warnings: nsfw, I'm talking about kinks here, so there'll be a few things not everyone's comfortable with I guess. Read at your own risk, a 'back' or 'closing' button exists and don't come at me when you're not sharing my opinions. / Yuji & Megumi aged up
– Gojo isn’t the biggest kink enthusiast, he actually loves his sweet vanilla-flavored sex life very much, thank you. But there are a few things that get him going, and the both of you had a little (read: a lot) fun finding out about them.
– Gojo loves clothed sex. It’s a bit funny & maybe a little bit hurtful at times, when he’s rutting into you and whimpering into your ear while you’re both still fully clothed, the cotton of his jeans chafing the skin on your ass raw, or his face hidden from the world by the curve of your sundress. When you’re wearing lingerie, the good one that costs a fortune and feels silky smooth on your skin, Gojo’s always brushing his face all over them, sliding his dick over your folds while they’re still wrapped up in silk and lace. And you can be absolutely sure that you make him the happiest man on earth when he’s allowed to paint your bra white, and he’ll buy you a new set right on the next day.
– Another thing Gojo likes is intercrural sex. He loses his mind every time you tighten the muscles of your thighs, his dick surrounded by soft skin, the head sliding into your folds once and again and making him go stupid. There are bonus points if he fucked you beforehand and his own cum is slowly dripping out of you, making a mess with excess lube between your legs. What can I say, that man likes it sticky.
– Other things Gojo can enjoy from time to time are sensory deprivation (duh), and a lot of phone sex. He’ll call you at the strangest and most ill-timed moments, breathily moaning into the phone and asking you what you’re wearing while you’re standing in the middle of the grocery store. He isn’t the most creative when it comes to dirty talk, but he absolutely makes up for it in enthusiasm.
– Last, but definitely not least, is food play. Licking whipped cream from your tits? Count him in. Your pussy sticky with your slick and sugary sweet strawberry sauce? Hell yeah! Decorating your naked body with all of his favorite treats and slowly consuming them one after another with bites and kisses to your skin in between? He’d have no problem with dying like that, happy, giddy and a too satisfied smile sitting on his lips.
tattooartist!Sukuna:
– A very warm welcome to Mr. Kinky and his drool-worthy dick. That man tried it all and if he hasn’t you can be sure that he will.
– I don’t think that it’s necessary to mention that he’s a sadist but just to be sure that the people in the back heard it too: Sukuna is a sadist. And he loves being one.
– Knife play? The sharpness of a blade ghosting over your skin and making you shiver? Hell yes. Biting into the junction of your shoulder until drops of blood slowly slide down your chest and get caught on your nipples, sucking them up with a satisfied hum? Of course. Red wax dripping all over you? Yes.
– Dacryphilia and asphyxiation are foreign words he knows as well as his own body, and don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing, incompetence in the bedroom being something he doesn’t have the patience for.
– He’s also big on edge play, could come untouched from you begging and crying and denying you an orgasm again. He’ll tell you what a good girl you are and not reward you anyway, will absolutely find a reason to spank your pussy and make you squirt, just to punish you afterward because he didn’t say you’re allowed to come, did he?
– You needed some time to get used to his not really common preferences, but he talked you through all of it, explained and showed and explained again until you were able to make decisions with knowing what you’d get yourself into.
– You even tried consensual non-con, Sukuna hunting you through the woods, fear flooding your bloodstream, every little sound of feet rustling up leaves, the crunching sound of branches getting stepped on making your heart race and your hands sweat. His sing-song voice was the worst of it though, his deepy raspy voice calling for his pretty little birdie, the deep rumble of his got you, when he shoved you down on the forest floor and pushed his dick against your ass. All of it made you come in seconds, surprising the both of you, and you make sure to play scenes like this at least every other month.
– So yeah, Sukuna isn’t for the faint of heart, but he wouldn’t go for virgins anyway, that’s a kink he definitely doesn’t have.
Toji:
– Oh girl, do I even have to say anything? Of course that guy’s a kinky pervert, or did we suddenly get teleported into another universe?
– That beefy, stinky man has the biggest ass-kink on the planet. He invented the term ass-kind-of-guy. Anal sex, anilingus, putting vibrators in your ass until you’re a begging, crying mess, he loves it all. He can eat out your ass for hours, slowly stretching you until he’s sure you’re loose enough to push half his hand inside and make you squeal-scream in the process.
– When he’s fucking your tight little pussy, he loves to push a dildo in your ass, to absolutely wreck two of your holes at the same time. He gives himself extra credit when he’s spanking you at the same time, the soft skin of your cheeks turning pink and ruddy, both holes squeezing tightly.
– Toji also has a thing for discipline, but only when it’s concerning you. He’s allowed to do whatever he wants, thank you very much, but you stepping a toe out of line in the bedroom? Yeah, you won’t walk for a few good hours after that, your ass sporting a colorful array of purple's and yellow’s.
– His hand is his go-to punishment device, all his money spent on beer and gambling, but he’s also getting hella creative after you asked him for other kinds of impact tools. Towels, belts, you name it he tried it.
– There’s also something beautiful in him drinking beer while he’s fucking your face without a care in the world, don’t you think? When he’s feeling generous, he’s even pulling you off his dick with a hand in your hair, telling you to stay wide open, before he’s spitting warm beer on your tongue. He says it’s because of the prickly feeling on his dick after, but you both know that’s a big fat lie and he’s just getting off to the humiliation of it all, not that you mind, really.
Choso:
– Well, Choso has every kink in the book when it comes to worshipping you and your body in every aspect of it. He loves to praise you, to tell you how fucking beautiful you are, how he wants to basically crawl into you to be as close as he can get.
– Others might say it’s all a bit creepy, but you know that it’s love in its purest form, that you found a guy who just wants to make sure that you know that you’re his priority in life, that you are, without a doubt, his number one.
– So yeah, pussy worship is kind of a big thing. He’ll eat you out for hours, tell you how pretty your clit is, how sweet it looks when your folds are all swollen pink and glistening with your slick and his spit. The space between your legs is his favorite place on earth, and be assured, that guy has thousands of pictures of your pussy on his phone, you know, for the five minutes a day he can’t touch the real thing.
– Also: face sitting. Your juices dripping all over him? Your hips rolling into his open, waiting mouth? His nose bumping into your clit? The satisfaction when he’s a good boy and licks it all up and you get all desperate and fuck yourself on his face even faster? To say it in Choso’s words: yes, please.
– And well, because Choso’s so in love with you, duh, it’s a given that he likes everything about you. And that includes your feet. The first time he asked you to step on him you thought he’s high out of his mind and doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but your curiosity won, and you did. Stepped on his thigh with naked feet, raising an eyebrow when he moaned. You pushed your foot against his dick next, toes curling around the length of him, slowly sliding up and down. Choso came in seconds and licked his own cum straight off your feet. It’s now a thing between the two of you when you’re feeling lazy, and it’s sweet, how he ruts against the sole of your foot, how he presses both of your feet around him and fucks up into the space between them, just to come with a whimper and a cute little frown between his eyebrows.
– The last thing on the list of Choso being Choso and being in love with you is somnophilia. He’ll never get tired of watching you sleep, to count the rise and fall’s of your chest, to feel sleep warm skin under his fingertips. He made sure beforehand that it’s okay for him to touch you when asleep, and after you consented, he’s spending hours upon hours touching you at night, just featherlight brushes with the tips of his fingers, the slowest and softest thrusting he’s capable of. He always cleans you up after, getting distracted by the fluttering of your lashes, and more often than not you don’t even know that he fucked you the night before.
– Well, he can’t risk you having a bad day because you’re tired, can he?
Megumi:
– Hello exhibitionism king! That guy absolutely has a thing for fucking outdoors, no matter if it’s you giving him head in the dirty bathroom of a fast food restaurant, him eating you out in the last row of the bus, or the two of you fucking in his car in a parking lot of a random grocery store. In broad daylight, of course.
– He just gets hard as soon as he thinks someone could see him, you. Your tits slapping into his face where anyone could see, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass where anyone could hear – it all gets his rock off to the point that he sometimes has a hard (pun intended) time leaving his flat without popping a fucking boner.
– Next to his exhibitionism kink, he’s also got the art of voyeurism down. Stalking you through your windows, hiding in dark corners of your flat, watching you in silence when you masturbate. Maybe there are also one or two cameras carefully hidden in your flat, just so he can watch you doing mundane things behind his computer screen. It’s creepy, it’s sexy, you wouldn’t want him to change in any way.
– Sometimes, he also likes a little bit of torture during your adventurous escapades in the outside world, just a few nipple clamps here, a little bit of clit pinching there. Everything to make you even louder, to make you squeal in pain and pleasure to maximize the risk of getting caught.
– Hell, even during movie nights with friends your pussy isn’t safe in the slightest. He’ll just shove his hand into your pants under a blanket, fingering and teasing you until you’re all red in the face and can’t answer any worried questions thrown at you.
– One of his favorites is to fuck you against your living room windows. They go from the floor to the ceiling and you aren’t really living high up – any pedestrian passing by on the street could see you if they just tilt their head back the slightest bit. Oh, and they will absolutely hear you, because Megumi wouldn’t be Megumi if he wouldn’t open the windows so your moans and groans and whimpers spill out onto the street.
– You can’t say that you mind, really, because when they see you, they also see him and know who this crazy, handsome freak belongs to. And maybe, you’re both a little freaky, but who the hell cares about that?
Yuji:
– Oh, sweet vanilla sugar boy! Yeah, well, I’m sorry to say this but Yuji isn’t kinky in the slightest. And you wouldn’t want him to be. Because you aren’t kinky either and you’re both living happily with that.
– Seriously, Yuji is a flustered mess every time you wear fucking lingerie, a rosy blush sitting on his cheekbones, his hands trembling when they ghost over lacy almost-nothings. He’s also the kind of guy to make sure you know how pretty you are wearing things like that, and he almost fainted when you wore a lacy bodysuit to your one-year anniversary. Because yes, apparently you are those kind of people who have a date written down and all that shit.
– With time, the two of you tried a few more things to ‘spice things up’, and one of Yuji’s favorites is definitely school-girl-roleplay. There’s just something about seeing you fluttering your lashes at him, your pussy grinding on his lap with a checkered too small skirt hiding it from view.
– Sensation-play is a close second though, no matter who of you is wearing the blindfold, or gets tickled by feathers, a few soft spanks landing on your ass. Yuji always makes sure to not leave any marks with the palm of his hands, because he still wants to grope your cheeks when he’s fucking you from behind and doesn’t want to risk hurting you.
– So yeah, it’s hella vanilla but to each their own I guess.
Kento:
– Kento likes one thing and one thing only: control.
– He’s a brat-taming king, working overtime when it’s concerning discipline and training you to obey him and him only.
– This guy has degradation and humiliation internalized in a way only a few people in the world have, and it always gives him a special kind of kick to call you a slut and actually make you one in the process.
– During his extraordinarily good dirty talk that always brings you to tears, he has you gagged more often than not. It doesn’t really matter to him what exactly he uses to shut you up: sometimes it’s his dick, other times when you don’t deserve a treat it’s a gag ball or simply one of his ties.
– Kento also needs your tears like others need air to breathe, and he licks them off your cheeks, letting you rub them over his dick as a poor substitute for lube.
– That man also has one hell of a breeding kink, always fucking you deep and deeper and deeper, whispering things in your ear like ‘you’d look good all round and swollen’, ‘this is the only thing you’re good for, princess, taking my dick and letting me fill you up’. Just your normal overworked man and his preferences, I guess.
– All that’s left for you to do is hope that he’s letting you come before he has to go to work again.
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On the morning of Marinette’s birthday, Plagg and Trixx were conspiring in the corner of her room.
“I decided a few months ago I’d start teaching Marinette magic on her birthday and I’m considering giving her a kwagatama as well. She more than deserves it but it’s not like she’s gonna get something from my past holders.”
“She could yell at them for you?”
“Nice as that’d be,” Plagg spoke, “I don’t want her anywhere near them, even if they can’t do anything.”
“Fair enough. That all?”
“No. I- I was wondering if you wanted to help? Obviously I’m not teaching her destruction magic yet, but some little things here and there. Lights, opening doors, maybe even some more complicated stuff. Conjuring - y’know like summoning stuff from her home, storage voids, etcetera - and maybe some runic magic or even spells?”
“Oh-ho-ho. I’d love to help. She already has such great potential and just imagine the chaos and confusion if she just gets stuff out of nowhere! Bringing out a box of snacks when everyone knows she didn’t have any earlier? Or creating some sparkles around the room with light? Or-”
“Alright, that’s enough. Don’t give her any ideas.”
