Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

-. .. -.-. ---

Nico, once he ran away from camp and began his journey of personal identity at the ripe age of…70-something…quickly found himself in a state one might describe as ‘lonely’. It was something that he didn’t mind very much, besides the awful imposter syndrome that would befall him—you’re not that lonely, you have all the resources to make a connection—and besides the recurring soul-crushing grief in his daily life. Though grief, too, felt to be too personal a thing to share with another. No, he didn’t mind the lonely state; in fact, he found he was content in the loneliness. He wasn’t interested in inserting himself around people (though, in his time wandering around, souls and creatures became much too normal to protest) besides his sisters and a few choice others that lived in a grayer area of friendliness. Probably due to his cynicism and with his shroud of shadows, most people avoided him—he certainly did the same to them, and then some.

More pressing matters at hand, however, caused him to contradict that resolve.

“Nothing is dying.” Nico began as he marched to Chiron, shadows wrapping around his entrance. “Who knows about this?”

Nothing is dying. No one is dying. And, sure, that was something Nico definitely might’ve exploited three months ago, but between a handful of his own near-death situations from monstrosities that wouldn’t stop rising back up and the gradual lack of chittering souls in his ears, he was no longer a fan. Something had to be done.

Chiron looked at Nico with his wise, observant eyes, eyes looking over his disheveled self and hardened expression that stared right back before nodding. “There was a recent quest. Perhaps you could talk to them.”

For as long as Nico had been a camper aware of his demigod status, ‘quest’ meant Percy Jackson. …But that was impossible. From what he knew, Percy had been missing. So who was it?

(Although if it really was Percy, Nico di Angelo might very well run in the other direction instead.)

Nico twisted his ring, skull indenting the pads of his fingertips. “That’s not necessary—” He cut himself off.

Because that was a lie. Because as the ambassador of Pluto and, perhaps even more importantly, the only demigod son of Hades, he felt the mystery of the lack of Death laid upon his shoulders to at least investigate, even if it wasn’t his to solve.

And at the pace he was going, that meant getting help.

Chiron knew it to be a lie, too, aged eyes holding eons of knowledge to be conscious of the severity of the issue boring past Nico’s shadowy gaze, into his own brain and soul.

Nico exhaled. Inhaled. Broke the eye contact, blinking twice his usual amount as his eyes drew to the left, “…Who?”

“A son of Zeus—” What? “A daughter of Aphrodite, and a son of Hephaestus.” Chiron droned without missing a beat, “All of whom are certainly willing to chat with you. It’s your choice.”

Nico had the resources to be aware of many affairs in the mythological side of the world, but just then, as he stood in front of Chiron, he heard news that struck him silent. A son of…Zeus? A child of the Big Three that Nico wasn’t aware of? Nico, Bianca, Hazel, Percy, Thalia, and—wait.

Ja—Our praetor is missing. Please help find him.

The skull of his ring hit his bottom lip. Surely not.

But also…

From what Nico knew, both Percy and the praetor had gone missing around the same time, if not the same time. What if someone had meddled? And now he was here. Then that would mean—Percy was—

Nico seriously considered stopping his visits to Camp Jupiter for a moment.

But in the godly world, everything was connected. Thanatos’ disappearance and the disappearance (and reappearance) of the two demigods meant it was all the more reason to further his investigation.

But he couldn’t risk getting caught doing his own meddling, not now.

(read: Nico di Angelo felt fear.)

That meant…

He lowered his hand. “Zeus?” The only word he could manage upon his noticeable verbal stillness.

Chiron tilted his head. “Perhaps a son of Jupiter is more fitting.”

Well, that confirmed his suspicions. It truly and wholly must be—

“His name is—”

—And Nico would stay far away from him—

“Jason.” Grace. “Is he the one you wish to speak with?”

His mind ran. If I approach him, he’ll know who I am, no doubt. Can I risk that? No way. Are the campers aware of the existence of Camp Jupiter right now? Does Jason feel comfortable enough in this place to share that information?

It isn’t worth the turmoil, he decided.

“No.” Furthermore…

…To storm or fire the world must fall. The second line of the Prophecy of the Seven. Nico was unsure of why the words had taken his mind at that moment, but he believed it to be no coincidence. Suppose these two half-bloods, sons of Zeus and Hephaestus, were to be two of the seven, as Nico had realized upon hearing their titles. Storm and fire. Two devastating elements that were, in red and underlined, prophesied as coming tragedy.

Nico had learned his lesson. Don’t intertwine with foretold deaths.

(read: Nico di Angelo was not fond of losing people)

So, the daughter of Aphrodite was his best option. His head turned back to Chiron, mouth opening. “I think—”

“Nonetheless, I recommend you talk to Leo Valdez,” Chiron’s flowing tone interrupted as soon as Nico began. He’d been silent for at least fifteen seconds, he didn’t choose to talk at any prior time??? Nico felt his composure falter, a microexpression of exasperation flashing, settling within a blink. “The son of Hephaestus. He is in Bunker 9 most hours. He is isolated.”

He is lonely, he means. It is heard even so. Loudly.

