A/N: Thanks for all the positive feedback! I'm relieved every time I write for a new pairing and get so many positive reviews!

This chapter is from Luke's POV. I hope I managed to convey his view of the world as good as Percy's. Percy insists that he isn't a hero and that everything is his fault even if it isn't, but Luke knows that everything is his fault, so he's feeling even more down than Percy, and with good reason. That was what I had in mind while writing this chapter.

So, enjoy reading, and keep reviewing! You are the best audience I could ask for!

Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus are the intellectual property of Rick Riordan. I own nothing but the plot.

I knew how rue and regret felt. I, of all people, should know how it felt. I had felt more regret and shame than I had ever thought was possible after my death. I had cried on my way to the Underworld, but unlike most of the dead, I hadn't cried because I wanted to come back to life. I had cried because I had wished I would have never lived.

People who I had once considered my friends had died because of me, the blood of most of my former fellow campers covered my hands. I had nearly killed the two people who had been my family for years, and I had nearly killed an innocent, twelve years old boy who had got dragged into the whole Olympic business. I had been close to destroying the whole world, approximately eight billion humans, for the sake of revenge.

So, all in all, I knew how regret felt. Or so I thought.

I had learned to deal with my feelings over the course of the past seven years, with the help of people who were supposed to hate me. Charles Beckendorf and Silena Beauregard should spit on me, and I wasn't even worthy of that. But they didn't. I had fallen to my knees and begged people for their forgiveness, something I would have never done while I was alive. And most people had forgiven me. Hatred was of no use if you were dead. But now the regret came back.

The decision to stay in Elysium had been due to two reasons. One: I mustn't be allowed to ever walk the world again. What if I'd be reborn and start a war all over again? I couldn't risk that. Two: I had hoped that, one day, I would be reunited with the person about whom I cared the most. And I had not been thinking of Annabeth Chase or Thalia Grace.

I had been thinking of Perseus Jackson.

One of the numerous decisions that I regretted was to have come to Annabeth. I should have gone to Percy and ask him to run away with me. Maybe, only maybe he would have given in to my pleas. We could have hid from Kronos, and lived happily ever after.

Because I was in love with Percy Jackson.

Hurting him, on several occasions, had been the most painful thing I'd ever done. Emotionally painful. The things Kronos would have done to me if I'd defied him would have been way more painful physically. When I had betrayed Percy's trust for the first time, after his successful quest, I didn't have the heart to kill him myself. I had, coward I was, left the job to a monster and walked away, had run as soon as I was out of sight, and hoped he hadn't seen the tears in my eyes.

But against all odds, he had survived, escaped Kronos again and again. He had grown sixteen, and he had managed to stop Kronos, stop me. And every god shall be my witness when I say that I wished surrendering would have been enough. It would have meant that I would have survived, and maybe eventually gotten the chance to be with him.

But I had to die. That's the world for you: The villain dies, and the hero gets the girl. In this case, it meant that I had to see the love in Annabeth's eyes before I died, the love that burnt for Percy.

But seven years of waiting had paid off. Percy had not chosen rebirth. He had returned to me, or that was what I liked to tell myself. And the fact that he had never loved Annabeth had made me celebrate inwardly. I knew that I was unfair against Annabeth, my may-as-well-be-little-sister, but I couldn't do anything against it.

I had, like Percy, never claimed a house during the past seven years. I slept in a tent, like I had several times during the war. I loved to hear the rain hit the outside of the tent. It helped me think, and if I focused on the sound, it helped me forget everything else and fall asleep.

During the past weeks, we had made a habit of hanging out together, sitting next to each other, silent. I wouldn't be able to say what he liked about it. I simply enjoyed sitting close to him and enjoyed his presence. He'd probably freak out if he'd know that. I didn't assume that he had a problem with guys liking guys, but I had seen enough boys who avoided girls who had confessed to them if they didn't like them back. Why would Percy be different?