With a cackle, Trixx declares, “Of course not! I wouldn’t dare!”
“...Right. So, are you gonna give her a kwagatama?”
“Why, of course! I’ve only been with her for a day but she’s great. And, if she’s anything near as wonderful as you say, I’ll only grow to love her more.”
“Perfect.”
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Later that day, when Marinette finally woke up, Plagg flew up to her. With messy hair, half-closed eyes, and immense lethargy, she gave him a half smile - too tired to bother putting in effort.
“Good afternoon, sleepyhead,” He spoke calmly. He was smiling aswell and his tiny fangs were showcased. “Happy birthday.”
“Right.” Marinette was still so sleepy she wasn’t paying much attention and wasn’t even registering much of what was happening.
“Trixx!”
“Yes, Plagg?”
“So absorbed in your grapes you didn’t even notice Marinette’s up?”
“She’s up!?”
“...I’m right here.”
“Happy birthday, Marinette!” Trixx shouted, twirling around, excited Marinette would be getting her and Plagg’s kwagatamas and finally learning magic. With such a large spark and her creativity, she was very eager to see what she could do with it! Her magenta eyes were practically sparkling with joy and the only reason she wasn’t giving her her kwagatama now was Plagg’s flipper on her shoulder.
“Go get some lunch, kid. Trixx and I will be waiting here.”
With a suspicious look, Marinette went downstairs to grab some lunch.
“You treat her like she’s your child. You’re so boring.”
“That’s because she is my child. You know this. And I’m not letting her do anything that could hurt her in any way, shape, or form.”
Coming back up her stairs with her lunch, Marinette sat down and her desk and was ready to eat. Though she was still in her pyjamas, she was significantly more awake.
Plagg joined Trixx sitting on her desk. They looked at each other and Plagg spoke. “Remember how when we first met you asked if I could teach you magic?” He hesitantly paused to gauge Marinette’s reaction before Trixx interrupted.
“What grumpy-pants here is trying to say is that we’re gonna learn you some magic! We’re gonna start with some basic stuff, go into more complicated things, and eventually teach you our specialised magic - once you’ve got the rest down, of course.” Trixx was oh-so excited to teach her some magic and watch the chaos unfold. Marinette had entropy - both good and bad - following her like a lost puppy but was somehow still incredibly lucky. The havoc she caused was no match for any of Trixx’s past holders and she was thrilled.
Marinette's eyes gleamed. She was so excited to learn magic, to help people better than before - even if it was just the basics.
“We’re also gonna give you a kwagatama,” Plagg picked up. “It’s a way to communicate with past holders but you’ll learn that another time.”
“When do we start?”
One magic lesson later, Marinette was already able to create sparks of light on her fingertips and open locked doors. Unbeknownst to her, Plagg and Trixx had never seen anyone pick up magic, let alone do it well, that quickly. They were in slight shock, but didn’t want to worry her so kept it to themselves and decided to advance their lessons quicker than they had planned. Although they knew she would catch on quickly, they weren’t quite expecting this. But just because they were going to teach her more didn’t mean they were going to put her in danger - which meant not teaching her anything that could overexert her, especially because they knew she would push herself too far.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Weeks passed and Plagg and Trixx decided to teach Marinette unification. Although they hadn’t been focusing on miraculous magic, with how well she was doing otherwise - able to summon things to her hands from around the house, summon things to not her hands from around the house, open storage voids, and brighten and dim her fingertip light - they decided she was more than ready. Her magic spark was growing and she had been doing better than either of them could’ve expected.
After dusk came and dinner was eaten, Marinette was down in the apartment part of the bakery in the living room. It was a cosy space - not too big, not too small, but still well-used. Coasters were scattered about the coffeetable, stained with constant use. End tables with subtle scratches and dents and blankets strewn over the couch and chairs. Between rounds Ultimate Mecha Strike II, Trixx and Plagg floated in front of her.
“What’s up?” She questioned. She loved them but the float-in-front-of-face tactic was almost always employed when they had news to share. It had never been dire, though, so she wasn’t too concerned.
“So, we’ve come to a decision,” Plagg started.
“We’re gonna let you try unifying us! It’s a way to use both our powers at once, but it can be dangerous. You’ve been wilding Plagg for a while, though, and your magic is growing stronger by the day so we decided it was finally safe enough.”
“Can I test it out tonight?”
“Of course! Not sure what good it’ll do you with Plagg still holding out on his power, but still! Plus it’d be a good gauge of your magic ability - Obviously we wouldn't let you if it wasn’t completely safe but we’re one hundred percent sure you’ll do fine!”
“Actually, I’ve decided to teach her my power,” Plagg spoke to Trixx. Turning to Marinette, he said, “Kitten, listen carefully. All you have to do is say ‘cataclysm’ and there will be dark, bubbling energy around your hand with my ring on it. Touch your hand to whatever you want to destroy, and it will crumble to dust. Please be careful with it, though, it’s incredibly powerful and very, very dangerous.”
Marinette was a bit hesitant due to the knowledge of Plagg’s power, but was ultimately excited to unify them. She was confident the kwamis would only do what was best for her and if they decided it was safe, she would believe them. Plagg and Trixx were everything to her and she trusted them immensely.
Plagg picked up, “Same rules as when you first transformed with me - no doing anything stupid and get back before you detransform.”
Marinette silently but excitedly rushed up the stairs and over to her desk and picked up some of Plagg’s cheese bread and Trixx’s berries.
“Oh, shut up, Monsieur Over-Protective. You know she’ll do whatever she pleases. And she has food - she just went up to grab it, didn’t you see?”
“How are you so sure she got food?”
Trixx silently pointed behind Plagg where Marinette was standing with a bag of assorted berries in one hand and some cheese bread in the other. “You two ready?” She spoke, stuffing the food in her pockets.
“Of course, kit!” Trixx exclaimed. Despite only knowing Marinette for about a week, Trixx was wholly ready to call her his kit. She was the best he’d ever had - true holder or not.
“What do I have to do?” she spoke.
“All you have to say is invoke our names and instruct us to unify, it works transformed and untransformed,” Plagg stated. “To detransform you can say ‘detransformation’ and to divide us you say the name of who you don’t want to stay transformed with and say ‘divide’”
“Do I have to say ‘and’ or just…” Marinette trailed off, not wanting to transform without giving any warning.
“No, just ‘Trixx, Plagg, unify,” Trixx said.
“Of course you’d put your name first.”
“Like you wouldn’t do the same!”
“You ready, Trixx?” Marinette questioned, interrupting the kwamis before the argument could escalate.
“Of course!”
“Hey, why’d you ask her if she’s ready and not me?”
“Because you, sir, are a pain in the ass. Plagg, Trixx, unify!”
Her boots went up to her mid-thighs, black fading to a dark, rich brown, topped with a neon green band which also encompassed her white countershading. A light brown band circled her waist, separating her orange hips from her black torso. Her arms were a light orange fading into a darker, yet still bright, one, once again topped with a neon green band. Her bright yellow, slit eyes glowed against her orange mask, mostly bright orange fading into pale orange on the sides. Her hair was again in a long braid, starting as an unnatural blue and gradually ending in white.
Jumping out the living room window, she scaled the building next door - I should’ve gone back up to my room, she thought. It would’ve been easier than climbing a building. Reaching the top, she realised she could've just used her staff. Deciding there was no use dwelling over it or complaining, she set out to the Eiffel Tower, leaping over the rooftops neighbouring her own. It was a distance but not too far - perfect to test the unification.
She hadn’t happened upon any crime that night so she sat on the top tier of the tower for a few hours before heading home. She would’ve liked to practice with some illusions but got lost in the view; the city was lit up and dead silent despite the (surprisingly little) traffic - which might have just been because she was so far up. She wished to see the stars but only the brightest were visible among the moon. It was a waning gibbous moon that night, lighting up the sky more than the lights of the city.
Reaching home, she attempted to open her trapdoor but it wouldn’t budge. Remembering it was locked, she lowered herself via baton back to the living room window, hoping her parents hadn’t woken up and locked it. Leaping through the window, she whispered “Detransformation,” and Plagg and Trixx spun out of their respective miraculous.
“Wooo! I haven’t been unified in sooooo long,” Trixx stated.
Plagg said, “We are so proud of you, kid. You did excellently out there, staying transformed for hours with both of us and-”
“Thank you, Plagg. I appreciate it but it’s late and I’m getting tired, I’m going to bed.”
“Of course, kit!” Trixx exclaimed. With another glare from Plagg, he lowered his voice and continued, “Go to bed, Mari, we’ll see you in the morning.”
“G’night.”
“Night, kitten.”
“Goodnight, Kit.”
After Marinette fell asleep - which didn’t take long - Trixx once again pulled Plagg to the corner of the room. “Kitten?” She questioned.
“...Yeah. She’s the best, I love her.”
“I do too, Plagg, I do too.”
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Around noon the next day, after Marinette had woken up, Trixx turned to Plagg and spoke, “I miss everyone else.”
“Like, the kwamis? Our box or the others?”
“Both, mostly our box though. We were stuck together in that boring, white void for so long with our only company and entertainment being each other.”
“Yeah, I miss them too. I’m glad I have you, though. We’ve always gotten along so well!”
“Why, of course we have, dear Plagg. You cause the chaos and I cover it up!”
“Excuse me!? You have caused just as much if not more than I ever had.”
“Coming from the kwami of chaos!”
Marinette, half-listening to them, half the news, said, “Break it up, you two. No need to bicker.”
“We are not bickering. That is below us!” Plagg exclaimed.
Marinette rolled her eyes, getting back to the news as Plagg and Trixx resumed their conversation.
“Xuppu quite liked to cause trouble too, wonder where he is,” Trixx asked.
“I don’t really know. Last I know of him, his holder was… fighting mine.”
“I’m sorry, Plagg.”
“Don’t worry, I’m over it. What about Mullo? She certainly liked to go along with our chaos, even if she wasn’t particularly chaotic herslef.”
Although knowing Plagg was most certainly not over it, Trixx said, “Yeah! I hope we see her again soon! Last I heard she was being sent to Greece.”
Marinette interrupts, “Greece? Was her miraculous, by chance, a coin necklace with five sections and mouse motifs?”
“...Yeah. How’d you know?” Trixx questioned.
Marinette gestured to the computer where the news was on. Flying over, Trixx and Plagg heard the story of a new museum exhibit from ancient Greece. The reporter motioned to a picture of a necklace - Mullo’s necklace.
“Mullo!” Plagg exclaimed. It had been so long since he’d seen anyone, other than Trixx, of course, and he was excited to see that Mullo was okay.
“We have to get her back, kit!”
“No, no. Absolutely fuckin’ not. I’d love to see Mullo again but we are not putting Marinette in danger stealing from a museum.”
“C’mon,” Trixx drawled out. “You’re no fun. She’ll be fine. You’ve seen what a schemer she is, she’ll just come up with a plan to get Mullo back!”
“Actually, I think I already have one.” Plagg groans as Trixx beams and Marinette continues. “I just make a fake mouse miraculous, get into the museum, and exchange them. No big deal!”
With a cackle, Trixx exclaims “Great! Let’s do it!”
“How are you going to do that, kitten? You can’t just waltz into the museum and say “Hey! That necklace is a magical artifact and I’m going to need that.”
“Well, yeah, obviously. I’m gonna make the replica perfect with Trixx’s illusion magic then transform with her, cloak myself in an illusions, and quickly replace Mullo’s miraculous.”
“And how exactly are you going to get in? I doubt they just leave the door unlocked, nor the case with the necklace.”
It’s almost painful, when James says, “What if we miss out on it? What if it’s real and we discard it?”
And Regulus, because he has excuses, because he grew up hurt and with a hand around his neck, because he turned out this way; burnt and disgusting and undeserving, wants to give James nothing.
Because if he gives James anything, even just an inch, even just the ghost of it, he will not want to stop. He would do it all, anything he’d need, anything he’d want, for a chance at it. He’ll want to give James everything. So he says, “What if we try and it’s not? What’s left of us then?”
Regulus knows he can never let go of the violence. He’s gotten so good at it over the years. He holds his mother’s silence in his hands and his father’s poison in his mouth. He has long stopped hoping to outgrow it. He became a storyteller to get rid of the things that haunt him and still he always ends up telling the same story: of how he tries and tries and tries, and still fails anyway to outrun it.
James’ next inhale sounds shakier than the one before. “What’s left of us now?”
6/25 chapters | WIP | AO3
or: jegulus in witness protection (unresearched), fake dating, there’s only one bed, crushes-to-complicated-enemies-to-lovers (with some background wolfstar bc im weak)
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Jealous Aang take two under the cut :) (also I like these asks so i’m in the hang of writing a bit everyday after work since my chapters in Heartbeat are already pretty short)
“So you’re the Greatest Earthbender in the World, huh?”
