He knows who he is.

His name is Lucas Clarke. He is twenty-years-old. He has blonde hair and blue eyes. He is the son of Marianne and Henry Clarke. His hobbies include running, travelling, and clutching his head. A lot of clutching his head.


"Hey, Houdini. You okay?" He looks up and tries for a smile.

"Yeah. I'm… Fine." She raises an eyebrow.

"You're clutching your head and cursing the gods. I don't think you're 'fine.'" He chuckles grimly. Only she is like this, calling him out for being too angsty.

"No, I'm serious. I might have been… annoyed, before, but… I'm fine now." She smirks.

"Good. I'm not travelling with an emo." He smirks back.

"Takes one to know one."

She whacks him with a tree branch for that.


Sometimes, he wonders if his… condition is like cramps. The way they sneak up on him unexpectedly.

It happens during a lecture, once. His teacher mentions something about a book series, Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and his head hits the table with a dull thud. Everyone turns to look at him with expressions of concern and Wow-What-A-Loser on their faces, but all he can hear is one name, pounding his head.

Percy Jackson


The green-eyed kid preteen trudges back towards him, a scowl on his face.

"Holy… Why aren't those girls in the Olympics?"

"Cheer up, Percy," he says, grinning. "It gets easier."

The newbie huffs. "Easy for you to say. You haven't just learned that you're slower than a tree."


After that episode, people start giving him weird looks in the hallways.

His English teacher never mentions anything about Percy Jackson anymore.


He strides through the corridors of the Princess Andromeda and heads out onto the deck. There are a few mortals still there, and a bitter smile spreads across his face.

Oh, mortals. So blissfully ignorant of the world around them.

After a moment of looking out onto the ocean, he sighs, -a great, heaving sound- and heads for what he has been putting off.

. . .

When he comes back with nothing different except for his eyes -cold, sharp, and gold-, the monsters and demigods on his side look at him differently. There is still the deference and respect as before but now it seems… different. More… confident.

Certain.

(A few demigods meet his gaze with a new sense of loyalty in their eyes.)

He is their leader. They know that now.


One of his worst… visions -?- happens at a library.

A few of the teens who go to his school are scattered around the place, studying for some test.

He passes a few of the shelves when he notices the face of a girl on the newspaper.

YOUNG ASPIRING ARCHITECT HELPS DESIGN NEW ATTRACTION

The letters are jumbled from then (he has dyslexia) but he isn't paying attention to them. His eyes are fixed on the face of the girl in the picture.

She has honey blonde princess curls and stormy grey eyes that are shining with happiness. Her tan skin gleams in the sunlight, and she is wearing a denim jacket with an orange shirt underneath. Her name is in small black letters and he guesses that she's about seventeen.

He doesn't read any of that. All he knows is that he's seen this girl before, talked with her before, he knows this girl.

A name appears in his head and he tangles his fingers into his blonde hair and collapses. People look at him with expressions of alarm and Oh-Look-It's-That-Weirdo-Lucas-What's-His-Face-Again on their faces.

He ignores them all. The only thing he doesn't ignore? The name thundering in his head.

Annabeth Chase


"Hey, hey, hey." He gently grabs her small hands away from her hair. "Don't do that. It'll ruin your pretty hair."

She scowls up at him, her bottom lip sticking out in a faint pout and speaks in a clear, childish tone.

"I am not defined by the appearance of my hair."

He laughs. "Of course not, Annabeth. I'm just saying that you probably don't want to yank out all of your hair, right?" She shakes her head.

"Nope. This is one thing that… Helen," she speaks the name with disgust, "Doesn't have."

He smiles grimly. A seven-year-old shouldn't have to deal with all this crap.

"But-" She tugs on the bottom of his shirt and he looks down at her. Annabeth's eyebrows are scrunched and her nose is wrinkled. He wonders how anyone could ever hurt that face.

