Archive of Our Own

“There he goes, that kid who showed up with the forbidden child,” one of his siblings muttered, tossing a glance at the boy leading a little girl by the hand.

As usual, everyone turned to look.

Lee did too. He couldn’t help it—he was curious about the new guy. There’d been rumors about him surviving outside the Camp since he was nine. Nine! Nobody else had ever done that.

Survived alone.

But as Lee watched him, he realized the boy was nothing like what he’d pictured in his head.

He’d imagined someone scruffy, maybe taller, with a hard, mean look—a kid who’d glare at you like he was deciding whether to eat your liver. Lee wasn’t sure why that was the image his brain came up with, only that surviving out there, without sanctuary, had to turn you into someone tough. Someone scary.

Instead, the new guy was… the prettiest boy Lee had ever seen—or, well, that’s how it seemed to his twelve-year-old mind.

The first thing Lee noticed was how different he looked—delicate, almost. He was lean, with long legs and arms, like someone who could run forever. Lee had overheard someone say the boy was claimed by Hermes, and now it made perfect sense.

The second thing Lee noticed about the boy was his eyes—bright blue, like the sky on a perfect day. The kind of sky that made you want to lie in the grass and stare for hours, getting lost in it.

The last thing was the glare. The boy’s pretty face twisted into a sharp scowl, directed straight at Lee. But the expression vanished in an instant, replaced by a soft smile when the little girl at his side turned to glance up at him.

“They say he was with the forbidden child for years before they came here,” Lee’s brother whispered, twirling a lock of hair around his finger like he was so important. His voice was quiet, but everyone leaned in anyway—like sunflowers turning toward the sun. They hung on his every word, like he was spouting some kind of ancient wisdom from their dad or something.

Which was dumb, Lee thought. His brother wasn’t any smarter than the rest of them, no matter how much he pretended to be. Still, Lee listened, because his brother always seemed to know everything that happened around here, and, well, Lee was curious.

“Survived all that time,” his brother went on, “even with the monsters chasing them because the forbidden child has a stronger scent.”

“But a monster horde came right to our doorstep,” one of the few girls in their cabin pointed out, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, but doesn’t that make it more impressive?” another sibling chimed in. “Surviving with a child of the Big Three, who just by existing makes everything worse. And then crossing the whole country with two other demigods—one of them just a kid. Literal deadweight.”

At that, they all glanced at the boy again, like they’d planned it or something. And, just like before, the boy seemed to know. He stiffened, even though his back was to them, like he could feel their stares crawling all over him.

No one could ever say a kid of Apollo was subtle. They weren’t exactly the hiding type—being children of the Sun and all.

Still, Lee thought it was so cool how the boy always seemed to know when people were watching him, even when everyone was being super obvious about it. How did he do that?

Was it, like, a street-smart thing? Lee had no idea, but it seemed awesome, and he kind of wanted to figure it out.

Lee started thinking about going over—maybe talking to the kid, asking how he did it, or if he could teach him his trick or something. Oh, and maybe the new kid could tell him about all his adventures. Lee could even show him how things worked at Camp. That’d be cool, right?

But then Lee frowned. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t even know the guy’s name. Everyone just called him stuff like the new demigod, the one with the kid, or the guy who showed up with the forbidden kid. That was it.

But a real name?

Nope. Nobody seemed to know it.

Lee frowned harder at that, barely paying attention to his siblings still whispering and gossiping. That didn’t matter. What mattered was figuring this out. Finally, he made up his mind, nodding to himself. He’d go talk to the kid. It’d be fine.

So, he broke away from the group and started heading over. As he got closer, the boy turned and looked at him over his shoulder, and wow—his eyes were blue. Like, really blue. Pretty, even. But then Lee noticed the glare. It wasn’t a nice look, but Lee still tried to smile, friendly-like. Maybe the kid was just nervous. New places could be scary, and Lee got that. He wanted to help! He was good at helping, especially healing and stuff.

But just as Lee opened his mouth and stepped closer, the boy’s glare sharpened, his scowl twisting into something almost mean. Even so, Lee noticed the little things—the way his shoulders hunched, how he shifted to stand in front of the Athena girl, like he was trying to protect her. He didn’t just look annoyed. He looked wary. Maybe even scared.

