**So, I put up a PJO one-shot, which got a lot of hits, so I was suddenly inspired to finish this thing that's been sitting in my documents for several days, untouched. However, all those hits mean little without your REVIEWS. Please, please, please reiview. I mean, c'mon. On my one-shot, I got 356 hits in about four hours, yet only 12 reviews. So if you look at this chapter, please review. Please, please, please review. I don't own anything in this story except for Delilah Krassi and Austin Fyto, plus all the stupid extras I threw in.**
Chiron's hoof rapped sharply on the marble floor, bringing the quarrel to a standstill. Eight head counselors fell silent as the centaur's wise gaze fell on the boy at the end of the table. "Well?" He asked, "What do you say to something like this? It won't be easy, I warn you."
"You don't have to go, Luke," one of the girls on the left-hand side of the table added. Her brown eyes shone with worry. "Please don't."
The room was once again filled with voices as the other demigods made their opinions heard.
"Don't go! It's not safe!"
"I'll go if you won't."
"You can't exactly refuse a quest from your dad."
"This is the chance of a lifetime! Take it."
"Luke, this is not a decision to be made lightly." It was Emma, the head counselor for the Hermes cabin, who spoke now. "If you took this and came back alive, you would bring our cabin much glory. The Hermes cabin might be considered more than just a mishmash of unclaimed campers. You'd please your dad. But if you failed, well… There are many people at this camp who look up to you. If you died on that quest, few others would dare go on one afterward." She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him with her dark green eyes. She seemed to be daring him; but that was what Emma did best.
Luke gritted his teeth. Trust her to bring the most major points up in this argument.
"Luke we don't have all day." Chiron told him, gently but firmly. "This is a decision that must be made soon. Hermes will not wait forever."
The blond 17-year-old nodded. "I know." He didn't want to do anything for his father, and yet, the prospect of glory was hard to deny. Luke had only met Hermes once, and the bitter memory was still firmly planted in his mind.
"C'mon, Thalia," Luke protested. "It's not nothing. We need to get that checked out."
The slightly younger, dark-haired girl grimaced and wrapped her hands more tightly around her upper thigh. The oversized jeans she was wearing had been slashed, and the torn edges of the rip were dark with blood. More oozed out sluggishly from the gash on Thalia's leg. "I'll be fine," she replied, but it was clear to Luke how much she was hurting.
"Please, Thalia?" Little Annabeth pleaded. Her gray eyes were wide, and she gripped Thalia's arm so hard her knuckles were white. Small tears slid down her face, cutting trails through the grime. "Don't die."
"I won't," Thalia promised. "Let's just… Keep going."
"Not until you let me look at your leg," Luke said sternly. "And then, we can keep going."
"It's fine, really-"
"No." Pulling his knife out of the sheath at his side, Luke stepped forward. He pulled up the ripped fabric and cut some of it away, leaving a hole about as big as a dinner plate in the jeans. He sucked in a breath, surveying the cut with surprise. "Thalia, this isn't nothing." He repeated. The cut was about four inches long, oozing blood and pus, and the skin around it was inflamed and faintly green.
"It'll be fine," she tried again, determination flickering like lightning in her bright blue eyes.
"No." Luke shook his head. "Come on, we're taking you to get treatment."
"Where?"
Luke's thoughts darkened. "My mom's house."
"Are you sure this is okay with her?" Thalia asked, leaning against the side of the house. Her face was pale, and she was shaking.
"We don't have a choice," Luke replied grimly. He was hesitant about bringing them into his former home, but Thalia didn't have much time left.
"I'll knock!" Annabeth piped up brightly; of them all, she seemed the most optimistic about the whole thing. Perhaps it was because she knew the least about Luke's mother. The little blond girl stepped forward and raised a hand. Luke cringed as the hollow knocking echoed through his head.
The door was flung open to reveal a very frazzled-looking woman. Her hair was streaked with gray and looked like it had been rubbed all over with a large balloon. Her eyes were wandering, and she wore messy, dirty clothing. The room behind her was dark. Luke, though he would never admit it, was scared. Scared of this house, the woman who owned it… All the memories scared him. "Luke!" She screamed, running forward and throwing her arms around him in a hug that smelled of musty peanut butter. "I have your lunch ready!"
"That's nice," Luke disentangled himself from his mother's clutches and offered a hand to Thalia. "Come on," he told her. "if we hurry, this won't take long."
"That woman scares me," Annabeth whispered.
"It'll be okay, Annabeth. Don't be scared," Thalia replied, though her voice faltered.
