Hi! I'm so sorry it's (very) late! I've had heaps of tests and assessments these past few weeks, but reports are now in so I shouldn't have too much schoolwork from now on. I also took ages because I wasn't happy with it and there are still parts I'm not sure about, but oh well. Here it is. I hope you like it!

CALYPSO

Calypso wanted the memories to be over. She wanted Leo to be unfrozen so that she could hug him and tell him she loved him. She already knew about everything they had just seen. She saw these memories every night- recreated through Leo's half-possessed, nightmare-controlled body. She saw them in the way he cried and yelled and rocked himself, still horribly asleep, unable to wake up. She saw the affect they had on him when he was awake. Because of that horrible σκύλα, Mrs Yang, Leo struggled to understand the emotions of other people, and learned to hide his own. He also hated anyone touching his neck. He was one of those people who would duck away and lean back from anyone who put their hand near his neck, completely out of instinct. He couldn't help it, and he hated it. His friends, however, thought his reaction was hilarious. They'd stopped harassing him only when Percy grabbed his neck from behind, and Leo almost broke his arm. Even afterwards, they all thought it was because he was ticklish, which he was, but Calypso knew that wasn't the real reason.

…And now so did they.

Leo wouldn't have wanted them to know that. Calypso still didn't know what to feel about Leo's friends watching his memories. If he hadn't been frozen, he would be trying to stop them, he would be yelling at Hera… but he would also be joking around so his friends didn't think he was upset. No. That wasn't okay. They needed to know what he had been through- what he was still going through. But she still didn't understand why she had to watch the memories with them. She knew everything there was to know about Leo's past. Apart from actually seeing what Leo had described to her in those cold, quiet hours before dawn, nothing they saw would be new to her. She knew what was going to happen next- which foster home he was going to be sent to. It wasn't the worst home, but certainly not the best. Was there ever really a best? Leo would say there wasn't. Even the nicest had bad memories attached to them. Bad memories- exactly what they were watching now. Of course she knew the memories weren't going to be happy, since they were not only bad memories, but Leo's worst. Yet she felt a strange sense of sadness watching Leo as a little boy- watching his life go by, each day changing who he was as a person, each day slowly transforming him into the Leo she knew. She knew what he would become, the things he would do, how important he was going to be, but he couldn't see it. Little Leo was still lost in the twisted maze of his childhood- still deep in the fear and sadness and hopelessness.

Calypso watched Leo's friends carefully. She wasn't the best judge of character- she hadn't been around people for a long time, and so was a bit rusty at reading people. Between herself and Leo, it was almost impossible for them to tell what a person was feeling. The only faces she'd seen over the last few millennia were those of heroes (always the same- rugged, handsome and mostly expressionless- except for Leo, that is) and gods (who really were never the best at imitating human emotions). There was also the fact that the only people she had seen were men. She had no idea how other girls worked. She glanced at Piper. Case in point. She couldn't really tell what Piper was feeling. If she had to guess, she would say anger- though whether it was at Mrs Yang or herself, Calypso wasn't sure. Jason and Percy next to her, however, showed pure guilt. Even she could see that. They both felt awful for not realising what Leo had been through. Hazel and Frank at the end of the couch had twin masks of shock and horror. They looked absolutely appalled at what they had seen, and Calypso couldn't blame them. Annabeth, however, the one member of the seven that Calypso still wasn't sure about, sat calm and calculating. She stared intently at the blank iris-message memory as if trying to decipher the information she had been given. Then she locked eyes with Calypso and the look on her face intensified. Calypso felt as if Annabeth was looking straight into her soul, pulling all her secrets out into the light and examining them. Calypso quickly looked away. She shifted uncomfortably and focused on the memory once again.

Leo was walked up the faded purple driveway to his new foster home by Tiffany, who kept her hand planted firmly in the centre of his back, as if she was worried he would try to run despite his promise. Leo, for his part, wasn't anywhere close to running. He had made a promise to Tiffany, and he wasn't going to break it. His mother had once told him that two of the worst things you could ever do were to lie or to break a promise. He hadn't forgotten her words, and was determined to do his best to keep his promise. No matter what happened in this foster home, or what the foster parent was like, he wouldn't run.

As it turned out, the foster parent wasn't one parent, as he was used to, but a young couple. The woman introduced herself as Ada and her husband as Jacob. They both had giant smiles on their faces and were nice to him- taking his bag inside, asking him how the journey was and even giving him a gift-wrapped present they had bought him- but Leo knew that meant nothing. Tiffany was still there, chatting with Jacob while Ada showed Leo the clothes she had bought him. As soon as his social worker left, and there was no longer a childcare official to watch over things, Leo was willing to bet that they would become horrible child-abusing monsters. His resolve almost broke, and he considered bolting before it was too late, but he held tight.

No, Leo. He told himself. You are keeping your promise. You will stay here, no matter what. You aren't allowed to run. They're being nice to you, at least for now. Be grateful. Smile.

So he did. He took the hot chocolate his new foster mother was handing him and beamed at her.

"Thank you, Mrs Evans."

"No problem, bud. But seriously, call me Ada. I'm your mom, not your teacher." She grinned at him, frizzy halo of brown hair bouncing as she laughed. Leo laughed with her, trying to ignore the fact that she had called herself his mum. She would never be his mother.

Once all the forms were signed and all the necessary briefings were out the way, Tiffany packed away her things and was shown to the door. She gave Leo one last meaningful look before Jacob closed the door.

"Alrighty Leo! You want to come meet your new brother?"

Oh no. Leo thought. Here it comes.

