Luke
Nothing. Nothing is something big, something more massive than you think it is. Nothing is the biggest favor anyone can ask you to do – when they want you to keep a secret, they tell you to do Nothing, literally, and you feel like you're going to bust because you're desperate to share it with someone.
Nothing is greater than Gods themselves, it is worse than Demons. Often, when you do something good, a donation, and you ask Nothing in return. People would give you thumbs-up, just because you asked for Nothing.
It is humongous, other than the things that occupy space, the rest is all Nothing. Space, air, they are all 'Nothing'.
This is what Luke got – Nothing. When he had asked Kronos what he would get in return for all the things he had done for him, the only answer was silence. It was then followed by Kronos' famous cold, raspy, laugh. Luke hadn't understood then, but when he had taken his last breath in Olympus, he understood what it was all about.
The silence was Nothing. That's what Luke got in return.
How could he have been so dumb? He could've refused, he could've discussed it with someone, he could've asked for help, he could've used any other way to take his revenge on the Gods.
But he had chosen this – and now he saw the result of it all.
The blond haired, blue-eyed boy's slim body leaned against the wooden doorframe of Cabin 11, a cabin that was always too full. Perseus Jackson, or rather Percy, had just been welcomed to Camp Half-Blood formally, and he had just given him some new toothbrush and showed him his place in the overly crowded cabin.
Percy seemed nice, but he knew well enough not to get too attached to him; there were more important things to be done.
Luke lowered his head in shame as he thought about all the things he had done in his life, and the memory that came to him just now was the very beginning of it all. He wished he could shout at his nineteen-year-old self to clear his mind. But what was done is done.
He sat on the edge of Elysium, watching over the activities going around in the beautiful place. Yes, he had landed in Elysium, to his great surprise and relief.
Even though he had prepared himself again and again before he had died for the pain that he was so sure he would have to endure in the Fields of Punishment, a small part of him still wished that he would go to Elysium instead. And here he was, after being congratulated for being a Hero, saving the World; he had been kindly escorted to the doors of Elysium, what luck!
He ran, his breath came short, his lungs screamed for air, but he kept on moving. He didn't look back; he wanted to throw everything behind – he wanted to start all over again.
He was only nine years old then, but his head was clearer than ever. He knew that he would go crazy, just like his mother, if he stayed in that place any longer.
May Castellan just had another one of her fits. Her mental problems were brought by Hades, just because she had tried to become the Oracle, had let her become like this. Luke cursed, he cursed the Fates, he cursed his mother, but most of all he cursed his father and the gods.
How could they? How could he? Hermes was his father, for Gods' sake! Had he ever come to visit, or comfort him and his mother before, even when she was having the worst of all her fits?
No, the god hadn't.
Luke shuddered to think about the green mist coming out of his mother's mouth, her eyes rolling back, saying yet another one of her stupid, crazy prophesies.
He had wandered around in the streets for five years, just managing to stay alive. After all, he was the son of the God of Thieves – Hermes – right?
Those were the loneliest, saddest days of his life – memories that he could never forget.
A lone tear traced down the side of his cheek, and he used his fingertip to wipe it off.
His mother, how was she? He shook his head; the last words he had spoken to her rang in his mind. They were words of anger, words of hate, yet his mother had loved him, wanted him to go back to her. He had refused, and laughed his cold laugh.
She was having one of her fits then, so there was no sadness in her eyes. The fear, confusion, pain and loneliness had scared him, but he had, once again, chosen to ignore them. Though Luke knew. He knew that when his mother came to her senses, how sad, how miserable she would become. He couldn't bear to let himself think about the reactions his mother would have had.
Then, he found them. Two girls that saved his soul, saved him from finally collapsing onto the streets. Two girls that kept him company. Two girls that showed him what love was all about, how it felt to be cared about, to be loved again.
He was fourteen when he first saw Thalia Grace and Annabeth Chase. It was love at first sight for Thalia, and he had loved Annabeth like a little sister.
"You promise, don't you Luke?" Annabeth's soft and childlike voice echoed in his mind, "You promise this would be a good family, and that we'll never go back to Mom and Dad, right? We're going to be a perfect family."
Luke still remembered the face Annabeth had when he had nodded in response. The delight and happiness was also reflected on Thalia's more mature face. He had felt so happy, so proud for once in his life – he had managed to made someone feel secured, feel happy along with him; but at the same time, there was this anxiousness and tension that kept nagging him at the back of his mind. He had ignored it then, thinking it was just the side-effects of feeling so much joy for the first time.
Luke sighed. He didn't want to think about all these memories, yet he wanted to rejoice and recount everything that had happened to him in his life. He wanted to treasure the happy memories and learn from the sad ones.
But it was hard, harder than he thought, to not think about Annabeth and Thalia. To not call out for them, to tell them how sorry he was, to break the promise that he was so sure he would always keep.
He clenched his fist tightly, his nails digging into his skin, drawing blood. He didn't care; this little pain was nothing to him now. Compared to the agony he had felt again and again in his life – when he bathed in River Styx, when he had helped and became Kronos's body – this pain was nothing.
