Camp Half-Blood was unusually calm that morning, almost unsettling. The sounds of training—clanging swords, excited shouts, and the occasional screech of a satyr's pipes—were all absent, replaced with an uneasy quiet. The air felt heavy, like the camp itself was in recovery from something big. And, in truth, we all were.
Percy had left on yet another quest. I hated this feeling—the tension that wrapped around me every time he was gone, like I was holding my breath until he returned. Even after all we'd been through, I still found it hard to let him go on these missions without worrying. We weren't kids anymore. Our relationship had deepened, become more complicated, but with that came more fear. I'd been his strategist, his ally in battles, but now it was something more intimate, something that bound me to him in ways I hadn't fully understood until now.
I walked past the cabins, letting my thoughts drift between Percy and the chaos that had unfolded in the past weeks. As I rounded the corner by the Hermes cabin, I saw Mykel sitting at the edge of the woods, half-hidden beneath the shade of a tree.
He was alone, as usual, staring off into the distance. There was always something detached about him, like he was never really present with the rest of us, even when he physically was. His camp shirt was wrinkled, his jeans stained with dirt, and his dark hair had that messy, half-asleep look. Mykel's whole vibe screamed "I don't care," which, considering he was the son of Morpheus, made sense. He had this air about him, like he was floating between worlds—the realm of dreams and the waking world—and didn't truly belong to either.
For a moment, I considered walking by without saying anything. Mykel and I had never been close, and after everything that had happened with Kronos, I hadn't really known what to make of him. He was older than most of us, should've been wiser, but in the end, he had been... almost inconsequential. When the fate of the world was at stake, when Percy and I were fighting for our lives and the lives of everyone at camp, Mykel had been there, but barely. He wasn't useless—he had abilities, powers we couldn't even begin to understand—but in the heat of battle, those powers had seemed irrelevant.
I couldn't just let him sit there, though. Maybe I was still trying to understand him. Or maybe, after all this time, I realized I'd never really tried.
"Hey," I said, coming to stand over him. "What are you doing out here?"
He didn't look up immediately, just kept tossing a small pebble in the air and catching it. "Thinking," he said, his voice low and casual. "Or not thinking. Depends on the moment."
I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "Seems like you've been doing a lot of both lately."
He finally looked up at me, giving that half-smile that always seemed more like a mask than an expression. "Yeah, well, guess it's the perfect time for it. The world's not ending for a change."
I sat down beside him, leaning back against the tree. "You've been quiet since the battle," I said, not really sure why I was bringing it up. I guess I was hoping to get some insight into what was going on in his head. "Everything okay?"
Mykel shrugged. "Depends on how you define 'okay.' I'm not dead, so that's something."
"That's a pretty low bar."
He chuckled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, well, I set low expectations."
There was something in his voice, though. Something heavier than his usual sarcasm. And for a moment, I felt like I was seeing a different side of him. The version of Mykel that wasn't all aloof humor and dream-like detachment. He was frustrated. Maybe even angry.
"You did fine in the battle," I offered, though even I knew how weak that sounded.
"Did I?" he asked, his tone sharper than usual. "Because from where I was standing, I didn't do much of anything."
I frowned. "You were there. You fought. You helped—"
"I threw a few dreams around," he interrupted, finally dropping the pebble. "That's what I did. While you and Percy were out there saving the world, I was in the background, hoping maybe a nightmare or two would trip up the enemy. Not exactly heroic, is it?"
I didn't know how to respond to that. Because part of me agreed. In the battle against Kronos, Mykel hadn't been in the thick of things. He wasn't like Percy, who had been at the center of the storm, fighting with everything he had. And he wasn't like me, the one with the plan, the one always trying to think a few steps ahead. Mykel had just… existed. He hadn't made a difference, at least not in the way that counted.
But that didn't mean he wasn't important.
"It wasn't about being the hero," I said after a pause. "We all played our parts. You've got abilities none of us understand. Maybe they didn't work the way you wanted them to in that fight, but that doesn't mean they're not valuable."
Mykel let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, well, good luck stopping the next world-ending threat with a dream sequence."
I sighed, frustrated, but also feeling a weird sense of sympathy for him. He wasn't useless—far from it. But it was clear that Mykel saw himself as someone who would always be in the background, someone who could never really step up when it counted.
"That's not what I'm saying," I replied. "I'm saying that your powers are unique. There's going to come a time when we need them—when we need you. Just because Kronos wasn't that time doesn't mean it won't come."
He didn't answer right away. He just leaned his head back against the tree, staring up at the leaves above us. "I hope you're right," he said quietly, his voice losing its usual edge. "Because right now, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be doing here."
I watched him for a while, feeling the weight of his words. In many ways, Mykel was still figuring out his place in all of this, just like the rest of us. We'd been through so much, and while Percy and I had found some clarity through the chaos, Mykel seemed lost—adrift in his own thoughts, unsure of what he was supposed to be. I couldn't fix that for him. No one could. But I could remind him that he wasn't alone.
"We're all figuring that out," I said, standing up. "Just… don't disappear on us, okay?"
He smirked, though it was weaker than usual. "No promises."
I started to walk away, but then I paused, glancing back at him. "By the way, Percy said he's been having weird dreams lately. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Mykel's smirk grew a little more genuine. "What can I say? Gotta keep him on his toes."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help smiling a little. "Just don't mess with him too much. I need him in one piece."
As I walked back toward the heart of camp, I couldn't help thinking about Percy again. About how much we had been through together, and how much I cared about him. Our relationship had grown in ways I never expected, and while that scared me, it also made me feel more connected to him than ever before. But it wasn't just about the battles anymore. It was about everything—our future, our hopes, and yes, even our dreams.
And maybe, just maybe, Mykel had a place in those dreams, too. Even if he couldn't see it yet.