They were either going to be the traumatised, abused child that Leo would soon join in equal terror, or a horrible bully who would make Leo's life miserable. He wasn't sure which was worse.

"Sure!" He grinned. His momentary panic had forced the smile onto his face out of instinct. He felt false energy fill his body as he practically skipped after Ada and Jacob.

As it turned out, the little boy who was his foster brother was neither the bully or the bullied, but a quiet little six year old with mouse-coloured hair and pale blue eyes. He hopped off the couch, shyly glancing at his parents for encouragement. He didn't seem sure about Leo. He looked up at him like he was a terrifying giant.

"Hi." Leo said awkwardly. The boy gave him a small smile and waved.

"This is Max." Ada said. "Go on, sweetie. Why don't you ask Leo here some questions?" Max didn't say anything, but gaped at Leo. Ada hurriedly filled in the awkward silence.

"So, Leo. What cartoons do you like watching? Max here loves Thomas the Tank Engine. It's his favourite, isn't it Max?" She gave Leo a pained smile when Max answered with a simple nod.

"Well, um…" Leo said. "We could never afford a TV when I lived with my máma, so I don't really have any favourites. But I like listening to the radio. Máma and I-" He stopped. Why would they care about his favourites or his mother? They were just trying to be polite. They weren't actually listening. And why was he telling them all this anyway? He didn't want to tell them about his máma. He wanted to fall down and cry whenever he thought about her. Talking about her felt like stabbing himself in the heart with a rusty knife. He started to fidget- rocking onto the balls of his feet, tapping his fingers along the sides of his legs, frantically looking around the room.

Distract. Think about something safer. Breathe. Jacob smiled.

"How about we show you your room, Leo? It's upstairs." They led him to a small room with pale blue walls and a single-sized bed.

"I know it's not the most glamorous room." Ada said hurriedly. "But we hope you like it." Leo smiled at her, but his heart hammered in his chest. It would be much harder to escape from the second floor. Not that he was going to escape, of course. Stop it Leo, he scolded himself. Don't even think about running.

But part of him itched to, despite his promise. It just felt so natural now to run. To keep moving and leave everything behind. He felt so trapped with a roof over his head.

…

Once he was settled, Ada and Jacob started making dinner. Leo was starving, but when they set the pasta on the table, he stood, rigid and emotionless, waiting for them all to eat.

"Leo?" Ada asked. "What's wrong? Aren't you hungry?" Leo blinked, confused.

"W-what?"

"Aren't you going to sit down? You must be hungry." Leo still didn't understand. His mind couldn't wrap around the fact that he was wanted in the same room as someone else, let alone eating beside them.

"You… you want me to eat with you?"

He sounded so lost and confused that it broke Calypso's heart. It was as if he couldn't fathom being treated like a human being. He was used to being treated like the dirt beneath everyone else's feet.

"Of course!" Jacob laughed. "What did you think? That we were going to make you stand there and watch us eat? Come join us!" He pointed across the table to the empty seat beside Max. Leo gave a small smile in return and sat down hesitantly on the edge of his chair. He wasn't comfortable. He felt dizzy. His head hurt. This was wrong. He didn't deserve to sit here. He couldn't eat with them. Why would they want him? Jacob lifted his hand and Leo flinched, shying away, convinced he was about to hit him for sitting down, but Jacob only reached out to serve himself some spaghetti from the steaming pot in the middle of the table. Ada served herself some before giving Max a little to try. She looked at Leo, serving tongs in hand.

"You want some, Leo?" Leo hesitated. This was so wrong. He wasn't good enough. He was worthless. They should punish him. He knew they would if he said yes. They were going to beat him. They were going to hurt him. He couldn't accept the food. He started to panic, heart racing. He didn't show it. Instead, a smile spread across his face, covering his fear. Ada took his grin as a yes. She picked up his bowl and served him several scoops of pasta. Leo blanched.

"N-no, wait I-" She passed him the bowl. He almost dropped it. His fingers shook. Leo placed it carefully in front of him, feeling sick. He couldn't breathe. He felt as though Mrs Yang was squeezing his throat. It was as though there were weights on his chest, constricting his breathing. His foster family started eating straight away, but Leo couldn't. He could barely hold his fork. He'd almost forgotten how. Timidly, he pushed the fork into his food. His head snapped up, scanning their faces. He was sure Ada was going to stand up and beat him for trying to eat. Instead, she smiled at him.

"Go on, Leo. Try some. It's not poisoned, I swear." She laughed, oblivious to Leo's internal struggle. He dragged his eyes down to his food, lifting some food from the bowl on his fork. Even that took immense effort. The pasta seemed to add infinite weight to his hand. He couldn't make it reach his mouth. Leo gulped, putting his fork down. He felt so sick. He shouldn't eat. He deserved to go hungry. So he sat in silence, back straight, smile on his face, while they ate. After a few minutes, Jacob looked up.

"What's wrong Leo? Don't you like it?"

"No, it… its fine. I just…" He trailed off. "I'll just wait until you're finished."

"You don't have to do that! Feel free to eat, Leo. You don't have to wait for us to finish." Ada seemed shocked. Leo swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut. He picked up his fork. He couldn't breathe, he needed air. He felt sick. Why did that keep happening to him?

Just eat! He told himself. They want you to! It's not that hard. You're so stupid! Just pick up the fork and EAT.

He shoved the pasta in his mouth. Immediately, Mrs Yang yelled at him.

You horrible boy! You dare eat the same food as these people? You are disgusting! You are worthless! You don't deserve to sit at their table! You don't deserve to breathe the air they breathe! Worthless! Worthless!

