Luke didn't remember falling asleep. He barely remember the night before. But there was something about his dream that stuck in his head, even though he didn't want to remember it. It was just vague blurs and scraps of conversations like watching a movie with a scratched in the DVD.

Then all at once there was darkness. Luke stood there, wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. His shoes tapped the ground, nervously. It was deadly silent. Luke felt like he was back to being a demigod with stupid demigods dreams depicting the end of the world.

Frozen mist spurred around like he was standing in a cave. Luke could feel it on his skin, through his jacket. There was a humming vibrating through...where ever he was. It was low, but rising until Luke could feel that, too.

"This is only the beginning."

And then Luke woke up by falling off the couch.

"Son of a Hydra!" Luke exclaimed. He tried to get up, slamming his head into the coffee table. A string of curses flung off his tongue, in rapid fire Greek he forgot he even knew.

His body ached. His head hurt. And the world was kinda upside down.

Luke managed to get himself up, avoiding the coffee table this time. His brain was mush, the sunlight from a nearby window shone in like a golden rain, or glittering fairy dust.

He looked around trying to remember exactly where he was. Yesterday was a literal mess. Ethan missing, Bianca in tears, Octavian dying... There was noise from the other rooms. Kids arguing.

Luke groaned and stood up. He was still wearing his outfit from yesterday, a red shirt and his brown jacket, with his same jeans and sneakers on. Oh man, he even still smelled like syrup.

His neck hurt from yesterday, Luke could feel the imprints still. New doubted they were as visible now.

He cautiously walked towards the noise, the kitchen just a room over. The faint smell of burned bacon wafted in the air, along with toast and ironically more syrup. Wonderful, he was back at IHOP.

No actually, when he walked in he was surprised. There was a square wooden table, set with a platter of French toast, and plates and cups had been placed for four people.

"BIANCA SAID I GOT FIRST DIPS!"

"I ALREADY TOOK A BITE!"

"GIVE IT BACK!"

Two kids were standing up on the chairs fighting over one single piece of French toast. Much to Luke's amazement they managed to knock over all of the cups making a mess off milk and orange juice and flipped two chairs, there was a broken plate on the ground. Bacon was scattered across the floor.

"There's an entire table of more French toast!"

"I wanted that piece!"

Bianca was standing at the counter, staring at a small tv in the corner of the room. Her hands were clasped tightly around a mug of cold coffee. She seemed oblivious to the chaos behind her, which was so unlike her, Luke thought he was still dreaming.

He pinched his arm just to be sure.

Okay maybe he'd just tripped into an alternative dimension where Bianca was deaf and Ethan was just out partying or buying....whatever teenagers bought these days. And nothing strange or crazy or deadly was going on at all.

It was bad when Luke's lies made more sense then what was going on now.

"....local IHOP. Witnesses confirm that two local thugs-for-hire were responsible for the chaotic mess that left many injuried. Reports are still coming in...."

Luke felt like he'd been hit in the chest. Winded. He stumbled. His hand slammed the counter to catch his balance.

Bianca rippled like coming out of a trance. She glanced at him but quickly turned away.

"I made breakfast." She said monotone.

Luke looked back at "breakfast", specifically the floor bacon, "That worried, huh?" He joked lightly.

She didn't laugh.

She didn't even smile.

That was when Luke realized just how worried she actually was. Her eyes were puffy from her lack of sleep, her clothes crumpled, he could see tear trails tracing her cheeks. Oh gods, had she even closed her eyes?

Luke put a hand on her shoulder, and squeezed. She brushed him off and set her full cup in the sink. Guilt settled over him like a cloud, thick and heavy and stifling. Why could he sleep so easy when Ethan was MIA?

How could he sleep at all?

"Eat up." Bianca said, "and hurry up. This apartment makes me uneasy."

She walked out of the kitchen right past the arguing siblings, brushing her ebony hair behind her shoulder.

Luke frowned, "Wait who's apartment even is this?"

She barely paused long enough to shrug, "Neighbors," she said and left the room.

Luke swallowed hard. Where had he seen this before? Oh right. Years ago at Camp Half Blood on that stupid hill. Thalia was gone, just out of reach, and Annabeth had started putting walls up. Annabeth pushed him away, tried to take the pain by herself. Luke had stood there then watching his family fall apart, piece by piece.

