Work Text:
Luke Castellan wished he could feel guilty as he handed the shoes to Percy, a smile on his face, a smile which betrayed the neverending anxiety he felt, which was answered by the young son of Poseidon, taking the box of shoes gratefully. He wished he could be angry when he hugged Annabeth goodbye, hoping that his little sister would come back alive. If he had his wish, none of them would die by the Solstice. Annabeth and Grover would be back at camp, the failure of the quest hanging over their shoulders, but alive.
Percy … well the fall would be long and arduous, but survivable, especially for one who possessed as much raw power as he did. And then he’d be with Luke’s lord, his grandfather, and while he wasn’t the most polite, Luke certainly considered him better than his own father.
He promised they’d be alive , Luke chanted to himself constantly, over and over again, trying his hardest to believe in his lord.
But he wondered, mostly to himself, under the darkest cover of night, where no one could ever judge his thoughts, if he was willing to sacrifice the three in order to save the world. If perhaps something went wrong, with a monster attack or with one of the gods, if he could live with himself if Annabeth or Grover were killed, if Percy was killed. He certainly didn’t love the idea of Percy dying when he was so young, but …
He shook his head, glad to be alone, even for a moment, banishing those thoughts from his mind. He took a deep breath, because they wouldn’t die. Their quest would fail, yes, but they wouldn’t die. Percy would train under the tutelage of his lord, Annabeth and Grover would survive, they’d be upset, but they’d survive.
But Luke knew how a failed quest would feel, eating them alive until they wanted to disappear from the world forever. Annabeth would be forced to deal with the shame of failure, tormented by her siblings and her mom until she would eventually run away again. Grover would be forced into a humiliating career, his searcher’s license never granted. Maybe that was for the best, however.
What would happen if he even went looking for Pan? No satyr had ever returned alive, each and every one of them failing miserably and ending up dead. He loved the satyr, who always tried his best but was often failed by the satyr council and the gods, and Luke would never want his favorite satyr to die early as a result.
They would understand, eventually, he’d make sure of it. The quest was never going to succeed. Nothing could stop Poseidon and Zeus once they got into one of their famous fights, the second World War was proof of that, but at least the Olympians would destroy themselves, and humanity would be saved. Demigods would be saved. His brothers and siblings would be saved.
He would get his revenge.
His family would no longer be hurt by the petty actions of powerful deities who started wars rather than talking about their issues.
And he would get his revenge .
Fuck, he was so small, Luke thought to himself, reflecting on their last moments together. He was alone at the border of camp, Chiron having trotted off immediately, and Luke was thankful for it. Percy Jackson was all bright eyes, haunted by a darkness he recognized in himself. Annabeth and Grover weren’t much different, too young to trek across the continent, and Luke wondered if maybe he should feel guilty about his actions forcing
He knew what would happen, afterall, in taking the bolt and the helm, how the elder three loved to destroy the world as a result of their petty squabbles.
Luke walked down Thalia’s hill, nodding in the direction of her pine tree. She’d want it destroyed as well, he hoped, he knew, as he walked down, in the direction where the Hermes cabin was participating in their archery lesson, the cabin following the assistant counselors, the Stolls.
He didn’t look for his cabin by the archery fields, deciding instead to take a moment and walk through the woods, trying to control his breathing, the tears that were threatening to emerge.
Luke didn’t want Percy to die and if everything went according to plan, he shouldn’t die, unless Zeus found him first, which was a possibility anywhere. He wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t die. Unless, of course, he did. Unless the monsters got to him, or one of the many Olympians tha
Part of Luke wanted to be upset at the prospect of a possibility of Percy dying. Ideally, it wouldn’t happen until he was well into his old age, but with the king in the sky pushing him on this quest, anything could happen.
He couldn’t allow himself to feel guilt, for it was his actions that set off a chain-reaction. But all his moves were necessary to save the world. Any sacrifices would be worth the pain in the end.
