CHAPTER THREE: DREAMS

Luke couldn't remember when was the last time he slept so peacefully. No nightmares came to haunt him and no dreams to tell him what he was missing. Just sleep. The act of resting and healing, the way it's supposed to be. He wasn't escaping from anything or anticipating for anything to happen the next day or having to sleep with one eye open with fear that someone might ambush him.

He woke up slowly, the pain was almost completely gone and he couldn't even see any more faces. He didn't open his eyes immediately, but just laid there with his eyes closed. He heard humming from the same female voice he's heard before. Calypso. She was still there and she hadn't done anything to him... at least not yet.

He had to admit, he found it extremely difficult to mistrust her. She just seemed so genuine and sincere, he had never met anyone quite like her before. He felt her gentle fingers brush hair off his forehead and a cloth brushed over his skin. The cloth was cold, but comfortably so. He could hear her singing and somehow, her music sunk into his system and melted all the pain away. Which only led him to question why he was there in the first place. He wasn't in Elysium and he wasn't reborn.

He knew who he was, he remembered everything and was it supposed to go like that? He didn't understand. He had so many questions.

He flexed his arms and shoulder around and he felt her hands leave him. He groaned as he found it difficult to sit up. He was still sore but not as much as before. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. He was in the same room as he was in when he first woke up. Calypso was sitting on a small wooden stool next to the bed, and beside her was a small table with a basin of cold water and a bowl of nectar with a silver spoon dwindling on the side. She was sitting with her hands on top of her lap and she was still in her white dress, or maybe she just had a closet full of them, with her hair still in the soft braid. She was still so beautiful and her eyes expressed nothing but concern, although she looked like she had been crying.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, forcing a smile.

"Yeah, which is kind of shocking," he said as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"More like relieving,"

"How so?"

"You didn't scream or yell or even mumble this time,"

"I... I did that?" he asked in disbelief.

"More than that, actually. To be honest, it was like you were being possessed," she said kindly, trying not to laugh as she rubbed her arms. It was only then that he noticed her arms. Apart from everything else about her, her arms would have been lovely if it wasn't covered in small bruises. They looked a few days old but they were still there.

"Did I... Did I d-,"

"It's fine," she said, cutting him off. "You were sleeping, it was nothing."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-,"

"I know. That's why it's fine." With that, she clapped her hands twice floating plates and bowls and other utensils started appearing out of nowhere, all filled with food. "You must be hungry. Eat, drink, regain your strength."

Luke didn't need to be told twice. He didn't even realize that he was starving until she made the food appear. He was still trying to figure her out, though. He didn't know anything about her except that she was a daughter of Atlas. He knew there were stories about her, only he couldn't exactly remember which ones. But he ate the food almost as soon as he was presented with it, she merely watched, like she was glad to just have company.

"How long have I been here?" he asked in between bites.

"Time is never truly determined here. I honestly don't know,"

"Is there anyone else here?"

"No. Only you and me," She grew a small blush with those words and he felt like he did too.

"How old are you?" She laughed, a constrained laugh, as though she was trying not to embarrass him with her laughter.

"Heroes. I didn't know they have lost their manners. Don't you know it's impolite to ask a girl her age?"

He managed a chuckle and a smirk, relieved to discover that the small distort of his facial muscles did not lead to any pain. "Touché ."

"To honestly answer that," - she started - "is impossible. I don't know how old I am. Time is-"

"Difficult here." He finished.

He ate in silence, fully aware that Calypso was still in the room. She was still as a statue; she didn't move... all but her eyes. Her eyes wandered all over the room. Without him knowing, she'd watch him eat and move about, watching for any sign of discomfort. Actually, she was watching for the sake of watching; memorizing him as best she could so that her memory of him would not falter nor would she need to resort to her imagination. He would remain instilled as he was in her head just as he was right then.

Her watchful eye didn't make him feel awkward for some reason. He was somewhat... relieved to know someone was there. She wasn't waiting for him to finish or making him do anything else, she was just there for the sake of being there. For him. He hadn't known such concern and company for what seemed like the longest time.

Back in the days of when Kronos controlled him, his days were filled with chaos, darkness and evil. Nothing filled his mind other than hate, death and spite. Being in Ogygia was something that felt strangely familiar and yet new to him all at the same time. Calypso's presence was something that felt both old and new, like a memory from a dream.