Ethan and Bianca were his family.

His new one. He cared for them and trusted them and wanted to protect them. He was the oldest after all (no matter what Bianca said).

But Luke felt himself sinking again. Here was his family, Ethan missing where Luke couldn't help him, Bianca pushing him away. Why did this keep happening?

Luke put his hands in his pockets, just to remind himself he was real. Sometimes he needed to check again that he wasn't in the fields of punishment being forced to relive and rewatch everything he cared about fall apart.

"Family, Luke, You promised."

Luke glanced back at the tv, watching the pictures without hearing the words anymore. The videos of the IHOP replayed over and over catching glimpses of himself and Bianca, and Octavian and that waitress girl.

"Yeah, I know, Annabeth," Luke said, "This time I'm keeping that promise."

There was a tugging on his jacket. Luke flinched in surprise looking down to see one of the little kids staring up at him with bright brown eyes. Half his shirt was soaked in a mix of orange juice, milk, and syrup.

"Excuse Mr. Luke, are you crazy?" He asked, innocently "You're taking to yourself."

Luke nodded once, slightly annoyed, "Go eat your breakfast, kid."

"Okay!" The little kid bounded back to the table stepping on a pile of extra crispy bacon that practically crunched into dust it was burned.

Luke watched the French toast, "Maybe I should, too." He said aloud, having a joke with himself. Maybe he really was crazy. Wouldn't be the first time for that either.

He managed to break up another fight between the kids. Even though Luke's experience with kids was narrowed down to just taking care of Annabeth, he didn't think he was too bad. They didn't throw anymore breakfast around so that was good.

The kids politely informed him, later that he was indeed in a neighbor's house, their grandmother's apartment, who Luke had never even heard of. Luke was always busy at the station so he never really had time to talk to the other building renters.

The kids also had a lot to say about last night.

"It was crazy! All the crashing! And banging! It sounded like someone was dying!" The older of the two said with sound effects as he described it.

"Yeah, yeah! And the police showed up with flashing lights and people were screaming! It was so cool!" The other one said accidentally flinging his fork across the room.

Luke chewed on the French toast. He didn't think it had been cool. Not at all.

"Grandma let us stay up past our bedtimes!" The older said again, talking with his mouth full, "I heard someone talking about a guy with a gun running around! But I'm not scared!"

"Why not?" Luke asked.

Both of them stopped and looked at him confused. The boys, nearly identical, reminded him of the Stolls, except with black hair and brown eyes.

They frowned.

"Because you're here," the older said.

"Duh," the younger said.

"And you're a police officer! Just wait until all my friends hear that Luke Castellan stayed in my apartment! You're so cool and amazing! And you saved all those people!"

The other one nodded so fiercely his head almost came off, "There's nothing you can't do! That's why I'm going to be a police officer when I grow up!"

Luke managed a smiled.

Bianca reappeared in the doorway, a fake smile on her face. "Hey, guys, your grandmother says to get ready for school."

They both nodded eager to do anything for Bianca, "Yes, ma'ma!" They jumped up and scrambled down the hall almost knocking Bianca over. For a second she smiled for real, but then it was gone again.

"You ready?" She asked.

"Ready?" Luke repeated, "For what?"

She sighed, "We have to go. To the station. You know, to sort out this mess?"

She said it like it was just a misunderstanding. But Luke could see that she was trying her hardest not to fall apart again. There was no misunderstanding of this. Someone kidnapped Ethan, tried to kill them, and ransacked their home. They messed with the wrong family.

"Right," Luke said, "Let's do this." He stood up fast, slamming his knee into the table leg. Pain shot up his leg and he stifled a gasp.

"Watch out there's another table there." Bianca informed him.

"Yeah, thanks, B." He flexed his knee trying not to scream. She flattened her shirt and fixed her jacket collar. She looked slightly better than earlier, the rings under her eyes lighter in the early morning sunlight.

"Oh, Bianca dear!" Another voice flowed from down the hallway. She moved out of the way so that Luke could see an elderly lady hobbling towards them.

She looked ancient, like she was as old as some of the Greek monsters he'd faced. Her wrinkles had wrinkles and her posture was contoured in a way that seemed almost inhuman and her voice was scratchy like sandpaper to Luke's ears.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay the night?" She asked, "It could be dangerous out there."