(read: Nico di Angelo is fond of the lonely)

Nico knew what it was like to be lonely. Of course, he’d gotten used to it by now and even preferred it at times, but the average person, demigod or not, wasn’t meant to withstand loneliness. Even voluntarily. Nico twisted his ring. Chiron straightened up—

—Wait, was Chiron seriously guilt-tripping him? And succeeding?

Nico let it slide. He opened his mouth, and guess what?

A camper Nico didn’t recognize ran into the Big House, door slamming open and nearly hitting him, frantic talking and big arm gestures then ensuing from the camper—an injury in the archery range, the healer is busy, can Chiron come over? The exasperation and now thinly-veiled genuine annoyance lay on Nico’s face.

Why am I always getting interrupted?

When he saw Chiron beginning to exit with the camper, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Where is the Bunker?”

Chiron smiled.

(..--..)

Somewhere, the Fates held a wicked grin.

.-.. . ---

Leo had run away from various foster homes six times. He probably would’ve run away from more, if he hadn’t gotten caught in New Mexico. Foster homes couldn’t contain him. And he kinda-sorta-maybe-definitely hated them. It was like a grease fire and water.

It was probably for the best that he got caught when he did, because otherwise he wouldn’t have gone to the Wilderness School, met Piper and Jason—does Jason really count?—and then come here. But that was a whole ‘nother can of worms, because a) all of these things were foretold by a whole daunting prophecy which was oh, so reassuring and freeing to think about, and b) apparently he was supposed to feel more like he belonged here—hell, he was surrounded by his own siblings—but he sometimes felt the urge to disappear run away from there, too.

The point is, when someone runs away, they end up alone. Lonely. And Leo knew the presence of loneliness like the back of his hand, a repeat acquaintance in his life, something he didn’t welcome, but had learned to expect.

It could be worse. He could be bored. No, instead he was working on a project that may very well lead to his doom. Leo figured that he would be dead weight during this mega-quest, though. He couldn’t fight, and, based on his last quest, he had a serious knack for trouble, so he put as much of his energy as he could muster into building the ship everyday.

Because maybe that would allow him to let go of some of that guilt.

Really, he shouldn’t have time to even think about loneliness. It could only sit at the bottom of his chest, stirring around and festering for the moment he took a break. So what would he do?

Not take a break, obviously.

And when he did, it was ‘cause of company. Company = No loneliness, yeah? Not his siblings, since they came in to work, not chat. But Piper came pretty often, and Jason, too. No one else, though, besides Annabeth—which didn’t count, since she only came to talk about the ship.

What do they say? Three’s a crowd? It definitely didn’t feel like that.

Leo didn’t think anyone would come by today; Mondays (he was pretty sure that was the day of the week) had that effect. That was a double-edged sword, because that meant maximum productivity (as much as he could manage with ADHD) and also maximum isolation.

But surprise, surprise, Chiron walked in.

…Which also kinda sucked because Leo was focused without the fear of losing it for once.

He should stop complaining and get on with the story, right?

Leo wiped his hands on his jeans. Black grease stained them a long time ago, but he should at least make them dry (really, there was no reason to, he wasn’t going to shake Chiron’s hand or anything, but it felt…necessary? Maybe Chiron scared him.).

He stood, and felt his brain slide from ‘work mode’ to ‘totally-charming-Leo mode’. At least it was useful sometimes, even if it was just for not looking like a total shell of a person in public. “Hey!”

“Hello, Leo. How’s your work going?”

Leo nodded and leaned back on a (safe) spot on his work table. “Really well! Should be done in a few months, as planned,” He paused. Most people, especially Chiron, don't visit a busy guy like Leo. “So what brings you here? Not that you can’t come here, you’re always welcome. Sir.”

Chiron nodded kindly, probably used to the type of chatter that Leo was spouting at the moment. “You have a visitor.”

Huh. He wasn’t really expecting that. Especially since the two of them were the only people in the vicinity. Unless they were invisible. Annabeth? Nah, she would’ve told him in advance, and she definitely wouldn’t have gone through Chiron.

“Besides you?” Leo asked, puzzled. At that one, Chiron chuckled. (Score!) “Or are they coming later? Since it’s just us? Which is totally okay, by the way.”

Chiron narrowed his eyes, then looked behind him, and turned back around with a neutral expression, like he was fully expecting to see something but wasn’t surprised that there was actually nothing. Leo didn’t know how Chiron’s typically mysterious face yielded that entire sentence of explanation, especially since Leo sucked at reading faces, but that is exactly how it looked.

“He’s here.” Chiron continued. “He can be a bit…shy.”

So there’s actually no one there, Chiron. Am I looking for a ghost or what?

“I’m not shy.”

The voice came from the darkness—well, the entire place was pretty dim, but specifically the darkness at the wall behind Chiron. Leo couldn’t help but jump up when he heard the voice, but it quickly turned to watching with curiosity and a sprinkle of fear as a shorter, male figure melted away from the shadows. A clink of metal—was that silver?—hit the wall after the figure said the words. He peeled himself away from the wall to reveal his face in the light.

A pale, skinny guy in an all-black fit, slouching slightly, locked eyes with Leo. He couldn’t help the shiver that went through him as piercing eyes from the boy met his own. After a second, the glint of white metal—he was right, silver!—caught his eyes. A skull ring…which one was the god of the dead?

