A/N: Some of the dialogue in this chapter come from Percy's flashbacks in The Last Olympian. Others are from Annabeth's flashbacks from my own Daughter of Wisdom series.

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Part 2: Luke

[Undated entry, c. May 2000, about a week after the death of Halcyon Green.]

I don't know why I'm bothering to write about this. Maybe because I promised Hal. Maybe because I'll go crazy otherwise, just sitting here thinking about it. Either way, I need to get it out of my system. I can tell Annabeth is scared, and I could kick myself for that.

I knew I shouldn't have gone home.

It was the damned dragons. Thalia and I are used to losing safe houses by now, so the dragons burning it—and our supplies—down wasn't so much the problem. But Thalia's leg ... it was in bad shape.

If only it had been on my watch. But by the time Annabeth woke me up, one of the dragons had already thwacked Thalia with its spiked tail.

I should have taken better care of them.

Anyway, we had no supplies, and Thalia could barely walk. She tried to downplay it, but I was practically carrying her. Besides, we didn't

And we were in Connecticut.

Home, if I can even call it that after all this time, was the obvious answer.

I didn't want to. I hadn't been back in five years. I'll admit I think about my mom from time to time, but all the crazy talk and the warnings of doom ... what would Thalia think? And Annabeth—I didn't want to terrify her. But what choice did we have?

I led them into the woods bordering Westport. My mom lives in this big white house at the bottom of a ridge. It'd be a decent place if she hadn't made it out like a shrine to Hermes—the jerk who left her in her messed-up state without a second thought.

I figured it'd be quick: in and out, a thirty-second stealth job. Knowing my mom, I doubted she'd have changed the layout inside. It should be easy for me to find things. Besides, what else is a son of Hermes good for if not thievery? (Don't answer that.)

'I'll just sneak in and grab some food and meds,' I told the girl. 'Wait here.'

Thalia frowned. I hadn't shared the extent of my mom's craziness in our tête-à-têtes—the many commiserating tales we'd shared in the down times when we weren't busy fighting for our lives (because monsters aside, we had it so great). But she knew how much I hated my house.

'Luke, are you sure? You swore you'd never come back here. If she catches you—'

'We don't have a choice. They burned our nearest safe house,' I reminded her. 'And you've got to treat that leg wound.'

Annabeth gazed at the whitewashed walls of my mom's house. 'This is your house?'

'It was my house,' I corrected. 'Believe me, if it wasn't an emergency ...'

'Is your mom really horrible?' Annabeth was wide-eyed with fascination. 'Can we see her?'

'No!' It was the first time I'd ever raised my voice at her, and I regretted it instantly when she shrank back.

Thalia gave me a reproachful look.

'I—I'm sorry,' I said. 'Just wait here. I promise everything will be okay. Nothing's going to hurt you. I'll be back—'

But my plan was turned upside down before I could even execute it. A golden light glowed over the trees. For a second, I thought it was the dragons, come back for a second round. Then the voice boomed through the woods: 'You should never have come home.'

Even though I would have sworn I'd never heard this voice before, it still sounded intimately familiar, like a lost memory I didn't even know I had. It also left an acrid taste in my mouth, like I'd been forced to swallow a cloud of ash.

Figures, the first words I ever heard from my deadbeat dad were telling me I didn't have a home.

The divine asshole himself materialised on the ridge. He wasn't at all like how I'd pictured him. My mom had spent most of my life cutting out pictures of Hermes from old mythology books and art gallery brochures. This guy definitely didn't look like their artistic renditions of a Greek god. He had curly, salt-and-pepper hair and a smooth, youthful face with slanting blue eyes like mine, which I hated. I didn't want to share any features with the jerk.

He was also dressed in modern clothing—a navy blue track suit and matching Reeboks. Which was a good thing, I guess. A lot of the pictures my mom cut out wore strikingly little, if anything at all. I already wasn't thrilled to see my dad. I wanted even less to see him in the nude.

Hermes studied me like I was a code he was trying to crack, which pissed me off even more. When I was younger, I used to imagine what it might be like to meet the guy. I'd think about all the things I'd say, like what his deal was, leaving my mom and me when we needed him the most. Or why he'd never even dropped us a line all these years. I was the one he'd totally let down. So where did he get off, staring at me like I'd messed everything up?

Hal's stupid prophecy ran through my head. I pushed it aside. That had nothing to do with the gods.

'It's none of your business what I do,' I said.

'Luke,' Thalia said nervously. She had her arm around Annabeth, as much to comfort her as to support her injured leg, I guess.

