Chapter Text
On the way back to Camp Half-Blood, Luke Castellan began to spiral worse than he ever has before.
It all started with a simple conversation with Grover, who was undeniably pissed off about the whole “shoes with wings almost dragging him into Tartarus” ordeal.
As soon as they had gotten onto the ship and gotten Percy to the infirmary, Luke tried to bring the conversation up with the boy.
“Look, Grover…” he started, but the satyr immediately interrupted him.
“I don’t wanna hear it.” he says, an icy tone to his voice. “I don’t want to hear anything from you, actually.”
Luke feels the words like a punch to his gut. He knows that’s exactly what he deserves. No one in their right mind would forgive the person who attempted to murder them. But for some reason, Luke held on to a small sliver of hope that Grover might be different.
“I’m gonna say it anyway.” the son of Hermes keeps his voice quiet. “Because I think you deserve an explanation.”
Grover glances down to Percy’s unconscious body, and his eyes slowly trail up to Luke’s face. “Yeah, I do.” he murmurs, holding Percy’s cold hand in his. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to forgive you.”
“I didn’t ask for your forgiveness.”
“Well you might as well be!” Grover raises his voice slightly. “I don’t owe you anything.”
“I never said that.” Luke keeps his composure, surprisingly, despite how angry Grover was getting with him. “Don’t you dare put words in my f*cking mouth.”
“Fine.” snaps Grover, nostrils flaring as he stares into Luke’s nearly black eyes. “Say whatever you want, and then I’ll decide whether or not I even want to consider forgiving you for everything that you’ve done.”
Luke swallows, taking a shaky breath as he begins his apology.
“Look, I didn’t ask to be a half-blood. None of us did.” explains Luke, trying to talk about his past without completely losing it and breaking down. “I grew up being chased around and beaten because I was different. But you know this. You know how angry and reckless I was as a kid, because you were f*cking there.”
Grover sighs, looking down at Percy, whose face was twisted into a frown. It was almost like he could hear the conversation. “Neither of us could save Thalia, Luke. We’ve been over this.”
“Don't say her name.” Luke growls, his head spinning.
What would Thalia think of his decision to join Kronos after she had sacrificed herself to protect him?
After all of these years of not seeing the girl— after every attempt to bring her back— was Luke really prepared to come face to face with electric blue eyes and pale, freckled skin? Would he be able to convince Thalia that what he was doing really was for the better? Or would he ultimately fail, losing her forever?
“It’s not Thalia’s fault that I turned out this way. It’s mine.” Luke sounds guilty, because that’s exactly how he feels. He knows that he breaks everything he touches. After Thalia's death and his failed quest, Luke became angry.
He grew rabid like a dog, foaming at the mouth with the most maniacal glint in his eyes. He was angry because he was scared, but nobody else understood that.
Nobody, that is, except for Kronos.
Kronos took him in when he was vulnerable. Luke was 14 when he started hearing the Titan’s voice. He knew that it was wrong to follow something that goes directly against the gods, but the thing about Luke was he didn’t care anymore. He was a child, reckless and destined to fail from the beginning.
He explains his plan to Grover.
About defeating the gods and giving them a chance to rule over the stars, because it was time that someone else took over. He talked about how much he wanted to overthrow Olympus, yet he also discussed the possibility of transferring Kronos’s spirit over to a new host— something that doesn’t seem possible, but it is. He knows it is.
“You are f*cking crazy.” Grover looks at Luke in bewilderment after the son of Hermes finishes his speech. “But if Percy and Annabeth trust you, then so do I. Besides, I am your protector. Where you go, I go. That’s a promise.”
Luke smiles at Grover. He knows that the satyr is still upset about the mishap with the shoes, but that’s something that the two of them will have to unpack at a later date. Preferably once Percy is better.
He has much more important things to worry about right now. Like the fact that Percy Jackson almost died trying to retrieve the Fleece.
That's why Luke is sitting in the ship’s infirmary nearly three days after the incident, holding tightly onto the younger boy’s hand. The Fleece is kept in a safe space now— out of reach from Kronos— and Percy is wrapped in a regular white hospital blanket now.
“You’re still here.” rasps Percy, his golden curls dripping with sweat. There’s still a massive bruise on his forehead from where the cyclops had dented his skull, but that’s about the extent of the damage.