Still, Luke felt like he was being pulled around a river, the strong current pushing him in every direction, a total bundle of contradictions, drowned by the indecisions of his own wishes.
***
It’s only a little white lie. It’ll all be worth it in the end. Luke chanted those ten words to himself over and over again, trying to stop the self-deprecating thoughts from taking root in his mind. He was doing right, he knew it, for himself, his siblings, his mom , and if one person
They’d made it to Colorado, which was important progress. They might even make it to the Underworld if everything went well, and Luke wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
Hades, he felt like one of the most reasonable of the gods, not the ideal deity, but more likely than not to side against his brothers. The god, banished to the underworld, had every reason to hate his brothers, or so his lord always told him. Hopefully, he wouldn’t kill the young questers immediately, or at all, and Annabeth and Grover were able to escape. Maybe Hades would even join their cause, be reunited with his father, turn against his brothers.
Luke sighed, not noticeable through the Iris Message. It was a little white lie, necessary to remake the world in a way where demigods could live and thrive, where the Olympians would wither into nothingness. It would be worth it in the end.
So he sent them on with his signature easygoing smile, assuring the three of them that they would survive and thrive, wishing them luck in finding the entrance to the Underworld, hoping they’d kill a few monsters in his honor.
And when he disconnected the Iris Message, he sat on a rock in the woods, face pressed down into his arms as he finally understood the predicament. It was more than a little white lie. And no matter how many times he preached their survival to himself, he could no longer bring himself to believe in it.
But maybe, lies larger than life were the only way he could survive, the only way he could remake the world. It would be worth it in the end.
***
Percy followed behind Luke in the woods, sullen. The son of Hermes tried not to notice, but it was clearly apparent on the young demigod’s face, the pre-teen without any sense of hope anywhere. For someone who had just completed a nearly impossible quest, Luke had thought he’d be a lot happier. He was sure that if he’d succeeded in his quest, he’d have been a lot happier and less Hades-bent on revenge.
Luke tried not to be too excited that they succeeded, because that meant that he failed in his task, though his lord said that it could not be helped. Even the eldest and most powerful of the immortals could not tamper with the will of the fates, and if they decided that the Olympians would be defeated at a later date, so be it.
“Is everything alright, kid”? Luke said, stopping in the vague clearing, his hand still clenched tightly around the handle of the lantern. He was sure he’d regret how hard he was gripping the instrument later, bruises certain to appear on his hands if he didn’t snap the handle off before that, but at that moment, Luke was focused solely on the tasks at hand. The tasks, which all involved saving Percy from himself and those who would hurt him.
Either of their dads.
The younger demigod scrunched his nose, his face contorting in thought, his beaten up shoe kicking a rock on the dirt ground. “I’ve been thinking about the prophecy, probably too much.”
Luke nodded, “Prophecies, they’re purposefully vague.” He held the lantern between the two, the light barely illuminating the otherwise dark forest. The fireworks helped, bright colors cutting through the blackness of the night sky.
Percy shook his head, disbelieving, and continued, “Everything that the Oracle said has come true, except one big thing.” His breathing was labored, and Luke could feel his own eye twitching in stress. “Unless I didn’t understand something big…” He said the last part quietly, and Luke wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear him speak.
“Tell me,” he decided to say. “Every line, we'll go through it together.”
“You shall go west and face the god who has turned,” Percy said, reciting the prophecy.
“That’s obviously Ares.”
Percy nodded, “Right. ‘You shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned.’”
“Again, obvious. You returned the bolt to the king of the skies.”
“You shall be betrayed…” Percy trailed off, his movements halting completely, and Luke’s breathing became strained. “By one who calls you friend.” His eyes were big, bright, blue, and maybe a bit wet, staring directly at him. Luke tried his best to keep his face impassive, but it clearly didn’t work, the younger demigod clocking him immediately.
“You tried to kill me,” Percy realized, standing in the woods, posture tense. He made no move to either run away or attack, examining the problem head-on. If Luke wasn’t ridiculously stressed by the upcoming confrontation, he’d be proud. “The shoes were meant to drag me straight into Tartarus.”
