Heat crept up the back of neck, burning the top of her head. Her hair was moved, gently brushed between carding fingers with the softest of tugs as it moved. She was dimly aware of the braid behind formed, but she couldn't focus much on it.

There was a weight slung across her shoulder, a heaviness similar to a thick blanket, one that she would never find herself using, but it wasn't so uncomfortable as it could be as it gave her a feeling that wasn't exactly warm, not like the direct gaze of the sun like the one at the back of her head, but one that was comforting and life-bringing, like a healing cocoon--

She jerked awake, blinking wildly as came face to face with the sea-spray of the ocean from the back of a hippocampus.

Her fingers were cramped from the way that she had them curled so tightly around the main, her legs starting to grow sore from being in a straddled position for so long.

"You're awake," Annabeth notes happily, fingers still moving through her hair.

She squints at the sky, almost sunset, and does a mental calculation on what time it is. They had been out here a while, and she had been asleep the entire time, it seemed. Sitting up further, she can feel Annabeth remove something from her shoulders carefully, as if she was trying to move as little as possible.

She blinks at the fleece as it pools between them, tucked safely so that it didn't fall into the water.

"When did you put that on me?" Kassandra asks, twisting as much as she could to look behind her. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel great. The fleece worked wonders by the time that I woke up around an hour or so ago, I trade it off so that you could use it," she told her. "You sort of went flying and hit with a rock, I think."

"I don't remember getting hit with a rock."

Annabeth just shakes her head, her own hair pulled back into a braid. "I didn't think you would, but when we were still in the cave, it was right next to you. I think you got hit with a chunk of it when you ducked down," she reaches out and traces a line against her temple. "Your adrenaline must have been running so high that you didn't feel it. That's why I led him out of the cave."

"You led him out of the cave and got hurt because of me."

"I got hurt because I made a bad choice," Annabeth counters, and she finds herself surprised by how easily she admits her mistake. "I panicked a bit. There might have been an explosion involved."

"I thought that was Polyphemus."

Annabeth shakes her head, pleased with herself. "Nope."

Grinning, she beams at the other girl. "What did you do?"

"Best not to give away my secrets now," she teased.

The hippocampus jerked, whining as it swam in circles. The other one that she had nearly forgotten about came into view with Clarisse, Tyson, and Grover holding out. The demigod shot them a confused look, one that demanded further instructions as Tyson spoke quietly to the monster.

"We should get Percy up," the blonde says, turning to wake her best friend as he was still partially leaned up against her back.

In the distance, the sun was setting behind the city skyline. She could see a beachside highway lined with palm trees, storefronts glowing with red and blue neon, a harbor filled with sailboats and cruise ships.

"What?" he asks, voice groggy with sleep.

"We're in Miami, I think," Annabeth said. "But the hippocampi are acting funny."

"This is as far as they'll take us," he said. "Too many humans. Too much pollution. We'll have to swim to shore on our own."

No one was entirely pleased about that, but it was much better than the sea of monsters. Here, it was clear, normal seawater that didn't make her feel like something was going to reach out and grab her ankle at any second.

More than that, the promise of land, normal land, pushed her forward. They would be home soon and she could release the breath that she had been holding since they embarked on this quest.

They had the fleece, had the means to save Camp, to protect everyone once more, and it made Kassandra feel like crying.

After they allowed Tyson a moment to say goodbye to his hippocampus, they began the swim back, the waves pushing them gently until touched onto the sand and wadded onto the beach.

She gave a happy little squeal, jumping about on her toes as she danced on the sand. "I never thought I would grow tired of the water, but if I didn't swim for the rest of the summer, I would be good," she sighs happily, spinning in a circle with her arms stretched out.

"Don't forget the promise you made," Percy reminds her, coming forward with her bow. "Swimming lessons."

She snatches it back in an instant, the mist already turning it to look like a tennis racket as she puts it across her back. Glancing over, she sees that Tyson's singular eye blurred until it was hard to distinguish clearly.

"Swimming lessons?" Annabeth asks.

She shrugs. "I made a promise to Poseidon at one point."

They wandered along the cruise line docks, pushing through crowds of people arriving for vacations. Porters bustled around with carts of luggage. Taxi drivers yelled at each other in Spanish and tried to cut in line for customers. If anybody noticed us-five kids dripping wet and looking like they'd just had a fight with a monster-they didn't let on.

