ﾟ･stars were made for falling ﾟ･ (original)

17- the waterbearer's chalice

And again, time stretched heavily in between one nightlight trip and the next- it was eleven long, boring days until they were needed again. The breaks had started to feel less like breaks to Leo, and more like a strange, boring purgatory with everyone waiting around with bated breath for something to happen. Especially with the revelation that they only had two more nightlights to find- that, in of itself, was exciting. Of course, half of Gemini was missing, with Aldrich telling them that one of its halves rested securely in the Citadel, so they were sure they'd need to find that as well, but for the time being, their goal felt closer than ever.

The Citadel themselves only had the Gauntlet and half of the Pendant, meaning they truly had the upper hand on them for once. Leo didn't think it was out of skill, like Ivan clearly did- he was convinced it was more out of luck than anything else. They'd just been lucky, that was all. Really, it could have gone either way most times, they'd just so happened to be that much faster. He didn't feel like it was anything to brag about, not at all.

Besides, he didn't feel like they'd won much of anything, with the way his nightmares continued to terrorize both him and Casper. During their break, of course, they'd dulled a little, but they didn't stop; the only thing as consistent as they were was Casper, who'd always sit with him, usually wrapped in a blanket now, talking about something mildly interesting.

Even if he was falling asleep, Casper talking always stuck with him; he'd always talk about something he liked, whether it be a book he read two years ago that never left his mind, some random botany facts he enjoyed, a verbal essay on his favorite food and why it was his favorite (it was some kind of pasta, though Leo couldn't remember what,) it was always something worth listening to. And sometimes, on more rare occasions, Casper would talk about Percy, but he only did that when he thought Leo was asleep.

It was never anything much, just small things they used to do as kids, and he never dwelled on it long. Little, golden memories people usually forget, unless they're trying in vain to hold onto them; long-gone games of hide and seek or tag, stupid dares exchanged in the backyard, snowball fights during snows melted eons ago... Something about the memories made him feel both light and heavy at the same time, and he couldn't help but miss Ava whenever he heard them.

Ava, who was so naturally talented at most things, who teased him relentlessly, who he'd never failed to stand up for. Even after every argument they'd had, she'd always show up in his doorway, sheepishly asking him if he wanted to play video games downstairs with her. Maybe that's why he loved the stories of Percy so much- gloomy, clumsy Casper, with his flawlessly sunny, energetic brother, exploring the woods together and keeping secrets from their caretakers. Putting time and effort into planning a future together in which they ruled the world, in which no one would ever hurt them again, only to have it ripped away...

He tried not to let Casper see him crying over it, burying his face in his pillow. I'll be home soon, he reminded himself every time he felt his eyes start to sting. I'll be home soon, and we can hang out again. Ava's fine, Mom's fine... they're both fine. I shouldn't be so worried.

One thing about the nightmares that he was grateful for was the fact that they were just that: nightmares. Not visions, not flashbacks, not anything special- just good ol' fashioned nightmares that were scary and obscure, not making much sense when you woke up. At least the Lightbringer was giving him a break, at least it wasn't something that could potentially be important.

And of course in between the nights came the short, bitterly cold days, where Leo was simultaneously curious of the temperature and terrified to see what it might be. Liz and Miles were sure that it never got too cold during December, especially so early on, but Leo was still skeptical. Whatever their thoughts, he and Casper never lingered in the open much, taking shelter in the greenhouse, barn or farmhouse, trying to stay out of the cruel wind. If anything, it felt like it was somehow getting colder, though Leo had no real way to know, aside from a strange gut feeling he had about it. Ancient instinct told him to hide away somewhere, maybe sleep and eat, and do little else while the world went to the dogs outside- hide away from the chill, huddle next to a fire with the ones you love. Of course, the chores had to be done, so there was no doing that.