Luke felt the tears well up in his eyes, unable to stop them, trying dearly to listen to the voice in his head, telling him to stand tall and proud, to banish the unnecessary emotions from his mind and focus on getting the job done.
He couldn’t hear the voice with the thoughts roaring through his head. “I didn’t think you’d give them to Grover.”
Percy’s eyes flared in anger, his face lighting up an angry red flush. “So you were okay with me dying then? Being collateral damage? As long as … what?” Luke was sure Percy’s enraged sigh could be heard even beyond the fireworks. “What was your plan dude?”
Luke shook his head. “No, you would’ve survived. He would’ve protected you, even in the pit. I swear, Percy, I never wanted half-bloods to get hurt. Ever.”
“I don’t believe you.” He backed away, shaking his head, the blond curls shaking a miniscule amount. “How could I ever believe you again?”
Luke could feel the heavy breaths from the son of Poseidon, the fear on his face. The fireworks in the background, with only the two of them missing, was not ideal for this conversation, but it kept them from being overheard.
“It’s the truth.” There was desperation in Luke’s voice, there was no way to pretend there wasn’t. He could only hope that Percy would forgive him for his actions.
The demigod took the pen out of his pocket, and Luke tensed, his fingers desperate to reach for his own weapon sheathed on his hip. The magical sword his lord had given him would no doubt work on the son of Poseidon, but he was steadfast in his thoughts, in his plan. He had no will to fight the younger demigod.
Lure Perseus over to your lord’s side. Save him from himself, from the Olympians.
“Annabeth told me, what your dad did,” Percy breathed out, still fiddling with his pen. He looked like he was debating whether or not he wanted to pull out the sword, Luke was truly hoping for the latter, that they could have a civil conversation.
He tried not to tense at the mention of … Hermes , though his fingers itched to disappear from camp, find a deadly monster, and stab it through its heart, or to stupidly run up to Olympus, throw a metaphorical gauntlet down and challenge the messenger god to a duel the old fashioned way.
That god wasn’t a warrior like Ares, who was beaten by the demigod in front of him, Luke could certainly win… Maybe later.
Luke managed to keep his cool, however, doing neither one of those, and staring at Percy. “What did she tell you?” His voice was anything but calm, and he was sure Percy could hear the tears threatening to come out, his throat laced with pain.
Percy let out a quiet laugh, “Well to never mention him to you, first of all.”
Luke snorted, surprised. “You fucked that up easily.”
The younger demigod shrugged, “You nearly got me dragged down through a hole in hell, I think you can get over yourself for a minute.”
The smile disappeared from Luke’s face, but that change didn’t seem to stop Percy from continuing. The son of Poseidon either didn’t notice the change in atmosphere or chose to ignore it. “About your failed quest, and how you blame him for it.”
“I was desperate for glory after he’d abandoned me for so long, after they all abandoned us,” he sighed. “But I guess I failed.” The lantern was on the ground now, the leaves and dirt the brightest things in the woods. “I got two of my friends killed for a quest that wasn’t even necessary, a quest that was a repeat of something fucking Heracles has already done. It was stupid and I realize that now.” He shook his head, reflecting on Jay’s bloodied face, the rivers of red streaming down his temple, of Emily’s body bent in ways he couldn’t have ever imagined, the sounds of cracking palpable even with their screams.
Of the way he had run away desperate for his own life after the slash to his own face, his vision blacking out until he could return to camp where the healers could help him. Now, he’d always have a reminder of his own failures, and the deaths he carried on his shoulders.
“Quests aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” Percy sighed, his voice cracking again, and Luke was wondering if it was due to puberty or the pain he felt. “I really only went to save my mom, but clearly I failed at that.” His breath out was long and laborious. “Seems like the Oracle was right afterall.
Luke’s brow furrowed as he listened to Percy’s words. “Grover told me that she was fine and that the lord of the Underworld agreed to release her in exchange for his helm?”
