[ CHAPTER FOUR - IN HELPLESS AGONY BEFORE THE OPPRESSOR? ]

[ August, 2003 ]

Luke was gone longer than he should have been.

Life at camp had gone on mostly the same without him there, though nights in the Hermes cabin were tainted with a constant undercurrent of agitation. There was a calendar on the wall, near the front of the cabin, and a sticky note next to it tracking the amount of days he'd been gone.

No one talked about him. Alistair had asked after him, once, but the strained answer he'd gotten in response had been more than enough to dissuade him from asking again. Instead, Alistair had taken the time to meet more people and practice new-ish skills (turns out Atticus was a better archery teacher than almost all the Apollo kids, except Rama the cabin counselor.)

And yet, for every fun activity Alistair did with the Hermes cabin, every game of capture the flag, every nightly campfire, there was a constant looming anxiety. It left Alistair feeling empty and carved out, even as celebrations at winning capture the flag made something fill that empty space to the point where it was overflowing and Alistair couldn't quite catch his breath and — and it all came crashing down. Every time they went back to their cabin and had to step past the single empty bunk—the single empty bunk in a room full of people stuck sleeping on the floor and in corners and wherever they could shove themselves—the Hermes cabin stuttered into helpless silence.

Every time someone added to the tally of days Luke had been gone, the Hermes Cabin shrunk a little smaller, heads bowed and whispers quiet, in their cabin and at the dining pavilion each night. With every day that passed it grew more and more unlikely he'd come back, and they knew it. Two weeks in without any sign or message and Mary Anne reluctantly suggested making a funeral shroud. Three weeks in and it was complete, tucked away in the back corner of their cabin. Four weeks in and people stopped looking towards the border.

Four weeks, three days, and nine hours after Luke left, he came back.

He came back with a not-yet-scarred gash across the entire right side of his face, his skin puffy and bruised red and purple, a claw gripped tightly in one hand and not an apple in sight. He came back with one eye half-swollen shut and the other full of flinty rage. He came back and flinched when Mary Anne hugged him. He came back and refused to tell anyone what happened on his quest, other than that he hadn't—he couldn't—he failed.

"He came back," Javier said, numb with relief and worry and something else Alistair couldn't quite pick out.

"He's alive," someone whispered that night in their cabin. It echoed like a prayer, the man in question with Mary Anne in the infirmary, and no one said anything to quiet it. "Luke's alive," they repeated, incredulous and relieved all at once.

The next day, they got up, got dressed, went to breakfast, and didn't talk about it. When an Ares kid came up mocking Luke's failure, the Hermes' kids didn't answer —at least, didn't answer except to fill his bed with worms and spiders— and walked away. When Luke got cornered by a worried Annabeth, the Hermes kids huddled up around Luke and pestered him to run the lava wall with them, or spar or teach or do anything that didn't make his face pinch with something like self-hatred. When overeager Apollo kids harassed him about his wound as it slowly scarred, the Hermes kids threatened to give them one to match until no one else talked about it either.

Luke wasn't ready to talk about it, after all.

And when the Hermes cabin was alone again, they sat nearby and asked open-ended questions just in case he wanted to share, and changed the topic when it was clear he didn't. They were patient as Luke took a few days off from camp activities, holed up in the Big House with Chiron, Mr. D, and Mary Anne, doing whatever it was they needed to do. Even if no one ever seemed happy after those meetings, none of the Hermes cabin was dumb enough to ask why.

It was without much choice —and really, Alistair isn't sure he'd've done anything differently— that life went on. Alistair kept on going to different activities, visiting the dryads and nymphs and satyrs, making friends as best he could, generally keeping his head low. It wasn't hard. His friends, Zeke especially, weren't fans of going off partying on the few chances that arose—though Jacob disappeared once or twice, coming back buzzing with warmth and smelling of smoke—and they tended to spend their free time at the beach, or near the strawberry fields, or helping Lily learn her magic and teaching Alistair ASL.

"This is so much fun," Alistair admitted one afternoon, legs dangling off the top of the lava wall, heels bouncing off of the hard stone as he kicked his feet.

"Does it feel like home yet?" Jacob asked. He was sprawled on his back, sweat dripping from his forehead as the two demigods took a breather after scaling the wall. Whenever they climbed the wall as a cabin, Mary Anne was there to scold people for hanging at the top for too long, but Jayla and the Ares cabin never cared.

"I dunno," Alistair played with the fabric of his pants, looking away from the son of Hermes. "It's just… my dad, both of them, they don't—" he trailed off, gnawing at his bottom lip.

"They don't…?"

"They both hate the camps," Alistair lifted up his foot to play with the shoelaces, studiously ignoring the way Javier propped himself up on his elbows. "Like, they really hate the camps. Dad does his best to encourage me, and I know he's gonna be happy I made friends… but they always talk about how dangerous it is and how more demigods get hurt at the camps as they should."

"You don't feel like you should feel at home," Jacob supplied.

"Yeah, I guess. I just…" Alistair nervously tracked the nearby spar between two Ares children, "Yeah. I don't feel like I should want to belong here. But it's so nice here, and everyone here is so awesome, and I don't know what I'd do without Mary Anne or Nikolai or Rama or any of you guys. And dad and Attie would really like you all too. Attie especially, he's like, obsessive over keeping demigods safe."

