Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson
A/N: These next few fanfictions will probably be three to four chapters long, depending on how much material I have to work with/how much material I can come up with.
As the title implies, I'll be writing a series of unfortunate events (and just to be clear this has nothing to do with the actual series written by Lemony Snicket) that takes place throughout Luke's life from the day May decided to become the Oracle to the day that Luke sacrificed himself to save the world. The one you're currently reading is just going to be through Luke's childhood up until he gets to Camp Half-Blood.
Hope you enjoy!
Show me a hero, and I will write you a tragedy. ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald
άλφα—Alpha
We set the stage to the beginning of this woeful story in front of the porch of a big blue house, in the middle of an ironically peaceful summer. The breeze was warm and stirred the trees causing the leaves to shake in a symphony of greenery. The sun shone brightly and hotly on the four standing near the front of the big house.
And although today was a nice day the conversation going on between the three out of four was ominous and grave.
"It's an honor to have you here." Chiron, the centaur with short, dark brown, curly hair and beard said his tone anxious. "It's been a long time since a mortal was allowed at camp.
"Don't encourage her," Hermes—the Greek god of travelers, merchants, thieves and messengers, wearing a simple jogging suit and winged high-tops—complained. "May, you can't do this." he begged, looking at the third person standing on the porch. A woman, tall, blonde hair, and a smile that lit up her eyes. The baby—with glowing blue eyes and a shock of blond hair; our four on the porch and subconsciously taking everything in—in May's arms (our focus) squirmed in his blue blanket. May adjusted accordingly.
"Oh, don't worry so much," May answered Hermes, rocking the baby to calm him down. "You need an Oracle, don't you? The old one's been dead for, what, twenty years?"
"Longer," Chiron answered his tone darkening even more.
Hermes threw his arms up in exasperation, an almost desperate look in his eyes. "I didn't tell you the story so you could apply. It's dangerous. Chiron, tell her."
"It is," Chiron agreed. "For many years, I have forbidden anyone from trying. We don't know exactly what's happened. Humanity seems to have lost the ability to host the Oracle."
May smiled reassuringly at both Chiron and Hermes. "We've been through that," she stated. "And I know I can do it. Hermes, this is my chance to do something good." she coaxed. "I've been given the gift of sight for a reason."
Hermes's eyes stung with hurt and his lips turned down into a frown. "You couldn't marry if you became the Oracle. You couldn't see me anymore."
May shifted, holding the boy in one arm and resting her free hand on Hermes's arm. "I can't have you forever, can I? You'll move on soon. You're immortal." She threw a good point, on her part, at him. (For all you reading, a suggestion would be to stay mortal.) Hermes opened his mouth to object but May moved her hand from his arm to his chest. "You know it's true! Don't spare my feelings. Besides we have a wonderful child. I can still raise Luke if I'm the Oracle, right?"
May looked at Chiron expectantly.
He cleared his throat and coughed. "Yes, but in all fairness, I don't know how that will affect the spirit of the Oracle. A woman who has already borne a child—as far as I know, this has never been done before. If the spirit does not take—"
"It will," May insisted her eyebrows momentarily knitting together. But her face cleared as she made up her mind. With a deep breath, she kissed her baby on the forehead and handed him to Hermes. "I'll be right back." With a confident smile, she ascended the stairs into the big blue house.
Chiron and Hermes paced as another warm breeze blew through the valley. The baby in Hermes's arms squirmed and whined now and again like it knew something horrid was going to happen.
And happen it did.
The windows of the house lit with a neon green glow, visible in even the brightest light of the sun. An arctic, haunting wind blew through the camp making the campers stop what they were doing, that and the green light.
"No! No!" Hermes cried, shoving the now wailing baby into Chiron's arms and dashing up the stairs. But before he could even reach the door the find afternoon of this year's summer crumbled to dust as May Castellan's shriek cut through the air, engraining itself into the hearts and minds of those around to hear, including her son.
May reached down into her son's crib, cooing and smiling, her fractured eyes gazing down loving at her son. Her blonde hair had white streaks in it, and had become limp and stringy.
"My son," she said stroking his hair and covering him with his blanket again. "My boy. My sweet." She continued when suddenly her knees buckled. Instinctively she grabbed the side of the crib for support. Her eyes glowed green, the green that could be seen from the house on the fateful day she tried to become the Oracle, and her voice became deep and raspy. "My child!" she gasped."Not my child! Not his fate!" The baby's face scrunched up, his eyes shutting tightly and he opened his mouth letting out cries, tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He may not have known what was going on, but the feeling in the room was not pleasant."Not his fate! No! Hermes, help! Please help—Not my son!"
When the spell had passed, May's hand became slack and she fell to the floor of the nursery, completely out.
The baby continued to cry.
Year the First
"That's right, my son," May cried happily. "Come over to mommy."
With a smile, with the hint of his first baby tooth, and his beautiful blue eyes alight with excitement, Luke started his struggle to take a step toward his mother. His birthday had passed not only a week ago, and now he was almost walking. He took a small, wobbly step and then another and another.