Whatever, he’d probably remember later. “¡Hola! Name’s Leo.” Just play it cool.

“Leo, meet Nico di Angelo, son of Hades. He requested to meet with you. I’ll be going now, but please let me know if you two have any issues,” Chiron prompted before turning swiftly.

Ohhh. Hades.

…Hades is one of the mega-important ones, right? Not to say Hephaestus wasn’t important, ‘cause he totally was. Just…Hades is way, way, way scarier. And this kid, who had to have been a year younger than Leo, at least, held, like, 60% of those intimidation skills.

Be chill.

“…So you asked to meet me? What can I do for you?” Leo felt his voice shake on the beginning syllables.

That’s not chill. Also, your hair is on fire.

His left hand caught the worktable behind him to lean back again, but as his right came back around to meet the other, he found there was no more table left to hold.

Was it nerves or had he really not noticed himself moving a full foot to the right?

He stumbled backwards with a slight crash. Nothing to worry about, except a possible explosion in a couple minutes.

Mierda.

He couldn’t help but ramble on as he stood up—how else could he fix his mistakes? By making a few more, right? “If it’s a weapon, you’d be better asking another Hephaestus kid. Oh! Um, and if it’s about the quest, you should probably ask Jason. He’s the camp hotshot, and he can back it up, y’know? But, uh, really, what’s up—”

It was at that moment Leo finally had the chance to look back at Nico’s face again. The slightly gaunt face caused Leo to falter and consider his words a little more. To look a little closer.

Nico was all bones with messy hair, and, if Leo recalled correctly, he hadn’t seen Nico before at the camp. If he wasn’t a camper, it made sense why Chiron would introduce him to Leo. Leo’d met just about everyone he could see so far.

But if he isn’t a camper, where does he live?

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Once again, the voice belonged to Nico.

His words meant that Leo had said his thoughts out loud.

He sputtered. “My bad,” He said, quieter than he had been before.

Leo was really messing up this time, huh? He wasn’t usually this…uncool. The Great Leo was way, way smoother than this.

“I’m clumsy for a mechanic, aren’t I?” Self-deprecating humor it is.

Nico tilted his head. “I’ve seen worse.”

Huh. That worked way better than I thought it would.

“What?! No way, dude. That’s impossible. Do I make top 5?”

Nico paused. And then said nothing at all. Or not. Leo nodded slowly, then cleared his throat. “Do you, uhh…wanna come in? Further, I mean. We can chat and…” He looked over Nico’s pale figure. “Have some food, if you want. I haven’t eaten yet, so great timing.”

It felt weird to be so genuine to a stranger. Leo was usually all-jokes. He guessed it was a way to vibe-check and also not reveal his true character.

(But Leo was all-jokes with everyone, wasn’t he? So what’s up with this guy?)

Nico looked Leo dead in the eyes before walking closer. “Lead the way,” He prodded. As he moved nearer to Leo, the shadows drew back and orange-ish light illuminated his features.

He had good bone structure. What?

Hold on. The only light in proximity to Nico shouldn’t make his features so visible…

…Is my hair still on fire? Oh, no, it’s just my face. Oh. No. Shit.

Still, as he patted out the fire from his nose, Leo felt himself beaming.

-. .. -.-. ---

Nico settled into a stool that ‘Leo Valdez’ had brought from who knows where as he mentally decided what questions to ask, the most effective and efficient way to get his answers. Nico wasn’t here to make friends, after all.

Should he be outright? Do you know why nothing is dying? Or skeptical? Tell me about your quest, leave nothing out. How intelligent was Leo Valdez? How quickly would he deduce Nico’s reason for being here?

“I’ve got soup,” Valdez said with a grin, “And let me know if you need me to adjust the thermostat in here. I know it can get cold.”

Don’t worry, he wants to say, Nothing is as cold as an alley with a runaway kid.

“That’s fine.” Nico replied shortly, instead.

Valdez seemed to ooze confidence, and the only exception was when Nico faced him with close-to-no reaction at all, which resulted in less jokes and probably more efficiency.

Is that cruel?

He held the bowl of soup in his hands. It wasn’t anything special, something they served at the Dining Pavilion, if Nico remembered correctly. It was too savory for Nico to really enjoy it, but it was warm.

The room was cold, to be honest. Nico just hadn’t noticed until warmth pointed it out for him, placed food into his hands.

He cleared his throat. “So,” he started, “I was told you recently went on a quest.”

It wasn’t a sentence he had planned on saying. But it felt right.

Which was strange. Nico was meticulous with his plans, always.

Valdez nodded. “Sure.” Then, he stopped, even though he definitely had more to say. A tinge of doubt seemed to wash over his eyes. “…Are you sure you’d want to talk to me?” He shifted. “Trust me, man, Jason or Piper would be better. If you’re sure, that’s fine, but you might be here for a while.”

And Nico did think about that. But he didn’t really want his position at Camp Jupiter to be revealed so hastily, and now that he thought about it, he didn’t really trust Aphrodite or her children and—and maybe a small part of him wanted to know why Valdez had put himself down, repeatedly now. A small part.

It’s just that he processes really quickly.

“I’m sure.” Nico answered immediately.