Lee didn’t feel that bad when the pretty boy walked off before he could even say a word.

He got it! He really did, but—

Almost not that bad, he admitted to himself, watching the boy’s back. His siblings were giggling behind him—laughing at him, probably—but he didn’t care. They always laughed at everything, and honestly, Lee thought they were kind of dumb sometimes. So, he just ignored them.

But, yeah, he still felt a little disappointed.

*

The infirmary, this time, was almost picturesque, if Lee had to describe it. Light streamed through the window, casting warm rays that illuminated the room. The light beige walls and blue curtains caught the glow, softening the atmosphere. Shelves full of medical supplies lined the walls, and a desk stood nearby, papers fluttering in the breeze. Lee wondered if he should close the window, but the air smelled clean, clinical, with a hint of warmth—like the snacks his mother used to make before he came here, and the honey he had grown fond of at Camp Half-Blood. It was calming, all in all, a perfect place for healing.

But the scene didn’t quite match the current situation.

Lee turned to the bed—the one with the most equipment around it, the only one truly occupied. The infirmary was otherwise empty. His brows furrowed as he approached, wiping his hands with a cloth. There, on the bed, was Luke. It had taken days for Lee to learn his name, back when Luke first arrived, and Lee had been twelve—excitable, scaring off the older boy. They hadn’t talked, even though Lee had tried. Maybe he’d made a bad impression. But now, the name felt right, rolling around on his tongue—Luke.

Lee exhaled deeply, lips pressing into a thin line as he scanned Luke again. He was still unconscious, even weeks after the quest.

A scar ran down the side of Luke’s face, from brow to jaw, a jagged line cutting through his skin. He was lucky they could save the eye, though it was still bloodshot. The poison from Ladon’s venom had complicated the healing, but Lee told himself firmly that it wasn’t impossible.

He shoved the creeping pessimism aside—the voice that whispered he wouldn’t be enough, that Luke’s soul would slip away from this life and into the Underworld.

Luke’s torso was even worse. He had come to them in pieces, his body barely holding together. Slashes crisscrossed his chest, deep and wide, like he had been speared—almost, Lee corrected, but not quite.

But Luke was alive. He won’t die, Lee reminded himself—or tried to convince himself. The fear lingered, stubborn and real. He had been scared back then, followed by a rush of relief when Chiron had appeared after hours of treatment. The centaur had kicked them out at first, taking over the harsher parts himself. He probably didn’t trust them to do the job right, and Lee understood that.

Even if it still made him feel useless.

Then, Chiron had treated Luke himself, but still, Luke didn’t wake—not then, not after days, nor weeks.

Poison, Chiron had said, his voice heavy with exhaustion, shadows under his eyes, and so, so sad.

Lee took a deep breath, pressing his hand gently against Luke’s arm. He let his gift as a child of Apollo come to the forefront, the words of an ancient chant flowing naturally from his tongue, his hand beginning to glow.

He fixed what lingering hurts he could, soothed what he couldn’t, and mostly checked that Luke was okay. Well, not really—better, though. Improvements were being made, and Luke was a head and shoulders better than he had been back then.

Then, a shift. Lee widened his eyes, leaning closer unconsciously, and then—

Hands grabbed at him, yanking at his hair. Lee winced, his mind scrambling to catch up before he was punched—harder than he expected for someone just waking up from a coma. Instinctively, Lee leaned down, hands pressing against his nose, but the assault didn’t stop.

Luke’s eyes were wide, wild, full of panic. He was thrashing, hands and legs flailing, but it was weaker than it should’ve been. Luke was usually stronger than this. Lee caught the wince of pain, the way Luke struggled to breathe, as if the simple act was a fight.

Lee furrowed his brows, dodging Luke’s wild strikes, but it was harder than he thought—Luke was fast. Still, he didn’t fight back. He didn’t want to hurt him. Lee could defend himself if he wanted to, but... he was bigger than Luke—Hermes’ kids were lean and fast, while Apollo’s were broader, built for strength and drawing bows.

But Lee was a healer.

