Takes place pre-Son of Neptune.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Late October sunbeams weaved through the half-constructed frame of the great bronze warship, glimmering gold as the warm blasts of air from the heated workshop battled the cold creeping in from the outside forest. Campers swarmed about the hull chaotically, and Leo presided at his work bench with a sense of authority Jason had never seen in him outside of a forge. Jason could sense the life thrumming at the heart of the ship, half-formed but already very strong.

Even in the messy process of building the best warship ever designed, Camp Half-Blood was beautiful.

Jason sighed under his breath, eyeing the diagrams and maps tacked to the wall across the room. Was it really possible to build a ship so impressive, so large? He knew Leo was skilled, of course—there's no one he would've rather had build the thing—but this whole plan seemed like a shot in the dark. Percy Jackson was thousands of miles away, one amnesiac demigod versus a legion of fierce and highly suspicious Romans. Jason knew of his achievements, a long list similar to his own, and knew that Percy wouldn't be taken down easily, but…Jason thought he'd gotten the better end of the deal. All they could do here, frustratingly enough, was build this ship and pray it didn't look like too much of a threat to the Romans. Jason busied himself with helping Leo as best he could and occasionally undertaking small quests for Chiron, like recruiting new demigods and delivering messages.

So many uncertainties. Jason couldn't help but feel that he and the rest of the camp were holding their breaths. For what, he didn't know. He just knew that it wasn't time yet.

All of the problems and fears and frustrations weren't visible by just surveying the camp, however. Jason peered outside the forge. The sky was clear and cerulean, a cool wind ruffling the flaming orange leaves of the trees. A constant stream of voices—some perplexed, some angry, some a combination of both—was always in the background.

"—that's stupid, it's four inches too long, obviously—"

"Hector, where's the bucket of nails I gave you three seconds ago? You better not have dumped it down the back of Conner's T-shirt again—"

"—give it back, the reactor core's gonna explode if—"

His eyes slipped shut, content to dwell in his thoughts for the moment.

"—I dunno, Jake, you tell me—"

"—just for a few days, Chiron. Gotta get back to the Hunters at some point, you know—"

Jason's eyes snapped open. He recognized that voice. Whipping his head towards the forest just outside the workshop, he hopped down from his perch and ran to greet his sister. "Thalia!"

Thalia looked well, immortality giving her rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes, and a silvery outline. Her trademark punk clothes were a little grubby, her hands smudged with dirt, and her bow was slung over her shoulder as casually as Jason would carry a backpack. A quiver of arrows bumped against her back. Light gleamed off Thalia's jewelry: her magical charm bracelet and her lieutenant's tiara. Thalia's eyes brightened further as she saw him.

"Hey, little brother!" Thalia gave Jason a fond hug.

"I'll let you two talk," Chiron said as he smiled at the pair and wheeled himself into the workshop.

Stepping back, Jason cocked his head. "How long are you here for?"

"Just thought I'd stop by, check on you guys…" She winked at him. "We were in the area anyway, to kill a particularly nasty monster."

"What kind of monster?"

"One of Gaea's favorites," Thalia said tightly, her eyes flashing. "It's as dead as it'll ever be now."

Jason grimaced. Gaea's name seemed to bring a chill to the air. "How often can you stop by?"

"I'll visit when I can…We're out hunting monsters, mostly, a lot of forgotten ones that Artemis is checking on. Recruitment's up this year—we've already gained four new sisters!" Thalia beamed. "Dalia's a bit feisty, but that's good if you can use it to your advantage in battle…we'll have to work on Hattie's impatience, though."

All the way to the Big House they talked, Thalia describing her new recruits and Jason telling her of his experiences at camp.

"It was just Capture-the-Flag," he grumbled, picking at a new scar on his arm. "Clarisse didn't have to throw a tantrum about it."

Thalia laughed. "Capture-the-Flag is much more than a game here, Jason. It's a way of life. My first game was me and Percy and all the other winter campers against the Hunters. Now that was a disaster worth remembering."

Jason waited for her to flinch at the mention of the lost hero's name, but Thalia only looked wistful. "You'll like him, I think. People say we're a lot alike, being cousins and all, but to be honest, Percy's probably easier to get along with than me. He's still an insufferable hardhead, no doubt about it, but…he's one of the people I want standing by me when this war ends."

She studied his expression. "It's not a crime to mention him, is it?"

"No…in fact, a lot of people do—except Annabeth. It's just strange, I guess."

Thalia bit her lip. "I know you probably feel like you have to fill his shoes, so to speak, but Percy's not gone forever, Jason. Just remember that. You don't have to try to be anyone else, alright? You've proven yourself ten times over."

