, either, so she couldn't tattle. Knowing Clarisse, though, it could be either.

In the meantime, he had multiple siblings to look after, to corral and plan with. Kronos had gone but Lee didn't know how long for. If he'd said anything, Lee had been too busy saving Michael to hear and Percy hadn't bothered to tell him.

Footsteps, closer to stomps, caught his attention behind him, loud enough to be deliberate, and he turned to see his sister walking up the bridge towards him.

Joy was the second eldest, after Michael, that Lee had seen. He didn't know where the other, older ones were, the ones his age. He almost didn't want to know.

"Percy said Michael was hit," she signed as she got close enough for Lee to pick the movement of her hands out. His ASL was a little rusty from a year of disuse, but it flooded back to him quickly enough, especially when she twisted the three bent fingers of an M into a sideways jerk, like she was drawing back a bow. "How is he?"

Lee looked down at him. "Broken ribs," he said. "Crush damage to his chest. His lung isn't punctured anymore but there isn't much else I can do for him. What about everyone else?"

She came up next to him and sat down, putting her own hand lightly on Michael's chest for a moment. Joy was hardly a healer at all, but she'd been a camper long enough to pick up plenty of first aid from the rest of them regardless. Enough to be able to make her own judgement call on their brother's condition.

It was with a clear reluctance that she brought her hand back up to continue to sign. If she hadn't been vocalising all night, maybe she might have used her voice to give Lee a report now, but her voice had been hoarse enough last time she'd spoken. Lee didn't want to think how much it would rasp in her throat now.

"Nathan's alive," she signed, the N of his name sign a spiky jerk down, because Michael wasn't the only prickly Apollo kid sometimes. "Percy took Will, said you said to." She gave him a questioning look at that, and Lee nodded.

"I did," he said. "Will's the best at healing, and he needs to be away from the front lines."

Joy nodded in agreement. "He is, and he does," she agreed, then gestured towards Michael. "Should we move him, or Nathan?" It was an important question, because the cabin needed to regroup into a single spot, and both sections had injured.

But also – Clarisse was coming, and she was coming here. Lee needed to be here, and he also needed to not be separated from his cabin.

"Unless Robyn disagrees, see if you can get Nathan here," he said. "She'll know better than me his current situation, but with his broken ribs I don't want to move Michael if I can help it. I only just got his lungs unpunctured."

Joy nodded again. "He should be moveable," she signed. "I'll check with Robyn, but she didn't say anything about broken bones. Just…" Her hands trailed down, emphasising all the missing bits of body far more clearly than anything she could have constructed with her fingers.

Lee winced.

"I'll stay here," he promised, and she nodded.

"You owe us an explanation," she told him, her signs jagged and pointed. "But all of us. Together."

"You'll get it," Lee said, grateful she wasn't going to push him to tell it multiple times. "When we're together."

"I'm holding you to that," she said, and her voice was raspy, but as always when Joy spoke, the truth rang out. It wasn't quite a threat, because it didn't need to be, but Lee understood anyway.

Thanks for reading!
Tsari