Luke ran his finger over the bruise, feeling Percy’s perfectly intact skull. He shivers at the thought of his little brother dying for him.
“I never left.” Is Luke’s response. “You were out for three days, and I never left.”
Percy’s brow wrinkles in confusion, and he squints up at the older boy. “Was I really out for that long?”
The son of Hermes nods, before quickly co*cking his head to one side. “It doesn’t matter. You’re alive now.”
“The Fleece…” croaks Percy, his eyes suddenly growing wide. He frantically looks around. “Where is it? Do we have it? Gods, Luke, please tell me we didn’t lose it.”
“Relax.” Luke places a sturdy hand on Percy’s chest. “We have the Fleece. It’s stored in a safe place so that I can’t get to it.”
Percy reaches a weak hand up, brushing a tear off of Luke’s cheek. “I heard you with Grover.”
Luke raises an eyebrow at the touch. “Did you?”
“I heard what he said to you.” Percy croaks, looking into Luke’s eyes. “That he didn’t want to talk to you. That you couldn’t have saved Thalia.”
“Yeah…” Luke winces. “But we talked about things. We’re fine now.”
The son of Poseidon co*cks his head to one side, almost whimpering at the slight pain in his head. “Are you?”
Hermes’ son’s weight shifts from foot to foot, his breathing starting to quicken. Can Percy really see right through him? “Why wouldn’t we be?”
“Because I know you.” Percy slowly starts to sit up, leaning on his pillows for support. “And I know how those kinds of things sit with you.”
It’s true— conversations like that tend to eat Luke alive. He hates talking about things that he’s done, and he especially hates admitting when he’s wrong. But with Grover, it felt like he had to. He had genuinely almost ended the life of his protector, and it made him hate himself to think about it.
“You know what he said…” Percy coughs. “You know that Grover didn’t mean it…”
Luke just shrugs his shoulders, fidgeting with the hilt of Backbiter. His fingers brush against the sword, and he can feel the blade slightly slice into his hand.
He doesn’t look up.
Only stares at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with his brother. He can’t. Not now. Not when everything he’s been working so hard to build is slowly starting to come together.
“Luke.” Percy drops his voice to as low of a pitch as he can manage. “Look at me.”
Immediately, Luke’s eyes snap up. The intense sound of Percy’s voice made him realize that there were greater things to worry about than himself.
“You can’t fix this, Perce.” His tone is hollow. “I broke too much.”
“Grover didn’t mean it.” Percy repeats, his eyes not leaving Luke’s. “You know that he didn’t mean it.”
“I…” Luke can’t get the words out. He chokes on a golf ball sized lump that has started to form in his throat.
Percy pushes himself up onto his knees now, standing in a way that makes the two boys see almost eye to eye. “I need you to say it,” he growls, intensity glimmering in his eyes. “Tell me that you understand, Luke.”
Luke’s breathing slows, and Percy can see the slow, forced rise and fall of his chest. “I don’t know why I bite…” he whispers, sounding incredibly defeated, if not entirely broken. “I’m not a bad dog. I’m a person.”
He says the words almost in a way that’s convincing to himself and him alone. Which is pretty much what he’s doing. He doesn’t care what Percy thinks about him right now. Honor and glory and everything like it… those things don’t matter.
“I never said that you were a bad dog.” Percy’s hand cups Luke’s cheek. A comforting expression lights up the boy’s face as he tries to calm his brother down. “And I don’t care if you are. You’re my brother, and all I ever want is for you to be safe.”
“You should care!” Luke’s voice cracks. “I’m rabid. I bite. I don’t know why I do— I just do it. I brought Kronos back. I bruise easily. I sink my teeth into anything that I can, and it hurts.”
“Luke…” Percy’s voice breaks, and he lunges forward, wrapping his arms around his older brother. He holds the boy tightly, listening to Luke’s cries as he sobs against his brother’s shoulder. “We’re so close. Tonight, Thalia should be back. You can’t give up now.”
Luke scrunches his nose. “Why would I ever want to give up? I don’t give up.”
“I know you don’t.” Percy reassures him, rubbing the boy’s back. “But I hate how down you get on yourself. All I want is for you to be happy. Is that too much to ask for?”
The son of Hermes has to laugh a little bit. “It might be.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re my brother.”
