Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bianca kept a tight hold on Nico like she knew--just knew--what he was thinking, but she couldn't stop his eyes from following Jason Grace.

This morning, life had sucked. And now there was a guy with a xiphos--a xiphos!!--standing in front of him, talking about Greek gods and mythology and all of Nico's favorite things in life and how they were real. It was a dream come true.

Nico had known him for a grand total of thirteen minutes, but he was already certain--Jason Grace was everything he wanted to be. Jason was tall, fit, handsome; he was only a year older than Nico, but he spoke with authority and everyone, even the black-haired girl with the bad attitude, listened to him. He'd beat up Dr. Thorn, who Nico had always thought was a jerk, like it was nothing. He'd swan dived off a cliff to rescue that blond girl, and when he couldn't find her, flew back up to the group.

FLEW.

Nico wanted to be able to fly, too.

As soon as Bianca was distracted, Nico wriggled out of her grip and dashed over to Jason. Even though he was obviously the leader, Jason was sitting apart from the others--Bad Attitude Girl, Worse Attitude Boy, that nervous kid, Grover, from Bianca's Pre-Algebra class who was apparently a satyr (AWESOME), and all the weird teenage girls carrying bows and arrows and pitching tents in the middle of the snowy field like it was no big deal. His xiphos had turned into a watch, and he was twisting it around his wrist like he was nervous.

"Hi," Nico said, lacing his hands behind his back. He'd left his coat in the school, but he was too excited to be cold. "Are you really the son of Zeus?"

Jason looked up, startled. His eyes were brighter than the winter sky overhead--more like a Blue Raspberry lollipop. There was a totally badass scar on his upper lip; Nico wondered what monster he'd been fighting when he got that.

"Yeah, I am," Jason said. He twisted his watch again.

"Do you think I could be a son of Zeus, too?"

"Probably not."

Nico frowned, disappointed, and Jason laughed.

"You're definitely the kid of someone powerful," he said reassuringly. "Grover said so, and it's his job to sniff out demigods, so he'd know."

Nico kicked at the snow. He wanted to sit next to Jason, but there wasn't a ton of room on the big rock the guy was on. And Nico didn't want to bug him too much. Bianca was always reminding him not to annoy other people.

"Can I see your sword?" he asked. "It's a xiphos, right? Like, three hundred attack points, plus a lightning assist--do you have a lightning assist?"

Jason tapped the face of his watch, and it transformed into a gold short sword. "It doesn't have attack points," he said. "But it's good at cutting things, I guess. I summoned lightning with it once, but then I had to have it repaired. It's Imperial gold--not a great conductor."

He offered the sword to Nico.

Nico would have willingly died then and there. "I can hold it?"

"Don't swing it at anybody."

Nico seized the sword eagerly. It was heavier than he expected, but it didn't feel weird to hold in his hand. It felt right. He grinned. "This is so awesome. Can you cut down trees with it?"

"Uh--never tried."

"But it shoots lightning?" Nico swung it experimentally, and almost lost his grip. His face flushed. "Um, here. You should take it back."

Instead, Jason got to his feet and came to stand behind him. "No, you've almost got it," he said. "Don't overthink--demigods have a natural affinity for weapons. One of the few things we have going for us." He chuckled. "Just--use both hands to hold it. Yeah, like that, good. And remember, it's more about how you stand than how you swing."

He grabbed Nico's thighs, guiding his legs to a sturdier position. A flash of heat ran through Nico, similar to the excitement he felt when he picked up a new Mythomagic card. Nico didn't understand it, but he edged away from Jason's touch.

Jason didn't seem to notice, straightening up and coming around to stand in front of him. He raised his arms like he was going to fend Nico off with his bare hands. "Okay, try swinging towards me," he said. "Aim for between my arms."

It was a terrible idea, so Nico was all for it. He held the sword over his shoulder like a baseball bat, then arced it down, grazing the zipper of Jason's winter coat.

"Not bad," Jason said, grinning again. "Next we'll have to work on types of strikes." His eyes fell on something beyond Nico, and his grin faded. "But, uh, back at camp," he added, taking the sword out of Nico's hands.

Nico whirled around. Bianca was glaring daggers at the two of them, of course. She ruined everything. Jason probably wouldn't like him now and it was all her stupid fault because she treated him like a little kid.

"Sorry," Jason said. He sounded as miffed as Nico felt. "But my sister is giving us the stinkeye." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Your sister?" Nico asked. Jason pointed to the black-haired girl, engaged in conversation with one of the Hunter chicks but still looking over at them every few seconds. Her eyes were the same shade of blue as Jason's.

"It's so embarrassing," Jason mumbled. "She acts like I'm five. She's probably afraid I'll decapitate you, or something. She didn't even want me to have a sword in the first place."

Nico went starry-eyed. Jason was speaking his language. And he didn't dislike Nico; he understood.

"Anyway," Jason went on, "there are sword lessons and stuff at that camp we mentioned. It's great, there--you can learn all sorts of cool stuff. Archery, sparring, rock climbing, aerial battles--we have Capture the Flag games and campfire singalongs and--" He stopped, his cheeks going pink. "Sorry. I mean, you'll see it soon enough so you don't need me rambling about it."

"It sounds cool," Nico said. He was actively fighting the urge to clap his hands and jump up and down. He settled for a little hop, unable to totally control his excitement. "How long have you gone there?"

"I live there," Jason replied.

"You can do that?" Nico grabbed Jason's arm, eyes widening. "Seriously?!"

"Well, some of us have to," Jason said. He looked sad for a minute. "We don't have another choice. But anyway, I've been at camp for--" he paused, ticking off on his fingers, "--six years."

"Holy cow. I've never been anywhere that long," Nico said. "The longest I ever stayed was at a hotel, a couple places before this. But I don't remember how long for." He frowned. Even his memories of the hotel itself were kind of fuzzy, which was weird. But it had always been like that, so he glossed over the lapse.

"Anyway, I--"

"Nico di Angelo." The Hunter that Jason's sister had been talking to came over, Nico's backpack in her hand. Nico had thought it was lost when he left it behind in the gym--he was over the moon to see it again.

The Hunter offered him the pack. "We have retrieved thy things from the school, and settled matters with the staff," she said. She spoke funny, like a character in one of those books Nico was supposed to read in Classical Literature (and never actually did, because the words all looked squiggly and never made sense). "Jason Grace." She acknowledged Jason with a nod. "Lady Artemis wishes to speak with thee."

"Oh--okay." Jason tapped the hilt of his sword, and it morphed back into a watch. If being summoned by a goddess at all fazed him, it didn't show. He glanced at Nico.

Nico didn't want to be left alone, and maybe that showed in his face because Jason slung an arm around his shoulders.

"You know who also knows a ton about sword fighting?" he asked, guiding Nico back to the others. "Percy Jackson. Percy's been stabbed more times than anyone else I know--right, Perce?"

Percy, the guy who'd been even grumpier than Jason's sister since the blond girl fell off the cliff, looked up at Jason and scowled. He was older than them by a couple years, and he looked kind of scary, his blue-green eyes way wilder than Jason's calm, steady gaze. There was a rip in his jacket where he'd been clawed by the Dr. Thorn-thing. Someone had bandaged his bare arm underneath.

"Just hang with him for a few," Jason went on, and followed the Hunter away and into a tent.

Nico looked at Percy.

Percy looked at Nico.

"So," Nico ventured. "What does your sword turn into? A necklace?"

"Don't be stupid," Percy muttered.

Chapter Text

Jason was only eleven, but the goddess Artemis made it clear she didn't want him in the sanctum of her tent for longer than necessary. He didn't mind; all of the gods creeped him out to some degree, but Artemis was the worse, because she looked so ordinary. She had the same upturned nose and sprinkle of freckles as his big sister.

She warned him of the unrest in the demigod world, which he was already aware of, and graciously agreed to give him and his friends passage back to camp. She promised to look out for Annabeth, who'd been captured during their battle with the manticore. Jason was still feeling bad about that; even Nico's awestruck face couldn't wipe away the guilt of not catching his oldest friend.

He should have never listened to Percy. Since Thalia returned a few months ago, the older guy had been acting differently--more reckless, less thoughtful. And since Percy wasn't the world's greatest thinker in the first place, it had led to a lot of sticky situations; most of which Jason found himself stuck in, too. When Percy had insisted on chasing after Dr. Thorn and the di Angelos without backup, Jason should have put his foot down. He should have run for Thalia and Annabeth. Instead, he'd chosen to trust Percy's judgment.

Now, only the gods knew where Annabeth was--if that. When Jason questioned Artemis, she'd seemed just as in the dark as he was.

"Take heart," she advised him, coming close to being actually nice. She sat cross-legged, absently stroking the ears of one of her hunting dogs. "Annabeth may be beyond my sight, but my brother, Apollo, is much stronger in prophecy than I. You may ask him, when he arrives, about her plight."

Jason had met Apollo once before--at the grimace on his face, Artemis laughed.

"I share your opinion, child of Grace," she chuckled. "But, unfortunately, brothers are something we cannot be rid of." She glanced at Nico's sister, Bianca, who'd been sitting quietly next to Jason with a confused look, like she wasn't sure why she'd been included in this powwow. Jason definitely wasn't sure why she'd been included in this powwow. "I'm sure you can sympathize."

Bianca gave a small smile. "For as long as I can remember, I've been saddled with my brother," she admitted. She glanced at Jason. "It was nice, earlier, to have someone else worrying about him for a change."

Jason flushed. "I wasn't exactly--"

"It could be like that forever," Artemis said, interrupting him. Jason would have been annoyed, but he figured goddesses had the right to interrupt whoever they wanted, especially puny mortal boys. "You don't have to shoulder this responsibility any longer."

"I--I don't know," Bianca said.

"What is she talking about?" Jason asked her.

She fidgeted.

"I have asked Bianca to join my Hunt," Artemis explained. "For various reasons that I would not expect a boy, and a child at that, to understand."

Doubly insulted, Jason raised his eyebrows.

"You look exactly like Apollo when you do that," she said. "Bianca--do not feel pressed to answer immediately. It is a big decision to make."

"No, I'll do it," Bianca said. She didn't look at Jason, for long enough that he knew it was deliberate. "I want to become a member of the Hunt."

"Wait a minute," Jason said. He might only be a boy and a child, or whatever, but he wasn't a total idiot. "You'll be leaving behind your brother, your life--"

"I don't have a life!" Bianca exclaimed. The outburst seemed to surprise even her. She clapped a hand over her mouth, face reddening, and then lowered it. "I want to do it, Jason," she said, more calmly. "It feels like the right thing to do. I don't need to think about it any longer."

"You should leave," Artemis advised him. "This is no longer your business."

Jason shook his head, hoping his stubbornness wouldn't get him turned into a dog. "I'll stay," he said. If Bianca was going to do something crazy and stupid, the least he could do was stand witness.

He couldn't imagine how Nico would take it. The kid had seemed annoyed with his sister earlier, but that was just normal sibling stuff, right? Even Jason, who didn't have the best relationship with Thalia, would be heartbroken if she ran off to be immortal without him.

He listened to Bianca taking the vow, biting back angry words the entire time. The more he thought about it, the more upset he became. It wasn't fair. Nico didn't deserve to be left alone, regardless of how "saddled" Bianca felt--whatever the hell that meant.

When Artemis and Bianca were done exchanging their pledges and pinky-swearing to be besties forever, Bianca went off to break the news to Nico. Jason wanted to go with her, but Artemis kept him behind for a moment--which was odd, because she'd made it clear she wanted him gone sooner rather than later.

"My twin is the stronger of us, when it comes to divination," she said. "But that does not mean I am without the gift entirely. I can clearly see the troubled times which are approaching."

That was wonderful. Jason really needed to hear that right now.

"I can also see that you are upset with me," she added, giving him a wry smile. Now that she'd stolen Bianca, she was downright smug. "You will come to understand, Jason, the importance of what just occurred. Of the favor I've done you."

He seriously doubted that.

"In the meanwhile," Artemis paused. She fixed her tawny eyes on him, like she was sizing him up for her next meal. He was probably overthinking the whole "goddess of the Hunt" thing, but he shivered anyway. "I have advice that is much less cryptic. Watch out for Nico di Angelo."

It was so simple, it took him a second to realize that was it. That was the whole message. "Oh," he said, surprised. "Well, I would have done that anyway. I like him. I think we're going to be fri--"

"I mean, watch your back around him," she said, interrupting again. She really liked to do that. "His path is tangled. It would be better for you to avoid him entirely."

Oh. There was that.

Stung, he blurted out, "No." He hated being told what to do--he didn't care if he was being rude. "You took Bianca from him, but you aren't going to take me!"

She stared at him for a minute, her expression unreadable. Jason wished he could melt into the snow. He scrunched his toes in his boots and waiting, bracing himself.

"Is that how you see it?" she finally asked, not sounding half as angry as he expected. She sounded more baffled than anything else. "I am merely the messenger, Jason. I have a strong sense about the boy. I was just trying to help you." She paused. Her next sentence sounded a lot more human, which didn't really make her likable. It just made Jason want to smack her even more. "I really wasn't thinking of him at all, when I asked Bianca to join the Hunt."

"Yeah," Jason said, his voice burning hot with resentment. "That's fairly obvious."

He left the tent before he did something he'd regret for the rest of his life--or afterlife, if he thought about it. He didn't wait to be dismissed.

Disturbingly, the last thing he heard before the flap drifted shut behind him was Artemis laughing.

Chapter Text

Camp Half-Blood was the coolest place ever.

Nico got to do everything--archery, swimming, sword fighting, arts and crafts, javelin throwing--and no one told him it was too dangerous or that he was too young. He crashed in the Hermes cabin with the rest of the outsiders. He didn't have to run, unless it was for tag.

Sure, the nights were hard. Since leaving Westover Hall, he'd been plagued with disturbing, awful dreams. Chiron said it was normal for demigods, but the dreams didn't feel natural to Nico. They felt cold. But he was able to forget them soon enough once morning rolled around.

He didn't get to see Bianca much, and that sucked. She was hanging around with the Hunters, now, pretending to be one of them. She told him she'd sworn some kind of oath, but Nico knew it wouldn't last. It couldn't. Bianca had always stressed how important it was that the two of them stay together; she wouldn't actually leave him for some immortal girls' club.

In the meantime, Nico had his new best friend to keep him company.

"So, usually in Capture the Flag the cabins divide up into two teams," Jason Grace said, on Nico's third day at camp. They were standing a couple yards away from the dining pavilion, which the Hunters had claimed after lunch, and Jason was helping Nico put on his armor. "Alliances are formed based on strength or compatibility or whatever." He waved his hand, almost whacking Nico in the face. "Oops. Sorry."

Nico laughed. Sometimes, Jason was really dorky and it was easy to forget he was perfect. But then he'd disarm some Ares kid in a sparring match or fly up to the peak of the Big House just for the heck of it, and Nico would be in awe again.

They'd spent a ton of time together, over the last few days. Nico felt like he was drowning in his own happiness every time he got to be around Jason. His heart sped up every morning, when Jason walked into the dining pavilion, and stopped altogether when the demigod smiled at him. Best of all, Jason never made him feel like he was weird or out-of-place. He made Nico feel like he belonged.