Troy scowled at him, kicking him, mocking him.

Stupid idiot! You should just die! You're worthless! No one loves you! No one will ever love you! Worthless!

Aunt Rosa shoved her horrible, sneering face into his and slapped him.

Diablo! Murderer! Disgrace! You deserve to rot! Get out of my sight! Worthless!

The word echoed around his head, stopping his breath, stealing the light from his eyes, stabbing him with each murderous syllable.

Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.

The world was a fuzzy blur. He felt sick. So, so sick…

And it was a combination of the crippling words in his head and the fact that his body wasn't used to food, since he'd only had scraps for the past year, that made him react the way he did.

Leo leaned over the side of his chair and threw up, the meagre contents of his stomach leaving him. He vaguely registered Ada and Jacob leaping to their feet as he slid off the chair, laughing and crying at the same time.

…

"Gods." Piper breathed, horrified. "I-I had no idea that those kinds of thoughts were in his head. They're horrible. How does he stay standing?"

"I know what you mean." Percy agreed. "I thought Annabeth and I had it bad after Tar- after that place. His thoughts, his memories, even so far. They're just as bad if not worse than ours from that place. And he's just a child in these memories. The poor guy."

You have no idea what's coming, Calypso thought. They get worse. Far, far worse.

They whispered about him when they thought he was asleep.

"Did he not like it? What was wrong with it? None of us had that kind of reaction to the food. Do you think I undercooked the meat?" Ada.

"No no, nothing like that." Jacob. "Tiffany said that he's been living on the streets for almost three months. He was also in another foster home for half a year before that. They have no idea what he's been eating in that time, but probably not much- he's malnourished. Tiffany warned me this might happen. She said his body might not be able to cope with proper food yet."

"But what about his reaction? He… he was just laughing and laughing. A normal child doesn't laugh when they feel sick. He shouldn't be smiling when he's in discomfort or pain like that. He just seems… strange. Have you noticed that? He's weird."

Calypso wanted to slap her. He's not weird! He's mentally and emotionally scarred! He was abused! He's now probably developed an eating disorder because of his last foster home! And you're calling him weird?

"Ada, he's troubled. Losing his mother has probably messed him up in the head. We knew there was a high chance of fostering a troubled kid- you said you were up for it."

"I know but…"

Leo sat up and their conversation stopped.

"Hello, Leo. How are you feeling?" Jacob asked gently. Leo looked around. He was in his bedroom. It was still nighttime. He looked back at Jacob and Ada, staying silent.

"Do you remember what happened?" Leo didn't answer. He felt hollow.

"You were sick. And then you blacked out, Leo. Does that happen often?" Leo stared at him. He thought about how he had blacked out from pure lack of energy when he was caught the first time he ran away. He thought about how the deafening roar of words in his head had made him black out the second time he was caught. He remembered the countless times that the sheer exhaustion and stress of living with Mrs Yang had caused him to collapse. She had always beaten him for that.

"Leo?" Leo snapped back to reality. He could hear Mrs Yang's voice in his head.

Tell him you don't know. Why would he care anyway?

"I don't know." Leo told him.

"You don't know?" Ada asked, looking at him sceptically. Leo just grinned.

"Did you paint this room? I like it. It's blue. Blue's a cool colour. Get it? Cool? Like water?" Distract. Change the subject. Think about something else.

"…Yes, I guess it is a cool colour. We didn't choose it though- the people who lived here before us painted it that colour. But Leo-"

Nononono. Don't keep asking. Leave me be. I don't know I don't know I don't know. Help me help me.

Leo burst out laughing, heart racing. He leapt to his feet, kicking off his blankets. Ada faltered. She frowned.

"Why are you laughing? Is something funny?" Leo shook his head, stifling a giggle. He grinned.

"I'm going downstairs. I'm so happy. I love it here." He ran down the stairs, leaving a perplexed Jacob and Ada.

"You see what I mean?" She asked. "He's weird."

…

Over the next week, Ada and Jacob grew more and more concerned about Leo's behaviour. When Ada went to hang up the washing, Leo marched over to her, a smile on his face, and took the basket from her hands. It would have been a nice gesture, but Leo did it in a mindless, reflexive way, as if it was something that was required of him, something he had to do. Ada said repeatedly that Leo didn't have to hang up the washing, that she could do it, that it was fine. But it was as if Leo couldn't hear her. He walked to the washing line, staring straight ahead, a strange, slightly crazed smile on his face. He started hanging the washing up with blinding speed. He seemed more like a machine than a human being- doing the same repetitive task over and over, never stopping, ignoring Ada's protests. Every time he slowed, the voices in his head screamed insults, and his pace would quicken. Ada picked up a shirt and tried to help him but he moved to block her. He pulled the shirt from her hands, staring at her emptily, grinning. Ada had had enough.

"Leo!" She snapped when he continued to ignore her protests. She raised her hand to grab his arm and he shrunk back, eyes flashing terror, thinking she was about to strike him. He stared at her for a few seconds, before turning back to his task as if she didn't exist. Eventually Ada gave up, and went back into the house, confused and disturbed by Leo's sudden behaviour.

It wasn't just taking over chores or refusing to eat meals with the rest of them. Whenever asked a personal question, ("What happened in your last foster home?" "Why won't you eat with us? What was your mother like?) he would burst out laughing, or simply grin and stay silent. Eventually they learned not to ask about his past.

