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!

This chapter has a brief scene featuring suicide ideation from a depressed character, please take care!

Getting Michael to the chariot when it returned for him was entertaining. Michael had never liked being carried around – Lee remembered more than one occasion where he'd been injured and kicked up a massive fuss even when there wasn't any alternative to moving him – and today was no exception.

If Lee could've carried him, he would, but no-one was going to let him, sending pointed looks at his bandaged wrists and ankles when he even suggested it. Chris didn't even offer, even though he could have done, but Michael was scarcely acknowledging him anyway, so Lee could see why he hadn't.

It was quickly becoming apparent that most of the camp hadn't actually forgiven Chris for his year working for Kronos, even if they begrudgingly accepted him as a camper again, and Lee found himself worrying a little about what that meant for him and Tris, technically also returnees from Kronos' army even if they'd never joined in the first place.

Although in Michael's case, it was just as likely that he was snubbing Chris because he was dating Clarisse. Lee suspected it was a mixture of the two, although when Chris insisted on helping Lee walk, despite the fact his feet were now treated and he had shoes, there was a grudging respect flickering in Michael's eyes, so perhaps all was not quite lost there.

It was Jake that picked him up, the only option left – Robyn and Tris were both taller than Michael, too, but both of them were skinny and wiry and not really strong enough to keep Michael steady as they moved. Michael grumbled a little, but didn't openly protest, hopefully aware enough of the fragile state of his ribcage to know that trying to physically fight wouldn't end well for him.

No-one told him it had been Clarisse that had carried him in. Lee was pretty certain no-one was ever going to tell him.

Still, even with Jake's care, as Lee followed him out of the hotel, Chris on one side of him and Tris pressed against the other, being moved clearly hurt Michael. Hisses of pain escaped from between clenched teeth, and small beads of sweat started to appear at his hairline, not quite hidden by the hair that had partially escaped his hairstyle and was hanging partially over his forehead.

It didn't help that there were other demigods around that weren't asleep. Thankfully, Clarisse wasn't one of them – that confrontation would've been ill-timed – but while the awake demigods were moving around, doing their own things in preparation for the retreat to their new front line, eyes still found Michael.

And Lee.

Clearly what had been revealed at the head counsellor meeting that morning had spread like wildfire. Lee wasn't surprised – camp was a veritable rumour mill at the best of times – but it made him uneasy, not knowing how many of them trusted him, anymore. Not knowing how many of the eyes on him were suspicious, rather than pleased to see him.

He hoped at least some of them were happy that he was back.

It wasn't difficult to spot the Aphrodite campers. They appeared to be sleeping in shifts in the foyer of the hotel, and Drew had clearly shared the bad news with them. Most of them looked like they'd been crying; some had attempted to cover the signs up with make-up, but it didn't look like their hearts had been in it, because it hardly did the job at all.

Drew was still awake, sitting in one of the chairs like it was her throne. She hadn't done anything about her broken nails, but that and her slightly dusty armour were the only imperfections in her appearance. Anything else had been tightened and neatened up, leaving her almost looking like she hadn't spent the previous night fighting.

It was impressive, really.

Her dark eyes, surrounded by mascara and sheltering beneath pink eyeshadow, locked onto Michael as he was carried outside. Lee couldn't read her expression, behind the make-up and the carefully blank look, but she seemed intent on him regardless.

Then her gaze flickered over to Lee, instead, not drifting towards his visible bandages like most people seemed to, but watching his face. What she was looking for, he didn't know. He didn't know if she found it, either.

Technically, there wasn't room for all of them in the chariot, but they made do. Robyn refused to be left behind to walk, and when Lee suggested he stay behind, it was immediately shot down by everyone.

He listened because one of them was Michael, who was making it clear in his own way that he needed Lee's presence, at least for a little longer, and who was Lee to deny him that?