"Percy and I aren't ever on the same team," Jason went on, tightening one of the straps of Nico's chestpiece. Nico had wanted to go full Greek, with the chiton and the piergus and everything, but Jason had talked him down from the idea. It was the middle of winter, after all, and everyone was in long-sleeved shirts and jeans.

"Why not? You guys would be mega-powerful, right?" Nico asked. "Since you're both Big Three kids?"

"Yeah, well, we don't . . . work well together," Jason said. "Maybe it's because we're powerful, or because of who our parents are, but the kids of those three never get along. We've caused a couple world wars, which is why our dads aren't supposed to have kids anymore."

"But you're here," Nico pointed out the obvious flaw in the story.

"Mm-hmm," Jason said, stepping back to make sure Nico's armor was straight. "I was a mistake."

He acted like it was no big deal, throwing the words out with the same tone he used when he was delivering the lunch menu, but his expression flickered, just a second, into sadness. It was pretty obvious it bothered him more than he let on.

Nico felt the sadness like it was his own; it laced through him like a bolt of electricity. He was instantly on edge, lunging to Jason's defense before he could think twice.

"You aren't a mistake!" he exclaimed, indignant. "How could you think that? You're, like, the coolest kid I've ever met. Camp would suck without you, and you're tall and clever and can do anything--" He sounded so adamant, even to his own ears, that he blushed. His whole body went hot, like it had when Jason was showing him how to stand.

He didn't understand the feeling. All he really understood was that it was wrong, it had to be wrong, because it was so intense and uncomfortable and Jason was looking at him strangely now, his ears bright red. Nico had messed up again.

"Thanks," Jason mumbled, looking away.

Nico wanted to melt into the snow and not resurface until spring.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice mouse-small. He didn't know, exactly, what he was apologizing for, but with the words came distant memories; being scolded by his mother, holding hands with the boy next door--but the boy next door where?--Bianca telling him to always, always, always keep his distance from people without properly explaining why.

He wasn't supposed to like Jason this much. He didn't know why, but Bianca wouldn't like it if she found out.

Jason was giving him that weird look again.

Nico was so embarrassed, he thought he might cry.

And then Chiron blew a loud horn, gathering them all to lay out the rules, and Nico didn't get a chance to redeem himself in Jason's eyes. He felt crappy for most of the game, sure that he'd just ruined something good.

He saw Bianca, but only in flashes here and there, and she never stopped to talk--too busy running and fighting and being dumb.

His sister had abandoned him. He'd just alienated his only friend, because he'd gotten too excited, too involved; everything Bianca had always warned him not to do.

See? This was why she couldn't run off with the dumb Hunt--he needed her. He needed someone to keep him from always screwing up.

He stumbled around in the woods, directionless, useless. Everyone else seemed to know what to do, but even though Nico had sat and listened to the same rules as them, he just seemed to be in the way. The other campers knew the plan without even talking to each other, but Nico didn't. He'd never played regular Capture the Flag before, let alone whatever this was. Percy had told him he was on guard duty, but he didn't know what that meant. Where was the flag he was supposed to be guarding?

And where was everyone else?

Nico pivoted, realizing too late that he was lost. He could hear other campers trampling around, but every time he moved closer to where he thought the noises were coming from, they faded, only to start up from another direction.

And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, the strange, cold feeling from his dreams creeped up on him. It started with the hair on the back of his arms standing on end, goosebumps breaking out across his scalp. Something's coming, he thought, instinctively, desperately, and he raised the sword that still felt clunky and unwieldy in his hand.

But the "something" wasn't a monster, or a Hunter, or another camper. It was just that feeling; like he was tumbling down into somewhere dark and icy, his blood crystallizing in his veins.

He detached from the world, gaze tunneling, focusing on the bark of a nearby tree, magnifying that stupid chunk of wood to microscopic clarity while everything else faded to black. He was falling, and fast, even though he could feel his feet on the ground.

Just like in the dreams, the second he reached the bottom of--wherever he'd fallen--the whispers started.

It was strange, because part of him could still see the forest and, from an outside perspective, himself, rooted to the spot in the snow, pointing his sword at a tree. And the rest of him was at the bottom of a pit of ice, reaching out ghostly hands to find nothing but black glass.

His ears were filled with whispering voices; male, female, young, old. They all said the same things: that he didn't belong, that he was alone, that he should leave. That no one understood him, or ever could.

And then, one clear, male voice broke through all of the hisses. It was old--not the voice of an old man, but an old voice in itself. Nico didn't know how to describe it, even to himself. He just had the sense the voice had been speaking for a long time, to many people just like him.

She's going to die, the man said, as clearly as if he was standing at Nico's shoulder. You can't stop it. She'll join us, soon.

Nico knew what "she" they meant. He'd known from the first night he'd had the dream.

He chose not to believe it.

"No," he muttered. "Leave me alone. Leave me alone."

He squeezed his eyes shut. He still felt cold, but the pit and the ice and the tree all vanished. He could at least pretend that everything was okay. His own voice was the realest sound, so he said it again.

"No. It's not true. Leave me alone."

The whispers intensified, picking up the ancient voice's chant. She's going to die. She's going to die.

"No," he insisted. "NO!"

"Nico!"

Someone--someone solid and real--grabbed his shoulders, shaking him, and Nico opened his eyes, looking into Jason's frightened face.

"Oh, thank the gods," Jason breathed, pulling him in for a tight, brief hug. "You scared the crap out of me."

"Wh-what happened?" Nico stammered, ignoring the flutter of warmth Jason's hug stirred up. It was wrong to feel that way, even if he welcomed the sensation after his flirtation with--but no. He didn't know what he'd just felt. And he wasn't going to name it, no matter what.

"I don't know," Jason said, still sounding anxious. "I lost you when the game started, and then I just felt cold all over and I had to find you. And you were . . . what were you doing? I was talking to you and you just ignored me."

"I didn't hear you," Nico said, looking towards the tree he'd been fixated on it. It was just a tree, nothing special about it. He stepped away from Jason, shaking off the other boy's hands. "I'm sorry. I don't know what . . ."

Jason touched him again, putting his hand on Nico's shoulder. Heat and butterflies and a whole host of emotions Nico didn't want to feel exploded from his touch. "It's okay," he said, like he really meant it. "You don't have to be scared. Everything is going to be okay--freaky stuff is normal for demigods. We'll figure it out."

"It didn't feel normal," Nico said quietly. He didn't want to say any more. Jason already thought he was weird. If he heard about what Nico had experienced, he'd probably stop talking to him altogether. It was enough that Jason stood next to him now, concerned enough to leave the game for a while and talk.

Speaking of the game--

"Who's winning?" Nico asked. "And, um. What's going on? Because I'm sort of lost."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Well, usually we have a plan," he said, heavy emphasis on the "usually". He didn't sound impressed with what had actually happened. "But usually Percy and Thalia aren't on the same team, trying to co-lead. There was a bit of a dust-up and--"

He stopped talking as lightning suddenly cracked across the clear sky. Nico jumped.

Jason frowned. "They're arguing," he said.

"Percy and Thalia?" Nico asked.

"Yeah. Let's head back," Jason said. "Forget the game. It's ruined, anyway." He scowled. "Thalia and her freakin' temper."

"I thought Zeus was kinda known for his temper," Nico said, remembering one of the facts from his second-favorite Mythomagic card.

Jason sighed, starting to walk off. He beckoned for Nico to follow him. He didn't seem to be lost at all, walking confidently through the trees.

"That doesn't mean it's a good thing," Jason said. "I mean, I'm his kid, too, and you don't see me flying off the handle every ten seconds. But, I swear, Thalia uses him as an excuse to freak out whenever she wants. And Percy's not doing so well right now, he's got that major crush on Annabeth, and she's vanished, and now it looks like Artemis is gone, too."

"Really?" Nico asked. He hadn't heard that.

"I found out this morning," Jason said, still grumbling. "Yup, Artemis has vanished, and the Hunters want to go rescue her, but Chiron's all, No, let's play Capture the Flag instead, so they're sore at him."

"Can he keep them in camp?" Nico questioned, nearly tripping over a branch. Jason reached back, helping him absently.

"Course he can't," the older demigod said. "But he's got more influence on them than they'd admit, so they're listening to him for now." His fingers were tight around Nico's elbow. "They'll probably leave soon."

"Bianca will go with them," Nico realized.

She would leave, and he would stay.

It sunk in, then. He'd lost his sister.

Jason glanced back at him, frowning. They came out of the woods abruptly, the trees thick one step, and gone the next. They were standing at the edge of the archery field, about as far from where they'd entered the woods as possible while still in the camp boundaries.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jason ventured.

Nico pulled his elbow from Jason's grip. He felt funny, and given what he'd been through the last hour, that was saying something. He sat right where he was, in the snow, not caring that it soaked through his pants and numbed his butt.

She's going to die.

He shook the ominous words from his memory. The voices had been some weird daydream, that was it. Maybe a monster, messing with his head--there had to be some kind of creature that did that.

Bianca wasn't going to die.

Everything would be okay--Jason had said so.

Chapter Text

Nico was frightening Jason.

He sat in the snow, his face pale, for a really long time. And Jason didn't know what to do, so he just stood awkwardly over him, keeping silent guard until Nico finally got to his feet.

"I'm going back to the Hermes cabin," he mumbled, and Jason let him. Part of him didn't want to let Nico out of his sight; the rest of him insisted he give his friend some space. Nico needed Jason to be there for him, especially since Bianca was hell-bent on not, but he didn't need Jason to do everything for him. He had to learn to cope with the weird on his own.

Still thinking about Nico, Jason wandered back to the Big House to see about the outcome of the game. Instead of the victorious party of Hunters he'd expected, he found Percy and Grover hauling the Oracle up the steps of the porch. They carried the embalmed corpse like a crash test dummy that was still smoking; Percy looked like he was about to throw up.

"What are you guys doing?" Jason asked, stopping just shy of the Oracle's swinging feet.

"What does it look like? Bringing her back to the attic," Percy grumbled. Since Annabeth's disappearance, he'd been crabby, but even for him, that was short-tempered. Thalia must have done a number on him in the woods.

"But why did you bring her out in the first place?" Jason clarified.

Percy's scowl deepened, and Grover said, "Yup. I'm gonna smack him."

He freed a hand from the Oracle's swirling skirts and shooed Jason away, with a half-hearted claw, like he was warding off evil, but only a little evil, so he couldn't be bothered to do the sign properly.

Jason gave up on the older boys and headed down to the cabins. Thalia was on the basketball court, deep in conversation with a couple Hunters. The immortal girls scattered when they saw Jason coming. Some of them were way worse than others when it came to the whole "company of males" thing--Sis's nemesis, Zoe Nightshade, had called Jason a "smelly demon" and tried to throw him in the lake a couple days ago. That hadn't endeared her to Thalia in the least.

"What's going on?" he asked his sister.

She sighed. Her skin was flushed, her eyes watery. There was a bruise blossoming on her chin. "Before or after Percy decided to play water polo instead of capture the flag?"

He raised his eyebrows, unsympathetic. "I saw your lightning. I'm guessing you started it."

She grinned, stretching the freckles on her cheeks.

"Anyway, I meant with the Oracle," he said, going to stuff his hands in his jacket pockets and remembering he was still in armor. His hands collided with his chest plate, and he settled for running them through his hair instead, cupping the back of his head.

"Oh, that," Thalia said. She hadn't changed, either; her helmet was strapped to her belt, next to her shield, which she hadn't turned back into a bracelet; a sure sign she still felt threatened. "She decided to take a walk."

"The . . . mummy?" he asked.

She nodded. "Guess it was vitally important she give us a quest, like, now."

"What did she say?"

"Umm . . ." Thalia's memory wasn't the best when it came to details. She was a big-picture girl. "Five will go east . . . west. Five will go west. And do some stuff." She snapped her fingers. "Oh! And one will die by a parent's hand, so," she gave him a hard look, "you aren't going. Dad doesn't have the best record when it comes to keeping his kids alive."

"Because I totally had a chance of being chosen to go," he said sarcastically.

"Anyway, Chiron's going to choose who is going as soon as Percy and Grover get the Oracle back to the attic. I was just letting the Hunters know--apparently some of the five will be coming from their ranks." She rolled her eyes. "Road trip with the Hunters. Fabulous. I just can't wait."

Jason noticed his sister took for granted that she was going, of course.

"And . . . yeah, that's about what's going on," she concluded. "You should get back to the cabin, get some rest. You look awful."

"Look who's talking," he muttered. He didn't know how Thalia could manage to be so bossy--wait, yes he could. She thought she was Zeus's gift to the world, and spending a good five years as a tree thanks to their dad hadn't swayed that belief in the least.

Out of everyone at camp, Thalia treated him most like a little kid; probably because she still saw him as the toddler she ran away from home with. The one too stupid to not bite down on a stapler. The one who'd do whatever she said without question.

Jason wasn't that kid anymore, but if Thalia didn't get that after seeing him in action the last couple of months, she never would.

She chucked his chin. "Rest," she ordered. "I'll come get you for dinner."

"Don't bother," he mumbled, brushing past her. "I'm not that hungry."

The Zeus cabin, for all that he'd tried to make it home in the last years, was one of the coldest, unfriendliest places he'd ever seen. He was more or less used to the austere atmosphere, but the simple fact was, it hadn't be built to entertain campers. It was like sleeping in a temple, minus the friendly priests and praying mortals. And free food.

Each of the bunks was equipped with its own privacy curtain, which Jason didn't usually use. He didn't have anything to hide from Thalia, and slept easier when he could see his sister's face across the room. But that day, after he stripped off his armor and changed into pajamas, he pulled the curtain shut around his bed. The lights went out automatically.

Jason stared at the bottom of the bunk above his. When he first came to camp, he'd wished more than anything to have lots of half-siblings. Luke did. Annabeth did. Grover had the other satyrs. Only Jason was alone, sleeping in his cavernous cabin and missing his sister more than a six-year-old could properly express.

When Annabeth had resurrected Thalia last year, Jason had nearly broken with relief. And then things had started, subtly, to change. The kids who used to look to Jason for leadership, even though he was younger than them, starting looking to Thalia. She was older, and she bossed him around, and she was a legend. She stole his thunder, pretty much literally. She knew how to do all sorts of things he'd never learned, and she wasn't about to share.

And then Percy, who'd reliably been an idiot since the day he arrived, changed as well. With Thalia there to challenge him, he started to step up. So that meant there were two demigods always telling Jason what to do, when he was used to having none.

It shouldn't have mattered, especially now that Annabeth was gone, but it did. He'd gone for years without needing Thalia to babysit him, and now that she was here, it was like he wasn't needed any longer. It didn't help that it was looking more and more like she was the child of the Great Prophecy.

Jason fell asleep, still low-key seething.

He jolted awake hours later, struck with terror. Something had frightened him awake, but he didn't remember what it was. Whatever he'd been dreaming about, he'd forgotten. He could tell by his pounding heart that it had been a doozy of a nightmare.