The words piqued Aang’s attention and he turned around to see a man leaning on a wall, in conversation with Aang’s girlfriend who seemed to only be entertaining the man with a small smirk on her face.
“That I am. And you are?”
“Huaping.” He held out a hand for her to shake, which she took. “What are you doing at this lowly party all by yourself?”
“Well, I’m not. I’m here with my boyfriend” is what Aang expected her to say- or at least something along those lines.
Instead, Toph said, “Well, I only save the world by day. By night, I like to party occasionally.”
“Yeah? Do you mind if I get you a drink?” Huaping asked with a smile that Aang was sure he called “the lady-killer.”
“Get me two.” Toph replied, keeping up with his flirty tone.
As soon as the other man stepped away, Aang sped over to her, almost knocking someone else over in his haste. “Hey, what- uh who’s that guy?”
“Huaping. He’s getting us drinks.” Toph said, blowing a piece of hair off her cheek.
“He wanted to get you drinks.”
Toph shrugged. “He can want to do that. I can’t stop him.”
Aang was frustrated; Toph didn’t seem to really understand his issue with the situation. “Toph, you were flirting back with him.”
“Just so he’d get me drinks!” She said, suddenly exasperated. “Aang, do you really think I’d actively flirt with another person while at a party with you? Or, at all?”
“No! I didn’t think you would that’s why I was so surprised.”
“I knew you could hear us, dummy.” Toph laughed. “Here, he’s coming back. Do you wanna claim me in front of him, Mr. Quick-To-Be-Jealous.”
Aang paused before admitting quietly, “Kind of.”
Before she got the chance to respond, Huaping’s voice made them both direct their attention toward him. “I got drinks- oh, shit, the Avatar.”
Aang saw him holding out the drinks and, before he could properly think, took them both out of his hands, gave one to Toph, and said, “Thanks, buddy.”
“Uh, you’re welcome.” His hands hovered in the air for a moment before he let them drop to his sides.
Aang slipped his arm around Toph’s waist, who naturally settled into his side without much question. “Hey, I think Sokka and Suki just came in.”
“Ah, gotta go then. Thanks again, Huaping.” Toph tilted her head, giving him the same smirk she gave when he first approached her.
Huaping lifted a hand as he watched them walk away. “See you later.”
Once they were out of his earshot, Toph started snickering. “That was a little mean, Aang.”
Aang grinned. “It’s only mean because you decided to lead him on.”
“But I got us drinks!” She lifted the cup up.
Aang buried his head into hair and gave her a kiss. “Just tell me to get you a drink next time. you vixen.”
“Fine,” she feigned annoyance as she conceded, but leaned her head back onto his shoulder and let out a sigh of happiness.
ALRIGHT SO - i finished my self indulgent character analysis of our little gay lord and savior, nico di angelo.
and let me tell you. THE PAIN really just makes him more gothy and i’m here for it.
under the cut if y’all wanna read it. your choice. except wendy, she has to read it bc i said so.
Summary:
There were many boys at one point. Boys with flames on their skin. Salt water in their hair. Lightning in their veins. And they all mattered…
The one with the animal heart and the one with a halo made of sun.
Each and every single one mattered.
But not like the boy born of shadows.
Never like him.
[Nico di Angelo would never walk a straight and narrow path, Hestia promised him that much. His would always be a journey marred by sadness, distrust and destruction. But sometimes, beauty can be born of hate. And acceptance can be found in even the darkest of nights.]
[An in-depth look at Nico's journey from the cliff of Bar Harbour to the Battle of Gaea]
Read it on AO3.
There were many boys at one point. Boys with flames on their skin. Salt water in their hair. Lightning in their veins. And they all mattered…
The one with the animal heart and the one with a halo made of sun.
Each and every single one mattered.
But not like the boy born of shadows.
Never like him.
Nico di Angelo remembers the death of his mother.
He was young but still, there is an imprint of the year 1941 on his brain, and the crash that came with Zeus destroying the ceiling.
The faint glow of his father’s power still wakes him at night. A black force field that could only be described as suffocating. The warmth that the Lord of the Underworld could create was never quite inviting though. It licked at you, like hot flames whose only goal was to singe. He had shielded Nico and Bianca from the physical harm, they had survived, but he left them torn.
River Lethe was strong, strong enough to wipe even a Titan’s memories Nico would later find out, but no power was stronger than a mother’s love. The memories of vows of vengeance that Hades swore had faded, the white marble of the Washington D.C. hotel had withered. But Maria di Angelo’s red lips and olive skin will never leave Nico’s mind. Nor will the first moment his father chose to protect him.
For a long time Nico would think it was the last. If only he knew back then how wrong he’d be.
They travelled some with a dark haired lawyer that asked but never listened. And they ended up in the Lotus Hotel.
Nico, even at his young age, heard whispers of The Child of the Eldest Gods and a prophecy to end all prophecies. It was drowned out by the lights of Las Vegas and the inviting doors of the Lotus Hotel.
A month passed for Nico and he and Bianca were swept away by a new lawyer with the same habit of questioning and ignoring. The world outside had changed. Washington D.C. had new subway stations, motorized vehicles had more efficient and ugly, everyone seemed to have something called a ‘cell-phone’.
They were taken to Westover Hall, a military academy in Bar Harbour. Things had changed, Bianca wore a hat and learned everything about this new, modern world that she could. Nico picked up Mythomagic and found himself loving something for the first time since his mother died.
There was so much heartbreak since then.
So many deaths. So many losses.
Nico swore he wouldn’t lose anyone else. Not after his mother had gone so suddenly. So he made Percy Jackson promise to keep Bianca safe.
Percy could do it! Nico insisted to himself. Percy was strong and experienced and he’d been on a quest before. His hair was dark and his eyes sparkled, Nico liked that a lot. Nico knew Mythomagic, he knew what kind of points the monsters would have that his sister would be facing. And she needed someone to watch her six. Someone who knew how.
Percy could do that.
He tried his best to keep his spirits up after the group’s departure.
It was still cool, that Camp Half-Blood was like Mythomagic brought to life. The lava climbing wall and real life land mines made for an interesting stay.
But still…he felt quite lonely.
He’d never been without Bianca before…
He’d never been alone…
On his first lone night, Nico stood apart from the campers gathered around the fire. They sang together off-key and toasted marshmallows as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Everyone seemed happy, everyone seemed at home.
Except Nico.
And that one young girl in a mousy brown dress with eyes like fire.
She stared into the blazes, her gaze softening as it grew with the intensity of the love around the hearth. She seemed so ordinary. Without thinking Nico drew towards her wanting to get a better look at her face. When he did, he noticed it was all together unremarkable. Freckles on the bridge of her nose, brown hair to match her dress but she had flames in her eyes.
She looked at him and said nothing. Still, there seemed to be an invitation in the air.
He took a seat next to her and stared in the blazes.
‘Your hearth,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s so small.’ Sorrow clouded her voice.
Nico felt vulnerable and naked. His hearth was practically empty. His father would feed him to the dogs, his mother had passed before he could grow old enough to remember her and his sister had left him behind. The coals of his hearth were barely glowing. He felt as if there was only one left and its ember was extinguishing.
‘A small hearth is still a home.’ His voice was as quiet as hers. His eyes never leaving the fire.
‘And home you will always return.’
The smile she gave him was small and the wisdom in her eyes seemed far beyond her years. She looked of Nico’s age but her demeanour betrayed her.
‘You have far to travel, Nico di Angelo.’ Her tone sounded sombre again. ‘You have much to face. But for your kindness you will be rewarded. You shall always find a place at my hearth.’
He wanted to ask her how he knew his name and what exactly she was talking about but a warmth filled his stomach. A sense of calm and serenity washed over him and suddenly it didn’t matter so much that his hearth was small or he had been left behind. This fire was warm enough and a hearth could be rebuilt with time.
His life had been touched by a goddess.
Since his time at Camp Half-Blood, Nico’s powers had grown. He felt the souls passing on, meeting the ferryman at the River Styx. He felt the marble shake with his father’s anger and watched as the flowers wilted when he walked.
But nothing quite made him feel like the Son of Death than when Percy came back without Bianca and only a Mythomagic figurine to make up for it.
Nico had wondered before why his father had such rage built up inside him. Why he couldn’t just accept the life his siblings chose for him? But in that moment, Nico understood.
With every step Bianca took towards her hearing, Nico felt the pang echo in his chest. As if he were standing there with her, he could see the gold masks leering down at him. He felt the ringing in his ears.
The rage exploded inside him like a volcano and sizzled the pity Percy tried to shovel on him. The hero he had in his mind, the greatness Percy Jackson encompassed, had disappeared. The fluttering in his stomach, the butterflies that took flight when he looked at Percy, they withered and died as Bianca was sentenced.
The amorous feelings, as amorous as a ten year old kid could feel, he had towards Percy were marred with darkness and stained with hate. Still… when the skeleton warriors pounced Nico couldn’t help it.
He saw Percy get disarmed. The ringing in his ears increased. He brought his hands to his head, trying to shake away the sound. The darkness grew inside of him, like a ball of energy ready to combust until he couldn’t take it anymore.
‘No! Go away!’
The ground split open and the skeletons were swallowed by flames and earth. One crunch later and not a single bone was left to be found.
Panting, Nico’s eyes moved from the fissure in the ground to Percy. He looked back at the kid, wide-eyed and awestruck. Bianca may have died but Darkness has just risen.
One step forward was all it took for Nico to shout a curse at Percy and run into the shadows of the woods. With this he would leave behind any feelings that Percy Jackson awoke in him.
-
The road to Daedalus is dark and messy. Minos whispers in his ears with a voice as smooth as silk and provided both comfort and education. The things Nico learned with Minos he will never forget. Shadow travel, raising of spirits, conferring with the dead. It took some practice but eventually Nico made it back from his accidental trips to China and succeeded in summoning a soul.
Theseus’ words were muddled and unhelpful. His gaze drawn constantly to Nico’s ghostly guide, unsettling the young boy. He senses your power. That was what Theseus had said but he hadn’t said who. Darkness closed in again and Nico was alone, no one but Minos and an empty pit.
When he faces Percy next, Nico is disappointed to find that his heart still skips a beat. He likened it to a minor heart attack first and thought perhaps he’d be able to find Bianca that way but when the sensation passed with Percy’s eyes still on him, Nico only looked back coldly.
Your soul is worth nothing to me! He wanted to shout at Percy. How dare he think his soul could be exchanged for Bianca’s? Bianca’s soul was worth thousands of Percy’s. No amount of good looks and boyish charm could save him from that.
‘Let’s ask Bianca.’
That was what Percy had said. As if her appearance would rectify the wrong he had caused her. As if she would appear in front of Nico simply because Percy willed it.
If it were true, if Bianca showed this time, Nico would wring Percy’s neck.
He poured the root beer into the pit and let the words come from the deepest part of him. The chant brought about a mist and spirits followed it to kneel by the depth.
The chanting became forced and as Minos lowered himself and drank.
‘Be gone, Minos!’ He ordered.
The ghost flickered, hesitated and tried to stay. Nico’s voice strained as his power fluctuated and the ghost obeyed, albeit reluctantly.
The figure that followed formed into the glowing spirit of Bianca di Angelo. Silver snowboard jacket, olive skin and sad eyes.
She gazed at Percy and rejected his apology. ‘I made my own choice. I don’t regret it.’
Watching her raised, the words spilled out of Nico. ‘Why didn’t you answer me sooner? I’ve been trying for months!’
His heart breaks when she says, ‘I was hoping you would give up.’
‘Give up?! I’m trying to save you!’
Her hand stretches towards her little brother. He’d grown since they’d seen each other last. His eyes were colder, surrounded by dark rings. He’d become taller too. ‘Don’t do this.’ She said quietly. ‘Percy is right.’
‘You must listen to me,’ she implored, ‘holding a grudge is dangerous for a child of Hades.’ Her hand evaporated as it got close to his face. ‘It is our fatal flaw.’
She cocked her head, asking him for understanding.
‘You have to forgive. You have to promise me this.’
He shook his head like a child refusing to let their parent leave before they fell asleep.
‘You are close to the truth now,’ she told him. ‘It is not Percy you’re mad at, Nico. It’s me.’
The wound he had been trying to cover broke open. The scab felt raw and wet. He felt the hurt leak from his heart through his body until even his toes were drowned in sorrow.
‘You must overcome your anger. Or else it will be your doom.’ She insisted. Don’t do this her soul begged.