May clapped happily. "That's right, Luke! Come over here! Come to mommy." she repeated.
Luke smiled even wider and laughed happily, seeing his mother smile. Half-way there, however, May fell to her knees, clutching at the wall. She blinked and her already fractured eyes illuminated in a neon green.
"No!" she rasped. "No! Not my baby!" She lunged toward Luke, missing by a few feet. Nonetheless, Luke shocked and terrified, sat down hard before breaking down into tears as him mother clawed at the carpeted floor of the hallways and cried out. "Must protect him! Must protect him! Not my son!"
Year the Second
Luke awoke to screams and cries coming from his mother's bedroom. His heart jumped in his chest and he crawled to the very corner of his crib, pulling his blanket and teddy bear with him.
He jumped and cowered behind his teddy bear when something slammed into his closed door.
"Luke!" May shrieked banging on the door again. Luke hid under his blankets, hugging his bear tightly to him, and sobbing. "My poor baby boy!" She slammed her fists against the door again.
Luke sobbed harder, hugging his bear so tightly the head would've popped off if it had been stuffed anymore.
Even after the banging had stopped, Luke continued to cry and sob and scream until he'd worn himself out so much that he finally drifted into a fitful night's sleep.
Year the Third
Luke is sitting in the living room, playing with a Medusa beanbag toy. Smiling and giggling, waiting for May to come out of the kitchen with his lunch. He'd just thrown the Medusa beanbag up into the air when there was noise in the kitchen.
May had dropped something.
Luke looked over to the door, letting the Medusa toy fall to the floor totally ignored.
He stood up and stumbled over the door.
"Mommy?" he called, his second word he'd learned since last year. No noise, from what Luke could tell came from the kitchen any longer. "Mommy?" he asked again, pushed the swinging door open.
"Luke!" May cried, her green eyes locking onto him.
With a gasp, Luke stumbled back, falling down before scrambling to his feet crying, "Daddy"—his first word learned—"help!" and waddling behind the couch to hide. The noises in the kitchen picked up as things were grabbed and thrown across the room or into a wall.
Tears spilled from three-year-old Luke's eyes as he kept repeating over and over in his head, Daddy, help.
Year the Fourth
"Mommy, when do I get to see Daddy?" Luke asked sitting at the kitchen table while his mother poured him a glass of Kool-Aid.
"You're father," May repeated a little dreamily. "You have his eyes you know." she told Luke turning to give him the glass of Kool-Aid. "He was the perfect man." She nodded. "The perfect man." She repeated.
"Mommy, what's wrong with your eyes?" he asked.
May's eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, my, well… it was a little after you were born, I'm sure. I'd always been special, able to see through the… whatchamicallit. The-the… the Mist! Yes the Mist. You know, sweetie, the stuff the covers mortals eyes from all the dangerous monsters."
"Mmm-hmm," Luke nodded.
May smiled. "And they offered me a super important job! That's how special I was!" She beamed. Then her smile faded, the corner's of her lips turning down into a frown. "But it didn't… didn't quite work out the way I thought. You're-you're father warned me not to do it, he did. But I felt it was my destiny! I had to! He didn't understand that part.
"And now… well now I just can't hardly get the images out of my head. It makes the world seem a bit funny. Would you like some more Kool-Aid, dear?" she asked.
Luke nodded a little warily. Something was obviously wrong with her. But what had happened so long ago? Was it monsters? Was her important job to slay a really terrible monster and it didn't work out? What about the strange images she saw? What were those? Did they have to do with Luke?
"Here you are—" May turned and broke off, the glass slipping out of her hand, shattering on impact with the linoleum floor of the kitchen.
"No!" Luke gasped scrambling off the stool and out of the kitchen before he had to see her glowing green eyes, before he had to hear her yell at him for doing something wrong that he didn't even know about. "Daddy, please!" Luke cried. "Help me!"
Year the Fifth
Luke's first day of Kindergarten should've been an exciting one. Instead it was one of dread. Luke wasn't scared of trying to make friends, or even scared that he'd fail all his classes because he couldn't read anything but Ancient Greek text. It was that when they arrived he saw all the kids with their Mommy's and Daddy's. He didn't want to walk into class with just his Mommy.
What would the other kids think? That he didn't have one? That he didn't want to be here to drop off his son on the very first day of the rest of his school life? Or worse, what if they asked about it him? What would Luke tell them? Certainly not that Luke's father was a Greek god. What about on Fathers' Day, or Career Week?
His own father didn't even care about him enough to walk him to class on his first day of school?
Daddy,where are you? Luke asked as he reluctantly took May's hand and together they walked to his meet his new teacher.
Year the Sixth
"You all know what tomorrow is, right children?" Ms. Miller asked the classroom.
"Yes!" all the students cheered with big smiles and bright eyes, well all except for one: Luke.
"And what's that?" the teacher asked, holding her hand to her ear.