A bitter laugh broke free from Percy’s mouth, but it was followed quickly by a sniffle that was on the verge of escaping at any moment. Luke spoke before the younger one could start sobbing.
“What happened on Olympus, with your uncle and your father?”
Percy shook his head, “What didn’t happen?”
“You can tell me, I promise.”
“He gave me Medusa’s head, which is ironic, I know, and told me to kill my piece of shit step-father,” Percy shrugged. “I did that, but it didn’t help my anger.” He scoffed. “Gabe wouldn’t have taken me in without my mom anyway, but it felt powerful to get revenge, even for a moment.” Luke noticed the smallest smile begin to peek out on the half-blood’s lips. “He was so fucking scared when I pulled out her head, but…” he sighed “… Now I’m not sure, because they still killed my mom so all I really have is this shitty camp where everyone treats me like a hero even though the prophecy was right. And I can’t help but think, maybe they should suffer like I’m suffering.”
“It’s normal,” Luke said, “To be mad at the gods for their failures, their cruelty. More people than you realize feel the same way, and want some kind of justice.” Some kind of revenge . Luke sighed, thinking to himself here goes nothing. “You could find your justice, if you want.”
“What’s your plan? Dragging me down in the pit would do what, exactly?” He was frowning again, anxiety peeking out. “If you’re trying to make a pitch, it’s going poorly.”
“It would’ve kept you safe from the Big Three, who surely want to kill you, and trained you up until your sixteenth birthday, when you would make a decision that would lead to the fall of Olympus, if the prophecy is to be believed.”
“This is all based on a prophecy? After all the ways prophecies have failed me over the past month?” He laughed bitterly. “Why would I ever want that?”
“I wasn’t working alone, but at the advice of your godly grandfather.”
“My godly..?” He trailed off, brows scrunched in thought before realization flashed across his face. “When they were arguing, they mentioned patéras. You’ve been working for—”
“Names have power,” Luke warned.
The younger demigod sighed and rolled his eyes. “He ate his kids. How do you know he won’t eat us at the first opportunity?”
“We have a mutual goal in mind,” he sighed. “And no one was happier than mortals when the Titans were in charge. They called it the golden age for a reason.”
Percy scoffed, “If that was true, then why was it necessary to chop him up into a million pieces?”
“They wanted power,” Luke insisted, unable to help the scowl on his face. “But they didn’t deserve the power, and betrayed their parents to do so. Maybe it’s our turn to do the same thing, but not for power, for justice.”
“But what about,” Percy blinked, considering his words carefully, “You know who? We wouldn’t be getting the power, but giving it back to someone who our parents worked hard to overthrow. That doesn’t make sense.”
“Well we’d share it.”
Percy scrunched his face. “Obviously.” He looked one move away from an eye roll, like he didn’t believe him.
Trying a different tactic, Luke said, “It would be the end of your uncle, the one who killed your mom.” Percy froze, looking at him, desperate, and Luke evaded smiling. Finally. “And you’d be able to bring her back.”
Percy said nothing, pacing around the woods, unable to stand still, considering everything. Every part of Luke was tuned into the younger demigod, his microexpressions, his squirms, trying to see if he would finally realize the truth.
“What about Annabeth?” Percy asked after a while. Luke breathed out, relief rushing to comfort him like an old friend.
“Safe, whatever happens, I’ll make sure she’s safe.” He felt the resolve settle in his words, the younger demigod’s shoulders falling in disbelief. “She doesn’t know, yet, but she’ll come with us, I’m sure of it.” She’s my sister, I’ll protect her no matter what happens.
The younger demigod sat back on the ground, pocketing his sword, but his fingers still moved in stress, unable to keep them fixed. Luke had nearly forgotten about the soft threat of a duel, but was grateful his weapon was now out of sight and out of mind. He was leaning against a tree and fisted his hands, tears dripping down his face, unable to control them. Luke took a seat next to him, staying silent and giving him space. The air was smokey from the Fourth of July celebrations, but Luke pushed aside the discomfort, instead focusing on the pain Percy was clearly feeling.