Maybe that was one of the blessings of being a demigod -- no one noticed you unless they wanted you dead, and while being targetted by monsters all the time was terrible, it was better to have moments that remained hidden.

Annabeth ran to the nearest newspaper box and checked the date on the Miami Herald. She cursed. "June eighteenth! We've been away from camp ten days!"

"That's impossible!" Clarisse said.

Kassandra didn't have a green thumb, but she knew the basics when it came to poisons. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Thalia's tree must be almost dead," Grover wailed. "We have to get the Fleece back tonight."

Her jaw clenched. "So we get it back tonight," she declared.

Clarisse slumped down on the pavement. "How are we supposed to do that?" Her voice trembled. "We're hundreds of miles away. No money. No ride. This is just like the Oracle said. It's your fault, Jackson! If you hadn't interfered-"

"Percy's fault?!" Annabeth exploded. "Clarisse, how can you say that? You are the biggest--"

"What about Clarisse?" she counters instinctively, rounding on the blonde in defence of her friend. This was her quest, this was her chance to prove herself to her siblings, and they just barge in and acted like she was in the way. "Why do you have to act like--"

"Stop it!" Percy shouts. He took a deep, steadying breath. "Clarisse, what exactly did the oracle tell you?"

She looks up from her hands, eyes unwavering in their anger as they hide her desire to cry.

"You shall sail the iron ship with warriors of bone,
You shall find what you seek and make it your own,
But despair for your life entombed within stone,
And fail without friends, to fly home alone."

"But you brought friends with you," Kassandra says. "You brought me, then Percy, Annabeth and Tyson showed up. You haven't failed anything yet."

She shook her head, cursing her father and his ridiculous oracle. Whatever they spewed was senseless, mind-twisting until you couldn't properly comprehend straight. The oracle's prophecies have led many demigods to their demise.

"No, no, wait," Percy said. "I've got it. Does anyone have any cash?"

"Always," Kass says immediately, diving into her trusty bag with further -- and wow, she had really become the bag mom that held everything that they could possibly need. She pulls out her coin purse. "There's some drachma in there, too."

"Like green paper?" Tyson asks hesitantly.

They look at him. "Like green paper," Percy tells him.

"Like the kind in the duffel bag?"

"Yeah, but the duffel bag is gone," Annabeth says morosely.

The cyclops shakes his head and reaches into his saddlebag, pulling out a Ziploc full of green bills that makes the girl choke. "What the Hades?"

"Tyson!" Percy said. "How did you-"

"Thought it was a feed bag for Rainbow," he said. "Found it floating in sea, but only paper inside. Sorry."

He hands it to his brother and he immediately starts to count it out. All fives and tens, but at least three hundred dollars.

Percy ran to the curb and grabbed a taxi that was just letting out a family of cruise passengers "Clarisse," he yelled. "Come on. You're going to the airport. Annabeth, give her the Fleece."

They stood stunned, gaping at the boy. Her heart raced and she wasn't sure what emotion it was that was egging it on, she was feeling too many, but the thought of getting the fleece back to Camp won over. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

He took the fleece letterman jacket from Annabeth's arms, stuffed the pockets full of cash, and handed it to Clarisse.

Clarisse looked at him with wide, open eyes. "You'd let me--"

"It's your quest, Clarisse. We were only there to help," he tells her. "You would fail without friends, but you were always meant to take the flight home alone."

"How are you going to get home?" Clarisse asks.

Kassandra looked at her small coin pouch with a frown. "I'll call my parents," she says. "They'll get us bus tickets or something, but you have to go now. They're all counting on you."

"We've gotten out of worst places with less," Annabeth adds, sudden determination coursing through her. "We need you not to fail this."

Clarisse nods. "You can count on me."

They watch the cab leaves in a cloud of exhaust and she steps onto the street unconsciously, following her until she can't. The Fleece was on its way.

Her fist curls around her coin pouch for a moment before she drags out a singular drachma and puts it away.

Finding herself alone with the group once more, she shifts her weight and cocks her head. "I'm going to call my parents and get us tickets home. Is everyone okay with the bus?"

"You don't have to do that," Annabeth says. "We can figure out something else."