Thinking quickly, he grabbed Luke’s wrists, trying to maneuver him toward the sofa bed where Luke had been lying. It wasn’t easy, and it took more effort than he expected, but he kept going.

“It’s okay, Luke. You’re safe,” Lee said, his voice a little shaky as he leaned back, dodging Luke’s attempt to headbutt him. He managed to get the older boy closer to the bed, even as Luke fought against him every step of the way.

Lee pushed gently, trying to get him to lie back down.

He ignored the scratching on his arms, focusing on getting Luke to rest. His hands were light on Luke’s shoulders as he gently urged him back. “You’re safe, Luke. You’re safe. Just rest.”

Then, as if in slow motion, recognition flickered in Luke’s eyes, and the assault stopped.

The older boy blinked slowly, his eyes darting side to side, still wary—Luke was always wary—but then they finally locked onto Lee’s.

Luke scowled, slapping Lee’s hands away before sitting down on the sofa bed. His face contorted in pain as the movement tugged at the scar. He lifted a hand to touch it lightly, his expression unreadable, then his fingers trailed down to his torso, feeling for the scars there. He winced slightly—the ones on his torso were worse, more sensitive. Lee knew that, he could see it.

Lee let him, but stayed close, just in case.

“How long?” Luke asked, his voice raspy from disuse, not looking at Lee.

Lee saw the older man frown, trying to clear his throat.

“A few weeks,” Lee answered, standing up and moving to the side. He grabbed a cup of water and brought it back to Luke, who only stared at it, then at Lee through narrowed blue eyes. Lee hesitated for a moment, then softly suggested, “Maybe you should drink. You must be thirsty.”

With a huff, Luke slowly complied, carefully taking the cup from Lee’s hands. He drank slowly at first, then more eagerly, as if just realizing how thirsty he was.

Lee shuffled, watching Luke, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do. He was always like this near the older boy—awkward. He was sure Luke didn’t think much of him, and honestly, Lee wouldn’t blame him.

“I won’t speak about my quest,” Luke’s voice came out of nowhere, startling Lee and snapping him out of his discomfort.

“Ah,” Lee muttered, not proud of his response. He cleared his throat and tried again, hoping to seem less awkward.

“Okay…”

Luke watched him through narrowed eyes, as if gauging his honesty. Lee wasn’t sure if Luke was surprised or if he was just seeing what he wanted to see—maybe tired, maybe sad, maybe grief, maybe anger—so many emotions flickered across his face.

Lee shifted, curling in on himself. Those blue eyes always seemed to pierce through him—so pretty, but intimidating. Then, with a sudden huff, as if reaching some conclusion, Luke shoved the now-empty cup back into Lee’s hands and ordered, “Bring me a mirror.”

Lee hesitated, but Luke shot him another glare. Without thinking, Lee stood up and walked to the corner to grab the mirror. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to show Luke how he looked now, but he didn’t want Luke to be mad at him, to think he was even more stupid than he probably already did.

He fiddled with the mirror in his hands, his thoughts racing in circles.

Then a pointed cough from Luke startled him, making the decision for him. His feet moved before his mind could catch up.

It wasn’t until the mirror was in Luke’s hands that Lee realized what he had just done. He watched, holding his breath, as Luke stared at himself. He tilted his head, studying the scar over his eye, his face blank.

“I look hideous,” Luke said, his tone flat and matter-of-fact.

“No! You’re beautiful!” Lee blurted out, his eyes going wide as soon as the words left his mouth. His face flushed with embarrassment, and it only got worse when Luke stared at him, eyes just as wide, blinking rapidly.

“Ah… I meant—” Lee floundered, a flood of words escaping his mouth that he couldn’t control. His stomach twisted with awkwardness, and his heart hammered in his chest.

Oh, gods, he had to have sounded like a total idiot.

What must Luke think of him now?

Before he could sink deeper into his mortification, Luke smiled.

The smile started slow, but it was enough to freeze Lee in place. Luke’s blue eyes lit up, and Lee felt his heart skip. Luke tilted his head, looking at him through his lashes, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. For a moment, Lee thought he was being laughed at, but then he noticed how the light hit Luke’s face, making his features sharper, his jawline more defined. His skin had this glow to it, and those lips looked so, so... inviting, that Lee had to force himself to look away.