Thalia was in the cabin now, packing. "You were mumbling in your sleep," she said, without looking at him. "You never told me you were in the car when Mom died."

Jason sat up. He'd been dreaming about Mom? That explained a lot. He swallowed, wishing he'd thought to bring a bottle of water back with him from the game. He also hadn't showered, and it was obvious.

"Yeah, well, a couple years after you . . . you know," he said, "After you died. I thought it'd be okay. That she'd have straightened out her life." He scratched his nose. "She was so happy to see me . . . at first."

"And then?" Thalia still wasn't looking at him, shoving things savagely into her backpack.

"It's Mom. You guess the rest," he said. "She didn't want a kid hanging around. I was planning on going back to camp, anyway, but . . ." he hesitated, his secret fear pushing the edges of his thoughts. "I guess I should have told her sooner."

And then maybe she wouldn't have driven their car off the road in an attempt to get rid of him.

As if reading his mind, Thalia whirled around, her eyes--the mirror image of his--flashing. "It wasn't your fault," she said fiercely. "And Mom wasn't trying to get rid of you. She was a crappy parent, but she wasn't straight-up evil. She might have been drinking that night, but it wasn't because of you."

Jason shrugged.

"Are you still mad at me?" she asked, and he flinched.

"How did you . . . ?"

"I'm your sister, Jay. I know you," she said, and let a tiny smile creep over her face. "I'm sorry. I know I've been annoying you since I got back."

He jumped up and hugged her, his irritation vanishing like smoke in the sky. "I'm going to miss you," he declared. "Even though you have been super annoying."

She hugged him back. "Wish me luck. Stupid Zoe Nightshade is coming, too."

"Ugh. You know what? I don't envy you at all."

Thalia ruffled his hair and then turned, zipping her bag. "Alright. Be good while I'm gone. Percy mentioned he's going to spend the holidays with his mom, so you can go to New York with him if Sally doesn't mind. Which she won't, but be sure to ask first."

"How long are you going to be gone?" Jason asked, and then, "Wait--Percy isn't going?"

"No boys allowed," she sighed. "The cost of traveling with Hunters. I guess Grover doesn't count, since he's coming. And I don't know how long. However long it takes to find Artemis, and the beast, and Annabeth, I guess."

"That's a quest for a lot of things."

"It's all a quest for the same thing, in the end." She slung her bag over her shoulder and hugged him again. "I'll Iris Message you when I can."

"Okay. Safe travels," he mumbled.

Thalia stopped by the door, glancing back like she didn't really want to go. She looked around the cabin, and at him, as if she was taking it all in for one last time. As if she thought she wasn't coming back.

She'd said one of them would die by a parent's hand. If anyone was a prime candidate for that, it was her, and they both knew it. Jason almost stopped her, but then she squared her shoulders and headed out the door. The gray, pre-dawn light flooded into the cabin, and he moved to the stairs to watch her hike up the hill to the Big House. A van was idling, waiting to take the questers wherever it was they were going.

He was so left out. He didn't even know about the beast Thalia had mentioned. Some part of the prophecy he'd never gotten to hear.

He surveyed the mismatched cabins, his heart heavy. The camp was quieter in winter, but even in summer, kids were rarely up this early. Jason thought about that while he stood on the freezing marble step, his socks barely protecting his feet from the cold. He'd seen Camp Half-Blood in all seasons, lived in this marble mausoleum for nine years, and still--

Still, he didn't belong here. Especially now that Thalia was back, taking his place like a cuckoo's child.

He didn't belong.

He let the certainty settle over his shoulders like the heavy burden it was. He supposed he'd known all along, but he'd never faced the fact before. It was the truth, though. He didn't belong at Camp Half-Blood.

Really, it could only be fate that he saw Nico di Angelo slip out of the Hermes cabin at that moment. From the way Nico was creeping, he was up to no good.

Jason seized his boots, jamming them on his feet, and skulked after the kid.

He didn't know it at the time, but he wasn't going to be back.

Chapter Text

Nico had been awake to see Thalia Grace hike up the hill to the Big House, and he knew what he had to do. If Bianca was going on a quest--possibly to get herself killed--then Nico was going, too. He didn't care what any stupid prophecy said otherwise. He definitely didn't care what the stupid Hunters said. It was their fault his sister was in danger in the first place.

He crept up the hill, rounding the dining pavilion to approach the Big House from behind, and stopped at the familiar sound of his sister's voice.

"Is she okay?" Bianca was asking. Nico quickly ducked behind a pillar, peeking cautiously around it to see his sister talking with another Hunter--Zoe?--at one of the tables. Both of them were dressed like models from a winter sports gear catalog. Nico didn't like how mature his sister looked; she hardly looked like Bianca at all.

"She will be fine," Zoe said. Nico wrinkled his nose at her snotty tone, but Bianca seemed to take it in stride.

"What a rotten prank to play," she complained. "What were those Hermes boys thinking?"

"They're boys," Zoe said contemptuously. "They can't do any better than that."

Bianca giggled.

Nico scowled.

"Anyway, what are we going to do now?" Bianca said. "She can't go on the quest like this."

"True." Zoe tapped her bottom lip. "And yet . . . I hesitate to pick another member, at this hour. Nothing good could come of it."

"The prophecy said five," Bianca said. "Without Phoebe, we only have four. I thought going against a prophecy was supposed to be bad luck?"

Nico's ears pricked up. There was an open spot on the quest. Sure, he had slim-to-no chance of being the replacement, but. It was still an opportunity, especially since this Zoe chick didn't sound like she wanted to choose another quester.

"It is," Zoe admitted. "But I feel, in light of last night's dream, the fate of our fifth quester will be cursed regardless."

"No-win situation," Bianca muttered. "Are you going to tell Thalia? About your dream?"

"No," Zoe said. "She does not need to know."

"Um. I think she kind of does. It's her brother--"

"Enough," Zoe cut her off, which was disappointing. Nico's ears had pricked up the second she mentioned Jason. Zoe had dreamed about him? What did that mean? "We are leaving at first light. That is now. We have no time to share dreams, or choose another to join us on the quest, or to do any of the other 'last-minute' changes you have suggested."

She sounded like she was scolding Bianca, but his sister didn't look chastised in the least. He guessed they had that in common.

"I'm worried," she said.

"That makes two of us," Zoe said, and took her arm. "Come. It is time."

Nico moved to follow them. He didn't know how he'd manage it without being seen, but he'd find a way. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

He nearly screamed, but Jason covered his mouth before he could.

"Shh," Jason said fervently. "I don't want to be caught, either."

Nico relaxed, and Jason let him go. He was wearing snow boots and flannel pj pants, like he'd just torn out of the cabin at the last second. He must have seen Nico sneak out and followed him--Nico hadn't even noticed. Some spy he was.

His heart wouldn't stop pounding erratically, and not just from the fright. Seeing Jason made him happy, even if there were so many other things on his mind. He felt like he'd drank a whole gallon of soda and it was bubbling in his stomach, fizzy and orange-flavored.

"I know what you're thinking," Jason hissed. "But you can't go."

"How did you--" Nico started.

"My sister is on that quest, too," Jason said. "So I get it. But you aren't trained. You just got here."

"I can--" Nico faltered.

"You can't," Jason said, and seemed to realize how harsh he was being. "I mean, not yet. You'll learn. But not in the five minutes we have before that van leaves."

That only left one option.

"Then you have to do it," Nico said. "You have to go."

"I know," Jason said. He rubbed his nose, which was red from the cold. "But I'm with Zoe, Nico. I have a bad feeling about this quest."

"Me, too," Nico said. "That's why you have to go! You have to keep Bianca safe."

Jason looked surprised. "She has the Hunters."

Nico grabbed his arm, forgetting that it broke one of his unspoken rules. He wasn't supposed to touch Jason, just like he wasn't supposed to give away how much he liked the guy. If he followed those rules, he'd be okay. He figured right now was an okay exception. "It's not the same. You're strong," he insisted. "And I know she's going to need that. Don't ask how I do, I just . . . do."

"Okay," Jason said. "Okay, fine."

"Promise," Nico said. If it was Jason, he knew Bianca would be okay. Jason was right--Nico was useless--but he wasn't. He'd been training for six years. If there was a demigod in camp that could stop Nico's fears from becoming reality, it was Jason. "You have to promise me."

"I can't," Jason said, and blushed. "I don't know why you think so highly of me, Nico, but I'm not--I can't--I can't guarantee anything."

"I . . . just have faith in you," Nico mumbled, looking at his shoes. He let his hands drop from Jason's arm. "You can do anything."

"I can't," Jason insisted, and then relented. "I'll try. That's all I can say. I'll do my best."

The roar of an engine cut through the early morning air. The van was leaving.

"Go," Nico said, panicked. "You're going to miss it!"

Jason gave him a crooked grin. He was getting taller: no, he was rising into the air. Flying. "I've got my own ride," he said, and took off after the van, climbing high into the sky so they wouldn't see him.

Nico craned his neck, watching the dark speck that was Jason follow the van out of the camp.

"Good luck," he whispered, hugging his elbows. He missed Jason already.

"Wow," someone said, and Nico jumped for the second time in five minutes. He whirled around, looking for the source of the sound, in time to see Percy Jackson appear out of thin air. There was a Yankees cap in his hand.

He looked at Nico like he was judging him hard.

"Here I was, all set to go," he said. "But you two just blew that one out of the water."

Nico stared at the son of Poseidon. "What are you doing here?"

"Eavesdropping on the eavesdroppers," Percy said, the no duh heavily implied. "You do realize that part of the prophecy said two of its members would die, right? What are you going to do if one of them is Jason?"

Nico felt his own jaw drop, though he didn't register the motion until the cold air hit his tongue. He closed his mouth, wondering if it was normal to be doubting his ability to breathe.

"You like him," Percy accused. "How could you just send him off like that?"

Like him? What was Percy talking about?

Nico's cheeks burned. Not like that. Percy couldn't mean that, right? Because that wasn't normal, and no one would think he was like that unless he'd done something stupid to give it away and he was following his rules and anyway that wasn't a--there was no way Percy could know. It wasn't possible.

"It's none of your business," he hissed, suddenly angry. "Leave me alone!"

"People I care about are on that quest, too," Percy fired back, scowling. "Annabeth is trapped under the literal weight of the world. Artemis has been captured. And you just, what? All you care about is your sister and your stupid crush."

Nico shoved him. "You're a jerk!"

"And you're a little snot!" Percy exclaimed. "I was supposed to take Phoebe's place!"

"Were you the one who pranked her?" Nico clapped a hand over his mouth, shocked at the venom in his own voice. He hadn't know he was capable of it.

Percy's face turned red. "Of course I didn't! Why would you say that?"

Because he was angry, mostly. Because Percy, like everyone else, didn't understand anything. Because the two people Nico cared about most were on a very dangerous journey and he might not see one or both of them ever again and he hadn't said a proper goodbye to either.

"This is bullshit," Percy snarled, and turned on his heel.

"Where are you going?" Nico scuttled after him. He didn't like the expression on Percy's face.

"To rescue Annabeth," Percy snapped. "I'm going whether the damn prophecy says I can or not. I don't need an Oracle to tell me where she is." His eyebrows pulled down sharply. "And when I get my hands on Luke . . ."

Nico tripped over his own feet, trying to keep up with the older boy. Percy just picked up the pace, sticking two fingers in his mouth and letting out an impressive taxicab whistle.

A winged horse swooped down, and Percy leapt on its back without waiting for it to land. The wind from the horse's wings lashed Nico's face--and then Percy, like Jason, was gone.

Nico stared up at the sky, his heart in his throat. He didn't need any creepy whispers to tell him this wasn't going to end well.

And that, maybe, it was going to be his fault.

Chapter Text

One of Jason's less well-thought-out decisions was going on a quest in his pjs.

Zoe kept stealing glances at his hamburger t-shirt, and probably only offered him the Nemean Lion coat out of pity. Thalia rolled her eyes. Bianca was nice; she didn't say anything too rude, but she did offer to buy him pants the next time they stopped.

They rumbled along on the car carrier, Jason still going over the events of the last day. He'd run off to join his sister and the others in rescuing Artemis. He'd been shot out of the sky by an entity that called himself the General and was basically the incarnation of every movie bad guy ever. Running from the General, he'd ended up fighting reanimated museum exhibits in Washington, D.C. with Thalia and the others, and learning that Bianca was epically bad at history. She thought the last President was F.D.R.

He'd also been yelled at by his sister in front of everybody, which was humiliating. But Thalia had grudgingly agreed it would be more dangerous to send him back to camp, so they resumed heading west, this time with Jason on board. Not too bad, for a day's work.

Thalia and Zoe were fighting again, so everyone had gone off to their own cars. Thalia was listening to music really loudly. Bianca was staring out the window of the Prius she and Zoe had commandeered, her face wistful. Jason wondered if she was thinking of Nico. It'd be nice if someone other than him was.

Jason went to chill with Grover, since he didn't want to see his sister and knew he wasn't welcome with the Hunters. He didn't want to be alone. He was afraid he'd start feeling that disjointed sensation he'd had back in camp, the one that convinced him he didn't belong there.

"I'm glad you're here," Grover said. "I have a question."

Jason closed the door to the car, sitting backwards on the driver's seat. Grover was sprawled in the back, his pan pipes on his chest. He looked lovesick, but Jason figured that was just because the Hunters had shut him out of the Prius.

"Go ahead," Jason said.
"Did Percy try to come with you?"
Percy?

"I didn't see him," Jason said. "Why?"

"Because he had this face like he was going to," the satyr muttered. "And then, back there, the General said the beast would only appear for Percy Jackson. Made me think he was supposed to be on this quest."

Jason felt a stab of guilt. He hadn't thought of including Percy for a second--but there hadn't been time. That's what he told himself, anyway.

"Sorry, I don't know," he said.

He tried to imagine Percy on the quest, bickering with Thalia and ticking off Zoe. Maybe breaking something important at the Smithsonian. Inevitably messing up, because that's what Percy did. He messed up. He'd ticked off Ares, Hades, and Zeus on his first quest, and gotten royally lost in a Cyclops' lair on his second. Both times, Jason had to step in to save the day--add that to the list of things his friends had forgotten when Thalia came back.

"I just have this feeling," Grover muttered. "Like he's close by. He must be thinking about us a lot."

Grover and Percy shared an empathy link. Jason didn't fully understand it, but he knew it meant the two of them sometimes knew things about each other that friends--even absolute best friends--usually wouldn't know.

And then something thump-thumped on the roof of the car, and Jason had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Grover sat bolt upright, his hay-colored eyes losing their faraway look. "No way," he said. Even he sounded skeptical about the turn of events, but as Jason opened the car door, Percy Jackson hopped down from his pegasus and onto the train bed.

"You've got to be freakin' kidding me," Jason said.

"Go home," Percy ordered.
"No," Jason said. "I'm part of the quest."
"I'm part of the quest," Percy snapped. "I have to be. I have to save Annabeth."
"I want to save her, too," Jason snapped right back. "Trust me--I'll bring her home."
"That's the thing," Percy said. "I really don't."