Valdez smiled hugely again, like how he did earlier when Nico came in. It was a little infectious, so bright and, honestly, a little reminiscent of his own self a few years prior. He had to take another drink of the soup to mask any emotion.

“Va, okay. Ask away then.” His voice sounded lighter and sweeter than his past few lines. Nico felt his throat constrict, guilt seeping in—is it my fault he was nervous before?

That was strange, too. Nico didn’t feel guilt for people he used very often. Perhaps this guy would have to be the exception to Nico’s rules.

Did that mean he should stay away, or keep coming back?

Nico tapped his spoon to his bowl, letting it click against his ring when it would bounce back up, a rhythmic sound that blended in with the sounds of machinery that hid within the Bunker. Might as well go all-in. “Was there anything strange that happened when you were fighting?”

He watched the gears turn in the mechanic’s brain, a well-oiled machine quickly unraveling Nico’s every intention. “Ohhhhh. You’re wondering about- What, was that all supposed to be strange? It was my first quest, didn’t know they had some weird quirk,” He said sincerely.

Not.

Nico stared, unamused. Valdez cracked an apologetic smile. “Yeah. They’re not dying. And there were some ancient people in the mix. You know about it, I guess?”

“Yes.” Leo nodded at Nico’s answer.

Then, silence.

Does he not want to know more? “Do you want to know about it, too?”

The boy laughed, a different laugh than when he would tell his jokes, something purer, a sound that reverberated off the shadows and machines and masterpieces in the making. “Nah. Got my hands full with the lady—” The lady?

Valdez jerked his head at his blueprints and mini prototypes spread out on his worktable. The ship. “—anyway. I’m sure I’ll find out sometime, yeah? Wanna know more about the quest? Or other things?”

Nico wasn’t sure why he felt relieved.

(A familiar feeling resounded in his bones.)

Oh Hades, help me.

Subsequently, the ground shook. Nico heard a small ka-boom!

I wasn’t being serious, Dad.

A voice cut through Nico’s internal scolding. “Oh, an explosion. Nice.” Valdez got up to check it out. Nico felt…out of place once he had. Just twenty feet, and the room was so much colder. Was it because he had fire abilities, a way with warmth? “Keep talkin’. I'll answer from here.”

But the distance would help Nico think more clearly, remove the exception to the rules that Leo Valdez happened to be.

(read: Nico di Angelo didn’t appreciate that the opposite was true, too.)

“Okay.”

.-.. . ---

Upon investigating the explosion, Leo found that it wasn’t anything to worry about since 1) It was something that he had created, not one of his siblings, so there wasn’t anyone he had to apologize to, and 2) it came from a personal, small project he was working on. If it was part of the ship, Leo might have gotten a little stressed.

Nico asked some more questions about his question as Leo decided to sit on the floor and fix the damn thing, after all. It was probably better to have something in his hands, anyway. Leo told him everything he knew and was willing to share.

“You refer to Hera as your aunt?”

“Ah, so you know Spanish? Well, actually, she was my babysitter, but you know how it is…”

And Nico would occasionally let information fall from his lips, too. Leo didn’t understand most of it.

“Wait, back up, back up. Who’s Thanatos?”

“The god of death.”

“I thought that was your dad.”

“There’s a difference.”

“Oh. And that guy’s missing?”

“Yes.”

Weirdly, he asked about Jason a couple times.

“I should’ve told you that at the beginning. So Hera teleported him or something to us the day the three of us were brought to camp, and his memories were lost during the quest. They’re coming back now. He used to be from another camp, in California, y’know? Crazy stuff.”

“Oh, really?”

So he asked about Percy in return.

“Do you know who he is? Percy Jackson?”

“…Yes.”

“He’s at that other camp, now, probably. That’s where we’re headed on the Argo II.”

“That…makes sense.”

Before Leo knew it, there was a small, mechanical bird in his hands, a genuine smile across his face, and a boy in front of him with all the answers to his questions. Nico had set down his bowl, empty for twelve minutes, left of the stool he sat upon. There was a light smile on his face, too, either from the large amount of jokes made from Leo (super highly likely!!!) or just from being content, as he had drained Leo dry of his memories of the quest.

Either way, it was a moment Leo photographed in his mind. Maybe he could draw it later.

“…And now we’re here. Festus is somewhere nearby in the Bunker, and all’s well for now.” Leo finished, fiddling with the bird and making any last touches.

There was a long silence that followed. A feeling of doubt crept up on Leo—what if Nico had melted back into the shadows now that he got all the information he needed? He didn’t really want to look up and find out.

But what’s a little loneliness?

The scrape of a chair—no, not a chair. The scrape of a stool followed after the thought was released into his mind, paired with several light steps backwards.

Sounds like a pretty strange shadow ritual. Leo looked up before he really realized what he was doing. Nico stared at something at the far side of the room with a look of…alarm?

Table legs moving across the floor. Leo didn’t even have to look. It came from an increasingly familiar noise that he heard probably everyday as of recently. “That’s Buford.” He told Nico seriously.

Nico’s eyes shot back at him questioningly. Back at Buford. Back to Leo. To Buford. Back and forth and back and forth. A moment of resignation, maybe?