Luke was beautiful.

Lee fell silent, his mouth dry. He just stared at Luke, warmth spreading in his chest. The awkwardness was still there, but it was mixed with something else—something lighter, giddy.

Maybe—just maybe—Luke didn’t think he was such an idiot if he was smiling at him like that.

*

Lee felt his heart hammering in his chest, and he ran a hand through his hair again, for what felt like the thousandth time. He could hear Luke humming lightly up ahead, walking with that easy confidence, while Lee trailed behind. It was his idea to invite him here, but the memory only added to his embarrassment. His voice had been shaky when he asked, so nervous that the words had come out all wrong—he had wanted to sound confident, but instead, he had sounded weak.

But… Lee glanced toward Luke. He’d accepted the invitation. He was here, so… he must have understood what this was about, what Lee was hoping for. And yet, he still came. Lee took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair again.

He repeated the words in his mind, trying to make them feel real: He accepted.

Soon, they arrived.

It was a part of the forest Lee had heard about from one of his siblings—a quiet spot, perfect for privacy. Far enough from the cabin, with no prying nymphs or satyrs nearby. The place was beautiful, in a way that made you stop and take it in. Tall trees stretched high above, their leaves letting moonlight filter through, turning the ground into a patchwork of silver. Fireflies drifted lazily, blinking in and out of sight, and wildflowers grew in small, hidden clusters, their colors barely there in the low light. Rocks were scattered around like they were part of the landscape, arranged just enough to look intentional, almost like the place wasn’t even part of the forest, but a secret garden tucked away from the rest of the world.

Privacy... Lee thought to himself, feeling his face flush. Thankfully, it was dark enough that Luke couldn’t see it.

“So…” Luke’s voice broke the silence, and Lee snapped his head toward the sound.

Luke was sitting on a rock, relaxed, his posture easy and casual. The moonlight washed over his features, casting shadows that made his jawline sharper, his cheekbones more defined. His hair seemed to glow in the dim light, and for a moment, Lee was struck speechless by how pretty Luke looked—almost unreal, like the moonlight made everything about him stand out.

The way his blue eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint, the playful curve of his lips.

Lee could’ve stared all night.

“How’d you find this place?” Luke asked, his voice pulling Lee back to the present.

“Ah,” Lee stuttered, his mind scrambling for something to say. He wasn’t good at lying, so he fumbled before finally admitting, “My brother told me about this place.”

Luke hummed as he stood, walking around the clearing, taking it all in. He glanced back at Lee, flashing that smile with the mischievous spark that made him look almost breathtaking.

“I see. Pretty place,” Luke remarked, continuing his slow walk. Then, he stopped right in front of Lee, his gaze dropping slightly before looking up at him through his lashes. He raised a finger to his lips, tapping them in mock thoughtfulness, then added, “A good hiding place.”

His smirk deepened, and his eyes glinted with something more playful. “Private.”

Lee’s mind faltered, his thoughts spinning like gears that wouldn’t catch, and he fumbled, opening and closing his mouth as words scrambled out.

Luke leaned in closer, tilting his head just so, his eyes catching the moonlight and glowing almost ethereally. “It makes one wonder—”

Lee’s heart pounded in his chest, too fast, too loud, like it wasn’t even his own. Before he could think, before his mind could catch up, he grabbed Luke’s arms and pulled him closer, leaning down. Their lips met—soft, tentative. Luke’s lips were so soft, warm against his, and for a split second, everything else disappeared.

But just as quickly as it had started, Lee pulled back, his face burning, his mind spinning. Did I just do that? His heart was racing, and he couldn’t make sense of what had happened. He looked at Luke, frozen, and in that moment, it felt like the whole world was about to crumble.

Luke’s eyes were wide, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Lee thought he saw a hint of color in Luke’s cheeks, but maybe it was just the moonlight playing tricks on him. The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, and Luke didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Lee’s chest tightened, panic clawing at him. Maybe I messed up. Maybe Luke was just waiting for him to realize how stupid he’d been.

Lee opened his mouth, about to apologize, about to laugh it off awkwardly, but before he could get a word out, Luke’s hands found the back of his neck, pulling him back down again.