‘No! I am the son of Hades. I can.’
For the second time, a dead demigod spoke of Nico’s power before disappearing. It hurt all that much more because it was Bianca. When the mist cleared there was nothing left in the pit but a leftover smell of root beer and bad barbeque.
It rattled him to his core. The strength he felt surge inside of him. The orb of darkness that pulsed, sometimes so strongly that it forcefully pushed out of him and dark tendrils followed him when he walked. Souls cowered where he went, even nature couldn’t seem to thrive in his presence. Maybe he was destined for a life in the labyrinth. A life filled with darkness and solitude.
He yearned for laughter and peace. He wished he could imagine a life happiness. He thought, if he could picture it, which he can’t but if he could, maybe Percy would be there. Maybe he’d hold out his hand towards Nico and all would be forgiven. Maybe he would know that Bianca would give him her blessing and he would finally rest knowing that he was okay. That he was not deviant. That he was only human…
But he wasn’t.
He felt the darkness move inside of him like a pool of ink staining a white shirt. Noticeable and inevitable. When the dracanae captured him, his only thought was that he hadn’t found Percy yet. Minos betrayed him – not that Nico was surprised. He’d played enough Mythomagic to know who King Minos had been and his power over Darkness was strong enough to know who Minos had become.
The battle started and Nico was pushed to the ground. The iron on his chains bit into his wrists but as he watched the people he knew – his friends? – fight, he felt helpless. Annabeth duelled with her knife, Percy sparring with his sword. They weren’t holding their own. The emotion rammed into his chest and made the Darkness surge. Like iron against fire, the chains melted into smoke as they left Nico’s wrists. This is not how he would go down.
Percy would not die before he had atoned for his sins, not before Nico could understand why his heart still skipped a beat when the dark haired boy looked at him. Minos would not rise again to call himself the ghost king. Luke would pay for his treachery.
He starred at his ghostly former companion.
‘You do not control me, young fool.’ Minos sneered. ‘All this time, I have been controlling you. A soul for a soul, yes. But it was not your sister who will return from the dead. It is I!’
Spirits shimmered around Minos as his body solidified. The whirling energy inside Nico forced his entire body to awaken. His gaze hardened, his look one of ice.
You dare speak to Son of the Dead that way?
‘No.’ Nico insisted. ‘I am the son of Hades. Be gone!’
If looks could kill, Minos would have returned to the grave again.
‘You have no power over me. I am the lord of the spirits! The ghost king!’
A crazed look fell into Nico’s eyes as his dead tilted. He drew his stygian sword with intention and stared Minos in the face.
‘No.’ He held up his sword. ‘I am.’
He plunged the sword into the floor and ran through it like butter. He called to all the spirits that clawed at his feet and his mind. He ordered them to take back Minos and put back where he belonged, under the rule of Hades. The windows cracked and the ground boomed and suddenly the spirits around Minos veered towards him. When the fissure opened in the ground, much like the one that had appeared in Camp Half-Blood, Minos could not struggle against the souls holding him down. He could do nothing but disappear into the depths of the Underworld where he would forever walk with Nico’s shadow over his head. Spending an eternity knowing he had challenged the wrong Darkness.
The energy he needed to banish Minos sucked more out of Nico than he’d like to admit. His olive complexion turned pale, his sword hand could barely lift the weight of his blade. Still, he followed Percy, Annabeth and a strange red-haired girl called Rachel when they fastened him into make-shift wings.
They stopped at a gift shop, attempting to find a way back into the maze.
‘Daedaulus isn’t dead.’ Nico told them when they wondered if the labyrinth was even still alive. ‘That I know for sure.’
Percy thanked him as Annabeth and Rachel walked ahead. For a second it felt like pure adrenaline running through Nico’s body. He pushed the feeling away and muttered something about being even for the fight on the ranch and raising Bianca.
‘Minos was right.’ Percy looked at him confused. They walked in silence for a while. ‘Daedalus should die. To cheat death for so long. It’s not natural.’
‘So you were going to trade Daedalus’ soul for Bianca’s?’ Percy voice doesn’t sound accusing, more like the pieces are finally falling into place and he can see the big picture.
Nico walks in silence wondering if he should bare his soul. He looks at Percy and sees a glimmer of the boy he admired. The one that makes his blood pump faster than usual. He figures, now is as good a time as any – since he’s not coming back.
‘It’s not easy, you know. Having only the dead for company.’ His words are quiet and his eyes downcast. ‘Knowing I’ll never be accepted by the living due to my heritage. Having only the dead respect me, if only out of fear.’
‘You could be accepted.’ Percy answered. And there it was, that naïve optimism that made Percy so attractive. His blind desire to help and save and foster. But good intentions not a good life make.
Look at what happened to Luke.
-
Kronos strode towards them, shimmering gold eyes, Luke’s short cropped blonde hair and scythe in his hand – ready to take whatever path he deemed worthy.
Nico knew the only escape would be to venture back into the labyrinth but Kronos’ domineering voice giving orders shook him to his core.
As it always did when he was afraid, the Darkness within him pulsed.
‘NO!’ Nico yelled as Kronos ordered his cronies to target them. He clapped his hands together and pushed his energy outward. If it would have been visible, people would have seen a shadow fall over the fortress. A spire of black rock erupted and tore the building to pieces. Kronos and his servants were left under piles of debris.
And Nico had outed himself. Well, not outed as… he couldn’t even think that. But outed as one of the Big Three.
When Percy had said as much, all Nico could do was shrug. ‘Big deal.’
What was one more person on his tail.
-
They find their way back into the maze and into the cave of the Nature God, Pan. Nico’s life had been touched by the Gods before but this time, this time it was different. The shimmering form of Pan sat before them, glistening off the ruby and sapphire walls.
His pull so strong that even Nico fell to his knees in respect. Yet, there was something eery about the whole thing. Like Nico could feel the energy being sucked out of the cave and towards nothingness. As if it were only a fragment of a life, a well-kept memory of something already passed…
Only once did the god acknowledge his presence.
‘Dear Grover,’ Pan said, ‘you must accept the truth.’ His gaze moved towards Nico’s bowed head. ‘Your companion, Nico, he understands.’
Nico nodded slowly, looking up at the god. His answer hesitant. ‘He’s dying.’ Grover made a strangled sound. ‘He should have long ago. This…this is more like a memory…’ As Nico said the words, the world seemed to make sense again.
The god had held on long enough for his disciple to find him but still, the years had waned his strength and he was but a collection of hope left over. Fading was a god’s punishment for not staying relevant in the modern world. And the modern world had no place for nature the way it had in the past. The times of forest foraging and daylight dwelling was over, it was replaced with technology and skyscrapers and time running out.
Nico could feel the sand in Pan’s hourglass running out. It was about to let the last granule drop.
He gave each of Nico’s companions a message, a gift of wisdom. Only Nico was ignored. What could Pan teach Nico about nature that he didn’t already know. His power was the most natural of all – to watch life end and return to its birthing place.
Still the god’s words struck a chord with Nico.
The only salvation you must make for yourself. Each of you must.
Some souls have escaped the claws of death but that day, one long over due returned. When the lights faded, the cave was dark and the moss on the walls had receded. As had the holy presence that lured them there.
Nico felt the essence of the god disappear, until not even a whisper of it remained in the undead realm.
There was no time for rest or mourning. Though it seemed Grover would take time for the latter eventually. It took only one uncomfortable pegasus ride for Nico to fall back into his thoughts about Percy. The sea demigod was always protecting him, always bargaining with him, trying to make sure that Nico was safe. It was a selfless act, stupid, but still selfless. And for that Nico had to give him credit. The way Percy had chastised him for revealing his powers to Kronos made him aware of the fact that Percy had kept his secret. He hadn’t told anyone about Nico’s birth right or his heritage. And he had done it to try to save him.
-
The battle wasn’t over though. Luke’s plan, Kronos’ plan – whatever, had succeeded. They had infiltrated camp and were running rampage on the grounds.
It was quite a sight to see – all the demigods coming together to fight for their lives. A dozen dracaenae were heading towards the cabins when Percy alerted Nico of the threat.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his hands, straining as if an invisible force was resisting their pull upwards. ‘Serve me!’
The earth trembled and parted in the midst of the dracenae. Undead warriors, all answering to Nico, rose from the depths and engaged the enemies. He pushed as much of his power as he could into the corpses, daring them to oppose his will.
He sunk to his knees as the soldiers drew more and more of his energy to stay aboveground.
He gave and he gave and he gave. He watched the lady dragons get pulverized until his vision started to fade and blackness surrounded him.
When he woke, a figure was standing above him with a canteen of nectar. The people in his vision slowly started reforming from their three-fold selves and his sight cleared. Percy was hovering over him with more people fanned out.
His eyes landed on Daedalus.
‘I came to correct my mistake.’ The words struck Nico. The labyrinth could not continue, that much was clear. The only thing left to do was offer up one last sacrifice, a last trade to compensate for the damage the old inventor had caused.
Annabeth protested. ‘You won’t get a fair trial! The spirit of Minos sits in judgement –’
The inventor smiled at her ruefully. ‘I will take what comes.’ He turned to Nico. ‘And trust in the justice of the Underworld, such as it is. That is all we can do, isn’t it?’
Nico’s dark look didn’t waver Daedalus’ spirits. The boy nodded in agreement.
‘Will you take my soul for ransom, then? And use it to reclaim your sister?’
Nico’s eyes lowered and for a second he wished he could act like the boy that he was. But he knew he could not. Instead, he had to act like the son he was born to be.
‘No,’ His answer was firm. ‘I will help release your spirit. But Bianca has passed. She must stay where she is.’ Thus is law of nature.
Daedalus looked at him with reverence. ‘You are becoming wise, son of Hades.’ There was a pause. ‘I am ready to see my son…and Perdix. I must tell them how sorry I am.’
Getting to his feet, with much effort, Nico turned to the old inventor with his sword. He raised a hand towards the forehead of the old man and whispered ‘Your time is long since come. Be released and rest.’
The inventor smiled with relief and released as sigh so deep it seemed to have been held for eons. Slowly his skin became transparent until the gears behind it became visible. The machinery halted its whirling and the old man turned to ash and blew away with the wind.
Nico shared the relief the inventor had felt. Releasing a soul so long overdue and feeling it return to the depths of the earth had granted him some freedom. The souls bound to the mortal plane that evaded the clutches of Thanatos weighed him down more than he had realized.
-
Post-battle Nico spent a short time in the Apollo cabin’s med-bay where the head councillor prodded his bruises and poked his scratches with very little comment. The councillor seemed wary of him.
Nico felt the vitality in the cabin. There were plenty of campers running around and plenty of patients to be treated. Nico felt the life of each being in the room. There was a plump blonde boy at the back of the room. There was a small gathering around him, a kid maybe slightly older than Nico stood with his head bowed. The kid in the bed was dead. Nico felt his life extinguish on the battle field, still the medics tried to breathe life back into lungs and jump-start his heart with compressions.
It was no use.
Nothing good was going to come of the Son of Death hanging around in a place meant for healing.
Nico got to his feet, using his knees to push himself upwards. He spared a glance at Castor, the fallen demigod, a son of Dionysus if he remembered correctly. He had liked Mythomagic and had a twin. In another life, if Castor had lived and Nico weren’t shunned for his heritage, perhaps they could have been friends.
A sigh escaped Nico’s lips as he turned. He briefly caught the eye of the small boy standing at Castor’s bedside. A mop of blonde hair almost covered his blue eyes but still, they looked into Nico’s, wide eyed and wondering. As if to ask why are you leaving?
The implication of the question stopped Nico short.
He shook the blue eyes out of his mind and turned.
Nico had a lot of work to do. On himself. On discovering who he really was, where he came from and what his purpose was. Camp Half-Blood couldn’t help with that. There was a reason why Hades didn’t have a cabin on the grounds. It was best to keep death as far away from a haven as possible. And Camp Half-Blood was a sanctuary if Nico ever did see one.
He left camp with a short goodbye to Hestia. The goddess didn’t bless his travel or his journey but she did give him some advice.
Wisdom will come to you when you least expect it. And someday you must face your own shadow. Beware, Son of Hades, the path you walk will never be straight but it will lead you home.
He didn’t know what to make of her words but he chose to guard them closely and maybe soon they would become clearer.
He travelled the underworld and began to feel more at home amongst the souls that transcended through the realm. Sometimes Ms O’Leary joined him, more often than not though, he travelled alone. Daedalus’ hearing took place and although Minos pushed for a malice filled punishment, the Lord of the Underworld had other ideas. It was the first time Nico saw his father enact any type of power within his realm. Minos stewed quietly behind his golden mask and obeyed his master. He visited his father at court and found nothing but malevolence boiling below the surface of their relationship. Questions about his mother and the life he led before the Lotus Hotel remained a mystery.
