Hi everyone! I'm back! I wasn't going to update this, but then I got a wonderful email from the lovely sagittarianbookworrm that changed my mind. If any of you would like to email me or the characters from the story, the address is mtolympusjuniorhigh . All the information is on my profile. I would love to hear from you guys!

Anyway, sorry for the long wait. I can't promise I'm going to be updating regularly, but I will try not to leave you guys hanging again. Enjoy!

Apollo

"I hate taking apart my bridle," Dionysus complains, trying desperately to separate the bit from the cheek piece. For those of you that don't have to clean tack, you have no idea how hard that is. The buckle is this little hook-thing, and you have to pull on hard, stiff leather to get it to come undone.

"It just had to rain today, didn't it?" Athena mutters angrily. Her own bridle is in a pile of pieces on the ground, each one soaked in rainwater. It started pouring in the middle of practice, and water is terrible for leather.

"Ew," Ares groans, holding up a bit caked with half-chewed grass, "my bit is disgusting. Thanks, Warrior." Just then, the door swings open. An irritated-looking Summer, her blonde hair plastered to her face with rainwater, pokes her head in.

"Crystal wants you," She tells us, "she got a new horse, or something." She smirks. "He looks crazy. One of you is gonna have to train him, so have fun with that." We eagerly exit the tack room, leaving our bridles in pieces on the floor. Anything beats cleaning wet tack, even working with a green horse (A/N: "Green", in horse terms, means a horse that isn't trained, or is new to riding, jumping, etc.). Besides competing, Ashwood trains horses and sells them. Crystal used to do it, but one threw her and she hurt her knee. She hasn't ridden since. Apparently, she had to get surgery and get a fake knee to replace the broken one. Ever since then, Hermes has trained the horses for her in exchange for a free lease on whatever competition horse he was riding. But, since he's not here, one of us will get the honor of nearly dying on a horse that doesn't know what a saddle is.

Outside, Crystal holds the lead rope of a tall, handsome piebald stallion. He tosses his head wildly, his ears flattened against his head, half-rearing nervously. His eyes dart wildly about, his nostrils flared and breathing hard.

"This is Jigsaw," She announces. "He's three years old. He just came in today, so he's a bit nervous. I need one of you to break him in before we sell him. So, who wants to do it?" We all take a nervous step back as Jigsaw paws the ground, snorting. "Well, somebody has to," Crystal says. No one speaks. Jigsaw rears up, nearly pulling the reins out of Crystal's hands. She jerks them roughly, bringing him back to the ground. "Apollo," She says, "get up here." I take another step back.

"No way, Crystal," I tell her, putting my hands up. "I haven't even graduated high school yet. I'm too young to die." Crystal rolls her eyes.

"You won't die," She says, pressing the monster's reins into my hands.

"I'm not ready for this," I argue.

"Yes, you are," She replies, "I wouldn't let you do it if I didn't think it was safe. Now, go on. Mount up." Sighing, I clip my helmet on and place a foot in the stirrup iron. Artemis tells me to be careful, because, as twins, if I die, she dies. I fist my hand into Jigsaw's black and white mane, and push myself into the saddle reluctantly.

I have to admit, he feels good beneath me. A handsome, muscular, sixteen hands of horse stands completely still between my legs, and for a moment I think he's waiting for me to tell him what to do. I think, You really aren't so bad, before he squeals in surprise and rears up, throwing his feet out. He lands heavily and gives a good buck, tossing me forward.

"Sit back!" Crystal orders with urgency. I press my feet forward and lean back, my hands gripping Jigsaw's mane for dear life. He spins around, throwing me sideways, and I just manage to stay on. Before I can regain my balance, he leaps upward, all four feet coming off the ground. He twists in the air, jerking me every which way, until I finally come flying out of the saddle, landing on my back in the dirt.

I get to my feet quickly, never having appreciated my helmet more. Crystal grabs Jigsaw's reins and pats his sweaty neck, trying to calm the high-spirited animal.

"Should I-" I start, dreading her answer.

"No," She says, "don't get back on. It's too dangerous. I shouldn't have put you up in the first place. We need someone with a better seat, who has some experience and can stay on a bucking horse."

We all look at each other, the same thought running through our minds. That kind of seat only comes from years of experience riding wild mustangs, or riding bareback. Crystal looks thoughtful.

"If you see Hermes, ask if he can come out. Tell him I have a challenge for him."

"Please?" Hermes begs Iris, "I promise I'll be okay. I'll come back every night, and I'll be here until four, so we can do therapy then. It'll help, really!" Iris looks hesitant.