This time, their lips met again, but this time, it was different. It was more firm, more certain, and their kiss deepened almost immediately. It started off gentle, a little clumsy, but it didn’t matter. Lee was lost in the feeling—the way Luke’s arms were around his neck, the hand tangled in his hair, and how his own hands seemed to find their place on Luke’s waist, pulling him closer. Then, as if something clicked, the kiss grew easier, more natural. It deepened, messy and hungry, as if neither of them could get enough. Their tongues tangled, breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, and Lee felt dizzy, but... so incredibly happy.

He couldn’t believe it, but he didn’t want to stop. It felt like a rush, like everything around them was spinning, and he was just swept along with it, lost in the moment.

They broke apart, and Luke looked so beautiful—his eyes half-lidded, a flush coloring his cheeks. Lee saw it clearly now, so close. Luke’s lips were swollen, softer than before, and Lee felt something stir deep inside him. His hands tightened instinctively around Luke’s waist.

Luke smiled again, that same mischievous grin, and a hand brushed over Lee’s cheek, sending a wave of warmth through him. Without warning, Luke kissed him again. His hand slid from Lee’s cheek, down his chest, and across his arms—each touch like fire, and Lee was hyper-aware of it. The heat, the softness, the way his fingers grazed across his skin. Luke’s hand found his, gently tugging, guiding him, and before Lee could even think, his hands slipped under Luke’s shirt, meeting warm, smooth skin.

Lee froze, his breath catching.

He locked eyes with Luke, asking a silent question. Luke’s only response was that knowing smile, and Lee’s heart skipped. He hesitated, then let his hands explore, pressing against Luke’s skin, feeling the lines and curves of his body—how firm, how soft, how real—until—

A screech.

The sound startled them both, snapping them back to reality.

“Curfew,” they said in unison.

Luke stepped back, and Lee immediately felt the absence, missing the warmth of his touch. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, but before he could fully pull back, Luke grabbed his hand again, tugging him forward.

“Let’s go back quickly,” Luke said, his voice playful. “Don’t want the harpies to get us, do you?”

And just like that, Luke was running, pulling Lee along with him. They both laughed, and Lee couldn’t help but join in, the happiness bubbling up inside him so easily, so freely. He didn’t care that their laughter would probably attract the harpies.

In that moment, it didn’t matter.

He was just so ridiculously happy.

*

The bed embraced him like a hug, comforting, even, his body sinking into it as he let the weight of it settle. Lee stared at the ceiling unblinkingly, his gaze unfocused, lost in thought.

Percy... Percy had said Luke left. That he had joined the enemy. He said Luke tried to kill him, had threatened him.

Lee’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists on the fabric of the sheets, so tight that the blood seemed to stop flowing in his fingers. His Luke wouldn’t do that. Luke liked kids.

A memory surfaced—whispered conversations under the stars, late-night talks about the future. Luke’s blue eyes meeting his as they spoke of what they’d do once they left Camp, how their lives would be—together.

Luke had always been protective of the campers. How many times had he stepped in to help, to keep them safe? He’d taken the blame for everything, even when one of the Stolls—more often than not—did something dumb, stole something they shouldn’t, or pissed off an entire cabin. Luke would step in, wearing that disarming smile, offering the calm words that made everything settle again.

His Luke was good at talking.

But these days...

Lee scowled, his face contorting more in pain and sadness than any real anger. He rolled onto his side, his gaze landing on the flower pots on the windowsill—yellow blooms from Delos, he knew. Yellow like Luke’s hair, shining the same way when the sun caught it.

He pressed his lips together, keeping his eyes fixed on them, his fingers clenching the sheets again without him noticing.

But Luke had been distant lately.

Another memory surfaced—one of their conversations, a dangerous topic. Luke had been so angry, more than usual. Luke was always wary, always scared, but this time, it felt different. Luke had seemed on edge, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting something to come after him. He started talking about his cabin—how it was always overcrowded, how difficult it had become, how tired he was. Luke spoke of losing two campers who had gone home, tired of being unclaimed, of living like demigods, only to be caught.