Time passed quickly and before he knew it, days had turned into months.
He became familiar with the happenings of the Underworld and the created a map inside his mind. He placed all the rivers in his model and added in Asphodel and the Fields of Punishment. It was only when he got to the River Styx that he discovered something that may change the way his wind blew.
A plan formed in his mind.
A bargain made with his father.
And then, he went off to return to the one person that scared him the most.
He watched Percy from the bottom of the fire escape . The demigod gently placed a sprig into a small planter box and sprinkled it with nectar. The look on Percy’s face was almost melancholic, it pulled at Nico’s heartstrings. He took a breath and stepped into the shadows, and tried to leave any feelings for Percy at the bottom of the stairs.
‘Nice plant.’ He said, stepping out of the shadows.
Watching Percy Jackson jump was one of the few pleasures Nico had left in life.
‘Sorry.’ He said, not meaning it. ‘Didn’t mean to startle you.’
Percy’s eyes looked greener in the moonlight, the sprig that had grown in the plant box and the way he had handled it made Nico wonder if he’d ever be able to treat something with so much care.
For a mere moment, he wondered if he might, someday, be able to treat Percy with such care.
A compliment was on the tip of his tongue. Instead he said ‘I want to make you an offer.’
All business, all the time.
Over blue cake and soda, Nico explained to Percy what he was proposing. How Percy could save the world, how the tide of the upcoming war could be changed. It was risky and really, really stupid, still Nico was convincing.
But Percy was scared.
For that, Nico could not blame him. Still, he had to push.
He decided what Percy needed was time. And what he needed was answers. So he left Percy in New York to stew over his plan with the intention to return within the month.
It took him much longer than that. Almost a year passed before Nico next contacted Percy to set their plan into motion.
It brought him back to his time in the Underworld. Back when he thought there was no place a son of Hades couldn’t see. He should have stayed home, even if home was a ghastly castle made of black marble that provided a highway for souls to transcend their mortal lives.
There had been some comfort there though.
There had been Bob…
The most gentle of giants, the friendliest Titan in the world.
‘Time passes quickly.’ Bob had said to Nico as he cleaned the stairs of the palace. Though how that was possible for an immortal Titan, Nico did not know.
Nico sat on the marble staircase and watched the giant.
‘Never quickly enough…’ Nico had muttered under his breath. He had meant not quickly enough to forgo the suffering he was enduring but Bob had misunderstood.
‘You’ll see your friends soon.’ His tone was light.
‘Friends…’ Nico hesitated.
‘Bob would like to have friends.’ The Titan’s expression was thoughtful, melancholy even.
‘You’d need a friend like Percy.’ The worlds rolled out of Nico before he could stop them.
‘Percy…’ Bob looked at Nico curiously.
‘Yeah, you know…’ He swallowed his pride. ‘Someone who looks out for you when you’re in trouble. Who comforts you when you’re down and tells you no matter what it’s gonna be alright.’
‘Your Percy… he does this?’
Your Percy.
It shouldn’t have struck a chord with Nico but it did.
‘Yeah.’ He swallowed hard. ‘He does.’
-
He took the breadcrumbs his father gave him about his mother’s birth and followed them to Olympus. While he was in the area, he headed to Mount Othrys. Any chance to eavesdrop on a Titan was a good chance to take. While he was there he sent a dream vision to Percy, this was the time to push. Time was running out and he was running out of leads.
‘You see Percy?’ His voice barely a whisper. ‘You’re running out of time.’
A change in the air told him to return to his father’s realm. A shift was about to take place.
He followed his impulse back to Styx where he went to speak with Charon, the ferryman of the Underworld. Before he could greet the Spirit of Boundaries a presence drew his eye. Between a small group of people he found the head of tall dark familiar person. Beckendorf looks at him with recognition and regret.
Nico walks up feeling a little numb.
Beckendorf had been the best of them. Always the first to take the lead, the first to sacrifice, the first to comfort. He was in the wrong place. And yet, Nico knew that Beckendorf’s mortal life was over.
‘Hey.’ Beckendorf’s low voice was still comforting.
‘Hey.’
‘Nice place you got here.’ Beckendorf raises an eyebrow in jest.
Nico snorts. ‘Thanks.’
He sobers and turns to his tall companion. ‘Follow me. You don’t have to wait in line.’
Beckendorf walks behind Nico, who leads him to Charon and passes the ferryman with a nod.
They speak little on their journey to the hearing. Beckendorf asks if Percy survived the fall from the Princess Andromeda and for one awful second Nico needs to go searching for his soul and hope to Gods that he doesn’t find it. He breathes a sigh of relief. Percy’s soul has not passed on. He survived the explosion.
He tells Beckendorf as much and mentions that for his heroic sacrifice he will be granted admission to Elysium. Nico brings up rebirth but Beckendorf only smiles and shakes his head.
‘I’m waiting for someone.’
His stance is resolute. His eyes are clear.
‘If you see Percy…’ Beckendorf smiles ruefully. He will never see Percy again. ‘Tell him it wasn’t his fault. That he shouldn’t beat himself up over this. I’m good here. I’ve got something worth waiting for.’
Watching Beckendorf pass through the gates towards the court of judgement made Nico feel dizzy. He had seen demigods fall before, he had felt souls pass on a-plenty but this was different. Beckendorf had been the most competent soldier amongst their legion. And still, he had fallen. It hit close to home.
He needed to protect what little he had left.
He needed to protect Percy.
And he would.
After he found out about his mother.
The plan wasn’t thought through. He doesn’t know why he trusted his father and betrayed Percy. Tricking a guy into an audience with your undead Lord of the Dead father is the best way to get someone to fall in love with you – not. Still, there were some things that took precedent. And the di Angelo history was one of them. One of the few. Okay, the only thing.
The look of betrayal on Percy’s face had Nico looking away in shame.
The throat pin in the cell was definitely deserved.
‘I swear on the River Styx, I didn’t know what he was planning.’ Nico heard the rush of water in his ears as the oath was sworn.
‘You know what your dad is like!’
The anger was real and justified. Nico hadn’t given Percy any reason to trust him in the past and he may have just marred any chance he had of getting Percy to trust him in the future.
But Percy bathed anyway.
Even when Achilles told him to turn back.
It will make you powerful. But it will also make you weak.
Nico watched Percy stare in Achilles’ face and say no. If Luke had bathed, then Percy must too. It is the only way he would stand a chance.
Let the gods witness I tried.
The boys shivered as the wisdom of the greatest mortal hero to ever live rolled down their backs. Achilles disappeared and the river kept churning.
The minutes Nico spent on shore seemed endless. He counted the pebbles at his feet and tried to ignore the river that had swallowed his friend. A son of Poseidon couldn’t drown…right?
This was the only way. This was the right choice.
Nico repeated the words in his mind like a mantra. This will save him. This will set him free.
There was no doubt in Nico’s mind that Percy was the hero of the prophecy. That knowledge both hurt and healed him. He knew the object of his affection was going to be a great hero, was an honourable half blood but the same hero’s hubris may come at too high a cost. Nico would never be the child of the prophecy. It had nothing to do with his father’s taunts of Your sister would have done a better job. And more to do with the fact that Percy was just cut from hero cloth. He inspired loyalty and trust…and love.
And if he took this dip. If Percy came out of the river alive then he would be able to survive the prophecy and he would be saved!
Then we would thank Nico!
Then maybe…
Maybe they could start over.
-
After that night the trust was broken between Nico and Percy and maybe that was for the best. He stayed in the Underworld and attempted to persuade Hades to join the fight.
It was futile.
Their relationship, what was left of it, was strained and strenuous at best. Nico tried to implore his father but to no avail. He couldn’t understand why Hades would rather watch the world burn and him with it than protect what he loved by serving the greater good.
Only when he dug up Persephone’s flower beds and called upon his mother did he begin to understand the god he called his father.
‘Why? What is he hiding?’ Nico had asked Bianca when she took her mother’s place.
‘Pain. Hatred. This knowledge will only hurt you. Remember what I said.’
He clawed his way through her image, it was replaced by a series of scenes like something out of a movie.
He watched his own mother’s death and the destruction of life as he knew it. He felt he couldn’t take it all in until a girl entered the picture and Hades began to chant.
His eyes fully black, Hades looked possessed by an otherworldly creature. ‘I swear as long as my children remain outcasts, as long as I labour under the curse of your Great Prophecy, the Oracle of Delphi will never have another mortal host. You will never rest in peace. No other will take your place. Your body will wither and die, and still the Oracle’s spirit will be locked inside you. You will speak your bitter prophecies until you crumble to nothing. The Oracle will die with you!’
The screams of the girl would make Nico wake up in cold sweat for many years to come. So chilling was it, watching his father enact his rage on an innocent bystander.
Now Nico knew why Bianca had warned him. Grudges were fatal to the children of Hades because they had been fatal to their father. A curse born of hatred had caused the world to fall into chaos and it was their duty, no, only Nico’s duty now, to atone for the sins his father had committed.
It must have been a miracle that Hades decided to join the war, that Luke woke up at Annabeth’s injury, that Olympus didn’t fall at the hands of Kronos that day.
Hades was welcomed into the throne room with pats on the back and words of welcome. And Nico sat at the foot of his make-shift throne feeling like he might finally be worthy of his father’s attention. The Curse of the Oracle had been broken. Or so it seemed…
The next few weeks are something out of a dream. Nico is welcomed the same way his father was and for a while things seem to be looking up. He built his cabin with style. Obsidian walls and green fire torches. No cabin would compare.
He spent a little time in the med-bay again. This time his wounds were minor but his health had deteriorated due to his shadow travel. He would need to get stronger to shadow travel more often. The head counsellor was nowhere to be seen. The kid he had seen at Castor’s bedside treated his wounds instead. His bright eyes and sunny disposition were jarring. Still there was something calming about the guy.
‘Solace. Will Solace.’
After the blonde, Will, had covered Nico’s wounds in nectar and band aids, he held out his hand.
‘Right uh, Nico. di Angelo.’
He hesitantly grabbed Will’s hand, standing up. To his surprise, Will didn’t shiver or back away from Nico. He grasped Nico’s hand softly and gave it a shake.
‘Nice fighting and all that.’
‘Oh uh thanks.’ Nico, who had never really interacted much with people, became aware that it might be normal to compliment Will as well. ‘Nice… um.. healing and stuff.’
If Will thought his reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. He simply flashed Nico a blinding smile and threw up a peace sign.
‘Thanks.’ He gave Nico a wink. ‘See you round.’
With that he turned and exited.
The people he met – Annabeth, Grover, Rachel … Percy… they all became his friends. They became his reason for continuing his journey. Maybe the curse of Hades really had been broken. Nico finally felt like he had something worth returning to.
-
There were so many experiences that led Nico to becoming the person he was destined to be. Meeting Percy at Camp Jupiter had shaken him but he had remained strong. His father’s will would undoubtedly win. And his word’s rang true. Go to them. It is important you make this connection. The path was never going to be easy. Hestia had all but promised him that much. Whether Tartarus had always been part of that destiny, though, was unclear. But Nico knew if he could give it back – he would.
The pull of the pit had been too strong. It sucked him in like a black hole and left him feeling naked, empty and helpless. Still, he followed it. He knew he would find the Doors at the end of the burning road. Nevertheless, he drank the fire water and faced the Goddess of Misery, Akhlys. She had congratulated him on his sorrow and whined ‘Child of Hades, what more could I do to you? You are so perfect. So much sorrow, so much pain.’
He could add it to the things that kept him up at night. Her blood streaked face, his distress mirrored in her tears on the shield of Hercules. He would never forget the true face of misery and how it had welcomed him home.
In a way it seemed right for him to be overwhelmed in Tartarus. Overrun by Gaea’s minions. In a way, he had seen it coming. He had prepared for the worst.
The pomegranate seeds he ate had been a last resort. As the air in the bronze jar thinned and his pomegranate supply dwindled, he wondered if this was all he had been meant for.
To be a puppet in another god’s game.
He had been so close. He had found the Doors of Death. He almost saved them.
He had only just gotten Hazel back and now he would be the one that needed finding in the Fields of Asphodel.
He thought suffocating under Rome in a bronze jar would be the worst thing to happen to him since losing Bianca.
And then…
And then he watched Percy and Annabeth fall to their doom.
Lead them there! Percy had begged him. Promise me!
He saw them fall into blackness and almost jumped after them. He clawed at the rocks and bellowed and cried. Not again. Nico screamed until his lungs gave out. Bring them back! Bring them back! Bring them back! He was inconsolable.