But once again, Nothing was something big.
They had avoided, fought, and survived the monsters time after time together, never apart. But when Thalia hurt herself, Luke had been scared. The feeling of a loved one maybe leaving him was unbearable. It was first time he ever felt like that, and he wanted it to stop. He brought Thalia and Annabeth to the place he never wanted to visit again – the place he had grew up in, the place that his mother was still living in.
There, he had met his Father, for the first and only time of his life. He felt anger and remorse boil inside him – he wanted revenge. He banged his fist on the table and asked why he had done all this to him, and Hermes had shaken his head sadly, not answering. His answers were the already-too-familiar Nothing.
Hermes told him that he knew his fate and he forgot all about his anger. He had asked eagerly, like a baby, what his Fate was. But Hermes had refused, and Luke had hated him even more.
It was then that he started viewing 'Nothing' as something to be disgusted with.
It was then that he felt the sudden urge to prove himself more than before, and he had attracted more monsters, dragging them all into more skirmishes, becoming more reckless.
He still didn't love his Father, but he didn't hate him that much anymore. He understood over time why he had done all those things. He wished he would know his Father a little better.
He smiled a bit at his own stupidity, for proving himself when he knew it was already his limits.
He shook his head once again and closed his eyes. He was tired, mentally. After all, thinking about all these things could drive you crazy, you know?
His heart had almost stopped when the Hunters asked Thalia to join them. And he had felt relief when she refused.
It was just another typical summer day, he was strolling around the land leisurely along with Thalia. It was the day that the Hunters had asked Thalia the question.
That night, when they were sitting down and gazing up at the starless sky, trying to avoid the topic, Luke spoke, "I know you don't want to talk about it, but I'm dying to ask you this."
Thalia had turned towards him and smiled, showing that she knew what he was talking about, "I know what you mean. It's okay. Ask what you want to ask."
Luke had poked her playfully on the shoulder, grinning like the mischievous boy he once was, "You already know what I want to ask, just answer me."
She grew serious, her face tightening and her lips pursing together, "I don't know… I just… I just didn't want to leave you behind." She had finished off awkwardly.
That was the night of tension, of truth… but the most memorable point of it was the kiss – their first kiss.
He saw the anger and hatred Thalia had towards the Hunters then, and he was happy. Happy that Thalia cared about them, cared about him more than immortality. More than everything, anything.
At that time, he was so sure that their family would be perfect forever.
Family. The word still felt rusty against his lips. He refused to say it for the past few years. He knew that it was the word that made everything become so bad.
His betrayal, perhaps Annabeth wouldn't have hated him so much if he hadn't promised that they would have a perfect family. Perhaps, just being a traitor wouldn't have broken Annabeth's heart into so many pieces.
That was the second time he felt truly, gut-wrenchingly worried. Anxiety had reached his limits. Thalia had saved them, but Luke thought she would survive, just like the first time – but she didn't. He remembered feeling terrified and shocked, he was unable to describe what he felt then with words.
Luke ran with Annabeth following right behind him, Thalia's shouts still ringing in his ears, refusing to lessen the pressure and fear he was feeling. But he was confident, he trusted that Thalia would be able to defeat that monster, she had done it many times before, it had to be no problem.
But she hadn't come back. When the golden light engulfed her, Luke had cried out. He kneeled down in front of the tree- the tree that was once his best friend, his most trust-worthy partner- and sobbed. His hands falling limply to his side, his shoulders shaking, he tuned out everything else that was happening in the world.
He didn't trust himself to speak, he couldn't even make that fake, reassuring smile he always gave Annabeth when they were almost losing a battle- this time even she knew they had lost- not only lost the battle, but it had taken away their sister, their partner and their friend.
When Zeus turned her into a tree, he was so sad, so vulnerable and helpless. From then on, he had slowly fallen into darkness, and soon he was possessed by Dark itself.
But for Annabeth's sake, he had remained emotionless, calm. Annabeth had asked him once every while, innocently, "When is Thalia going to come back?" Luke had smiled and answered repeatedly, "Soon, Annie, soon."
But he knew Annabeth understood where Thalia was, she just asked the question to reassure herself, to hear the fake and less painful truth. She wasn't ready to face the truth, not yet.
That was the biggest lie he ever said to Annabeth, but she had only been grateful. But when he had told her the truth of what he was going to do, and what he was planning with Kronos, Annabeth had been disappointed, angry and hated him even though she had known all along what was the truth. She didn't want to hear it from Luke, because like Luke, she had believed that it was partially his fault.
Luke had pondered the question in silence. Though his face was emotionless, inside emotions were churning, reminding him painfully of what had happened not so long ago.
"Answer me, Luke, answer me." Annabeth prompted impatiently, her hands fiddling with the hem of her skirt.
"It's time I told you the truth, Annie." And he had.
It was the biggest mistake he ever made.
Annabeth had stomped her feet and screamed, cursing him, blaming him for everything. Her face contorted with rage, contorted with rage.