"Unclaimed," Lee remembered Luke whispering softly, his voice full of pain, eyes flashing like he was remembering something else—his quest. Luke had been the only one to survive. “Killed. Just children. And neither knew who their parents were…”

And then, Luke had mentioned Hermes, and it was like something inside him snapped. Fury took over. Things were said that Lee disagreed with, things that were dangerous, too dangerous to voice. Lee had told him so, but Luke’s anger only grew, his voice rising until it went completely silent. Then, there was nothing.

Distant.

His love had turned miserable, angry, and so, so sad.

Watching it happen had made Lee just as miserable.

And then… Luke had seemed to care about Percy. Lee knew it was true.

His love might be the son of the god of thieves, but Lee was the son of the god of truth.

Luke genuinely cared about Percy. Lee felt it deep within him, without a single doubt. The truth was like the sun, shining brightly, pushing away any shadow of uncertainty, burning away all the lies until everything stood clear and visible in its light.

So how?

How had it all come to this?

It couldn’t be true. Percy had to be lying, had to have gotten something wrong. He had to have gotten something wrong.

But Lee knew, deep down, the truth settled into him just as clearly as it always had. He felt the truth then, and now, he felt the lie as he tried to trick himself.

How?

He closed his eyes, his brow furrowing in pain.

How?

Kronos.

Lee’s eyes snapped open, staring at the flowers again, unable to escape the realization.

The Titan must have brainwashed Luke. Luke had always been so scared, so angry—an easy target. Lee knew that. Easy to manipulate, easy to convince. And Lee cursed himself. He should have tried harder. He should have talked more with Luke, addressed these things with him, tried to help, offered something else.

Blue eyes under the moon, shining just as brightly.

He should have reminded him of their future, talked more about their plans, made them concrete. Maybe then Luke would have let go of the anger, let himself be happy again.

But Luke always punished himself. Even when he didn’t think he was. Always making the painful choices.

Lee sat up in bed, breathing deeply, the scent of clean linens and dried sage calming him just a little. He clenched his hands together, jaw tightening.

He would bring Luke back. He had to.

They still had their future together, and Luke just needed to be reminded of it. Maybe Lee could convince him, show him the light in the shadows Kronos had planted in his mind, the darkness that twisted Luke’s thoughts, haunting him.

Lee just had to remind him.

They promised.

Together.

Always.

*

There was a horde around him, all around him—monsters and campers fighting, clashing, snarling. Death. So much death. Monsters falling, demigods falling. And Lee fought, leading his cabin from the front. He was the leader, and he had to be here.

And Luke...

Where was he?

Lee nocked his bow, releasing an arrow that took down another monster just as it lunged for a camper. Then, his eyes were back on the battlefield, scanning the chaos, his mind spinning. Luke... Luke had poisoned Thalia’s tree. His friend. The one he had always talked about so fondly, the grief in his voice so real back then that Lee had even felt jealousy for a dead pre-teen girl. He knew it was stupid, but those feelings had still been there. And Luke had always laughed, calling him silly.

Luke had weakened the barriers, exposed them all to danger. Then, he kidnapped Artemis and... held the sky. Gods, he held the sky.

Lee had wanted to check on him, even after everything. To see if Luke was okay, if the weight of it all had left any scars.

But Luke was the enemy now, and that truth hurt Lee in ways he couldn’t describe.

Still, his eyes searched, darting across the battlefield, scanning for him. Monsters, enemy demigods—some familiar faces, some unfamiliar—but no sign of Luke.

He was so desperate.

Lee just wanted to see him again. To see those pretty blue eyes looking back at him. To hear his voice. To feel the warmth of his skin against his own.

And then—

A flicker of blonde on the edge of his vision. Like a ghost, just a flash. Lee froze, his heart pounding, searching for it. His eyes darted side to side, his chest tightening with desperation.

It had been a mistake.

Pain.

Full-blown pain. The kind he had never felt before. He looked down.

His chest was red—so red, and the blood poured out as the sword was pulled from his body, the motion slow, like time itself had stretched. Lee silently acknowledged the damage. Taking the sword out was only making things worse. Too much blood, too much loss. Muscles, skin, tissue, organs—everything had been torn, and he could feel it, each breath harder than the last.

