Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson

A/N: This is an alternative ending to both The Last Olympian and my other short story, Story of My Life, Luke/OC (a.k.a. Tori), undefined (it's not a story/short-story, and I don't believe in a two-shots/three-shots/etc.), and there will be some dialogue from TLO.

I'm not going to say, you have to go ready Story of My Life for it to make sense, because I hate shoving my stories down people's throats and it probably will make sense still (…probably). But, in my opinion, I do believe that it would be a good idea to read it.

Hope you enjoy!

A promise must never be broken. ~ Alexander Hamilton

ἀνεῤῥίφθω κύβος
—
Let the Die be Cast

I missed New York City terribly. And after, almost, three years I was finally coming home. But it wasn't as sweet as I had wanted it to be. After everything that happened these past three years… I'd fallen into a void. Not even my city could help fill the gaping hole that just got bigger and bigger as the days past.

The radio volume suddenly increased, bringing me out of my thoughts. I was in a cab, heading toward Mrs. Alexander's place (she was my foster mom because my real mother left me out in the streets, crying, only months old).

"…floods," a newscaster was reporting. "Five states declared disaster areas as the freak storm system sweeps east—"

I leaned forward. "Hey, do you think you could turn it down a bit." I asked.

The cab driver gave me an odd, slightly annoyed, look through the rearview mirror. I threw him a twenty dollar bill. He held it up to the light to make sure it wasn't counterfeit. When he decided that it wasn't, he turned the radio down to a nice volume that I could easily ignore. I let out a breath and leaned back.

"Thank you." I muttered.

He grunted and waved a hand passively.

I knew what that announcer had been talking about. Typhon had escaped his prison in Mt. Saint Helens and was on his way here. To New York. To Mount Olympus. It probably wasn't the best idea to head to the place that was going to be a war zone in a couple of days, maybe less, but I was feeling awfully homesick. Besides, I'd been gone, like stated before, for just about three years. I wasn't about to run off again.

I had done some… bad things. When I'd gone off to find Luke, to stop all of this, he'd convinced me to join him. But things didn't exactly work out. After the day that Percy had revealed Luke's whole plan and what'd he done to camp he became more distant with me. I tried comforting him, tried talking to him but he pushed me away. Our whole relationship shattered afterwards.

It was so hard to see him being controlled by Kronos (I mean, not completely, not until just last year…) and I couldn't get to him anymore. I'd made the wrong decision and by then it was too late. No matter how hard I tried to convince him, he wouldn't listen. My pleas became so frequent he finally just labeled me prisoner and kept me in one of the rooms of the ship. I don't know why he didn't just feed me to one of the monsters. (I was hoping that it was because he still cared about me, still… loved me, but I couldn't be too sure.)

It was probably late January, early February (if I recall correctly), when everyone else was too busy with preparations to go in and scout the Labyrinth, I had managed to sneak out on the shores of one of the beaches down in San Francisco. That's when I started my long, grueling journey across the country and back to New York.

It was a lot harder than you think, because I didn't have a dime on me. I had my backpack full of clothes and my weapons: my sword, switchblade, and bow. That was it. I hitchhiked when I could, and sometimes I'd have to stay in a city for a couple of days to earn some money then I'd move on.

I know it would've been easier to just stay in one city until I could earn enough money for a train ride straight to New York, but I didn't want to be anywhere near California. I was actually afraid that Luke would send one of his monsters to find me, because if he didn't just kill me when he had the chance, then I was probably important in some way. I couldn't afford to stay in one city for too long.

Irrational, much? Probably.

But I didn't want to risk it.

However, in Colorado, I met another half-blood. She was older, like late twenties, early thirties. Her name was Alexis, and she was a daughter of Ares. She was about as tall as me and had short, spiky black hair with ruby red streaks. I was side-tracked then.

She was good. Like the best at fighting (which is really an acute word for all the skills she knew and had). She taught me hand-to-hand combat, how to fight someone with all kinds of weapons when I didn't have one, a few other unmentionables that involved sorts of… foul play during battle. She even had me learn ballet—of all things!—so that I'd become more flexible.

So, I stayed in Colorado for the rest of the year learning from her (and doing menial chores as payment), learning techniques from American (like parkour) and Asian (like pressure points on the body) cultures. I don't know where or when she, herself, had trained, but she was downright amazing. Now, I was too… well getting there anyway. She'd been training, almost, all her life.

