Chapter Text
Luke didn’t remember falling asleep. He didn’t remember anything really. Everything was a blur of mumbled names and colors. But he would have definitely remembered falling asleep on a cold marble floor. He would have remembered leaving the fields of Asphodel. He doesn’t remember why he was in the fields and not Elysium. Aren’t all heroes supposed to go to Elysium? Wasn’t he a hero? If not, then how did he die?
Someone clearing their throat pulls him to the present. He pushed himself off the floor, his cheek was sure to be red from where it laid against it, but he ignores it. He ignores how all his joints hurt and feel like they’re on fire. He ignores how his eyes don’t focus and the way his mouth tastes like he hasn’t brushed his teeth in ten thousand years. He ignores how cold he is but still feels like he’s surrounded by fire. Instead he looks up and sees twelve thrones. Each occupied by a different Olympian all save for one that sat empty.
“Luke Castellan,” Zeus spoke, his voice booming around the throne room like a strike of thunder. He sat straight, his eyes full of hatred as he stare down at Luke. “Host of Kronos, Fallen Son of Hermes, Traitor of Olympus.”
With each title Luke flinched back, memories coming and going too fast to fully make out. His eyes turning gold. Someone telling him they can help him destroy the gods. Kissing his boyfriend under the light of the stars. Thalia, Annabeth and him making their way to camp. A child of Poseidon. Stealing the masterbolt. Getting hit in the face with…a blue hair brush? Okay, that one had to be fake or remembered wrong.
“Because of the…generosity of Percy Jackson you have been resurrected as a war prize for him.” Zeus continued, staring daggers straight into Luke’s soul as he spoke. “The only reason we’re allowing this is because of a prophecy that was spoken. You, Castellan, are a part of it no matter how much any of us want you to be.” The god sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Do not think that this will make you free, son of Hermes. You will be under strict rules, all before, during, and after the quest, if you even survive that long.”
Luke swallowed, unable to find his voice just yet. If he survived went on a loop in his head. If he died again, he probably still wouldn’t go to Elysium. He’d go right back to where he was, maybe even someplace worse for the rest of eternity. Did he even have a choice in all this? Why would Percy of all people ask for him as a war prize? And, if he were a war prize, was it for the Second Titan War? Had there been another war since he died? How long had he been dead?
As if his father could read his mind—maybe he could, maybe that was one of the conditions he would be put under—he started answering his questions. “Percy Jackson turned down Immortality, a spot to become a minor god—once again—, to bring you back.” Hermes explained. His voice was tight with an emotion Luke couldn’t place. “Dionysus will be taking you to Camp Half-blood. Once you step out of this throne room your fate will be sealed. The rules are simple, son. You are allowed to walk freely within the borders of the open areas of camp. No going into the woods alone or without one of the camp councilors, Chiron, Percy, or Dionysus. If you are outside of camp you have to be within twelve feet of Percy or anyone he explicitly gives guardianship to. Because you are a war prize for him, anything he says goes. If it is a command, you must obey. If you refuse your body will still follow, no matter what it may be. And finally, if any of these rules are broken you will get a golden band around one of your arms, squeezing or burning until removed. After a period of time the band will leave on its own or Percy can remove it. The more bands you gain, even if it’s only one at a time, the longer they will take to leave and the more they hurt until—well, let’s hope you don’t find out. Do you understand?”
Luke nodded and rasped out a small; “I understand.”
Dionysus nodded after and looked at Zeus who waved a hand at Luke. Standing, the god of wine made his way over and picked the boy off the ground. “Come on,” Dionysus said. “You just got a second chance, kid. Don’t waste it.”
Luke nodded again, unable to find his voice once more and steadily got his legs to support himself, worked to make one foot move in front of the other, get his spine to hold him up straight.
Olympus looked different from what he had remembered. There were stain glass portraits of heroes new and old, Percy and Annabeth being one of them. His old friends had three different ones they were a part of. The first was of them standing on a destroyed Olympus, looking triumphant over Luke’s own dead body. The second, they were beaten and bloodied but alive from whatever battle that had taken place. With thousands of monsters that lay behind them, Percy was posed holding up Riptide while having Annabeth’s arm thrown over his shoulder, supporting her while she used some kind of white sword to help support her other side as they stood in front of some kind of large doors. And the last had five other kids with them, all standing around what looked like Camp Half-Bloods hill. A large statue of Athena stood glowing behind them by Thaila’s tree, and a huge bronze dragon was just behind where six were standing, a glowing boy with light brown skin and curly brown hair sat on top of it.
There were statues of the gods and arched doorways that weren’t here before. Luke thought back to the first stain glass of his friends, standing here while it was destroyed. Did he do that? Who redesigned the place? He didn’t know how long he had been standing there staring at everything before Dionysus gently nudged him along to the elevator. Once he realized it and went to catch up the god just gave him a small bitter smile and continued, expecting Luke to continue to follow.
