Twist of Flames // Leo Valdez AU #TwistFateChallenge #TwistOfFateChallenge

one // Leo Valdez

          "THE ARGO II IS MAJESTIC," I continuously hear myself thinking, despite the constant roaring of the sea and monsters' sounds from hitting their heads against the hull and body. But of course, how could I possibly know? I've always been up in the controls or under deck with the creaking gears of the ship. The horses never liked me, so I would I go anywhere near the stables?

           "But why a flying boat?" People like Frank would ask. I'd lightly considered it. Sure, I could've made any air-vehicle—an airplane! Although, I wouldn't get to call it the Argo II if it was a plane. I didn't get why people had to question my decisions when I made the ship with all these cool add-ons, which, they never really needed or asked for in the first place.

          I have never heard even one 'thank you' from them. It had always been "it's all your fault, Leo," or "pass the magical salt-shaker, Leo," or "one of the horses did it again, Leo." I am Repair Boy after all, but I can't seem to fix my own life.

          Because how can a seventh fit in a six-wheel drive car after all?

          In a sudden jolt of movement, I was thrown off my feet and onto one of the gears that seemed to have stopped. I sigh. So I had to be down here when this happens. I shake my head my head and count soundlessly; one...two...three...

          "Leo!" calls one of them. I sigh again and say, "On it," when that seems to be the only monologue I've been uttering since we got on board, and here. Move on, I think, as I try to pull myself away from one of the cogs—and rip!

          Great, to make everything else so much better. I look down to see my shirt torn up front. In one of the only shiny gears, I slick back my hair, and think, hey, I look like John Travolta.

          I wish for a flashlight when I stick my hand into my tool belt, and I get—

          A banana.

          'Way to make things worse, Dad,' I pray, then shove it back into one of the pockets and I pull out a wrench instead, and somehow, the creaking of the wrench against the bolts comforted me, until the engine revs to life.

          To avoid being called to fix everything again—which is inevitable—I climb the steps to the deck, and everyone is gathered around Coach Hedge who was animatedly telling a story, but all I caught was him swinging his arms up and down saying "DIE! DIE! DIE!" and suddenly, nothing at all, because everyone stops to look at me.

          "Guys—I know I look hot, but please, stop staring." Frank coughs, and I smile.

          Annabeth raises her eyebrow. "What exactly did you do down there?"

          "What else?" I ask, on the brink of being pissed, but this is Annabeth, people, you shouldn't get on her bad side. "I fix stuff," I say, raising the banana to her.

          "And does 'fixing stuff'," she air quotes, "require you to tear your shirt apart?"

          I wanted to tell her it wasn't my fault that the gears would want eat my clothes up, when the Argo II shifts unusually, and one of the monitors blink red lights.

          Not again...