"Yeah, Beth?" She wrinkles her nose even more at the nickname but doesn't comment. (He's about to die from the adorableness.)

"Why do you do it?"

He looks down at her, suddenly high alert. Their other travelling companion would kill him if he started giving Annabeth bad habits.

"Do what?"

"Clutch your head," she replies as if it should be obvious.

"I…" His voice trails off. He can't find a good enough reason, and the little blonde genius knows it.

"Um… It's grown up stuff, Annie," he said, gently. She glares at him.

"That's what Daddy said-" he winces at the use of past tense as if Frederick Chase is dead, "-When Helen-" there's the disgust again, "Used to yell to him about me and I asked him about it."

"Yeah, well… This is a different kind of grown up stuff. One day you'll know why I do it."

She looks annoyed but accepts the answer. He catches her attention with his next words.

"Hey, Annabeth?"

"Yes?"

"Promise me you won't."

"Won't what?"

"Yank your hair." He doesn't give a reason, but she nods like she understands. She probably does. He swears that girl is going to change the world someday.

"Promise."


(Somewhere there is a blonde-haired, grey-eyed daughter of Athena out there who never yanks her hair. She kept her promise. He didn't.)


By now, he's as crazy as the weird old guy who chews on his own sock (while his foot is still in it) on the subway. People walk past him whispering-

"That's Lucas Clarke, the guy that bangs his heads on tables and screams in the middle of libraries."

"Does he have a psychologist?"

"Don't know, but he should. The guy's-"

"Ohmygod, shut up, he's right there, what is wrong with you-"

Then they'll notice him. He'll fake a smile and wave at him, and they'll wave back, smiling with closed lips to hide their clenched teeth.

"He's kinda hot, though."

"Yeah, I know but he's senile, remember? Banging his head onto tables, collapsing in libraries?"

"Yeah, yeah."

He'll grit his teeth and act like it doesn't bother him, but there's a reason that there are fist-sized indentations in the walls of the closet in his room.


After that quest, mortals turn away from him quickly. It hurts a little, knowing that without that scar they would probably let their eyes linger on his -okay, fine, handsome- features like they used to.

But the scar is there, jagged and ugly, and now the people flush bright red when he catches them staring. They don't come talk to him anymore, though. No, they turn and walk away.

Just another reason that makes him hate the gods.


It only gets worse from there, though he becomes better at controlling it.

He goes to a petting zoo once and there is some guy dressed up as a goat. He sits down on the grass and leans back against the sturdy trunk of a tree, massaging his temples.


"What the…" He can stop staring at the guy's legs. From the waist up, he looks pretty normal, with curly brown hair, brown eyes, a rasta cap, and lots of acne. But his legs.

They are furry, and he has goddamn hooves, and he bets that if the half-goat took of his rasta cap, there would be small horns poking out of his chestnut curls. The satyr puts his hand out.

"Grover Underwood."

He shakes it.


The absolute worst one hits him in the middle of a forest.

Originally, he had just gone there for a run, to get away from the fake smiles and the whispered conversations.

That's when everything changes.

He looks up at the night sky and the first thing he sees is the moon. (That's sign number one.)

He winces at the sight of the moon and the next thing his eyes settle on is a pine tree. (That's sign number two.)

Shaking his head, he continues running, when he comes across a deer print. (That's sign number three.)

And it's all he needs.

A kaleidoscope of memories floods his mind.


"So, how does this work?" He asks, jutting his chin towards Amaltheia, the goat version of a drink vending machine. "Do you, like, feed her a dollar and get a free squirt of Mountain Dew? Is that how it works?"

She punches him.

"What was that for?" He cries.

"For being stupid." She doesn't give any more reasons and he doesn't ask for any more.


"Really? A golf club?" She raises her eyebrow and, even though he knows that she's mocking him, he smiles back.

"Hey," a shrug, "desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Was the monster a golfer…?"

"Oh, shut up."

