Luke just stared at the empty spot on the floor and she was just gone. Not even a mark to show a girl had been there. Not even a pile of ashes. Not even…wait.

The floor where she had been was empty. The floor next to where she had been was full. It wasn't Annabeth. Annabeth was not that tall, and Annabeth had not been wearing a red cloak. There was a man curled on the floor, lying utterly still. No…not a man, for all he was man sized when a moment before…Luke glanced at his father's throne. The throne was empty.

"Ow, ow, ow," Muttered the god where he still lay curled up on the floor, only audible because the rest of the room had gone utterly silent. Not from shock or horror, as one might expect; when Luke glanced around he saw a lot of startled faces but only some that looked particularly horrified that Lord Zeus had just smote a small child.

The voice of said small child was suddenly heard throughout the throne room in a sobbing cry of distress. It cut off abruptly for no apparent reason, but Luke had already heard. Annabeth was…alive? Alive enough to cry. Slowly, carefully, Lord Hermes pulled himself up. Beneath him, curled in a ball on the floor and now crying silently, was Annabeth. Hermes looked down at her, frowned, then, very slowly, started to pull himself to his feet. He looked unhurt, too, at a glance, though he moved as if in pain. No one ran over to help him. Luke glanced at Zeus. The god was frowning, but no more than he had been before.

"Really, Hermes," said Lord Zeus, sighing the sigh of a father exasperated with his child's antics.

"Sorry, Father," Hermes said as he stood. He grew as he stood until he was godly height again, and in his bigger form Luke noticed that there was a golden substance trickling from his ear. "I saw the child and went to chastise her for her daring. I should have realized you already had it in hand."

"I applaud your diligence, my son, but I cannot say much for your attention to your surroundings," Zeus said, actually sounding amused now. "A warrior, you are not. Still, I suppose you found yourself duly punished for your inattention?"

"I suppose I wasn't fast enough," Hermes agreed, putting a hand to his bleeding ear. Or would it be ichoring ear?

"Not faster than your father, eh," Zeus said, openly smiling. In fact, to Luke's growing anger, a good half of the gods were laughing, and those that weren't mostly smiled, as if this had all been one giant joke. Hermes reached down and scooped Annabeth up in his hand, and for a horrible moment, especially after Hermes' talk of going to 'chastise her', Luke expected some new horror. For him to dump her in front of Zeus so he could have a second go at smiting her. For him to crush her himself. She looked like a baby in his arms, as big as he'd become. It would be easy for him to do.

He staggered, gave Athena an assessing look, then hobbled over to Apollo and dumped Annabeth on his lap.

"Still think restraints a bad idea, brother?" he asked. Apollo just stared at him with wide eyes. Annabeth, Luke noticed, was now wearing one of the same medallions all of Cabin 11 had forced on them. No wonder she was quiet.

"Now that that has been dealt with," Zeus's voice boomed, "Continue, my dear."

"As I was saying," Demeter said, actually sounding a bit offended to have been interrupted, "I've been working with Apollo and Hephaestus to work out the energy difficulties in growing grain in a tower…"

And she droned on. Luke no longer listened. Hermes half fell onto his throne, which in itself looked uncomfortable considering it was made of stone, though it did have a cushion on the seat. The two snakes from his caduceus, who up to this point had been pretending to be nothing but decoration, crawled down his staff to slither about his shoulders.

Luke felt strange, like he'd been filled with ice, his heart still hammering even as the danger seemed to pass. He'd complained long and often about how little the gods had for their children. He thought he understood, that he knew. And in a way, he'd just been proved right.

Zeus would have killed Annabeth without a regret, without a care. He cared so very little about it, that he hadn't even seemed to care that he'd missed. Which was good, because if he cared, he'd have made sure of things. Annabeth would be dead.

She wasn't dead. He could see her. She was in Apollo's lap, and the god was very clearly doing his best to help her. Her face was still wet and shiny from crying, but Apollo had given her some kind of candy and was cooing softly over her, too soft for Luke to hear over his still racing heart, and Annabeth's expression was more bewildered than consoled but she had stopped crying. She was fine. She was with a god who protected children. The fun god, according to Chloe.