Jason narrowed his eyes at the older boy. He could feel the lightning in his bones, crackling, dying to get out and give Percy a dose of what he deserved. They'd known each other for three years--how could Percy not trust him? Jason had had his back countless times. Heck, if it weren't for Jason, Percy would be dead and Grover would be some Cyclops' bride and Annabeth--

Well, Annabeth would probably be hale and hearty and happily going on this quest with the Hunters, so that was on him, big time.

"You're eleven," Percy went on. "You're just a kid, same as Nico. You don't belong here."

You don't belong here.

It was the same thing Jason had thought to himself, standing outside the Zeus cabin, watching his sister leave. It was the same thing Nico had been muttering when Jason found him in the woods.

It wasn't fair. Going on the quest was supposed to help him find his place, not make him feel more alienated. But even here, it was all about Thalia and Percy and even Bianca and not, for even a second, about Jason. Even if he'd killed a big, scary, ancient lion that no one else had been able to fight.

Jason glowered at Percy, then pushed off from the train bed.

"Jason!" Grover shouted, but Jason shot away, biting his lip hard enough that he drew blood. His eyes were clouding over with tears, and he tried to blink them away because literally flying blind was a surefire way to crash.

He didn't belong? Fine. He'd lived as a runaway before. He could do it again. He was never going back to camp, never going back to Percy and Thalia and Annabeth and Nico--

Nico.

Jason slowed. He couldn't leave Nico behind. The others, maybe, but Nico . . . Nico hadn't asked to be abandoned by his sister. It wasn't fair for Jason to leave him, too, especially when Jason had promised he'd look after Bianca. His own hurt feelings weren't worth letting his friend--his best friend--down.

He was still angry with Percy. If he went back now, he knew he'd go off at the older boy again, so he forced himself to think of things that weren't Percy Jackson. He forced himself to make plans in his mind; places he wanted to see when he was older, things he wanted to do after this quest. He imagined summers at camp, this time with Nico at his side.

It didn't matter what the others thought, or that Jason wasn't a "real hero" in their eyes. It didn't matter that Percy thought he didn't belong. Nico had faith in him. Jason couldn't let him down.

He squared his shoulders, looking at the distance he'd traveled in his anger. He'd really have to watch that, in the future. He took a deep breath, already rehearsing his argument to stay on the quest.

But before he could race back the way he came, something hit him in the head--something warm, and intense, like a bolt of pure light--and he lost consciousness.

And then he was . . . gone.

Chapter Text

Nico had serious misgivings about leading Percy down to the River Styx. Firstly, there was the chance the demigod would die. Given their complicated history, which began with Percy letting both Nico's sister and his best (only) friend die on a quest, and just got worse from there, Percy's death wouldn't inconvenience Nico much, especially since he suspected the jerk would come back and haunt him for the rest of his life and afterlife. But Percy was kinda important in the scheme of this whole Great Prophecy thing, and since Nico didn't want to be the one dreading the days until his sixteenth birthday, he'd prefer Percy alive.

Then there was the possibility that it wouldn't work, which was slightly different than Percy dying in that he emerged from the other side, invulnerable but also crazy. Like Luke. Nico didn't want to be remembered as the demigod who'd driven their last hope insane in the final hours of the battle. He'd already given up on his reputation, but that was a fairly bad rap, even for him.

And the best outcome, that it worked and Percy achieved invulnerability, still wasn't one Nico liked. Because he occasionally still fantasized about driving his Stygian sword through Percy's arm or leg on his bad days; nonlethal wounds, of course, but still wounds he wouldn't be able to administer if Percy's skin was impenetrable. Plus, Percy was probably going to get cocky and get eaten by something that, after a couple thousand years, would eventually digest even him.

Before Percy plunged into the river, Nico socked him in the arm.

"Ow," Percy snapped, clutching the offended limb.

"You're lucky I didn't stab you," Nico muttered.

"Back at you," Percy shot back. "I haven't forgotten you betrayed me, you know."

"Neither have I. It felt good." Nico drew his Stygian sword. "I'm still contemplating the stabbing, so I'd get a move on if I were you."

Percy made a rude gesture and dove into the water.

Nico gave him that much; it was brave. Knowing what the river held, Nico would never enter it. Of course, he'd had some bad experiences with Underworld rivers, so maybe he was biased.

Selling Percy out to his father had done nothing to ease his anger about the last few years, meaning that he'd been forced to face facts--he was blaming Percy, still, for things that weren't his fault. Nico doubted they'd ever get along, but he hoped this plan; this stupid, half-baked idea that would be better left in the darkest recesses of his brain; would work, and start to repair the bridges burned between them. Even if most of Nico's bridge-posts were still sore.

He knelt down while he was waiting, digging his fingers into the soft, Underworld dirt. The soil by the riverbank was gray, and saturated with souls so ancient, they could no longer find physical form. Nico ignored them as easily as he would have ignored ants.

He sent his power out, recklessly, searching for the one thing he'd never been able to find down here. He'd pretended to himself, at least for a while, that he wasn't looking for Jason's spirit. He didn't know what Percy and the others at camp would think, if they knew how compulsively, obsessively, he'd looked for Jason in the last three years. But Percy was under the Styx and no one else was here. No one else knew.

Nico should have given up long ago, but he couldn't. He owed Jason an apology, for asking him to go on that quest in the first place. And he wanted to see Jason's face, one last time. He'd trade his soul for it, which was appropriate because that was exactly what he was risking.

His attachment to the dead wasn't healthy. Bianca had told him as much, when she'd finally appeared to him. He had to let go of Jason. He had to let go of her.

It had been easier to say goodbye to his sister than his best friend, and that wasn't right. Nico added it to the laundry list of things he felt guilty about, right under the feelings that made Jason so important in the first place. He wanted to forget about the demigod. It was his stupid, warped heart that wouldn't get with the times.

As always, he sensed nothing of Jason under the earth. Frustrated, he drew his power back to himself, opening his eyes again.

It wasn't fair. He didn't get Bianca, he didn't get Jason, and now the closest thing he had to a friend was probably lost to the River Styx. Okay, the last one was totally his fault, but still.

"Come on, Perce," he muttered. "I hate you and all, but I don't want you dead." He stretched his hand out, holding it as close to the water as he dared. He could feel the pull of the souls trapped inside. He didn't want Percy to become one of them. "C'mon," he repeated. "Prove me wrong, Jackson. Be stupidly heroic."

He wondered if he'd ever be able to completely forgive Percy. If the guy hadn't run off, half-assed, to join a quest he wasn't supposed to be a part of, Jason might still be alive. Or Bianca. At the very least, Nico would have one of them.

"I lied," he muttered to the river, searching its dark surface for a trace of the lost demigod. "I don't hate you. I just hate that you saw me. That you were more honest with me than I was with myself."

Percy, who was an idiot when it came to his own relationships, spotted Nico's attraction to Jason from miles off. And when he'd confronted Nico about it, Nico had run away. He couldn't take the thought that someone at camp knew about him; knew how messed up he was. Being the son of Hades hadn't been the only thing Nico wanted to hide.

And that wasn't Percy's fault, so it was about time Nico stopped holding it against him.

Percy rocketed out of the water, gasping loudly, hacking river all over the place. His hands slapped the shore, dragging him up, but then trembled, giving way. Percy almost slid back into the river.

Nico seized the other boy's arms before that could happen and hauled him out. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Annabeth," Percy choked out, and vomited.

Ugh.

Nico slapped Percy. The demigod didn't even flinch. "Cool. It worked," Nico said, and dragged Percy to his feet. "C'mon. You have a battle to get to."

"I owe you," Percy said, slumping on Nico's shoulder. He seemed weak; Nico dug in his pockets, pulling out his store of ambrosia. He kept it for shadow traveling, but there would be a medical team in New York--Will Solace with a first-aid kit, anyway--and Percy needed it now.

"You can add it to the tab," Nico said briskly, handing over the square and starting to lead Percy away from the river. Getting out of the Underworld would help Percy, too; the place was designed to sap his strength, just like the sky was toxic to Nico and the sea made Thalia nauseous. "I'll own your whole life, soon."

"Knew there was a reason you were being helpful," Percy mumbled, leaning heavily on Nico. "It was suspicious. Highly suspicious."

"Yeah, yeah," Nico muttered. "I can't always be evil. Gotta keep you guessing. Hey, don't you dare pass out. Eat the ambrosia."

"Yessir," Percy slurred, and brought the square to his mouth. Well. He tried to. He missed, scoring a line of golden ambrosia across his cheek, and Nico slowed long enough to help him shove the medicine between his lips. Idiot.

Nico took back any of the halfway nice thoughts he'd had about Percy while the guy was under the Styx. Percy Jackson sucked and nothing was ever going to change Nico's mind about that.

Krios appeared to Jason as he must have centuries ago; a strong, tall, broad-chested man in gleaming black armor, wearing a rams' head helmet and carrying a sword as long as Jason was tall. The sword, also black, seemed to be holding an entire galaxy along its length; stars swirled over it, deeper than its flat surface suggested. If that thing came in contact with him, Jason thought, he'd be sucked into a black hole and never return.

He was probably going to die here anyway. He'd sent Reyna off to combat Pallas--figured that'd make her happy, she'd been dying to fight a war god since she'd learned her mother was one--and Kahale to take out Astraios, who'd appeared at Camp Jupiter and plunged all of New Rome into darkness. He'd divided the remaining Legionnaires between them, which meant he was alone in facing the Sky Titan.

He'd thought he'd be a lot more afraid than this, but he'd overestimated his fear of dying. He was perfectly willing to die here if he had to. The afterlife didn't scare him, and neither did this big guy with a sword. In fact, Krios's appearance was almost anticlimactic after the scores of more bizarre creatures Jason had faced on his way here. Krios was the only enemy he'd encountered who actually looked like Jason imagined; and that, sort of, made him tamer.

Then the Titan spoke.

"I was born first, you know." He lowered his sword, cocking his head like he was thinking very hard about his life. His booming voice reminded Jason of a radio announcer. "My brothers usually get all the attention, but . . . well, for my money, I wouldn't want to fight me."

Jason held his own weapon high. He'd lost his shield somewhere in the charge to get here. "I'm honored," he said.

"Humor won't save your life, mortal brat."

"No, I'm serious," Jason told him. "I'm honored. I'm glad I sent the others away. Let them have the small fry." He shrugged. "I can brag to the other Lares that I was killed by the oldest Titan in the universe. That's gotta get me some street cred."

He wasn't kidding. When he'd first shown up at Camp Jupiter, an amnesiac kid with no letters and no training, he hadn't exactly been welcomed with open arms. If Reyna, whose word already carried more weight in camp than the Praetors', hadn't spoken for him, he'd probably be wandering with the homeless of Los Angeles right now.

"Are you . . . right in the head?" Krios asked, his smooth voice faltering for a moment. "Do you want to die?"

Jason shrugged again. "It's been a tough couple of years. Let's just say I walked into this knowing the risks."

Krios stared at him for a moment. On closer inspection, his armor was pebbled with the same stars reflected in his sword.

"I see," he said, quietly. "You don't know who you are. That can be difficult."

His sympathy was uncannily sincere. Jason didn't know what to make of that. Krios didn't seem to know what to make of him.

"You feel detached from the world, as if something is missing," the Titan continued. "No need to look at me so incredulously--I'm no stranger to dysphoria. When the gods usurped us, we Titans lost our place in the world. And I . . . I even lost my place among my brothers. The forgotten Titan, known only to history professors and gaming nerds."

Krios's sword was nearly touching the ground now, slack in his hand. His eyes, the only part of his face Jason could see through the helmet, stared off into the distance. Now would be the time to attack; but Jason couldn't. He wanted to hear more of what the being had to say. It resonated with him in ways he couldn't begin to understand; it was as if, for the last three years, everyone else had been speaking English, and now finally someone was speaking Latin.

Latin felt right to Jason.

"When no one is telling your stories, you start to wonder if you even exist," Krios mused, and then focused on Jason again. "You, too have been usurped. Your rightful place has been taken. You are not meant to be here."

He overwhelmed the word with contempt.

"You are chosen. No--I mean it," he assured the skeptical demigod. "Your path was set in the skies long ago, Jason Grace. The gods saw fit to divert it, to take away what you should have had. You were supposed to be a ruler; the next emperor. And now you are as forgotten as me, shunted aside so Percy Jackson can have the spotlight."

Jason frowned. Who the hell was Percy Jackson? Krios was looking at him like he should know, and the name did sound familiar, but--rather like the rest of Jason's mercurial memories--the information slipped from his grasp when he reached for it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, hating the whine in his voice, the curiosity behind it. That he was listening to Krios at all. This was supposed to be the part where the Titan ranted about his plot to overcome the world, and Jason went, yeah, shut up dude, and handed him his immortal ass. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"That's the perfect part, isn't it?" Krios mused. "You're the victim, but you don't even remember the crime."

"Is Percy Jackson from my past?" Jason demanded to know. He slid his feet farther apart, bracing himself in case the deity decided to attack him for impudence. "Did he take my memories away?"

"No, no," Krios tutted. "The gods did that."

"The . . . gods?" He stared up at the Titan, stunned. "But . . . why?"

"Because they hate you," the other hissed. "They want you to fail. They sent you here to die at my feet, while they flee to the East. Even now, they prefer Jackson over you. They fight at his side, not yours."

Jason dimly recognized the Titan's slide from Rational Being to Full Emperor Palpatine, but he kept talking anyway.

"Tell me what happened," he ordered. "How do you even know all this?"

Krios sounded like he was smiling when he replied. "You're a child of the sky. Of course I know everything about you."

In Jason's experience, that meant Krios had done his homework before the battle and was just pushing his buttons. He was trying to manipulate him, and that meant this conversation was officially going nowhere.

"We have a lot in common," Krios went on, persuasively. "Trapped between the heaven and earth, forgotten, cut off from our birthrights--useless without a war to fight."

"I might be like you," Jason snapped, "but I'm not going to join you. Don't insult me."
"So we are to fight," the Titan said. He sounded resigned, nearly regretful. "Very well. I will look for you in the pits of Tartarus."
"The only one going to Tartarus is you!" Jason exclaimed, and lunged at the deity.
He was definitely going to brag about his heroic, movie-worthy declaration to Reyna later.

Chapter Text

Nico knocked on Percy's screen door before nine in the morning, which was his mistake. When the older demigod shuffled out onto the landing in Adventure Time pj pants, with his hair doing some kind of DQ cone-with-a-swirl-on-top nonsense, Nico really shouldn't have judged him. It was a Saturday, after all.

But.

"You look like a mental patient," he remarked, sitting on the railing opposite the door. "Actually, I take that back. That's rude to the mentally ill."

"The stereotype that mentally ill people have poor hygiene or appearance is harmful to their psyche," Percy mumbled, rubbing his sleep-crusted eyes. It was hands-down the most intelligent thing Nico had ever heard come from Percy's mouth, and he was only half-awake.