Laughing and smiling became a problem for Leo. Even though he was far from Mrs Yang's house, she followed him everywhere, invisible and imaginary to anyone else, but very real to Leo, who could see her and hear her and feel her hit him. Sometimes, when he was all alone in his little room at night, he would fall to his knees from the force of her blows. Her words made him feel as though he was being pulled apart. She opened him up and took away everything that made him him. She stole his energy, his joy, his ability to live without invisible shackles around his wrists. She made him hollow and numb.

But worst of all, Mrs Yang manipulated his thoughts and actions, and created a rift between him and his foster parents, stealing any chance of a healthy relationship or a normal life. Ada and Jacob began to act wary around him. Who wouldn't, at a boy who laughed at all the wrong things, and grinned when he was sad?

Once, when Max had been running around the garden, he had tripped and grazed his knees on the pavement. Leo watched as he started to cry. He watched as the deep grooves of torn skin welled up with blood. Bright, red blood. Like Harry's lip when it was split from a blow to the face. Like Eloise's hands from blisters caused by endless work. Like Jasmine's cheek from the finger nails that had raked down her face. Like his own body, so often covered in wounds while in that house. Constantly blanketed in red.

Leo snapped.

He fell to the ground as Ada ran outside to Max's side, scooping him up. Leo started to laugh. He rocked back and forth, staring in horror at the blood dribbling down Max's knees, laughing until he couldn't breathe.

"Leo! Don't laugh! It's not funny!" Leo continued to rock, laughing, a crazy glint in his eyes. "That's not nice! Max has hurt himself! You shouldn't laugh at him!" Leo could barely hear her. He tried to stop, he really did, but it just didn't work. He sat outside for hours, even after Ada had taken Max inside, rocking himself and laughing quietly, trying to ignore the look of fear and disgust on Ada's face.

When Jacob returned from work that evening, Leo heard them quietly talking about him in another room. He couldn't make out much of what they were saying, but he heard the words "messed up" "needs help" "psychopath" rise above the others. Leo felt numb.

He walked up the stairs to his room, exhausted, body aching. He leaned against his bed, staring at the wall, trying to feel something. Anything. Anything at all. But there was nothing to draw from but an empty, cold void inside him, bled dry by the words in his head. He turned to look at his duffel bag in the corner. He pulled it to him and emptied it. Clothes, dirty and torn. A headless dragon. A crumpled, half-burnt photograph of better times.

…And a sharp, silver knife.

[WARNING: The following scene contains self-harm, which is then mentioned afterwards in other parts of the fanfiction. If you don't want to read, skip until you see the line to pass the self-harm scene. There will also be further mentions of self-harm later on.]

It called to him. He could feel himself being drawn to it. His fingers curled around the hilt. It felt so comforting, so right in his hand. Pain made him smile. Smiling meant he was happy. Or, at least, he could trick people into thinking he was happy. Maybe he could trick himself. Maybe he would feel something. Maybe he would be happy. His breathing quickened. He just wanted this numbness, this hollowness to end. He pressed the point of the blade against the skin of his inner forearm.

Breathe in. Out.

He hesitated. Survival instinct, self preservation tried to stop him.

Breathe in. Out.

He swallowed.

Breathe in. Out.

He dragged the knife across his arm.

It left a shallow, thin cut, red with blood that couldn't break the surface. It was too thin, too shallow to bleed. It was tiny, but Leo's hands shook at the enormity of what he had done. It stung, but it felt good. He felt a smile spread across his face, but he wasn't happy. He still felt numb.

That doesn't count. Cut deeper.

He closed his eyes and dug the point a little deeper against his skin and dragged down, leaving a cut that slowly began to fill with blood. It oozed over, bright and thick. He cut himself again. And again. He started to rock himself, laughing, tears of relief streaming down his face. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't numb. And it felt so good not to be numb.

SKIP TO HERE

Leo tiptoed to the bathroom and cleaned the cuts, placing bandaids over them. He sat on the cool tiles and stared at the night sky out the bathroom window. He smiled, a sad, lonely smile that made his eyes shine like shattered glass. He took a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes, slipping into darkness.

The next morning, Ada would find him fast asleep on the bathroom floor, a smile on his face.

Calypso couldn't help but glance at real Leo. Her Leo. He still stood rigid and frozen, and the smile on his face was so similar to little Leo's in the memory that it made her suddenly feel impossibly sad. Yes, she knew all about his memories. She knew what would happen. But she had only ever seen them acted out by a boy her age, in the throes of a nightmare. Seeing a tiny little boy, barely nine years old, cutting himself with such sadness and desperation, as if there was nothing else left to do to save him from himself- that was enough to make her question how much she really knew about the memories. And what was worse, little Leo looked exactly like his future self. His smile was the exact same as her Leo's- it hadn't changed in all the years since this moment, as if he'd found the perfect template and it had stuck. The same muscles moved in his face to help him smile, his eyes crinkled the same way.

The only difference was that young Leo was smaller, thinner, more fragile. More innocent. Her Leo's eyes, if you were willing to actually look, rather than his friends' simple unseeing glances, showed layers and layers of pain. They were the eyes of someone who had seen too much. Little Leo's eyes still had the young, innocent shine of a child's. He hadn't yet been properly broken. His spirit was cracked, chipped slightly, his eyes were not yet completely clouded by the pain he had seen. He was still whole. At least for now.