She was fine. She was more fine than Hermes.

It took a long time for Luke's brain to work backwards and figure out what he'd just seen because everything had been too fast, too sudden, too horrible. One moment, Hermes had been in his throne, Annabeth across the room and in the direct path of a lightning bolt. In the next Hermes had moved fast enough to shield Annabeth. Hermes had gone small as he flew because…because why? From a speed perspective it made no sense; he'd have further to go.

Luke imagined it, a giant god covering a girl so tiny she was like a baby to him. He imagined him flying between her and a lightning bolt. And…either he swept her to the side or the bolt itself blasted them both to the side because they moved from where Annabeth had been. In his giant body he might well have crushed her. He was…he was protecting her. That was the only thing that made sense. Hermes saw, maybe Luke's struggle had alerted him, maybe he looked up in time, but he saw what was about to happen, and he came between Annabeth and Zeus in the way that would most fully protect the child. Hermes could say he hadn't noticed Zeus all he wanted, that he himself meant to chastise Annabeth, but if that were true then his actions made no sense. He would have no reason to move so fast. No reason to go small when he did. No reason to situate himself as he did, curled around her.

Maybe Zeus knew the truth and didn't care. Maybe Zeus was just very willing to believe Hermes that inept. People saw what they wanted to see, sometimes, and Zeus clearly liked the narrative that his son had accidentally intercepted his lightning bolt. But Annabeth was safe, and it was because of Luke's father. The father who wasn't supposed to care.

Hermes was sitting back in his throne, his stance rigid and stiff, hands clutched into fists. His snakes, by contrast, were coiling and uncoiling, wrapping themselves about him. Luke couldn't hear them, if they were talking at all, but somehow, for being reptiles, they radiated concern. Hermes' siblings kept glancing at him, though their expressions varied between concern and mild amusement. Athena pointedly did not look at him or Annabeth, her stony expression kept firmly fixed on Demeter.

The meeting went on.

Athena talked about the achievements of some of her children and her success in some research project or other. She still did not look at Annabeth. Ares talked about how America was doing in various worldwide conflicts, and the trouble Ares had run into with different local war deities. Aphrodite was thrilled to share about a new reality show. Hephaestus's report was short and to the point and basically went, 'things continue as they did the year before'. Mr. D grumbled about his punishment.

"It is the consequences of your own actions," Zeus responded, frowning, playing with his bolt and Dionysus shrunk down in his throne, though his expression was more petulant than fearful as he muttered, "Sure, starve the wine god. You're just lucky that teenagers are half insane or I'd probably have faded by now."

When it was Hermes' turn, he sounded oddly normal. Relaxed even. Not as if he were in pain, though his hands were still clenched into fists and his snakes had not left him. There was still a line of gold dripped down from his ear, staining his red cloak. His report was just as boring as any of the others, all about Hermes Express's numbers for the year, a list of promising athletes, and then a dry recounting of a few heists he'd had a hand in. Almost as an afterthought he added, "And I would again like to again ask if an internal extension of Cabin 11 could not be allowed, seeing as all of your children have had their home within its walls?"

"We've already discussed this, Hermes," Lord Zeus said with a frown, his bolt dribbling lightning down his robe. It might have just been a trick of the light, but Luke was almost certain he saw his father flinch. "Your cabin cannot surpass that of the other gods."

"Which is why I only wanted internal…"

Lightning hit sizzled across the room and Luke flinched, shutting his eyes, though he could still see it for a long time after, burned across his vision. It didn't hit anyone this time, as far as Luke could tell; it had left a singed mark at the foot of Hermes' throne. The other bolt hadn't left any mark like that. Probably because it had gone through a person first. If Hermes had flinched, he was over it by the time Luke was blinking away the light, because Hermes just sighed, as if tired.

"Yes, father," was all he said. "I was only concerned for the wellbeing of our children."

"Our?" Zeus hissed, eyes narrowing, and Hermes lost some of his tired demeanor, sitting rigid once more.

"Ours except for the big three, of course," Hermes was quick to say.

Luke thought about Thalia, and glared at his own lap because glaring at Zeus right then felt extremely unwise.