"Ugh." Percy shook his head. "I think I fell asleep on Mom's Psychology textbook."

"Why were you reading a Psychology textbook?"

"I was trying to understand you better," Percy said bluntly. "But I got distracted by a paragraph on psychoses and got locked on. Must've crashed after that." He arched his back. "Feels like I wasn't asleep long."

Percy sometimes had episodes where he checked out of reality, getting unnaturally focused on one thing to the point where he didn't see or hear anything else. He described it as mental time-traveling, since, for him, only a second or two seemed to pass. Nico thought Percy had no leg to stand on when it came to crazy; he pretty much owned the store.

"Well," Nico said, kicking his heels against the railing, "as fascinating as that is. I have a favor to ask."

"The answer is no." Percy folded his arms, stifling a yawn. "I don't do favors for people who wake me up on a Saturday. I don't have many of these left, you know. Once school starts, Annabeth is taking over my weekends. She has this insane idea that I should do well in class and when she pitched it to Mom . . ." he sniffed. "My life is over."

"Poor you," Nico droned. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the inside of a classroom. 1936, probably. "I need you to watch Mrs. O'Leary for me."

Percy's eyebrows shot up. "We're in Manhattan. Where am I going to keep a hellhound?"

"At camp, obviously," Nico said, knowing he sounded condescending and not really caring. "School doesn't start for another week. I'll be back by then."

"I don't know. I kind of gave my mom the impression that I'd hang around . . . after the whole Great Prophecy thing, she's a little . . ." Percy trailed off in the face of Nico's don't-give-a-damn expression. "What if Tyson does it?" he suggested.

Percy's brother. Not Nico's first choice; he wrinkled his nose.

"C'mon, he loves her," Percy urged.

"He spoils her."

"You've dragged her across the country and back," Percy pointed out. "She deserves to be a little spoiled."

Nico could argue with Percy, but he got the feeling it would be useless. "Fine," he relented. "But only because I like your mom."

"Everyone likes my mom," Percy said, like that was a huge accomplishment on his part, then, "Wanna come in? Watch cartoons? I have a box of Lucky Charms under my bed."

Nico didn't know where to begin with that one, so he just hopped off the balcony, hiking up his pants. He'd lost weight, again; he needed a different belt. "No. I have to leave. That's the whole poin--you know what? Never mind."

"Where are you going?" Percy asked. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Nico snapped, and had to force himself to cut back on the hostility. He was trying this new thing where he didn't take all of his problems out on Percy. It was going to be an adjustment.

"I have something I have to do," he went on, aware he was reaching new levels of cryptic, "and I can't take the dog. Too risky."

Percy's eyebrows shot up again. "Then I'll come with you," he announced. "Just let me get some pants. And my sword."

"You just finished telling me Sally doesn't want you going anywhere," Nico pointed out. "Chill. I won't be gone long." If it goes well. "And when I come back . . . well, never mind."

"What do you mean, never mind?"

"Never mind means never mind," Nico snapped. "I just decided not to tell you and that's okay." He fixed Percy with a look.

They'd reached an uneasy truce after the battle, although anyone who asked Percy would hear him insist they hadn't been fighting in the first place. The truce had begun with Nico insisting Percy respect his boundaries, something the demigod was clinically terrible at doing.

Percy faltered. Nico could almost see the war going on in his head--weighing his new friendship with Nico against his compulsive need to involve himself in all of his friends' problems. Finally, he threw up his hands in surrender.

"Alright," he said. "But Iris-message me if you need anything. I really mean it. Anything. Help, someone to listen, a hoagie from that place on Seventy-Eighth that you love."

"Thanks." Nico's fingers found his ring, twisting it like a ritual. It was, in a sense. Whenever he felt uneasy about a situation, he fiddled with his sister's gift, reminding himself of a time when he was safer. Leaving Percy's balcony felt like he was leaving the last neutral territory in a war zone and going back into danger. He didn't know what was waiting for him in the Underworld. All he knew was that he'd promised himself he wouldn't come back until he'd found Jason.

The battle with Cronus was over, but Nico wouldn't find peace until he saw his old friend's face. He'd asked himself, in the wake of the fight, what he needed to do to move on, and that was his answer. So that was what he was going to do.

Percy was eyeing him intently, his blue-green gaze thoughtful. The older boy had his moments of perception, and it seemed like this was one of them. His expression became sad.

"If I hug you," he ventured, "will you stab me?"

"Possibly." Nico didn't want to be hugged. It would feel too much like a goodbye.

"I'm going to hug you anyway. Just so you know."

Nico stiffened as Percy shuffled closer, loosing draping his arms around Nico's neck. He smelled like he hadn't showered since the battle. There was Cheeto dust on his jaw.
Something twinged in Nico's heart anyway; a shred of fondness he hadn't realized he possessed. He thought, maybe, that Percy would miss him if he didn't come back. They were the only children of the Big Three left, after all. Complicated as their past was, they were bound by that.

"I know I've apologized, like, a thousand times," Percy said, stepping back. "And you told me to stop, so I will. But if there's any way I can make up--"

"You can't raise the dead," Nico cut him off, and couldn't stop the thin smile that crossed his face at the irony. "Fortunately, I can."

Resignation crossed Percy's face, like that was exactly what he was afraid of. He gripped Nico's shoulder, his hand burning through Nico's shirt and jacket. "You can't." You shouldn't.

Nico twisted from his grasp. "You have a fairly poor understanding of what I'm capable of," he said. "That's why I'm your Achilles' heel." He climbed over the balcony, getting ready to leave, and then looked back at Percy.

His friend looked terrified.

"Don't worry," Nico said. "Everything's going to work out fine, I promise." His words sounded ridiculously empty; they weren't his own. He'd stolen them from Jason, from that long-ago day when Nico's biggest problem was a few disturbing dreams. "I know what I'm doing."

"I don't," Percy said, and Nico faded into the shadows.

Reyna was glaring daggers at Jason across the Principa. He tried to pretend he was unaffected, munching on his Doritos while standing guard, but it was harder to ignore her ire when her hounds echoed her mood with their growls.

Argum and Argentium were hardly Jason's biggest fans; right now, neither was Reyna. He'd turned down the title of Praetor following the defeat of Saturn, a move that had left his long-time partner high and dry. From the day she'd--grudgingly--vouched for him in the Legion, he and Reyna had each others' backs. It was clear she felt betrayed.

As Praetor, Jason would be tied to the Legion. His loyalty would be to Rome alone. He couldn't make that oath; not to Reyna, and certainly not to the gods. They'd probably sense the doubt in his heart and strike him down.

Reyna was his best friend, but she saw the world in extreme black and white. There was no room for people like Jason, who'd let the words of his enemy sway him. There was no room for anyone who doubted the gods--or worse, the primacy of New Rome.

"Are you going to talk to me, or just keep skewering me with your eyes?" he finally asked, popping another chip into his mouth.

"You shouldn't eat on duty," she rebuked. "I should whip you."

"I'm sure you'd like that." He paused at the unintentional double-meaning in his words. He'd always treaded carefully around Reyna, knowing that she wanted more out of their relationship than he was prepared to offer. Until she admitted as much to his face, he couldn't outright reject her, but he could at least watch his own damn mouth. "I mean. Um."

"I know," she snapped, like she'd figured out his dilemma just from that two-second pause. She probably had. Reyna was sharper than the tip of Ivlivs. She also didn't beat around the bush, so the fact that she hadn't already demanded to know why he'd refused praetorship spoke volumes. It was likely she'd already guessed that, too.

Jason finished the bag of Doritos and crumpled it between his hands. "You can punish me if you want," he said, wondering if he meant eating on duty or turning down the leader's role. Both, probably. "But it was my decision, not yours."

"You hurt me," she said frankly. He was pretty sure she wasn't talking about the chips. "We were supposed to rule New Rome together."

Her words reminded him of Krios's declaration; that Jason was supposed to be an emperor, or whatever. But it was too late for that. He'd already been unseated, ruined. He didn't want to rule--he just wanted to know where he came from. He wanted to know why he woke up, shaken from nightmares he didn't remember. He wanted to have a reason for the past four years, and so far, he hadn't found one.

Could he put that in words without hurting her more than he already had? He was about to try when the new probatio, Frank Zhang, raced into the Principa without so much as a hail. His armor clanged noisily. He almost tripped over his spear.

Jason suppressed a smile, while Reyna suppressed an exasperated sigh. Their leadership styles, summed up in less than five seconds.

"There's a--it's--the river," Frank gasped out. He was a big guy, fit; he wasn't out of breath from running. Something had spooked him. "There's a--and it was--came outta nowhere."

"What?" Reyna demanded, rising from her chair. "For the love of Jupiter, speak in complete sentences."

"Two kids crossed the river," Frank said, drawing in a deep breath. "One wants to see you. Claims he's an ambassador of Pluto. He--he appeared out of thin air. I saw it."

Reyna shared a long look with Jason. She wanted him to come with her. He was resistant. She narrowed her gray eyes, and won the silent argument.

"Show us," she commanded Frank.

He nodded fervently, dashing off the way he'd come in.

"Slowly," Reyna called after him, using the same tone she usually applied to her dogs. She shot Jason an annoyed look, and he guessed he was--temporarily--forgiven. He trailed after Reyna, chucking his chip bag into one of her decorative vases. He hated those things. They gave him the creeps.

He drew Ivlivs. Chances were, the new kids were just that--future Legionnaires sent by Lupa--but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Besides, Frank claimed one of the kids had just appeared, which sounded like suspicious, possibly divine behavior.

Fabulous. The last thing Camp Jupiter needed was to play host to another god--the last one had only just left. Jason didn't have any more feasting or bowing left in him. They still had to repair the camp from the recent battle, dammit, and--

His irate train of thought was disrupted by a couple of fauns, and he didn't pick it up again. The fauns were excited about something; he heard the word gold a lot more often than usual.

Frank led them out of the camp and to the river, where six Legionnaires were standing over a dripping wet girl and a glowering boy.

The girl was probably around twelve or thirteen, in a blue dress and white sweater. She was surrounded by gold bricks--that explained the fauns' excitement. Her curly hair immediately made Jason think of Hermione, from the Harry Potter books, and then he stopped noticing her altogether because the boy was staring at him in a way that no stranger should be staring.

He was looking straight at Jason, his murky eyes wide with--what? Horror? Revulsion? It was definitely up there in the territory of WTF, peppered with a healthy dose of No Way In Hell. His mouth had dropped open, something Jason had previously thought only happened in cartoons. His hand was on the girl's elbow, but absently, like he'd been helping her up and then forgot what he was doing.

Jason looked down to make sure he hadn't turned into something fanged or taloned without realizing it. Reyna, who'd also picked up on the weirdness, glanced back at him in confusion.

"Are you doing something to the air?" she murmured.

"Of course not," he replied, indignant. "I only do that to my enemies. I don't even know this kid."

But.

He frowned, giving the boy a closer look. He wasn't entirely sure that was true. Something about him was familiar, Jason just couldn't put a finger on it.

The kid recovered himself, pulling the girl to her feet. His face shifted, becoming more guarded. His eyes flicked to Reyna like he was waiting for her line. She obliged.

"Who are you?"

"Nico di Angelo," he said. His voice did strange things to Jason's stomach. "Ambassador of Pluto."

He was looking at everyone but Jason, his chin raised like he was waiting for them to argue with him. "This is my sister, Hazel. She needs . . ." he faltered, showing his first trace of humanity. ". . . help. Badly."

As if to prove his point, the girl's knees buckled. Nico dove to help her again, but this time failed to catch her. She fainted on the ground, eyes rolling back in her head.

"Someone take her to the infirmary," Reyna ordered. "Stop standing around like a bunch of useless fauns. Zhang, McAvery--back on guard. The rest of you, escort the . . . Ambassador," she said the word with so much skepticism, Jason didn't know why she didn't just slap the kid and get it over with, "to the Principa. We have much to talk about."

The Legionnaires scattered.

Jason took Nico by the elbow. "I'll take him," he said, and the boy slanted him a sideways look. The shock was gone, replaced with a more calculated expression. Jason wasn't sure, but he thought Nico was hiding something.

Jason had spent most of his life relying on his instincts. They now warned him that Nico di Angelo was a big deal. He might be scrawny and sickly looking, but that didn't make him harmless. And two children of Pluto . . . no way this was just a routine probatio drop-off.

"You don't know me," Nico said flatly. He didn't sound like he was asking.

"Should I?" Jason frowned. It couldn't be a coincidence, right? Him feeling like he knew Nico, and Nico almost (but not quite) asking if he did? Or was it just that deja vu worked both ways?

"If you don't know, I'm not telling," the son of Pluto said, and yanked his elbow from Jason's grip. His tense posture suggested Jason would end up on his ass if he tried grabbing Nico again.

Confused, Jason escorted Nico di Angelo to the Principa in silence.

Chapter Text

Nico didn't stay at the Roman camp for long.

He was going to give himself away. One wrong word, one affectionate gesture, and he'd blow the whole thing wide open. When Hera sent Nico to Camp Jupiter with Hazel, she'd mentioned nothing of lost demigods--but that wasn't a surprise. The gods weren't known for their transparency. Whatever events Hera had set in motion, Nico knew better than to screw them up; and he had the feeling that telling Jason who he really was would do just that.

When he was younger, still getting used to life alone and on the run, he'd fantasized about Jason coming back. The demigod would swoop down from the sky, a sheepish smile plastered to his face, and explain that he'd gotten totally lost on the way back to camp. And Nico would laugh and Jason would laugh and everything would instantly be fixed. Jason would help him find a way to bring Bianca back, and then the three of them would run away somewhere where there was no camp, no Hunters, and no one to keep them apart. Nico would have a family again.

After Minos was through with him, Nico had lost all hope in that dream. His journeys through the Underworld to search for Jason's soul had been more about closure than regaining anything he'd lost; he was too used to the idea that his family was gone forever. Running into Hazel had been an unexpected second chance--but she wasn't Jason. She'd never be Jason.

The moment Nico saw the son of Zeus (Jupiter)--well, the moment after he was done being shocked beyond belief to find what he'd been looking for in the last place he'd expect, his feelings had slammed into him like a Mach truck. Bring on the butterflies. Bring on the childish embarrassment. Nico's crush on Jason hadn't gone away; and worse, he was aware of it, now. Nothing was fixed.

It was like looking for a water fountain and getting a vending machine instead. He could see what he wanted, but he was straight out of change. That $1.50 bottle of Aquafina was never going to be his. It was torture.

He couldn't keep it up for long. Jason already sensed something was off. He watched Nico with those pale, ice chip eyes like he was waiting for the other boy to attack. He asked questions Nico wasn't comfortable answering; how Nico had survived on his own, why he'd never come across Lupa or any of the dozen Roman names Jason dropped like a test, where his family was. He gave Nico a mother of a heart attack, asking what happened to his sister--it took a full thirty seconds for Nico to realize that (of course) Jason was asking about Hazel, not Bianca.

He asked Nico to spar, the challenge clear in his tone, and it killed Nico's pride to refuse but he didn't have that kind of control in him. He'd decimate Jason in a fight.