“I know.”
The two of them spend the rest of the ride back to New York cuddled up in Percy’s infirmary bed, arms wrapped around each other as they watch the sun set
outside of the window.
***
They get back to Camp Half-Blood at near midnight. Luke, Percy, Annabeth, Grover, Ethan, and now Silena sit in one of the many meeting rooms on the cruise ship, discussing their plans for the day. Silena is pissed off about the loss of Clarisse, but she surprisingly took it well. Sure, she was mad that her friend wasn’t alive anymore, but that didn’t mean that it was Luke’s fault. Forgiveness comes naturally to Silena.
“You really think that this is going to be able to bring Thalia back?” Silena asks, wrinkling her nose as she holds the Fleece.
Luke nods. “It’s the best chance we have.”
“And you’re trusting in… what, exactly?” questions the Aphrodite girl, causing Annabeth to slam her fists down on the table. For a 13 year old, she’s got a lot of rage in her tiny body.
“Me, idiot!” Annabeth snaps “I’ve studied this. I know my stuff. Don’t question someone whose mother is Athena.”
Silena throws her hands up, tossing the Fleece at Grover, who catches it angrily. “How was I supposed to know it was you?” she snaps.
“BECAUSE I'M THE VOICE OF REASON ON THIS SHIP.” Annabeth’s scream is so loud and so intense that it could’ve caused an earthquake in New York City. She gets angry whenever someone questions her authority, which is understandable. Luke is the same way.
“Both of you, calm down.” Luke says, his voice surprisingly soft despite the circ*mstances. “Percy and Annabeth, you’re going to take the Fleece to the tree. Silena and Grover, you go ahead and run to tell Chiron that I’m here.”
“That’s a stupid plan.” Ethan immediately interjects, and Luke shoots a glance at him that is so dark it makes his brown eyes appear almost black. Ethan Nakamura notices this, and he says, “What? They’ll kill you.”
Luke shakes his head. “Chiron won’t. He knows more than you think he does.”
“Why are you being cryptic all of a sudden?” Grover asks, raising an eyebrow. “This seems a little bit suspicious.”
“Listen, goat meat.” Luke snaps, getting fed up with his protector’s sh*t. “If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it by now. Alright?”
Grover doesn’t back away like he thought he would. Instead, he stands his ground and looks Luke right in the eyes. “Whatever you say.”
“Luke’s right.” Annabeth says, crossing her arms.
Silena shoots her a sour look. “Of course you’d agree with him.”
The daughter of Athena looks like she might just unsheathe her dagger and slit Silena’s throat with it. “He saved my life.” she snaps. “That’s more than you’ve ever done.”
“Annabeth, stop.” Luke clamps a hand tightly around Annabeth’s shoulder. “I love you, but I can fight for myself.”
“I know you can.” She sinks into the boy, allowing him to wrap an arm around her shoulder. Annabeth doesn’t even have to say anything more— Luke just knows. He saved her life when she was scared and on the street. Annabeth thinks that, by doing that, she owes him some sort of a favor. As if her presence and existence as his little sister wasn’t enough. She’s always fought hard to prove herself.
Athena was always rough on the kid, locking her at camp for years. The only way left to prove herself for the longest time was to go on a quest, and that’s exactly what happened to her last year. Luke remembers being so proud of his baby sister. She rose up to any challenge that the gods brought on
Annabeth wasn’t like Luke. She was cautious and strategic with her anger, while Luke was just reckless. Gnashing teeth and flickering flames.
“Let’s just all get out of here, okay?” asks Annabeth, glancing nervously around at her fellow campers and Luke. “We’ve got a lot to get done tonight.”
Percy nods his head, reaching for Annabeth’s hand. The daughter of Athena surprisingly doesn’t let go, squeezing the boy’s hand tightly. Luke notices the chemistry that the two of them have nearly immediately. He’s always been kind of aware of it, but it’s becoming a lot more prominent as the two of them get to know each other.
The group leaves Ethan Nakamura in charge of the ship, which wasn’t a sentence that Luke would ever say. He watches with wary eyes as Percy and Annabeth head towards Thalia’s tree with the Fleece. Silena and Grover separate from the group to go and inform Chiron of the arrival of Kronos.
