UNEDITED
ogygia, 2015
Luke walked back to his cave, thinking about all that had happened in the past few days. It was very eventful. Then he stopped in the middle of his garden. Something was different. The irritating clicking, the clicking from his fountain that sat in the middle of the flowers- had stopped. Luke sat on the marble around the fountain, listening intently. It had stopped. Also, all the Greek statues in the garden were upright and not crumbling anymore. The oblique rod that held up his curtains- was now level. Luke's rusty old gardening spears were now gleaming.
Who fixed this? Luke thought to himself in wonder. He concluded that Michael had worked wonders. The blonde chuckled, Michael was so strange. Luke scolded himself for thinking fondly of the revolting boy.
Luke looked at himself in the cool waters of the fountain. He looked tired- not like the god he once was. He looked like a young, immature boy. Luke could tell that after this visit he would never be the same again, but he didn't know why.
He knew nothing about Michael, who was he to judge? Luke's became curious. He wanted to know all about the green-haired adolescent.
He waved his tan hand over the fountain, and the crystal water shimmered, an image appearing. Through this fountain Luke could see the past. Not the present or the future; just the past. Luke didn't find it that useful. It only came in handy when he had visitors.
Finally an image appeared. A little boy was in a machine shop, and a woman, possibly his mother, stood at a bench nearby. The door read, Clifford House of Repair. His family must be mechanics, Luke thought. That explained why all her things were fixed.
"Mikey," she said adoringly, "Can you please get me the screwdriver?"
"Yes Mama," Michael replied.
Luke smiled as he ran on his short little legs, to grab the tool. Michael had to be no more than four years old in this memory
The image distorted, changing again.
Michael was in the machine shop again, at about the age of eight. But the scene was so much different. Flames, they licked the walls. Tenderly they turned to dust; all that Michael adored. Michael screamed, banging on the workshop wall, yelling for his mother. The police had to drag the poor boy out of his buring house. His mother was trapped. Luke felt an unexplainable surge of anger rise up inside him. Michael's mother was dead.
Luke watched, as Michael moved from foster home to foster home, running away each time. He must be so broken, Luke thought. But he certainly hid it well. He laughed and joked, attempting to evade those who would hurt him, and only let his feelings show on his face when he was alone.
The magic fixated on a specific moment in Michael's life. He was at another foster home, curled up into a ball. His cheek was gushing blood.
"You worthless piece of shit! I asked you to get me a beer!" A deep voice yelled.
"I- I did, there was no more left in the cooler Mr. Shapiro." Michael gulped, "Y-you drank them all."
A sharp foot was shot into Michaels chest, and he fell to the floor.
Luke waved his hand over the pond, making the scene change. He couldn't watch that memory anymore.
The water flickered to moments Michael and Calum's friendship. Luke hated seeing Calum's face after everything, but the two boys were like brothers. It was nice to see a happy memory. Luke skipped over the parts where Michael got drunk himself and went to bars to have sex. Luke didn't like those. The clothes Michael wore were queer. His trousers were made from some sort of rough, blue material, and over a white shirt, he wore a jacket with a strange pattern. It was like a blotchy pattern, in varying shades of green and brown. Luke wondered briefly if it could disguise you if you tried to hide. Luke dismissed the idea quickly, because mortals couldn't use magic, so it wouldn't work.
The memory's stopped when Michael was magically whisked away at the wedding reception. Suddenly, Luke felt less angry. Michael had never intended to come here. Michael wanted to leave. Luke decided might as well help Michael do so, if he ever found a way.
YOU ARE READING
calypso/muke
Fanfic"don't give me an empty promise." "how about a full one?" - or in which luke is a son of the titan atlas punished to live on a island for the rest of his life.