She laughs, and somehow, that makes his idiocy worth it.


He doesn't know how to braid hair and neither does Thalia, so when Annabeth comes up to him with a tie in one hand and a brush in the other, he has no idea what he's doing.

She winces when he brushes too hard and he winces at a number of tangles. (He doesn't even want to know where she got the tie and brush.)

Eventually, he gives up and just gives her a nice ponytail. She giggles and runs off, ready for bed.

He stares at the stars and soon enough, Thalia joins him.

"Annabeth really likes you, you know," she says quietly. "She loves the ponytail."

"Did she tell you that she wanted a braid in the first place?" He asks dryly. Thalia chuckles and puts an arm around his shoulders. He returns the favour, and they stare at the stars together.

"You know," she says after a minute, "Beth says that she actually likes ponytails better. Especially when you do them."

He doesn't say anything, but a smile curls at the corners of his lips. Thalia sees this and squeezes him a little tighter.

He smiles.


Sometimes, he wonders if he would taste good.

He's not wondering about that right now, but the dracenae who they've stumbled upon probably are.

Thalia fights one and he fights the other, while Annabeth shouts out moves. They follow her instructions (with a little bit of improv) and the two dracenae are finished off.

Later, when Annabeth is asleep, Thalia recounts it.

"Thanks, by the way," she whispers, surprising him. Thalia has next to no manners, but here she is thanking him.

"For what?" He asks.

"For having my back." She smiles at him, her eyes twinkling, and he's at a loss for words.

He decides to kiss her instead.

After a while, they pull back, resting their foreheads against each others.

"Luke Castellan, I think I like you," Thalia declares, grinning all the while.

"Thalia Grace, I think I like you too," he replies, grinning back.


Grover Underwood

Percy Jackson

Annabeth Chase

Thalia Grace

Luke Castellan

He knows what the visions are now. They're flashbacks.


Luke (he prefers it over Lucas) has become obsessed with finding them. Grover, Percy, Annabeth, and Thalia. Definitely Thalia.

He remembers Camp Half-Blood, but he can't remember where it's located. As a last resort, he asks his English and Media professor about the Percy Jackson books.

The man looks at him with a look (is that fear in his eyes?) but tells him where he can find the books.

Luke stays in the library for hours. He'd be lying if he said that he hadn't doubled over or winced from the throbbing in his head. But by the end of the day, he knows exactly where Camp Half-Blood was. Now, all he needs to do is go at the same time as the Hunters.

He decides that if there are Fates they would let him see Thalia.


"Lucas," Marianne calls the next morning. "Where're you heading, honey?"

"To see some old friends," he replied, with a bitter half-smile.

She has no idea how accurate that was.


He's not a demigod, but there must be traces of ichor in his blood because he walks through the protective barrier.

And there it is. Camp Half-Blood. He doesn't look around at the cabins, he just beelines for the arena, where a gut feeling tells him that that's where the people he needs to see will be.

He's right.

Percy and Annabeth are duelling, and Grover is so focused on them that he doesn't even notice when Luke quietly stands before them.

"They're good, aren't they?" He remarks, quietly.

"Yeah, they are," the satyr replies distractedly.

Percy jabs at Annabeth, who parries and tries to disarm him. He twists out of it and goes on the defensive, but Annabeth catches the hilt of his sword with her sword -is that made out of drakon bone?- and disarms him. They laugh and shake hands and Luke decides to make his presence known.

"Not bad, Percy! Annie's still better, though."

Percy scowls for a second before his face settles into an easy smile.

Then he whips his head around so fast he should have gotten whiplash. The son of Poseidon opens his mouth as if to say something, but no sound comes out. All he does is stare at Luke.

Annabeth isn't looking at him when he speaks. Her sword drops out of her hand and hits the ground with a thud. A few campers look over curiously at the usually put together daughter of Athena. The aforementioned daughter of Athena slowly turns around, not saying a word. Then, without any warning, she runs towards him at full force, tackling him to the ground. He just holds her, patting her back and combing his fingers through her honey-blonde locks.