"I don't know," She mutters.

"You said yourself that I'm not meant for padded rooms and whitewashed hallways," He argues.

"That was different," She counters.

"Oh, come on, Iris! You said I should try to be more like Calliope. Well, Calliope has her poetry, and I'll have this horse. What's his name? Puzzle, or something," He says.

"Jigsaw," I correct.

"Whatever," He replies, turning back to Iris. "Can I go? Please?" She sighs.

"Alright," She relents, "but you have to be back by ten each night. And we're doing therapy at noon."

"Yes! You're the awesomest therapist ever, Iris. I promise I'll be back by ten. C'mon, let's go!" With that, he grabs me by the wrist and zips out of the room. I'm ten minutes late for practice, but Crystal sent me to get Hermes, so I have an excuse. He pulls me through Olympus and into the barn, only stopping when he runs into a pile of hay bales, sending us both sprawling to the ground.

"Thanks," I groan, plucking pieces of hay from my hair.

"You're welcome!" He replies happily, "So, where is this 'Jigsaw'? Can I start now? Where's Crystal? Am I riding him, or just lunging? Does he have his own tack, or should I use mine? What am I training him for? What can he do so far? How old-"

"Whoa!" I cut him off, "Crystal should be in her office. As for the other questions, no idea."

"Great!" There's a woosh of air as he super-speeds away, then reappears with Crystal at his side. She looks peeved at being dragged away from her work, and has some papers still in her hand, but seems relieved that he's here.

"Someone's excited," She mutters, rubbing her wrist. Hermes rattles off his list of questions to her, and she waits patiently until he's done, eyebrows raised in an unimpressed expression. "Jigsaw is in the birthing stall. I figured he might want some space on his first night. You're training him to do basic gaits and skills first, and then we'll try competition disciplines. You'll be riding him, not lunging. He has his own equipment, although I trust you won't be using the saddle. He can't do much, as of yet, and he's three years old. And yes, you can start now. Apollo, bring the team to the outdoor showjumping ring. I want you all to watch this."

Crystal leads Hermes off to ready Jigsaw, and I leave in search of the team. Due to the rain, the horses were covered in mud, so everyone is still in the barn, tacking. This makes the process a lot faster, since I don't have to run all over the grounds searching for my teammates. Hermes has Jigsaw bridled and waiting impatiently by the mounting block by the time we get out. Jigsaw prances nervously, tossing his head and snorting. Hermes pats him now and then, muttering to him in a vain attempt to calm him.

"Alright," Crystal calls, "I want you all to pay close attention. Hopefully Hermes will have better luck than Apollo. Let's get started! Hermes, up you go!" Hermes steps onto the mounting block and swings onto Jigsaw's bareback, and we watch with bated breath.

Jigsaw waits for a moment, as he'd done with me. He seems surprised at the weight on his back, and doesn't quite know what to make of it. Right from the get-go, Hermes does one of the many things I failed to do. He sits with his legs tight around Jigsaw's stomach, his reins short and his heels pressed down, anticipating the fight instead of relaxing as I'd done. With a loud, indignant squeal, Jigsaw leaps into the air, twisting wildly. He rears and bucks and takes off cantering around the ring. He skids to a stop and pivots around, but Hermes stays glued to his back. However, when Jigsaw rears and spins, I catch a glimpse of Hermes's face, and see genuine fear in his eyes. That's how I can tell Jigsaw is really bad, because Hermes is never afraid of his mount. He knows they sense when you're afraid, and it only makes them more nervous. Still, he clings to Jigsaw's stomach, holding himself on the bucking bronco. Jigsaw rears and kicks and spins and twists, to no avail. He gives Hermes the ride of his life, until, finally, he stops. He drops his head, panting, and starts walking obediently around the ring.

Hermes looks down at Jigsaw, and their eyes meet, rider to mount. Then, I know the battle is over. Neither have won. Hermes understands Jigsaw is no push-button pony that simply does whatever he wants, and Jigsaw knows Hermes isn't another rider he can leave on the ground. There's a mutual respect between them that only comes of fighting each other down to a stalemate.

And thus began the greatest partnership between horse and rider Olympus had seen in a long time: Hermes, the broken boy, and the spirited young piebald named Jigsaw.