…

Leo, despite the cuts that were slowly healing on his arm, couldn't escape the numbness that consumed him. It followed him everywhere, and he felt like he was underwater, surrounded by emptiness, trying to claw his way to the surface, where he could breathe in emotions and feelings and be whole again. Yet, everyday, the surface got further away as he sunk deeper into cold nothingness. Ada and Jacob, however, were blind to his struggles. They saw only a strange, grinning boy who enjoyed others' pain. They became certain that he was a psychopath, and after two weeks of living with them, they became terrified of him. They tried not to show it, but Leo could see the fear in their eyes, could see the way they were on edge around him and squirmed when he touched them. They stopped letting Max play with him. To his face, they would smile awkwardly and assure him that nothing was wrong and that of course they loved him, what did he mean they were afraid of him? But he could tell they were growing sick of him and his antics.

"Oh stop it, Leo!" Jacob sighed, exasperated, when Leo tried to shove him away from the kitchen sink and had started scrubbing the plates.

"You're being ridiculous!" Ada snapped when Leo had refused to eat lunch with them.

"Stop laughing at me!" Max whined when he had hit his shin on the playground and Leo had burst out laughing. "You're just mean and nasty!"

That comment had hurt the most.

Leo hurt himself more and more to escape the emotional pain. The pain of being unwanted, unloved, feared. He hurt more so he laughed more. He laughed more so he was feared more. He was feared more so he hurt more. He was trapped in a vicious cycle, but he refused to run. He just wanted to be safe. To be understood. To be loved.

It wasn't going to happen.

As soon as Jacob left for work each day, Ada would become more and more on edge. She would keep Max in her sight at all times, grabbing him and pulling him close to her whenever Leo walked in the room. She no longer tried to hide her fear of him, and Leo knew why. Max had walked into the bathroom one night and found him cutting himself, laughing and rocking as he dragged a bloody knife across his arm. Leo had leapt to his feet and begged Max not to tell his parents, but the boy had just stared at the knife in Leo's shaking hand, now pointed at him, and the bleeding cuts on his arms and screamed. He screamed and screamed and Leo couldn't silence him. Ada and Jacob confiscated his knife, terror in their eyes as if they expected him to use it against them. Leo had fallen to the floor and wailed- he had just started to feel better. The physical pain was finally replacing his emotional pain, finally silencing the voices in his head. They came back now that the knife was gone, flooding into his head with the force of a hurricane, a cacophony of insults and screams that left him crippled for hours. They had locked the bathroom door to block out his laughter. The next morning, he heard them talking about him. Ada wanted to get rid of him. She was in tears, saying that he was scaring her, that he was a psychopath, that it was a mistake to foster him. Jacob tried to reason with her. He talked to her quietly and finally managed to convince her to give Leo a chance. She would come to regret it.

A few days later, Ada decided to make some biscuits while Jacob went off to work. Max was very excited about this, and ran around her legs, sticking his fingers into the mix and stuffing his mouth with chocolate chips. He skipped around, singing and babbling, and it was clear that it was starting to fluster Ada, but she didn't dare kick him out of the kitchen to be on his own with Leo. Leo himself watched with a hollow feeling in his chest. He used to love baking with his mamá. She used to say that their me hanic's brains helped them cook- gave them the eye for exact measurements. Leo couldn't stand to watch, seeing in Ada and Max a mirror image of his past life, a little distorted and different but almost the same, so close to what his home and his mamá and his happiness had looked like that he hated it. He had the sudden desire to knock the mixing bowl to the floor and watch it smash into little pieces. He suddenly wanted to tear open the bags of flour and sugar and empty them everywhere until they couldn't possibly be used. He had a sudden urge to make Max cry, for him to know pain, and Leo loathed himself for it. His fingers twitched. He could do it if he tried.

No. Don't you dare. He thought of something his mother used to say to him:

Strong people don't put others down. They lift them up. And you are strong, mijo.

Someone had just stabbed him with a sharpened icicle. Aching frost was swallowing his heart.

You're fine.

"I can help you bake if you want." She winces. Fear in her eyes.

"No thank you. You might mess the biscuits up."

You're fine.

"Oh. Ok. Are you sure? I won't mess them up, promise. I'm good at making food." Step towards her. She shrinks back.

"No thank you. Can you get out my kitchen please? It's very off-putting."

"Ok. Sorry." Step back. She watches. She's breathing fast. Disgust. Fear.

"Don't come near me please." She's trying and failing to be polite.

"Ok. Sorry." Feeling hurt. Am I so terrifying? I'm just a child.

"Stop saying sorry."

"I'm sorry." Can't stop. She'll hurt me. They always end up hurting me.

"Why don't you just go to your room?"

"But I'm happy here." What does happy even mean?

"I don't care. I'm not happy. You're scaring Max."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying sorry!" Anger.

Leo's body shook. He was sure she was going to hit him. He couldn't stop apologising. It was habit, instinct. You do something wrong, you say sorry. If you don't, you get hurt.

Why did she hate him so much?

"I'm sor-"

"Quiet! You think this is funny? Is this a joke? Just stop!" Leo went to apologise again, but caught himself and instead buried his face in his hands to silence himself.

Just stop. It's not hard.

"Thank you." Ada sighed sadly, before turning back to Max as if Leo didn't exist. "Right. Let's make these biscuits."

Leo sank to the floor. He should just go to his room, but he couldn't make himself. Why did he always ruin things? Ada had been so nice to him to start with. She would have been happy to let him help her bake. But now he'd ruined everything and she hated him. He sat and watched them while they made the biscuits and flattened the little lumps of batter out onto a tray to put in the oven.

Maybe if he helped her, she would like him again. Maybe if he showed that he was good at baking, that he wouldn't ruin everything, that he wasn't a mistake, she wouldn't be scared anymore. He just wanted her to hug him and hold him and get rid of the emptiness inside him.

If you help her, the emptiness will go away, he told himself.