Nico breathed out with his whole body, as if he got punched into the stomach—was he okay? It happened a few more times, in quick succession—no, this was something Leo was familiar with. Just not on this boy’s body. Laughter. It wasn’t loud or grand, but silent and shivering, lasting only a moment.

Leo would be lying if he said he wasn’t at all captivated. It sort of reminded him of how he would act like a fool in front of a pretty girl.

“You—have a sentient table? …Named Buford?” Nico got out.

Leo didn’t even try to contain his smile. “There a problem with that?”

“No, not at all.” Nico straightened. “That’s not even that funny, I don’t know why I…” He shook his head.

“My presence just makes it better.”

“Oh, that must be it,” Nico deadpanned.

Real silence came across them, then. It wasn’t a bad thing. Leo still felt the need to move his hands in his tool belt, find something to do, so it wasn’t a textbook comfortable silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

Nico walked over to Leo and helped him up. He set the small bird down on his worktable. “I’ll get going, then. …Thanks.”

Leo nodded. He really didn’t want Nico to leave, but Nico didn’t even go to the camp. Leo had no right to get attached and ask for him to stay. To come back.

But it was worth a shot, no?

“Um…Can I expect you sometime?”

Nico’s eyes widened slightly. “Me?”

“Who else? Buford?” Leo laughed. “But…Yeah. Come back, it gets…” Lonely. “…It gets quiet. We can talk more, if you need.” Leo bounced on his heels.

“Maybe.” Nico answered quietly.

Maybe. Leo couldn’t ask for anything more. “The Argo II could always use an extra set of hands working on it, too. I…If you’re up for that, of course,” Leo stuttered.

I want to know you better.

What Leo hoped his message conveyed.

Nico stared at him one more time, then turned on his right heel and back to the shadowy wall he appeared from. “We’ll see.”

And then he was gone.

Leo couldn’t recall the last time he felt this emotion. It was a little painful. He didn’t know if he liked it or not. But maybe it would be worth it.

No time to think about it, either way.

He was just lonely, right?

-. .. -.-. ---

As Nico stepped out into a Manhattan alley, he glared at the setting sun with memories flooding his mind—ones he had buried so deep, in crevices so hidden he’d almost forgotten about them. Bringing them out into the light, his eyes replaying them, burned. Percy.

The circumstances were completely different. Nico didn’t idolize that guy like how he had done with Percy, but the emotions were fundamentally the same. The pit in his stomach. Not fear, but something much more alive. Something that left him feeling lonelier than he had in months.

Why him? They’re so different.

After everything he’d been through, he wasn’t sure if he deserved to feel like this. Furthermore, he didn’t want to feel like this. The outcome was written in the stars—he would end up alone. This guy, who showed some interest, perhaps just being friendly, didn’t seem to be worth it.

Valdez was prophesied to die, with Nico’s luck.

Nico knew how to regulate his emotions. Mute them. If he got through grieving Bianca, he could get through anything.

(But he really didn’t want to.

He chose to turn his attention to what he had gleaned from the earlier conversation, instead. In terms of his investigation.

He already knew: Thanatos was missing, and the Doors of Death had opened.

More information Nico had learned from Valdez: Gaea, the goddess of the earth, was the mastermind behind everything (and probably what the final battle the Seven would have to fight). Nico didn’t particularly want to fight her, maybe ever, so staying covert seemed like a fine plan.

That was really the main thing Nico learned during the conversation that pertained to his investigation. But upon learning that Jason Grace, one of the praetors of Camp Jupiter, he thought to learn a bit more about that, too.

Jason had gone missing at the same time Percy, as Nico suspected, and it was definitely not a coincidence. Jason had lost his memories, and was actively in the process of gaining them back. Camp Half-Blood was now aware of the existence of Camp Jupiter.

As far as Nico was aware, Percy hadn’t arrived at Camp Jupiter yet (that could change any moment, though. Nico should probably make a trip there soon.), but when he most likely would, his memories would be gone, too.

Then, obviously he would get sent on a quest. Percy couldn’t seem to escape those. Nico had a feeling it wouldn’t be for looking for the Doors of Death. That was something Nico had to do. Still…

If Nico sees Percy again, will he experience that fight-or-flight emotion that he always felt when he saw him? I’m over him, right?

He didn’t really want to think about that.

Nico gazed out to the setting sun for moments that felt like eternities. When he stood up, he faded into the bustling hordes of the city, a nobody in a crowd of somebodies.

“The Argo II could always use an extra set of hands.”

Maybe so.

(read: perhaps Nico di Angelo did not want to be lonely anymore.)

.-.. . ---

“Ciao.”

It was eleven days after Leo Valdez had met Nico di Angelo for the first time. Not that Leo had been counting.

Leo’d kept himself busy during those eleven days, making major progress on building Argo II, giving it the beginnings of real, physical form. The only faces he’d seen besides the occasional times he would remember to eat down at the Dining Pavilion were his siblings, and the only conversations would be about the ship, too.

If it were any other project, Leo would’ve been bored out of his mind. It kept him up ‘til late at night, and he would sometimes see the Argo II in his dreams, too (though, Leo completely welcomed it when that happened, the alternative dreams being way more existential).

Safe to say, Leo wasn’t expecting to see anyone. He jumped upon hearing Nico’s voice.