Hermes

I spend every moment I can with Jigsaw. It becomes some kind of weird therapy, more effective than sessions with Iris ever have been. Riding him takes my mind off of my horrible life. I focus on slowing him down, teaching him commands, and getting him smoothly over jumps, and I focus on nothing else. I forget the tingling in my wrist, urging my to cut my skin open again. I forget the belt marks on my back and the stab wound on my stomach. I forget the scar forming on Artemis, because of me. I forget everything, and just ride.

Jigsaw turns into one of the greatest horses Ashwood has seen. He throws himself at any fence, no matter the height, and jumps it well. He stretches out his canter and really flies when I ask him to, and comes back to a walk just as easily. Soon, our training sessions stop being training, and become pleasure riding. I take him out for hours on end, riding him all over the grounds. We jump every log, coop, fence, or wall we can find. I spend ages cantering him up hills and around fields, pushing him for as much speed as he has. Every once in a while, he really gives me everything he's got, and we tear across the grounds. I loosen my reins and hold onto his mane, whooping and cheering as we gallop at top speed. He neighs happily and bounds on, a bottomless pit of energy.

Potential buyers come to see him now and then, most looking for a handsome, well-behaved stallion to show off to their friends, or just a lawn ornament. I show him to them, and they seem pleased. He jumps well, his gaits are smooth and easily controlled, and he's even more beautiful than advertised.

Then they get on him.

He's learned not to buck and rear, but he still doesn't listen to any of their commands. He never goes when they kick, and never stops when they pull. He refuses jumps and jerks at the bit, and swerves about crazily when they try to turn. Shocked, they hop off his back and hastily hand his reins back to me.

"He's got some fire in his belly, doesn't he?" They'll say, with an uneasy chuckle and a hint of disdain in their voices.

"No, no, that's not what I'm looking for," They'll say, climbing back into their trucks as they shake their heads, their wallets full and their trailers empty.

"You shouldn't be trying to sell a horse that misbehaves like that," They'll say, "the only place for that thing is the slaughterhouse."

One by one, they all leave. Jigsaw watches the cars roll out of the driveway, with no idea of what this means for his future. To him, it means more carefree rides with me, jumping four-foot fences and cantering across miles and miles of open fields. To the rest of us, it means a couple more tries before selling him to another barn, where they'll attempt to sell him. When they fail, they'll hand him off to someone else to do the same. Eventually, the next stop for him will be Jigsaw-flavored dog food.

That's another thing I try not to think about.

Aside from not being able to sell him, things with Jigsaw go well. He slowly fills up the hole that all the horrible moments in my life have drilled in my heart, and I teach him to trust humans again. Crystal says she's not sure where he came from, but something about how skittish he is makes me think he and I have a lot more in common than he knows. Being so jumpy around humans isn't a natural behavior, it's a taught behavior. I know that firsthand. Still, he's gotten over his fear and has really turned around.

I'm tacking him up one day, planning to take him out to the new cross country course and see what he makes of it, when Crystal appears outside the stall.

"I need a favor," She says.

"No can do," I reply, "I'm taking Jigsaw out to the new course."

"Oh, no you're not. You and Apollo are helping me with the advanced juniors today," She tells me firmly.

"Come on, Crystal," I groan, "the juniors are so annoying!"

"You were a junior once."

"That's different. I was delightful."

"Debatable. Now, I've laid out a scavenger hunt for them in the forest. It's strategically placed so they'll have to hit some jumps and use some of the techniques they've learned this year. I'm splitting the class in two. Apollo will lead the red team, and you'll lead the blue team. You can't help them find anything, just supervise them to make sure they don't get into any trouble. Got it?" She instructs.

"Crystal, you're asking me to make sure they don't get into trouble. Getting into trouble is my specialty. I'll probably help them get into trouble, if anything," I point out.

"You're not getting out of this one. Finish tacking up and meet us by the forest." With that, she walks away, a satisfied smirk on her face. A few minutes later, Apollo leads Sunburst past our stall. He has a red bandana tied around his helmet, and hands me a blue one.

"Can you believe we have to do this?" He groans.

"No," I reply, "but we may as well make the best of it. The blue team is gonna crush you." He raises his eyebrows.

"In your dreams, loser," He shoots back.

"I know you are, but what am I?" I counter.

"Immature."

"I am rubber, you are glue, words bounce off of me and stick to you."

"I can't believe you passed third grade."

"I can't believe you passed gym class in any grade."

"We'll settle this on the battlefield."

"Battlefield?"

"Battlefield, scavenger hunt, same thing." I raise my eyebrows. "Don't judge me, you just used the 'I am rubber, you are glue' thing."