Jason nodded, after a moment. "I'm glad you came," he said, grinning. "I kinda missed you."

Thalia laughed. "Likewise," she said, and gave him a gentle shoulder punch. For a moment, Jason forgot about the war.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Jason nearly hadn't made it through the doorway of Zeus's Cabin before he collapsed from exhaustion. He and Thalia had parted ways soon after that conversation. He'd gone to fetch a length of pipe for Leo while Thalia sought out Annabeth. The words she'd said had stuck in his mind all day. You've already proven yourself ten times over. Remember that, alright?

He slumped over in his usual niche and pulled a blanket over his head. Jason fitfully fell asleep, puddles of liquid moonlight condensing around the statue of Zeus and his baleful glare that always sent a shiver down Jason's spine.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o

He woke abruptly in a burst of shuddering screams. Hands clutching the blanket in a claw-like grip and mouth ajar, Jason scrabbled to his feet, searching for the hellhound that had been three inches from tearing his throat out—

Oh. Just a typical demigod dream, then.

The cabin was lit by skylights above his head, moonlight filtering in dimly. Jason checked the cabin once more for other presences—being a demigod meant you could never be too careful—but finding none, he dropped back into his nest of blankets. Leaning deep into a corner to catch his breath, he discovered a brick-shaped lump nudging his hip. It must've come from behind a loose brick. Jason picked it up gingerly.

A shoebox, kind of beat up, he noted offhandedly. With much wiggling, Jason freed the lid with his fingertips. As he placed it aside, he pulled the box onto his crossed legs. Thalia's Stuff, said messy Sharpie scrawl on the side.

Photos. Dozens and dozens of photos. People Jason had never seen before in his life, countless stories in the form of smiles and sword fights and changing seasons. It was startling, Jason realized, to think that the Second Titan War had only ended months ago. Thalia had had a whole lifetime full of battles inbetween their childhood and their reuniting. There was so much history Jason did not know, could not connect to intimately. It made him feel—not jealous, exactly, but certainly left out.

He could guess who he would find in the box. Thalia, of course. Percy Jackson—whoever he was, exactly. Annabeth, for sure. Jason took out the first photo.

Thalia and her Hunters, all grinning wildly in a forest somewhere up north, set in deep winter. Some of the girls were kneeling, some were standing, but they were all huddled affectionately together. On the back of the picture it stated neatly:

February 23rd, 2008

Killian National Park

The Hunters, from right to left:

Adeline, Tara, Lynn, Daphne, Thalia, Phoebe, Claudia, Lucy, Stella, Constance, Olive, Rianne, Beatrice, Ivy, Julia, Eloise, Delphine, and Fern

He glanced over it, smiled at his sister's happiness, and picked up the next photo.

Two girls stood side-by-side in front of a van that Jason recognized as Camp Half-Blood's. It was very early in the morning. Jason didn't recognize either of the girls, but they both looked familiar. One stood tall and regal, her dark hair plaited over her shoulder, a silver tiara glinting in her hair. Jason sucked in a breath; that was his sister's tiara. This girl had been Artemis's lieutenant before Thalia, which meant that Jason knew how her story had ended. This was Zoë Nightshade, the bravest girl I ever knew, Thalia had called her.

The Italian girl beside her was also a Hunter; she too wore a silver parka and carried a distinct glow of immortality. She smiled shyly, hair curling softly around her face and dark eyes glittering happily. The girls weren't displaying obvious signs of friendship. But Jason could see, hidden deep in their body language, that Zoë was fond of the girl, and the girl viewed Zoë as her hero. In tidy script on the back of the photo it read:

December 16th, 2007

Camp Half Blood

Bianca di Angelo and Zoë Nightshade

Nico has a sister? Jason thought in wonder. He'd only met the solemn son of Hades once before, and it had been an unpleasant experience. Not that the kid was bad at heart, but he unsettled the other campers. Nico had an aura of bleak decay, like the smell of once-vibrant leaves under a foot of snow after autumn's end. Not bad, but certainly intimidating.

There were more photos to be seen. Jason, feeling like he couldn't stop, swept through them in a flurry of curiosity. Most were of Hunters, talking and laughing together. They're probably bonding over how dumb they think guys are or something, Jason thought. He flipped to another photo.

There was Annabeth, thirteen or fourteen years old, blond hair flying as she raised her Celestial bronze knife in playful defense. What she was defending herself from, Jason wasn't sure, but it looked like a camper spread-eagled on the arena floor. There were three different sets of handwriting on the back.

Annabeth Chase kicking Percy Jackson's ass. Again.

Right after she kicked yours, Thalia.

Well, she's Annabeth, what did you expect?

You can't win against Athena strategy.

