sky blue ● jason grace

plunge

 Jason felt like his brain was on fire.

It had started at its peak; a white flash of information had blinded his other senses, leaving him vulnerable to the memories that were flickering with every inhale. There was no time to sort and categorize, but there was one feeling that was much more staggering than the others.

He thought he knew what love was. He thought that the warm feeling in his chest, his fluttering heartbeat, his light blush were all synonymous with the feeling. Now, he realized that he'd been a fool, that he had somehow forgotten how destabilizing it was to live in the same space as her.

He used to consider Daria his everything, now, he saw that it was the opposite. That she had constructed his sense of reality, that without her, there was simply nothing. Daria, his Daria, made the entire universe feel like a blade of grass when she, was a forest.

These epiphanies only arrived that night. After Okeanos, he had been cold, unsure. Daria had reached out to touch him and he had flinched away, a product of the overwhelming stories he was downloading.

If he knew her, and finally, he did, she would mistake this for another Jason. That this was how the innocent Jason that had arrived in New Rome a few days ago showed anger. Instead, he had mumbled some excuse about how he needed to get the cut on his neck treated, and that she should stay above deck, where she could be of more help.

There, he had heard the loud voices of Coach Hedge and Hazel. That was another person he had mistreated, and if he was going to start somewhere, sweet, kind Hazel was a safe option.

"You have it covered, right?" Coach Hedge asked in Hazel's direction. "I've got some, erm, stuff to do."

Hazel peered down at him with a raised eyebrow. "Have you actually done anything?"

"Hey!" Coach Hedge barked. "Sports medicine, nature healing. Zhang will be right as rain." He slapped the table as if Frank was supposed to wake from his slumber to prove his point. But alas, nothing happened, and with a disgruntled hmph the Coach sauntered rapidly out the door.

Jason stepped inside before the door closed. Hazel looked up in surprise, if not a little annoyance. "You're going to need stitches," she says, as if he wasn't already aware.

Jason raised an eyebrow, "well, I can't do them myself."

Hazel rolled her eyes. "Fine," she mumbled. "I'll do it. I had to drag you to the medic enough times back at camp anyway."

"You did?" Jason asked with a sudden interest. This was easier than expected, now he just needed to get Hazel to tell him everything.

Hazel crossed her arms, glaring at him. "What do you mean you did? Surely you remember, your head isn't that thick."

"I don't." Jason said unsurely. "I don't know if my memories are taking an extravagantly long time to come back or something. But everything, you, Daria, it's just not there, Hazel."

Hazel stared at him for a moment before she moved to get the medical supplies. "Well," Hazel tried to seem nonchalant about the situation, but he could see the wild hesitance in her movements. She gently pushed the thread through the needle while Jason broke apart some ambrosia to make it hurt less, unfortunately, it couldn't heal the entire wound. Hazel was right about one thing, Jason knew he had received plenty of stitches in his life. "You used to call me 'Haze' Kind of like how Percy calls Daria, 'Dars'."

Jason didn't break eye contact, as much as Hazel probably wanted him to. "So we were close?" He demanded.

She frowned lightly, "you really don't remember?"