Chapter Text
December 21st
Everything went to Hades the moment Annabeth left.
They had just gotten back from Mt. Orthys, still feeling the guilt and hurt from Zoë and Bianca’s deaths, when they were bombarded with questions from campers young and old. Percy had explained everything through mouthfuls of pizza, pausing occasionally only to take a swig of blue Coke. Even with plentiful distraction, his mind kept wandering back to the scrapyard, to seeing Bianca sacrificing herself, to watching helplessly as Zoë died in Artemis’ arms. He had trained so hard to stop these kinds of things from happening to the people he cared about, the people he loved, but ultimately he couldn’t save anyone.
Annabeth tapped his shoulder, indicating with her hand towards the cabins. He sighed in relief and nodded. Just as Conner and Travis Stoll were finishing up their story, Percy yawned widely and stood up, excusing himself and Annabeth. It was a massive relief to get away from the crowd, the attention starting to get suffocating. They walked in silence towards Poseidon’s cabin, the air surrounding it smelling of salt water. Instead of comforting him, however, all it did was remind him of The Big Three Pact. He hated to admit it but it got lonely not having any company; a permanent stillness to the cabin as if it were made for show, not for functionality. A layer of dust coating all beds and surfaces but his. It was bearable last year with his brother Tyson keeping him company, but now it was just him again. He missed his brother’s tinkering, but mostly he just missed his presence, his aura that made the cabin feel lighter and more lived in. More like home. A sort of hollowness in Percy’s chest left him feeling emptier, like a part of him had been stolen, and he didn’t think he would get it back. That’s the one positive of being sent on life threatening quests, it gave him companions. People who wouldn’t leave, like his Dad, like his Mum, like Annabeth. Facing the cabin, the son of Poseidon felt a twinge of jealousy–sure, it was cool to be a Big Three kid, but he didn’t have anyone else to relate to, not really. When Thalia had come back, it was a brief respite from it, but now she was off with the Hunters of Artemis, and he was back to being the outlier. Even when he realised Nico was the son of Hades, Nico had run off to gods’ knows where. Of course he had searched everywhere, but with Artemis' moon high in the sky and pestering questions from other campers, he had to stop. The weight of Zoë, Bianca, and Nico all on his shoulders exhausted him, so much so that when the dark oak of his cabin’s doors stood in front of him, it took him a second to notice.
He glanced back to Annabeth, partly to say goodbye, and partly to reassure himself that she was here. She smiled and waved goodbye, Percy offering an enthusiastic yet limp wave in return. As she turned away, Percy saw her halt for a second, turning her head to stare at a bush to her side, before shrugging and continuing towards her own cabin. Slamming the door shut and sliding in the trident shaped lock, a bit cheesy but always made him chuckle, he stretched and wandered to his fountain. He half expected another Iris-message from Bianca, but the stream of cerulean water ran as steady as it always had. As soon as the water hit his face, Percy felt less on edge, like some small part of the weight on his shoulders had chipped off.
His blue converse squeaked on the polished wood floor as he walked to the bathroom, filling the previously quiet space. Twisting the knob, flowing hot water sputtered from the tap, filling the bathtub slowly and fogging up the mirror behind him. He swirled the water with his hand, ignoring the burning, and idly pushed it in waves; mimicking the sea. The water sloshed in unnatural ripples of Percy’s making, small spheres pulling out of the water only to be unceremoniously dropped back in. Though the rush of water enveloped his ears, Percy could just about make out a new sound: a click then a swing.
Pulling out Riptide, his thumb resting on the cap, he stood up fully.
“Annabeth, that you? Cause if so you really need to learn to knock”
Though he couldn’t see who it was, he could feel their presence like a punch in the gut. It was sharp, like someone had dragged a knife over his skin. It was familiar too, definitely somebody he had met before. Some part of him hoped it to be Nico, that the son of Hades had calmed down and returned, but Nico’s presence felt more natural than this. The person cleared their throat before speaking.
“I’m afraid not” The voice said, sending a chill down his spine
Its voice was hoarse, as if it had spent the last hour screaming. It was as cold as the bronze that made up his sword, though unlike Riptide, they had never been an ally. Despite that, Percy would be able to recognise that voice anywhere. Pushing open his bathroom door, Percy stepped out and glared at the son of Hermes.
“Luke, I’m surprised, I thought Thalia had killed you for sure when she kicked you off that cliff”
Luke grimaced, his spare hand idly rubbing his bruises.
Luke leaned against his bedpost nonchalantly, as if this were his own bedroom and he hadn’t just broken in. The blond was dressed like a drug dealer, a large brown coat draped over his frame, grey trousers and work boots covered in dirt and stains, and Backbiter held loosely in his right hand. Backbiter seems to glow in the lowlight, its metals contrasting each other in a way that makes Percy’s skin crawl. The way Luke held himself seemed different, his stance previously full of confidence and self-assurance now shifty and uncertain. The way he looked was different also, his blond hair was wispier and duller, his skin was paler and the large scar on his face looked fresh, as if it had been torn open.
Luke twisted Backbiter in his hand before speaking again.