When Typhon escaped his prison I decided it was time for me to head back to New York. One of the parting gifts she gave me was a specially made Swiss army knife. It had you're usual knifes (big and little), those microscopic scissors, etc., but it also held five poisonous blowdarts in a secret compartment. Not to worry though, it wasn't, like, monster poison, it was just poison that could knock you out for several hours. She also gave me a pair of converse that had a hollow part in the heel where I could hide my knife. It was pretty awesome.

Lastly, I got some cash so I could get back to New York. That I was awfully grateful for. Now we've, sort of, come full circle.

"Miss?" the cab asked breaking me out of my reverie.

I blinked and looked at him.

"We're here." he said slowly like he was just realizing I wasn't all there. I looked out the window and sure enough I saw Mrs. Alexander's apartment.

"Oh, okay." I murmured taking out a hundred. I threw it at him, grabbed my backpack and started to exit. "Keep the change."

When I got to my foster mother's door I couldn't get myself to knock. I wasn't sure how she would respond to my sudden appearance. I had called her telling her I was on some overseas study for school, but that was, the lucky number, three, years ago. I hadn't talked to her since because of my prisoner state.

What if she hated me now? I practically abandoned her without warning and without a goodbye. I wouldn't blame her if she did hate me after what I'd done to her.

But I wanted to so badly to have some sort of a home for at least a day or two.

Biting my lip, I lifted my hand to knock, but lost my nerve and lowered it again. I started to walk away when I thought that this was ridiculous! I was being ridiculous! It wasn't that hard to just reach up and knock twice. I'd never know if she really did hate me if I didn't.

Taking a deep breath, my heart pounding painfully against my ribcage, I went back to her door. I lifted my hand again, but before I could knock the door opened to reveal my foster mom.

Even after three years she didn't look any older than that last time I'd seen her. Her black hair was super short now, though; down to her shoulders instead of the middle of her back. I was probably several inches taller than her, too.

She gasped when she saw me and before I could say anything she threw her arms around me in a powerful hug.

"Oh, Tori! Tori! I missed you so much!" she cried. "I can't believe you're back. When I didn't hear from you, I just assumed…" She pulled back trailing off to look at me. She grinned widely, her eyes shining. "Oh, you look gorgeous. And your hair, it's so much longer now." she commented, bringing the braid I'd put it in over my shoulder. My champagne-blond hair had grown out down to my waist now and it was a lot easier to have it in a braid where I wouldn't have hair flying all over the place in case I got into a fight with a monster.

I gave her a small smile. "Thanks. You look great, too." I mumbled. "I missed you so much. I'm so sorry—"

Mrs. Alexander shook her head. "You don't need to apologize. I'm glad to see you back."

My eyes flickered inside the apartment and I realized that there was a big, black suitcase behind her.

"Going somewhere?" I asked too tired to hide my disappointment.

"Oh, sweetie," She smiled sadly. "My sister has fallen very ill and needs me to come take care of her for the time being. I'm terribly sorry. But there's food in the fridge, and you still have a bedroom." She stroked my hair comfortingly.

Tears had started to form in my eyes but I bit my tongue hard and held them back. I didn't know what to say so I pulled her into another bone-crushing hug.

"Give your sister my best wishes. I hope she gets better." I whispered pulling back.

"I will." Her eyes were watery as well. I stepped back so she could step out. "I love you, so much. I always have. Don't you forget that." she told me.

I nodded afraid if I spoke I'd break out into tears. "I… love you, too." I quickly choked out. She kissed my forehead and then headed down. When I heard the noise of the busy New York streets grow louder for a second and then become muffled, I slowly trudged into the apartment.

The door closed and I slid down to the floor before breaking out into tears.

Home, sweet home.

I was in a cave.

It was dim and dank. I could hear water dripping from the stalactites and into shallow pools all around. I couldn't see anything around me except for the cave walls stretching far above my head. As far as I could tell I was totally alone.

I took a few, cautious, steps forward.

"Hello?" I asked, my voice echoing off the walls. Nothing. "Um… hello?" I started to walk forward, chills rushing down my spine, wave after wave. A drop of icy cold water hit my head. Then more and more. It didn't stop. It actually started to rain inside this cavern.