The ride down seemed to take forever. More memories flashed through Luke’s brain but these ones he couldn’t quite make out. Bits and pieces of memories he tried to put together, things he tried to understand but found he couldn’t.
“It’s an overload.” Dionysus spoke next to him as the elevator dinged. Oh. They were at the bottom.
Luke nodded and followed, his head bowed at the ground. The mortals in the building didn’t even notice they were there. Everyone else just went about their lives, not paying them a single mind. Not even realizing there was a literal god with a demigod just beside them.
Waiting on the curb was a familiar beat up black SUV. Argus sat in the driver’s seat, a pair of sunglasses sat on the bridge of his nose, successfully covering up two out of a hundred eyes. He looked at Luke when Dionysus opened the back door but said nothing. Luke couldn’t even remember if he could speak.
The god took the passenger seat and Luke took the middle seat in the second row.
“I guess I should’a asked of you needed to use the restroom.” Dionysus said after they were on the road, never once looking up from the crossword he was doing in the paper. The god sighed. “If you need to we should stop now before we get too far outta town.”
Luke cleared his throat. “I’m, uh, fine. Sir.”
Dionysus let out a loud laugh. “Sir?” He repeated before shaking his head. “I should send you guys down there more often. Maybe I’d earn the respect I deserve. Maybe that’s why that Hades kid is never a problem. Always shows me respect.”
And…that was the Mr. D Luke seemed to be remembering. The one who never called anyone by their real name. The one who played pinochle whenever given the chance. The one who acted like he didn’t care about any of them. The one who never wanted to be a part of anything they did.
The drive to camp was shorter then Luke thought it was going to be. His thoughts were still scrambling and running everywhere, voices speaking nonsense in his head, memories that didn’t fit the voices and some that did. He felt like he was going to go insane by the time they pulled up to the big house.
Standing on the porch was Percy Jackson himself and some red-headed girl. What was her name? Roslyn maybe? Reese? Something like that, he thought.
Percy offered him a small, awkward smile when he got out of the car, running down the steps to meet them. Although before he could get to Luke Dionysus pulled him aside, whispering something in his ear. But it gave Luke time to look everything over, namely the person standing in front of him.
Percy was taller than he was when he was on his sixteenth birthday. Maybe by four or five inches. His jet black hair was longer, messier then before as well. No one had told Luke how long it had been, but by the state of Olympus and the stain glass, then by what he was seeing now…Percy could easily be in his twenties by now. His skin was tan as if he spent every waking hour in the sun and he had a tattoo Luke couldn’t make out on his left forearm. Something with stripes and letters? He had lots of scars, too. Ranging from little white things to large, dark slashes. Completed with deep-ish circles under his eyes and silver streaks in his hair, he looked tired. Tired of fighting, tired of dealing with the gods bs, tired from living, even. Just tired.
He caught Luke staring and lifted a hand in a wave, nodding back at the god before walking over and holding out a scared hand to shake. The left one. Luke could see the tattoo now. A triton with the letters S.P.Q.R and two stripes underneath. S.P.Q.R. Luke had heard that before, but where?
Shakily, Luke took it. Almost embarrassed by how weak his grip was compared to Percy’s.
“Everyone else is waiting inside.” Percy said, startling Luke. Had he been spacing out again?
Luke cleared his throat as Percy pulled his hand back, waving it over at the Big House and wanting Luke to follow him. “Everyone?” he asked.
Percy looked back at him, studying him before nodding, seemingly happy with what he found. “Nico Di Angelo, you remember him, right? He’s the son of Hades.” Vaguely. Vaguely Luke remembered. “And then Will Solace, by proxy of Nico. Rachel Dare, Chiron and Mr. D. We, uh, we’ve got a lot to talk about. I think.”
Luke simply nodded, ignoring the way that the redhead (Rachel? She had to be Rachel) was watching him, almost waiting for him to strike when he walked past.
The Big House looked the same as Luke remembered. Same beat up sofas, same coffee table, and same sleeping leopard head on the wall. Except that two people occupied the sofas’. Two it took Luke a second to recognize.
Nico Di Angelo sat with a dark sword attached on his hip. He wore a black Camp-Half Blood tee shirt that had a skeleton Pegasus (since when could they get that version?) and black ripped jeans. He had dark bags under his eyes, shaggy black hair that reached his shoulders, bone pale skin that looked so close to being translucent, and three prominent scars on his left upper arm. Scratch marks, it looks like. Luke wondered if he was the cause of them. Besides all the dark clothing, there was a darker aura around him too. Maybe it was a Hades kid thing. Nico was the only one Luke had ever met, with the swear off that is. If it weren’t for that there would probably be a lot more kids of the big three running around this place then just the three he knew.