So he leapt to his feet, smile on his face

He pulled the tray from Ada's hands as she was about to place it in the oven. The mitts were near the sink. She didn't think she needed them. She cried out in protest as Leo tried to pull it out of her hands, blinded by his need to help her, not realising that he was making her life harder. They wrestled over the tray, biscuits sliding and falling.

"Let go, Leo!" She cried. Leo ignored her. He was helping her, wasn't he? He pushed the tray into the oven, lined with red-hot metal. The heat hit his skin, harnessing his power, and travelled up his hands, up his arms, responding to his desperation and fear in a flame that engulfed his forearms. It didn't affect him, but Ada screamed as the flames licked her hands and yanked them away, blistered and red. She backed away from the oven and held them to her chest, sinking to the floor and blowing on her hands, trying to soothe them. Max watched on in horror.

Leo broke.

He stared at the burns on her hands, the pain in her eyes, and fell apart. His mamá had burned because of him. Her body had been covered in blisters and burns and pain because of him. Her face and her skin had burnt away because of him.

She had died in a fire because of him.

Monster. Diablo.

Leo wanted to scream. He couldn't stand the smell of Ada's burnt skin. His stomach lurched. He braced himself with his hands and threw up, shaking. He opened his mouth and wailed. His wails transformed into laughter- high, loud, manic laughter. His eyes were those of a crazy person. They were wide and dark and glinting with insanity. He stared straight ahead and rocked back and forth, laughing uncontrollably.

"Stop it! It's not funny!" Ada was staring at him, horrified, pain in her eyes. She was braced against the sink, desperately running her hands under the tap. Leo's laughter continued, so loud they were like high, joyful screams, his voice cracking, body shaking. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked harder, eyes wide and unblinking. Ada looked terrified.

"Stop it! Be quiet! Stop laughing!" Spit frothed at Leo's open mouth. He didn't even look human. Max started to cry. Leo clutched his head, fingers gripping his hair so hard his knuckles were white. Every laugh was like a piece of him was being ripped out.

"I said stop it! You're scaring me! Stop! Stop it! STOP!" Leo rose shakily to his feet. He tried to speak but he couldn't- his words were drowned out by his laughter. He started to walk towards her, hands outstretched.

"G-get away from me! Leave us alone! Stop laughing!" There was blood under Leo's nails from dragging them down his arms, his face. Tears streamed down his cheeks. There was a crazy grin on his face.

"Stop! Stop it! Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Ada was hysterical with fear, sobbing and screeching at him, pulling Max behind her. Leo just stared at her, laughing until his throat ached and his vision spun. Ada was breathing fast, leaning back against the counter, trying to get as far away from him as possible. "You're scaring me!" She screamed. "Stop it!" Leo grinned. He couldn't help it. Ada grabbed the nearest weapon- a rolling pin. She held it in front of her.

"Stay back! Get away from us!" Leo couldn't speak, couldn't breath past his laughter. He just wanted to help her. He went to grab her burned hand. It was all his fault. He had to help her, heal her. He grinned and lunged forward, but she thought he was lunging at Max, didn't realise he was trying to grab her hand. She screamed in fear.

"GET BACK!" She swung the rolling pin, struck him across the head with it as hard as she could. It connected with a sickening crack and Leo fell to the ground. He curled into a ball, holding his head. His laughter had stopped now. His body shook and Ada now saw the tears on his face. She saw how small and thin he was. How innocent and young. He was just a child. And she'd almost killed him.

She sunk to the ground, hand over her mouth in horror at what she'd done. Tears streamed down her face.

"Oh my god. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She let out a shaky sob. "I'm so sorry. I can't do this. I can't can't do this anymore. I'm so sorry." When Jacob returned home early half and hour later, he found them in the same position- both curled and crying on the ground, blood trickling out of Leo's temple, Ada shaking and covering her mouth.

Calypso was aghast. She had never seen him as insane as he had been in the memory. She had never seen him so blind to what he was doing, to how he was affecting another person. His friends looked just as horrified. They sat in stunned silence, looking at each other, eyes wide.

"Gods." Hazel breathed, shaking. She couldn't make herself say any more. The others agreed. They were just as shocked by their friend's sudden outburst.

Calypso was confused. Yes, she had seen Leo screaming, crying, wailing and self-harming in the time she had known him. But she had also seen him laughing, smiling, dancing, hugging his friends and loving the people in his life. She had never seen him so mindless and crazed, as if he wasn't the kind, gentle person she knew he was. But maybe he wasn't gentle as a child. Maybe his experiences had removed his kindness. Maybe his selflessness now was a by-product of all his mistakes in the past. Maybe he'd had to relearn empathy to become the boy she loved and get back to the boy he was before his mother's death. The thought made her feel hollow.

…

The next day, once they were sure that Leo's head was okay, he was packed up and in Tiffany's car ready to be taken away. They had called social services the night before, Ada crying and saying the same thing over and over.

"I can't do this. I can't do this."

"Shh, it's okay." Jacob tried to comfort her. "It's not your fault." It's his. He never actually said it, but Leo knew they were both thinking it. He'd stuffed up. He'd tried to be the funny, loving child they wanted, tried to accept his new home. But instead he'd made them hate him. Eventually, they probably could have worked things out, and he could have stayed there, but he guessed he was a let down. He was a weird, scary boy that they didn't want. He waved goodbye halfheartedly as Tiffany drove him away. They sat in silence. Eventually, Tiffany spoke.

"I'm proud of you for not running, Leo."

