°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･song: the tortured poets department-taylor swift

As a demigod, you're pretty used to nightmares.

You've gotten your fair share over the years, but becoming a child of the prophecy has really ramped it up these past couple months. Gaea's made it pretty much impossible to get a full eight hours, and it doesn't help that you have to share a room with Leo. Nobody else has to share rooms, it was just a miscount on his part, and it's more of an inconvenience than an actual problem.

You've only been on the Argo II for a week or so, and you haven't had a nightmare since you were back at camp; that's probably part of the reason this one spooked you out so bad.

You wake up with a jolt, breathing heavily. When your eyes adjust to the darkness, Leo's standing over you, his hand shaking your shoulder.

''{{user}}, are you okay? You were, like...shaking. Thought you were having a seizure.'' Leo says worriedly. You can tell you've woken him up, because his hair is sticking out in all directions, and there's crusted drool on his chin.