Luke — Eyes
Luke (14) - Annabeth (7) - Travis (7) - Connor (6)
December 2000
Luke knows better than anyone, knows more than anymore, the hardships and the unfairness of the streets. Society is against them, nature is out to kill them, and nobody can be trusted.
Luke understands that life so well. That part of his life is still fresh in his mind. Just a few months ago, he was them. He was on the streets, scavenging however he could to stay alive.
Maybe that's why he stopped that day when he spotted them.
Usually street performers aren't working right smack in the middle of winter when it's snowing and they aren't usually little boys. But right there, in the middle of New York City's busy streets is a little boy performing mediocre magic tricks. The crowds he draws up are mostly young adults who coo at his attempts.
There is another small child though, probably the kid of one of them, weaving among the enthralled crowd. Luke figures he's trying to wiggle his way to the front for a better view but then the kid stops behind the adults.
Luke's eyes narrow.
A hand pulls at his sleeve and he jumps. Luke looks down to see sharp, gray eyes staring up at him, the recipient with a small pout.
"Come on, Luke. We're going to be late for the Winter Solstice," Annabeth says, drawing her scarf closer around her neck. She's shivering and Luke thoughtlessly pulls his beanie off and tuck it on Annabeth's head.
He nods and takes her hand, following Chiron and the other campers to the Empire State Building. But for whatever reason, he decides to look back one more time. The magician does a trick and the crowd cheers in response. A total bum considering how awful the kid really is. Luke yawns and lets his eyes drift away but something catches his eye. The small kid who moved behind the adults stands on his tippy toes, acting like he's trying to see the show. But his hands aren't at his side. Instead, they're dipping into the clueless bystanders' bags. In one swift and smooth gesture, the kid pulls out wallets, receipts, accessories while zipping the bag shut in one go before moving on to the next victim.
That's not surprising. People can be trained to pickpocket even if this kid is a better pickpocket than most people he knows.
Then the kid pulls out a flip phone from one of the purses. It's the fear. It's the panic. It's the way the kid's eyes are darting back and forth around. It's the way he puts the phone back in the purse, that makes Luke stop.
No way.
"Actually, Annabeth, can you go on? I have something to do first."
"Chiron won't be happy," warns Annabeth.
"Cover for me, please?" Luke asks with a half smile, already backing towards the show, "Tell him I may find one."
He doesn't wait for an answer and heads for the small crowd around the magic show.
The kid magician smiles a big, toothy smile at Luke and waves. Luke waves back but he stands towards the back, peering over shoulders. Up close, he can see how bad the magic tricks truly are. They are amateurish and the tricks are extremely noticeable.
But Luke also notices how young the kid is, probably no older than Annabeth.
It tugs at his heart a bit when he sees the kid flourishing a deck of cards with a wide, innocent smile. And in a squeaky, adorable voice proclaims his next trick.
But his purpose here isn't for the magician. No, it is for the pickpocketer. As inconspicuous as he can, Luke lets his eyes wander the crowd, searching for the other kid. He jolts when he does find the kid and the kid is staring right back at him.
Piercing blue eyes stare back at him from the side and Luke forces himself to move his gaze away slowly, to make it seem like he's just surveying the area, before letting it come back to the awful magic trick going on.
They're related. The magician and the pickpocketer. Twins? From the second glance he had, they did look pretty similar.
The prickly sensation of being watched does not fade over time and the urge to look back is becoming overwhelming. Eventually Luke gives in and quickly takes a peek, finding the kid gone.
The feeling of being watched is still there though.
Luke stuffs his hands into his pocket, fisting his wallet to make sure it's still there.
It is.
He takes it out and yup, the cash is still there.
But as a precaution, he initiates plan B and places a note in the folds before putting it back in his pocket.
The magician screams and Luke snaps his eyes back up front. The kid has a cell phone out, punching the keys vigorously. His face twists into despair and he practically wails for all of New York to hear, "Oh my god, I can't believe I forgot to text my mom! I'm supposed to be home right now! Ahh, I need to go!"
The kid begins stuffing all his magic tricks into a plastic bag ignoring the crowds' concerns.
"Do you want a ride home? It's too cold out to be walking."
"Do you know where your mom is? Maybe she should come to you."
"Are you cold? You're shivering!"
The words fall on deaf ears as the boy takes off down a street, weaving through the opposing crowd of walkers with ease. Luke sighs and his eyes wander around, searching for the little pickpocketer. Of course, he isn't around anymore and Luke is about to call it quits when he notices the emptiness in his pockets.
The wallet is gone in that second of distraction, taken right from his hands literally.
Luke does one more useless look around for the thief but, of course, they aren't here.
He stands among the concerned crowd who talk among themselves, still clueless to their missing belongings. He stares at where the kid fled for a moment. Then he takes out a drachma and heads to an alleyway, tossing it onto a puddle of melted ice. As soon as the face appears on the gray, dirtied slush, Luke says, "Hey, Chiron. I found two."
Luke shifts from foot to foot, pulling his jacket closer to him. Even with a parka, it still isn't enough to shut out the cold. He waits for several minutes, checking his watch before stuffing his gloved hands back into his pockets.
Several more minutes pass and Luke begins to have doubts. He mutters, "Did I put 35th Street? Oh crap...what if I put 34th?"
Dyslexia is a total pain in the butt sometimes and Luke is ready to take off when a tiny voice chirps above him.
