Disclaimer: I own nothing. This fic was written and dedicated to a certain challenger. I hope I do their challenge justice. Enjoy and review.
Chapter 1 – Percy's P.O.V
It was so hot I felt like my skin was going to peel off. I had one shot, one to get this right. Sweat beaded on my forehead and ran into my eyes, making them sting uncomfortably. Light blared as Kronos tried to burn out his mortal shell. Burn out Luke, a sharp pang entered my chest before I chastised myself. It was his own fault. He chose his own path.
The knife skidded to his feet and for a second I thought he wasn't going to pick it up. The blood compulsion I had placed on it held true and horror crossed his face as it glowed bright red and raced towards his mortal spot. With an enraged cry it pieced through his armour and everything exploded.
I woke to ringing in my ears, and that was wrong. I shouldn't have woken. That compulsion had a cost. Paid in blood, sacrifice my life for the sake of the world. So why was I still here? My inner turmoil was broken by a feminine sounding groan. Laying in armour in the spot that Luke had stood was a blonde girl with familiar blue eyes and scar across her face that had once been on the distinctly male host to the Titan of Time. Tired, sore, leaking blood from various wounds, and probably suffering severe internally bleeding and fractures one could understand the less than polite greeting that exited my mouth.
"Look it's been a really shit week, so excuse me for asking but who the fuck are you?" I asked in a deadened tone that surprised me. I was hoping for a little more pep. It wasn't my crazy family so it wasn't so bad. She looked at me as if I had suddenly donned a top had and a time piece, declaring that she was late for tea.
"Percy?" she asked dumbfounded in return.
"Yes," I said slowly, tilting my head as I studied her. She wasn't in a good way, in fact she looked nearly as badly hurt as I was. I pulled myself towards her and started examining her more serious injuries. "Now, your name if you please?" I pressed.
"I don't remember you being a girl, in fact despite Clarisse's constant teasing about you being the sea princess I distinctly remembered seeing a boy like something between the thighs that time I accidently walked in on you in the shower," she said before shuddering, "It was really gross."
"You still didn't tell me your name," I said flatly. She shook her head and looked a bit dizzy, as if her concussion had concussion. I supposed that I could cut her some slack, but I was currently using my nifty breathing underwater abilities to ignore the lungful's of blood that just couldn't be healthy.
"Luca, daughter of Hermes," she finally answered the question. My sleep deprived brain ticked over. LUKE-a? Daughter of Hermes? Certain that I was supposed to be a man, and I positive that she was supposed to be a one to, and a dead one at that. Before I could speak, to share my conclusion, agonising coughs racked my body and blood started to appear on the white marble floor in disturbing quantities. Arms wrapped around my chest, as she – Luca, dizzily helped me not to pass out in a pool of my own blood.
I wound up laying on the floor, palely and just out of reach of the pools of blood. Panting and trying to not, you know, die of blood loss before anyone found us. Neither of us in any condition to go out and find them. That moment the dearly immortal part of my family took an opportunity to burst in, weapons blazing, only to stop short to see that the battle had already been fought and won.
"Hey, did you know defeating the Lord of Time blows a hole in the fabric of the universe?" I questioned blearily sitting up, "This is Luca, daughter of Hermes. I think she got sucked through it, and this one didn't side with granddad." I paused and then whipped around jerkily, narrowing my eyes. "I think," I added, waiting for her to comment. She looked horrified at the idea.
"In my world I was standing next to a male you, helping nail that bastard," she fairly growled. Overtired, my mind decided to comment on the ramifications of that with humour.
"Nailed as in killed or nailed as in," I started but she cut me off.
"Screwed, gross," she said wrinkling her nose, "Please tell me that is not something that you ever considered." A decisively out of it smile appeared on my face.
"Noooo. No way, but could you imagine the looks on the others faces if we said we did," I chuckled, "That would be fairly bitchin'." She quickly became overcome with giggles that made the stab wound in her side bleed more than normal and then seemed to have reached her blood loss limit as she promptly fainted.