"Fair point. Okay then. See you on the 'battlefield'." He makes a face at me and leads Sunburst away. I finish buckling Jigsaw's noseband, tie the bandana around my helmet, and follow. The teams are already assembled by the time I arrive, and Crystal is briefing them on the rules. I've got Jamie, a sweet little girl who works tirelessly around the barn so she can ride for free, while Apollo is stuck with snobby little Summer, who currently struggles to make Quicksilver stand still.

Once into the forest, I take a better look at my team. Along with Jamie, I have two twin boys on matching skewbald ponies, a quiet girl on a sweet, docile chestnut, a blonde girl on a white pony who won't stop bragging to the other riders about her abilities, a smiley redheaded boy riding a cute little buckskin telling jokes to Jamie and the quiet girl, and an outgoing, white-blonde girl on a tall, bay pony. She's clearly the leader of the pack, as she rides in front of them and is clearly the most skilled. The other students call her Lily, and Jamie is particularly enamored with her. While we search for the standing martingale hidden along with the next clue, Jamie asks her question after question about what it's like to own her own horse, and does she ever think she'll be on the competition team? Lily hopes she will be. The redheaded boy calls the twins Chance and Chase when asking them to pay attention to his joke, and the bragging girl Sarah when telling her to shut up. Sarah calls him Josh, and tells him to mind his own business. Lily calls the quiet girl Stephanie, and asks if she wants to ride up in front with her and Jamie while they gossip about Summer.

"Pay attention, blue team!" I call, "We're looking for a standing martingale! Does everyone know what that is?"

"I do," Sarah says, "and, in case anyone doesn't, Snowball here is wearing one. It's brand new. Nice, isn't it?"

"Great! Sarah, give me your martingale, and we'll check that off the list!" Josh replies. Sarah rolls her eyes. Suddenly, we hear a whiny voice complaining about how boring this is. Apollo's voice comes next, telling the whiny voice's owner to keep her thoughts to herself if she doesn't have anything positive to say, and we catch a glimpse of Summer and the red team.

"That's Apollo's team," I whisper, "everyone, on the count of three, scream. We can see them, but they can't see us." The juniors smile and nod excitedly. I count to three on my fingers, and the most horrible, wailing, squeal emanates from the blue team. We hear surprised shouts and a call of, "What was that? I'm scared!" The blue team laughs, and even Stephanie cracks a shy smile.

"Very funny, Hermes!" Echoes through the trees.

"I aim to please!" I shout back.

"Hey, what's that?" Chase cries. A small piece of leather with an envelope tied to it sticks out of the grass.

"The martingale!" Lily gasps, "Nice going, Chase!" She gives him a high five, and he blushes.

"It was nothing," He mutters, grinning like an idiot, "really…" Lily takes the clue from his hand, and he stares at the spot where their fingers brushed while she tears open the envelope.

"When you groom a horse, I'm the last thing you use," She reads, "I can clean dirt and rocks out of their shoes! Finding me is easy, with one hint you'll all know where. So here's your only clue: keep your guard up, and beware."

"Bonzle's Bottom!" I shout, before slapping a hand to my mouth. "Oops," I mutter sheepishly, "I'm not supposed to help you."

"You know, I'm gonna take a wild guess," Josh says, smiling, "maybe...Bonzle's Bottom?"

"Good thinking, Josh!" I commend him. "Let's go! Everybody, pick up a canter!" I urge Jigsaw forward, the sound of hoofbeats pounding behind me.

"There's a three-foot telephone pole jump on this trail!" Lily calls, "I don't know if we can all make it!"

"This is the shortest way!" I reply, "Besides, I thought this was the advanced class."

"It's too high!" Stephanie cries, the first words she's said on the whole ride. I turn in my saddle to face the group, cantering blindly into the forest.

"You know what I do when a jump is too high?" I ask.

"What?" Chance replies.

"Stand up, grab mane, and scream," I answer. "Works pretty well." I turn in my saddle and see a stack of three telephone poles coming up fast. "Everyone ready?" I shout. Lily and Sarah say yes, while the rest shout their disagreement. "Too bad!" I call, "We're going over!" Jigsaw pushes us into the air with his powerful hind legs. He pulls up his front ones and we spring over the jump, landing neatly on the other side. Lily, Josh, and Sarah follow suit. Jamie gets jostled a bit, but does okay. Stephanie takes it perfectly, although she looks terrified. Chase and Chance are practically neck and neck as they ride their stocky skewbalds up to the jump. The two ponies leap into the air, and their riders latch onto their manes, screaming like their lives depend on it. "Jeez, guys," I tell them, when they land, "I didn't mean actually scream." The two boys giggle sheepishly.