You two are so obvious. Except Thalia has more of an excuse, 'cause she's been a tree for the last seven years. Percy's just slow.

Hey!

I'm okay with that explanation.

It was a moment so light and humorous that Jason was tempted to laugh himself.

The next photo was startlingly familiar. It was centered in the sunshine-dappled woods, late summer maybe. Weapons cast on the forest floor, four figures stood, laughing and arms around each other.

Nico stood at the left, Thalia to his right. She seemed to be teasing him, nudging Nico with her elbow while silently shaking with laughter. She was a Hunter by now, spiky black hair clashing with her tiara. Nico looked the same as usual, tattered black clothes too big for his skinny frame. Though his smile was no more than a quirk of his lips, his eyes were amused.

Annabeth was on Thalia's right. At first, Jason wasn't sure what he found odd about the expression on her face, but then it came to him: Annabeth looked happy. Her shoulders weren't weighed down with stress and she actually had laugh lines. Her gray eyes shined with heart-splitting joy. Annabeth appeared to be bumping shoulders and holding hands with the guy on her right.

He was taller than Annabeth by a couple of inches or so, skin darkened to the point that Jason would've guessed he had Mediterranean heritage. Black hair hung in his eyes, which he was constantly pushing out of the way with his other hand in exasperation, a peculiar gray strand catching Jason's eye. He was gazing at the camera with vivid green eyes, smiling gently, but most of his attention seemed to be on Annabeth. For a second, Jason could see the picture as it had been through this boy's eyes; the eyes that had shut tight in relief, in the knowledge that it was over and they were home.

His heart ached.

Jason flipped the photo around, though he didn't really need to.

July 17th, 2009

Camp Half Blood

Nico di Angelo, Thalia Grace, Annabeth Chase, and Percy Jackson

"Ah, so you've found my stash. I was looking for that."

Jason flinched at the sound of Thalia's voice. Guiltily, he turned to face her. Thalia was leaning against the doorway, grinning but with her eyebrows angled down, like she was sad.

"Gods, I do not miss sleeping here," she murmured. Thalia walked over and sat down next to Jason. She picked up the first picture he'd seen. "I remember this one. It was one of my first hunts as lieutenant, for a chimera. That was an adventure."

She pulled the blanket over her lap. "Hey, scoot over."

Jason obliged. "Why did you take all these photos?"

Thalia shrugged. "I just always have. Started collecting them when me and Luke…" Her face darkened. "Well, you always have memories, but it's nice to have something concrete, you know?"

"Yeah, I would give anything for a memory."

She winced. "Sorry, wasn't thinking. It's getting better, right?"

"It is, don't worry," Jason promised. "It's just frustrating trying to fit them all together, like a puzzle that's missing half of the pieces. But it's getting better. Piper and Leo and Annabeth and Chiron and the others are a real help."

Thalia flew through the photos, her eyes moving quickly from figure to figure and her lips mouthing names silently. At some she laughed or smiled, at others she only stared. When she came to the photo with Bianca, Jason could've sworn her eyes were shiny with tears.

"What's wrong?"

Thalia sighed and closed her eyes. "Sorry. Some of these are painful. I know you've met Nico…this is his sister. She died a few years back. So did Zoë."

"What happened?" Jason asked. "Wait, you don't have to answer that if you don't want to—"

"It's okay," Thalia interrupted. "I want you to know. It's important to learn from your mistakes, true. But your job, little brother, is to learn from my mistakes." She took a deep breath. "Bianca got in over her head. Too much pressure, too soon. Zoë and I should've realized that, but she was looking for a successor and I was…emotionally compromised."

In that instant, Thalia looked much older than her eternally young appearance should've allowed. "Annabeth was gone. I was so hell-bent on rescuing her, so angry at our father, that I didn't question the choice of bringing a newbie half-blood who didn't even know her own parentage along. That entire quest was a mess. Grover, Zoë, Percy, Bianca, and me." She closed her eyes. "Zoë died by her father's hand. Bianca made a rookie mistake and died saving us from the consequences. Percy…" Thalia's voice sounded choked. "There's no leaving us alone, is there?"

Jason put an arm around her in an attempt to comfort her. Thalia looked unbearably desolate. "Sometimes it's too much."

Jason looked past the statue of Zeus and tried to think back. He let his mind race by the last few months; all the way back, past freeing Hera, past meeting the Hunters, past Midas and Medea. Past waking up in Piper's arms. His memories reeled by, almost dizzying him with color and feeling and sound. He could feel the warmth of Piper's shoulder, the tickle of the eagle feather entwined in her braid against his forehead. The sunshine burnt his eyelids white, and then—

—nothing. A wall of static.

