Work Text:
i.
“We’re not going, I don’t care what you’re offering.”
Michael said this with extreme certainty. He had never been more sure of anything in his existence except this fact: He and the Apollo cabin would not accompany the other cabins to the battle.
This war meeting had already proven to be disastrous. Clarisse was mad, madder than Michael was. She had the chariot, it was hers, Michael needed to suck it up and be a man for once. She said it in such a way you could tell it was a jab at his height. But Michael had stood strong on the Apollo cabin not accompanying the rest of camp to battle.
He was being stubborn. He was being selfish. He was only thinking of a single person, really. But he didn’t care. He needed his siblings alive, breathing. Particularly…
Clarisse narrowed her eyes. “Is this for that little boy you love so much? Will Solace? Tough shit! We’re all risking our lives! You’re not any more special and neither is he.” Even as she said this, Michael saw the briefest hint of sympathy. Clarisse wasn’t keen on this. She was almost as protective as Michael was of his cabin as she was of hers. But she also had more of a keen sense of duty then he did.
Michael was more selfish. He was driven almost entirely by one thing. He knew that, Clarisse knew that, the rest of the cabin counselors did. He would risk everyone in this room for Will. And the rest of his siblings. He’d risk people he’s known and fought alongside for years for his brother, with his gently curly hair, and big curious eyes. Michael was sure no one mattered to him as much as Will did. The thought made him swallow thickly. They didn’t know Will. If they did, they’d love him just as much.
The sense of impending doom didn’t help. The dream last night nor the appearance from Apollo days prior hadn’t squashed a feeling he knew he’d have to confront. His time was running short. But if he perished… no. He wouldn’t. Which led to this. The chariot had been an easy excuse. But of course, despite all the layers and covers he put on his emotions, the mask he had formed as, “angry violent unmoved Michael Yew!” was crumbling. Even Percy knew what this was about.
And he hated it. He hated these people and their assumptions, assuming Will was just a little boy who could be replaced. It moved his anger. Everyone should die. He didn’t care. He didn’t even care that he was being beyond selfish. That these people also might’ve had their own Will Solace. (He doubted any of them cared as much about their siblings as he did.)
Not only that but Kronos would almost surely handle the healers first. There would be no one left. Michael would swallow and accept his death. Maybe for camp. Maybe for just his siblings. But more than Michael would die. And he especially couldn’t accept the notion that the best healer in camp would…
He shook his head. He knew his eye was twitching. The tears were coming on too but he couldn’t cry. He needed to seem angry.
“You took the chariot and claimed it was your own. I don’t like that, Clarisse. You don’t get to do that shit and act like I should accompany any of you.” He felt Percy staring at him. Not angrily. More… concerned.
Percy blinked slowly. He was irritated, but Percy naturally didn’t hate anyone for anything (Luke big exception), and he seemed to see past the mask better than Clarisse. After all, Michael had made Percy promise him something.
“I’ll handle Alison myself if you make sure Will is okay.” Michael had asked. Before the battle before the Labyrinth. “Please.” The word was foreign in his voice. He never uttered the word to anyone. But this time it was serious. He needed to put his emotions, his dignity, aside.
Percy nodded quickly. “I swear to Styx I’ll take care of him, Mike. Just… make sure Alison is finished.”
They shook on it. There was a mutual air of “let’s not tell anyone this.” But Michael was so close to letting it be known naturally.
“Michael.” Percy had on a warmer voice. “I get it. Your pride is wounded. But remember. This isn’t for just one of us. We all need to fight. For camp. For Olympus-”
Olympus could’ve burned clean to the ground and no God ever existed again and Michael wouldn’t have cared. But he knew without the Gods he couldn’t live peacefully. He couldn’t make good on his promise to take Will to his homeland, just them.
“You guys got this.” He pressed his dagger into the pool table. “You’ll be fine. Maybe ask Apollo to heal your wounded since you care so little about the ones you already have.”
With that, he threw his helmet down and walked out. He was fuming. He was angry. But worse, that impending sense of doom and Apollo’s words were echoing through him so badly he wanted to rip his hair out.
“You won’t be here forever, Michael. Let him grow on his own.” His worthless father said. Lee was in some mass grave, body mutilated beyond recognition and Apollo just wanted to talk to him about his protectiveness. Apollo could burn with the rest of them.
Of course, his cabin was waiting. Michael nearly passed out at the sight. Some were older, nearly his age, putting on a braver face. But there was Will, Austin, Kayla. Austin was the youngest. His 10th birthday was in a month. He was trembling though tried to look cool but positioning his saxophone just so. Kayla was less masked and her bow kept falling. An older camper kept handing it to her and patting her hair.