Within minutes, Chiron is galloping down the slope near the tree, heading towards Luke Castellan.
“You were never supposed to come back here.” Chiron says, nostrils flaring as he looks at Luke with disapproval. “So why are you here?”
“We have the Fleece.” Luke’s eyes stay surprisingly brown for the entirety of the conversation. “Percy and Annabeth took it to Thalia’s tree.”
“And Clarisse?” Chiron asks, and Luke’s face turns a sickly shade of green. He knew that Chiron was going to ask about the daughter of Ares, and he also understood that Chiron probably already knew what happened to her.
“I think you know.” Luke whispers softly, looking down at the ground.
Chiron reaches out a hand to touch Luke’s arm, and he doesn’t pull back. “I know that you never intended to harm her,” he says, a gentle expression in his eyes now. “You’re a good kid, Luke Castellan. I’ve always known that about you. But you know that there are other ways for you to get what you want.”
Luke bows his head. “I know…” he rasps. “I didn’t know any other way out, and now I’m trapped.”
“It’s the consequences of our actions that will be our doom.” Chiron observes, clicking his tongue. “You do understand what must be done in order to retrieve the spirit of Kronos and give it to a new host,”
“A child of Hades has to do it.” Luke answers the question.
Chiron shakes his head. “There needs to be three. A child of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades must work together. I assumed this is why you were going after the Golden Fleece. However, no one has ever survived the process.”
“I’ll be the first.” the son of Hermes answers a little bit too quickly. “I mean, I have to.”
“There is another Prophecy.” Chiron tells the boy, earning a quizzical look from Luke. “You’ll have to visit the Oracle to receive it, but it did say that a son of Hermes would be the one to break the curse.”
“You’ll let me return to camp?” Luke asks, co*cking his head to one side. “That is, to get the Prophecy.”
Chiron nods. “That would be correct.”
There’s so much information running through Luke’s mind right now. There has to be three children of the Forbidden group, and it has to be one from each of the Big Three. Luke could only imagine what the spell would contain. With some of the most powerful demigods using their magic on him, he wonders how his small body would survive that long.
“Thank you…” rasps Luke, whose head is spinning right now.
“Of course.” Chiron smiles at the son of Hermes. “You’ve always been so hard on yourself, Luke. I’d imagine this must be a lot to take in.”
Luke grins slowly. “It’s… something.”
Before he can say more, Percy and Annabeth come running down Half-Blood Hill. The son of Hermes feels his breath catching in his throat. Is this the moment he’s been dreaming of since that day six years ago?
Annabeth reaches Luke first, taking his arms in her hands. “Thalia…” she breathes, choking on the girl’s name. “Thalia.”
SONG SUGGESTION: EXIT MUSIC (FOR A FILM) — RADIOHEAD
Luke’s eyes widen, and before anyone can stop him, he’s taken off. He runs up the hill, his legs burning with the excruciating effort of sprinting up an incline.
Wind whips at his face, sending black curls cascading into his eyes as the son of Hermes runs up the hill. His breathing quickens as he thinks about Thalia Grace, with her bright blue eyes and smudged black eyeliner. With her black nails and leather jacket studded with pins from bands that Luke had never even heard of.
Luke reminisced on the times that she would play him a song by Green Day or Radiohead, because it’s the most “punk” that Luke would’ve been able to handle. He hasn’t been able to listen to any sorts of punk music in the same way since Thalia had died, but he couldn’t bring himself to wipe the playlists.
Deleting playlists and cracking mixtapes would mean that Thalia Grace was really dead, and Luke was never really able to accept that fact.
When he reaches the tree, he sees the body of a girl in all black buried beneath moss and grass. Luke crouches down next to her, wiping smudges of dirt off of her chocolate colored skin. She opens her eyes at the touch, stunning electric blue against deep toned flesh.
“I had the strangest dream…” she whispers, coughing slightly as Luke helps her into a sitting position. “I was dying…”
“I know…” Luke whispers, pulling her into a hug. He rested his chin on top of the girl’s head, and she was able to breathe in the scent of her best friend. “You’re safe now.”
“Where’s Luke?” Thalia croaks, and that’s when Luke realizes that six years have passed since the last time that he’d seen her.
He shakes his head, looking into the eyes of the girl. “Thalia, it’s me.”