Half carrying her, Luke pulled Thalia, Annabeth in tow, through the candle-filled room. Every way he looked, he saw himself in yet another mirror- Stressed, dirty, tired. He looked like a typical street thug. No wonder people chased him out of their shops. The next room was the kitchen. Stacked high on every counter and available surface teetered stacks of pb and j sandwiches, along with countless trays of burnt lumps that had been chocolate chip cookies earlier on.
Thalia collapsed in a chair, grimacing in pain, as Luke pulled the first-aid kit out of its spot above the fridge and began to treat Thalia's wound. "Annabeth," he said quietly, "can you talk to my mom and keep her busy for me?"
The perky little seven-year-old readily agreed. When the sound of footsteps on the tile floor alerted them to May Castellan's reappearance, Annabeth jumped up and ran over right away "Hi!" She peeped, "I'm Annabeth. Who are you?"
The woman smiled dreamily at Annabeth. "I'm Luke's mother. Oh, where is Luke?" She began to wander towards them.
"Uh… Luke isn't here right now!" Annabeth piped up. She wandered up and tugged on the skirt of May's dress, playing the part of innocent little girl perfectly. "I'm hungry. Can I have a sammich?"
"Sure, honey." Luke's mother got a forgetful look in her eyes, "but I can't, not right now. I was… looking for something, wasn't I? Oh, yes, I was looking for Luke. Luke, where are you?"
Meanwhile, Luke had finally tied off the bandage. Thalia stood experimentally, "I'm good. Let's go."
"C'mon, Annabeth." Luke grabbed her hand and pulled the two girls towards the door.
Behind them, there was a flash of light. Oh, no… Luke thought, she's going to have one of her fits again.
But the next thing his mother said was in her normal voice. She squealed, "Hermes! You're here!"
"Hermes?" Luke stopped dead and spun around. Thalia nearly fell over and Annabeth screamed as the force of Luke's revolution carried her off the ground, like one of those carnival rides. In the kitchen, a man stood next to May Castellan. He had salt-and-pepper hair, an upturned nose and wore a business suit. "You're… Hermes?"
"Oh, Luke, this is your father!" May began to chat away excitedly like a little girl, but Luke was staring at the man across the kitchen.
"Yes, Luke." Hermes nodded.
"But… Then…" Luke sighed. "Whatever. C'mon, guys. We have to leave."
There was a terrible hissing noise from behind them. The kitchen flashed with green light. Luke felt himself cringe. He knew what was going to happen. When he turned back around to face the kitchen again, Annabeth screamed, "Green!"
Luke's mother had collapsed into a chair. Her eyes were glowing green and she was hissing words that were so mangled, Luke couldn't understand them. "Oh, gods…" Thalia murmured, "what's going on?"
Annabeth screamed and dove behind Luke, shivering. All he could do was rub her head softly and wait.
Amidst May Castellan's screams of, "My son! My son! Save my son!" Hermes stood by with a very sad look in his eyes.
"Yes, it is sad, isn't it?" He whispered, holding her hand gently and seeming to understand every word of her fit. "But we cannot change his fate."
"Whose? Mine?" Luke asked, without thinking. To his surprise, Hermes nodded at him, with that same sadness in his eyes. "Tell me!"
Hermes shook his head. "I cannot," he replied solemnly.
"You have to!" Luke yelled. "You said you knew it; now you have to tell me!"
"But I can't," Hermes repeated.
May Castellan shrank out of her fit. Her eyes turned bright again, and she stood back up. "Luke…" She crooned, "come and get your lunch."
"Tell me my fate!" Luke shrieked.
"No, Luke."
"Luke, have some cookies…"
Luke covered his ears and whipped around, running out of the house as fast as he could. He had to get away from them.
Outside, he stopped, panting. Thalia hobbled up beside him. "What's wrong?" She asked.
Luke gritted his teeth. "I hate them," he growled, "both of them."
"But they're your parents!"
"I don't care." Luke had spent his whole life tortured by that woman. Now, his father finally showed up and refused to do anything about it. He didn't even tell Luke his fate! "I hate them."
"Calm down, okay?" Thalia asked. "Let's just keep going." She began to hobble forward, Annabeth holding her hand.
Luke spared one last glance back at the sweet little house. Then and there, he swore his revenge.
**I apologize for the possibly forced ending and that this chapter was mostly flashback. I didn't expect the flashback to take so long, but since it did, let's just make the best of it, shall we? Now, click that little review button right down there and make me happy!**