He echoed from behind Leo, from a wall that surely hadn’t been so shadowy before. Leo (carefully) dropped whatever he was working on onto his worktable, turning around fast.

“Nico!” His fingertips felt like they were made of firecrackers, a random, not unpleasant-excitement bubbling and extending throughout his limbs.

He moved out of the shadows and into the light, shifting towards Leo. “Hey, Valdez.”

“Call me Leo,” Then, referencing Nico’s greeting, “So you speak Italian, too?” His mind raced with any clever conversation he could come up with. It was second-nature to him, but he longed for a quality talk, probably because he hadn’t engaged in small talk recently.

Nico shrugged, “I was born there.” He said briefly. That seemed to be the end of it, so Leo began to nod, to continue to converse, hear more voice. But Nico continued, “My accent comes out sometimes, you shouldn’t be so surprised.”

“Oh, whoa.”

The corners of Nico’s lips quirked the tiniest amount. Leo noticed. Nico cleared his throat almost immediately. Leo noticed that, too. “So, um…do you need any help?”

Leo tilted his head. Bits of dialogue, probably distorted with time, came over him.

“Come help build the Argo II?” That’s…really corny.

Way to go, Leo.

He brushed it off. “Always, Nico. Come with me, I’ll show you what we can do.”

As Leo and Nico made their way to the partially-made Argo II, Leo made comments to fill the silence out of habit, saying things like “Where’ve you been?” or “So tell me, are you really here to help or are you here just to see me?” (Leo sort of hoped it was the second one, there). Nico didn’t really give any clear answers, but he also didn’t complain, so Leo kept it up.

Leo’s hands were getting shaky, the lack of stimulation there ramping up as his nerves did the same. Usually, his tool belt would help him out, but this time it came up short.

Maybe it was defective.

(It was not.)

By then, Leo and Nico had gotten to the Argo II and were pouring over blueprints and the mast in front of him. She really was magnificent, even if she wasn’t at peak glory. If Leo had to guess, he would say it was around five o’clock, with the sun beginning to set. Working in the winter really isn’t favorable.

Leo also wasn’t sure if Nico knew exactly what he was doing, but he seemed semi-into it. Leo took it as a win.

…Every time Nico’s shoulder brushed Leo’s as the comfortably quiet boy leaned over, Leo felt that awful feeling in his chest, his stomach, once more. A thousand hammers clanging inside, wielded by Hephaestus himself.

Leo was certain there was a word for this pain.

“—eo? …Valdez?” Nico tapped the blueprint where Leo’s eyes had lay unfocused for a moment.

He snapped up. “Told you to call me Leo.”

“I did. You didn’t hear me.” Dark eyes narrowed as pale lips formed words—now, why was Leo thinking about these details? Leo hadn’t been attracted to a boy since—

¿Qué mierda? No, he wasn’t attracted to Nico, like that. That would probably turn out horribly. Even if—Even in the off-chance that he could possibly be attracted to Nico (a boy), there would be zero chance it was mutual.

He shouldn’t even be thinking about this—

“Leo.”

“Huh?” Leo turned his head swiftly to Nico, allowing himself to lock eyes—

Nope, bad idea, do not do that. It’s not helping your case.

He looked away.

—Nico’s head was tilted and his body had been closer before, as if he was prepared to shake Leo out of the trance he was in if it took any longer. “Lost you again,” he said.

Wait. The world had just slowed down.

His brain stilled, finally processing words from a moment ago.

Nico had just said his name.

Nico said his name. Sure, he said it before, but Leo hadn’t heard it then, and, goddammit, it sounded really nice. Nico hadn’t been lying, his accent did come out sometimes.

It sounded like how his mom used to say it, too.

This is wrong, his brain supplies. Why?, he wonders back.

“Uh—I’m…Yeah, I’m good.”

Nico shook his head and turned back. He seemed to be staring at the sun, or maybe it was the horizon. There it was again. Pain, fluttering pain, wracking the whole body.

“We should get dinner.” Leo had said it sort of reflexively in the silence, but Nico’s head turned a little more, his side profile on full display, a silhouette a foot away from Leo, sharp lines around the nose and eyebrows, features softening further down the face.

Leo wanted to reach out. He probably would’ve, if Nico’s lips hadn’t parted before settling into a downturned smile.

“…Shouldn’t you get to know me better first?” He said dryly.

Leo’s face went aflame.

(.-.. . ---)

That had to be a joke, right?

Leo wasn’t used to those sort of jokes, that’s all.

That’s fine, though, he can roll with this.

Leo coughed. Nico turned fully, his eyes tracing what were definitely flames around Leo’s face. Leo slammed his eyes shut until he felt the fire die down. “Okay, okay.” He held out a pinky. “Just come back sometime, then.”

Promise?

It was something. It was nothing. Leo didn’t know why he did it. He had Piper, or Jason, or Nyssa or Jake or Buford to talk to. But he held out his pinky to ask for this guy, wrapped in shadows like they worshiped him, to please come back and talk to me.

Nico didn’t say a word. He only looked at Leo for two, four, seven seconds, Leo in his whole pathetic and lonely self, and hooked his little finger to Leo’s.