“Hades tried to give my mom back, but Zeus got to her first,” Percy said eventually, wiping his face dry. Luke glanced at him, the young demigod’s eyes puffy and red, his face scrunched up and pained. “She’s dead, and I went on that stupid quest for no reason. It was her punishment for having me.”
Luke cursed, “Fuck, I’m—” There were no words he could say to make it better, he knew it and Percy knew it.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” he continued, ripping out plants from the ground. Luke shot a glare at the naiads who squawked indignantly, and they went running for their trees once more. He settled once he realized the two of them were alone again. “Annabeth and Grover think she’s fine, but I think Chiron knows, and Mr. D must. He’s a god after all, right?” Percy sniffed again, rubbing his eyes furiously. In the distance, Luke could hear the waves on the beach crashing harder and faster, wondering if it was Percy or his father whose mood was affecting the water near them.
“I told Annabeth to go home, because even if she hates her dad, he’s alive and he might change.” Percy shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, maybe it was wrong but I’m just so mad that she gets to have her dad who she has said multiple times doesn’t care for her, and the one person in the world who ever cared for me is gone.”
“I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this, you tried to kill me, even if you claim you didn’t,” Percy said, and the tears were back in full force, falling down the young demigod’s face without any remorse.
He swallowed, looking away from the younger demigod, watching the nature spirits run around down by the pond and ignoring the loud noises of the fireworks. He wasn’t sure if he could, but he needed to tell him the truth of what his father did. It would be the final nail in the coffin. If he could force his tongue to move, that is.
Luke focused on the elements of nature surrounding him, grounding him. The trees swaying in the light breeze, the smell of the strawberry fields ready for harvest for the next year, the feel of grainy dirt on his bare legs, the water rushing on the beach, somehow loud enough to be heard despite the explosions in the sky and the distance from the open water.
He sighed, “I’m going to tell you a story, about my mom–” Percy startled and stared at him, blue eyes curious but he was still silent–“And maybe you’ll find solace with her being at peace, in Elysium, while we’re still here, barely surviving.”
His face changed, the sadness replaced by outrage, the sea responding to his ire. “What the fuck is—”
“Hear me out, please,” Luke interrupted, “And then, if you decide you never want to see me again, I’ll understand.” He held his hands up, in surrender, pleading silently that the younger half-blood would listen, feeling the blood rush back to his face when Percy nodded once, even if it was stilted.
“Our Oracle, she’s a mummy now, but she wasn’t always. The spirit used to inhabit somebody different every few decades, the girls always under the guidance of the sun god, until she was cursed and the spirit was unable to be passed on.”
He took a deep breath, “My mom, she was always clear-sighted, she could see through the Mist, and the gods thought she might be the answer to their problems. My … Hermes let her try to take over the spirit and it failed.” He wiped his eyes, he would not cry at all . “It broke her mind. She can’t differentiate between fiction and reality. And every so often she spews a broken prophecy, maybe a line at a time, but never anything of meaning or of substance.
“My house, the childhood home I grew up in, it’s always dirty and full of mold, because she won’t stop baking or cooking for someone who can never go back to her.
“And Hermes just left her there and is enabling her instead of trying to fix anything. She hasn’t left the house in years but somehow always has fresh groceries to cook and bake while my house is completely inhabitable.”
Luke sighed, “That’s the justice of the Olympians. She isn’t able to fix their curse like she thought, and now her mind is broken beyond repair. I can never go home, and that kills me, but I can’t see her like that when I remember how she once was, even for a short period. I’ll never be able to forgive them for that, not ever.”
He took a deep breath, looking anywhere but Percy, feeling empty as he bared a part of his soul to someone he had only known for a month. Less than five people knew the story of his mother, and he didn’t think he’d ever tell anyone again, but looking at the son of Poseidon, Luke felt he deserved to know, to have some solace in the fact that Percy would never be alone in matter concerning the pain of their mothers at the hands of the Olympians.