She shrugs. "They can afford it. It'll just mean more chores for me. Unless you want to steal a boat and we pull up to Camp in a yacht or something."

"If you think they really won't mind," Percy says, looking a little nervous as if he's scared to upset her parents — which, to be fair, was a typical concern when it came to usual half-blood parents.

Waving him off, she leaves in search of a good place to call while telling them not to wander off. She went a little down the beach, not far at all, when she found a little spot where the waves crashed against a piece of driftwood causing just enough mist to put through a quick message. Hopefully, her parents would understand the urgency and let her get to the point.

She was crouching down, half-way through the prayer to the goddess Iris, when she felt the pickle at the back of her neck, that feeling of being watched and that sensation of antsy ADHD that seized her limbs.

Her mind screamed, body taking control of instinct as 'Behind you!' echoed through her head and she rolled over the log, turning the motion half-way through as she landed crouched on one knee, hand going to her side automatically for her dagger only to remember that it was still on Polyphemus' island.

Instead, Kassandra was left with a hand raised in defence and the other hovering near her hip staring down Chris Rodriguez in complete, utter shock.

He held a sword in hand and pointed the tip at her threateningly, features drawn into a neutral mask of indifference.

"What are you doing?" she demands, pushing herself to her feet in a defensive stance. "Were you about to stab me in the neck?"

Anger flickers across his features, blowing her away for just a moment before she lets the same feeling rage make it's way through her. He was angry? He was angry?! Kassandra could feel every bit of terrible hatred she had felt the night that she had learnt of his betrayal racing up through her, bursting like firey gold beneath her skin, searing through her like the sun.

It was one thing to be felt discarded by someone that she had never met, one thing to feel their abandonment, but it was another to have the family that you chose, the people that you had grown with, leave you behind for the promise of what? Power and revenge? Destruction?

What was the point of power if you were forgotten? What was the point of revenge if they would no longer exist to see your victory, your triumph?

(When Kassandra had first met Chris, he was a new camper undetermined just as she was. He was a few months older, coming into camp when she was ten and still learning how to defend herself. She wasn't very good, but she was smart and that was enough to make her continue.

He had been a little shorter than her at the time, something that he had hated with a passion, that Travis and Connor teased him for, and in the end, he snapped, beating her down in training with a surprise tackle around the middle mid spar bringing them to a roll across the arena until she managed to wiggle free -- clawing herself away from his grip.

Kass had kicked in him in the face hard enough to break his nose. She told him to never come near her.

It was only later, much later, when the quiet teasing continued, that she had caught onto the fact and decked the Stoll brothers in the middle of dinner in front of all the campers, declaring them mean and troublemakers and no good bullies that she was going to beat up if they didn't shut up and leave Chris alone.

The extra chores and a scolding all while being called Cranberry by Mr. D had been worth it. She had gained three friends in the process.)

The anger made her stomach knot something ugly and mean, churning until she wasn't sure if she wanted to scream and rage and break apart the world or just him.

Kassandra clenched her jaw, took a wary glance to the side, and darted for it, putting distance between them as she sprinted across the sands back in the direction of the others trying to pull off her bow without slowing. She had always been fast, but so had Chris.

It was a race to the finish as he tackled her down, the sword cutting a clean line across her back trying to get the pin as she screamed and kicked. She slugged him across the jaw, the punch no doubt making him see stars and wiggled her way from underneath him, catching a kick to the side of his thigh and ribs.

"Don't make this difficult, Kassie," he grunts, rising to his knees and raising his sword.

"Don't call me that," she hissed, she kicked his arm, the blade nicking her bare caff. She kicked him once more for emphasis, right in the solar plexus. She was on her feet quickly as he caught his breath, bow in hand and arrow notched. "And don't move either."

"You won't shoot," he gasps, moving to push himself to his feet.

The string is pulled tighter. "There are plenty of places that I can't shoot you where you won't die. Do you want to risk it?"

"You only get one shot," he warns her, levelling his sword at her.

"You gonna run me through, Chris? You gonna stab me?" she spits out. "You've known me since I was ten. You gonna stab your oldest friend?"

He shakes his head, brown eyes distant as he looks at her, for some stupid reason, she lets him get to his feet. "Isn't that what makes this so messed up? We're on different sides. We believe the same things, but we're on different sides of a war. We should be together fighting for the same thing."