Will Solace, however, was the complete opposite. With bright blue eyes, curly blond hair that was just short of needing a cut, very light bags under the eyes (which was to be expected with the half-blood life style); it was also the fact that he was basically radiating sunshine off of him. He held hands with Nico, but it didn’t seem to combat the darkness. They did; however, seem to complement each other in a strange way. A son of Apollo and son of Hades. Who would have thought that they, out of everyone in this camp, would be friends? Percy did say Will was only here because of Nico. Did Nico drag him along? Did he not want to come without someone who specialized in long-range combat in case Luke did anything? Was he that big of a threat here?
When the two spotted him Nico just glared. Luke could remember meeting the kid only a few times, and even back then (however long ago that was) he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of those glares. It meant trouble. And Nico could probably kill him on a good day; if Luke had to fight him like this it couldn’t even be called a fight. Will, however, just gave him a small, forced smile that looked very close to a grimace.
Luke hadn’t meant to pause in the doorway and stare. But until the redhead (Rachel. Her name was Rachel) bumped his shoulder with hers, not in a get-out-of-your-head kinda way but in a warning one-wrong-move kinda way, he was quick to walk in and actually take a seat on the opposite sofa as the other two.
Rachel sat next to Nico, who was on the middle cushion. Mr. D stood by the wall, Chiron was in his wheelchair, and Percy took the seat on the far end of the sofa Luke was on.
“So,” the centaur cleared his throat, gaining everyone’s attention. “I know you all have questions. And they will get answered, but first: Luke Castellan, do you know why you’re here?”
Before he could answer Mr. D (when had he become “Mr. D” again?) scoffed, taking a drink of a diet coke that had materialized out of thin air. “As if Zeus would tell the kid in the middle of Olympus. He knows nothing. Probably doesn’t even remember his name unless someone says it.”
“You were dead.” Nico spoke up this time, ignoring Mr. D in a way only a camper with a death wish would. “Do you remember what it was like in the fields? How long you were there for?”
Luke shook his head, thinking. He didn’t remember the fields. He knew, somewhere in his brain, what it was like. How long it felt he was there for, but he couldn’t focus enough to actually pay attention to the memory.
“Do you remember what happened before you died?” The son of Hades continued.
“I don’t even know how I died.” Luke answered. He knew there was a fight, and that he was against camp (why would he be against camp? Why was he fighting his friends, his family?). But that was about it. Just blurry memories of sword against sword (no, that was wrong. He didn’t fight with a sword, did he?). Friend against friend.
But Nico Di Angelo only nodded, as if expecting that answer. Maybe he was. Maybe Hades had debriefed him on what would happen. “That’s what I thought.” He said before letting go of Will’s hand and leaning down, resting his forearms’ on his knees in front of him. “You might have flashbacks to your death, or life before. Whether or not you even remember it right now.” He tilted his head, looking at Percy. “Do you remember what Leo did to help Hazel stop hers? Or how she dealt with them while on your quest?”
Leo and Hazel. He definitely didn’t recognize those names. But by the sound of it, this “Hazel” had gone through something similar to him now. Was she brought back from the fields too? Was he not the only one?
Percy blew air threw his lips, an overly dramatic sigh as he leaned back into the sofa. “They didn’t say. I know that he caught her from falling when one started, and then it made it to where he went into it with her. Since someone she knew—Sammy I think his name was?—was related to Leo he was able to help her…get rid of them? I’m not sure. I think she told Frank, but she didn’t tell anyone else.” Percy paused, thinking. “One hasn’t happened yet, right?” he asked, looking to Luke before looking back at his friends. “Since Leo’s MIA our only bet would be Hazel. I could probably call in a favor, but it’d take a minute for her to get out here. Praetor duties and all.” Percy waved his hand around his head as if dismissing the thought.
“Well then, until one happens we shouldn’t worry over it.” Will Solace spoke up, a bitter tone to his voice as he looked Luke up and down, searching for…something. “You’d be dead for two years in August. It’s May now. In that time there was another war, this time with the giants. That’s what we’re referring to right now. You were killed—“
“Killed yourself.” Percy corrected, eyeing Will.
Will, however, ignored it and continued. “—on Olympus, marking us the winners of the war and sending Kronos back down to Tartarus. If you hadn’t had started the war to begin with, we wouldn’t have had to deal with everything we did last year.”
“The prophesy was around for hundreds of years in New Rome.” Nico told Will gently, taking his hand again and rubbing his knuckles. “It was going to happen no matter who won the Titan War.”
Will only scoffed, looking away.
