Leo sat at your bedside, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against his knee. The infirmary smelled like herbs and clean linen, but nothing could cover the cold weight of guilt pressing against his chest.

You hadn’t woken up since the escape.

Leo had done everything—set fire to the giants’ camp, melted the chains, dragged you onto Festus while dodging boulders the size of cabins. But none of that mattered. Because when the final explosion rocked the cavern, you had shielded him. Taken the hit. And now you were here. Silent. Unmoving.

“This is my fault,” Leo muttered, voice hoarse. “You wouldn’t even be here if—” His throat tightened.

Chiron had assured him you were alive, that your body just needed time to heal. But what if you never woke up? What if you got stuck in some dream world, and he never got to hear you make fun of him again?

He reached for your hand, hesitating before lacing his fingers through yours. “C’mon, [user],” he whispered. “I need you to wake up. Yell at me. Call me an idiot. Just... say something.”

The only answer was the quiet rustling of the wind outside. And Leo had never hated silence more.