"You have no right to speak the truth. If you hadn't listened to her, if you hadn't brought me away and ran, she wouldn't have died. Even if she did, she wouldn't be alone - she would have us. We would still be the happy and perfect family that we once were. You're a liar…"
Why was life so complicated?
He was given a quest at seventeen. He had been honored, happy and excited. For the first time he felt that maybe, just maybe, his father had loved him and cared for him. When he came back, he soon began to doubt it, hadn't Hercules had the same quest he had – to steal the Golden Apple?
He came back to camp scarred, he was angry – angry with his Father, angry with the Gods, angry with the Campers for pitying him. From then on, he swore to tear down Olympus stone by stone. Luke could feel hatred shredding every inch of his body and he relished it, the fury fueling his revenge.
Then, he had dreams about Kronos. At that time, he thought Kronos to be his lifesaver. How wrong he had been…
Luke laughed humorlessly, acidly – oh yes, Kronos was his lifesaver, he thought sarcastically, how true. Luke scowled, if he hadn't been so silly he would now be sitting under the once-Thalia pine tree, reading and chatting with Annabeth, and perhaps even Percy.
But no, his 'lifesaver' hadn't saved his life; he had ruined it.
Nightmares.
Nightmares after nightmares. They were the things that made him swear to Kronos, never to fail again.
The nightmares were the greatest fear, the only thing that made him break out in cold sweat, compared to them, Kronos didn't even seem as fierce. He saw them, his two beloved girls, being torn to shreds by monsters. He saw them screaming for his help, but he had cruelly, coldly turned his back to them, the creepy smile plastered on his face.
He knew these were the things that Kronos used to 'break' him. He didn't want to admit it, but they worked – wonderfully.
He had been punished by nightmares, because he failed to succeed to bring the Helm of Darkness and Lightning Bolt back safely. He swore to Kronos never to fail again.
When he was punished, he often woke up in his bed, panting and drenched in sweat. He would shiver and sometimes tears even streamed down his face. Other demigods in his room would grumble about how he yelled and shouted and thrashed around his bed.
It was the first time he knew and understood what being terrified was all about.
Luke knew that the next memory would be the last before the worse of all memories, and he wished that he would be able to endure it…
River Styx wasn't exactly a special river to him. It was dirty. It was a river full of discarded toys, full of dreams and hopes that dead people couldn't take back with them. It was the worst place Luke had ever been to.
It was weird. During the past few months, Luke had started feeling pity towards his mother. Perhaps it was because he knew the reason of all those fits. And he had experienced all those emotions and feelings no doubt his mother felt every time – anger, hurt, fear, uselessness, helplessness, desperation.
So when he was told to hold onto one thought to keep him with his human body, he had thought about his mother and all those fits she had. He had thought how her eyes betrayed her, just like her family did. He had felt bad, (and just a slight tinge of love) and that had kept him alive, all well, just as his mother always wished him to be.
Luke felt another tinge of sadness and remorse as his mother's face entered his mind. Of all people – Annabeth, Thalia, everyone – he wanted to tell her how sorry he was. He wished he was still alive and he knew he would have spent more time with his mother.
Treating her with care, telling her about everything he felt and experienced in the past few years. There were so many things that he could've shared with his mother, things that he had missed and will never be able to do again.
Tears began to spill down his face, and for the first time in his existence he wasn't embarrassed to let other people see him crying. He was, in fact, proud of it all. He was proud that he understood and became a better, more lovable hero – his mother's hero.
He gasped as he tried to push Kronos back. "Annabeth!" he wanted to scream. He saw her face, heard her words, and it felt like it had stabbed him in the heart. He came back to consciousness, oh, how could he be so dumb?
He saw her dagger. He reached for it. She wouldn't budge. He pushed Kronos further back, and he was sure my eyes were now in place of the Lord of Time's eyes. He begged, literally begged, Percy to give the dagger to him and finally he relented.
When he laid on the floor, in his own puddle of blood, he sighed, wincing at the pain. Finally, he became the Luke he really was, and still is now.
He felt tears drip down his face, he felt someone scream for his name down below. Annabeth and Thalia, he thought sadly.
"I love you," he whispered. But they didn't hear him.
Too late. He was dead.
Dagger. The weapon Annabeth trusted most, the weapon she was most skillful and professional at. The weapon that he had entrusted her with when we just met.
"No more monsters?" Annabeth asked through her cave, timidly.
Luke smiled at her gently, and shook his head. Luke wiped away her tears and handed her a weapon – a dagger.
"Only the smartest and bravest girl can use it." Luke told her.
Her eyes lit up, and she smiled and nodded.
Luke sighed. He'll stop here and go to sleep. It was at least a happy memory.
At first, Luke was a lot of things, but he wasn't a traitor or a promise-breaker.
After – Luke was a lot of things, but he wasn't caring nor was he the real Luke.
Then Luke was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid nor was he filled with hatred.
Finally, he was a real hero.
May Castellan's hero, Annabeth Chase's hero, Thalia Grace's hero – everyone's hero.
A hero.
La Fin
Thank you Tokoloshe Monster for beta-reading