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Seasonal depression plagued most of the year-rounders at Camp Half-Blood. It always hit during winter, when the days grew shorter and the nights longer. For some of them, there was no home and no family to go back to. For others, home was too bad to return to.
Percy Jackson was one of the rare cases in which both were true. After failing to save his mother from the Underworld, the only legal family he had left was his stepdad, a man by the name of Gabe Ugliano.
When Luke took Percy into the woods on the last day of summer - bribed him with coke and companionship - he asked if Percy had anyone to go home to now that his mother was dead.
Percy had jumped to his feet, away from Luke, his whole body rigid with tension and his pupils constricted to pinheads. His stepdad, he’d said, but he would rather be homeless or join the military before he lived with Gabe again. He didn’t say what exactly Gabe did to him but Luke didn’t need details.
All Luke said was that they weren’t going to turn him out of Camp. If he needed a place to stay, Camp Half-Blood would keep him.
That had been in the beginning of August. Now it was December and Luke was worried about Percy. The kid lost everything in one fell swoop and what he got in exchange wasn’t the equivalent of what he lost. His entire world had been uprooted and shaken and Percy was floundering. Even before Percy went on his quest, he’d made some comments that hinted he was suicidal - making Luke wonder and worry - but now they came with alarming frequency and while Percy wasn’t actively trying to kill himself, he was doing so passively.
Normally Luke split his time equally among the year-rounders but this year he gave Percy most of his attention. It was partially because Luke was the only one Percy would respond to. It was mostly because all of this was Luke’s fault - if only he hadn’t listened to Kronos - and Luke felt guilty over ruining Percy’s life.
The campers lived in the Big House during the winter months because their cabins had no heaters. They all got their own rooms. Luke knocked on Percy’s door, didn’t wait for permission before he used his powers to unlock it.
The room was dark, lights out and curtains drawn over the window. Percy was a lump beneath the comforter. Despite being occupied, the room had a stale smell. Luke would have to convince Percy to open a window and change the sheets. But for now, he wanted to get the kid in a good mood. Chores could wait.
Luke walked to the bed and fell backwards onto it and Percy.
Percy whined.
“Rise and shine, Percy,” Luke said even though it was after dinner and the sun was setting. “I need your help.”
Percy whined again. The lump beneath Luke wiggled. “Get off, Luke. You’re heavy.”
Luke got off but snatched the comforter off the bed in the next instant.
Percy curled into himself. He wore the black pegasi on an orange background Camp Half-Blood pajama set. Orange wasn’t a good color for him; but it wasn’t a good color for most people. He narrowed his eyes at Luke to show he was annoyed but couldn’t work up to a full glare.
“Rise, rise,” Luke said dramatically, making up gestures with his hands.
Percy groaned but by now he knew that Luke would just get more annoying if he didn’t get up. So he sat up and stretched so hard that he fell over again. Once Percy was sufficiently stretched, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His shoulders hunched and his head hung. “What are we doing?”
It was sad to see the weight of grief on Percy’s shoulders. Luke was glad that he’d pulled his head out of his ass before more than one kid got hurt. Hurting demigods was never part of his plan. “You and I,” Luke pointed between them. “Are going to decorate gingerbread houses.”
The look Percy gave him was bleak. “Why can’t you do it yourself?”
“Because I am but one humble man and there are two houses and a dozen gingerbread people to go with them,” Luke said. He put his arm around Percy’s shoulders and guided him downstairs to the kitchen.
“There are other people you could ask, Luke.” Percy looked overwhelmed by the sight in the kitchen. There was icing in a dozen colors, bowls of candy, and of course the gingerbread itself. Luke had spent the past few hours baking and cutting and assembling the gingerbread houses. “Did you buy this?” Percy asked, frowning.
Luke scoffed in mock offense. “I made it, Percy. I can cook, you know.” He sat Percy in one of the island bar stools. “As for why I chose you, it’s because I like you and I trust you not to eat any until we’re done.”
Percy still looked unsure. He sat with his hands in his lap, looking like a kicked puppy.
Luke sat down beside him and picked up a bag of white frosting. He began to frost the roof of the first house.
