Work Text:
i.
You would be lying if you said you weren’t confused.
Annabeth Chase had finally had a quest bestowed upon her — she was tasked with braving the maze of the Labyrinth in order to locate Daedalus. She could take anyone in camp as her questmates. Percy Jackson was the obvious choice, as they had already been on a couple adventures together.
You, really, should’ve been dead last in her list of options.
To start, you had no special powers. You were a regular camper, unclaimed for years now. Despite various training exercises and endless amounts of camp activities, you still really hadn’t found your niche. The only thing you were somewhat decent at was fighting with a sword, but that was mostly because you had been trained by the best of the best. You sparred with him relentlessly over the years until you were of equal combat skill. It was special treatment, obviously, for him to train you with such vigour and fixation. He was your boyfriend after all.
Was.
Luke Castellan had taken a liking to you when you first rolled up to Camp Half-Blood; you reached the camp by a miracle, almost becoming monster food on your way in. You were a tired, bloody, sweaty 13 year old in dire need of training and a nap. He told you once, years later, that when he had first laid eyes on you, he thought of you as the most beautiful warrior he’d ever seen.
With his little crush in tow, he welcomed you to Hermes cabin as you were unclaimed. He personally showed you around camp, he sat next to you for all meals, and he helped you out with daily activities. It didn’t take long for you to begin admiring him back.
It was weeks later during a game of Capture the Flag when you two finally made it official. It had been a rare occasion of the game taking place at night. You had taken the initiative, pulling Luke behind a tree and kissing him under the moonlight. Since then, you’d been inseparable.
When Kronos started invading Luke’s dreams, he became distant.
To everyone else he seemed the same — training campers, smiling wide, basking in moments of glory. To you, he was a hollow version of himself. His frequent nightmares had him waking up in terror and chills. You coaxed him back to relaxation each and every night. You would press soft kisses to his curly hair, whispering phrases of adoration. He would tell you he loves you. You would say it back. But deep down you were choking on stress and fear and worry and bundles of negative emotions threatening to spill out of your raw, bitten lips. You cried more those nights than you did after he left.
After he betrayed the camp. After almost killing Percy Jackson. After giving you one last pleading look, begging you with his warm brown eyes to follow him and join him and be with him in his conquest of glory. You had told him you loved him. You had turned and ran away in the opposite direction.
You hadn’t seen him since.
It was almost 3 years since that fateful night. You had dreams and nightmares centering around your past relationship. You missed Luke, your Luke, but knew he was too far gone for saving. You walked around camp each day with a hole in your chest where your heart should’ve been. It was a filthy, gaping wound infected with regret. You were a apathetic and alone.
You were, without a doubt, not an ideal questmate.
So… why did Annabeth choose you?
ii.
The labyrinth was musty, damp, hot and downright uncomfortable. You had been in and out numerous times over the duration of the quest; every exit was like a gasp of relief, and every entry was a fearful plunge into the unknown. The maze of tunnels and odd rooms had you perpetually on the edge, anxiety causing your eyes to see things that weren’t actually there, and your ears to pick up on sounds otherwise ignored.
You tried to stay as close to Percy and Annabeth as possible, but you did occasionally give them space to talk. They were best friends (and clearly in love) and you were the odd third wheel in this situation. You were getting closer to them over the duration of the quest, friendship wise, but you still prioritized their relationship.
So, when a voice clearly called out your name in a hushed whisper, it made sense that only you had heard it. Percy and Annabeth were too far ahead of you to hear, immersed in their own private conversation.
The voice whispered, “Y/n.”
A chill flushed over your spine. You unsheathed your sword and spun on your heel, desperate to make out the source of the voice. You couldn’t have been hallucinating. The voice was sharp, articulate, and clear as day in the quiet tunnel.
There was no one behind you.
You turned back to where Percy and Annabeth should’ve been ahead of you. Instead, there was a person standing there, a person all too familiar to you.
You dropped your sword, letting it clatter against the tunnel floor.
His warm brown eyes met yours, and you let out a gasp of unbridled shock. Nausea churned in your stomach. It was him.
Luke Castellan was standing in front of you.
“You…” Your voice wavered off, too many emotions clogging your throat to produce a coherent thought.
You knew he’d be in the labyrinth. You’d psyched yourself up in preparation of facing him. But.. you thought you would’ve been facing him in the presence of your friends, not alone. Alone was worse. Being alone with Luke opened the floodgates to all the memories you had previously shut away.
Your first kiss in the woods. Cuddling in the Hermes’ cabin, much to the other campers dismay. Sparring and his cocky grin he flashed with every victory. When he returned from his failed quest with an ugly gash over his eye, and you helped nurse him back to health. The night he first said he loved you, under the light of the moon with your bare bodies intertwined on shores of the beach.
Nausea. Anxiety. Guilt. Fear —
Love.
Sadness. Regret. Anger —
Love.
Love.
He looked vastly different from how he did the moment he fled camp, the last time you had seen him. His skin was paler, his body leaner. His curly dark hair had grown longer. His eyes were sullen and sad. His normal camp clothes were covered with armour.
“Luke…” Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “Oh, gods, Luke.. what are you doing?”
“Hey, there.” He said softly, giving you a small smirk as he stepped forward. “I’ve missed you.”
