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Dionysus had dealt with many many insufferable brats over the years at camp, but Luke had never been one of them.
He’d always been kind to Dionysus, always baring his teeth at every other god in rebellion. Even on his first day at camp, Luke refused to speak unless it was to Mr. D.
Luke didn’t remember the first time Dionysus had met him, how could he? He was a baby swaddled in the softest fabric Dionysus had ever felt. He’d cradled Luke in his arms that day May Castellan had come to take over the Oracle and failed. He’d cooed to the baby who’d begun to cry over Hermes’ shouts for his love. He’d vowed to protect this demigod like his own.
Most wondered how he, Thalia and Annabeth had survived so long out there on their own. They’d had many close calls, but Dionysus was always there, sneakily guiding them on different paths, whispering in Luke’s dreams, leading him to camp. To safety.
So it was no surprise now to have Luke cradled in his arms, barely conscious and drunk out of his fourteen year old mind. He’d gotten into Dionysus’ stash again, his dreams were horrible, worse than most demigod’s dreams. Cruel voices were trying to lead him astray and Dionysus knew what was coming. They all knew and could do nothing to stop it, but he could try to ease Luke’s pain where he could.
“D?’ Luke mumbled, head hanging over the god’s arm as they moved up the stairs inside the Big House. “Where’re we goin’?”
“To get you some real rest, cub.” He replied, pushing his own bedroom door open with his foot. He could dump Luke in cabin 11, but his cabin mates weren’t exactly peaceful and he doubted Luke would get the rest he deserved.
“Mkay,” Luke closed his eyes as Dionysus carefully placed him on the plush bed. Dionysus rarely slept, gods didn’t need to. But he liked his privacy, so Chiron gave him this room. He’d filled it with the softest blankets and pillows, but not for him, for Luke.
Those awful, rickety bunk beds could not have been comfortable. Dionysus remembered when he was still a demigod himself, how he would sleep on floors better than the bed he and his mother shared for a long while. He assumed that these bunk beds were no different.
Dionysus covered the drunken boy with blankets, and silently cursed himself for ever thinking that keeping alcohol on the property was a good idea. That in itself for the God of Wine, was a strange feeling.
When Luke rolled onto his side, his mess of dark curls falling over his face, Dionysus began to retreat when the young demigod spoke.
“Thank you, Dionysus.” He mumbled. “I never have bad dreams in here.”
The god sighed, reaching down to move Luke’s curls away. “I know, cub. Sleep now. I’ll bring you food later.”
Luke didn’t need to be told twice. He let out a soft sigh and fell asleep almost instantly. Dionysus hovered for just a moment, debating whether he should watch over the poor kid, but he decided against it and left the room.
When Luke woke, he heard voices from the hallway, and they sounded angry.
He sat up gingerly, his head pounding. He couldn’t remember much aside from the wine and falling asleep in here. He didn’t dream.
Looking out the window, he saw the sun had set and the Harpies were out, waiting for a demigod to try to sneak around. Looks like he was staying in here tonight. He hoped Dionysus wouldn’t be upset that he slept for so long.
On the bedside table, was a tray of food and a soda, but Luke wasn’t interested in food at that moment. He was more interested in the voices.
Slowly, he climbed out of the bed and tiptoed towards the door, peering through the small crack.
“This is outrageous!” The familiar voice hissed. “You think that you can take my son into your bedroom without consequences? That is my son, Dionysus.”
“What you’re implying, Hermes, is a line even I would not cross.” Dionysus replied, his voice shaking with rage. “I would never touch the boy. I was helping him.”
“By doing what, exactly?” Hermes pressed. “By allowing him to drink your wine, carrying him up to your bed and treating him like the sun shines out of his-”
“That is quite enough Hermes,” Chiron’s voice joined the argument. “I can vouch for Dionysus. Luke merely needed proper rest. He doesn’t have direct access to… peace and quiet in your cabin. He bears the weight of your legacy more than your other children and you know this. His dreams-”
There was a thud. Chiron’s wheelchair had smacked against the wall, his shirt bunched in Hermes fist. “Don’t you dare talk about my son’s dreams,” Hermes seethed and Luke sucked in a soft breath. He’d never seen his father so angry before. Then again, he’d hardly ever seen his father to begin with.
“Easy,” Dionysus murmured, stepping closer to try to pull Hermes’ hand away from Chiron. “You’ll wake him up if you continue like this.”
Hermes disregarded this, swiftly moving to pin Dionysus against the wall instead. Both gods’ eyes glowed, their bodies flickered with power, with rage and Chiron looked away in fear that they’d turn into their true forms. But Luke didn’t look away.
“Get out of my house,” Dionysus seethed, hand flying to grip Hermes' jaw so tight, Luke heard their mortal bodies bones’ crack under the pressure.