I couldn't do anything but marvel at his sight. When we had first met, he had been simply cute. At first, when I had met him in the Hermes cabin at Camp Half-Blood, I had simply felt protective, like he was my little brother. No sign of romantic interest, I had seen a confused little kid who had just lost his mother and didn't know anybody in this confusing, new world. It had been only natural to try to befriend him. At this time, I hadn't known that he was the one I would have to betray.

But during the four years of war, during the several times we'd met… I had to admit that he had become a strong young man, a brave hero. Besides the fact that we were on different sides, I admired him, even though I was used to being the one who was admired. But he was good, a better swordsman than I could have taught him, and he was handsome. I could fully understand why Annabeth was so infatuated with him. But my heart still stung with jealousy whenever she looked at him all lovestruck. And I had died, knowing that they'd inevitably become a couple.

After he had told me about the seven years I'd missed, I admired him even more. Turning down the gift of immortality, making sure the gods wouldn't neglect their children again… I was feeling like falling on my knees and begging him for an autograph. He had fought another war and fought his way through Tartarus… my more-than-a-crush mixed with admiration and intensified. The fact that we were often hugging and stuff, when he was feeling guilty or depressed again, didn't help, and neither did the fact that the age difference of seven years was gone.

'One thing I wanted to ask you for a long time… Why did you ask Annabeth if she loved you?'

We were sitting at our usual spot at the creek, a few hundred metres away from my tent. The question really caught me off-guard. The answer had two parts, but I couldn't really him the whole truth, so I settled for a half-hearted answer. And I can tell you, it hurt to lie to him again.

'I had to know. I didn't want to die without knowing whether I would leave her broken-hearted. The way she used to look up to me… I had never been sure if she didn't see me as more than a big brother. I would have hated to learn that she loved me, seconds before my death, but I had to know.'

I didn't understand the bitterness in Percy's voice when he answered. 'What if you wouldn't have been about to die? What if she would have confessed her love to you, even after all you'd done?'

I shook my head. 'There wouldn't have been a happily-ever-after for us, Percy. I never saw her as more than a sister. The same goes for Thalia. They are my family, but not more. I was glad to hear that we were on the same page.' I didn't tell him that I had partially wished that Annabeth would have loved me, because that would have meant that she didn't love Percy. And right now, I wished I would understand why Percy looked to relieved. I couldn't imagine why he would be happy that I didn't love Annabeth. The subject didn't have anything to do with him, did it? But I didn't pry.

The weeks passed by and became months, and Percy had still not demanded a house. He was by now as well sleeping in a tent, maybe fifty metres away, and the close proximity didn't exactly make it easy to ignore my feelings. The reason why I had never claimed a house – every dead soul who lived in Elysium had the right to get a house or a flat if they wanted – was that I had, ever since I got here, imagined to move in with Percy. I knew full-well that it was a stupid dream, but that didn't keep me from dreaming it. I had no idea whether our tastes in furniture would mix, or if we would – on condition that we'd get together – work out as a couple, but I kept dreaming of the two of us living together.

There was no such thing as birthday in the Underworld, what made me rather sad. Sure, there was spring, summer, fall and winter, but there was no such thing as a calendar that would allow you to determine the date. I would have loved to celebrate Percy's birthday with him. But as it was, I had to settle for celebrating the one-year-anniversary of his arrival with him. I hoped he would understand what I meant and not get it wrong. I meant it as a 'you are here, with me and your friends, for one year'-party, and not as a 'you've died a year ago'-party.

'Percy… do you know what day it is today?' As to be expected, Percy shook his head.

'It's been one year since you've come here and we've met again, and I thought… maybe that was a reason to celebrate.' An expression that could only be described as bittersweet flashed across Percy's face, and I was sure that I had screwed everything up, but Percy smiled the slightest bit and obediently closed his eyes when I led him to a place at the creek.

'Here we are' I said, and Percy opened his eyes. I had prepared a picnic basket, a cake (I was quite proud of it. I had never tried baking something before, but with a little help from Silena, I had managed to produce a formidable cake) and a blanket placed at the ground. I had considered getting candles, but I had decided that it would look too much like a date. Percy cracked a weak smile. 'So, what is this? A one-year-reunion-party?' I nodded. 'Pretty much.'