"Thank you, but we will be fine." The daughter of Hades assured her, "I can't tell you how much we appreciate your hospitality."

"It's nothing, dear, be sure to keep an eye out. You never know exactly what is going on these days." She said, in that wise old woman tone that people in movies had.

"We will thank you!"

The grandmother pulled Bianca into a hug. Luke could see her surprise. She looked seriously uncomfortable. But she smiled anyway.

As they walked out the door, Luke caught sight of one of the boys peeking from around the corner, his Ninjago backpack still open on his back.

"Bye Mr. Luke," he said, "I know you're going to find Mr. Ethan! Tell him he still owes me a game of chess!"

His words shocked Luke but he was already out the door by the time it dawned on him.

"When did Ethan and him play chess?" He asked Bianca, who looked just as surprised.

"I have no idea. I didn't even know who those people were." She admitted, shuddering at the memory of the woman hugging her, "And if I had known Ethan could play chess, I would've crushed him months ago!"

"You play, too?"

"Yeah, Nico and I use to play before he discovered Myth-o-Magic. Not to brag, but I won every time." She grinned, and Luke chuckled.

"You beat an ADHD ten-year-old at a game that involves thinking ahead and planning stuff." He laughed making her blush, "Congrats."

"Shut up," She mumbled, "I fought for those victories!"

"Sure, sure, whatever you say."

They stepped down the hall, their voices loud. Luke watched the wallpaper pattern as they walked, the peeling green walls providing much entertainment.

"Do you wanna stop?" He asked, suddenly.

Bianca looked at him blankly.

"At our apartment," he clarified, "Maybe see if there's any clothes salvageable so we don't smell like Canada for the rest of today?"

"Just because we smell like Maple syrup doesn't mean-" she sighed and gave up reasoning, "Yes, let's do that."

Luke fished out his keys, and inserted them in the deadbolt, even though it wasn't necessary; their friends had forced their way in. The jangling reminded him of just the night before when Ethan had been fighting the door. It seemed like so long ago.

He opened the door.

It was worse than it had been last night. The front room was totalled, the couch ripped apart and the stuffing spilled out like fuzzy, soft blood. Past that the table had literally been broken in half, all the dishes and glasses and pots thrown from their respectable cupboard perches into a catastrophic mess on the floor. The computer in the corner of the room was knocked over, screen cracked. The lamps were shattered, glass and porcelain covered the floor in a terrible blanket.

But that wasn't what made it worse.

The worst part was the figure in the black hood, shifting through the a folder of papers on the ground carefully.

"Hey!" Luke yelled, "What the Hades are you doing?!"

The person jumped whirling around, something metal in his hand. Luke shoved Bianca back, out of sight, bracing himself for a gunshot. But nothing happened.

The figure was frozen, like he was having a flashback to something horrible. The gun in his hand dropped to the floor with a clang. The guy in the hood fled further into the apartment, the folder of papers clenched to his chest.

"Stay back!" Luke ordered Bianca, but he didn't wait to see if she listened. Luke leapt into the room, glass breaking under his step. He bounded after the intruder. He closed the distance in seconds, grabbing the guy's shoulder.

The guy whipped around, elbowing Luke in the face. Agony shot up Luke's face, blinding him.

"Son of Hera!" Luke exclaimed stumbling backwards. His hand grabbed the nearest thing, blindly, but it snapped off the intruder. Luke tumbled to the floor, landing one of the shattered lamps bases.

"Luke!" Bianca screamed ashen pale.

He struggled to get up again, but the thief was gone. Slipping out the back window. Luke ran to the window just in time to watch the figure fade into the shadows of the alley below, file tucked in hand. "Di Immortalis!"

Bianca rushed to his side tripping over a table leg. She looked sick.

"Who was that?" She asked like he'd know, "and oh my gods he had a gun!"

Luke swallowed hard. He opened his palm looking to see exactly what he tore off the thief.

His blood ran cold. His chest constricted, until he couldn't breath.

"Oh gods." Bianca whispered.

Luke's shaking hand dropped what was left of the beaded necklace on the floor. A dozen carefully painted Camp Half Blood beads rolled into the mess.