A few of the older campers seem to realize who he was, but they are warier about stepping forward. It stings a little, but it's not like he can blame them. He did, after all, betray Olympus and all the demigods on its side.

Annabeth finally pulls back. "So, you really did it," she murmurs. "You really did choose rebirth." She smiles. "That means you got Elysium."

He grins back at her. "You were right, Annie." She scowled.

"Just because you just came back from the dead does not mean you get to patronize me with a childhood nickname." He laughs.

"You haven't changed a bit." She chuckles too.

And then she stops.

"You left," she murmurs. "You left, and you betrayed us all, and- and you- you said we would be family, Luke." Her final two words are like shattered glass. Broken but still sharp. Still dangerous.

"You promised."

With each word, she inches back until she's standing up. The ferociousness of her glare pushes him to stand up too and he realizes that he's still taller than her, something bittersweet.

"I know, gods, I know, Annabeth," he tries. "And you don't know how many nights on board that ship that I-"

"That you what?" She snaps. "That you realized that you had betrayed Olympus? Betrayed me?"

"Yeah."

Annabeth blinks. She didn't expect him to agree so readily, that much is clear.

"What?"

"You think I didn't know?" He demands, chuckling bitterly. "You think I didn't know that what I was doing was wrong, that I was betraying so many people? You think I didn't try to regain power and realize that I was in too deep and there was no turning back?"

He shakes his head slowly.

"Anger, envy, and bloodlust- They can make you do bad things, sometimes."

"Sometimes, Castellan?" A sharp voice interrupts from behind him. "How about always."

Luke inhales sharply.

"Thalia," he whispers. Silently, Percy, Annabeth, Grover, and all the other demigods quietly leave the arena. Luke is almost positive that they are spying on him and Thalia from the other side of the arena.

He slowly turns around and it's like a bomb has exploded in his chest. It's so painful, seeing Thalia exactly as she had been the last time he had seen her, terrifyingly angry, her blue eyes flashing with lightning.

It hurts even more because now her features are crystal clear in his mind and he remembers a time when her eyes were sparkling with laughter and her thin lips were curved into a smirk and her words weren't cutting and accusing.

"Would never have thought you would have dared to come back after what you did," she accuses. "Looks like you have a thing for doing a lot of things I would never have thought you would do."

This is it. This is the moment he's been waiting for such a long time. This is his only chance.

"Like fighting some monster with a golf club?" He asks wryly. Thalia freezes.

"You still remember that?" She murmurs.

"Course I do," he murmurs. "You wouldn't let me forget."

"Well, you obviously did, otherwise, you wouldn't have tried to kill me," Thalia snaps, recovering quickly.

"That- That wasn't me," Luke defends. "That was Kronos."

"Well, Kronos wasn't trying to kill me on Mount Othrys, now was he?" Thalia counters.

"I wasn't trying to kill you. I was trying to stop you from killing me. You were the one who kicked me off of the mountain." Luke knows this is a losing battle seeing as Thalia wasn't the one that betrayed Olympus. Still, seeing her has ignited his old Unable-To-Let-An-Argument-Go stubbornness.

"Low blow, Castellan," Thalia hisses. But Luke can tell he's gotten under her skin. Her fingers are curling into fists and her eyebrows are furrowed and one does not simply spend so much time with Thalia Grace and not pick up a few of her quirks.

He takes a step back, lowering his pride. (Hm, maybe Annabeth has rubbed off on him a little too.)

"Alright, alright, I'm just stalling."

"Damn right you are," Thalia grumbles under her breath, still looking at Luke expectantly.

