When Harley Says Connected, He Really Does Mean It

A.N. Yet another old repost from my ao3, also a one shot!

As soon as his taxi arrives at the edge of camp, Harley throws a few bills into the passenger seat yelling "Keep the change mister!" and runs as fast as his unfortunately short ten-year-old legs will let him. He passes the Big House first, catching a glimpse of Mr. D and Chiron on the porch, each holding a hand of cards. Chiron watches the boy go with an amused smile, and by the time he looks back at his game of pinochle, Dionysus is scowling at him, waiting for him to take his turn.

It's high noon and Harley knows where most, if not all, of his siblings will be. Not far behind the Big House is the forge and when he sees it, Harley involuntarily smiles. He skids to a stop outside the entrance, to catch his breath for a moment. His heart is pounding, not from the physical exercise, but from excitement. It takes a second to wrangle his heartbeat into something more manageable, using the time to breathe in the scent of smoke and oil, and fill his ears with the familiar clanging that he looks forward to all year. It's almost New Year's and Harley is never here at this time of the year, but after hours and hours of begging his mom, she had relented and bought the plane ticket.

Finally, he steps forward, pushing open the heavy iron doors with more strength than he should have, and a wave of heat and sweat slams into him. Harley closes his eyes and relishes in it.

The forge is emptier than usual—only seven of his thirteen siblings are present—but that's to be expected during the holidays. Even so, he can see his siblings hard at work at their usual stations. Nyssa is at the table closest to him, hands gripping a deadly sharp piece of metal as she pounds it into shape. Her bandana is slipping onto her forehead and her face is pulled taut in concentration. Harley can see why Leo always says she looks straight out of an action movie. The rest of his siblings are the same: buried in their work, their eyes seeing nothing but the invention in front of them.

Harley needs to get their attention.

He briefly considers banging on the spare sheet of metal beside him with a hammer, but he knows that the sound will just blend into the background. He chews his lip thoughtfully, then darts over to his workstation and ducks underneath the table.

His space is exactly how he had left it in August. No one messes with Harley's station. All his siblings know to steer clear of his projects because they are loud. And destructive. Ever since Leo broke the curse of Cabin 9, Harley's inventions have steadily gotten more and more disastrous, in the best way possible. His siblings are, of course, proud, and more than a little terrified. Harley loves the reputation he's built.

Running his fingers over his precious assortment of creations, he hums slightly and makes his decision. He hoists the chosen gun onto his right shoulder, swiftly flips a few switches, aims, and fires. He watches with a smirk as a deep red projectile emerges and shoots into the ceiling above him.

The explosion that follows shakes the foundations of the forge, and more than a few of his siblings stumble in place, their concentration broken. The children of Hephaestus are used to loud noises and fires, but they can't ignore the plaster and dust falling into their eyes and hair, and they definitely can't ignore the large gaping hole in the roof.

All seven of his siblings snap their heads to the entrance where he stands, one hip cocked and his precious gun dangling at his side. When they look at him, it's with a combination of fondness and irritation.

"What the Hades, Harls?" Topaz snaps, more exasperated than angry, threading tiny bits of stone out of their hair.

He can tell they're excited to see him here, but the fact that he's just blown a hole in the ceiling probably takes priority.