Betrayed But Never Forgotten

We bond, I think

Lukes pov

      

When I walked into the bedroom, I expected to see Percy destroying everything – you know, the normal thing to do when you're furious – but he was just sitting on his bed, silently twirling his ring that transformed into Nightmare, his sword. The eerie calm was somehow more unsettling than any outburst would have been. His green eyes looked almost black in the dim light, reflecting none of their usual vibrance or life.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice hollow, not even bothering to look up at me. The room felt unnaturally cold, as if his mood had physically affected the temperature.

I sat next to him on the bed, the mattress barely dipping under my weight. "I wanted to see if you were okay?" The question hung in the air, both of us knowing it was ridiculous – of course he wasn't okay. None of us had been okay for years.

Percy rolled his eyes, a bitter smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I heard you guys," he said, his fingers never stopping their nervous movement on the ring. "You're trying to convince me to go show my identity so they can betray us again. You guys weren't exactly whispering." His words carried the weight of old wounds, still raw and bleeding after all this time.

I brought my palm to my face, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks. We were loud now that I thought about it. The others probably heard every word of our argument, another crack in our already fragile facade of unity.

"If you don't go, they will expect something," I pleaded, trying to make him understand the stakes. "We need to have everyone here on our side. This mission is too important for personal vendettas." Even as I said it, I knew how callous it sounded – dismissing years of pain as a mere personal grudge.

He groaned and laid back on the bed, his face turned toward the ceiling, where shadows seemed to gather and writhe in response to his mood. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken memories of betrayal and exile.

"Why should I be civil when they aren't?" Percy finally stated, his voice barely above a whisper. The question wasn't really meant for me – it was the same one he'd been asking himself for years, with no satisfactory answer.

I leaned closer, trying to catch his gaze. "We're part of the Chaos warriors," I reminded him gently. "You're Chaos's son. I think that the second most powerful person in the Universe can handle some demigods and the Gods." I tried to inject some humor into my voice, but it fell flat in the oppressive atmosphere of the room.

Percy ran his hands through his midnight black hair – darker now than it had ever been at Camp Half-Blood – and sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of all his years in exile. "If I have to go, then you're being stuck going too," he said, his tone suddenly resolute.

I put my hand in a defense position and jumped to my feet, alarm bells ringing in my head. 

"That's not what I meant!" I tried running out the door before I was sealed to do something I'd regret, but before I could take two steps, I was encased with shadows – cold, writhing darkness that wrapped around me like living restraints.

"Percy! Let go of me this instant!" I shouted as I was spun around to face him. He was up now, standing just two feet away, his eyes glowing with an unnatural light in the darkness he commanded. The shadows constricted slightly, a gentle reminder of just how powerful he'd become.

"You're going, and you're not going to complain. Got it?" Percy said, deadly calm, his voice barely audible over the sound of my pounding heart. There was no anger in his tone – just cold, implacable determination that brooked no argument.

I nodded my head angrily, feeling trapped not just by his shadows, but by the impossible situation we'd all found ourselves in. The darkness receded, slithering back to the corners of the room like obedient pets.

"Are you happy now?" I asked him, rubbing my arms where the shadows had gripped me, trying to chase away the lingering chill.

"No," Percy said, his expression unreadable, "but satisfied." Before I could respond, he melted away into the shadows, becoming one with the darkness in a way that still unnerved me, even after all these years.

I slowly backed out of the door and into the living space, feeling emotionally drained from the encounter. The others looked up expectantly as I entered, hope and apprehension mingling on their faces.

"Did you convince him?" Annabeth asked, her gray eyes searching my face for any sign of success. The others leaned forward, tension visible in every line of their bodies.

"In a way," I mumbled, collapsing onto the couch next to Claire. "Let's just say I'm stuck coming along too." Claire patted my arm sympathetically, but said nothing – what was there to say? We were all prisoners of our past, of decisions made long ago by those who'd claimed to love us.

As I sat there, surrounded by my fellow exiles, I couldn't help but wonder if this meeting would heal old wounds or just tear them open again. Percy's darkness seemed to be growing stronger every day, feeding on his resentment and pain. What would happen when he finally came face to face with those who'd driven us away? The thought made my stomach twist with dread.

I glanced at Piper, who was staring out the window, her kaleidoscope eyes distant. She'd forgiven them too, or at least she claimed she had – but I sometimes caught glimpses of the same hurt and betrayal that consumed Percy, just better hidden. We were all damaged in our own ways, carrying scars that never seemed to fully heal.

Tonight would be a reckoning – for all of us. As the afternoon light began to fade, casting long shadows across the floor, I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever happened at Zeus's Fist would change everything. Again.

"Tonight will be awesome," I muttered sarcastically, "Not." Piper squeezed my hand, offering silent support. We sat there in tense silence, watching the shadows lengthen, each lost in our own thoughts and memories of what we'd lost – and what we might lose again.