Nico stuck it out until Hazel made her first friend--an overgrown puppy who called himself Frank--then broke the news that he had to go.

"Where?" she asked him, eyes wide. "You're leaving me here?"

He worried about her, of course, but she was strong. She had to be, to have retained so much of her consciousness in the Fields of Asphodel. Her power was frightening to him, the king of creepy. The Roman camp was the right place for her; it wasn't for him.

"I can't stay," he said, regretful anyway. "You'll be okay."

"What if they find out about me?" she asked, knotting her fingers together. She glanced nervously up at the altar to Pluto, as if asking their father to protect her. He wouldn't. It was best she learned that as soon as possible.

"I wouldn't be able to help you anyway," Nico told her bluntly. "You're going to have to work it out on your own."

Hurt flashed over her face. He knew how lonely it felt to hear those words, and forced himself to soften the blow.

"You've already done something amazing, Hazel." He reached out to pat her shoulder. "You're strong and honest. People will sense that about you, and you won't have to worry about what you're hiding. I promise you'll be okay."

"I'd rather you promise you'll be back," she muttered.

"Of course I'll be back," he said. He thought of how heartbroken he'd been when Bianca joined the Hunters. He'd been okay with her leaving--the hard part was not knowing if she'd be back. He squeezed Hazel's shoulder gently. "You're my sister. Even if I have to come back from the grave, I will." He grinned. "And you know how to contact me if you really need something."

"Yeah." She hugged her elbows. "You really have to go?"

"I'm sorry," he said, and glanced up at the altar, too. "Do you remember what you told me, about your visions?"

"That I wanted them to stop?" There was the barest trace of amusement in her voice--it seemed dark humor was a family trait, after all.

"That the worst was how real it felt," he said. "Having to live through the ghosts of your past."

Understanding flitted over her face, and she leaned into his side. "He's your ghost."

Nico hadn't told her much about Jason, but he'd been forced to explain they knew each other from before the camp. And Hazel, being Hazel, had picked up that there was more to it than that.

He tucked his arm in hers, linking their elbows. He didn't want to talk about it, and maybe she picked up on that, too, because she changed the subject to the logistics of microwave popcorn and didn't ask him to stay again.

He left the next morning, pretending he didn't notice the relief in the guards' eyes as they watched him go through the gates. He'd be back, but for now he pretended that he wouldn't. There was definite irony there--going for years wanting nothing more than to see Jason's face, then wishing it away when it finally appeared.

Jason wasn't the same Jason. He was tough and taller, his blue eyes ten degrees colder. Nico didn't want to be his enemy, but he was pretty sure they'd never again be friends.

He couldn't be friends, not with his ears burning every time Jason walked in the room. Not with the weight of years of searching squarely between his shoulders. Not with his stupid heart still thinking it belonged to a ten-year-old boy.

He could keep his feelings a secret, or he could keep the dual camps a secret. He couldn't do both.

So he did what he always did, the only thing he was able to do, the only thing he knew how to do. He ran.

Chapter Text

Jason turned the empty vial over in his hands, light catching on each facet of the glass. He guessed he should be happy; he'd won his childhood memories back. It was only all he'd ever wanted since he was eleven years old.

He'd known part of what he was getting into when he swallowed the memory cure. Annabeth had told him some things, and hinted at others, when he first arrived. He knew she hadn't seen him since she was thirteen, and that they'd been friends. He knew he didn't always get along with Percy Jackson, and that his sister had been at camp with them. And he knew that the daughter of Athena was holding back a lot of details that would come back to bite him.

He wasn't expecting quite so much of a red pill.

Remembering his time at Half-Blood was like asking for a pony for Christmas and getting stampeded by stallions instead. His Greek and Roman memories didn't like each other; they bulldozed over his consciousness, forcing him to question every decision he'd ever made, convincing him that he'd never been completely himself; he'd always been missing a piece.

Krios had told him that Percy Jackson usurped his rightful place. If that was true--and Jason had his doubts--then Jason should have stayed at the Greek camp. He should have, what? Faced Cronus? That didn't seem right, because Krios had called him an emperor. Emperors were Roman.

Maybe he was never supposed to have gone to Camp Half-Blood.

Maybe Krios had been talking about what hadn't happened yet--the swap between the Greek and Roman camps. That interpretation of the Titan's words had a lot more disturbing implications. Jason remembered Percy as reckless, stubborn, hot-headed. From the way Annabeth talked, he hadn't changed much. If he was truly taking Jason's place in the camp, then Jupiter was doomed . . .

"You've been staring at that thing for nearly an hour," Piper said, resting her hands on the railing beside him. She looked out across the camp, enjoying the view from the Argo II. "Is it really so fascinating?"

"My life was in this bottle," he told her. "Everything that used to be important to me."

"And?"

"I'm reevaluating the definition of 'important'," he admitted. "All I gained was . . ." He faltered, not wanting to sound melodramatic.

"Pain?" she supplied dryly, and raised her eyebrows. "What did you expect? Demigods have tragic pasts. It's part of the job description. You didn't think you'd be the exception, did you?"

"Of course not." He leaned on the railing next to her. "I thought the reason I didn't feel at home here was because I had amnesia," he said. "And now I know that I never felt at home here, because I'm actually Roman."

He sighed, running his hand across his scalp. His hair was growing out shaggy, longer than he liked to keep it. It tickled his neck. "And I never felt at home in the Roman camp because I was missing my memories of here. My head's been meddled with so many times, I'm not even sure who I am anymore. All I know is that something's still missing."

"Your sister?" she suggested. Her shoulder brushed his as she settled next to him, her own choppy hair stirring in the breeze. Jason could hear birds, and Leo clanking away below decks, and nothing else. It was a peaceful moment.

It should have been a peaceful moment.

"No," he said. "I don't miss Thalia. I mean, I do, but not like that. I've lived more of my life away from her than with her. I just . . . I still don't fit anywhere. Someone told me once--" he shouldn't put so much stock in Krios's words, really, but he did, "--that I was supposed to be great. He made me sound special."

"Jason." Piper shot him a scandalized look. "I can't believe you. You're the son of Jupiter, king of the gods, who grew up in not one, but two demigod training camps. You hold the best of both worlds between your hands--you defeated a Titan lord on your own--you can fly--and you don't think you're special? Exactly how high is the bar, for you?"

"Nico di Angelo," he said.

She blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"I just remembered. Nico di Angelo, I knew him from this camp--" He looked out over Strawberry Hill, pulling his oldest friend from the depths of his muddled memories. He remembered the geeky kid with all the Mythomagic cards, and then the older, rangier teenager who'd dropped Hazel off at Camp Jupiter. He felt vaguely sick.

"He was also the Roman camp," he explained, aware that he was testing the limits of Piper's patience with his thousand yard stares. He forced himself to look at her instead of the camp.

"He knew about both?" Piper rested her chin on her folded arms. "He's the Hades kid, right? I think I remember Annabeth telling me about him. His sister died."

Bianca. Jason's fingers tightened around the railing. "I didn't know that part," he murmured. That explained the huge character gap. "I just remember thinking he didn't seem like he belonged, either."

"This belonging thing," Piper said. "I think you're overthinking it. You belong where you want to belong. It's not some mystic quest or whatever." She cocked her head, glancing up at him. "What you're really saying is that you don't want to be at either camp. Just like Nico."

Her tone was matter-of-fact. She didn't ask the obvious question; if he didn't want to be at the camp, did that mean he didn't want to be with her?

He didn't know. But being Piper's boyfriend had never felt right. He'd blamed it on the Mist, but there was no Mist clouding his thoughts now. His reluctance was entirely on him.

"Piper," he began.

"Don't apologize." She straightened, crossing her arms over her camp t-shirt. Even in the old shirt and her cutoff shorts, she was gorgeous. Jason was an idiot to not want her, and they both knew it. "I can't force you to want me, and let's face it--that's what this whole relationship was based on."

"Piper--" he repeated.

"Shut up," she interrupted. "It's not your fault, okay? I was the one who manipulated the Mist, I was the one being delusional all on my own, and now I'm the one who's hurt. It's got nothing to do with you."

She stepped away from him, took a deep breath, and turned back. "For what it's worth," she said, "there's something to being honest about how you feel. Just saying."

"I wasn't lying," he tried to explain.

She narrowed her eyes. "Not how you feel about me, dumbass," she said, and strode away before he could ask what she meant.

He almost missed his amnesia days. Things had actually made more sense back then.

"It's connected, isn't it?" Hazel challenged. "Jason disappearing. Percy appearing. They're related incidents, right?"

Nico wished his sister wasn't half as clever as she thought she was. "Leave it alone, Haz'. Some stones are best left unturned."

"Don't go cryptic on me," she scolded. "Percy acted like he knew you. I know you know what's going on."

"I don't, actually," he snapped, and then felt bad. It wasn't Hazel's fault he was utterly lost in this whole mess. Demigods being swapped around the camps like game pieces--memory loss across the board, dead demigods turning out not to be dead, ancient forces stirring--it was just like the Titan War, only this time he was the only one who seemed aware of the coming storm. And he couldn't warn a soul.

At least he knew Jason was safe. If Percy was here, then Jason had to be at Half-Blood. Hopefully, Chiron would start making sense of things. In the meantime, Nico had to sit tight and stay quiet.

"Something is coming, I can tell you that much," he said. "But no, I don't know what it is. I don't know when it will happen. All I do know is that I have to be careful what I say and to who, and it's driving me insane."

Annoyance flashed over Hazel's face; then passed, quickly, like a flood subsiding. She took his hand in her own.

"I'm sorry," she said, because she was the better person. She was always the better person. "It's just--this is freaking me out. Thanatos captured, monsters not following the usual rules . . . I only just got a handle on this world, and already it's turning upside down."

He couldn't stop his smile. "You'd better get used to it. You're a hero, now. There are no more rules."

He squeezed her hand tightly. He felt better with his sister at his side--he had no doubts that, between the two of them, they could handle a rebelling world, even if it had gone a little wonky. He wished he could take her into the Underworld with him, but that wasn't an option, even if she wasn't already slated for a quest.

"Listen," he said. "I'm scared, too. But everything is going to be okay."

Jason had promised him the same thing, and then vanished. Nico had promised Percy, and then Percy had vanished. Nico tried not to think about that. He'd lose his mind if Hazel vanished, too. He didn't have it in him to let go of another sibling.

"I don't know what's waiting for you in Alaska. It won't be good. Children like us," he hesitated, not sure how to put it, and remembered Jason's words from long ago, "we're mistakes. Which means we have to be twice as careful as anyone else. We have more to prove."

"Is that your idea of a pep talk?" she asked quietly.

"No. It's my idea of a warning," he said. Hazel had to be strong--stronger than him, stronger than Bianca, stronger even than Percy. He'd tried to drum that into her head since the day they met, but he wasn't sure if he'd succeeded, or just made his sister think he hated her. "Here's the pep talk: you're a badass."

She choked back a shocked laugh.

"I'm serious," he insisted. "You scare me, sis, and I hang out with ghosts all day. You're going to be tempted to let Frank and Percy protect you--and they'll want to, for their own reasons--but don't. Fight the dragons. They'll make you stronger." And maybe, if she was strong enough, she wouldn't get dragged back to the Underworld.

"I don't want to die a second time," she said, like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"I'll be with you," he promised. It was the best he could do. "If you go back, I'll stand with you before the judges. I took you from the Underworld--I won't let you pay for my crimes."

That being said, he'd rather not face his fate just yet. He still had a lot more morally questionable decisions he wanted to make before owning up to all of the shit he'd started. He hoped Hazel would succeed. He hoped she'd be better than him.

"I wish you'd stay at camp," she told him. A little ways away, near the camp border, Percy Jackson was receiving last-minute instructions from Reyna. Nico didn't envy him in the least. It was nearly time for Hazel to go.

"I have to help Dad," he said, which was only partly true. It wasn't his responsibility to keep the Underworld in order; Hades certainly hadn't asked for his help; but the Underworld was a neutral zone. A safe place. With Jason in one camp and Percy in the other, Nico felt twice as uncomfortable at both. He was sick of jumping from place to place, anyway. The land of the dead might be harsh, cold, and full of things that wanted to kill him, but at least he could be honest there. Secretly, he thought, it was the only place he really belonged.

"You be strong, too," Hazel said to him. "Just because you can go to the Underworld doesn't mean you should. It's still the afterlife."

"I know, I know." He felt, nostalgically, like he was being lectured by Bianca. It had been a while since he'd had anyone shake their finger at him. "We good with the goodbyes, now?"

She hugged him. "No goodbye. I'll see you when we return."

"When we return," he said, solemnly. It felt like a vow.

He disappeared into the shadows, letting the chill overtake him. He'd never describe the experience as pleasant, but he was used to it now. The last thing he saw before the darkness clouded his vision was his sister's stoic face.

And then he was gone.

Chapter Text

Jason kept his temper in check during the battle with the giants, and while they hauled Nico's semi-unconscious form back to the ship. He was angry with himself, for willingly plunging into a trap for his old friend, but more than that--

"You're a little shit!" he snarled, the second Nico's feet hit the deck of the Argo II. Percy looked alarmed. Nico just looked resigned.

"What the actual Hades?" Jason went on, every annoyed thought he'd suppressed in the last nine months bubbling over now that he was finally looking Nico in the face. "You knew about the camps? You knew about me? And what's this I hear about you trying to trade Percy in to Hades? Who taught you to betray your friends?!"

"In my defense," Nico mumbled, hands in his pockets, "you did say Big Three kids rarely got along."

"Oh my gods, I want to punch you," Jason announced. He couldn't stand still. He paced the deck, not caring that the agitated winds he was causing were tugging dangerously at the sails.

"Uh, J-man," Leo ventured. "I know you're angry, but c'mon. Let's not crash. If we die, Nico will win."

He had a point.

Jason glared at the son of Hades, forcing the winds to settle down, even if he couldn't. "You knew," he repeated. "All this time, I was searching for my past, and you held the key all along."

"Your desire to find out who you were is what fueled your quest with Piper and Leo," Nico said, as if it was something he'd recited in his head a thousand times. "Everything happened the way it was supposed to."

He couldn't have said anything worse.

Jason lunged at him, pinning him to the mast, ignoring Hazel's outraged cry. "I am sick," he snarled, "to effing heck of everyone and their brother telling me how things are 'supposed' to be! My life isn't some great prophecy."

"Actually," Nico said, completely unperturbed by the fact that Jason had him by the collar, "it kind of is."

Jason hauled back and punched him. His knuckles collided with something hard, and sharp--Nico's teeth. His skin tore and stung.

"Jason!" Hazel shrieked at once, seizing his arm. "He's sick!"

Nico slumped against the mast and wiped his mouth with his wrist. It came away bloody. "It's fine, Haze'," he said to his sister. "He's just venting." His eyes met Jason's. "Satisfied?"

Jason gritted his teeth. He didn't like the look on Nico's face--it was full of the danger he'd sensed back in the Roman camp. Nico wasn't someone to mess with. Everything Jason had heard and saw warned him not to pick a fight with the demigod.

