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Nico Di Angelo was in many ways a demigod that was set apart from the rest. Usually it was the fact that he was a son of Hades, god of the Underworld and his dark deathly aura that scared people away. Other times it was his self given title of, Ghost King, or his strange pale complexion and dark eyes, his never changing aviators jacket, his unique Stygian iron sword that no one knew how he got. And very few knew that Nico was a demigod from another era, having been born somewhere in the 30s. And even fewer were aware that Nico Di Angelo was actually… gay. In fact, there was only one person. Nico wished there was none.
The boy sat on the steps of the large staircase in Hades' palace. He examined the dark shining steps; his reflection dark. Sometimes it would be months until he saw his reflection. It always made him wonder how he changed so much yet so little during periods of months. Footsteps echoed downstairs. He looked up to see Persephone, his now step-mother. As usual, she looked stunning in a wonderful dress and, as usual, she was spending her day aimlessly while hating her residence. She regarded him for a second or two and then moved on. At least, she never tried to turn him into dandelion anymore.
He looked back at his reflection. Old, he thought. If Time was right then he must be so old.
But I'm not that old at the same time.
And young, but he felt his soul was old and tired. And he was a coward. He wasn't bold like those he looked up to. Percy and Jason and Bianca, Hazel... He wanted to be hopeful that they can all live long and happy lives. He wanted to believe that there was hope in the world even when right felt wrong and wrong felt right. Af for his sister, wherever she was, he was sure that it was a better place. He had trouble letting go of things.
Bianca.
Hazel.
Percy.
He sighed and buried his face in his hands. He felt so alone.
Why would tears come up now? After all this time?
Nico still couldn't settle his feelings. He felt scattered.
Back then, saying… admitting his crush out loud to Cupid had been the hardest thing he ever did. Nothing could come close. Not really. He would lie about it, of course, to anyone who asked, to Jason who knew, but even if it killed him he would lie. He was sure that somewhere out there Cupid was mocking him again.
And his words echoed:
"I wouldn't say Love always makes you happy. Sometimes it makes you incredibly sad."
Yes. He was sad.
He lay down in his big bed and stared at the ceiling so high he could hardly tell how close or far it was. He still couldn't set foot in Camp Half-Blood. He would hardly go to Camp Jupiter too. Cupid must be laughing all the time with his incompetence and cowardice. At how he was losing his sleep with thoughts about love. At how many nights he lost while Percy was in Tartarus. With her. With Annabeth. He had guilty thoughts of 'what if' Percy had let her go and he could have pulled him up which still kept him up all night. He doubted his conscience would ever be clear.
And then he would lose his sleep to thoughts about Percy. What ifs that even he couldn't understand. If Percy knew, would he even be able to accept it? Could he understand the pain caused by this love? The images of them two together were not just a figment of his imagination. They were more fake than anything his mind ever came up with. Jason would still ask him about it. He would ask Nico if he was alright, if he wanted to talk about it. Nico always declined. He was thankful to him not saying anything and believing that the others would also be understanding but he didn't want anyone knowing.
He fell asleep slowly and dreamed of the what ifs and all the different possibilities once again. Empty dreams. Fake dreams. Perhaps Morpheus teamed up wiht Cupid on this and made him dream of cool summer nights at the beach of Camp Half-Blood, lying should to shoulder with Percy staring at the sky.
They must be, he thought.
It was driving him crazy. He had to stop thinking about Percy. Percy who belonged with Annabeth. Percy who, even though he loved him and it ached his heart as if it was burning, was going further and further away from him. Percy who he hated.
He sighed out loud. He often did this. It was his old but young age, his stretched over the time soul. Sighing was a release. He stared deep in the river a few feet away. Being a demigod was harder than it seemed. There were expectations he had to meet. Maybe for some it was cool. They were stronger than he was. Not in combat skill or smarts, but in things they cannot even understand. Nico understood.
He kneeled on the river bank and threw a coin for Iris to get a message through on a whim. He didn't think it would actually work in the Underworld but Percy's face appeared quickly. He seemed as surprised as Nico that it had worked. Nico couldn't say anything, he just stared at him. Percy must have asked him a million times in those few seconds if everything was all right. Maybe his face was giving him away. Nico interrupted the iris message just in time. He couldn't let Percy see him weak. He barely managed to mouth an inaudible '…bye' before breaking the connection.
He shook his head. Maybe Iris was a decent goddess after all, despite the rainbows. She had granted him this wish. Or maybe she was in the 'now mocking the son of Hades' team too. Nico didn't want to think about these things anymore. He was too tired and it was late.
He cleared his mind leaving only Percy's image linger. The so called happy moments. That's all he wanted to remember. The good times, the things Percy showed him, the things he taught him.
And he stepped in the river not fighting, but letting himself sink, letting the water envelop him.