Seriously? She was proud of him? He'd terrified a family, laughed at their pain and left them panicked and confused. She was proud that he hadn't run away. It was such a small, insignificant thing to be proud of. A normal kid wouldn't even think of running in the first place, let alone have someone be proud that they didn't. Leo stared at his lap, feeling empty. He dug his nails into his palms.

"We'll find you somewhere, Leo. Maybe this house, this family, just wasn't right. There are so many more families. There'll be one for you. Don't worry."

…

The next family was exactly the same. Hannah and Thomas. A nice young couple with a daughter. Holly. They welcomed him, and for the first week, Leo believed it would get better. But then his behaviours started to appear. He refused to eat with them. He did their chores and refused their help. They caught him hurting himself. He broke down and laughed whenever they were upset or in pain. Hannah burst into tears around him. Thomas got mad.

He lasted less than two weeks before they kicked him out. They said they couldn't handle it, that they were afraid of him, that he was insane. By this time, Leo had given up on finding a home. Depression sunk in. He drowned under feelings of abandonment and self-hatred. And these feelings took on a new form- they manifested as anger and defiance. What was the point of trying, of acting nice when you would only be feared and rejected? Tiffany struggled to get Leo to co-operate. He refused to listen to her, always talking back.

Eventually, she managed to find another foster carer who was willing to take Leo. They pulled up into the driveway and Leo shuffled after Tiffany to the door. A kind-looking, beefy man opened the door.

"Oh hey! You must be the kid I'm fostering! I'm Bruce. What's your name, kiddo?" He had a big smile and bright rosy cheeks that accentuated his double chin. Leo scowled and shrugged in response. Tiffany frowned at Leo and cleared her throat.

"This is Leo." She said. "I'm sorry if he's a little quiet- he's just shy." Leo snorted, rolling his eyes. Bruce grinned.

"Don't be shy, little dude. You're gonna love it here." He suddenly surged forward and put an arm around Leo's shoulders, and the weight of it made Leo's legs buckle. Leo ducked and shoved Bruce away from him.

"You stink." He scowled.

"Leo!" Tiffany cried. Bruce looked embarrassed. He scratched the back of his neck.

"Yeah well, I-I forgot to put deodorant on this morning. I was too busy making everything neat and tidy for you, bud." Leo rolled his eyes.

"Sure." He said sarcastically. Tiffany pursed her lips.

"I have some forms here for you to sign, Mr Roberts."

"Right, of course." Bruce hurried to sign them, still looking hurt.

Leo watched him. He seemed to be a nice man, with a big smile and a loud, booming laugh. Despite his size, Bruce seemed surprisingly gentle and kind. He reminded Leo of Pumba, the pig from The Lion King. It was one of the only movies Leo had ever seen.

He seemed nice, and seemed genuinely excited to be fostering Leo, but Leo didn't buy it. He would be the same as all the others- kind and friendly at first, but horrified and disgusted when he saw what Leo was really like. What was the point in trying to accept him as a foster father? What was the point in being polite? What was the point in trying to settle into his new home, to start feeling safe, only to be slapped with the pain of rejection once again? There was no point. Leo knew he couldn't take the pain again. To know that, no matter how good, how kind, how polite he tried to be, he wasn't good enough. Leo decided that instead of trying to be loveable, he would be hateable instead. He would see how far he could push it, how far he could go before Bruce reached his breaking point. How much of Leo could he take? There was always a breaking point, better to find it sooner rather than later. It meant less pain.

As soon as Tiffany was gone, and Bruce had closed the door, Leo turned on him.

"This house is gross." He sneered. Bruce shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry you don't like it, bud, but it's all I can afford. Was your house with your mum nicer than this?" Leo flinched.

"Shut up."

"Excuse me?"

"I said shut up! You think you can talk about my mamá?"

"Ah jeez. I'm sorry. Of course you'd be upset talking about her. I didn't think."

"Well that's obvious. You don't have much of a brain." Bruce blinked in surprise.

"That's not very nice Leo." Leo rolled his eyes.

"That's not very nice Leo." He mimicked, mocking Bruce's slight lisp. Bruce frowned, hurt.

"W-well, anyway, you want to see your room? I made it all nice for you. I bought new sheets a-and there's a lava lamp in there. It's really cool. I was so excited when I saw it. I just knew you'd like it. Isn't that weird? I didn't even know you but I just felt that you'd like it." He said the words fast like an excited little kid. Leo rolled his eyes again. He didn't even know what a lava lamp was, but he followed Bruce to the room. As promised, it was freshly cleaned and there were crisp new sheets on the bed, bright blue. And on the desk in the corner sat what must have been the lava lamp. Bruce rushed over to it.

"I turned it on before you came so that it'd be properly heated up. Isn't it cool?"

It was. It was a glass tube filled with blue liquid, and, glowing like they were something from another planet, fluorescent bubbles of another yellow liquid rose and fell in mesmerising patterns. Leo stared, transfixed. He'd never seen anything so amazing in all his life. A grin spread across his face, and for once it wasn't triggered by sadness or pain.

"So?" Bruce prompted. "What do you think?" Leo forced a scowl onto his face.

"It's stupid." Bruce's face crumpled.

"Oh." He looked down. Leo almost felt bad.

No. This is the better option. Better than hoping and then hurting.

He dumped his duffel bag onto the bed.

"I'm hungry."

"Right. Of course. I'm sorry." Bruce quickly straightened up. "Come with me."

"No."

"Huh?"

"I'm not coming. You can get food for me." Bruce furrowed his eyebrows.

"What if I get the wrong thing?"