Hermes finally looked away from me, and studied the girls. I had the sudden urge to shield them from his gaze. I didn't like the spark of recognition in his eyes when he looked at Thalia. Did he know who she was? Probably. I guess technically, they were siblings, but I didn't really want to think about that. It's weird to consider that your best friend might be your aunt. Besides, do the gods even have DNA? It's not like they pass us that ichor stuff that's in their veins.

Okay, now I'm thinking about how the gods even do it with mortals. Gross.

Hermes's mouth tightened. He nodded to Thalia. 'You'd better come in, then. Someone should see to that leg.'

He didn't even acknowledge Annabeth's presence—just like the arrogant jerk—but she spoke up anyway. 'Are you Luke's dad?'

Hermes frowned at her, as if wondering what she was doing with us. I put my hand on her shoulder, ready to pull her behind me if he made any sudden movements. But he just sighed, like I was some big disappointment. Wings sprouted from his Reeboks. He floated down the path before us. I guess walking was for lesser mortals.

I hadn't seen my mom in five years, but she'd barely changed. A few more wrinkles, more grey in her hair, maybe. I hoped she wouldn't have one of her fits in front of the girls. I didn't know how she'd react to Hermes's sudden appearance, but she acted like it was a completely normal occurrence. (Then again, she also thought it was completely normal for a person to glow green and spew smoke.)

'Hermes!' she greeted him cheerfully, as if he'd come home at the end of the work day instead of after a fourteen-year absence. Maybe she'd gone so far off the deep end that she thought her little paper cut-out Hermeses were the actual thing. 'You brought my boy home!'

I couldn't escape the hug she smothered me in. Partly because Hermes prodded me in the back with that stick of his. She smelt like she always had, like burnt pastries. I was taller than her now, but she still managed to practically suffocate me.

'I told them you'd be back! I said, my poor Luke, not his fate, he'll come back, you'll see.'

I extracted myself from her arms. Thalia gave me a sympathetic look.

'Yes, May,' Hermes said heavily. 'Luke's friends need help. Can you take the girls while I talk to him?'

She led the way into the house, chattering away to invisible people as she went. I'd never been able to work out who she thought they were.

Thalia and Annabeth looked uncertainly at me.

'Go with her,' I said. 'She'll have food.' Hopefully edible. 'And she can help you bandage that leg, Thalia.'

'But—' Thalia glanced between me and Hermes. I could tell she was nervous about leaving me alone with him.

'I'll be fine,' I promised. A talk with the guy was long overdue, anyway. I had a bone—a whole skeleton, actually—to pick with him.

The girls followed my mom into the kitchen. Hermes and I stayed in the living room. Like the rest of the house, it hadn't changed much since I'd left. Mirrors and candles were everywhere, illuminating the bronze figurines, paper cut-outs, and cherubic angel statues of Hermes. The one new addition was a framed picture on the mantle. My own face stared back at me, gap-toothed and grinning. My hair was cut in that uneven, patchy way that made it look like my head had been thatched. That had been before I'd learned to take care of it myself. I'd run away not long after that.

My mom had put my picture in the centre of all her best Hermes sculptures, the main focus of the mantle. Like a tribute to a dead child. It threw me so badly, I almost forgot Hermes himself was still in the room. Until he spoke.

'Here.' He reached into the pockets of his jogging suit and handed me a long, flat package, like a candy bar. Ambrosia.

I guess I should have thanked him, but I wasn't in a particularly thankful mood. His divine intervention would have been a lot more helpful before the dragons had torched our hideout.

Although he'd said he wanted to talk to me, he fell silent. He leaned back, surveying me in the same disconcerting, puzzling way.

I crossed my arms and stared back at him. I'm not sure how long we stood like that, sizing each other up. The mirrors on the walls made it seem like there were ten thousand duplicates of us, father and son pairs growing smaller and smaller in each reflection. The candlelight wavered over Hermes's face, making it even harder to judge his expression.

'What are you doing here?' I said at last. 'Why show yourself now? All these years I've been calling to you, praying you'd show up, and nothing. You left me with her.'

I pointed through the kitchen door, where my mother had just given a beanbag Medusa doll to Annabeth—one of the countless creepy toys she'd knit for me over the years, like seriously, who gave Greek monsters to young kids? To her credit, Annabeth wasn't fazed by the doll's monstrous hair or crossed-out face.

Hermes's face darkened. 'Luke, do not dishonour her. Your mother did the best she could.' His gaze shifted to the framed photo of my nine-year-old self on the mantle. 'As for me, I could not interfere with your path. The children of the gods must find their own way.'