It was a short journey. They only bothered lifting off because the roads were still jammed with idling cars, so the chariot wouldn't have been able to trundle along the streets. Clearly, a landing strip had been cleared in front of the entrance to the Empire State Building, because cars were haphazardly pushed together to leave a deliberate gap that looked out of place compared to the rest of the idling cars. Those cars also weren't idling, as though their ignitions had all been turned off.

The pegasi landed with practiced ease, and Robyn hopped out as soon as they were stationary, reaching back to help Tris off. Chris caught Lee before he could jump out himself and helped him with the step down. His ankles still jarred a little bit, but he shot Chris a grateful smile.

By the time Jake had disembarked, a still unimpressed Michael in his arms, Robyn had forged her way into the foyer, leaving the door forcibly open so Jake could carry Michael in without issue.

Inside was chaos. Organised chaos, because Lee's siblings had years of practice organising treatment centres between them, but chaos nonetheless. The walking wounded didn't seem particularly happy about being relocated – most of them clearly thought they were still fit to fight on the front lines, rather than being the defensive line, and Joy was being talked over as she tried to get them to settle down and listen.

His sister was looking very frustrated as her hands flew around, jagged movements that emphasised just how irritated she was getting with them. Lee almost went over to sort it out himself, even though he knew not everyone was going to listen to him, either, but then Robyn barged in, hands on hips and snapping back, and he could acknowledge that it was all under control.

Will was the better healer, and had more infirmary experience, but Robyn was older. Lee suspected they'd been tag-teaming the responsibility of the infirmary between them – Michael wouldn't have just handed it to them, when it was technically his responsibility as the head counsellor, but also Michael was terrible at healing and everyone knew it. Even if he was technically in charge, Robyn and Will would've been the ones handling the practical side of it.

Still, if Michael had been a little less injured and capable of escaping Jake's hold, he certainly would've stormed straight over in much the same way as Robyn to rescue Joy from misbehaving patients.

As it was, he was carried past the scene with a frustrated growl, towards the elevator. The doorman that usually guarded it had gone, probably showing a sense of self-preservation. Lee didn't blame them.

It made it a lot easier to get to Olympus, though. Chris didn't come with them, quietly telling Lee that he was going back to the hotel and catching that nap he'd promised. He could've napped on Olympus, but Lee recognised that he wanted to get back to Clarisse.

Lee hoped the Ares cabin made it before nightfall, for Clarisse's peace of mind as much as the need for the bulk of their front line fighters.

The elevator up to Olympus was familiar enough to Lee. He'd visited several times over the years – the only times he'd ever met his father in person – and the elevator music was different every time. Usually it was pop of some sort. This time it wasn't, and Lee wasn't really sure what to think of the fact it had chosen to play one of Holst's Planets this time – specifically Mars, Bringer of War.

It almost felt pointed, given that Lee now knew that the Roman gods also existed in some capacity.

When the elevator doors opened onto Olympus, they were greeted by one of the minor goddesses. Lee didn't recognise which one, exactly, but when she gestured for them to follow her, there wasn't really a way to say no.

"The injured are in Lord Apollo's shrine," she told them. "We cannot assist you directly, but my sisters and I have ensured the area is as appropriate for healing as possible." Jake didn't seem surprised, but then he had already carried Nathan and Ignacy up.

Lee sent a grateful thought to his father for the use of his shrine as they hurried up the slope. Apollo had several shrines in Olympus, as well as his palace. The palace was too far from the entrance to be convenient, but the shrine they were led to was close enough, whilst out of the direct line between the entrance and the throne room. He hoped the fighting wouldn't reach Olympus itself, but if it did, it was reassuring to know that Will and the injured wouldn't be directly in Kronos' path.

Will was talking to another goddess as they arrived, wide-eyed and reverent. Lee assumed she was one of the other sisters, and tried to think which sisters they might be part of. There were several, amongst the minor goddesses, although the obvious ones were the Muses.

The Muses weren't healers, though.