"You told us too!" Chase points out.

"I lie sometimes," I reply, "c'mon, let's go." The ponies pick up a trot behind me, and we head into Bonzle's Bottom. Just as we enter, a pack of eight or so kids on ponies comes into view on the other side. They all have red bandanas tied around their helmets.

"It's the enemy!" Josh whispers dramatically. "Surrender at once and no one gets hurt!" He shouts.

"Shut up, Josh!" Sarah squeals, "You're just embarrassing us!"

"On the contrary," Josh replies, "I'm making us look tough." I survey our team. Chase and Chance, tiny twins who look about seven years old, though I know they're ten. Josh, a freckle-faced ginger whose very presence just screams "dork". Stephanie, who's hardly spoken a word and looks absolutely terrified. Jamie, a sweet but shy little girl, always dirty from barnwork. Sarah, who doesn't look half as annoying as she actually is. The only thing we really have going for us is Lily, who sits confidently astride her little bay. Yup, we're definitely not tough.

"What are you guys looking for?" A blonde girl from the red team calls. Lily reads through the clue again.

"Hoof pick," She answers, "you?"

"Same," Apollo tells us. "Tell you what. Hermes, you clear ten of these jumps in a row, without falling or refusing, and we'll let you take this one." The juniors on the red team gasp.

"What?" Summer shrieks, "That's a terrible-"

"Deal," I cut her off, tightening my grip on Jigsaw's reins, "which ten?"

"Any," He replies, "go." I urge Jigsaw into a trot, turning him towards a fairly small log he's jumped a thousand times. Clucking to him with my tongue, I bring him in straight and stand up as he leaps half-heartedly over the obstacle, probably bored at the small size. The blue teams screams, "One!", and I turn Jigsaw towards a larger log. He takes it with ease.

"Two!"

Jigsaw's getting frustrated with me, and I make a mental note to school him over lower fences. He's getting bratty, expecting me to let him decide what we jump. For now, I keep my legs tight around his bare stomach. With all this pent up energy building inside of him, anything could set him off.

I take a few more jumps, the blue team counting them for me. Six gets Jigsaw interested, as it's a bit overgrown and slightly larger than what we've been jumping, but he still feels tight and energetic beneath me. He was anticipating some action, not a calm, collected canter over low logs.

"Easy, boy," I mutter to him, as we take seven with ease.

"Three more!" Josh cheers. I pick a nice-sized log from the bunch and turn Jigsaw to face number eight. We're about two strides from it when it catches fire. Jigsaw starts, throwing his head back in surprise. He lets out a shrill whinny, but I tighten my legs around his stomach and keep him on track, muttering softly to calm him. We're jumping it. I'll stand up and hold on, and he'll leap, and the broken boy and the untamable horse will jump fire.

I actually think we're going to make it, when a snake falls out of a tree. I'm not kidding, a snake actually falls out of a tree. Right in front of us. Jigsaw skids to a stop, jostling me forward. The fire got his nerves jacked up, and the snake set him off. Before I've regained my balance, he rears into the air, tossing out his front legs. I cling to his mane desperately, hoping against hope that I can stay on. C'mon, Elpis, I think to myself, you said you'd always be there.

Then he loses his balance. He leans too far back, and we start falling back towards the ground, in the wrong direction. The world moves in slow motion, and for the first time in a long time, I'm on a horse, and I have no idea what to do. He's falling backward and I'm falling with him, and all I know is; he's going to crush me. So, I try an emergency dismount, although I'm already pretty close to the ground. I land just shy of him, and I think I'm okay.

Then he comes crashing down, and I can't breathe. I'm stuck and I'm on fire and I'm dying and I can't breathe. There is something very large on top of me, and I hear a crack. My vision is clouding over, but I register blurry forms rushing forward. The weight on top of me, crushing my ribs and blocking the air from reaching my lungs, suddenly disappears. I can breathe, but every breath tears at whatever cracked when I fell. I hear someone's frantic voice.

"Can you hear me?" I recognize that voice.

" 'Pollo..."

"Hermes, listen to my voice, okay? Where are you?"

"Bonzle's...s'mwhere..."

"Close enough. Stay with me, Hermes. How many fingers am I holding up?" I blink at the hand in front of my face, the image tripling and swimming before my eyes.

"Fifteen...maybe...four..."