The meeting went on. After everyone had reported, Zeus going last and droning on the longest about storm systems and about godly statistics, Luke hoped the council would finally be over. It wasn't. Next the floor was open for the lesser gods to speak. Few did, thankfully, after the first few who petitioned for some help were glared at and turned down. Clearly Zeus was not in the mood to grant favors, though he did help a few who asked.

Finally, finally the council drew to a close. Hermes' snakes returned to his staff. Gods and goddesses stood.

"Bow to Zeus before we leave," Hermes softly hissed at the campers surrounding him, and he snapped his fingers. The restraints were gone, though not the medallions, and Hermes led them one last time to bow before Zeus's throne. Hermes wasn't staggering anymore. Probably, lightning bolts didn't really hurt a god like him. It would have killed Annabeth, but Hermes seemed to have shaken it off.

Luke still didn't know what to feel. His father, the father he hated, the father who was never there for him, the father who didn't care…had saved Annabeth.

He needed to see Annabeth.

Lord Hermes gathered his cabin around him just outside the throne room and waited, looking regal and godly as he leaned on his staff. Luke could still see dark smudges under his eyes, though. Ichor staining his ear. It was like two images juxtaposed over each other; the great god, regal and dangerous and Other, and the common man, kind and fatherly and tired. Luke could see both and it disconcerted him. This wasn't how meeting his father was supposed to go. His father wasn't supposed to have humanity beneath his godly cloak.

They waited until other gods came slowly trickling out and more and more half-bloods returned to their fold. A few ran for the restroom the moment they passed the doors. Some of the gods and goddesses dropped off their offspring like parents stopping by a daycare. Athena approached Hermes, her children minus Annabeth following behind like very stressed ducklings.

"I don't need you to rescue my children from the consequences of their own actions," she told Hermes coldly.

"You're welcome," Hermes answered lightly. She glowered at him.

"I'm not rescuing you from the consequences of your own actions either," she said. "You deserved that bolt." And she turned and glided away. Her children didn't follow this time, standing in a lost, miserable huddle with the others. Luke half wanted to go over to them. To comfort them, maybe. Or to shout at them, to shake them, to demand how they could have let Annabeth slip away like that. In the end he did neither.

"I told you Father was in a mood," Mr. D said as he walked by with his wife and children. They all stayed together as they went on to wherever the party was supposed to be.

Apollo showed up soon after. He was still carrying Annabeth, but he also seemed acutely aware of his own children. He also approached Hermes.

"The little one is fine," were his first words.

"I never aske…" Hermes started to answer only for his brother to stuff a square of ambrosia into his mouth, so his words trailed off into, "mmph".

"Thank you for protecting the child where I could not," Apollo said while his brother by force had to chew and swallow to clear his tongue. Apollo placed the hand not still holding Annabeth on Hermes' shoulder, and for a moment the two of them glowed. Hermes staggered slightly into his brother, and Apollo reacted by throwing his arm around his brother in a half hug.

"What are you…stop that," Hermes grumbled, though he didn't actually pull himself free.

Hermes looked much better. Luke had been telling himself over and over that Hermes wasn't really that hurt, that he was fine, that he could walk off a lightning bolt. But the difference between before and after Apollo had done whatever he'd done, healing magic or whatever, was staggering. Hermes face went from a chalky white to a more natural color, and lines of pain he'd mostly managed to hide became obvious as they smoothed away, his entire body relaxing. He still had shadows under his eyes but not as starkly. The ichor vanished too, except from where it had already stained his clothing. Apparently magic healing didn't extend to dry cleaning.

"If you would stop playing the part of father's lightning rod, he wouldn't have to," a new voice said. Artemis had joined them. Her tone was more teasing than mocking and Hermes rolled his eyes.

"If everyone would just restrain their brats, I wouldn't have to," he said.

"I still don't like how you restrained them," Apollo said, but soon added, "But I can see now it was not the cruelty it first appeared."

"It totally was," Hermes objected conversely, then, "Are you letting go any time soon?"

"Zeus's lightning bolt, almost smote Athena's child, Hermes's a hero."

"I think that's a no," Artemis put in helpfully. Hermes grumbled and finally startled struggling.

