I apologize. This is a day late. But, I have good reason my computer died and did not get fixed until this morning. As soon as I got the chance, I got on the computer and started typing. Who knows? I may even give you two chapters today. We'll see.

Anyway, this chapter took a lot of thought to come up with (and lots of wasted paper), but here it is. It may not be completely realistic, but give me some artistic license.

Anyway, this chapter is about Luke. I think a few people have requested him. So if you requested Luke, this chapter is dedicated to you! Enjoy!

Luke

Luke always thought death would be more exciting. He imagined Charon's ferry to be dark and mysterious and dangerous. One last adventure before you lived out your days in the underworld. Or as much as you could "live" when you were dead.

He definitely didn't expect to wait in line in a recording studio to speak with a ferryman in an Italian suit.

He'd been to the underworld before, but it was only to bathe in the River Styx. He didn't even go past the gates. And he had a feeling that the underworld might be different when he's actually dead.

For the first time since he had arrived, Luke allowed himself to look around the room, and instantly regretted it. Standing around him were demigods. Dozens and dozens of demigods. And he had a hand in killing every single one of them. Some were glaring at him. Angry, accusatory glares. But worse were the looks of fright, longing and downright misery. It made Luke think of the lives that he had deprived all of them of, all the things they left behind. What could have been if he hadn't screwed everything up so badly.

He gasped and looked back down at the floor. This was all his fault. If he had just been stronger, less rash and resentful, he could have prevented so much death. He understood why he was getting such hateful glares. If he could, he would look at himself that way.

"You got Drachmas?" said a cold voice from behind the desk.

He looked up. He was so consumed with his regret that he hadn't noticed that he had reached the desk. Charon was staring down at him, a bored expression on his face.

"No," he said.

"Well why'd you bother waiting in line then? Go take a seat." He gestured to an overcrowded couch in the corner of the room. "Stop wasting my time, stupid mortal."

"I'm not a mortal," Luke said plainly.

"Well you aren't a god. Gods don't die," he said. "So, demigod, then. Why are there so many of you today?"

"There was a war."

"Oh, really? How exciting. So I'm guessing you are all heroes and I should let you in?"

"I'm not a hero, but they are. Let them in. You can let me stay here." Luke said. Somehow, even though he was being selfless, Luke felt like a coward. Like he was just doing it to avoid going to the judgement pavilion. Even though she had told him he was going to get in to Elysium. No. Luke thought Don't think about her. Don't think about any of them

Charon scowled. "Not a hero, eh? For some reason I feel like I'm going to get yelled at if I don't let you past. And Hades won't hesitate to decrease my salary. Very well. Go through."

"What about the others?" Luke asked.

"They can go too. This is going to be a busy day." Charon replied, annoyed. "Now get onto the ferry. It's not my fault if it leaves without you."

Luke walked forwards into the waiting boat. He heard Charon yelling for all the demigods to get on the boat. He dreaded standing on the same boat as the people he'd killed, but he felt some comfort in knowing that most of them would make Elysium. He' hoped they'd at least get a happy afterlife.

The ferry ride itself flew by in a blur. He remembered almost nothing of it. And after almost no time he found himself standing right in front of the judges. They looked exhausted. The death toll today was massive. The judges would be even less forgiving.

"Name?" one of them said, not looking up.

He took a deep breath. "Luke Castellan, Son of Hermes," he said, his voice was steady, but he was terrified on the inside. He knew that whatever happened, he had brought it upon himself. But he still found himself terrified. He wasn't brave. Not like Bechendorf or Silena or any of the heroes who had died protecting their home. Or even Ethan Nakamura, whose last minute decision had aided in the defeat of Kronos. He was a coward. He didn't deserve Elysium, or even Asphodel.

The judges had looked up and were now staring at him. No one even took out a file, they didn't discuss; they just stared.

Suddenly, Luke's life flashed before his eyes. Suddenly he was nine again and scared of his own mother, as she ran around the house with her glowing green eyes, warning him about his fate.

He saw himself run away. And then meet Thalia. He relived his adventures with her. He felt the fear and happiness and hopelessness. He was back in the house where he had met Hal.

Then, there was Annabeth. Seven –year- old Annabeth, every bit as fierce as she was when he last saw her.

Their adventures together played out before him. He realized that those days with Annabeht and Thalia were the best of his life.

He watched as they gradually went down hill:

Meeting his Father.

Thalia's death.

His disastrous quest.

Then, Percy Jackson arrived, and he watched as Annabeth left on her first quest with him. He saw his slow fall into the darkness of Kronos.

He saw himself do unspeakable things. Not just to strangers or enemies, but to his friends, Thalia, Grover, Annabeth.

He felt the pain of the River Styx, and he saw Thalia and Annabeth appear to him in the water.

He felt the horror of Kronos taking over his body and the fight to regain control of his own mind.

The whirling images slowed down as he relived the scene on Mount Olympus. He felt himself die, again. He saw it from a different light now. He saw himself ask whether Annabeth loved him. And this time he saw the look that she gave Percy Jackson, and the look he sent right back at her. It was almost as if they had realized that the other person was alive, and that made everything okay again. In that second, he knew without a doubt that they were in love.

Instantly, Luke felt the most bizarre mix of emotions: Jealousy, regret, and relief.

The jealousy came from a dark part inside him that refused to believe that the little girl who had idolized him had grown up and didn't need him.

He regretted that he had not been able to be the one who took care of Annabeth, that he had hurt her.

And the relief? He realized that now he wasn't leaving anyone behind alone. Thalia had the Hunters, Grover had new friends, and a girlfriend. And Annabeth had Percy who would take care of her no matter what. He would take care of her better than Luke ever did.

He felt at peace now.

The vision faded.

The judges stared at him in shock and confusion. They glanced at each other before they all said: "Elysium."

Meh. Not my favourite. And I realize that that one didn't have much (or any) Percabeth in it. I'll try to make the next one much fluffier. Unless, of course, you guys don't want fluffy. It's up to you really.

Anyway, review! And make suggestions! I pretty much know who I'm going to write next, but I still want to hear your ideas. The help a lot.

The next one should be out tomorrow or Wednesday. If it's not out by Thursday, feel free to yell at me.

Till the next time,

Taryn