"Wait! Er, um, Luke?"
Luke pauses, takes several steps back, and of course, why didn't he think to check his surroundings first?
Perch on top the fire escape are the two boys, the magician and the pickpocketer. With them side by side, staring down at him with their identical, blue eyes and blank, neutral faces it's easy to see how alike they are. Too much alike. Luke can't tell who was the one to pickpocket him.
"Hi," Luke says, waving. "You guys came."
The one on the right, sitting cross-legged on the railing, digs out a piece of paper from his pocket. The piece of paper Luke had hurriedly stuffed into his wallet prior to being stolen.
"Yeah, we did," the one with the paper says.
"'Come to 35th Street. My name is Luke. I want to have a chat,'" the other kid states, standing with his hands in his pockets, "We're here. So what do you want?"
Gods, even their voices are the same.
They stare down at him with distrusting eyes and Luke hates how he can relate to that. He takes another step back so he doesn't have to crank his head so high and attempts to smile. A harmless one, he hopes.
"Nothing much. I just want to talk. Are you twins?"
The one standing frowns. His eyes spark in a way that was familiar. The way they shine, it reminds him of Annabeth. They flicker around, darting left and right before settling on Luke again. "You went through all this trouble to say hi? I don't believe you. Are you working for the police?" His eyes narrow and Luke is quick to shake his head, holding up his empty hands.
"Nope." He unbuttons his jacket and lifts his collar, "See? I am not wired or anything."
The glare didn't ease up as Luke buttons his parka back up.
"What's your full name?" the kid asks.
"Luke Castellan."
"What do you want with us?"
"Nothing much. Just want to ask a few questions. Are you guys cold? You're shivering." Luke says, eyeing the measly thin jacket they both wear. That's not enough to keep them warm and yeah, they are shivering. But their hard face gives nothing away.
It hurts to think about it. Just a few short months ago, he was them.
The one sitting shakes his head and turns to his brother and speaks in a foreign tongue. It's … Luke thinks it's Japanese, but he isn't sure. But he knows they're not happy. The standing one scowls and turns around, but the sitting one grabs his wrist, shaking his head and says, this time in Spanish in what Luke thinks is, "Let's try one more time."
Either that or "Let's flay him."
The sitting one turns back to him and with a cheeky smile asks, "Hey, Luke, we're very busy kids. We got to get enough money to eat at McDonalds and you're taking up our time. Please tell us what you want with us."
"I can buy you a meal at McDonalds if you guys want. We should get out of the cold."
Shit. A second after the words come out, he realizes how creepy that sounds.
Mr. Frowny thinks so too, because he stiffens and grabs his brother by the hoodie as if Luke can touch them from the 10-foot height difference between them. "We're not going anywhere with you. Come on, Travis. We're leaving."
Travis, the one sitting, the one still smiling, the one not pulling away but staying his ground, the one still facing him, pulls out a phone. A small flip phone but still a phone. And okay, maybe they're not demigods if they have a phone on them and are still alive.
"He flinched, Connor," Travis says still with a grin.
Connor pauses, eyes widening. "You're like us then? The monsters come when you use a phone?"
So they are demigods. Crazy demigods who carry a phone on them.
Luke tries to keep the unease out of his voice, but he can't. Not when he stupidly left his celestial weapon back at Mount Olympus and all he has on him is this thick parka and wad of dollar bills. "Look, you don't even have to be making a call. Just holding it will—"
"We know. That's why we took the batteries out." Connor holds up the battery to show him. "The phone is off."
Luke isn't risking it. "Okay, but it's still dangerous."
Travis shrugs. "We had this phone for months and we've been fine so far."
"Okay, but still."
Travis leans forward with a brighter grin, the rusty fire escape creaking under his weight, "Hey, hey, Luke. Since you're like us, then you must know our dad, right?"
"Maybe. Possibly. There are so many gods and goddesses, but we can talk about them later. First, let's put away the phone and get somewhere safe."
"No," Connor says, "You're sketchy and we're not dumb, little kids that you can trick. I bet you're secretly a monster in disguise."
Connor moves to leave again and Travis grabs his brother's wrist, pleading this time in Chinese. Luke still can't understand a word they're saying, but it looks like Connor is giving in, sagging with a defeated sigh as Travis beams.
Travis turns to him still with that grin. "Alright. We'll follow you. You'll take us to dad, right?"
Connor grins too, the smile identical to Travis's but it's somehow lace with more malice. He follows up with, "If you lie to us, I'll make you regret it."
They both climb down the fire escape, agile and nimble for their age. Up close, he can see how short and young they really are.
A wave of emotions wash over Luke that moment.
Doubt that they're actually demigods.
Pride that if they are, then they did well to survive for so long.
But anger most of all.
They know how to take care of themselves. They know how to fend for themselves. They know to be cautious. They know how to survive.
When they shouldn't have to. Not at this age.
Their parents failed them.
Just like his had for him and Annabeth's for hers and Thalia's.
Luke really looks at them.
At one boy with sharp, piercing eyes and the other with bright, clear ones.
And Gods, they remind Luke of them so much.
Annabeth with her perceptiveness. Thalia with her upfrontness.
Luke bites his cheeks. Drawing in a deep breath and exhaling, he blinks back the tear-pricks sensation and smiles.
"You guys heard of Camp Half Blood? It's a special place for kids like you and me."
Thank you for reading!