"You've mentioned that before, what do your dads do?" Jacob prodded, hauling himself up so he could sit next to Alistair, as comfortably close as he could.

"Uh, Attie… Atticus doesn't… I don't know if he has a real job. He does a lot of odd jobs for his dad and the Erotes, but he never really looks happy doing that. Mostly he disappears for a few weeks to go rescue people or help kill monsters, like we're training to. He's also organizing or managing something, but he and dad try really hard not to tell me exactly what it is," Alistair readjusted to resume kicking his feet, quieting as one of the Ares kids reached the top of the lava wall with a loud ring of the bell, the demigoddess quickly dropping back down to the ground to scale it again.

"And what's he organizing?" Jacob teased.

"Some sort of program to help demigods get jobs and live in safe places with other demigods. I don't really get it, but I think the goal is to make it so Camp isn't the only place demigods'll be safe," Alistair explained. "Dad helps with that too, but he's a fencing instructor and he's working towards a teaching degree, so he's usually pretty busy."

"Your dad's a fencing instructor? That's cool as hell. Shit— I mean, fuck. That's super cool, don't tell Mary Anne," Jacob grinned as he got Alistair to laugh. "Atticus sounds like a great guy too. You think I can meet them some time?"

"Of course!" Alistair agreed immediately. "I mean, if you asked, dad would probably adopt you."

"Oh, I don't want that," Jacob laughed. "Hey, who's your dad's godly parent again?"

"Mer— uh, Hermes. He's a son of Hermes," Alistair stammered. "Thanks, um, thanks for making me feel better, I have to— uh. Look! There's Zeke and Javier, we should—"

"Alistair, hey!" Jacob said forcefully, pausing at Alistair's wide-eyed stare. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. Summer's over in a few days, we can at least meet your parents then, how about that?"

"Yeah. Yeah that sounds good," Alistair agreed immediately. "I kind of doubt they'll both be here. Actually I don't know who's coming to pick me up, but yeah. You can meet them."

"Alright," Jacob looked thoughtfully at Alistair as the younger demigod stared pointedly off towards the sparring Ares kids. "Come on, let's go see Zeke and Javi."

…

Diomedes was the one to pick Alistair up at the end of summer, loitering anxiously outside his car as he studiously avoided going any closer to the brilliant barrier. Alistair waved wildly at his dad from the other side, duffel slung over his shoulder as he tugged on Lily's hand.

"Come on, you'll really like my dad," Alistair insisted, signing sloppily to Lily as he spoke. Javier and Jacob followed behind them, grinning at their younger friend's excitement. "It sucks Zeke left yesterday, I really wanted to introduce him too," Alistair babbled, stumbling over a rock and glaring at Mary Anne as she laughed from her spot by Thalia's Pine.

"Dad!" Alistair shouted once they were close enough, dropping Lily's hand to throw himself at Diomedes, making the older demigod stumble back.

"Hey, kiddo, good to see you again," Diomedes squeezed Alistair until he was laughing and begging for air. "Did you have a fun time at Camp?"

"It was great!" Alistair babbled, bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning wildly at his father. "I had a ton of fun, and look at all the friends I made! This is Lily, Jacob, and Javier, Lily's a daughter of Hecate, and Jacob and Javi are sons of Hermes."

"Nice to meet you all," Diomedes greeted, tugging Alistair close in another hug. The son of Zagreus still managed to fumble through the signs to mostly translate for Lily.

"Nice to meet you," Lily signed back first, Javier echoing her aloud.

"Ah, sorry," Diomedes signed slowly along with his words, clearly unpracticed with the motions. "I'm glad you enjoyed camp, Ali. Any favorites?"

"Archery was a lot of fun," Alistair said cheerfully. "I really liked the lava rock wall, too! And Mr. D is funny."

"Lava rock wall," Diomedes echoed quietly, laughing to himself. The horn for lunch sounded, echoing up the hill. "Yeah, I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"That's lunch," Alistair complained. He turned back to his friends, hugging them tightly and bidding goodbye.

"Can you go ahead and put your stuff in the back?" Diomedes asked. Alistair dashed off, leaving Diomedes with the other young demigods.

"I hear you're our half-brother," Jacob stated, staying behind while Javier hoisted Lily onto his back, running down the hill towards lunch. Jacob was getting a ride with Argus and a few of the other campers to the airport to head back home for the school year.

"Something like that," Diomedes agreed. "It's good to see some younger siblings doing well."

"It's good to see an older sibling existing at all," Jacob countered drily.

"You'd be surprised at the number of us," Diomedes said, eyes pinned intently on Jacob. "I'm serious, little brother. You're what, fifteen? Sixteen, maybe?"

"Sixteen," Jacob slipped his hands into his pockets, fiddling with the loose coins and papers there.

"If you want help once—if you leave camp, give me a call, there's more of us than you might think," Diomedes rested his hand gently on Jacob's shoulder, forcing the younger son of Hermes to meet his eye. "Got it? Ask if you need help."

"Can—can I pass that offer on to our other siblings?"

"Pass it on to anyone who might need it. If I don't answer, you can ask Atticus, or get Alistair to get in contact with us. You're not alone, Jacob. Not even after your time here runs out," Diomedes clapped Jacob's shoulder, waiting for an acknowledgement before stepping into the driver's side of the car, checking with Alistair that he was ready to go. They were on their way home again.

…