I blinked the water out of my eyes, and realized that every time I blinked I'd see an image. I stopped walking, even though I was freezing—shivering in fact—the water was so arctic.

If I closed my eyes long enough, I could see them. The three Fates, with a string of yarn. They were sitting in the exact cave I was in. Two arches were behind them, with steps that led into a large, wide opening, and far off I could see the exit to a beach of some sort.

Two of them were sitting close together on my left side, the third sitting on the opposite side of the steps. She was holding a long, wooden pole with a wad of yarn wrapped around the top and a single string stretching out, across to the farthest one on my right, who also had a wad of yarn spindled and hanging like a pendulum in one of her hands. The last one was sitting with her legs crossed, her chin in her hand. I was guessing she cut the string.

They all wore black, Greek chitons with hoods. But only the one who had her legs crossed had hers up. They all were staring blankly, off into space. They all had depressing, sullen looks on their faces. The two with their hoods down, who held the yarn, had silver-gray hair that was pulled back into a bun, from what I could tell.

Movement caught my attention and my eyes flickered down. I felt absolutely paralyzed as the middle one pulled out long-bladed scissors. Bile rose in my throat and my eyes flickered up again. All three of them were now staring right at me. Their gazes boring into mine. My heart stuttered as I realized this was my string. My lifeline.

I wanted to shake my head, or say no as the third took the string into her free hand and brought it in between the blade of her shears. I watched, helplessly, as they closed over the thin piece of yarn.

"No!" I cried shooting up in my bed as the snip of the scissors reverberated inside my skull. I was covered in a cold sweat from head to toe, and my heart was hammering against my chest. Well, I wasn't dead… but that remained to be seen. I was sure that they had just cut my string. That meant I was doomed to die.

I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. "No." I moaned. I didn't want to die. At least, not yet. I wanted to save Luke. I wasn't going to leave this earth until he was him once again. That was my mission. I couldn't afford to die yet!

I took a shaky breath, trying to regroup. If I wasn't dead yet, maybe I'd still get my chance. Just maybe…. I had to keep fighting until my last breaths. I wasn't going to give up just because I knew my fate.

I glanced over at the clock, mid-afternoon. I had lied down to take a nap, but after that vision I felt more tired than ever, now.

As if that wasn't enough, just then, everything came crashing down on me.

I had been very careful to avoid TV, radio, newspaper, magazines, anything that reported what was going on with the Typhon "storm", and the coming war for the three days I'd been back in New York. (Actually, scratch that, the war was already here; it just hadn't made its way to Olympus yet.) I was trying to make my homecoming a little more enjoyable without having to worry about impending doom.

Anyway, like I was saying it all came down, like the sky had just slammed onto my shoulders (not that I knew what that felt like, and didn't think I wanted to). It was just this terrible feeling of dread and foreboding smothering me.

Everything seemed normal enough. I mean the usual hustle and bustle of the New York streets continued on. The sun shone, not as bright as usual though. But that feeling didn't fade or go away, it actually increased as I sat there in my bed, trying to figure out what was wrong (besides the obvious).

It had me feeling so fatigued I shook, but that could've been that ominous dream too. My heart thudded in my throat uncomfortably. My breath was shaky and jagged.

Gods, I was losing it.

I stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. Something big and terrible was going to happen today (hopefully not my death) and I needed to get to Manhattan as soon as possible. First, the necessity, though, of taking a shower, because when you don't take a shower for days, sometimes, weeks at a time you tend to start loving them.

As soon as I was dressed I braided my hair and laced two chopsticks through it (one of them was disguised as a chopstick, when it was actually a pipe to shoot the blowdarts), packed two pairs of clean clothes (just in case) and my sword into my backpack, attached my switchblade to my ankle where it could be hidden behind my jeans, and slipped on my converse, the Swiss army knife already in its compartment. I grabbed what was left of my money wad that Alexis had given me and rushed out the door.

The feeling lessened after I hailed a taxi and told him to go to the Empire State Building. I was still feeling on edge, biting my lip, and bouncing my leg impatiently. Every so often I'd look at my watch, but a minute (sometimes not even that) would have only passed. The ride felt like it was taking forever! I didn't know if it was due to the fact that something terrible was going to happen or because traffic was heavier than usual at this time of day, but it majorly sucked!

