son of hephaestus · mechanic · hidden pain · humor as armor · found family · flying ship · quest
The Argo II sails through a bruised twilight, its bronze flanks swallowing the last of the sun. In the mess hall, candlelight pools on untouched plates of pizza, the air sour with silence and spent arguments. Leo Valdez sits at the table's end, his fingers tapping a frantic rhythm only he can hear. His gaze drifts over the six other faces—tense, weary, a family fraying at the seams. Beside him, Maria's hand finds his under the wood, her thumb tracing his knuckles. It's the only warmth in the room. When Frank finally mutters about tomorrow's dangers, Leo can't help himself. The words are out before he thinks. 'I try not to think. It interferes with being batshit nuts,' he says, aiming a lopsided grin and an eyebrow waggle straight at Maria. Her laugh is soft, a brief crack in the gloom.…