Not again!
None of it seemed to matter anymore. He knew Percy could survive Tartarus, especially if Annabeth was with him. Nico just didn’t know who Percy would come out as at the other side.
Gaea didn’t want to give him time to dwell on it but he did so anyway.
He’d stay up late at night and watch the shadows dance against the walls as Coach Hedge walked up and down the hallway making sure everyone was in their own cabin. Not that Nico had anywhere else to go.
The last battle ran through his head like a movie. Some parts were marred by dizziness and fog because he hadn’t completely recovered from the asphyxiation in that moment but still, the outlines of the figures were clear. Percy was standing over him again. Percy was saving him again.
And all Nico could do was lay there trying to catch his breath.
The Death Trance had taken plenty out of him. The black clothes he wore seemed to slowly become one with him as he faded in and out of the shadows. It took his upmost control to not sink through the lumpy mattress he was sitting on in that moment.
He needed to be stronger.
He always needed to be stronger.
Bu there was no time. Every minute Percy (and Annabeth, he reminded himself) stayed in Tartarus was a minute longer they stood in hell. They needed a way out and Nico had to make it to the Doors of Death when they found it.
Nico would make sure that Percy and Annabeth survived their walk through the abyss. But it would be a whole lot easier with an army by his side…
Chasing the Sceptre of Diocletian brought Nico face to face with a demigod he thought he’d never see again. Jason Grace.
He looked different than Nico remembered.
His close cut hair had grown slightly, the glasses on his face (also new) seemed to be permanently askew. His strength hadn’t waned though. Jason still emanated an intense aura. Like that of a lightning storm coming to pass. Close, suffocating and inevitable. Still, he didn’t look so Roman anymore.
Nico had extended a challenge. Go with me to Diocletian’s Palace if you dare. And the son of Jupiter was never one to back down from a fight.
Maybe Jason had become a little more Greek than he’d like to admit.
‘I just can’t imagine how weird that must be, coming from another time.’
It almost made a shiver run down Nico’s spine. You have no idea.
‘No, you can’t.’ He wanted to end the conversation there but sometimes you have to take one for the team. Jason wasn’t trying to be hostile or interrogative.
‘I don’t like talking about it… Honestly, I think Hazel has it worse. Me…’ a beat. Not just him. ‘Me and Bianca, we were stuck in the Lotus Hotel. Time passed so quickly. In a weird way, that made the transition easier.’
‘Percy told me about that place. Seventy years but it only felt like a month?’
A hitch in Nico’s stride and a darkness that seemed to fall over them.
‘Yeah. I’m sure Percy told you all about me.’
If Nico had known who he would meet in the Palace, he would have never entered in the first place. Let alone taken Jason with him.
What Favonius said wasn’t cruel but it may as well have been because it felt like a sword sharper than his stygian iron one was being pushed through Nico’s heart.
‘I knew eventually you would return to look upon my master’s face.’
What little blood Nico had left in his cheeks drained.
‘The one you care for most … plunged into Tartarus. Still, you will not allow the truth?’
Panic rose in Nico until he felt the gall all the way at the top of his throat. His heart rate quickened and the grip on his sword loosened as his hands became sweaty.
No.
‘We’ve come for Diocletian’s sceptre.’ He struggled to keep his voice level.
The words Hestia spoke to him years ago came back to haunt him.
‘Your trials will be much more difficult.’ Favonius looked amused. ‘If you want the sceptre, you must face the god of love.’
Favonius almost ripped Nico apart by taking him to see Eros. But the grass that wilted at his feet and the blackness of his shadow that snaked out wasn’t only due to unforeseen air travel.
‘I don’t blame you for being nervous, Nico di Angelo. Do you know how I ended up serving Cupid?’
A knot tightened in Nico’s stomach, for a second he regained his stature and stood. ‘I don’t serve anyone. Especially not Cupid.’
What came next was anyone’s guess. Nico would have never thought that the god of love and the god of death were so intimately connected. But Cupid had been right, sometimes Death was kinder.
Blood ran down Nico’s sword arm, the red arrow lying at his feet dissolved with his wound. Nico’s fear was replaced by frustration.
He watched Jason get thrown around. First hitting the columns, then almost swallowed by a crumbling wall.
‘Stop it! It’s me you want. Leave him alone!’ He stretched out his arms as if standing in front of Jason and covering him would stop the god from attacking his friend.
Still, the taunting continued.
‘And you – what have you risked in my name?’
Anger burned in his stomach.
‘I have been to Tartarus and back,’ Nico snarled, his eyes icy. ‘You. Don’t. Scare. Me.’
For a second it seemed like Nico had found his fight again. ‘Give us Diocletian’s sceptre, we don’t have time for games.’
An invisible hand rapped against Nico’s cheek. He went flying into a granite pedestal. Head cloudy and throbbing, Nico tried to sit up.
‘Tell him, Nico di Angelo. Tell him you are a coward, afraid of yourself and your feelings. Tell him the real reason you ran away from Camp Half-Blood and are always alone.’
Something inside Nico broke. His eyes were shaking and he lost control. He let loose a terrifying scream as he realized that there was nowhere left to hide. Nowhere that Cupid wouldn’t find him. The ground split open and bodies of passed soldiers clawed their way to the surface until they surrounded Nico.
The darkness rolled off of Nico in waves so powerful Jason almost couldn’t withstand it. Every pulse of energy that Nico released, seemingly unintentional, brought with it a wave of hatred, shame and fear.
The images his power brought to the surface were ones he tried his best to supress. Percy’s smile, the clap on the shoulder he received after the Battle of New York, the way his stomach flipped when they were together.
To his horror, he realized Jason saw all the same things.
He looked over at the blonde in horror and urged his soldiers forward.
They grappled with the invisible god until he released a cruel, low laugh.
‘I wasn’t in love with Annabeth.’ Nico’s confession is hollow, his eyes downcast. He looks as if he has lost all his strength. The fight, the denial, it all left his body at once.
Nico crumbled to the ground with his soldiers and the darkness around him subsided. All that was left was a boy drowning in his own shame and misunderstanding.
Jason couldn’t believe how young Nico looked in that moment.
‘I hated myself.’ Nico confessed quietly. ‘I hated Percy Jackson.’ Because I loved him.
Cupid’s shape became clear, the white wings and black hair that belonged to the god were startlingly magnificent yet Jason couldn’t help but hate him. Love was cruel and Cupid was a monster.
‘Happy now?’ Nico demanded.
Cupid’s gaze changed, for a moment he seemed to almost pity Nico. ‘I wouldn’t say Love always makes you happy. But at least you’ve faced it now. That is the only way to conquer me.’
With the next gust of wind, the god dissolved and in his place was the sceptre of Diocletian.
It suddenly dawned on Jason that Nico’s story was not an ordinary one. He finally understood why Nico’s past weighed on him so much. To be born in the 1940s, during a time of war, a time where feelings such as Nico’s would have been shunned. It’s no wonder Nico battled so heavily with his secret.
The modern world that he lived in now, where acceptance was more wide spread than before, was not his home. Nico had always felt out of place. And the acceptance that the queer community got nowadays did not feel inclusive to the kid from World War II.
‘Nico,’ Jason said gently, ‘I’ve seen a lot of brave things. But what you just did… that was maybe the bravest.’
Jason was unsure if Nico’s battle with Cupid had changed anything within the son of Hades but over the next days he saw Nico firm up. His once starved body became taut with muscles though his skin stayed as pale as ever.
And waiting in front of northern coast of Africa was making everyone antsy. Especially Nico.
‘Any word from the king?’
‘Every day, he calls for me later and later.’ Jason sounded frustrated.
‘We need to leave,’ Nico insisted. ‘Soon. Percy is close to the Doors.’
Jason had his doubts. The king of the South Wind was uncooperative, the ship was no where near ready and now with Leo gone…
‘I promised I’d lead you to the House of Hades,’ Nico said, his voice hard as if sensing Jason’s uncertainty. ‘One way or another, I will.’
‘You can’t shadow-travel with all of us.’ Jason had already considered that idea but it was worthless if Nico wouldn’t survive the trip.
Bringing up Nico’s inability somehow made the orb on the sceptre glow. Hanging on Nico’s belt it somehow seemed to throb.
‘Then you’ve got to convince the king of the South Wind to help.’ Nico sounded angry. ‘I didn’t come all this, suffer so many humiliations…’ He trailed off but his intention was clear.
I did not suffer all these trials and forcefully out myself to you for you to NOT make it.
The dark energy that swirled around Nico and blackened the floor was unsettling. For the first time in his life, Jason thought this may be a foe he couldn’t defeat in battle. And he didn’t want to find out, if he was truly honest.
Jason wanted to be Nico’s friend but he wasn’t exactly making it easy.
The conversation shifted, for an uncertain amount of time it was always going to be about Nico’s coming out. Until he accepted his own feelings, that is.
‘It’s not like you’ve got a choice. It’s just who you are…’ Jason’s sympathetic voice sounded accusing to Nico.
‘Just who I am... What would you know about who I am? I didn’t choose any of this.’ He lashed out with his hands, swiping through the wind. ‘My father, my feelings.’
There was a pulse of energy.
But for some reason Jason began feeling just as frustrated as Nico.
‘I get it, what do I know. But Nico, you choose how to live your life. You want to trust somebody? Take the risk. Find out if I’m really your friend and if I’ll accept you. At least that’s better than hiding.’
The floor cracked, Nico’s eyes were cold and his aura seemed to be sucking in all the shadows from around him.
‘Hiding?’ It was barely a whisper.
Jason’s instincts told him to run, to grab his sword, to fight this threat. But he stood his ground.
‘Yes, hiding. You’ve run away from bot camps. You’re so afraid they’d reject you that you won’t even try!’ He pushed just a little further. ‘Maybe it’s time you came out of the shadows.’
Hestia’s words echoed in his mind.
And someday you must face your shadow. Beware, son of Hades.
For one unbearable moment, Jason felt like his bones were being pulled towards the Underworld and then it passed. Nico dropped his eyes and the fissure in the floor closed. The ghostly light around the son of Hades faded.
‘I’ll honour my promise,’ Nico’s voice was barely a whisper. ‘I’ll take you to Epirus. I’ll help you close the Doors of Death. Then that’s it. I’m leaving.’
For a second Nico wonders if he and Jason were always mean to butt heads. After all, it was Zeus who had smited Maria di Angelo. How could Nico be sure that Jason was any different than his father? This olive branch was nothing but rotten.
The journey to the House of Hades was nothing but unsettling, even for the children of the Underworld. Nico marvelled briefly at Hazel’s ability to crumble a house sized boulder into nothing before they continued their journey.
They reached the chalice filled with dark green liquid. Nico felt he was at a crossroads. Hecate was watching. Nico drank and offered it to Jason.
‘You asked me about trust. Well, here you go, son of Jupiter. How much do you trust me?’
Jason’s eyes glinted but he didn’t hesitate grabbing the cup from Nico. Jason drank never breaking eye contact as if to dare him. Next question. He all but threw the goblet at the others.
Nico hid his shock. An olive branch if he ever did see one.
The group continued downward.
A shudder made his way through Nico’s heart. He kept walking. It happened again. He saw Hazel pause too, ever so briefly. He briefly recounted the time. Twelve minutes. The Doors of Death were opening every twelve minutes.
Then Frank saw a ghost and the plan Nico had in his head went down the drain.
They were surrounded. On all sides.
‘Nico, the sceptre!’
He raised it and the dead with it. Not that it was much use though, Jason couldn’t command them and neither could Frank.
‘My rank,’ Frank realized. ‘I’m only a centurion.’
Nico carved through a gryphon with his stygian sword.
‘Well, then promote him!’ He shouted at Jason as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Jason didn’t hesitate.
‘Frank Zhang! I, Jason Grace, praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata, give you my final order: I resign my post and give you emergency field promotion to praetor, with the full powers of that rank. Take command of this legion.’
Then, the battle changed and Nico couldn’t help but smile.
Watching Frank take control of the legion of undead soldiers had Nico thinking: maybe this guy wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe he could trust Frank with Hazel.
They won. Nico could barely believe it but they won.
A glimmer of hope ran through him.
Until, he staggered. His heart panged and he knew something changed.
‘The Doors,’ Nico said. ‘Something’s happening. We need to go now.’
Hazel and Leo were in full battle mode when they arrived. And Clytius was a terrible foe, even Nico had to admit. They attacked as a group. Even Annabeth and Percy had their weapons raised. Every time the giant attempted to tackle them with his dark smoke, Nico stood guard and absorbed the dark energy. For the first time in his life, he understood what it felt like to inhale and feel true air in his lungs. The substance Clytius released did nothing but agitate Nico’s hunger for darkness more.
