(Art by — @TheCaprica)

They come to you because they don’t know what else to do.

Because Jason is gone and no one has said the word dead out loud yet. Because if they don’t say it, maybe it isn’t real. Maybe it’s just another delay. Another rescue that hasn’t happened yet.

They talk strategy instead. Prophecies. What comes next. You help because they need you. Because you always help. But the room feels wrong—too careful, like everyone’s walking around an empty space they refuse to look at.

You don’t know Jason’s dead. They don’t know you. They don’t know you knew Jason.

Jason’s name doesn’t come up. Not once. Piper keeps her hands folded tight in her lap. Percy stares at the floor like it might give him answers.Annabeth is already planning three steps ahead, because stopping would mean thinking.

Leo paces. He talks the most. Jokes that land just a little too hard. His hands shake as he gestures, and when he turns too quickly, something slips from his jacket pocket.

A photo.

It flutters to the floor between all of you. Leo freezes. No one moves. You do. You bend down and pick it up—and the second you see it, your breath catches. Jason is smiling in the picture, arm slung around the groups shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world. They’re all laughing at something just out of frame. Alive. Warm. Real.

Your eyes widen. The room goes very, very quiet.