So here you go. Redux of Luke's death scene...because it had sooooo much potential for this pairing. :D

I'm getting back on track here! And don't forget to drop me a line. You like the story? Tell me so!

For just a moment, Percy was without any sensation whatsoever. He floated there in the ether for Gods know how long, eardrums flattened by the blast and the space between his eyes and his eyelids glazed over with the afterglow. With a flash and a bang, the Lord of Time was gone.

Then Percy opened his eyes. He saw a shattered demigod.

Without a second of hesitation, he dropped to his knees. Luke Castellan lay spread-eagled in Kronos's ground zero, the marble circling him charred all to Hades like some horrid crown. No one would ever realize how appropriate that was.

Luke's eyes were back to that inescapable North Atlantic blue, and they looked wistfully up at the dome ceiling before stumbling across Percy. They fumbled, desperate, staring at the other demigod only long enough for Percy to register it before he looked away. His left side leaked blood into a dark pool on the marble. "That's a good blade."

Percy's body was numb. He watched a creek of blood wind its way down Luke's cheek. He watched Luke's fingers twitch toward him as if they couldn't help themselves, yearning for the touch. He watched Luke staring up at him and could feel his warm breath falter.

Time lurched forward as Annabeth and Grover approached, their arrival tearing Luke's eyes away.

Percy could feel again when Luke wasn't gazing up at him. He rocked back on his knees and wrapped his arms around himself. Percy felt cold, like he was the one bleeding out on the cruel stone and not Luke. More accurately, he felt like he'd been stabbed instead, a knife blade in his lung, his heart. He was sure for a moment that the floor of the throne room had just fallen out from underneath him and that he was tumbling through the sky without a parachute, speeding towards becoming a grim splattering on the ground. Percy's breathing shuddered in his chest.

Annabeth said something. "You always pushed yourself too hard." Percy heard the sadness, thick in her voice, and agreed. Luke pushed everything too hard—including everyone else, shunting them as far away as he could. The son of Poseidon's eyes smarted, prickly at the corners and melting shapes together in the middle.

Somehow, Luke found the strength to lift his fingers toward the sky. Annabeth cocooned them in her smaller hand, knowing he didn't have the energy to keep them up on his own. His eyes rested fondly on her for a moment before finally, in the halting and morose pace of a funeral march, dragging themselves back to Percy.

"Did you… Did you love me?" His throat closed. Luke's eyes were wet. He was crying. That alone gave Percy the distinct feeling that his heart just exploded, sickly and wretched, dripping everywhere, chunks scattered to the winds.

Annabeth, the beautiful girl Percy was always so sure he was in love with, didn't see. She herself looked at Percy, as if he could take more. She said yes to Luke, but only as her own flesh and blood.

Luke still stared up at the dark-haired demigod. Percy didn't think to take his eyes off this man, the one man who had been everything without Percy even realizing it. A mentor, a nemesis, a savior, a killer. And the single person in the world Percy could never have because he never thought he could.

It was too late, just too late. Years too late. Even just seconds too late. Every breath Luke took brought him closer to death.

Luke gazed.

And Percy, choking on bottled-up tears and realization, nodded to him.

Luke died.

Percy jerked awake. His forearms shook violently for almost a minute before he realized he was clenching his fists hard enough to break the skin of his palms. He released the starchy white sheet from his fingers, frowning down at the tiny crescents of crimson that stained it.

The vividness of his dream caught the demigod off guard. He literally replayed Luke's death in his mind daily—even more so with the arrival of Adam—but he had never remembered it with such detail. It was unsettling.

Unable to fall back to sleep, Percy tumbled out of his bunk, following the ripples of ethereal light on the walls to his fountain, still bubbling and happy. The gurgling soothed him slightly, the son of Poseidon dipping his hands in the cool water and closing his eyes.

Clicking horseshoes preceded Chiron on his way up to Percy's cabin. The clattering was ominous—it was as if now that Adam had arrived, the mentor would never bear good news again, just one bad thing after another. Percy didn't even need to look at Chiron to know he was feeling the same way, his shadow on the whitewashed wall forlorn, shoulders sagging. The centaur sighed.