The taste of copper stung my mouth. 'So it was for my own good. Growing up on the streets, fending for myself, fighting monsters.'

'You're my son,' Hermes said. 'I knew you had the ability. When I was only a baby, I crawled from my cradle and set out for—'

As if our situations were comparable. 'I'm not a god! Just once, you could have said something. You could've helped when—' I bit my tongue so hard, I tasted blood. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw both Thalia's and Annabeth's heads jerk up. I lowered my voice, but the words spilt out fast and furious, as if now that I'd started, I simply couldn't stop. 'When she was having one of her fits, shaking me and saying crazy things about my fate. When I used to hide in the closet so she wouldn't find me with those ... those glowing eyes. Did you even care that I was scared? Did you even know when I finally ran away?'

I couldn't look at him. Annabeth stared at me through the kitchen door. She had a charred black cookie in her hands. Her mouth formed the words, Can we go now?

'Luke, I care very much,' Hermes said, 'but gods must not interfere directly in mortal affairs. It is one of our Ancient Laws. Especially when your destiny ...'

It was as if all the candles had been extinguished, plunging me into cold darkness. Your choices will change the world, Hal had said.

'What? What about my destiny?'

Hermes closed his eyes, almost like he was praying. Though to who, I couldn't imagine. 'You should not have come back. It only upsets you both. However, I see now that you are getting too old to be on the run without help. I'll speak with Chiron at Camp Half-Blood and ask him to send a satyr to collect you.'

None of this made any sense to me. Chiron? Camp Half-Blood? The name sounded vaguely familiar—an old trainer of heroes? The centaur that had taught demigods like Theseus, and Achilles, and Aeneas, maybe. But I resented the implication in Hermes's words, like I was a wayward kid who needed to be picked up and ferried off to be disciplined or something.

'We're doing fine without your help,' I snapped. 'Now what were you saying about my destiny?'

Hermes scrutinised me, as if he were trying to read my future in the contours of my face. 'My son. I'm the god of travellers, the god of roads. If I know anything, I know that you must walk your own path, even though it tears my heart.'

My son. Maybe once, like when I'd stood in this room watching my mom light the candles and chant crazy shit with green smoke pouring out of her mouth, I'd have been grateful for him to show up and say those two words to me. Now, it just left a bitter taste in my mouth.

'You don't love me.'

'I promise I ... I do love you.'

It might be more convincing if he hadn't hesitated. Maybe.

'Go to camp,' he said. 'I will see that you get a quest soon. Perhaps you can defeat the hydra, or steal the apples of Hesperides. You will get a chance to be a great hero before ...'

There it was again. That hesitation, that hint that something dark and dangerous lurked in my future. My photo on the mantle suddenly seemed like a bad omen. Why had my mom put it there? Did it have anything to do with her fits, and that ominous 'fate' she always talked about seeing?

'Before what?' I demanded. 'What did my mom see that made her like this? What's going to happen to me? If you love me, tell me.'

'I cannot.'

'Then you don't care!'

There was silence. The candle nearest to me fluttered out.

'Luke? Is that you?' My mom's voice wavered. 'Is my boy all right?'

My vision went blurry. I looked down. The wings of Hermes's Reeboks were still, hovering inches above the ground.

I cleared my throat. 'I'm fine. I have a new family. I don't need either of you.'

'I'm your father.'

'A father is supposed to be around,' I hissed. 'I've never even met you.' Anger spilled tight and hot into my stomach. I couldn't stay here any longer, not with Hermes pretending he gave a shit, while dangling those awful hints about my future.

'Thalia, Annabeth, come on!' I yelled. 'We're leaving.'

I didn't wait to see if they were following. I turned my back on my—on Hermes, and stalked out the door. My mom called after me, but the rushing in my ears was so loud, I couldn't hear what she said.

I was halfway up the hill into the woods before I became aware that Thalia was shouting my name. She and Annabeth were stumbling after me, slowed by her injured leg. I didn't stop. I had a desperate need to put as much distance as possible between me and that house. Like if I just got far enough from it, I could escape the awful predictions Hermes and Hal had made.

'Luke!' Thalia yelled. 'Damn it, Luke, stop!'

Annabeth screamed, 'Luke!'

Her terrified voice jolted me to my senses. I turned around. Both girls were sprawled on the ground. Thalia glared at me. Annabeth's face glistened with tears.

I ran to them, my anger concentrating into a dull thud of remorse. 'Hey,' I said, kneeling next to them. Annabeth's breath came out in ragged sobs that made me feel like a complete jerk. 'No, Annabeth, don't—I'm sorry, okay?'

