Luke (sequel to 'Say You'll Remember Me')

Chapter 4 Percy

Ever since Luke figured out he was different, he had always imagined how his future would be. He would listen to the other kids in his class -though at this point, it was mostly just the girls still doing it- talk about how they were going to grow up and get married. They would play pretend,  acting like a family, occasionally roping an unsuspecting boy to be the patriarch of their ever shifting clan -not that his position held any power in the game dominated by his overzealous female peers. Luke was never this boy. He didn't want to be. He didn't want a wife, even before he was aware that he could ever be married to a boy, he didn't want one. So he sat there, by himself, every day in school. Too different from the boys in his class to be included in their rowdy fun, but not similar enough to want to partake in the activities of the  female half of the class. He didn't know how his future was going to turn out, or what it would look like, but he had hope that it would get better. And, in shorter amount of time that he thought, it did.

After he Thalia got over the loss of Annabeth, he found a happiness at the camp, or at least something that resembled it. He was old enough to know what it took to fit in, and here no one knew him from before, not even Thalia knew everything. He could be whoever he wanted at this place. So he changed, on the outside at least. He tried his best to be social, partaking in every event he could, volunteering, and going out of his way to talk to anyone that would let him. Sure, he wasn't always comfortable, and there were things he didn't want to do, but at least he wasn't alone here.

A stark contrast between camp and home -though definitely not a negative one- was that no one judged him for being gay. The year leading up to his running away, Luke had heard his classmates beginning to gain their attitudes towards people like him. Slurs were being spread around, passed down by students in higher grades, older siblings, or sometimes even parents. It was a situation that was approaching its boiling point, and fast.

At camp though, he didn't have to hide himself. Sure he never tried to get a boyfriend -he was eleven for Pete's sake, he didn't even know what that kind of commitment would mean- but he never denied the facts. And at this place, this refuge, no one cared. He never knew why, maybe it was a part of their shared Greek heritage, maybe it was that everyone here knew what it felt like to be different.

Luke's joy plateaued for a few years, never wavering, until it began to drop. He was entering that stage of adolescence that everyone goes through, when they begin getting their romantic interests. Once again, the question of his future was brought up in his head. What would it look like? Would he still be here, at camp, or will he have moved off? Would he actually find someone that he wanted to spend his life with? Obviously, in the back of his mind, Luke knew that this was silly, he was far too young to be worrying about these things, but at night, surrounded by the chaos if his siblings, he was helpless to keep the thoughts from invading. After a while, he thought that he was destined to be alone, that he would never find someone that he wanted to be with, someone to love. How wrong he was.

Percy Jackson was the best person Luke had ever had the pleasure of knowing. The boy was kind, thoughtful, and loyal; Luke had known the boy for only a few days before he knew that he had never felt this way about another person in his life. He wanted to spend all of his time with Percy, to comfort him when the loss of his mother hit him, to protect him from the camp bullies like Clarisse. How ecstatic he had been that first night in the Poseidon cabin when he and Percy had fallen asleep together. Of course, that feeling would never compare to how he felt when Percy had said that he loved him, just a few weeks later. But how was he supposed to tell Percy that he had loved him from the moment he had set eyes on him? Looking back on it, he wished he had. He wished he had said so many more times, that he had shouted it from the rooftops, that he had written it across the sky in Randy's fucking airplane. But even that wasn't the truth. If he had known how quickly it would all end, if it could kept Percy from giving up his life, would Luke have never said it at all, never done any of what he did? He probably wouldn't have.

But how was he supposed to know that it would end that way. With the loss of pure soul, leaving only the shattered remains of another. But Luke was selfish, he wanted to be with Percy, and perhaps, he had set up situations to convince Percy that he felt the same. They always said that the wicked get punished in the end, but look who died and who was left; maybe death got his names mixed up. No matter how much joy those few weeks had given him, Like would have gladly given it all up if meant that Percy wouldn't have sacrificed himself.

The pain Luke felt while reading Percy's letter was indescribable, he knew he could live a million lifetimes and never feel the  same pain, the same guilt. Because, deep down, Luke knew, that if he had just waited to make a move, Percy would have been the one who lived.

Yes, how bittersweet it was, he had met the one person who he loved and wanted to be with, and it was all his fault that he died.