When they let go, Nico stood up, seeming as if he was about to leave as abruptly as before. He turned, probably to search for the nearest shadow. When it seemed like he found a suitable one, he walked over, slowly and gracefully, then turned back to Leo, raising a hand. “…See you, Valdez.”

Leo scoffed, but his heart was still racing from the earlier moments. “See you, di Angelo.”

-. .. -.-. ---

Truth be told, Nico hadn’t gone out of his way to make a friend in way too many years—not to say he didn’t make friends. It’s just, when he did, it was a long, majorly one-sided, effort. Not his side. It wasn’t always like that. But that’s how it’s become. So now that he was pulling his weight, for the first time in years, with these rusty, old gears beginning to turn, he wasn’t sure if he was moving too fast, or coming on too strong, or being too awkward.

But Leo seemed okay with it.

Probably because Leo didn’t really know what to do either. Nico got the feeling that Leo was good at making friends, but keeping up with them was shallow unless the other person kept it up too.

The boy made of fire and the boy who could snuff out the flame were quite similar, Nico realized as he continued to ponder.

On the surface, Nico and Leo weren’t alike in any way, when it came down to aesthetics or accents or really anything most people had in common.

But they were both fluent in other languages, whether it was Italian or Spanish.

They were both busy—busy on purpose, not because they were pushovers.

They both knew how to hide behind (not-so) carefully crafted words (casual responses came easier when you’ve said the same thing enough times), and they both used their expressions to the maximum, whether it be negative (mainly Nico) or positive (Leo, 1000%).

Yeah. If you looked closely, Nico guessed they could be described, not as two sides of the same coin, no, but rather as two four-leaf clovers standing in the same field.

It wasn’t as much of a terrible feeling as he expected. To be seen right through, straight into your soul.

Don’t let these emotions fester, di Angelo.

“See you, di Angelo.” Valdez Leo He had called him.

Ah. Merda. He really did know this feeling all too well.

He’d deal with this later.

Nico came out of the shadows and stepped into sunny California, thousands of miles in mere moments. He was a busy guy, after all. He had to see his sister, find out how she’d been fitting in. He had to check if anything had happened in the days he was in the East, check if anyone showed up. Then, talk to the praetor, do his job.

Hazel was found stationed outside the Caldecott Tunnel. She’d gotten stationed there as a guard not too long ago, Nico recalled. When he quietly snuck closer, he heard faint voices making small talk.

Nico wasn’t really one to intrude on intimate matters, especially for something as trivial as a twenty-second interaction. So he stayed still and listened to their idle conversation. It wouldn’t last long, most conversations of this caliber didn’t.

But it did.

For, like, five minutes.

Is small talk really that interesting?

He coughed into his fist. Two heads whipped around, locking onto him. One gaze softened, one sharpened—some form of response, not defense.

He nodded at the guard he hadn’t met before, and focused on his sister shortly after. “Hazel.” His face softened at her, too. Family. Someone he’d brought back himself, someone who probably trusted Nico more than he trusted himself. Not someone who left him in quiet, eager confusion like Leo.

Didn’t he say he’d deal with this later?

“Hello, Nico.” Her voice carried a twang reminiscent of her former accent, a piece of humanity and uniqueness that the Fields of Asphodel hadn’t stolen from her.

They chatted briefly, with Nico mentioning he had to visit the praetor, and Hazel quickly backing off. Nico asked any lingering questions of how she had been doing recently and perhaps if she had been getting along well with everyone.

Hazel let him into Camp Jupiter.

Nico didn’t really enjoy staying at Camp Jupiter. (For the record, he didn’t particularly love Camp Half-Blood, either.) Even though he could now pass as a traveling Roman demigod, he once was caught up between the lares whispering graecus while cowering in fear and the need to wear togas for senate meetings. So, he mostly stuck to the shadows.

And when he couldn’t, like now, he made a don’t-even-try-to-detour beeline to his destination.

To the praetor. Reyna Ramírez-Arellano.

Praetor Reyna was a level-headed woman, especially when placed alongside the currently newly found missing Jason Grace. Nico hadn’t seen the two of them work together very long, but he heard things from the grapevine. Once Jason went missing, Reyna made quick work of utilizing Nico’s fleeting nature (he was pretty sure she didn’t know about his abilities, but heritage is heritage), which really proved to him her loyalty to her pantheon.

When Nico lost someone that important to him, he killed a couple skeletons and disappeared.

So, anyway, he had to go see her to give an update on his search. An entirely truthful update.

(don’tliedon’tliedon’tlie)

“Nico di Angelo.” A quiet but intense voice belonging to Reyna spoke as soon as he had entered the praetorium. She sat, as if she had expected him. Nico had never been one to be held down by a schedule, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “If you would.”

She gestured to the area in front of her, her tone of voice completely controlled, but Nico knew beyond that, she was desperate for news.

“Praetor,” He began. “As you requested, I’m here to give a report of what I’ve found thus far.” Nico had a winning hand, but should he play it? Had this Roman city been revealed to him for this moment? Should he uphold a prophecy, or play with even more unforeseen consequences? “…Unfortunately, I’ve found nothing that would interest you.”

(fuck.)

Jason would be found sooner or later.

Camp Half-Blood, his first camp, didn’t deserve the bloodshed that would quite possibly follow. After all, Camp Jupiter was well-versed in organized war. They were probably eager for it.

