A/N: Once again, another fiction prompted by music (I've got a lot in The Works)...specifically, Shinedown's Though the Ghost. Seriously. Go listen to that song; it's so Luke. I don't hate him. I didn't like him for the majority of the books—though I did feel terrible for him—but I believe he died a hero's death (hence the title). He tried to fix his mistakes. And I love him for that (though I S-O, so love Percy more).

Summary: character study - Luke Castellan / "I used to care." / small AnnabethxLuke / oneshot / first person

Please: Review. If you don't...I could turn, like Luke did, resentful at being overlooked. Don't—Let—This—Happen ;D

Disclaimer:
Rick Riordan:[scoff] As if this little girl could be as awesome as I am.
Me: Um...thanks, Rick...?
Rick Riordan: Mr. Riordan. Or...Lord Riordan. Yeah, yeah, I like that. Lord Riordan.
Me: Right...
Lord Riordan: So? Tell them.
Me: Oh. Uh. I don't own any of the amazing characters or books by Ri—Lord Riordan. That would just be wrong.
Lord Riordan: Yes, it would.
Me: You're pretty cocky.
Lord Riordan: When you're as awesome as I am, you get to be this cocky.
Me: ...

"All the bridges we built were burned.
Not a single lesson was learned.
Everything that mattered is just...
a city of dust."
~Through the Ghost, Shinedown

I wasn't always so cruel.

I used to care. About Olympus, the gods, my father, Thalia…Annabeth.

But they didn't reciprocate. Except for Thalia and Annabeth. They cared. We were a family. The three of us, staying alive in the outside world.

And then Thalia died. Her father turned her into a tree. A tree. He was Zeus! He couldn't magically heal her or send some form of help? He. Let. His. Daughter. Die.

I guess that's when the resentment started. My resentment of all the gods, not just Hermes.

It didn't register that it was Kronos speaking in my mind until it was too late. He spoke the truth, feeding off my anger, encouraging it like a fire. He promised revenge. He led me into thinking I was taking the right path.

On the outside, my personality never changed. I was Luke Castellan, Son of Hermes. I had a scar on my cheek. I was a good sword fighter.

But I was angry. All. The. Time. Sometimes…I would look in a mirror and not recognize myself. Kronos was corrupting my mind; I just didn't realize it. I began to think of him as a father figure, much more than Hermes ever was. Hermes didn't talk to me. Hermes didn't treat me like I was his son. I was overlooked. I might as well have been Unclaimed. Nothing would've been different.

Then Percy Jackson showed up. Son of Poseidon. The hero of the prophecy. Kronos needed him on our side. He wouldn't yield, though. Wouldn't betray the gods and Olympus. He didn't want to disappoint his father.

If only the scorpion poison had killed him. We didn't need a loose variable. But he survived. And my betrayal was outed. I was Enemy #1, not to be trusted.

Kronos wanted to enter another piece into the game, another pawn: Thalia. Another child of the Big Three. Another way to control the prophecy. Until she became a Hunter. She pledged herself to Artemis, immortal, and had sworn off boys.

I don't know if I ever thought about Thalia that way. I really don't. We were family. I only thought about Annabeth when I was dying and she was there. She said she loved me like a brother. I'm still not entirely sure how I had loved her. And now I'm dead. So it doesn't matter.

But I had gone to her, to Annabeth, before. Before Kronos used my body as his vessel. I wanted her to run with me. I was beginning to regret everything. Kronos wasn't good. I wasn't good. The gods weren't good. But what the world had was working. And Kronos would completely destroy that.

I didn't want to be a part of that anymore.

But it was too late; events were set in motion, Annabeth didn't trust me.

Everything was all screwed up.

I just wanted acknowledgement from my father. Maybe a little consideration from the gods; you know, have them pay attention to who they sire instead of sending them to stay in the Hermes Cabin, never knowing who they are.

Kronos used me. I was just another stupid pawn. But I knew how to end it all. Annabeth did, too. She called to me. Brought me back to do what I needed to. And I did.

Percy handed me the knife.

I killed myself, ridding myself of Kronos, ridding everyone of the Titan. I stopped the destruction of Olympus.

I. Did. It.

I was actually the hero of the prophecy…not Percy.

I was almost myself again.

Percy promised to change things. So that I wouldn't happen again.

I realized my father loved me. And that I did love him.

He's my father.

"'Meanwhile, my son Luke is dead. He died believing I didn't care about him. I will never forgive myself.'
[...]
'Luke loved you. At the end, he realized his fate. I think he realized why you couldn't help him.'"
~Hermes and Percy, The Last Olympian