Still, watching the giant burn to death had been awful but nevertheless, Nico felt a sick sense of relief.
There was hesitation in his step. Being so close to Percy after almost losing him. He couldn’t help but feel slightly paralyzed. He managed a ‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ and kissed Hazel’s forehead. ‘The ghosts were right,’ he said. ‘Only one of us made it to the Doors of Death. It was you, it was always supposed to be you. You would have made dad proud.’
She noticed his eyes were bloodshot and his face was wet with dried tears. Something had broken inside her brother recently and it was all flooding to the surface now. She wished so badly she could give him some peace of mind and some comfort. But she didn’t understand what was going on. And he wouldn’t tell her.
He got goose bumps as he realized Percy was standing behind him holding up Annabeth. Hazel suggested shadow-travel and Nico winced. ‘Hazel, I can barely manage that with only myself. With seven more people –’ I would die. He thinks.
I don’t want to die.
It’s an afterthought, the first time he had ever thought such a thing, but still it rang true.
‘I’ll help you.’ She’s insistent. And so he believes her.
The pain in Nico’s chest intensified as they sat in a circle and traded war stories. He watched Percy lace his fingers through Annabeth’s and felt like the loneliest person in the world.
Jason caught his eye, his gaze sympathetic. Nico couldn’t do anything but turn away in shame.
Later, when the commotion had passed and Nico was rigging up the statue, Percy found him.
‘Thank you.’
Nico stops. ‘What for?’
‘You promised to lead the others to the House of Hades, you kept your promise.’
Nico’s words are curt and guarded. They have Percy hesitating and rubbing the back of his head in discomfort.
‘Also…’ Percy said, ‘you visited Bob…You convinced Bob that I could be trusted, even though I never visited him. I never gave him a second thought. You probably saved our lives.’
Nico’s face darkens. ‘Yeah, well, not giving people a second thought. That can be danger.’
Confusion joins Percy’s discomfort. ‘Dude, I’m trying to say thank you.’
Nico’s laugh is humourless, there is something icy in his gaze. ‘I’m trying to say you don’t need to.’ You’ll never need to.
He made the one decision that made the most sense. The Athena Parthenos needs to go west, so he will take it there. Along with Reyna and Coach Hedge.
-
The trip was hard.
Not as hard as surviving Tartarus but still, by all means, hard.
There was no comfort to be found on their journey. His gang slept in their tent on the outskirts of a road that seemed endless.
Maybe he would have felt warmed by the fact that Jason prayed to his dad every time he burned an offering. And that Hazel begged for his safe return. He plagued the thoughts of the Seven.
Reyna lent him her power in their moment of need which was good because he barely had any left. With every jump, he felt the darkness spread. It wasn’t like the darkness he had felt with Clytius, that darkness had strengthened him. This one tried to consume him. Until he was nothing left but shadow.
‘It’s not mind-reading,’ Reyna had said about her gift. ‘Not even an empathy link… just a temporary wave of exhaustion. Your pain washes over me.’ Hesitance. ‘I take some of your burden.
Shame and embarrassment washed over him.
‘You should rest,’ was the only thing she told him.
There was a lot of time spend unconscious for him. A lot of time for him to mull over the last few months. Sometimes he saw Akhylis, the Goddess of Misery, other times a vague picture of his father floated around his mind. Most often though, he was tethered down the thoughts of the Seven. He waned past all the usual painful memories and always landed back on his friends. Hazel’s face, Jason’s intense eyes, Frank’s look of determination.
He had plenty of grief during his waking hours too though. He wished he could find some peace in his sleep.
The most peace he got was when Clovis dragged him off course and into Hypnos’s dreamscape. The detour was annoying but nonetheless helpful. He watched Will Solace, the lanky boy from the med-bay, diffuse a row between Clarisse and Rachel. The combat medic had something of Jason in him. Brave, loyal but the eyes were different. The eyes… bore right into your soul. Even in the dreamscape, Nico had to look away.
When he awoke he had no choice but to follow the burning man into his father’s chapel.
He felt his father’s presence before he saw him. Like a cold shadow that falls over you.
Nodding at the skull lined walls he asks his father dryly ‘Getting some redecorating ideas?’
‘I can never tell when you’re joking.’
‘Why are you here, Father?’
A pulse of embarrassment rushes through him as Hades mentions the sceptre of Diocletian and it’s… exploded state. It had been enough to rouse the god from his confused state. Still, that was not why he had come.
‘So tell me, Father. What do you want?’
‘Can you entertain the notion that I might be here to help you? Not simply because I want something?’
Nico suppresses a snort. ‘I can entertain the notion that you might be here for multiple reasons.’
It turns out Hades can be useful. He tells of Orion, the fallen archer who gave in to bitterness and anger after being scorned by love. ‘You can understand that.’ Hades had said to Nico.
What do you know about what I understand?
‘Still there is more,’ Hades said, ‘Your sister.’ He falters. ‘Your other sister. Hazel. She has discovered one of the Seven will die.’ Nico’s heart stops. It couldn’t be… ‘She may try to prevent this. In doing so, she may lose sight of her priorities.
Would Hazel be safe? Would Jason?
Nico barely notices that now, Percy is an afterthought.
‘Who will die?’
Hades’ eyes face the floor. ‘Even if I were certain, I could not say. I tell you this because you are my son. You know that some deaths cannot be prevented. Some deaths should not be prevented. When the time comes, you may need to act.’
Great, more responsibility.
A softness enters Hades’ face and his tone. ‘My son,’ he said, ‘whatever happens, you have earned my respect.’ Nico swallows hard. ‘You brought honour to our house when we stood together against Kronos in Manhattan. You risked my wrath and guided that Jackson boy to the River Styx.’ For a second Hades reverts back to his old self. ‘Never before have I been so harassed by one of my sons. Percy this and Percy that. I nearly blasted you to cinders.’
There’s a hollowness in Nico’s chest. That feels like a lifetime ago.
‘I didn’t do it for him,’ he insists. ‘I did it because the whole world was in danger.’
Hades allows his son this lie and gifts him the faintest of smiles. ‘I can entertain that you acted for multiple reasons.’
Nico can’t stop his eyes filling with tears. There was something under the surface there, something close to acceptance.
‘You and I rose to the aid of Olympus because you convinced me to let go of my anger,’ Hades reminded him. ‘I would encourage you to do the same.’ Sadness twinges his voice. ‘My children are so rarely happy. I… I would like to see you be an exception.’
‘My son, what you are attempting – shadow-travel across the world, carrying the statue of Athena – it may well destroy you.’ Nico thought he imagined the pain in his father’s voice. But there was nothing to be done about that.
‘I will see you again,’ Hades promised. ‘I will prepare a room for you at the palace. Perhaps your chambers would look good decorated with skulls of monks.’
‘Now I can’t tell if you’re joking.’
Hades’ eyes shimmered. ‘Then perhaps we are alike in some important ways.’
-
Lycaon followed just as Hades had said he would. And Orion did too. Their escape led them to Old San Juan. It led Nico to realize that maybe Reyna was as lost and bitter as he was. The only memory left of that part of their trip was a Hawaiian shirt and the glowing figures of Reyna’s past.
‘I can’t,’ she pleaded, as if asking the spectres for forgiveness. ‘Please, I can’t.’
Nico raised his hand and stood in front of her. The ghosts dissipated but they both knew they would never truly be gone. He would shield her from this.
‘I don’t want to talk about San Juan.’ She said when they arrived at their next destination.
For the first time, Nico found himself giving out advice. ‘You should,’ he said, ‘That’s the thing about ghosts – most of them have lost their voices.’ He turns to her and shrugs. ‘In Asphodel, millions of them wander around aimlessly, trying to remember who they were. You know why they end up like that?’ She gave no answer. ‘Because in life they never took a stand one way or another. They never spoke out, so they were never heard.’
She takes in his words. And he does as well.
‘Your voice is your identity,’ he continues, ‘without it… you’re halfway to Asphodel already.’
Damn, he needed to take his own advice.
‘I don’t like talking about it either,’ he said, looking into her eyes, ‘but sometimes, you have to.’
What Nico learned about Reyna that night thoroughly changed his opinion of the praetor. She was strong and resilient and came from such a broken home. Nico listened attentively, rarely commenting, only taking in.
In the end, the PTSD got to Reyna’s father and he became ‘a mania…’ Nico speculated. ‘I’ve seen it before. A human withering away until he’s not human anymore.’
It didn’t help. Tears filled Reyna’s eyes as she confessed her sins to Nico.
‘I killed my own father.’
He shook his head.
‘No. Reyna, no.’ Nico’s words were firm. ‘That wasn’t him. That was a ghost, a mania. What you did, you did out of self-defence. You were protecting your sister.’ And he would never blame her for that.
‘You don’t understand.’ But he did, she just didn’t know it. ‘Patricide is the worst crime a Roman can commit. It’s unforgivable.’
‘You didn’t kill your father.’ Nico insisted. ‘That man was already dead. All you did was dispel a ghost.’
Her tears awoke something in Nico. A protective instinct that usually only flared up around Hazel, and more recently Jason, came to the surface. He knew a little something about pretending to be strong and putting on a face for everyone around you. And then secretly crumbling away inside like a rock slowly being eroded.
If there were ever a moment when Nico would have imprinted on someone like a duckling, it would have been that moment.
And then, Bryce Lawrence decided to threaten his duckling.
‘I am a descendant of Orcus, the god of broken vows and eternal punishment. I’ve heard the screams of the Fields of Punishment first-hand.’ He stared at Nico crazed. ‘And they’re music to my ears.’
Nico was paralyzed as undead soldiers clawed their way up from a grave that he had thought previously was empty. It was the first time someone had used their own power of the Underworld against him.
The skeletons grabbed Reyna and only then did Nico regain his senses.
‘Nico, take the statue and go!’
He looked down at his hands. They were transparent and smoky. Had Bryce been right? Was he losing his grip, literally?
His energy was waning. Even standing in direct sunlight couldn’t hold his molecules together anymore.
His eyes met Reyna’s and a warmth spread through him.
She shared with him her strength and her drive.
Bryce laughed as if he were invincible. ‘I hope they’ll execute you in the ancient way.’ He nods at Reyna. ‘I’ve always wanted to see that. I can’t wait until your little secret comes out.’ He flicked his pilum across Reyna’s face. A trail of blood poured down.
A beat. Silence.
And then Nico exploded.
The air dropped to freezing temperatures and the grass on which they stood withered and died. With a single, glass-shattering cry the darkness poured out of him leaving every living creature to experience exactly what pain and anger were.
Bryce had challenged Nico. And Nico would teach him.
You want secrets? HERE.
Bryce’s soldiers disintegrated into dust until all that was left was a shivering Roman falling over his own feet. Tortures of Tartarus and Akhlys, a suffocating bronze jar and modern world that didn’t make sense transmuted through the air.
Nico ripped the probation tablet from about Bryce’s neck. ‘You. Are not. Worthy of this.’
It took all his self-control not to hit Bryce across the face with it. Nico’s eyes were black and he didn’t blink as the rocks split and Bryce sank down to his waist.
‘You took an oath to the legion. You broke its rules. You inflicted pain. You killed you own centurion.’
They weren’t accusations. There was no defence. This was not going to be a fair trial.
‘You should have died for your crimes. That was the punishment.’ Nico cocked his head. ‘Instead, you got exile.’ The crazed look Bryce had carried was now mirrored on Nico’s face. ‘You should have stayed away. Your father may not approve of broken vows but I know another god who does not favour escaped punishment.’
The Underworld had no mercy. It only had justice.
‘Please!’ Bryce whimpered. But his beg fell on deaf ears.
‘You’re already dead.’
Bryce’s eyes widened in horror.
‘You’re a ghost with no tongue, no memory. You won’t share anyone’s secrets anymore.’
‘No!’ Bryce sunk deeper into the ground. ‘No! I’m Bryce Lawrence! I’m alive!’ He recounted it as if it were a mantra but his body turned dark and his skin became translucent.
Nico’s cold eyes gazed down at him.
‘Who are you?’
And Bryce couldn’t answer. Bryce was no longer alive. He would forever be a spirit with no voice. Just a nameless spectre amongst millions of others.
Nico swiped his hand through the ghost’s body. ‘Begone.’
And with that, he collapsed.
-
Three days.
That’s how much time they lost with Nico unconscious and his body barely a shadow.
He had been in a shadow coma. And it scared him.
Am I dying?
He expected them to recoil. To feel threatened and paralyzed by him after the show he had put on. He wanted to feel angry towards them for knowing they were judging him. But his anger wouldn’t materialize. He just felt… tired.