Chiron cleared his throat again before speaking. “During this last war, Percy had a dream.” Luke glanced over at Percy who only gave him a tight smile as the camp director continued. “Because of this dream he asked for you as a war prize. I do believe you were told this.” When Luke nodded, he kept going. “The gods denied it, at first. It was just a dream. No need to bring back a traitor—or hero; however one would like to see you—for no reason. But last week, Miss Dare had a prophesy depicting a ‘Fallen son of Hermes’. Well, the only one that came to mind was you. Then, the rest of the verses aliened with Percy’s dream—and you know how common prophetic dreams are to you demigods; so your father made a deal with Zeus, bringing you back.” Chiron sighed, rubbing his temple. “Now, there is the issue that the prophesy wasn’t ascertained correctly when it was being told.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you before. Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s fine.”
“And I’d believe you if the oracle hadn’t been missing for a month prier, or if Apollo was back to make sure it was correct.” Chiron explained to her. “Even Ella doesn’t know it, nor can anyone in New Rome find it in their books.”
And there was this “New Rome” place again. Luke wondered what they meant by it. There was also a new name, Ella. Maybe she was an Apollo camper. It’d make since, wouldn’t it? if she knew prophesy’s, that is. Or she was the past oracle? Is that possible? Because Rachel seems to be the new one now. At least they finally got rid of that old corpse in the attic, Luke thought before Mr. D burped. Loudly. Dragging everyone’s attention to him.
“Well, I’m bored.” The god said. Throwing an empty soda can into a trash bin by his feet, she spoke again. “We can continue this tomorrow. I’ve got things to do, and so do you. Peter, show Lin to his room, will you? Nico and Will,” strange, Mr. D called them by their real name. “I’ve gotta talk to you. Riley, get back to your cave, will you? Try and work on the prophesy some more. That’s what you’re good at, right?” he didn’t wait for an answer from anyone before walking out.
Nico and Will stood to follow, Nico slapping away Percy’s fist when he tried to fist bump him. Although Luke thought that maybe he would have if Percy hadn’t had winked at the younger boy. It was teasing, Luke could tell. And it made Will smile. An inside joke, probably. Rachel left just as quickly, nearly running out of the house, Chiron wheeling himself out after her.
“Well,” Percy yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “You can’t stay in cabin Eleven. Everyone knows you’re here but we don’t want any fights braking out before you have a chance, do we?” Percy shook his head and stood, reaching out a hand to help pull Luke up.
“I thought you’d be the one to fight me, if I’m being honest.” Luke told him, taking the hand the other boy offered.
Percy laughed. “It’s gonna be Jason that we need to worry about. Piper if Annabeth tells her everything. And yeah, I thought so too. But,” Percy’s smile fell from his face, a frown taking its place as he thought. “I’m going to college with Annie in the fall; it’s a pretty amazing school in California. I’ve thought this interaction over so many times since I asked after the war. And honestly?” he shrugged his shoulders. “I’d rather start things on a good note instead of staying mad and losing someone else. In the last war…things happened. I got pretty angry and scared Annabeth. If I’m a councilor here, and mom’s having a new baby—amazing, isn’t it? I’m going to have a mortal sister—and I’m moving across the country…I can’t go around creating…hurricanes and earthquakes, blood bending as Leo called it after some show, just ‘cause I’m angry. Yeah, in a fight I’d it fine, but there’s a reason kids of the Big Three don’t tend to live long. We’re powerful. And the older we get, the stronger our powers get. We don’t know what else it could evolve to. How much stronger it could be. And I mean: I don’t really wanna find out because I’m mad over a mistake that happened two years ago. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll kill you if you try to do something like that again, but a friend showed me that people can change. So I’ll trust you—for now. Doesn’t mean I entirely forgive you for killing everyone you did, but if you can get a second chance then I won’t be the one to destroy it. Got it?”
“You’re gonna have to tell me what I did,” Luke said after a minute. “because I’m still not sure.”
Percy nodded before leading the way out of the room and up the stairs into a spare bedroom.
“I’ll tell you later. For now I hear that dying and coming back is pretty tiring so.” Percy waved a hand at made bed that looked like it hadn’t been touched in a couple years. “Sleep. We can discus everything else in the morning. I’ve gotta make some calls. I’ll see you later.”
Luke watched Percy shut the door behind him, and until the moment he never realize how much a bedroom could feel like a prison cell.
It wasn’t the decor. No. the bed was a simple wooden frame and blue bedding. A nightstand on its right and the wall on its left. There was a desk in the corner with a chair and old glass lamp.
He took a seat on the bed before falling onto his back, staring at the ceiling which had faded glow in the dark stars stuck to it. Who’s room was this before, Luke wondered. And am I the reason they’re gone?