After a moment, Percy picked up an identical bag and set to work decorating the house in front of him. His hands shook a little as he squeezed the icing from the bag. The last time he’d eaten anything was dinner last night.
Luke used peppermints to decorate the roof. He outlined the door and the window in the icing. Then he added a small candy doorknob. He spread icing on the ground and crumbled graham crackers for a pathway.
Percy was slower to decorate, more unsure of what he wanted to do. He made a fancy lattice on the roof and pressed gumdrops along the top of the roof.
Luke popped a gumdrop into his mouth. Then he used some to line his path. He took green icing and made grass on either side.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to eat any,” Percy said.
“That’s just the gingerbread. I said nothing about our building materials,” Luke replied with a wink.
It pleased Luke when Percy chose a sugary orange gummy and put it in his mouth. He sucked on it, then slowly chewed it. He went back to decorating his house, making a path of peppermints and outlining the door with the straight candy canes that he broke the curve off of.
Luke kept adding things to his house until almost all of the gingerbread was covered, just because he didn’t want to rush Percy. The longer he could engage the kid, the better.
When Percy finally finished, he was out of white icing. As much as Luke has covered the house in candy, Percy covered his in icing. He glanced at Luke as he slid the plate away and took one of the gingerbread people instead. Percy squeezed black icing onto his gingerbread man for hair. He gave the cookie two tiny candy green eyes. Then he piped on a blue shirt. Percy Jackson in cookie form.
Luke made a gingerbread likeness of himself. He didn’t include the scar on his face because he hated the reminder. It was bad enough that he could constantly feel the scar inside his cheek; he didn’t need to subject his gingerbread man to the same fate.
Percy watched Luke from the corner of his eye. He did that a lot. Luke couldn’t tell if he was shy or taking social cues or worried about upsetting Luke somehow. Then he reached for another gingerbread person and began to pipe clothing onto it.
Luke never met Sally Jackson but he knew what she looked like because Percy had returned to his apartment one last time to get a few photos of her. As far as Luke knew, he was the only one to see the photos and Percy kept them hidden the rest of the time. He recognized the gingerbread woman that Percy was making as his mother. It filled Luke with a terrible bitterness.
Percy and Luke decorated the rest of the gingerbread people randomly. Percy made a pirate. Luke made a gladiator. There was a Waldo from Where’s Waldo and a goth that Percy said was Morticia Addams. Luke made a Gomez to go with Morticia.
When they were done and all the cookies were decorated, Luke coaxed Percy into cleaning up with him. Together they got all the candy put away and the piping tips rinsed off. Luke washed down the island. “Get some milk, Percy. It’s time to enjoy the fruits of our labor.”
Percy poured two glasses of milk. He warmed them in the microwave.
They carried a plate of cookies and glasses of milk to the living room. A warm orange fire crackled and popped in the fireplace. It was the only light source in this room now that the sun was down. A centaur-sized armchair was the best seat in the house, comfortable and pulled up to the fireplace for warmth.
Luke set the milk on the side table. He flopped onto the armchair and patted the cushion.
Percy carefully sat down on the edge of the armchair, still holding the plate of gingerbread men.
Luke picked Percy up by his waist and pulled the kid into his lap so that Percy was snug against the curve of his body. He was fairly certain that Percy had lost weight but he didn’t comment on it. Instead he took a cookie off the plate and ate over Percy’s shoulder.
Percy put up a token protest. But he was a lonely kid and no one else was dishing out hugs. He relaxed against Luke and nibbled on a cookie.
Luke finished his cookie and washed it down with milk. He offered the glass to Percy. Anytime he could get the kid to eat or drink felt like a victory.
If he was worried about cooties, Percy didn’t show it. He put his hand over Luke’s and took a drink. When he was done, he let his fingers trail down Luke’s wrist before falling back into his own lap.
Luke managed to coax another cookie into Percy and ate one more himself before he sensed that Percy was done. They finished one glass of milk between the two of them. Then Luke took the plate from Percy and set it on the side table. He put his arms around Percy’s waist, settling his hands on Percy’s abdomen.
Percy put his hands over Luke’s hands. He traced the small scars that criss-crossed Luke’s skin. After a long while, Percy said, in a soft tone of voice, “Thanks, Luke.”