His had two servings of whatever it was that she had served him, it was some kind of stew, and he made a mess of himself. His body ached with every movement and his arm jerked out of the pain every now and then which caused his food to just spill all over himself. He felt like a child again. Only this time, there was someone attentive who was looking out for him.

Calypso didn't feed him nor did she offer to do so. She merely let him eat by himself, testing his strength and fighting the urge not to take the spoon from his hands and just pamper him for all he's worth. Instead, she waited until he was finished. The white linen on the bed and his white cotton shirt now had brown stains all over and water was splotched at strategic spots, making him look like a toddler who had just finished his first independent feeding.

He looked embarrassed and distraught at the mess he had caused and Calypso could only smile despite herself. He wanted to do something. Look away, hide somewhere and regain some of his remaining dignity; but, he was much too sore.

Calypso was nothing if not gentle. She removed the white sheets and blankets that he had soiled with the stew. She ducked and got some fresh new sheets and blankets from under the bed and tucked him in. If he ever felt babied by her care before, it was nothing compared to what she was doing now.

She smiled as she got a damp white cloth hanging beside his bed. She gingerly dabbed his face with the cloth, cleaning the mess that he made. His eyes were locked with hers. He couldn't look away. Her eyes sparkled like starlight and were a warm, rich hazelnut brown. The cloth was cool and he felt relaxed at every gentle stroke. She was humming while she worked and he could have sworn that he felt better with every note.

"So... what did you just feed me?" he asked, breaking the silence (on his part, at least).

"Hmm?" She was caught up in her song that it took a few moments for her to comprehend what he just said. "Oh. Beef stew. It's... kind of a specialty of mine."

"Are there any uh -" he grasped for a better word - "side effects?"

She chuckled. "No. It's just ordinary beef stew. Fresh from the hearth."

Silence filled the room once more, all but Calypso's soft humming. After a few minutes, Luke felt a lot better. He was well fed, well cared for and the after-burn sensation that had been causing him pain in ever crevice of his body had gone away. He was dirty though and it felt rather uncomfortable.

"Do you feel well enough to stand?" she asked.

"I think so." He tried propping himself up on his elbows. A little painful, but not unbearable.

She took his arm, put it around her shoulders and helped him stand up. He could stand and walk but he couldn't do so without wincing. He was better, though. He wasn't crying out in pain at every move. She led him to a small opening next to where he was laying. Inside was a giant opening filled with what looked like hot water. Her hands moved with dexterity. She was slowly removing his shirt from the back, all the while keeping him balanced. He looked at her as she worked and he saw that there was no malice in her eyes. Just sincerity and determination.

It took her a while, as though she was trying to make sure that whatever she did was to his comfort. He wanted to stop her, to tell her "no, it's fine. I can do it myself." But he didn't. He feared that he was becoming too accustomed to being pampered but it wasn't just that that had him still. He... liked it. He didn't know what he liked exactly, but he knew he liked it.

"Keep your bottoms on," she started. "Lay in the water for a while. It always helps. There's a towel and some dry clothes over there."

"What is that?" he asked, pointing at the opening on the floor.

"I believe you call it a hot tub."

His eyes widened. "A hot tub. In the middle of a phantom island. Okay."

He got in the so-called hot tub carefully. He found it extremely odd but he welcomed it. The water made him feel immensely well almost instantaneously. He allowed for his whole being to be entirely submerged in the warm water. He resurfaced with newly found strength. The hot water was amazing. His eyes were beginning to close, soaking in the wonderful feeling of warmth, when he realized that Calypso was walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"My garden. It needs attending to."

"What am I supposed to do now?"

"You're not supposed to do anything, my renewed one. Just rest and regain your strength until you're ready to leave."

"Is that why I'm soaking in magical waters?"

Calypso laughed. Her laughter filled the entire room. She was adorable when she laughed. "It's just hot water, Luke. Honestly, not everything that helps you requires divine intervention. Sometimes the simplest things are the ones that make everything better."

And with that, she left. Luke allowed his mind to wander, his body to float and his eyes to close. And for the second time since he was on her island, he was lulled into peaceful slumber. Dreams did not visit his mind, nor did any nightmares. Just peace. And it was a habit he'd gladly be accustomed to.

A/N:So guess who got around to working on this again. Bahaha. I've been really busy with uni and stuff so yeah. But I'll try to finish ASAP. Pfft. This chapter was soooo not my best. I'm rusty, sue me. I promise, it's gonna get reaaaal good after this. ;D