"Well, you were never good at counting. What's your name?"

"Um...Beyoncé."

"Very funny. What's your name?"

"Jesus."

"Hermes!"

"Oh, yeah. That's...that's it...right? 'Ermes...s'mthing like that..."

"Jamie! Summer! Go get Crystal. Tell her to call the palace, and send an ambulance!" !" I hear him shift to face me again. My vision grows even blurrier, but I keep my eyes trained on my best friend. "Hermes, c'mon," He says, "stay with me, buddy. The doctors are coming. Where does it hurt?"

"Think...broke my…brain…" I slur.

"Your brain? No, that was already broken. Anything else hurt?" He asks.

"Chest," I moan, "can't…can't breathe…hurts…"

"Broken ribs," He mutters to himself.

"Tired," I groan.

"No, no, stay awake. C'mon, Hermes. Listen to my voice. Stay awake."

"Sleep…listen later…"

"This is all my fault. I'm so sorry, that was so stupid of me. I shouldn't have set that jump on fire-"

"No," I cut him off weakly, blackness starting to invade my vision, " 'Pollo…wasn't the fire…snake…fire didn't…scare 'im…" That's when it hits me. Jigsaw. I try to sit up, but a burning pain in my chest pushes me down, my vision spinning and tilting dangerously.

"Easy there," Apollo says, pushing me back down gently, "what's wrong?"

"Jigsaw," I mutter, "gotta...gotta make sure…he's okay…"

"Crystal will take care of Jigsaw. Let's just take care of you, first," He replies. I shake my head weakly, the blackness ebbing at the edges of my vision growing thicker.

"No...Crystal said he's my….responsibility…or s'mthing…big word…responsibility? Responsibilitation, maybe…no...don't know."

"Hermes, what are you talking about?"

"Gotta…take care of 'im..."

"Don't worry about him. Crystal'll make sure he's fine." I start to struggle weakly, my eyes racing across the scenery. All I can think is, Jigsaw…Jigsaw…, and I can't find him. Where is he? I need to make sure he's okay. It's my job. He's my responsibilitation. "Hermes!" I hear Apollo's voice, and I feel hands holding me in place. "Just calm down, okay? Jigsaw'll be just fine. Please, you need to stay still."

"Jigsaw…where is he?"

"Hermes, please, you've got to listen to me. Relax, okay? Calm down. Shhh, you're okay. Jigsaw's fine. You're both gonna be fine, just relax. That's it. Shhh, he'll be okay." Slowly, I stop thrashing. I listen to his voice, clinging desperately to consciousness. The blackness grows, threatening to take over all my vision. I feel so tired, and Apollo's words are starting to blend together into one unintelligible mosh of noises, so I let it.

For one moment, the world is nothing but blackness, but I'm still conscious. Panic takes over as my eyes dart around, unable to see anything. There is no sky, no ground, nothing. I'm everywhere and nowhere all at once and the blackness is pressing in on me, pushing and squeezing and I can't see, I can't breathe, I can't feel. Then the panic fades and everything starts to go with it, and I give in to unconsciousness.

Apollo

I sit on a bench outside room 251, my head in my hands, waiting for some word from the doctors. I don't think I've ever fucked up so badly in my entire life.

"Hey."

And, not having the heart to tell my sister I broke her boyfriend's ribs, I called Athena instead.

"Hey," I reply emotionlessly, not looking up at her.

"What's going on?" She asks, sitting down beside me.

"Oh, nothing," I answer nonchalantly, "I just broke my best friend's ribs because of a scavenger hunt for the junior class at Ashwood we weren't even supposed to be participating in."

"That's nice," She says, "care to elaborate?" I sigh.

"Crystal had this scavenger hunt planned for the advanced juniors, and she wanted Hermes and I to lead the two teams. So, we did, and we both ended up in Bonzle's Bottom, looking for a hoof pick, or something. I told him we'd let his team take this one if he cleared ten jumps in a row, which was a terrible idea, considering I've seen him clear everything in Bonzle's Bottom, but I had an equally terrible plan. And it kind of worked," I explain. She raises her eyebrows, prompting me to continue. "I set one of the jumps on fire right before he jumped it. Jigsaw spooked, reared up, fell backwards, and landed on top of Hermes." Her eyes widen.

"Wow," She commends me, "good job." I push my head further into my hands, still not looking up at her.

"This is the worst thing I've ever done," I groan.

"This might be the only bad thing you've ever done, Apollo. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I broke his ribs!"

