before we both turn into ghosts ┊p. mclean

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The Argo II was unusually still in the early morning, the kind of silence that never lasted on a ship full of impulsive demigods. Juno stood alone at the bow, fingers curled tight around the railing, watching the sky bleed from charcoal into soft gold. Pale light spilled across the waves, shadows flickering on the surface like something just beneath was beginning to stir.

She didn't move.

Let the others sleep. Let the gods keep their chaos quiet for five more minutes. She needed this—stillness, cold air, a sky that wasn't watching her back.

The ship creaked softly, restless even in stillness.

She tried to match its rhythm. Inhale. Exhale. Don't think.

Her stomach knotted, fingers tightening against the metal railing.  Juno had always hated goodbyes.

Her siblings hadn't made it easy.

Juno had packed light—she always did—but that hadn't stopped her siblings from stuffing her bag with charms, potions, folded notes scrawled with protective sigils.

"It's just a quest," she had muttered.

They hadn't listened.

Lennox stood by the door, arms crossed too tight, jaw set. She was trying to look detached, but the sharp energy radiating off her made it clear she was barely holding it together.

Vee stared at her for a solid 10 seconds, unblinking, before surging forward and burrowing her face in Juno's neck. She clutched her like she wouldn't be coming back.

"You better come back," Felix muttered, lounging by the bunk like he couldn't be bothered. But his voice was too light, his ink-stained hands twisting the hem of his sleeve. "Or haunt us, at least. Make it interesting."

She had nodded. Adjusted the strap on her shoulder. Walked out before she had to see any of their faces twist with something too close to grief.

The air outside had been cool, the sky still painted with stars. She hadn't looked back.

Now, the horizon was splitting—night giving way to morning. The sea below shifted in shades of silver and gray. Juno flexed her fingers, trying to shake the ache from them.

She wondered if her cabin felt different without her. If the wards still hummed the same. If the air still smelled like rosemary, wax, and the sharp buzz of something arcane.

She wondered if they'd moved her bunk already. If the space she left had been swallowed up.

The thought curled cold in her chest.

She exhaled, pressing her palms flat against the railing. Let the cold bite. It helped her feel real.

The sun was rising.

The ship was waking up.

*ೃ༄

By the time she reached the showers, the Argo II had begun its descent, gliding toward the coast. Water thundered over her shoulders as she stared at the metal wall, trying to force herself into Roman mode—stoic, sharp, unreadable.

Steam wrapped around her like a veil. It didn't help.

When she emerged, the smell of smoke slammed into her.

"Leo!" Jason's voice rang down the hallway behind her, exhausted and anxious. "You said you weren't gonna fuck with the ballista again!"

Juno gave Jason a sidelong glance. "Five drachmae says he blew something up."