Dear Luke

One late, lonely night at camp, Percy stumbles upon something of Annabeth's while wandering through her cabin. It's a tear-stained letter from two summers back, carefully hidden under her sheets. Thing is, it's not for him.

Percy Jackson crossed his arms, staring gloomily out at the campfire only a few yards away from his hiding spot behind a tree. Normally he would have loved to join in with the happy, festive singing and story-telling, but tonight he felt different. Lonely, but not in a miserable way – almost like he wanted to be alone, take the night to just be by himself.

Staring up at the winking stars, he made his way, by memory, to the beach, where the sound of the crackling fire and camp sing-alongs were replaced by the peaceful, rhythmic lap of waves breaking against the shore. He had a strange feeling in his gut, like something was going to happen, but the atmosphere was far too relaxed for an approaching fight. Perhaps a discovery, or the return of the one who was probably causing this solitary mood of his – Annabeth Chase. Curse her stupid architecture school and their late summer vacations, he thought, kicking a pebble into the water.

He stood there, hands in his pockets, for at least five minutes, looking at the sea but not really seeing it. He was lost in thought – or, more precisely, lost in the past. Even after so long, he never really felt secure about the relationship he was in, seeing as Annabeth had refused to talk about a certain son of Hermes with him for the first few months, and he was afraid to bring it up afterwards, knowing how much pain it caused her.

What did she mean, she didn't love him? Of course she loved Luke – maybe as a brother, but that was still a kind of love. And if he was still alive, would she choose Luke over him? Was he really only destined for the 'best friend' role, forced into 'boyfriend' because the real knight in shining armor had turned?

Whatever the case, he wasn't going to get any answers here. Turning his back on the ocean, he began to walk aimlessly, still staring at the stars. He spotted the constellations – Hercules, the Dippers, and the Huntress. After a minute or two he bumped into something solid, and looking up he realized where he was.

The Athena cabin towered above him, the marble door ajar. He pushed it open, only to be greeted by the dark, empty interior. Without thinking, he took a step inside, and flipped the light switch. Immediately, the room was bathed in a yellow glow, and he was momentarily blind as his eyes adjusted to the light.

Notes had been scattered everywhere. A laptop was running in the corner, hooked up to the huge SmartScreen, which had dimmed in standby. All the beds were messy and had been very obviously slept in, except for one. Percy walked towards it.

It was perfectly made, the grey blanket tucked carefully into the sides, and when Percy took a deep breath, he noted it smelt faintly like lemons. There was a small alcove in the wall, where Annabeth had stashed a notebook, blueprints, and some pens. Right by the pillow, a photo of them had been taped to the wall. He was lying on the grass, hands behind his head, and she was sitting by him, smiling and running a hand through his hair. A date was printed on it in her handwriting, squished into the white clouds as to not ruin the image. The sight of it made his heart sink even lower. Was he truly making her happy, or could the other have done a better job?

He was about to leave when he noticed something odd. A fold of white was sticking out of her beige sheets, looking very much like an envelope, or a piece of paper. Sure enough, when he sauntered over and pulled it out, he was greeted with an old, crinkled letter, dated two summers back, just before the Titan War. His interest piqued, he seated himself on the bed below and unfolded the paper. The first thing he noted was the tear-stains all over it, blurring the writing in some places. No doubt the handwriting was Annabeth's, though. His heart began to beat a little faster. Was this some sort of message to him that she had never sent?

His stomach sunk when he read the first line.

Dear Luke,

So much for that.

You're not going to read this, and you probably never will. I'm never going to send this to you, and it's not like I know where you are, anyway, so it hardly matters.

You hurt me, Luke. I bet you know that much already. But you'll never know how much. You'll never know how much I looked up to you, how much I relied on you, and how much I really needed you.

Percy clenched his fist, crinkling the paper even more. So she had cared about him in that way, then. Enough to want him. Enough to need him. Enough to love him?

I was only twelve. Only twelve and trying to find my place in this world when you ripped it all down. You shattered my world to pieces, because you were the only thing that had ever been there for me. Always, no matter what, I had you. And then you were gone, and I was left with nothing. Thalia was gone, too. My family was lost forever. I was alone. Alone with a clumsy son of Poseidon who had no idea what he was doing and I sure as Hades couldn't rely on.

His stomach started churning, doing weird flips, and not the kind like when Annabeth was around. This was different. This was against whatever she had said to him.

And I needed you, Luke. I needed you then, but you never came.

I got to know this boy who I had always judged, and realized he wasn't half bad. No, he wasn't someone to share secrets with or rely on, but yes, a friend. That's it. I said I'd never need someone like I did you again. I reasoned that that way, I would never have to repeat the pain.

But I did. I did start to trust him, to talk to him, to rely on him, to count that he would always be there. And my mother accused me of losing my mind for trusting him, of all people, but for some reason I didn't care. And that scared me, Luke, and I needed you to tell me that it would be alright. But you never did.

Then you took me. YOU caused me more pain than anyone else in this world. You were once my savior, and you turned into my captor. And STILL I believed in you. Why, I have no idea. Maybe I was hoping you would still be my hero, and cut my binds when their backs were turned. I needed you to come for me, Luke, but you just stood and watched. And he saved me instead. For some reason I knew he would. Because for the first time since you were gone, I had someone I could trust with my life. Because I knew he would always be there, even if he had to go through hell and back. And he did, every time. Because he was…Percy.

He smiled at that, the corners of his lips tugging up and a faint sparkle lighting up his sea green eyes.

You had been on the front of my mind all the time. But then I started to think of someone else as well. And if you were there, maybe things would have been different, Luke, but you weren't. So I realized I was fantasizing about sea green eyes rather than blue ones.

Still…you probably would have won if it wasn't for the Labyrinth. For the first time I realized what you had become. I had always believed you would come back. But when I saw blue go gold, that's when I felt like I had lost you forever. And then I almost lost him.

That's when I realized. It hurt more that I would never see Seaweed Brain again than the fact that you might never come back to us, to me. Maybe it was because he would never do what you did. Maybe it was because he was frustrating, annoying, and I was completely and unavoidably falling for him. Or maybe it was because he was the first thing I ever had that had the slightest chance at being permanent.

You never were, Luke. I thought you would stand by me forever, and we had something built to last. I thought we were inseparable, a family, like you always said, and that I could always count on you to be there. I still think we would have had that if they hadn't persuaded you, if you had seen who your true friends were. It's too late to go back and contemplate what could have been. I made my choice…

He squinted at the page. The next few words were so badly smeared with tears it was illegible. He swore under his breath. What choice? Who did she choose? Did she still want Luke? Or did she love him?

He would never know – but he guessed he had to have the same trust in her that she had in him, that she would be there, that she did care about him, and they had made something permanent. After all, he did all those things for her, and like she said, they were the things Luke didn't. He would just have to take her word for it.

He placed the sheets of paper on her bed and slowly walked out the door. Sparks from the dying fire had been scattered through the air, and they flew past now, their glow dying as they blew towards the ocean. A breeze had started up, the smell of salt and brine drifting up from the coast. Percy put a hand on his cabin's doorknob, and turned.

Behind him, where he couldn't see, the letter, picked up by the wind, floated towards the sea. Each one blew softly towards the water, and landed in the blue depths, submerging until they were gone.

The last to go was the faded, smudged line at the end of the letter, right above her signature. It slipped slowly into the turquoise folds, and was no more.

And it's him, Luke. Not you.

~End~