"Sucks for him. He'll get over it. He wakes up, you apologize, he makes some lame joke, and you two go back to skipping happily through the sparkly rainbow fields of homosexuality."

"Um..."

"Listen, I'm not saying breaking his ribs is okay. It's not. But it's not the end of the world, either. You screwed up. Everyone does. Honestly, I'm a bit relieved. I was starting to think you were perfect." I look up at her, smiling slightly.

"You thought I was perfect?" She reaches up and brushes a clump of hair out of my eyes.

"I still do." My smile grows wider. Half of my brain is screaming, What are you doing? You just broke your best friend's ribs! You shouldn't be smiling! But the other half drowns it out, singing, She thinks I'm perfect! She thinks I'm perfect!

"Hey, do you maybe wanna, um, hang out later?" I ask lamely.

"That's informative," She says, "but sure. What do you wanna do?"

"I don't know," I reply, "when we were together, you liked making all the decisions."

"Except for that time you dragged me to that party."

"See? That's why you should decide where we go."

"Fine. Meet me in the palace gardens, tonight. Eight thirty." With that, she gets up and walks away, her hips swinging. Wow, I think to myself, who knew breaking my best friend's ribs could work out so well in the end?

Just then, a doctor opens the door. She says I can come in, if I'd like. I would, so I step inside. Dad is already in there, sitting beside the white hospital cot that might as well belong to Hermes; he's been in it so many times. Hermes is asleep, the steady beeping of the heart monitor the only indicator he's alive. Dad looks up at me as I enter, and I nod in greeting and stand beside him.

"Do you know what happened?" Dad asks.

"Yeah. I…uh, he fell," I fumble. Well, I think to myself, it's not exactly lying.

Hermes shifts on the cot, coming closer to consciousness. "Mom," He mumbles in his sleep. Dad sighs.

"That's all he's said," He tells me. "He's been asleep this whole time, but occasionally he says something. And that's always been it. 'Mom'." He sighs again. "She was a lovely person," He says, "Maia. She didn't have a lot of friends, but she was shy. I always thought that was why she didn't have friends, but that wasn't it." I raise my eyebrows, unsure of why he's talking about her but wanting to know more. "The other nymphs didn't exactly approve of her affair with me. As women, they sided with Hera on the subject of my adultery. They were very cruel to her. I guess she assumed without Hermes, they would've never found out. About the affair, I mean."

"And that's why she hit him?" I finish.

"That's why she hit him," He confirms. Hermes shifts again, arching his back, his face contorting into a pained grimace. He starts sleep talking again, but it's not his mother's name he speaks this time.

"No!" He cries, "Stop, please! I'm sorry! Please!" Dad swallows hard, grabbing Hermes by the hand. "Don't! Stop! Please!"

"What's going on?" Dad asks me.

"Night terror," I reply, "he'll be fine. It's like a panic attack; you just have to ride it out."

"I'm sorry, please don't, I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay," Dad mutters, squeezing Hermes's hand, "shhhh, it's okay." Maybe Hermes can hear him, because he stops thrashing.

"Please, please, please don't," He whimpers softly. "It hurts, please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Dad squeezes his hand again, his forehead creased with worried lines. Hermes's cries grow louder again. "Stop!" He shouts, "Please! I'm sorry, I won't do it again! Please don't, please, it hurts!" I bite my lip. This is as bad as I've seen them get.

"You might wanna wake him up," I advise, "this is getting pretty bad." Dad grasps Hermes firmly by the shoulders, and shakes. Hermes's eyes fly open, darting around the room in sheer panic. Dad reaches out to touch him, and he shies away violently.

"I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me, please, I'm sorry," He babbles. He starts hyperventilating, still muttering unintelligibly.

"Hermes," Dad says, sitting down on the cot beside him, "it's just me. You're okay. No one's going to hurt you." Hermes stares at him for a moment, blinking as if he doesn't understand, slowly rejoining reality. Without a word, Dad wraps his arms around him. Hermes yelps as they squeeze his injured ribs, then starts to cry. Full-out, pained, terrified sobbing. I've only ever seen him cry like this once, after I woke him from a night terror at training camp. Dad moves his hand in circles on Hermes's back, and I watch, unsure of what to do.

"I-I dropped a plate," Hermes stammers, "and it broke. She was really mad, and she hit me with her belt and she kicked me and she was screaming and I was screaming and-" He stops there, tears still pouring down his face. I stand still, stunned. This is the first time he's really talked about it. He's never told us what happened, just that she hit him for a while, and then he ran away when she stabbed him. I can see it more clearly now; him screaming and pleading with her, cowering on the floor while she brings the belt down upon his already bloody back. I shudder involuntarily. It's an image I never wanted to see.