"Fathers' Day!" they yelled.
"Correct! So, we're going to do something extra special just for them! Get out your crayons, and markers, and paints so we can start."
The kids started chatting excitedly about the project, getting out their supplies. The teacher walked around handing out a folded piece of paper that had Happy Fathers' Day printed on the front in a fancy cursive.
Ms. Miller clapped to get their attention again.
"Now, I want you to color is as much as you want with whatever you want. But make it nice for your father, and don't forget to write a little note to him and sign the card too." she explained. "Okay, begin!"
Luke stared at his card as tears filled his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away when Ms. Miller came over to his desk.
"Luke, are you going to make it nice and colorful for your dad?" she asked, kneeling next to him.
Luke shook his head. "I never see my dad." he told her. "He hasn't shown up for any of my birthdays and he didn't drop me off on my first day of school."
"Oh, sweetie, he's probably just very busy. Your mom told me that he was busy delivering packages to people all around the world constantly." she explained. When Luke still didn't start she switched tactics. "How about this? Make him the card and then send it to him. I'm sure he'll be very happy to get a card from his son."
Luke looked at the card uncertainly the gears in his head turning. Maybe that would work. He was the god of messengers after all, right? Why was there a reason he shouldn't get the card?
"Okay." Luke said quickly getting out his markers, knowing just the design he was going to do for his dad.
"I'm sure he'd be so proud of you right now." Ms. Miller said standing and walking around to see if anyone else needed help or had any questions.
At the end of the day Luke wrote Hermes's name on the card and put it into the mailbox, putting the flag up, like he'd seen other mailmen do when they delivered their mail, hoping that his dad would get it.
The next morning before going to school, Luke ran out to check the mailbox. His card was still in there, untouched. With a surge of anger Luke ripped it out of the mailbox, crumpled it up, and threw it out into the street.
Year the Seventh
"Here's your favorite, PB and J." May said setting a plate down in front of Luke who lifted it up eagerly and took a big bite. May ruffled his blond hair. "That's my boy. My growing boy." Humming she turned back to the cutting board and started making yet another sandwich. Without warning she turned and grabbed Luke's shoulders roughly, shaking him.
"My son!" she rasped. Luke gasped and tried to wriggle free from his mother's grasp, but her bony fingers were firm—like iron vices—and kept him where he was. "Save him! Save him from his fate! Not his fate!"
With a cry Luke wrenched himself from her grasp and dashed for the stairs closing the door to his room and sitting against, curled into a ball, sobs racking his body.
"Daddy, please help me. Please help me, Daddy." he cried over and over again. "Please save me, Daddy. I'm so scared."
Year the Eighth
"Luke," Mr. Dakota called. "Would you like to come up with your parents now?" he asked.
Luke shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "They're not here." he mumbled, looking down at his desk.
"I'm sorry, you'll have to say that again." the teacher requested.
"They're not here." Luke repeated a little louder, but still not loud enough to hear.
"Luke, I'm sorry, but I just can't hear you." he said again.
"Luke doesn't have any parents!" a kid yelled. The whole class broke out into laughter. The parents that were here rushed over to their kids to scold them for making fun of him and the teacher tried in vain to get their attention.
With tears welling up in his eyes and spilling down his cheeks, Luke booked it out of the classroom, leaving all his things still there, and ran all the way home, not stopping for anything or anybody.
He slammed the door when he got in. May poked her head around the corner.
"My boy? Is that you?" she asked.
"I hate you!" he screamed at her. "I hate you. I hate my dad! I hate this house! I don't want to live here anymore!" And with those words Luke ran upstairs and into his bedroom.
May followed and bagged on his door, but Luke had closed it and barricaded it.
"My boy! Don't leave! I'm sorry. Please, don't go." May cried.
"Go away! I don't want to talk to you!" Luke yelled, hugging his teddy bear.
"Luke, please stay. You're safer here. You'll be safe here. Please…."
Year the Ninth
He was going to run away. He finally decided. He was going to run away. He didn't care if monsters would attack him. He didn't care if it was dangerous at all. He needed to get out of this place. It wasn't a house or a home anymore. It'd become a house of terrors and nightmares.
"Luke, where are you going? Today isn't school, is it?" May asked startling Luke who had the front door open.
"N-no." he answered truthfully. "It's not school."
"Then why are you leaving, my dear boy?" May asked taking a few steps toward him.
"B-b-because… because it'll be safer for you if I was gone for a little while. The… the monsters won't want to attack the house anymore. Won't want to attack you anymore. You'll… you'll be safer without me here." Luke quickly thought.
"But… no, Luke. You can't leave, not now. Lunch will be ready any minute." May pleaded.
"I promise," Luke blurted. "I promise I'll be back for lunch." Before May could say anything else Luke sprinted out of the house and down the sidewalk, never to look back again.
So… tell me what you think! Again, I hope you enjoyed!
.happiness.
~ See you at Camp Half-Blood!