"Percy," my father sighed. The next four words were out of my mouth before I couldn't even think about trying to keep them in.
"I didn't do it," I burst out. They of course thought that was hilarious. I however was too busy enjoying the magical healing hands of Apollo, and when I told him so I got a quip and a witty one-liner flirt, before he went to help Luca.
What followed from there was a lot of democracy-light and immortal, and mortal, alike posturing. They offered me goddess-ship-ness, whatever you call it and I panicked, got them to do what they should have been doing anyway before trying to fade into the background. That only lasted until the subject of Luca was brought up. Despite the fact that she had sworn that in her dimension, reality, whatever, had fought against Kronos, she was still almost universally disliked on principle because of her connection to Luke.
Add that to the fact that I was restricted to bed rest for the next two days, at least, by cousin Apollo, led me to kidnapping her and taking her back to the mansion I had been given by my father a year ago for my birthday when monsters had burned down the apartment I shared with my mother. A woman who wouldn't know how to make someone feel unwanted if she wanted to.
"It's so nice to meet you Luca," she gushed, hugging the girl who looked somewhat more at ease, "I can't believe you're from another dimension. Everything must be so different. We'll get home and you girls can get fed, cleaned up and some sleep, and then you can tell me all about it." After mum ushered us to our ride home I saw the first smile had seen on that girls face, and she looked radiant.
"You look happy," I remarked as I watched her stare at my mother wistfully.
"It's nice to know that even though everything else is…" she paused trying to think of a right way to phrase it. I smiled.
"All kinds of fucked up?" I chimed, saving her the trouble.
"That," she said with a nod, "It's just nice to know that Aunt Sally still kicks ass. I've missed her." I wanted to ask why, but quickly decided that if she had died in that other world, I didn't want to know. It didn't do to dwell on what ifs.
When we got home mum's boyfriend Paul was waiting in the living room. He had been aware of the family secret for the past six months and looked relieved to see that I was still in one piece. On the outside that is. I smiled and laughed, playing the part of concurring hero. On the inside I was a shattered mess. I found myself leaning over a toilet in the bathroom connected to my room, hurling up the food I had mistakenly gorged myself on when I hadn't eaten in a week. My eyes watered, as wave after wave of nausea wracked me until it was finally over and I was sitting on the floor contemplating where I was going to get the strength to get my toothbrush. Stomach acid burning my throat.
I was sitting on the floor of the balcony when I finally cleaned myself up, looking out at the backyard blearily. My entire soul ached and a bottle of Bacardi clenched loosely in my fist. I took another large swallow and hoped that I could just pass out already.
"You talk a good game, but I think that I knew you weren't as okay as you pretended to be," a soft voice pulled me from my waking catatonia. Luca. Her hand snatched the bottle out of mine before I could protest and she took a large swig before handing it back.
"Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" I rasped, too tired and drunk to pretend that everything was fine.
"I could ask you the same thing," she replied passively. A haunted truth overtook me, and words that I wanted to keep locked up, that I never wanted to admit to anyone spilled out.
"I did terrible things, I shot a seven year old in the face," I whispered in a lost voice and squeezing my eyes shut, "I'm never going to sleep again." I expected disgust or revilement. Something that a crime of that magnitude deserved. Instead Luca just looked at me with dead eyes.
"It was war," she spoke softly, "If you hadn't they would have killed you."
"I know," I said bleakly, "Unfortunately the person standing next to me was the one that instilled that lesson in me." We spent the rest of the morning trading back and forth that bottle until finally, blissfully, we settled into alcohol-rendered unconsciousness. Not a single dream to plague and already guilty conscious.
Aww, poor girls. What did you think? Review and let me know. I was thinking about adding some Avengers in there. Not main storyline but just in passing. If you like that idea let me know.