Jason sighed. The memories came, all too slowly. He knew what he was now, which helped: a Roman demigod leader sent to unite two camps from the Greek side. He had a handful of names: Bobby, Hazel, Gwen, Octavian, Reyna, a few more besides. He had feelings for those names: shivers for Octavian, a dash of affection for Hazel, and a strange prickle of heat that felt suspiciously like blushing for Reyna. Everything else was on the tip of his tongue. Sometimes, Jason got lucky and dreamed of memories, or things that felt a lot like memories; vague images skirting his consciousness like a flash of silvery scales or a brown pegasus wing. If Jason thought especially hard, the edges of his vision glowed purple.

Jason, without exactly meaning to, picked up another photo.

Like most of the other photos, it wasn't anyone recognized. It was late summer, on the beach. A handsome black guy in torn jeans and work boots was smiling so hard Jason thought his face might crack. A slim girl was tucked against him, his arm encircling her shoulders. She was beautiful, all black hair and deep hazel eyes.

June 5th, 2008

Camp Half Blood

SilenaBeauregard and Charles Beckendorf

"Beckendorf?" Jason asked, surprised. "I've heard that name before…"

"Yeah, he was kind of a legend around here," Thalia said. "Son of Hephaestus. Amazing blacksmith, he could make anything. He was the heart of the camp…everybody expected him and Silena to go to college and marry and have kids. Nobody thought he would—well, die. I wasn't there, wasn't that close to him, but I saw the people that were and I can tell you that his death hurt."

"And Silena?"

"They were two halves of one whole. She died a little later, a hero." Thalia grinned suddenly. "Best daughter of Aphrodite I ever knew, except for Piper of course."

"She's pretty great," Jason admitted. Thalia laughed and swatted his shoulder.

The last photo in the box was a cheap photo booth reel. It featured three different people: a tall blond guy, a younger Thalia, and a little blond girl no more than eight years old with familiar gray eyes. They were making silly faces at the camera, the little girl in the middle. It was clear that Thalia and the other guy were very protective of her.

May 28th, 2000

Philidelphia

Luke Castellan, Annabeth Chase, and Thalia Grace

"Why doesn't anyone talk about him?" Jason asked. "They'll talk about Percy and Beckendorf, but they won't talk about Luke, whoever he is." Jason had been looking for a face to match the name he'd only heard whispers of. He felt a chill race up his spine at the blond hair, the blue eyes that held so much anger. He was suddenly very aware that he looked a lot like Luke.

Thalia's reaction was mixed. Unlike Beckendorf and even Bianca, Jason could tell that Luke was a forbidden topic to discuss with Thalia. He steeled himself for Thalia's cold rebuttal.

But she only sighed. "Luke was Kronos's right hand man. Before that, he was my best friend and Annabeth's idol."

"He was a traitor?"

Thalia looked like she was about to correct him, but refrained. "Luke knew what was right at the end. He sacrificed himself and saved the world." She laughed suddenly, a little bitter. "Always the overachiever."

Jason felt a burst of realization. "He was the hero in the prophecy, the one with the cursed blade!"

She looked at him sideways. "Yeah. I don't know how you know that, but yeah. We all thought it was Percy, but it was only Percy's choice whether to let Luke kill himself or not."

Jason's mind roared. This all felt horribly familiar. He caught a brief glimpse of the prophecy in his head. A half-blood of the eldest gods/Shall reach sixteen against all the odds…It played over and over again in his mind, just another puzzle piece that he couldn't quite understand.

"It was complicated," Thalia said, shrugging. "Ask me later for the full story, it's long and I'm tired." She yawned. "We did have a few good stories."

Jason's eyes were drawn to a photo on top of all the others, the one with Nico, Thalia, Percy, and Annabeth standing in the forest. He couldn't help but study Percy's face, wondering if they were destined to be best friends or worst enemies. He had a good feeling, but demigods were never lucky.

Thalia curled up beside him and pulled the blanket over her head. Within seconds, she was asleep. Jason couldn't bring himself to look away from the photos.

Eventually, Jason packed them back in the box. He handled each picture delicately, leaving the one of the four demigods in the forest on top. He could still feel their eyes on him when he slipped the lid back on the shoebox. He placed the shoebox back in its rightful corner.

Jason slotted himself behind Thalia, his back against his sister's reassuring warmth. He pulled the blanket tighter over his body and drifted off to sleep.

The last puddle of moonlight withered away, and Jason knew he would have no dreams tonight.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o

I don't own The Heroes of Olympus.

This is a re-write of a piece I posted on here years ago. It turned out so differently that I decided to post it under a new name and summary; it used to be known as What's Left.