And Will who didn’t fight and couldn’t fight. Armed with nothing but the worst raggedy armor and a small dagger he wouldn’t be able to fight with, and his med bag. The red cross stitched on his shirt didn’t help. Clear target for Kronos and his army. Austin and Kayla had a bit of a chance. If someone on the opposite side cornered Will…
No.
An older camper, Michael’s second-in-command, inclined her head. A curious look.
“What’s the word, boss?” She asked. Michael could already see her dead, guts spilling out. The sight disturbed him. ‘
“We’re not fighting.” He said explicitly.
Everyone looked shocked though relief was there. Kayla’s bow steadied and she sighed. Austin blinked slowly.
“Oh wow.” Austin said simply. “Wow. Wow. Um. Okay.” He tried to head back to the cabin, but Kayla grabbed him by the cuff of his oversized shirt.
“So… what do we do then?” Kayla asked. They all stared. Michael felt Will’s gaze the hardest, as he always did.
He couldn’t say, we live. He couldn’t say, we relax. He couldn’t stop feeling near endless guilt, that doomed feeling, the words Apollo said.
“Sooner or later, you will make your choice.”
“We wait.” Michael said.
Everyone left. Michael and the rest of the campers were there.
To soothe himself, he replayed killing Alison in his mind. He replayed meeting Will, hugging Will, smiling brightly at him.
The cabin was quiet. The camp was quiet.
Will was near him. His eyes were reflecting some unknown emotion. He blinked slowly, tilted his head. Michael resisted the urge to hug him and break down sobbing. “I did this for you. I’d sacrifice everyone for you. Will. Will.”
Will came closer. He touched Michael’s arm. “Maike.” That silly nickname he picked up from Lee. Lee called him Maike, due to the Mandarin translation of his name being that. Will picked it up and now it had been an inside joke, the three of them originally, until Kayla arrived. She was in on the joke, though she’d say Xiaoyi, because she thought his legal name was funnier.
Lee was dead. He was gone. Michael told his mom. Michael told Will. Michael wasn’t telling Naomi anything today or anytime soon.
“What’s up?” Michael asked softly. Campers had teased him about him having a, “Will voice” that soft voice he only used for his baby brother. Michael usually tried to stab them for saying that. He wasn’t soft.
But he was.
“We should fight.” Will says. He shushed Michael the second he tried to interrupt. “I know… I know you’re scared. I know it’s scary. That some of us might… um. Die. But what if they lose because we’re not here?”
Sooner or later, you will have to make your choice.
“No. I can’t lose yo- them. Us. You. Whatever. I can’t lose anyone.” He stood. Will was taller. He didn’t want to think of Will never hitting six feet, like they joked he would. “Not yo- us. We all deserve to live.” He was talking quickly, pacing. He was never like this. He shouldn’t be like this. He was tough, unmovable Michael Yew. Not some whiny kid who couldn’t accept the truth.
Will’s eyes were as strong as steel. He looked at Michael with such a look Michael knew he was copying it from him. He nearly laughed. I taught him everything he knows.
“We’re going to fight. Michael, I have friends! I know I can’t really- um- fight but I want to save people. I can’t live with knowing my friends died because I wasn’t there. Maike, please. Please. Please.” Will begged. He even teared up and a tear fell.
Michael built his image on being tough. Angry. Violent enough to rival an Ares kid. He didn’t move, he refused to negotiate unless it went the way he wanted. He didn’t care for anyone. He was not one to bargain with those he didn’t agree with.
But Will. His silly, giggly baby brother whose doctor coat didn’t quite fit, who watched him fight and cheered him on, William Andrew Solace, always broke him. He couldn’t say no. He couldn’t argue. Will had him wrapped around his finger. Selfless. Kind. Everything Michael was not. Everything he could never be. Not naturally.
He looked down. He blinked. The tears faded. His ire did. His selfishness told him no, still. But Will wasn’t one he’d ever argue with. He would never do that.
“Okay. Sure.” He said simply. And that was it. His siblings all gathered their weapons. Michael stared at Will. Curse him. He loved Will so much it hurt, but now it hurt so badly he could barely stand.
Will just smiled and wiped his eye. Already bigger than his older brother at the ripe age of 13. “It’s okay, Maike. I love you. I’ll be okay. I swear on Styx I will.”
Michael said nothing. He had swallowed his pride, his ego, his selfishness, his entire being. He looked at Will. “You too.” We might die, and you can’t even say “I love you” back.
He recalls Apollo’s words, as he almost always does. Apollo looks like Will. “You’ve known your fate, your destiny. Do not run.” He hates Apollo so much that he can’t even breathe.
His siblings exited the cabin. They all knew what to wait for. They were smart kids. Michael prayed for each one, even if he hadn’t prayed in years. Survive. He thought. Not out loud. He had no words. The impending doom feeling was at its worst.
Michael stared as Silena flew down on the black Pegasus.