But Jason wasn't someone to mess with, either.

"No," he said in a low voice. "Who the heck are you, really? What's your part in all this?"

A mocking smile crossed Nico's face. "If you don't know," he said, carefully, deliberately, "then I'm not going to tell you."

Jason's face burned. Hazel's fingers were tight around his forearm, but he barely noticed. He felt like his eyes were locked on Nico's, like whoever looked away first lost.
He was acting on behalf of the gods. The rational part of Jason understood that. The emotional part of him felt inexplicably betrayed.

If their roles were reversed, Jason wouldn't have left Nico's side. Even if he'd have to keep secrets from his friend, he would. He would have stayed, and protected Nico. But it was obvious Nico didn't protect anyone--not even his own sister. He'd left her in the Roman camp without a second thought.

"Do you care about anyone?" Jason snapped, and Percy--silent until now--got involved. He edged Hazel gently aside and put his hand on Jason's chest. It was a more or less nonthreatening gesture, until Jason remembered Percy saying once (with a distinctly unorthodox look on his face) that the human body was 75% water and, yes, he could control that.

Jason backed away from Nico.

"Take a breath," Percy ordered. "Yeah, Nico's annoying, but we can't start beating each other up every time we have a problem."

Jason stared at Nico, trying to reconcile the young man in front of him with the boy he'd befriended in another life. Try as he might, he couldn't.

Nico's eyes were flat and dark, but--for the briefest of seconds--emotion flickered through them as he gazed back at Jason. He looked tired, and in pain.

Jason gritted his teeth. "Fine. Sorry."

Nico rubbed his nose and sniffed. "Don't worry 'bout it."

Nico had to admit his motives weren't entirely altruistic. He'd insisted that only he and Jason could go to Diocletian's Palace, but the truth was, Hazel was more than strong enough to go in his place.

But Hazel was a quester. She belonged there, and Nico was the outsider. If he stopped being useful, then the others would start to resent his presence, and they were already afraid of him. He couldn't say he blamed them. He was used to spooking other demigods.

That was his argument, anyway.

And yeah, he really was trying to prove himself, but not because he was afraid they'd kick him off the ship. He was testing Jason. The son of Jupiter had been walking on eggshells around Nico for most of the trip. Nico was waiting for him to snap.

Jason knew it. Nico could tell from his tense expression as they wandered through Split. He knew he'd been singled out, and it was making him jittery. Normally, a jittery Jason Grace would have Nico on edge as well, but he was getting used to the agitated puffs of air and occasional rumbles of thunder. Jason was tense a lot, these days.

The quest was weighing on all of them, but it seemed to hit Jason especially hard. He took Percy and Annabeth's fall into Tartarus personally, even though the rest of them--Nico included--had assured him it was all Percy's stupid fault. With Annabeth gone, Jason thought of himself as the leader, meaning that he held sole responsibility for anything that went wrong. And since they were a team of teenage demigods, things went wrong on a regular basis.

Nico was determined this part of their quest wouldn't go wrong. He wouldn't let Jason down.

If he'd been thinking, at all, he'd realize how contradictory his behavior was. He avoided Jason on the ship, but craved his approval. He insisted they didn't know each other any more, but took perverse pride in guessing Jason's thoughts when no one else could. He'd run away from New Rome--multiple times--but always came back. He was trying to deny his feelings, yet here he was, strolling through one of the most romantic places he'd had ever seen.

"Should we talk?" Jason ventured, while they rounded a plaza that looked like it belonged in a post card. Nico had criss-crossed America dozens of times in the last few years, and seen a lot of impressive things, but Europe was something else. He understood why people would honeymoon here.

"You want to talk?" Nico asked. He hadn't been avoiding Jason for nothing. He hated the nervous excitement that splashed around in his stomach like an overeager kid learning to swim. He hated how happy he was to have Jason in his life again.

"I don't like being on bad terms with my teammates," Jason said.

"We aren't on bad terms," Nico responded. And they weren't teammates. Nico wasn't supposed to be on this quest, just like Jason wasn't supposed to be on that quest long ago, when their biggest problem was the Great Prophecy, which had turned out to be something of a joke when compared to the actual earth revolting against humanity.

"Then what are we?" Jason asked. It was probably just a throwaway question, but Nico couldn't give such an easy answer. What were they? That was what he'd spent the last three years agonizing about.

He touched the hilt of his sword. It didn't reassure him, exactly, but it seethed Underworld chill and that was almost the same thing.

The angel saved him from having to say anything.

Tall, with curly hair and russet wings, the obviously supernatural being was buying ice cream from a nearby cart. Nico nudged Jason, pointing.

They moved towards the thing. Nico couldn't figure out what it was--not a monster, but not a ghost, either. It had to be some kind of wind spirit, but Jason--their wind spirit expert--looked just as perplexed by the winged man's appearance as Nico.

The angel half-turned, making deliberate eye contact with both of them. A laid-back smile spread over his face, then he pivoted back to accept his ice cream bar from the stand. Using it to beckon Nico and Jason onwards, he vanished.

"He's still here," Jason said at once. "Follow me."

He wove through the crowds, eyes fixed just above the heads of the people they passed. Nico couldn't see what he was looking at, but he trusted Jason knew what he was doing. They broke free of the tourists just before a huge, pink granite fortress. It was Diocletian's Palace; faded, crumbled, a shadow of what it once was, but awe-inspiring nonetheless.

Nico relaxed. Ghosts--even ghost structures--were his forte. He could sense the souls that had suffered and died here, and it calmed him.
He decided not to share that particular thought with Jason, who had stopped, a look of frustration passing over his face.

"He went over the wall," he reported.
Nico looked for the palace entrance. There was only one, and it was crammed with people buying tickets.

"We don't have time for that," Jason decided unilaterally, and grabbed Nico, launching them into the air. His hands sent whirlpools through Nico's body, flooding his abdomen with a weird, floaty feeling that had nothing to do with flying.

The only thing that kept Nico from hurling on the tourists below was the scores of angry dead suddenly clamoring in his ears. Their coldness steadied him. They wanted attention, and they knew he could hear him. They demanded he right some great injustice they'd been dealt, and while their complaints gave him a headache, they distracted him until he was safely on the ground and Jason was no longer touching him.

He whacked Jason on the arm, knuckles clenched, holding nothing back. "Don't ever do that again," he snarled. "I know ways to make you bleed."

"All right, all right," Jason crabbed, rubbing the spot Nico had punched. "I got us over the wall, didn't I?" He pivoted, and swore. "Still lost the guy, though."

"We're close. Chill," Nico grumbled, still ruffled from the flight. The ship was barely tolerable--being in the air with only Jason keeping him from sudden death?

Yeah. No. Never happening again.

He gave the courtyard a once-over, trying to ignore the ghosts fighting in the back of his mind. The Romans were angry that the Christians were here; the Christians were angry the Romans wouldn't leave. Even in the afterlife, they were at war.

Something tugged just below Nico's stomach; an instinct that felt more . . . personal . . . than most. He grabbed Jason's sleeve, hauling him towards a staircase that led--somewhere. Down. Into the earth, where Nico belonged. At the top of the stairs rested a single russet feather.

"We have to go underground?" Jason asked.

"Don't whine," Nico said, releasing his sleeve. "I flew with you. Now you grave-dig with me."

"I'm beginning to re-think this friendship."

"Don't worry. We aren't friends." Nico descended the stairs with a lot less caution than usual. He was eager to go where he felt safe, where there wasn't so much pesky open air and weren't so many people and, most importantly, Jason Grace felt off-balance. He could deal with Jason Grace off-balance.

"If we aren't friends, what are we?" Jason asked, on his heels. He muttered it, so Nico had no qualms pretending he hadn't heard.

The stairs led down into a chamber that pleasantly reminded Nico of a crypt. Massive stone pillars held up the arched ceiling, and torches flickered with orange light around the perimeter of the space. The floor was pebbled with deep pores, slick under Nico's feet. He drew his sword. He couldn't sense any danger, but his senses had failed him before. That was how he'd wound up trapped in a jar under the Colosseum.

"I don't like this," Jason said, needlessly. Nico knew he didn't like it. No one in their right mind would like it.

Nico, meanwhile, was right at home.

He wandered away from Jason to examine the pillars more closely. It amazed him that a structure this old could still be standing, after the centuries of abuse it was put through.

"Hello!" someone said chipperly, and then there was a loud crash.

Nico whirled around, sword raised, lips pulled back in a hiss. He already had three spirits racing through the nether to join him when he saw the winged man standing a few feet away. He was unarmed, unless the basket of green fruit over his arm counted as a weapon.

Given their luck, it probably did.

Jason, meanwhile, was sheepishly hovering over a shattered bust. Nico knew it was a bust because half of it was still intact and on its pedestal. Jason must have panicked and lashed out at the first thing he saw, decapitating the already decapitated statue of Diocletian in the corner.

"That wasn't very nice," the angel said, more or less good-naturedly. "What'd he ever do to you?"

His eyes glittered with humor. In his board shorts and lame sandals, he reminded Nico strongly of Percy, king of chill. The mischievous smirk didn't help much.

"He startl--I was startled," Jason said. "You startled me."

The guy clapped a hand over his heart. His wings twitched with the motion. "Moi? No, wait, we're in Croatia, so that would be--mi?" He set his basket down and fixed Jason with a distinctly miffed expression. "I've been called many things, Jason Grace," he declared. "Fair. Dashing. Unnaturally good at Jenga. But startling? Never. I leave that sort of behavior to my crasser brothers in the north."

"You're Favonius," Jason said, and shot Nico a look.

The look was probably because Nico was edging away from the god of the West Wind like the spirit had just admitted to having the plague. There was something deeply unnatural about a wind god below the earth. It messed with the balance of the universe. Plus, if Nico was correctly remembering the story Annabeth had told him about the West Wind--and who he worked for--he and Jason were both screwed.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

He was too harsh to be addressing a deity, but Favonius was unruffled. He scooped up his basket again and hung it over his arm like he was going for a stroll through the woods to visit his granny.

"Right now, I'm talking to you," he said. "Hanging out with my fruit. I like this stuff. It's kind of my thing, you know? My brothers get, what, snow and ice? Or, on the other side, volcanoes and asteroids? Me, I have fruit. Fruit never hurt anyone."

"Says you," Jason said. He sheathed his sword. "You've obviously never gotten on the wrong side of a golden apple."

"Well, magic fruit is a different matter," Favonius agreed. "Although, sometimes, it can be helpful." His gaze landed on Nico. "I suppose I'm preaching to the choir on that one, Pomegranate Boy."

"How do you know about that?" Nico asked.

"Oh, you know," the wind spirit said airily. "I've been keeping an eye on you since you came here as a child."

Nico had thought the palace seemed familiar, but all of his memories blurred together at a certain point and stopped making sense. Lots of places seemed familiar to him; didn't mean he'd been to them all.

"I don't remember you," he said.

"Well, I was invisible," the West Wind said, like it should be obvious. "Now, what was I doing? Oh, yes. I have a message. What you're looking for isn't here." He nodded a few times, agreeing with his own statement. "Nope, far too dangerous to keep here. My master's keeping it safe for you. I'll take you there."

"His master?" Jason asked Nico in an undertone.

Nico put a hand on his sword, gripping it tightly. He wasn't liking where this expedition was leading. In fact, he was beginning to wish he'd stayed on the ship.

He remembered where he'd heard the rumor about Favonius's master before. It wasn't from Annabeth. It had been from the master himself.

"Eros," he said, hating the tremor in his voice. "Also known as Cupid."

And then Favonius snapped his fingers, and the three of them dissolved into the wind.

Chapter Text

They rematerialized in a ghost town.

If being carried through the air had freaked Nico out, Jason could only imagine how terrifying being air had been for the demigod; the kid flattened himself against the nearest pillar, his face draining of what little color it had regained since his ordeal in the jar. Beneath his feet, the grass growing between the cobblestones of the street started to wither.

Jason reached out to steady Nico, and the boy snapped, "Stay back!"

It occurred to Jason that if Nico was killing grass in his panic, it was probably a bad idea to touch the son of Hades. He glued his hands to his sides.

The buildings around him were clearly abandoned--the ruins of yet another Greek or Roman town. Annabeth probably would have been able to tell the difference, but the pillars and statues all looked the same to him.

Laughter rippled through the small courtyard they were standing in.

Nico started to shake.

"Nico?" Jason asked, worried. Could the other boy sense something Jason couldn't? Was there a danger here that Jason hadn't recognized?

"Not you," Nico said, but he didn't seem to be talking to Jason.

The laugh echoed around them again; the sound bouncing off the buildings, ringing in Jason's ears. He spun, trying to pinpoint the source, and couldn't.

"Nico," Jason said, since his friend--or shipmate, if Nico was going to insist they weren't friends--seemed to know more about what was going on than him, "is this normal?"

"None of this is normal," Nico gasped, his hands clawing at the pillar behind him for balance. His knees buckled.

Ever the drama queen, a deep voice said.

Jason's sword was out before the last syllable resonated through the courtyard; rather than look, he threw the winds, searching for breath that wasn't his or Nico's. He turned up empty.

Valiant effort, Jason Grace, the voice said. Ultimately futile. But valiant. You've come a long way from the boy who faced Krios at the end of times.

The hairs on the back of Jason's neck stood on end. Something about the unseen speaker reminded him of Gaia; the way it rumbled, and resonated deep in his body, beyond his ears. Like the earth, this being spoke from the dawn of humanity--possibly before it.

Like the earth, it couldn't be trusted.

"Leave him alone," Nico said, weakly, seconds before an arrow whizzed towards Jason's head.

He just barely dodged it, his senses slower than usual, and reacted without thinking, hurtling his sword--not towards the physical source of the arrow, but towards where it felt like it had originated. The Imperial gold weapon flew through the open window of one of the abandoned buildings, hitting something solid with a clang. Jason raced to the house, only to find it lodged in a crack in the wall. He yanked it out, frustrated.

I admire the passion, the unseen voice commented. But how do you hope to fight someone you can't see?

Back in the courtyard, Nico yelped, and Jason's stomach rose into his throat.

Someone you won't even name?

Jason ran out of the house, prepared to defend Nico--but the kid was alone. He'd slumped to the ground with his back against the pillar. His sword lay, useless, at his side. He looked at Jason before quickly dropping his eyes. His expression was complicated, but Jason thought the other guy was ashamed.

"Who are you?" Jason shouted, to the sky since it seemed as good a guess as any. "Show yourself!"

The laugh came again; louder, this time. Deeper. It rumbled the ground under Jason's feet, and nearly knocked Nico into unconsciousness, if the fluttering of his eyelids was anything to go by.

Show myself? the voice cackled. You have your father's arrogance. In all of history, only one mortal viewed my face--and it was nearly her undoing. Your sister told you the tale of Psyche, didn't she? In the backseat of the car while you waited for your mother to come back from the grocery store.

Jason flinched. With the words, he could hear his sister's angry, tight voice; her fists uselessly banging on the child locks. They'd been in the backseat for an hour. It was the middle of July.