‘Why didn’t you leave me? You knew I couldn’t help you anymore. You wasted three days watching over me. Why?’
Reyna looked at him sympathetically. ‘I trust you, Nico. You lifted some of my burden. Your not the only one who lets out the darkness every once in a while. You shared your painful experiences; how could we not support you?’ Her face opened up. ‘We’re friends.’
‘Two days. The Romans will attack Camp Half-Blood in two days.’ Nico shook his head. ‘We have to hurry. I have to get ready.’ Even if it kills me. He realized.
But Coach Hedge relieved him of his burden.
Instead, they took to the sky with pegasi. And then they took a ride with Jules-Albert, Nico’s undead chauffeur.
He bid Reyna farewell with a grip on the arm.
‘It’s been an honour questing with you, son of Hades.’
‘You’re the most courageous demigod I’ve ever met, Reyna.’ The look in her eyes was almost too much. ‘I won’t let you down.’
Nico made it to the battle with two legionnaires and Jules-Albert at the wheel.
‘Leila, Dakota, Jules-Albert will drive you to the legion lines. Get out, talk to your troops, convince them to follow your lead. I need a distraction.’
‘I’m not hurting any of my fellow legionnaires.’
Nico supressed a growl. ‘No one is asking you. But if we don’t stop this war the entire legion will be wiped out.’ He looked at them, his orders clear. ‘I’m counting on you.’
They nodded at him.
‘I’m going dark,’ Nico said and faded into the shadows.
-
The second he jumped the shadows he began to dissolve. It wasn’t setting a great precedent for the battle. The voices called out to him Help us. Remember us. Join us.
He did his best to keep them at way and as he faced the sunlight, he answered. No! I am the son of Hades. I control the shadows. They do not control me. He rested his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
A brief look at Octavian’s tent had Nico wondering if maybe an assassination might solve their current problem. He didn’t have time to test his theory though. Will Solace tapped him on the shoulder instead. Nico jumped and almost took his head off.
The son of Apollo muttered through clenched teeth. ‘Nico, what are you doing here?’
‘Me? What are you doing here? Getting yourselves killed?’
He surveyed Will and his two companions, dressed in black with matching face paint.
‘You’re dressed in black with the sun coming up. You painted your face but didn’t cover that mop of blonde hair. You may as well be waving a yellow flag.’ He scolded. Will’s ears turned red.
Nico inquired about Coach Hedge making it in time for his baby’s birth. The group nodded.
Will grabbed Nico’s hand unexpectedly ‘My hands are still shaking. See? But I delivered it. A very cute little satyr boy.’
Nico pulled his hands away, ignoring the electric current that ran through his body.
He was going to go back to his assassination plan until Will spouted some nonsense.
‘No more shadow-traveling. Doctor’s orders.’
Nico wanted to make a comment about how Will’s ‘doctor’s orders’ didn’t really mean much since he went into the OP with his a scrub shirt, khakis and flipflops but it didn’t seem like the right moment.
Not worth it.
‘Whatever. You follow my lead.’
Nico revised his impression of Will on their way to manipulating onagers. Talented, yes. Cool-headed, yes. Stubborn, double yes. Aggravating, unbelievably so.
In the next minutes Nico learned he could add reckless to that list too. Will, with the intention of creating a diversion, sprinted off and engaged six Romans at once. He needed an assist.
‘Six at once, not bad.’ Will punched him in the shoulder.
‘Not bad?’ Nico asked blandly. ‘Next time I’ll just let them run you down, Solace.’
‘Ah, they’d never catch me.’ He shoots Nico a blinding smile.
They were moving towards to last onager when they were spotted.
‘Do we run?’ asked Lou Ellen quietly.
‘No,’ Nico said. ‘Let’s give them what they want.’
He raised his hands and called upon five skeletons. Watching the look on the Roman’s faces was almost worth his falling back and being caught by Will.
‘Idiot.’ Will held him up. ‘I told you no more.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Shut up. You’re not.’
The spat with Will caused him to miss the entrance of the entire First Cohort. Octavian at the helm. His purple robes shone in the sun, jewellery glittering around his neck. On his head he wore a crown of laurels.
He watched Will let out a piercing taxicab whistle and suddenly Octavian didn’t seem so high and mighty anymore.
‘My – my elite guard!’ Octavian spluttered helplessly like a complaining child. The dog-men crumbled at his feet. ‘Did you see what he did to my elite guard?’
Regaining his posture, Octavian marched right up to Nico and to his credit he didn’t seem the slightest bit scared. Nico felt Will tighten his grip, staring Octavian down over Nico’s shoulder.
Up close Octavian looked sickly and bare. A descendant of Apollo but only evident in the shade of his hair. The arrogance and lust for power, that wasn’t a child of Apollo. Octavian was nothing but a watered down copy of Will Solace. Whatever it was that made a child of Apollo special, that made them glow the way Will did, Octavian didn’t have it.
‘Tell me son of Pluto,’ hissed the augur, ‘why are you helping them? What have they ever done for you?’
Nico’s hand itched to reach for his sword. He could do it now. Assassinate Octavian. He could probably even manage before the First Cohort intervened… it would be worth it.
Still, he hesitated.
If he committed this act of murder and died – he wouldn’t mind so much. For the good of the world and all that. But Will, Cecil and Lou Ellen… they would become casualties of his plan.
It wasn’t right.
Octavian intervened in Will and Nico’s quarrel. ‘What do you mean you’re leaving camp?!’ If they lived long enough, they would be able to hash out whether Nico should stay at camp or not.
‘I see ruthlessness in you,’ Octavian encouraged. He looked greedy. ‘And I appreciate that. Step aside and allow the Romans to win.’
‘Don’t do this, Octavian.’ Will shook his head. ‘Don’t force your people to choose. This is your last chance.’
There was sympathy in Will’s eyes. As if the gift of prophecy had been granted to him again, as if Apollo’s head had finally cleared.
The clearer Will’s eyes got, the more crazed Octavian’s seemed in comparison.
‘I will SAVE ROME!’ He explained. ‘Now, Romans, follow my orders! Destroy these Graecus scum!’
‘Don’t be stupid!’ Will yelled, his voice almost as loud as the second taxicab whistle he’d let ring to stop the Greek armies from waging against the Romans.
He pointed to the sky. Nico couldn’t believe his eyes.
Reyna was flying on Guido with six pegasi hauling the Athena Parthenos behind her.
Reyna’s voice boomed. ‘Greek demigods, Behold your most sacred statue. I return it to you now as a gesture of peace.’
An intense energy emanated from the statue all across the Greek camp. Everyone stood dazed. The statue seemed to be speaking out to each of them individually.
Nico felt his throat close as the voice whispered. ‘You are not alone. You are part of the Olympian family. The gods have not abandoned you.’
Reyna asked for the help of the demigods. Unite, please, so that we can all thrive.
‘Listen to her!’ Nico insisted, marching forward. ‘Reyna risked her life for all of you! We brought this statue half way across the world, Roman and Greek working together. We must join forces –’
And then Gaea woke.
-
When the battle started, it didn’t seem to end.
Nico found the Seven or well… Six (Leo was no where in sight) on the hill. Nico hadn’t felt his soul pass… still, there were too many casualties to be sure.
‘He’ll be fine.’ He met Jason’s eyes.
‘Sure.’ Jason sounded unconvinced.
‘But…just in case… For Leo.’
Jason nodded. ‘For Leo.’
Fighting with Jason was almost like a dance. It seems although they were made from separate cloth, their threads were very much intwined. They fought in harmony like they had been doing it all their lives.
And then Will Solace ran up to Nico. He said one word into Nico’s ear.
‘Octavian.’
On their way to the augur they felt the Earth shake. Festus snatched up Gaea and soared away with her. Stunned only for a moment, they continued on their way.
As they got closer, Nico saw Octavian furiously messing with an onager’s levers. He kept glancing up at Festus. It seemed his intention was to shoot the bronze dragon out of the sky.
‘Octavian!’ Nico yelled.
With a start, the augur turned, not noticing his flowing purple robe getting caught on the trigger. He looked crazed, hungry.
Will walked forward with his hands raised. ‘Octavian, get away from there. It isn’t safe.’ He spoke in calm, quiet words. As if psst-ing at a frightened kitten.
Nico nudged Will and looked at Jason soaring toward Festus with Piper in his arms.
‘If you fire the onager, you’ll kill Jason and Piper and –’
‘Good!’ Gods, it was hard to reason with him. ‘They’re traitors. All traitors!’
Will tried again. ‘Listen to me. This is not what Apollo would want. Besides, your robes –’
When Mike Kahl showed up, a bruised bump on his head, Nico thought he’d have to draw his sword. The soldier only surveyed the scene and looked at the Centurion.
‘Are you certain, Octavian?’
‘Yes!’
‘Are you absolutely certain?’
‘Octavian, don’t.’ Will pleaded.
He stepped forward only to be stopped by Nico’s hand. ‘Will, we can’t stop him.’
He saw the dread in Will’s eyes, the pain of causing another human being harm. But Hades had been right, some deaths cannot be prevented. And some…should not be prevented.
Octavian cut the release and disappeared into the sky. The flaming fireball landed in the middle of the storm and exploded.
He had achieved his goal. He had saved Rome.
The only sound that Nico registered was Will’s shark inhale.
Nico felt a new soul join the ranks of the Underworld and it wasn’t Octavian.
No.
-
There was no time for rest and recovery. At least not for Nico.
He watched over the dead and honoured them with the proper funeral proceedings. So many casualties…
Many would be remembered as heroes. Even Octavian would have his place in the stories. But Leo was going to be the hero that no one forgot. The greatest sacrifice.
An oath to keep with a final breath.
Nico wondered who Leo had sworn to and if it was worth it.
They recounted the tales of bravery. Nico never thought he would see the day that Greeks and Romans sat around the campfire singing together. Even if it was a song of mourning.
Reyna stepped up and looked at the faces in front of her and thanked them. For their bravery, for their loyalty, for their loss.
‘We could have chosen hatred and war. Instead, we found acceptance and friendship.’
She turned to Nico with the warmest look he had ever seen and pulled him towards the flames of campfire.
‘We had one home,’ she said. ‘Now we have two.’
Nico didn’t notice but if he had, he would have seen Will’s approving gaze on the two of them. And even a little ways behind him stood Hestia. Disguised as a teenager, she looked out from under her headwrap and nodded. Your path has led you home, don’t you see?
Maybe staying wouldn’t be so bad after all…
-
At midnight, still awake, Nico saw a blonde tiptoe. His heart jumped but settled when a framed face came into view.
‘Jason.’ Nico greeted.
Nico knew he came to ask about Leo. There was no comfort Nico could give him. They hung their heads together. Jason wanted to convince him to stay. The more he blabbered on, the more endearing he became. ‘I probably can’t change your mind about leaving but I have to try –’
Nico’s ‘I’m staying,’ had Jason blinking so hard that he had to shake his head to clear it.
The joy was so prevalent in his face that Nico even granted him a hug. Soon, Jason was off talking a mile a minute about sharing a table and teaming up and, and, and. The fact that it was midnight didn’t seem to wear on Jason’s enthusiasm.
There was a tiny sense of peace that settled in Nico’s heart.
A true friend.
So that’s what it felt like.
-
Lucky.
That’s what Nico thought when Will ordered him to the Apollo cabin to rest.
Someone to look out for you. That’s what it seemed like.
In the midnight moon, Will’s hair seemed to shine brighter than usual.
‘I told you, no more Underworldly stuff, doctor’s orders. You owe me at least three days of rest in the infirmary.’
Will held up three fingers with an insistent look on his face.
Nico agreed self-consciously. Still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Will had asked where he had been. That he had been looking for him, that he had wanted to see Nico…
‘I hope you got over all that nonsense about leaving camp.’
Nico looks up with a start. ‘I – yeah. I did. I mean,’ he shrugs, ‘I’m staying.’
‘Good. So you may be dense but you’re not a complete idiot.’
Nico wants to threaten Will or say something back but he doesn’t get the chance.
‘You make yourself an outcast.’ Will told him. His tone would have been accusing if his demeanour hadn’t changed. He looked tired now, worn. Like someone that had seen hardship and wished it away. ‘How will people ever accept you if you don’t let them know you?’ It was the first time Nico had ever seen something resembling anger on Will’s face. His eyes were hard and his ears red.
A bout of confusion hit Nico. ‘Who would want to ever be around me?’ His voice is quiet, as if he were truly asking himself that question because he couldn’t comprehend it.
‘Me.’ This time Will’s eyes look open and honest. And a little hurt.