She sniffed and dragged her sleeve across her face. 'Are you mad at us?'

'No, no! It's—look, I'm sorry, I just ... my parents are kinda ... it just got to me. I'm not mad at you, Annabeth, I promise.'

Thalia punched me in the arm, like way to go, genius. 'Jeez, Luke, I get that you've got issues with family—heck, we all do—but chill out, man, okay?'

'Sorry. I wasn't thinking.' I helped them to their feet and gave Thalia the ambrosia Hermes had offloaded. I suppose it had been his idea of a peace offering. 'Here. I scored some off my dad. I should have given it to you before we left.'

'You're an idiot,' Thalia said, but she unwrapped the bar and nibbled at the square.

'Is it candy?' Annabeth asked. She was still clinging to my hand.

'No, it's ambrosia. Food of the gods. Sorry, Annabeth, you can't have any unless you're injured. It might make you burn up otherwise.'

'S'okay,' she said. 'That was your dad? Hermes?'

My mouth went dry. Thalia's eyes darted to me.

'Yeah,' she said when I didn't answer. 'Don't ask, okay, Annabeth? Luke's ... sad.'

Annabeth squeezed my hand, which was some small comfort. I remembered the promise I'd made her—to be her family now. What a bang-up job I was doing.

'Come on,' I said. 'I've had enough of Connecticut.'

We walked for hours, heading for the state border. Annabeth tired after a while, but I didn't want to stop, so I piggybacked her. I wasn't sure where we were heading. New York, maybe. That seemed as good a destination as any.

'What did Hermes tell you?' Thalia asked.

'Nothing important.' I told her some of it, like the stuff about Chiron and a camp. If he was really going to send a messenger after us, Thalia deserved to know.

'Was that all?' Thalia probed.

I grit my teeth. I didn't want to talk about this bit. 'He knows something and he won't tell me.'

'Maybe he really can't,' Thalia said. 'There are rules—'

'The gods make the rules,' I pointed out. 'He just doesn't care.'

Thalia was silent for a while. Then she said, 'The place he talked about ... that camp place.'

'I don't want to go.'

'It might be safe, though. Aren't you tired of running around aimlessly? There's more monsters every day. And now we have Annabeth ...'

Annabeth's head lolled against me. Her weight on my back was a reminder of the responsibility we'd taken on. That I'd taken on. 'I just don't trust the guy. All the stuff about going to camp, being a hero. I should believe it, just because my dad, who never showed up a day in my life, suddenly thinks I ought to go and be a hero?'

Thalia grew quiet again. 'Don't do it for him, then. Be a hero because you are one.'

I guess that's just it. Whatever I choose to do, it'll be for them—Thalia and Annabeth. If I'm going to be a hero, I've got to be better than all the ones in the stories, because I've got something better than the gods to fight for.

I must have been writing for a few hours by now. I'll have to wake Thalia soon for guard duty—I'm ready to collapse. I'm not sure writing's really made me feel any better. All that stuff Hal said about helping me to see the right decisions ... I don't see it at all. I just see Thalia, and Annabeth, and all I know is that this is my family, and I need to keep them safe. I won't be like my dad. It's my job to take care of them. I'm gonna hunt down every monster I can find. That's what the gods should have done for us.

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[undated entry, about a week after the last]

I know I promised Hal, but I can't write any more. It's too painful to describe what happened. The Furies, the hellhounds ... Thalia ...

How could he? How could Hermes send us here and let this happen? How could Zeus do this to his own daughter?

I don't need to write it down to remember it. I could never forget this.

Hal was right about her sacrifice. So what did he see about me?

You know what? It doesn't matter. I don't care if I betray anyone else. I promise I will never betray Thalia. I will make the gods pay for what they did to her. And I'm going to make sure Annabeth never suffers the same fate.

THE END

(Or the beginning ...)

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A/N: One thing that came of writing Daughter of Wisdom was how many untold stories there were in PJO. Annabeth's story was what caught me, but Annabeth's story turned out to be also Thalia's story, and also Luke's. This was already clear from the first DoW fic, in which the flashback scene that I've provided Luke's PoV of in this chapter first appeared (and can I say, it's a little disconcerting to do an alternate-PoV of my own fic). When it came time to bring Luke's backstory properly into DoW, The Diary of Luke Castellan called out to me because it really tied them together, and to the intriguing new character of Hal. I started writing this 'diary' because I (and by proxy, Annabeth) needed to know Luke's role in the prophecy, and that became Hal's role in their story—and that became the beast of a fic that is now The Final Sacrifice. I hope you've enjoyed reading more of the backstory!