And…maybe he wanted to get to know some of the people better before he made a decision.

“Interest me? So what about you?” Reyna was quick to pick up on the unsaid words.

Nico sighed, a little more openly than he probably should have. “I found information to a personal quest.” He said shortly. Nico hoped she would drop it.

She did.

“Then,” She said, “Please let me know as soon as possible when you find a trace of…anything.”

Nico nodded silently. He felt himself turn around and leave the praetorium, away from any eyes, and soon, straight into the shadows.

(read: Nico di Angelo would not look for ‘anything.’)

(For no reason at all, of course.)

(-.. .. -.-. ---)

Nico wasn’t too sure why he was the connecting factor between the two camps. He was just fourteen. Sure, he was a kid of the Big Three, but so was Percy or Jason, or even Thalia. Thalia would’ve made a lot of sense, too, with her nomadic nature. Maybe Hades wanted to get ahead of the rest?

Whatever it was, it caused Nico a lot of stress. Especially since he was already busy trying to figure out more on the Doors of Death.

Honestly, what Nico needed the most right now was a nap. Was he going to take a nap? No, he was going to go fight a couple semi-intellectual monsters and force a few answers out of them.

(-.. .. -.-. ---)

Or he could get beat up.

Fighting off four empousai was not a great time. Even though Nico wasn’t attracted to them at all, they still packed a punch. Times four.

Nico felt about his pockets—ambrosia, nectar, anything?—but no dice. He needed to get out, fast. He cut down three of them as the fourth regenerated, wracking his brain to find the nearest shadow, trying to pinpoint a destination as fast as possible.

The fourth empousa lunged, nicking wow that’s a lot of blood his neck as he stabbed her with his Stygian iron blade. He backed up, way faster than he should’ve had energy for, straight into a wall.

Well, it should’ve been a wall.

The shadows engulfed him, out of the grasp of two fully-regenerated empousai, to anywhere safe. Anyone.

Ah, anyone?

He tumbled out of a shadow, the scent of oil filling his lungs, inducing full-body coughs, which couldn’t possibly be good in this state, but at least it wasn’t golden dust and flaming hair—wait, no, it might be that, too.

Whatever. Nico’s getting that nap, now.

.-.. . —

When you spend the majority of a 24-hour day in a forge, you tend to stop noticing little things, like Buford running around, or the clicking of morse code from…anywhere, really, or sometimes, boys curled up into a ball, nearly choking.

Leo caught that last one about what he hoped was only five minutes after he appeared. (He wasn’t too sure. The shadows kept him hidden really well.) He was running over before he fully registered 1) what he was holding, 2) what he was dropping, and 3) the possible consequences of the previous actions happening.

Small explosion, small price, he guesses, not for the first time.

Especially for the health of one Nico di Angelo, wrapped in shadows and his leather jacket, pale skin ever paler, cold boy even colder.

Leo kept ambrosia and nectar somewhere, just in case one of his daily injuries were more severe than a papercut or a hammer to the thumb. Where, where, where? His eyes darted around, not particularly wanting to leave the side of the boy now nearly fading in his arms.

There!

On a table about twelve feet away. Leo jumped up (carefully, this time), ran over, and came back in record speed.

“Nico?!” His voice was hoarser than he imagined it would be—man, did he drink any water today?—but still used to call out to Nico. Leo knew how to check pulses, but he opted to administer ambrosia first. As his hands pulled away to fix their positioning, unfurling Nico—gods, he was light—he saw the blood blossoming into his hands. Not good, not good.

Leo fed him the ambrosia and nectar, watching, mesmerized as the color returned to Nico’s face, if only a little. The better metric of whether or not Leo nursed him back to health properly was the breathing going from sounds of pain and agony to a little more than shaky.

“Thank the gods.” He whispered.

It was at this moment when Leo registered the positioning of the two, what the hell he just did, and how quickly he had dropped everything for this guy.

But Leo would’ve done that for anyone, if he knew them at all, right?

(Wrong!)

Leo was tempted to wake him up, or to place him in a bed, just for his own peace of mind, but Nico had also been literally going transparent, in Leo’s arms, just seconds ago. He didn’t really want anyone dying on his watch, especially at camp.

So he sat with Nico, gingerly moving his head to rest atop his right thigh, pulling out some metallic trinkets and letting the Argo II rest somewhere in the middle of his mind for the time being as the latter breathed in, out, in, out.

Leo stopped moving to watch his breathing at some point, one hand quickly and involuntarily finding its place in Nico’s dark hair.

His own lungs stopped working for a while, when he noticed that.

(.-.. . --- / ?)

Whether it was from the nature of Texas, Leo’s crippling inferiority complex, the growing imposter syndrome, or his internal need to appear as simply more than he is, the boy of flames never allowed himself to seriously consider romance. He expected that he might one day, if he stayed in one place long enough, to find himself in a relationship, but in every iteration of that imagination was an unknown, beautiful woman.

Here he sat, though, that expectation shifting into something else, unconsciously and not necessarily welcomed, as he was filled with care for the boy attached to him, something warmer than casual affection, similar to a fire.

(A fire that, hopefully, wouldn’t burn them both.)