“You will pay for this, Dionysus.” He replied with a grunt and pushed Dionysus further against the wall that began to crack. This would not end well.
“Dad, stop!” Luke flung the door open and all three men’s eyes were on him in seconds. He felt a bit ridiculous standing — swaying — there, trying to prevent a battle between all powerful gods but if he was honest, they looked even more ridiculous. “Dionysus was just trying to help.”
“Oh, so you’re on a first name basis with him too?” Hermes let out a laugh of disbelief, but he’d let Dionysus go, wiping a hand over his face.
“It’s not his fault,” Luke persisted, twisting the font of his shirt between his fists. Then he stopped, forcing himself to stand up straighter. Nerves wouldn’t get him very far. “It’s my fault. I stole his wine and drank it all.”
Hermes glared at his son, but he said nothing. Son of a thief. Hermes shook his head slowly, but thankfully Chiron intervened.
“I think we’re all a bit wound up this evening. No real harm has been done here. Luke has bravely owned up to his mistakes and we can all only hope that he’s learnt his lesson?” He looked to Luke expectantly, who gave a confident nod. Anything to end this mess. “Good. We'll consider this a warning for Luke. Next time there will be repercussions. As for you two,” he looked between the gods like a tired parent. “There is no need to get yourselves so worked up over this. Mr. D. is this camp's director. Zeus made him swear to protect these children, and this is exactly what he’s done. No one is trying to steal your son, Hermes.”
Not yet, Luke thought, but all eyes flew to him again and horrifyingly, he realized he’d said that out loud. “I just- I meant-”
“It’s alright, Luke.” Chiron offered a sad smile. What had they said about his dreams earlier? Did they know who was visiting him? Coaxing him further and further into hating the gods?
Hermes dropped a hand onto his son’s head, gently petting him and Luke was ready to fall asleep again, but his father looked more worried than he had at the start of all this.
Something was wrong.
When Luke yawned, the three adults seemed to shift, silently ending this conversation. They all appeared to be a little relieved over it too.
Hermes offered Luke an awkward hug goodbye, as if Luke’s body burned against him, and told him to be good before glaring at Dionysus as he disappeared into thin air.
Chiron looked at Luke. “You may sleep in the Big House tonight. Get some more rest, Luke.”
“Goodnight, Chiron.” Luke watched him wheel himself away before turning to Dionysus, who looked like he’d been stabbed. His face was wound up tight with something Luke couldn’t decipher. “I’m sorry if I ruined things,” he whispered, twisting at his shirt again, allowing himself to almost shrink within himself. Dionysus never judged.
Dionysus sighed, resting a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “You did no such thing, cub.” He lightly patted Luke’s cheek before surprising the boy by pulling him into a hug. “The Fates have been cruel to you all your life. I’ve been around for many years, seen many heroes fall, but none of them have endured what you have.” Luke had a feeling there was more to this, more to his future that Dionysus knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
After a moment of silence, Dionysus pulled away and gestured to the bedside table. “Go eat, rest more. You look thinner than last week.” He tugged on Luke’s loose camp shirt that was definitely two sizes too big.
“Will you sit with me?” Luke looked up at him with big eyes and Dionysus gave the smallest nod, following him into the bedroom. Luke sat cross-legged on the mattress, reaching for the tray of food.
Dionysus perched on the edge, watching the younger boy in silence. Luke ate slowly, picking it all apart, but Dionysus encouraged him to eat everything. Luke wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but Dionysus didn’t seem to care. He guessed that time wasn’t Dionysus’ biggest concern as an immortal god.
But time was Luke’s biggest concern. All Luke had was time. Like an internal clock ticking away, leading him to his own personal doomsday.
When he was done, Dionysus placed the tray down for him and Luke settled back against the headboard, but made no move to lie down again. He was exhausted, every bone in his body screamed for sleep, but his mind wouldn’t let him relax.
“Did you have nightmares when you were a demigod?” He asked softly and Dionysus sucked in a breath, slowly leaning against the corner pillar of the bed post so he could face Luke head on.
“Every night,” he answered truthfully and Luke hummed.
“Why is my father so angry at you?”
“Because he wants to be the one to take care of you.”
“Then why doesn’t he?”
“He can’t.”
“But he’s a god. He can do what he likes.”
“It’s complicated, cub.”
“Everything is always so complicated with you Olympians.” Luke’s expression turned sour, almost a snarl, but he was too tired to bare his teeth.
Dionysus blinked and that expression blurred but never faded. Luke had his sword pointed right at Percy’s heart now, and all Dionysus could do was watch from the shadows of the forest. All Percy had to do was mention Hermes, and Luke’s rage had taken over.
That same expression all these years later. Nothing and everything had changed in between and Dionysus came to the conclusion that even a god should appreciate time. That it’s fleeting and violent and cruel. That it can take anything into its grasp to never be seen again.
All Luke had now was Time.