"Wrestling again, brothers?" Ares asked as he passed by. "I thought Apollo already won the gold."

"I invented wrestling," Hermes objected, then did something probably underhanded that got himself free.

Annabeth was finally, finally settled on the ground. Her siblings immediately tried to surround her, but Luke got there faster, hugging her tight. She squirmed in his arms but didn't say anything. Or if she did, he didn't hear her.

"Oh, right," Hermes said, and snapped his fingers again. Immediately, a small cacophony of voices started up.

"Let go, let go, let go!" Annabeth was shouting in his ear.

"Never, ever, ever get yourself smote again," Luke ordered, now that he could.

The next part of Solstice was the party. It was more fun than Hermes had made it sound back in the camp. There were sweets, and there was wild music, and dancing. The gods who attended with the half-bloods all made themselves small again to better fit in. Luke couldn't bring himself to fully enjoy it. Too wound up from the Council Meeting.

Too confused over conflicting emotions. He was still angry, so very angry, and hurting. He was shaken at almost losing Annabeth. And he was…grateful. So very grateful that Hermes had thrown himself between her and death. And so very, very confused.

In the end, he did choose to approach his father, rather than to avoid him. But he didn't start shouting or raging either, like he'd imagined he might.

"Lord Hermes?" he started with, looking up at him, his serious tone at odds with the festive party. His father, who had been indulgently wandering about, handing out sweets to already over-sugared children with an easy grin, turned and gave Luke his full attention. Luke half expected him to say something inane like 'call me dad', as if they should just forget the past and be one happy family. He didn't.

"Yes, Luke?" he answered. Not 'son'. Luke wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed. His instinct was disappointed. His father always disappointed him, after all. It was natural to feel that.

"Thank you for saving Annabeth," Luke said.

Hermes' expression was piercing, not kind or stern, but intense. As if he were giving the whole of his attention over to Luke. And the whole attention of a god, especially one with such divided realms as Hermes ruled, was no small thing. Luke could feel his eyes on him like the warm blast of a furnace. Luke wondered if Hermes would wave it off, repeat the lie about trying to chastise her, or saying it was nothing. As if saving Annabeth were nothing. He didn't.

"You're welcome," he said, and unlike when he'd spoken to Athena, he sounded like he meant it, and not as a reflexive response to a thank you, either. Like he really meant it. For a moment neither of them spoke, but nor did Hermes turn away, his attention still on his son, a shared silence rather than an awkward one.

"Did it hurt?" Luke blurted out into the silence.

"Did what hurt?" Hermes asked, tone cautious. It was hard to get a read on what he was really feeling. Was he annoyed with the questions? Pleased to talk to Luke? Luke couldn't tell. And he really wanted to say, "leaving me." Or "leaving mom" or something like that, to get his father to confess. Confess to what, Luke didn't know. Either that Hermes didn't really care about Luke. Or that he did. Luke chickened out, in the end.

"The lightning…did it hurt?"

"Yes," Hermes answered simply.

"But you're a god," Luke said. "Do gods feel things the same?" And Luke himself couldn't have said if he meant pain or…or other kinds of feelings.

"Luke…" Hermes said slowly, "lightning hurts. I can take more abuse than a mortal but…it still hurts. Every time."

"Your own father hurt you," Luke pointed out. "And he didn't care."

He wasn't sure what his point was. Maybe he just wanted to see a real reaction from his father. Something to prove he had feelings that could be hurt. It was cruel and unfair, but… Hermes had abandoned him. Luke had run away as a nine-year-old child, and lived on the streets. Because his mother, a woman Hermes supposedly must have liked at least a bit for Luke to exist, was insane. And Hermes never came. Being cruel felt…fair.

Hermes stared down at Luke as if Luke were an enigma. There was depth to Hermes' eyes, maybe pain, maybe something else.

"I am not my father," Hermes finally answered, as if he could hear every unsaid accusation. He reached down and placed a hand on Luke's shoulder. It felt heavy and warm. Hermes' eyes bored into him. "I am not my father," he repeated.

Around them, wild music raved and people danced and feasted and rejoiced as the longest night moved ever closer to the dawn.