I sit down on his other side, draping an arm around him. He pulls away from our father and leans into me, his tears soaking my shirt. But I don't mind. My arm is around him as he shakes and cries and mutters crazily to himself, and I can't remember when it became this way. I've known this boy since once upon a time, when things were sunshine and tree climbing and simple. Now, it seems, we've fallen into an abyss where things are storm clouds and hurting and awful.

"Hey, it's okay," I mutter to him, keeping my arm tight around him. Dad watches us, looking a bit hurt that his own son pulled away from him in my favor, but I ignore it. Dad's never been there for us. At least not like we've been there for each other. And after Jane Belmont, I don't blame Hermes for hating him. Suddenly, Hermes pulls away. He sits upright, grimacing at the pain the movement causes.

"Jigsaw," He says. "What happened? Is he okay?"

"Oh. Well, um…" I trail off, not really wanting to tell him this part. Hermes's eyes widen, knowing this can't be good.

"What happened?" He presses.

"Hermes, horses aren't designed to crash-land like that. You know that," I begin. He nods, the hope in his eyes dying. "Well, it would be almost physically impossible for him to be okay."

"How bad?" He asks. I sigh.

"Canon bone," I answer. Hermes drops his head to his chest.

"They're putting him down, aren't they?"

"Well, they're going to try to fix it," I tell him. "They'll give it their best shot, Hermes. He's in a sling and the vets are trying their best to get him up and running again. Crystal knows how much he means to you. She won't let them give up." He nods, trying to look hopeful and failing miserably. Broken canons are serious, and he knows that. We've seen several horses bite the dust from them over the years, and Jigsaw isn't a cooperative horse. The vets will have a hard time treating him. Hermes knows the effort is practically futile. I sigh. "I'm really sorry," I tell him, "this is all my fault. The fire spooked him, and-"

"No, it didn't," He cuts me off.

"What?"

"He wasn't scared of the fire. It surprised him, but he was gonna jump it. A snake fell out of a tree." He pauses, staring at the blanket. "If it was anyone's fault, it was mine. I know how to handle rearing. I should've steadied him, helped him get his balance."

"Oh, come on. Be logical. There was nothing you could've done," I tell him firmly, hopefully stopping the "I'm-a-terrible-person-I-hurt-everyone-I-can't-do-anything-right-I-hate-myself" before it starts.

"I'm sorry," Dad cuts in, "I don't really understand. What's wrong with the horse?" Hermes sighs.

"He's hurt," He replies.

"And?" Dad prompts.

"The injury he has is almost always fatal," Hermes finishes. "Horses have surprisingly thin and fragile legs to support all their weight. That's why it's so bad when they break. Even if it does heal, he'll never be able to run again, let alone be ridden."

"You never know," I cut in, "there are some miracles."

"Miracles," Hermes says, "don't come very often. That's why they're called miracles." No one knows what to say to this, and a heavy silence sets in. Dad and I look at each other, and Hermes looks at the bandages on his wrists. Eventually, a servant peaks his head in and tells Dad he has a visitor in the throne room. Dad mutters something about war efforts, and exits. I decide I should say something, and the rest of our conversation goes like this:

Me: So, how are your ribs?

Hermes: Just cracked. They'll heal in four or five weeks.

Me: That's good.

Hermes: I guess.

Me: I'm sorry.

Hermes: It's not your fault. But I wish it was, because then I could make some lame joke about how you crack me up. Get it? Crack? Because, like...crack? Get it?

Me: I get it.

Hermes: Okay.

Me: Okay.

Hermes: Okay.

Me: So, I have a date with Athena tonight.

Hermes: That's cool, I guess.

Me: Yeah. I'm meeting her in the palace gardens at eight thirty.

Hermes: Cool.

Me: This conversation is feeling very one-sided.

Hermes: Yup.

Me: I feel like you don't want me here.

Hermes: I've secretly hated you my whole life.

Me: Fuck you.

Hermes: Ditto.

Me: *awkward silence*

Hermes: I was kidding, by the way. About secretly hating you. You're not so bad, when you're not talking about books. Or math. Or science.

Me: That's good.

Hermes: Yup.

Me: This is really awkward.

Hermes: Yup.

Me: I'm running out of things to say.

Hermes: Yup.

Me: Well, then I'll just go now.

And then I left.