“It was… unfortunate that Thalia didn’t understand us, but oh well, that’s in the past. I say it’s time to forgive and forget; I mean, Annabeth wasn’t hurt that badly, was she” Luke said, smirking a smile that shouldn’t have fit on his face
Percy’s green eyes looked like tsunamis, ready to engulf their victim whole. Anger welled up in him, from the pit of his stomach to the tips of his fingers.
“What are you really here for Luke?” Percy spat
Luke chuckled, running a hand through his oddly flat hair and spinning Backbiter in his hand.
“You”
As fast as his father, Luke sprung from the other side of the cabin and closed the distance inhumanly fast, arching Backbiter upwards in one swift motion. Percy uncapped Riptide and tried to block, but faltered, not fully recovered from fighting Atlas. Luke knocked Riptide from Percy’s hand and brought the sword back down across his chest, tearing through fabric and skin. The cut was deep and bloody, making Percy let out a cry of anguish and drop to one knee, gripping his torn Camp Half-Blood shirt. White hot pain flooded his vision, saliva mixed with drool dripping from his parted lips. Percy wasn’t sure whether he screamed inside his head or out loud, the pain of torn skin and scratched ribs disorienting. The white of Percy’s ribs peaked through the red of his mangled skin, small parts splattering onto the floor underneath him. Luke flipped Backbiter in his hand and pushed the tip against Percy’s cheekbone, letting the new blood pool onto the polished wooden floor with the old, forming a small puddle of crimson. From somewhere far away, Percy could feel the shift of the tides, the pull of the ocean; he latched into that feeling, a large stream of water pulling out of the bathtub and towards Luke. The blond sidestepped and ducked, narrowly avoiding a collision with scaling hot water. The water hid the farmost wall with a loud thud.
Luke tutted, then slipped his free hand into his coat and pulled out a pair of slick black shackles, silver inscriptions etched into the metal in various swirls and patterns. He sheathed Backbiter onto his hip and roughly grabbed Percy’s wrists, causing the son of Poseidon to face plant onto the floor, blood sputtering from his nose. Luke attached the shackles despite Percy’s attempts at pulling away, shoving each of Percy’s wrists in one after the other, and let him fall to the floor. A groan of pain escaped him. He tried to feel for the familiar tugging in his gut but nothing; his powers felt submerged under water, too far away to reach, too deep to call upon.
“W-what did you–”
“As fun as it would be to have a full-on fight, we need you in proper working order” Luke stated, his crooked smile pinching upwards towards his scar
But even through the blinding pain he was feeling, Percy could tell it was forced. It reached up too high and was too wide; Luke wanted Percy to think he was confident in himself, in his actions, when he was anything but. Taking in Luke’s words, he stared up at the blond with terribly hidden confusion on his face. A million questions flooded his brain, but before he had time to sort out his tidal wave of thoughts, Luke spoke again.
“Don’t blame me for whatever happens after this. This was his idea, not mine. I tried to tell him it was risky, unreasonable even, but.. Well, it’s too late now. Hades, for once I have no clue what the plan is; it would be funny if it didn’t piss me off so much”
A soft ringing from his pocket interrupted Luke’s train of thought. He sighed and reached into one of the many pockets of his coat, pulling out a flip phone and answering it, seemingly unbothered by whatever horrific monsters may pick up on it. Luke mumbled responses into the phone whilst staring at Percy. He nodded his head twice before hanging up the phone, haphazardly dropping it on the floor. Luke half-leaned on a bedpost, vivid blue eyes still connected with sea green ones. Sighing, he rummaged around in his coat before bringing out a small vial of fluorescent purple smoke, glowing and eerie shade of gold. Luke’s blue eyes dart between Percy and the vial, seemingly deciding on something, before smashing the vial in his palm, purple smoke spilling from the shattered remains of its container. The smoke creeps across the floor, filling the cabin with violet death. Luke hastily pulled up his shirt, crudely blocking out the assault. Percy tried to cover his nose with his hands, but the purple leaks in through his hands, causing Percy to start spluttering on the gas, filling his lungs with more after every breath he takes, until fully choking. He could feel the poison scald his lungs with every intake of air. He could almost believe he were breathing in fresh ashes. The elder boy in front of him began to look blurry, black spots sprayed his vision before completely engulfing it, turning it as dark as Nyx. He feebly lifted his hand to grab at anything he could until he collapsed on the floor, still taking in shallow breaths of the poison.
Using a hairband, Luke tied his makeshift mask in front of his face and knelt down, feeling Percy’s neck for a pulse. Soft, methodical drums of blood still circuited through the son of Poseidon’s body. Thank gods, I think that might’ve been a bit much though.
Taking in a deep, filtered breath, he scooped Percy up from the floor and swung him over his shoulder, his blood staining Luke’s coat. Standing fully, Luke listened as Percy winced every time he moved. He staggered forward through the cabin’s unlocked entrance, the trident shaped lock hanging uselessly to the side.
Luke exits Poseidon’s cabin, Poseidon’s son lying limp on his back, leaving a trail of Percy’s blood in his wake.