“You haven’t.” Your bottom lip wobbled. “Liar. You don’t care about me, so don’t lie and pretend like you do..”
“Y/n, I never stopped caring.” Luke reached his hand out to cup your cheek, using his thumb to stroke away one of your tears. The touch felt so familiar, yet so foreign. He felt like a ghost come back to life. “I’ve missed you every single day since I left. When I found out you’d be in the labyrinth, I made sure I’d do everything I could to find you.”
“I don’t understand,” you let out a sob, frozen in place, debating running away and forfeiting the stupid quest all together. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
Luke leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. It was gentle, and soft, and sweet, and so contradictory to every aspect of his behaviour the past 3 years. You should’ve hated him. Your instincts should’ve made you pick up your sword and stab him in his side and let him bleed out without remorse.
You didn’t, though. You couldn’t. Because deep down you still loved him. And part of you, a really small fragile part, had the audacity to believe he still loved you, too.
You squeezed your eyes shut and cried and let him press another kiss to your forehead, and another to your cheek, his hand trailing lower to rest gently at the base of your throat. You swallowed hard and met his eyes again, finding them to be clouded with a layer of guilt. Your heart lifted.
“I need you to know that I love you,” Luke said, voice hushed in a whisper. “This may be the last time I ever see you. I want to give you one last chance.”
You whimpered. “One last chance to do what?”
“Join me.” He said, eyes darting between yours. “Or let this be goodbye, forever.”
He pressed his lips to yours.
You gasped into the kiss, your hands reaching up to encircle his neck and grab his curls. He pulled your body flush against his, lifting your leg and holding your head. He kissed you like he was starving and you were the first thing he’d tasted in eons.
The kiss quickly became rough, teeth clashing and your fingers gripping his hair a little too tight. He growled low in his throat and pushed your back to the cavern wall. You didn’t give a damn that the wall was slick and slimy. All you felt was him. All you wanted was him.
Your lips were bruised and aching when he pulled away for air. The echos of your shaky breaths engulfed the chamber you stood in. Your heart was pounding in your chest, so hard you feared it was going to give out.
He kissed you again. You made the move to remove your camp shirt, letting it fall to the ground beside your discarded sword. Luke latched his mouth to the skin above your bra, sucking and kissing until bright red marks formed.
Luke unhooked his Celestial bronze breast plate and dropped it. As he leaned back in for another heated kiss, a voice called out —
“Now!”
You turned and saw Annabeth and Percy charging you, weapons drawn and ready to fight. Luke unsheathed his own blade in a flash, just in time to defend himself from their attacks.
The three demigods fought in the narrow corridor, dodging and striking in rapid succession. You couldn’t bring yourself to participate or to watch. You crumpled to the floor in your own personal defeat. Everything finally clicked into place.
At some point, the fight had ended with Luke managing a quick evasion down some secret pathway and successfully evading Percy and Annabeth’s hunt.
Once again, Luke Castellan was gone from your life. All you could manage to do was stare at the wall, knees pulled close to your chest, feeling a sensational numbness engulf you.
Annabeth returned and knelt beside you. She placed a comforting hand to your knee, as Percy stood behind her with a deep sadness in his eyes. “Are you okay?” She asked, voice laced with concern.
“You brought me on this quest as bait,” you said, your own voice hoarse from crying. “You knew Luke would find me. You knew you’d get a chance to strike if we were alone.”
“…That is true,” Annabeth admitted sheepishly. “I realize now that it would’ve been nice to tell you about that beforehand. But that’s not the only reason why I chose you.”
You scoffed. “Really? Of all the people at camp? I’m not special. I’m broken.”
“Y/n, you’re an incredible swordsman.” Annabeth chided. “You’re the only one who’s ever beat Luke in a fight.”
“And you’re fun to talk to,” Percy added. “You’ve helped keep us sane in this stupid maze.”
“We seriously could not have gotten this far without you,” Annabeth said with a small smile. “Again, I’m sorry for not telling you about the.. ‘bait’ plan. I thought you would turn down my quest invitation if you knew beforehand.”
“I definitely would have, you’re right.” You said with a sigh, wiping a stray tear that was gliding down your cheek. Momentarily, your heart clenched as you were reminded of Luke’s hand on your cheek, wiping your tears away only minutes prior. You pushed the feeling aside. “Sorry, Annie.”
“I’m the one that’s sorry here.” The other girl said. “Now, I understand if you’d like to go back to camp after that. But I’d really, really prefer if you finished this quest with us.
Annabeth stood up, holding out her hand to you.
You bit your lip. Going back to camp and curling up in a ball on your bed sounded really nice at that moment. But… you didn’t want to leave these kids to finish this task alone. You needed to help them see it through to the end.
You took Annabeth’s hand and rose to your feet.
iii.
The next time you see Luke, he’s laying in a golden sarcophagus, seemingly asleep.
Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, a husk of his old appearance. You lean forward to brush a stray curl off of his forehead and are overcome with a wave of sadness. He barely stirs in his sleep. Part of you wishes he’d wake up so you could see his warm brown eyes one last time.
As if he had somehow heard your thoughts, Luke awoke from his slumber.
His hand grips your wrist, halting your movements of fixing his hair. His eyes shoot open and you gasp.
This isn’t Luke.
His pupils are shockingly bright and golden, an evil aura radiating from his body.
This isn’t Luke.
This is Kronos.