Jake didn't wait for direction before putting Michael down on the cot – there were actual cots – next to the blond mop of hair belonging to Nathan.

Lee barely noticed the son of Hephaestus crossing the area to his own brother, because Nathan moved, and immediately he put himself in between Michael and Nathan – not to separate them, despite their occasional arguments, but so he could see both of them at once. Tris followed him, looking at Nathan with wide eyes.

Nathan was a wreck. He'd clearly been awake long enough to realise his arm was gone, because he was glaring at the sky and pointedly not looking at it.

"Either Will is also dead, or he was telling the truth and you're alive," his brother said, not looking at him. His voice was hoarse, as though he'd screamed it raw. Lee didn't want to know if that had happened while he was being torn apart, or after, when he'd woken up to discover that he had been torn apart. It was also flat, and unimpressed.

"We're alive," Lee told him. "All of us." He didn't reach out to touch him. Nathan's body was stiff, likely in pain but possibly something else as well. Michael wasn't the only one that could have a temper, if he was riled. Part of Lee thought that putting the two of them next to each other might prove to be a mistake.

"Will also said you saved me," Nathan continued, still not looking at him. He didn't sound thankful, and his red-rimmed eyes were flat and lifeless. "Why?"

Lee winced. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked. "You're my brother, Nathan, and I'm sorry I was so late."

"You shouldn't have done." That hurt, and Lee's eyes welled up with tears. "That was selfish."

Gods. Lee felt tears welling up in his eyes, and grabbed for Tris when his younger brother tried to lunge for Nathan and give him a hug. It had worked with Michael, it had helped Lee.

Right then, it would just make Nathan tear into Tris, too, and Lee couldn't let it happen.

He couldn't apologise, either. He hoped that once the shock wore off, once Nathan started to heal, he'd understand. Hopefully, he'd be willing to try to heal, in time. Because Lee couldn't apologise for saving his brother's life, even if that did make him selfish.

On his other side, Michael snarled quietly. Lee considered getting him moved, because Will did not need to be dealing with an argument between their two volatile brothers on top of the rest of his stress. Leaving him in charge of the worst injured, away from the fighting, made sense from a practical point of view, but it was a lot of responsibility to put on a thirteen-year-old boy.

"Michael," he warned lowly, looking back at him, away from Nathan. He looked frustrated, but he was also looking at Nathan in confusion, like their younger brother was a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out. His eyes flicked up and down, before they widened in horror.

Lee snatched a quick glance back at Nathan, trying to follow Michael's eyeline, and had his own moment of dawning horror before there was movement in his periphery and Michael was trying to sit up.

None of them had told him how Nathan was injured. They'd told him that it was bad, but no details, because Michael had had other things to worry about – Kronos, and then himself – and Michael had clearly just spotted the bandaged shoulder.

More specifically, the lack of an arm.

Nathan was left-handed, and it was a small blessing that it was his right arm that was gone, as much as there could be any silver linings to the situation, so he still had his dominant arm, but… Nathan was an archer, and his right arm was his bow arm.

A glance back at Michael showed that he'd gone white, and his chest was rising and falling faster, which had to be excruciating with his injuries. Michael was an archer, too, before he was anything else – he and Nathan had always had that in common. Losing an arm, being unable to even hold his bow, would be one of his worst nightmares.

And now he was watching his younger brother go through exactly that. Michael and Nathan clashed a lot, both headstrong and a little too cocky in their skills, sometimes – Michael was the better archer, they both knew it, Nathan didn't like it – but despite that, Michael viewed Nathan as family. Lee knew he did, the same way he knew that to Michael, he had no mortal family at all, despite that legally not being the case. Legally, he had a mother, a stepfather, and a handful of half-siblings from his mother, but Michael acknowledged none of them.

Michael was picky, about family. Prickly about it, too, but when he added someone to the list, they were his and woe and betide anyone or anything that hurt his family, because Michael had Apollo's temper and Apollo's vengeance as well as Apollo's love, and that was sometimes a dangerous combination.

