𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿; heroes of olympus

friends' turmoil

FRANK ZHANG
AFTER watching his girlfriend be poisoned and her brother be turned into a vegetable, killing over a hundred monsters, getting lit with the blessing of Mars, and then meeting his father only for him to blowup, you'd think Frank's day couldn't get any worse.

Boy, was he wrong.

As soon as he got back to the ship they set off to gods' knew where, and Frank went to crash.

He, to put it lightly, felt like shit. He felt like a child of Mars―which he was, but he'd never wanted to be. He'd slaughtered thousands upon thousands of mostly harmless monsters, and for what? To please his father?

Sure, he had kept his friends safe, but at what cost? He felt like a murderer. He couldn't look in the mirror without feeling sick.

So after making it very clear he didn't want to talk―which he felt kind of bad about, because Hazel had looked really worried, and since they had just started dating, he didn't really want to shut her out. But he had, and then he'd walked into his cabin, locked the door, and crashed.

Sleep came surprisingly easily for his disturbed mind. The voices of his father had temporarily shut off, which probably had something to do with his short meeting with Frank.

This was the part where his day got worse: his dreams.

―

LIKE all demigods, Frank had dreams about real events.

First he saw Jasper and Reyna.

Jasper had grown to be one of Frank's closest friends. On their journey to Alaska and back, Jasper had proven his worth. He was charming, vicious, and sharp-witted. Frank admired him. Plus, the four of them had made quite a team.

Frank tried not to think about Jasper lately. Or that quest in general. He had no idea how the Roman was doing, and Percy was in Tartarus. Even Hazel seemed more distant and reserved, as if she was slowly becoming something new, and not necessarily good. Her golden eyes seemed darker lately.

As for Reyna, Frank respected her to no end. She was strong, bold, and overall a good person. Frank wished he could've spent more time with her before he left for... this.

In his dream, Jasper had his hands on Reyna's shoulders. His dark eyes were bright and intense. "Rey," he was saying, "we have to."

Reyna looked more shaken than Frank had ever seen her. Her hair was in a braid, but the braid was a mess. Her chin trembled as if she was about to cry, but she looked more panicked then angry.

She pulled away from Jasper. "You don't understand! If I leave the legion to Octavian―"

"I know," Jasper said, his voice terse and barely contained. He took a shaky breath. "I can stay."

She whirled on him, braid flying. "No! I―" her voice caught, and Frank's heart skipped a beat. He didn't think she was capable of crying. She took a deep breath, composing herself, then said, "You can't stay. I can't do this alone."

Jasper studied her quietly. "You always do things alone."

She bared her teeth, and for a scary minute Frank thought she was going to hit Jasper. Then she did something even more surprising: she slammed into his chest and began to shake, her body wracking with sobs. Jasper hesitated, his face a mask of uncertainty, then gently wrapped his arms around her, tucking his chin into her hair.