Then, a cough. A harsh, wet sound, and something warm, viscous leaked from his throat, dribbling down his chin. He felt weak, blinking, but the motion became slower, heavier, until his vision blurred entirely. Darkness crept in, and the fatigue settled like a weight on his chest.

He was so tired.

So tired.

He collapsed onto the ground, hearing the sounds of fighting around him—distant, muffled. The darkness closed in, and for a moment, everything he knew seemed gone. He couldn’t see the light anymore, only the dark. But then, there was warmth. The faint, comforting warmth of his father’s rays on his skin—just a trace, a glimmer of light he could no longer see.

He wished he could see it.

Then, suddenly, it was there.

The infirmary. The soft light filtering through the windows, making everything look so peaceful, so picturesque. Then, Luke’s face, blue eyes gleaming like the sky, his smile—

Beautiful. Luke had always been beautiful.

Lee’s eyes fluttered closed, a whisper of regret escaping him.

Forgive me. I couldn’t keep the promise.

*

Elysium. That’s where Lee ended up. It was beautiful, peaceful, serene—but there was a sadness that lingered as he watched familiar faces arrive, one after the other. Charlie, so young, with a life ahead of him, full of dreams yet to be realized. Then Silena came one day, curled inward, her expression heavy with guilt. But when she saw Charles, her face softened into a smile, and Charlie too, smiling back.

Happy.

And together.

Lee’s chest tightened as he watched them. He wondered… he always wondered, it seemed. Perhaps that was the nature of the dead—to question, to reflect on things they could no longer change.

He wouldn’t know. All he knew was that he was waiting for something.

He felt it.

And one day, it came to him.

Whispers swirled around him, voices full of uncertainty, harsh with mixed emotions. Lee could feel it in the air, and despite himself, his curiosity sparked. He moved through the crowd near the entrance.

He saw more demigods entering than usual—battle-worn, young. So young. The sight of them caused a sharp pain in Lee’s chest. But then…

Luke.

Everything else stopped. Time froze as Lee locked eyes on him.

Luke looked different—thin, weak. His once-bright blonde hair was now dull, streaked with gray, like the years had aged him more than Lee had realized. But his eyes, his blue eyes, were the same. Intense. Just so Luke. Wary. Scared. He scanned the crowd, though his body was poised as if ready to fight, his face twisted into a scowl.

The whispers grew louder around him.

They only saw what Luke chose to show. But Lee had always seen through the mask Luke wore.

He always had.

It was like being under a spell—Luke always had that effect on him. It was stupid, really, but Lee had always felt dumb around Luke, and somehow, Luke never seemed to mind.

Lee pushed through the crowd, elbowing people aside, his steps taking him closer and closer to Luke. Luke wasn’t looking at him, his shoulders slightly hunched, eyes darting from side to side, wild with uncertainty.

But then—

Their gazes locked.

Lee’s breath caught, and his eyes widened in surprise. But before he could process it, Luke’s blue eyes shifted away, his jaw clenching. Lee could see the tension there.

That won’t do.

Lee approached, his hand reaching out to take Luke’s, his fingers calloused, warm—always warm. Luke’s hands, thin and delicate, slid into his, fitting perfectly against his own, larger hands.

Luke flinched, pulling back slightly before looking at him. His eyes were wide, searching Lee’s face, as if trying to understand, to find something. Lee stayed silent, just staring, overwhelmed by everything, by the moment. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

It was like being under a spell.

Luke was here.

He was here.

“I’m sorry,” Luke whispered, barely above a breath, his voice heavy.

Lee heard it.

But it didn’t matter now. It didn’t matter because Luke was here.

Lee reached up, cupping Luke’s face with both hands, and kissed him, hard. Luke went still for a moment, and then—tentatively, almost hesitantly—he kissed him back. Lee kissed him again, deeper this time, unable to stop, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them. Again, he kissed him. Again.

And when they pulled apart, Lee pressed his forehead to Luke’s, his thumb brushing across Luke’s cheek, tenderly, reverently.

“I’ve been waiting, my love. Don’t leave me again.”

Luke’s blue eyes were wet, his grip tightening around Lee’s hands. His voice was barely a whisper.

“I won’t.”