"Then I'll make you get something else. Hurry up!" Bruce gave him a confused look, before shuffling off to the kitchen. Leo collapsed onto the bed. He didn't feel good about how he was treating Bruce. The poor guy was just trying to be nice, and Leo was being cruel. His mother would be so disappointed in him. Leo pushed the thought aside as Bruce returned with a peanut butter sandwich. Leo wrinkled his nose.

"I hate peanut butter."

"Oh. I'll get you something else. But, you know, peanut butter is actually very good."

"Whatever." Leo rolled his eyes.

…

Over the next few days, Leo continued to be a pain. He refused to help, gave sarcastic answers to any questions he was asked, rolled his eyes at everything Bruce said. He felt angry every time Bruce looked hurt. He wanted to punch something every time Bruce told him that he was a good kid. He wanted to scream at him every time he mentioned his mamá. He started to ignore Bruce when he spoke. He purposely knocked over picture frames and books and vases and tried to make a mess. But Bruce never got angry, only looked at Leo with a disappointed, sad look on his face, as if he could see Leo was wasting his potential. This infuriated Leo so much he wanted to scream. He couldn't run- he was still bound by his promise, and he knew that the minute he relaxed around Bruce and decided that maybe he was worth accepting as a parent, or that maybe this house was okay, or made himself vulnerable and showed who he really was, Bruce would hate him and get rid of him and break Leo more. He was trapped. He needed Bruce to get mad, to have had enough, to give up, or he knew it would all only end in pain.

Despite his efforts, Leo couldn't completely hide his behaviours. He refused to eat with Bruce. He claimed that it was because Bruce was disgusting, but when Bruce walked in on Leo eating in his room and Leo practically threw the food across the room away from himself, terror in his eyes, it was obvious that Bruce's hygiene wasn't the problem. Leo still did Bruce's chores, despite trying to make mess and havoc. It's hard to claim you don't care about mess when you obsessively clean and fold everything a minute later. Leo's laughter still controlled him. Whenever Bruce hurt himself, Leo would run and lock himself in his room to hide the outbursts of laughter that ripped him to shreds.

Whenever Bruce asked him about any of his strange behaviours, Leo would yell and scream things in Spanish that his mother would have been horrified to hear him saying. And despite Leo's tough-guy act, if he'd just relaxed and not worried about what Bruce would think about the real him, he would have noticed that Bruce didn't care that Leo was weird. He didn't care that he was broken and strange. He saw through Leo's act and he didn't hate him for what he saw. He didn't reject him or fear him. He just wanted him to be happy.

By the time Leo realised that, it would be many years too late.

…

One day, when Leo had yelled at Bruce for mentioning his mother, Bruce had looked at him and said quietly,

"You know, you probably think I'm oblivious and stupid and that I don't understand how you're feeling, but I do." Leo snorted.

"Sure."

"It's true. I know what it's like to live on the streets. I was homeless for the first seven years of my life. My mom left me in an alleyway all alone as a baby. I had to survive in a cardboard box. No one helped me. When I finally managed to get my life together and get off the streets, I went to find her. I still loved her, I didn't hold what she did against her. It's a normal thing for my kind to leave our children on the streets. But I was too late. She had been killed- murdered by one of your kind."

"M-my kind? What are you talking about?"

"I was angry at first, and very upset. But then I realised. My mother's murderer killed her because the poor little girl was just was scared. She was just a child and she was scared. I knew what it was like to be scared, to be alone, to have someone come towards you and try to hurt you. So I don't hold it against that girl, or the boy and girl who were with her. Annabeth was the girl's name. Well, I don't hold it against her kind. I don't hold it against any of your kind. I just want to make sure no more children are scared."

All eyes turned to Annabeth. She stared at the memory in shock.

"He… he can't be talking about me. It must be another Annabeth." She laughed. "Weird coincidence."

Tears welled up in Bruce's eyes. Leo glanced at him and stepped back in shock. Looking at Bruce out of the corner of his eyes, Leo swore he saw not two eyes, but one big, brown eye in the middle of his face, shining with tears.

"Gods," Percy said, looking at Annabeth. "You don't think that's… That can't be the- The cyclops you and Thalia and Luke… the one you killed? Bruce is…" His sentences were broken with shock, but Annabeth understood.

"I'm the Annabeth he's talking about. I killed his mom." Annabeth shook her head in wonder. "Leo met that thing's son? I'm surprised Bruce is so gentle. His mom certainly wasn't."

Despite the fact that Bruce was gentle, Leo was terrified. He backed away, holding his hands in front of him as if to block Bruce.

"Y-you… you're… you're a-"

"Don't be scared, Leo."

"You're a monster!" Bruce looked hurt.

"No. I'm just like you. I won't hurt you, I promise. Please. Don't be scared. No more scared children." He started to cry. "Why are they always scared?" Leo took one last horrified look at Bruce, now sure that he was a horrible one-eyed monster, and ran to his room.

"Leo wait!" Bruce cried. He tried to grab Leo's wrist, but misjudged his own strength and gripped him too hard. Leo's joints popped and he cried out in pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Wait!" But Leo had already reached his room. He braced the door with a chair and ran around the room, shoving things into his duffel bag. Then he pulled the glass window open and kicked the fly-wire out of his frame. He slid out and landed in the garden bed just as Bruce opened the door.

"Leo, please! I'm not like other monsters! I want to help you!" Leo started to run, heart racing, arm throbbing.

"Leo wait!" Bruce screamed, but he could only fit up to his shoulders out the window.

"Leo there are others like you! There's a camp! You need to go there! You need to-"

His voice was lost in the distance as Leo ran.