Luke felt genuine, he didn’t want this to push him in one direction or another, even if it’s what his lord wanted, and instead wished only for a connection between the two, for empathy.
There was another lull, more silence between the two, and Luke snuck a glance at Percy, who was staring at the fireworks in the sky, at the custom made art created by cabin 9, showcasing the feats of Greek mythological heroes. He was scowling at them, and Luke couldn’t help but agree.
“Okay,” Percy finally said, and Luke startled at the sudden voice.
“Okay?”
“I get it. I’ll join your cause. For justice for my mom. Because she deserves it.”
There was a shimmer, further down, in the trees, forcing Percy and Luke to freeze in their places, the magical New York Yankees hat falling to the ground as a familiar presence stood near them.
Both demigods stopped at the arrival of Annabeth, and Luke braced himself for the anger he had been expecting, but was still hopeful that maybe with Percy she would begin to understand.
She had her knife out and ready, her big brown eyes welled up and full of tears. “And you really think that I’d ever join you, betray our parents because, what, they aren’t the perfect gods we pretend they are? You apparently don’t know me well at all.”
Luke started to say something, heart beating at a speed that had to be unhealthy, his palms shaking. He wanted to collapse on the ground, and beg her to understand, to forgive him, but the words were lodged in his throat.
Percy took the opportunity, standing up and walking over to her. She still brandished her knife, the one Luke gave to her so many years ago , at him, but made no move towards violence. “Think about what your mom did,” he said, his voice earnest and full of pain, forcibly stopping Luke’s pursuit towards his sister.
“What did your mom do?” he asked, finally getting his voice back. He was genuinely puzzled, Annabeth always a favorite of Athena, though his voice went unheard or ignored by the younger two demigods, who were searching each other’s eyes like they held the secrets to the universe.
Percy had taken the last steps to Annabeth, his pale hand slowly gripping her wrist, where she released the knife into his hand, her own hand shaking slightly. The two started whispering and Luke had to crane his body to hear their conversation.
“It won’t be any better with them,” Annabeth was whispering, surprisingly allowing Percy’s hand to remain on her wrist. Luke tried to remain calm, but the shock of their inherent closeness of the two who had only known each other for two weeks, and who had definitely hated each other not long ago was surprising.
“Of all the gods who have tried to kill me in the last few weeks, all of them were Olympians. That’s the same for you too, or did you forget about the arch?” He was quiet, their hands clasped together, fingers intertwined. “You don’t have to work for love and acceptance for her, because you can have it from us without the conditions.”
From his place a few feet away from them, Luke saw her resolve change, her eyes still full of tears and gazing into Percy’s without shying away, “Okay.”
“Okay?” Luke asked.
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “But I hope your plans for world domination are better than the ones that got you this far.”
His smile was brittle. “Don’t worry, they will be.”
***
Four years later
Luke watched on as the son of Poseidon — no as Lord Kronos — bulldozed through the streets of New York. The streets were empty except for the few remaining fighting demigods. There weren’t many of them, with Lord Kronos offering penance for those who laid down their arms, not to mention the many who had swayed years prior.
The gods were still distracted, stupidly so, with Typhon, Zeus too arrogant to see past obvious diversion. If Luke was being honest, he hadn’t thought that it’d work, but it was foolish of him to not believe in his lord. Olympus was ripe for the taking, to be toppled over and crumbled to the ground.
The city was no match for the combined powers of Percy and their lord, using a combined attack to slow time while the earth rumbled in warning, a message to all their enemies. The two souls trapped in a single body were unstoppable. And as expected, Annabeth was right beside them, a fury in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in ages. Luke was only a few feet behind them, as they knocked out the security guard, taking the elevator to the top floor.
He let a small smile crack through, the first real one in years, as he watched the throne room collapse in ruins all around them, kicking the stone of his father’s throne.
It was worth it.