a/n: PS. This is set before the epic battle happens and everything; this is when Luke is still hunting for Percy.
UPDATE: This story has been graciously translated by the wonderful Nuit-san into Italian here: http :/ www . efpfanfic. net / ? sid=838933&i=1 If you speak Italian, do visit. c:

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Luke was sitting by himself, in some place that he didn't know where: he had people for that now. Being evil did have its' perks, he'll admit.

And now, with his back against the wall and his knees up to his chest and his arms curled up between his legs and chest, Luke thinks about Percy.

Though, with that damn kid being the prophetic savior of awesomeness (or something to that extent, he was sure), there wasn't really ever a time that Luke didn't think about Percy. But this time was just a tiny bit different.

Now, he thinks that maybe Percy isn't the epitome of everything Luke's against; maybe he isn't everything Luke has worked to bring down.

Maybe, Luke thinks, it's like staring at Percy through glass. Or, more fittingly, water. It was the same concept either way, really.

He'll look at him, stare at him, for so long that he thinks he's seeing Percy crystal-clear. Seeing everything; what he does, why he does it, what he thinks, why he thinks it…

But really, Luke reflects, pulling his arms in tighter to his chest, he's seeing something that's like a distorted picture of Percy. A… copy. A fake.

Because real Percy, were Luke to look at him through water, is about two inches over, fooling him and the rest of the world with assured movements and easy thoughts, that really aren't even happening.

Real Percy is moving a little bit faster, and Luke doesn't know this, but real Percy is a little blurred around the edges, further confusing his enemies.

And Luke would bet high to say that even Percy hasn't made this discovery yet.

Luke could take this information he has now; the information of how Percy is sidestepping the inevitable fight; and completely destroy him and everything he stands for. All his good, all his saving-the-world-with-one-hand-behind-my-back, would come crashing down around his feet, and there wouldn't even be a hope of him piecing the mess back together. It would be completely and totally over, this whole thing. Olympus would fall from it's perch in the sky, Camp Half Blood would very nearly disintegrate with all the evil running amiss, and the world would be Luke's.

Of course, there's always another option.

Luke could pretend that he'd never unintentionally stumbled upon this tragic, shattering realization. He could merely take the thought, tuck it in the back of his head, and continue on like nothing ever even happened. That way, Percy could maybe realize the same thing and use it, bringing Luke's world down in flames. Bringing evil down; or, more appropriately, back down. Put evil on a shorter leash, keep an eye on it.

Oh, heard that, did you? Heard that Luke has finally taken his head out of his ass and realized that not everything he thinks is sturdy? Well, he has. He's finally come to the conclusion that the good side is the one that should win, were anyone to use their heads about this.

But like hell he'll tell anyone this. He'll keep fighting for his team no matter what, and he'll try to keep his head in the game. He won't play as dirty now, so maybe the good side will pull ahead in this race.

Either way, Luke thinks, standing and dusting imaginary dust from his clothes, it won't matter right now. He'll just keep this tiny epiphany to himself, and maybe learn a thing or two from the Savior Of The World As We Know It.

As Luke barks an order to the gross monster outside the door, he thinks one thought, and then never thinks of this event ever, ever again.

'Good luck, Percy.'