"Is it him?" Percy asked, wondering at the fate of Luke's doppelganger. Adam seemed to be having some serious problems before he even got to camp. Maybe his friend—that Castiel guy—wasn't really a friend after all. Percy's stomach dropped at the thought.

A weight fell to the demigod's shoulder. He glanced over Chiron's huge hand. The look on Chiron's face was not promising. "I think you should probably see for yourself."

A pair of gilded doors slammed open, a menacing figure storming out from behind them. The storm of fury didn't seem to have any effect on the single other occupant of the room, who stood on the dark marble with inhuman stillness.

"HOW DARE YOU?" the angry man roared at the other, voice echoing in the clinically pristine dome. "HOW DARE YOU DO THIS?"

"Calm yourself, brother."

"STOP!" Hermes looked like he was ready to explode—literally. Bursts of light leaked from his mouth and eyes while his chest heaved in rage. "You are not my brother!"

Castiel stared back at him, eyes cold. "Yes, I am. Search your memories. Your position as messenger affords you an even more comprehensive memory than your…father." The angel almost snorted at the descriptor for Zeus. If only they knew.

Hermes still had the expression of a jilted man. "You do not have the right."

"To the contrary," the angel lilted, unconcerned with the atomic bomb of anger the god was bound to burst into at any second, "I have every right." His glance hinted at something, blue and definite.

The god stuttered, taken aback, eyes wide with fear. "N-no. It can't be. He isn't…"

Castiel looked very nearly sad for a moment, staring back at Hermes. "I'm sorry. If I could have stopped it, I would have. Things are getting out of hand."

"Not again!" Hermes cried, dropping his head into his hands. The bursting lights intensified, ripping at the edges of the god's human-sized form and slipping out. Castiel did not look away. "Not my son!"

The sight that reached Percy's eyes upon entrance to the infirmary was not a good one. Adam lay spread-eagled in a gruesome recreation of Percy's dream on a cot, face covered with a light sheen of sweat and stuck with the expression of a dying man.

Percy swallowed hard, getting rid of the thought of Luke. "What happened?"

"We're not quite sure yet," Chiron said, moving around the cot to stroke Adam's forehead with the gentle touch of a healer. "But I awoke hearing his screams. And now it seems that he won't wake."

The son of Poseidon couldn't seem to tear his eyes off of Adam's prone form. He sighed. "Why did you bring me?" It wasn't as if he needed more to be thinking about.

Chiron's gaze was serious and sad. "Because he called for you."

As if on cue, Adam's body started to twitch—only slightly at first. Then, like a sudden storm, his whole body started to convulse, arms and legs straightening as if they were tied down.

"NO!" Percy jumped into the air when Adam screamed, taken aback and rather frightened by the desperation in his tone. "PLEASE! MOM, HELP ME!" Adam's head heaved from side to side as if he was looking for someone. "DAD!" He cried the title like a last resort, his only hope. "HELP ME!"

When Percy thought Adam was finally done, a bloodcurdling shriek left the man's mouth. It was the cry of a man about to die—Percy had heard that enough times before to know it.

The look on Adam's unconscious face was too much for Percy to take. He stretched his fingers out in some sort of half-hashed out comforting gesture and touched Adam on the shoulder.

Percy noticed Chiron gaping at him in disbelief before he even realized that Adam had stopped screaming. The silence was almost as loud, especially with the all-knowing glance from his mentor. He almost didn't hear the sheets rustling.

Adam made a sleepy sound. He rubbed at his eyes, rolled his shoulders. And all Percy and Chiron could do was stare. The demigod watched the sheet over Adam slide down his torso, revealing intense knife scars.

The Winchester caught Percy's eye and had only begun to grin when the sleep and smile slid off of his face, all of the color there going with it. He was jammed looking at Percy, horror growing on his face. The hair on the back of the demigod's neck stood up. "Who am I?"

Chiron gave Percy a desperate glance across the cot. "Your name is Adam Winchester."

"I know. But which one am I?"

GAAAAAAASP.

Okay, my work here is done. Time for some Merlin slash! Tee hee. :D