And when I did finally get there, guess what I saw? Just guess….

It was a whole group of half-bloods from camp, along with Chiron and Argus. I had been so preoccupied with my own thoughts, looking down at the floor of the car; I hadn't noticed the three, large white vans pulled up at the curb right in front of the Empire State building.

What were they even doing here? I'd never seen such a big group of them, all together, like that before. Although I did notice that none of the kids from the Ares cabin was there, but other than this it seemed that the rest of the campers were all here.

"Stop!" I blurted out to the driver, panicking. I couldn't imagine what they'd do if they saw me, and I wasn't about to find out. I'm sure they hated me for what I'd done for two summers in a row (helping/spying for Luke and all that), and probably hated me more so, now because I'd joined Luke's army. If I showed up I had a feeling that it'd be mutilate now, ask questions later. I wouldn't have time to explain that I was no longer on his side. Though, I still loved him dearly….

The driver slammed on the breaks, someone honking angrily behind him, and glared at me through the rearview mirror. I smiled apologetically.

"Here's fine." I said, throwing him a fifty before sneaking out and onto the sidewalk. I clenched my hand around the strap of my bag, but let my body look nonchalant, and headed in the opposite direction of the big group, conversing and talking. I turned the corner and relaxed.

I stepped out of the foot traffic off to the side, and leaned against the wall, head down. What was I doing? Going into something like this totally blind! It was just those horrible emotions rushing through me right now, like the whole world was going to end right here and now.

I shook myself, feeling the need to move more. I stepped back onto the sidewalk and headed for a coffee shop that I knew of two blocks away on 35th and 7th. I wanted to be close, but I wanted to be far enough away to take that paranoia off.

I walked in just as the sun started setting, turning the city a beautiful shade of orange. I was instantly hit with the scent of chocolate mochas and the sound of blenders making frappuccinos. I relaxed slightly and got in line to get something for myself. To calm my nerves.

I ordered a hot chocolate on a whim because I wanted to pretend I was ten-years-old again; when I didn't know I was a half-blood, when everything was okay, when I didn't have so much responsibility or baggage or worry weighing my shoulders down. I sat down at one of their small, two-person tables staring blankly at my cup and the mountain of whipped cream on top with a swirl of hot fudge.

I slowly lifted my cup to my lips and took a sip. Warmth flooded into my mouth, down my throat, and settled in my stomach bringing me back to when I was ten. Sliding my eyes closed I tried to imagine Mrs. Alexander's bubbly voice chattering away about historical facts or art or a good book she'd read recently. And, for a moment, at least, I did feel ten again. I did feel small and innocent.

I could almost feel Mrs. Alexander's hand gently touch mine.

"Are you okay?" she would ask.

My eyes opened and I sighed when I didn't see her hand over mine. That's when I realized just how silent it was. This wasn't just silent, it was dead silent. There was no noise at all. All I could hear was the ringing in my ears and my shallow breathing.

I looked around confused. No one was moving. They were all slumped in their seats. The people who'd been standing in line or just standing waiting for their drinks were curled up on the floor, like they'd become tired and decided to take a nap in the middle of the store. I slid from my chair, taking my sword out of my backpack and strapping it to my waist, before throwing my bag over my shoulder.

I snuck a peek behind the counters. The workers were also, sleeping on the floor. None of them were dead, their chests were moving, but… that didn't just happen. I looked up and outside. It was too dark, and the lights inside were reflecting back my confounded facial expression, like a mirror. My jade-green eyes were as wide as a doe's caught in headlights.

I hastily stepped outside thinking my ears would be flooded with sound of horns honking and angry drivers screaming, the sidewalks teeming with life and lights. But that was a naïve thought. Outside looked the same as the inside of the coffee shop. My throat swelled up looking at all the sleeping people. The cars sat, idle, on the street, their drivers slumped over the wheel or off to the side. Sleeping pedestrians littered the streets and doorways. It was some kind of magic, probably by one of the Titans.

The entire city of Manhattan had been hushed.

I wandered the streets, as sounds of battle reverberated throughout the silent city streets. Because of all the buildings the sound waves bounced back and forth, making it sound like there were assaults coming from all directions. It was a never ending onslaught of screams, cries, bronze-against-bronze. I wanted to run away from it all, it was becoming too much. But if I was correct I wouldn't be able to escape without meeting half-bloods.

