A Hero's Tears

More Coffee!

Luke had one of the worst nights that night. He didn't fall asleep until four in the morning, and was woken two hours later by some other campers taking refuge in the Morpheus cabin who were waking up. One of them accidentally stepped on Luke as they were wading through the bodies to the door, causing him to jolt up, breathless, glaring at the kid, who apologized profusely.

I'm definitely going to need coffee... he thought as he gathered his stuff. He decided to just go ahead and leave, maybe even see if the coffee shop's open. He's only got one drachma, but that's all he needs.

He stealthily made his way to the door, avoiding stepping on anyone, and started towards the coffee shop. He let out a mighty, cat-like yawn as he walked through the thin sheet of snow to his destination.

Maybe they have breakfast stuff, too... he thought hopefully. Wait... Last drachma... Shit.

As he walked, he couldn't help but notice the mess the parties left. Some cabins, like Ares, seem to have been egged, but there was green goop where the yolk would usually be. Another cabin seem to have been charred, and Luke could smell the faint scent of gunpowder from where he was. Throughout the courtyard, campers were strewn, some waking up, others just lying there, passed out.

When he reached the center of shops, he found, to his relief, the coffee place was open, and even had a couple customers.

He passed the doors, and saw quite a few people there. He even recognized a couple from Cabin Eleven.

He walked up to the counter and ordered a plain black coffee, before finding a table in the corner to sip his coffee in peace. The door chimed, and Luke looked up to see none other than Annabeth Chase walking in. She looked awful. Her eyes were red as could be, and had huge bags under them. Her blonde hair was a tangled mess, and she was walking very sluggishly. When she saw him, she flinched slightly, continued to order her coffee.

Once she received her beverage, a light iced coffee in a tall plastic cup, she walked to a nearby table. The whole time, though, she seemed to be fighting with herself. Eventually, she cursed to herself under her breath, and stood up, walking over to Luke's corner, where she sat across from him, facing him.

For a minute, the both of them looked solely at their coffees, not saying a word.

"Rough night?" Luke asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Looks like I'm not the only one," Annabeth replied in a raspy morning voice. She took a sip from her straw, and then a deep breath, before speaking again. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to say what I did."

"It's okay," Luke said, looking back to his coffee. "You were having a rough night, and needed to vent."

"I still feel horrible," she said. "Can I make it up to you?"

"I don't know how, but sure."

"How 'bout I start by buying you breakfast? The stuff they have here is, in my opinion, way better than the official breakfast," she offered.

"I wouldn't mind that," he admitted.

"What would you like?" she asked, standing up and counting out how many drachmas she had.

"Whatever you're getting. I don't know what's here, and I trust your judgement to like only the best," he said with a tired smirk.

"You got it," she said, and went to order the food.

When she came back, she had two breakfast sandwiches in her hands. Luke took his gratefully, and took a final drink of his coffee, before unwrapping it. It didn't look like too much, but, when he bit into it, it was the best thing he's tasted. On the other hand, he's ate nothing but garbage and bar-bee-que over the past month, so this was a great change of taste.

"I was right to trust you," he said once he'd swallowed. "This is great."

"I'm glad you like it," Annabeth said with a small blush.

A couple minutes went by in silence as the couple ate their breakfast.

"So..." Annabeth started. "What'd you do once you were topside?" she asked.

Luke's face fell for a second. "I... I stole until I could get a trans-continental train ticket. I came out in Cali, see."

"Where'd you go?" she asked. "I mean, I doubt your first thought was to come here."

"Guess," he said, and she sat a little straighter. "I wanna see just how good you've gotten in my absence."

"Okay," she said, smiling slightly at his proposed 'game'. She leaned forward, lacing her fingers and resting her chin on them.

"Deduce me, Sherlock," Luke said with a grin and a faux British accent.

"Oh, I plan to, Watson," she replied, matching his accent.

She made a show of squinting her eyes as she looked at him, and made a face of intense concentration.

"I deduce... You went home," she said. "To May."

Luke was shocked. She hit the nail on the head. "How did-?" he asked, astonished.

"Your emotional state, and your air of perpetual regret," she explained. "I've noticed you crying, even when you don't realize it. Back when we were roaming, the only thing in the world that could make you cry, not monsters, demons, or terrible fathers, was your mother. You left her because you cared for her. You never explicitly stated it, but it was as simple as reading between the lines. And, despite your changes, you're still the same Luke I knew when I was seven."

"Alright, but what about this 'perpetual regret'?"

"Last night. I may have been an emotional wreck, but I do remember everything that you said and did. And the awkward, regretful look you gave me when I entered." She leaned back and smirked. "It was... elementary, my dear Watson."

"Well, I applaud you, Miss Holmes. I clearly underestimated your skills," he said, bowing slightly.

"You've been away, awhile, Watson," she says. Then, she drops the Sherlockian air. "So... How is she? Your mother?" she asked, her voice soft, as if she knew she was on thin ice.

"She's-" Luke started, but his voice was broken and shaky. He cleared his throat, and started again. "She's dead. Whoever moved in said it happened last year. He was an ass..." Luke said, his eyes on his empty coffee cup.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Luke," Annabeth said. "Would... Would you like to see her? Chiron would let us out for that."

"I... Yeah. That'd be nice," he said, almost distantly.

"I'll go talk to him. Go take a shower while I do," she said.

"Okay. And... Thank you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So, I know some of you will feel this is very Lukabeth. While I, personally, prefer that ship, I cannot write romance. I'm trying to get better for a future story, but that's beside the point. This scene was a mix of my obsession with Sherlock Holmes, and a sympathetic Annabeth who never really changed her opinion about him. Anyway, that's that, this isn't a Lukabeth, and I think that's it.
~LotP