#jeyna

i can still recall our last summer

"But..." He struggles for the words. "Sometimes you'll say something, and it feels like I'm supposed to remember more than I do."

His steel blue eyes meet her brown ones.

"I know we spent months together. I know we went on quests. I know we trusted each other with our lives." His voice grows quieter. "I know there was a reason I could tell when something was wrong before anyone else noticed."

She feels her throat tighten. "You always could."

"I don't know how."

"You just..." She smiles sadly. "You looked."

(Fandoms included in order: PJO/HoO, Haikyuu)

PJO/HoO

-"Un Dia Perfecto" by Estelares — Perachel

-"Campanas en la Noche" by Los Tipitos — Jeyna

-"El Farolito" by Los Piojos — Valgrace, specifically imagining Leo singing this to Jason

-"Femme Fatale" by Mon Laferte — Piper Mclean

-"Como Alí" by Los Piojos — Leo Valdez' character

-"El Aguante" & "Latinoamérica" by Calle 13 — I just think Reyna would love both these songs

Haikyuu

-"Ciudad Mágica" by Tan Bionica — HinaGuchi

-"Ella" by Tan Bionica — KiyoYachi

-"El Viejo" by La Vela Puerca — Yamaguchi Tadashi

-"Loco (Tu Forma de Ser)" by Los Auténticos Decadentes — Mainly Tsukiyachi but also TsukiYachiGuchi

-"Limón y Sal" by Julieta Venegas & Ana Tijoux — Tsukishima Kei x literally anyone lol

a/n: who is ready to jeyna out with me? tagging @azhagu and @iascngrace who are forever my biggest cheerleaders. love you, appreciate you two! title comes from light years by pearl jam. fic is under the keep reading.

a/n: originally written for the ipod shuffle challenge. decided to rewrite it, and it's been sitting in my docs for the last week and a half. hope you all enjoy.

The wound is deep when Jason reaches her.

“Reyna!” he calls out, already breaking into a run before he fully registers what he is seeing.

She is being carried away on a makeshift stretcher by one of the First Legion’s Apollo kids, the boy’s face tight with focus as he tries to keep pace with the chaos of the battlefield around them. Reyna is upright but barely, one arm pressed close to her side, blood seeping through the bandages in uneven, worrying patterns.

Jason’s stomach drops.

“I’m fine,” she grunts immediately when she sees him, like she can still win an argument even while half-stabilized on a moving bed. She shifts slightly, wincing, but her expression stays locked in place like she is refusing to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

Jason reaches them quickly, falling into step beside her. “Who did this?” he asks, voice tight, eyes flicking over the damage like he can figure it out just by looking hard enough.

Reyna turns her head just enough to meet his gaze. Even now, even like this, there is a sharpness there that tells him she is fully aware of everything happening around her. “Michael Kahale,” she says.

Jason’s jaw clenches immediately. “I’m going after him.”

“Do not,” she says flatly. “He’s not worth the fight, Grace.”

The use of his last name, said like a command instead of a suggestion, makes him hesitate for half a second. Then he shakes his head anyway. “He hurt you.”

“And you have a war to fight,” Reyna snaps back, a little more force than she probably should be using given how pale she looks. She exhales through her teeth, forcing her voice steadier. “He would have gone after you instead. We cover each other’s backs. Remember?”

The words hit harder than they should.

Jason stills.

He does remember. Not as a concept, but as something lived in. Every fight, every patrol, every moment where one of them stepped in without thinking because that was just what they did. No discussion. No hesitation. Just trust.

Reyna took a knife meant for him.

That realization settles in his chest like something heavy and permanent.

“I remember,” he says quietly.

The Apollo legionnaire carrying the stretcher clears his throat, shifting his grip slightly as if reminded that time is not on their side. “I’m sorry,” the boy says, voice tight with urgency. “She’s losing more blood by the minute. I need to get her to the infirmary.”

Jason nods immediately, though his eyes do not leave Reyna. For a moment, something softer breaks through the tension in his expression, something he rarely lets show in the middle of everything else.

He leans down and presses a quick kiss to her forehead, ignoring the sweat, blood, and dust that clings there from the fight. It is brief, almost instinctive, like a promise he does not have time to fully articulate.

“Take care of her for me,” he says to the legionnaire, voice low but steady. The boy nods quickly and adjusts the stretcher again. “Yes, sir.”

Reyna exhales sharply through her nose like she is about to argue again, but she is already being carried away before she can find the strength for it. Jason watches them go until the noise of the battlefield swallows her up again, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Only when she disappears from sight does he turn back toward the chaos.

Something inside him has gone very still.

The world is still loud, still moving, still burning with war, but Jason feels locked into something narrower now. His jaw tightens as he looks across the battlefield, electricity already flickering faintly along his skin without permission.

Michael Kahale. The name repeats in his mind once, twice, then settles into something colder. And anyone else who thought this was something they could do without consequence.

Jason takes a slow breath through his nose, grounding himself in the only thing that feels clear anymore.

Reyna is alive.