I would've joined the fight, I really would, but there were two problems: (1) if I went to fight without proper armor, I'd surely die quickly and painfully, and (2) both sides would be against me. I was a half-blood, so the monsters would, inevitably, take advantage of my un-armored state and barrage me. Then again, if I showed up, everyone knew of my betrayal at camp. They'd automatically think—especially being in the middle of a war—I was still with the Titans and they'd probably aim to kill me as well.

It wasn't look too good either way.

So, I decided it would be best if I just stayed back. I still hadn't figured out just how I was going to get Luke back, but I was working on it. You couldn't blame me. Changing a titan lord back into someone you used to have a relationship with was a lot harder than it sounded. I was not going to give up hope though. I just wasn't. I couldn't.

Luke was like my last, and only, lifeline. If he was gone, if I couldn't save him… I don't know what I'd do.

I would've at least tried to sleep, but with all the noise and the knowing that all the people I knew were in a war didn't put me in the sleeping mood. So, tuning out the din as best I could, I walked the streets of Manhattan, making sure to stay well away from the Empire State Building and any of the bridges/tunnels that led off the island. As I walked I'd come across a cell phone that was still ringing, and sometimes I think I saw huge automatons that looked like the statues all over Manhattan, but I was delirious, so I wasn't so sure….

It was probably about three or four-ish when I finally couldn't walk anymore, my feet felt like they'd been dipped in cement blocks. So I found a bus bench, used my backpack as a pillow and lied down. I was so exhausted that as soon as my eyes closed I was out. I woke up two hours later—thankfully no scary dreams that involved the Fates haunted me—with the sun reflecting on one of the windows on a skyscraper and into my eyes.

I groaned and sat up blinking sleep out of my eyes. The sounds from last night had died, but I still felt as if I could hear them. I stretched; my neck sore from sleeping on a bench. I threw my backpack over my shoulder and started looking for a store that had a drinking fountain. Regrettably I didn't bring a water bottle, so I had to get my fill there.

I had probably taken, I don't know, ten steps away from the building when a voice said, "Well, look what the cat dragged in." My hands balled into fists and I cursed silently. I'd know that voice anywhere.

I snorted. "You would know how that feels, wouldn't you?" I asked.

I felt a sharp poke in my back, right between my shoulder blades. "No sudden movements." he ordered his voice tight with vexation.

I turned my head to look at him over my shoulder, my lips turning up into a wry smile. "Or you'll what? Stab me?" I asked. He dug his sword deeper into my back and I clenched my teeth.

"Turn." he barked, avoiding my question. I turned to look at him with an "I could care less" look. "Nice to see you again, Victoria." he said smiling sarcastically. I hated it when he used my full name. It's not like I didn't like my full name, I just liked Tori better.

I mimicked his expression. "That's Tori, to you, Daniel." He liked to go by Dan.

Figures; sometimes I wondered how we were ever fraternal twins. I guess now I knew something we had in common. (Well, I suppose, besides looking almost exactly alike.)

He kept his sword under my chin, just skimming my neck.

I pushed it away. "Put the sword down before someone gets hurt." I said. He brought it back, closer this time. I wasn't too worried, he was much better with a bow.

"Still an orphan, I see." he commented lightly. I suppressed the impulse to punch him. Instead, I shoved his sword away again, and before Dan could bring it back, I performed a roundhouse kick, hitting his wrist with my heel. His sword flew out of his hand, not ready for the blow, and I took advantage of his weaponless state and quickly executed a high sidekick to his head.

He stumbled back, slightly disoriented. I unsheathed my sword and held it to the hollow of his throat. His jaw was working, his eyes shooting daggers.

"You shouldn't have said that." I advised in a low voice.

"What; is someone still bitter about the fact that Apollo won't claim you?" he sneered.

I gripped the hilt of my sword tighter. "Well, he obviously has terrible taste in which children he claims. I mean, look at you." I retorted as lightly as I could.

Dan rolled his eyes. "Oh, get over yourself, Victoria."

He was taking this too easily, like there wasn't a sword pointed at his throat. I turned slightly to look behind me just as an arrow came flying toward me and lodged itself into my right shoulder.

.happiness.

~ See you at Camp Half-Blood!