Lee decided he didn't need to separate them, after all.

"Michael, stop that."

Will strode over, looking both delighted that Michael was awake and also fuming that Michael was doing stupid things like trying to move with broken ribs. The goddess he'd been talking to had disappeared.

"Will-"

"No," Will snapped, hands landing on Michael's shoulders and firmly but carefully persuading him to lay back down again. Michael wasn't a good patient at the best of times, but Will had the magic touch with him – a perk of being Michael's first little brother, Lee knew. Will got away with all sorts of things that their other siblings didn't stand a chance with.

Then again, Will got away with all sorts of things with Lee, too, if he was honest. He was just the right mix of sweet and unbearably stubborn to manage it. It usually wasn't worth the fight – and if he was in a sweet mood, he was well behaved, anyway.

"You have broken ribs, Michael," their brother scolded. "And they are bad. If you puncture your lungs again I will let you suffocate."

He wouldn't actually. At least, not for too long. He might leave Michael struggling for a minute or so to prove a point, though. Will was not above being petty and using threats to get his patients to behave, which Lee was pretty sure he was supposed to discourage but had never quite managed.

See: sweet but also unbearably stubborn.

Michael's eyes were still on Nathan, but he did lay back down again, and grabbed one of Will's hands in the process.

The simple action had Will's lip quivering a little, because he was still only thirteen and being tasked with entirely too much responsibility.

Lee wanted to give him a hug, but it was clearly Michael that Will was seeking the comfort from right then, probably because Michael was the one with the serious injuries that had come too close to death mere hours earlier. Maybe also because he'd adjusted to Michael as his head counsellor, too.

"I'm going back down," he told all of his siblings. "I'll try and get back up before the battle starts again but if Kronos comes earlier…" He trailed off with a shrug when Michael's eyes snapped to him.

"You're fighting?" he demanded.

"I'm still fit," Lee said.

"You don't have weapons or armour," his brother said flatly, and his eyes flickered over to Tris as well. "Neither of you do."

Lee hadn't been planning on letting Tris fight at all, but when he looked over at Tris, he saw a look of stubbornness that was going to be very difficult to dissuade. The worst thing was that, despite his age and his bruises, Tris was technically fit to fight – both less injured and more rested than most of their siblings. He was also a pretty good fighter.

"Where's my bow?" Michael asked. "Is it-?"

"Kayla has it," Will said. Lee had lost track of the bow a long time ago, but somehow wasn't surprised by that. "It's fine."

"Use it," Michael told Lee, who hadn't expected that. "If I'm fucking stuck here, and you don't have a fucking weapon, then you're fucking using mine."

Michael's bow was, technically, too small for Lee, but it was a horse bow, so even though Michael used it almost like a longbow because of his height, Lee could still use it as a short bow. It wasn't his usual bow style, but he could still do it – and Michael was right. He did need a weapon.

Michael was also incredibly protective of his bow, normally. For him to offer it meant a lot.

"I'll look after it," Lee promised. "Thank you."

"Thank me by staying alive this time," Michael grumbled at him. He was clearly not happy about being forced to sit out from the war, but thankfully he seemed to accept that he couldn't fight, at least for one night.

Lee suspected it would be a wholly different case in another twenty-four hours or so, if Kronos kept to fighting at night and pausing during the day and Michael had a chance to argue his way back out of their makeshift hospital.

He missed Will pulling off his armour until the breastplate and quiver were handed to Tris. "Take my bow, too," he said. Unlike Lee and Michael, Will and Tris were similar enough in size and build to get away with it, just about. It wasn't a perfect fit, but it would help more than hinder. "I still have my knife," Will promised, before Lee could complain about leaving his siblings defenceless. "But if the fight gets back this far, it doesn't matter how armed or not I am."

Unfortunately, he was right.

Thanks for reading!
Tsari