"The same thing?" she asks in disbelief. "You're fighting to raise a Titan for Tartarus! What could possibly justify such drastic, apocalyptic actions?"

Chris only stares at her sadly, like she's the one making the mistake and not him. "I see Luke was right. You still need more time."

"More time? More time?!" she shrieks, her voice taking on a terrifying octave. "I don't need more time for shit, Chris! You're clearly the one that needs more time in a psych ward to overcome your delusions of grandeur and insanity!"

He just shakes his head. "Grab her."

Eyes blowing wide, arms grab her own and yank them back enough that she screams and whines, fearing that they might snap. Her vision blurred white, a dance of movement and her own scream echoing in her ears as she felt the tip of his blade pressed to the hollow of her throat.

"Give me her bow," he orders, and it's ripped from her hand none too gently. "She's useless without it."

Her eyes burn with tears and fury. A trembling breath leaves her as she dragged back into the firm chest of a monster held up but the colour of her shirt. She doesn't look back fearing what she might see but knows that it's not something that she'll like as they begin to guide her away.

"Oh, don't cry, Kassie," he says, voice softer than it had been before. "No one is going to hurt you."

His words only make her vision blur further with tears that stubbornly remain no matter how much she blinks them away.

Kassandra takes a deep breath, focusing herself, and prays desperately to Ares for his help as she snaps a hand to her side and grabs an arrow from her quiver -- yielding it like a knife as she plunges it into the monsters neck viciously.

She drops, grabbing another arrow from her side as she whirls to face the Scythian Dracanae that had held her -- her heart leaping into her throat as she chokes down a fearful cry -- but she keeps going, stepping away from the dusting monster to face Chris and his ugly scowl fully.

"You're mine, you coward! I'm gonna kill you and drag you back to camp myself if I have to."

"I don't want to fight you, Kassie," he mutters. "But I'll do what I must."

(They were sat quietly together when a new camper was claimed, a child of Ares only there a month, heads tucked low as they muttered bitterly to themselves. They hadn't understood the purpose of making them wait, hadn't understood the reason for not wanting to claim them, but they understood what it meant to have someone lookout for you as they watched the Ares campers burst from their cabin covered in feathers, the Stoll brother's around the corner with a thumbs up.)

He rushed forward and it was like training, dodging in and around his sword as she would with her dagger in hand, but instead of that, she held an arrow forced to completely avoid his blade entirely.

(The arrow struck the tree beside his head and Kassandra watched as he pulled up short, staring at it in shock.

She giggled. "Careful, Chris. Don't want to make a wrong step.")

She twisted away from his strike, letting the motion pull him down as she kicked at the back of his legs, bending backward to avoid him further.

Her fist lashed out, striking his ribs, and he grunts, glaring at her from the corner of his eye. He raised his sword up higher, coming at her with greater speed.

(For a moment she almost found herself laughing with glee, it was exactly like sparring with one of her closest friends, one of her brothers again. If she closed her eyes, she could have imagined Lee off to the side sighing in exasperation or Luke goading them on by shouting suggestions -- gods, she could even imagine Annabeth nearby running commentary, making predictions of who would win either for fun or to rile them up further, she had never cared.

But it wasn't like sparring with her best friend.)

There was a dip in the sand as her foot catches and her leg wobbles from the abrupt change. She gasps, blindly whipping the arrow tip near his face as something white-hot and piercing goes through her side, like an electric shock right near her floating ribs on the left side.

She can feel the sword cut through her and then pull out. She can feel the electricity as it runs through her. And then there's nothing but heat as she continues through with her strike, cutting across his cheek straight over his nose with a vicious snarl.

Kass screams, rearing her hand back to hit him again, but Chris has dropped his sword in the sand, and is grabbing her arm as quickly as he can to stare at her open-mouthed.

Breathing heavily, she follows his gaze, batting away his hovering hand at her side. Her fingers prod gently of the wound, pulling away with the slickness of warm blood.

"Oh. Oh, my gods, Chris," Kassandra breathes in disbelief. "You stabbed me."

☼ ☼ ☼

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haha loved this chapter. It was gonna start out so lame but then i decided 'hey! lets throw in some random drama!!' Like girl. You brought an arrow to a sword fight? And lost because you tripped? Iconic.

unedited

written: 2021-01-26

posted: 2021-03-05