"I did horrible things and I'm never going to be able to get over that and I know you're never going to forgive me especially since you're a hunter now but- But just hear me out, okay? This isn't some crappy pity story, it's just that I… That somewhere along the line, I think it was when we met Hal, that I realized how bad the gods could really be. And then… The resentment just grew. It was sort of the demigod version of hating parents, and by the time I realized it wasn't right and started trying to fight Kronos- It just… I was in too deep. This isn't an excuse for what I did. I know I did a shitload of bad stuff but, but hey, at least I died in the end, right?"

Luke isn't sure what he's expecting from Thalia after his stream of excuses. Another cutting remark? A punch to the face? Death by lightning?

He definitely isn't expecting the fierce hug that is accompanied with warm tears trickling down Thalia's face and sinking into his shirt. It's been such a long time since Thalia had cried on him that all he can do is hug her back gently.

"Don't ever say that," Thalia murmurs in his neck. "Don't ever say it was a good thing that you died because it wasn't."

"Okay," Luke says quietly back. "Okay."

And it's almost ironic how that's the word that they choose. How okay is everything they are but at the same time everything they aren't.

Luke isn't exactly sure what's going to happen after the meeting, what's going to be achieved, what's going to get better-

But he doesn't expect to be slowly but surely accepted back into the demigod family.

He doesn't expect meeting Jason Grace and saying, "So this is the guy that Thalia missed so much…" and then smiling and adding, "I can see why" so kindly that Jason blushes to the tips of his ears and wonders if this is what having an older brother is like.

He doesn't expect to help Percy plan dates because Annabeth hasn't told Percy everything that the seven-year-old had told Luke and he definitely doesn't expect reassuring Percy that no, he does not like Annabeth and no, Annabeth definitely doesn't like him.

He doesn't expect meeting the new Nico di Angelo, finally happy, and Will Solace, his boyfriend. "I called it!" Luke crows when the couple blushingly tells him they are together. "I always knew you were gay, Solace!"

Nico can't stop laughing after that and that is when Luke is introduced to the amazing golden-eyed wonder that is Hazel Levesque and her endless stream of, "Alright, you made Nico laugh, we can be friends now."

He meets Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano and is, like ninety percent sure that Thalia and her are secretly together. Not, like, together together, well, maybe that too-

Reyna just laughs and says, "She's too into one of her other hunters… Which one was it, Dani?"

Thalia lightly punches Reyna in the arm and explains that Reyna and her had bonded over shared experiences with Jason and Luke would be lying if he says that he's not at least a little relieved.

And Luke doesn't expect slowly building back his friendship with Thalia. He accepts that they won't ever be the platonic bordering on romantic friends that they were before because Thalia is with Dani now (no matter how many times she denies it) and she genuinely enjoys being with the Hunters.

Somewhere along the line, he's accepted not expecting things and kissing Reyna is definitely not something expected. (Seriously, is he expecting anything now?"

It starts with her asking if he's a demigod and him saying, "No, why?" And then Reyna just smiles and Luke is enamored with her smile and she simply tells him, "Because if you weren't, I wouldn't be able to do-" She cups his face with her hands, "This."

And then she kisses him.

The End.

(Well, I mean, it's not really the end, because then they have a daughter and then another daughter and another daughter, and- You know what I'll stop now.)


He knows who he is.

His name is Luke Castellan. He is thirty-years-old. He has blonde hair and blue eyes. He is the son of Marianne and Henry Clarke. His hobbies include running, travelling, and being happy.

A lot of being happy.


Endings? What are these endings you speak of? Also: To anyone expecting (see what I did there? Hint, hint. Wink wink. Sorry…) Thaluke, I was actually planning to write it to, but I decided to just let Thalia live life with the Hunters and I remembered Aphrodite's promise to Reyna and then this just happened, so… Yeah. If any of you want an alternate ending: Theyna, Thaluke, then tell me and I'll try to write one. Other than that… Review! Favourite! And if you want better fics… Don't go on my profile, because all I have there is shit like this except with Jeyna!