Thalia had told him story after story to keep him calm, though she'd been just as afraid. The memory had been buried for years--just another snippet from his two-year-old brain that he hadn't had room for as he grew. Now, he wondered how he'd managed to forget.

"You're Cupid," he said aloud. "Psyche was cursed for looking on your face."

She was cursed for her lack of faith, Cupid corrected. It was well your sister told you that tale--less fortunate that you forgot it.

Something hard whacked Jason in the stomach, knocking him to the ground.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, more startled than hurt. "Hey!"

Your own lack of faith will undo you, the god warned.

Jason struggled to his feet. "Lack of faith didn't just sucker punch me," he snapped.

Oh, I'm sorry. Did you expect me to play fair? Cupid's sardonic tone rang in Jason's ears--the god was mocking him.

One day, Jason hoped to meet a god who didn't get their kicks from tormenting demigods and making cryptic remarks. He suspected it was nothing but a pipe dream.

"I expect you to show yourself!" Jason yelped.

Haven't you been listening?

The invisible force smacked into him again, this time from behind. He fell on his hands and knees, banging both against the cobblestones. The weight of the god's anger pressed against his back, holding him down.

"Stop it!" Jason heard Nico shout.

The weight lessened.

Oh? Cupid asked, an unmistakable note of sass touching his booming voice. Does the child of Hades finally deign to speak?

"No more messing around," Nico said. Jason couldn't see him, pinned down as he was, but it sounded like Nico was being harassed, too. His voice was thick. Maybe he was being held by the throat and couldn't get enough air. "Let him go."

And he's giving orders, no less, Cupid said. What, exactly, has changed in the last seventy-four years to elevate you above me?

Jason struggled against the force that held him down, irritation flaring as the god refused to let him up.

Nico di Angelo, Cupid went on. He sounded like he was scolding. For how long will you be willfully blind?

"I don't know what you're talking about," Nico snapped. "We're here for Diocletian's scepter, not to play games!"

There was a loud thud, and the pressure on Jason's back lessened. He turned his head to see Nico, sprawled on the cobblestones, scowling. Maybe it was from the blow, but Nico's eyes were red and watery.

LOVE is not a game, Cupid thundered. It is not a trick, it is not a picnic, and it is certainly not a daydream in a fourteen-year-old boy's head! It's about risk; my wife risked everything to get back to me--could you ever do the same?

"I can safely say I'd never want to go back to you," Nico muttered. The good news was, he didn't seem to be afraid any more. The bad news was, he was angry instead. Angry seemed like a bad idea when facing Cupid; Jason got the feeling that the god was actively trying to provoke them and letting him get what he wanted was a bad idea.

You can't wield the scepter, Cupid said. You're too weak. And the other one, he laughed. Jason Grace, you're almost as bad. At least Hades' brat knows how he feels. You don't know where you belong, let alone who you love.

That cut a little too close to the chest. Jason struggled upwards again, this time throwing Cupid's hold. Sure, he only managed it because the god let him, but standing was standing. He raised his sword.

"What do we have to do to get the scepter?" he demanded.

How can anyone so faithless still sleep at night? Cupid asked, ignoring him. Oh . . . that's right. You don't.

Jason scowled.

Nico cautioned him to be quiet and lower his sword, waving his complaints away with an eye roll. He moved to the center of the courtyard and squared his shoulders.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, like Jason had nothing to do with it.

Finally, Cupid said. You recognize that much, at least.

Nico doubled over, letting out a loud oof of air like he'd just been punched. Jason's knuckles tightened around the hilt of his sword. He tried to grasp for Cupid through the air again, straining his senses beyond their limits in an effort to find the god.

Wielding the staff won't be easy, Cupid warned. It takes grit. You don't have much of that, do you? Always running away when things get tough?

Jason hated the taunting note in the god's voice. Love was supposed to be this warm, safe thing--not a bully that picked out your weaknesses and threw them in your face. He wanted to jump to Nico's defense, but he knew the son of Hades wouldn't let him. Nico was too proud.

You won't get a chance to run away when you have the scepter, Cupid went on. You can't change your mind once you hold it. Indecision will kill you.

"I'll take the chance," Nico said, and that same invisible force sideswiped him.

Jason couldn't take it any more. He lunged forward. He was pretty sure he'd gotten a trace of something in the air--something solid, something to swing his his sword at, faster than his fragmented thoughts.

There was an unmistakable grunt of pain, and then Jason was flat on his back, his ears ringing, the world spotting in and out of focus.

Ow.

He sat, rubbing his head. The tip of his sword was flecked with ichor; godly blood.

You aren't as blind as I thought, Cupid commented. He sounded more impressed than angry. Maybe you're coming close to the truth. Unfortunately, the price I demand for the scepter isn't your honesty. It's his.

Jason looked at Nico.

Nico, his eyebrows knotted together, looked at his feet.

Chapter Text

Tell him, Cupid commanded, officially making this the worst day of Nico's life. Stop hiding in the shadows, Nico di Angelo, and come into the light.

He sounded like the narrator of a bad suspense movie; Nico shivered, deliberately not meeting Jason's eyes. He couldn't look at the guy. He knew Jason would be sympathetic, and that was the last thing he wanted to see.

Go on, Cupid encouraged, but not in a kind way. More of a go-on-or-I'll-hit-you-again way.

Nico swallowed. He knew what the god wanted. A long time ago, Cupid had promised this day would come and Nico, a foolish little kid, hadn't believed him. He'd forgotten--at least until they'd talked to Favonius.

"Nico," Jason said, a little nervously. "What does he want?"

"To humiliate me," Nico muttered.

Humiliate? Cupid snapped. Nico expected another blow, but it didn't come. You still look down on me, child of Hades? You'll never reach me that way.

Nico would be happy enough to leave the god alone--but they needed that stupid staff. Which meant he needed to suck it up and tell Jason the truth.

The very thought made his knees go weak again.

"Whatever it is, just tell him," Jason urged. Easy for him to say.

Oh, yes, just tell me, Cupid said, sounding amused. I do so love your mortal love stories. His laugh rippled through the courtyard yet again. That was getting annoying. Do you honestly think there are words in his heart that I cannot hear, Jason Grace? He doesn't have to tell me. He has to tell you.

Jason looked at Nico.

Nico wanted to melt into a puddle.

"Oh." Jason said. He was sharp. There was no way he didn't suspect something weird was going on; if he hadn't figured it out already. The thought should have made Nico brave, but instead, it intensified his fear.

"What do you have to tell me?" the son of Jupiter asked, uncertain.

The ground rumbled under Nico's feet; not Cupid this time. The dead. They sensed how threatened he felt--his panic was summoning them.

He remembered doing the same thing to Percy Jackson, so many years ago. Before he'd known who he was: back when he was just a kid who'd lost his sister and his--and Jason. He'd been terrified of the skeletal warriors that rose to his aid. Now, he hoped they'd kick Cupid's heart-printed ass.

An object whizzed by his face, nearly taking off the tip of his nose. An arrow.

"Watch it," Jason snapped.

Cupid just laughed.

The earth shook again, cracks splitting the cobblestone street wide. Nico braced himself, prepared for dusty, brown skeletons to emerge from the grave.

Are you going to hide behind the dead forever? Cupid challenged. Even your father doesn't cross me. He recognized me when I came to him, all those centuries ago.

"You mean, when he kidnapped my poor stepmother?" Nico grumbled. "I hate that story."

Because you never understood me. You were always too afraid to feel real love, Cupid accused. To afraid to face it--too afraid to answer that one question I ask of you--

The warriors had found Cupid. Their unseeing eyes were better than Nico's; they pinned the god down. It would have looked funny, if Nico was in a laughing mood. Cupid was undeterred.

Well? he demanded. What is he? What is Jason Grace, to you?

Nico gritted his teeth.

"That's what this is about?" Jason asked, baffled, and Nico whirled on him.

"Yes, that's what this is about!" he shouted. "This whole damn mess--my whole damn mess--is because of you! Satisfied?"

He wasn't sure if he was asking Jason or Cupid.

"I don't get it," Jason said.

Nico shoved him. One of the skeletons glanced over its shoulder as if to say, Hey--boss? Are we holding down the right guy?

"Of course you don't get it!" he snapped, his voice cracking. His eyes stung. He hadn't cried since Bianca died, not even in Tartarus. "You were dead for three years! You were supposed to be dead!"

"Do you want me to be dead?" Jason exclaimed, shoving Nico in return. Nico stumbled backwards a few steps. "Do you hate me that much?"

Dimly, Nico could hear Cupid laughing in the background.

"I don't--hate you," he said, through gritted teeth.

Answer him, Cupid snickered. Or are you still going to pretend?

Nico wanted to cry. He could barely unclench his jaw long enough to croak out, "I'm in love. With. Well. I'm in love with you." He glanced towards the pile of skeletons and added, using hostility to cover up his complete mortification, "Happy now?"

Jason looked like he'd been slapped. The skeletal warriors crumbled back into the ground.

Cupid appeared, a winged guy carrying a sword in one hand and a scepter in the other. He was buff; gorgeous. Nico didn't care.

"I'm not happy," the god said. "But I'm proud. I don't like being ignored, you know."

He tossed the scepter towards them. It landed at Nico's feet.

"I'm not done with you," Cupid promised, but it didn't sound like a threat. For the first time, the god sounded like a love god should; soft, and welcoming. "But, for today, consider me conquered."

Whoop-de-frigging-do.

He vanished without another word, which was good, because Nico wanted to punch him.

Jason's mouth was hanging open. He looked completely blindsided by Nico's confession. His heterosexual brain was probably exploding into a thousand horrified pieces.

Nico bent down to pick up the staff. It was taking all of his self-control not to slip into one of the late afternoon shadows around the abandoned houses and run. He was tempted to try and close the Doors pf Death by himself. With the scepter, he just might be strong enough.

He got the feeling he'd have to face a lot worse than Cupid's teasing, if he did that.

"It's not a big deal," he said, barely more than a whisper. He got the feeling the words would be more convincing if he believed them himself.

"How long have you been lying?"

Nico felt old as he straightened, his fingers tight around the scepter. It was gray, almost as tall as he was; unremarkable, after all they'd gone through to get it.

"I was born gay in the 1940s," he said, fighting to keep the bitterness from his words. "What do you think?"

"Why me?"

He was kidding, right? Nico shot him an incredulous look before realizing that, in fact, Jason was not kidding. He looked absolutely baffled.

Dammit.

"You were the first demigod I'd ever met," Nico told him, eyes on Diocletian's scepter because he was embarrassed enough without having to witness Jason's reaction. "So, at first, I told myself that was why. You were the first guy I got close to, without Bianca yanking me away." He'd never been able to figure out how much Bianca knew, but she'd tried to protect him. That much was obvious. "It helped that you were big, and strong, and gorgeous. Who wouldn't hero worship you?"

He shifted the staff in his hands, testing its weight. His cheeks were burning. "That lasted, oh, a few months," he said. "Then I thought, psychology. Wanting what I couldn't have. If there was anything I couldn't have, it was you. Even if--when--you turned up alive."

His gaze was pulled to Jason, like he could sense the guy was looking at him; and Jason was, his ice blue eyes calm. There was no trace of horror or revulsion in his face. It didn't matter that it had been four years and two camps ago; Jason still looked at Nico like he did the day they met. Like there was nothing Nico could do to drive him away.

It flustered Nico.

"I--I can't explain it," he stammered, nearly dropping the scepter. "I can give you a thousand reasons, but none of them are enough. It's just you, and it always has been. It was always you."

He took a deep breath, straightening. "But don't worry. You don't have to--I mean, I know you're straight. And you don't think of me that way. I'll get over it, I swear, I just--"

"I'm not going anywhere," Jason interrupted.

Nico stopped talking, perplexed. "Sorry?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Jason repeated, rubbing his neck and rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the last of Cupid's hold. "You're my friend, Nico, and nothing we've been through has changed that. So whatever you were about to say--that you're going to leave the ship, that you won't visit camp again, that you'll go back to pretending your feelings don't exist--I don't want to hear it."

The words tore through Nico like knives. Did Jason even realize what he was saying?

"Maybe I don't want to be your friend," he responded hotly, his face prickling with humiliation. "Did you think of that? That maybe it'll be too hard for me to hang around, knowing that you know the truth?"

"Maybe you should give it a chance, first," Jason fired back. "Maybe you should give me a chance!"

Nico pointed the staff at him. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I meant it," Jason snapped. "First you hit me with this declaration, out of nowhere, and then you don't even give me time to respond! Don't assume you know how I feel."

"Then, what?" Nico taunted. "You're actually in love with me? You?"

Jason's neck was scarlet, blotchy; his whole face flushed, leaving his scars to stand out like icy fissures on his skin. "Cupid's right. All you ever do is run away when things get tough."

Nico dropped the staff, strode forwards, and slapped him. It felt good. "You aren't perfect!" he shouted, letting his rage get the better of him. "What was all that crap about not knowing who you love, or what camp you belong in? If I stuck around and waited for you to make up your mind, it sounds like I'd be in limbo forever!"

Jason grabbed his shoulders and shoved him away. "I'm afraid of making the wrong decision," he snapped.

"You don't have to worry," Nico retorted. "I already made this choice for you."

"That's not-"

"If you want me to listen to anything else you have to say then you're going to have to kiss me."

His words rang in the courtyard. He went back to wishing he could melt.

"What?" Jason asked, not like he hadn't heard, but like he couldn't believe what he'd heard.

"I like you," Nico growled. "You really want me to believe there's a chance you like me back? You have to kiss me."

Jason swallowed.

Nico spread his hands wide, feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction. "What? I'm giving you that chance you wanted," he taunted. "Are you tell me now that it's impossible?"

"Nico, I can't--"

"I know you can't." Nico bent down to pick up the staff again. "That's why I said it."

Jason bristled.

Nico seized the back of the demigod's shirt and shadow-traveled them the heck out of there. They'd gotten what they came for, but he still felt like they'd lost.

Chapter Text

Over course of the last five days, Jason had decided he'd never dream about vacationing south of the Equator again.

It was hot. It was too hot--Jason was used to the natural chill in the air, the bite against his skin that reminded him he was alive. When he launched into the air here, in the South Wind's court, it stayed balmy no matter how high he climbed. The others were loving it, but Jason just wanted to go back to Croatia, where the air was normal.

His hair had been bleached nearly white, while his skin had darkened at least four shades. Piper regularly teased him about looking like an anime character. She was talking to him again. Jason didn't know--or care--why. He was just glad to have his best friend back.

Meanwhile, Nico was back to avoiding him. He stayed locked in his room, or stranded up in the crow's nest. He'd venture down for meals, but not often. He talked to Hazel, and occasionally Frank, but that was it. He didn't give Jason a second to redeem himself, not that Jason knew how to do that in the first place.

Nico didn't want to be saved, that much was clear. He preferred to wallow, and Jason had enough emotional issues on his plate to worry about what was heaped on Nico's. It didn't help that most days he felt as divided as the South Wind's drastically different personalities.

The schism had hit the god hard. Depending on the day, Jason was faced with a raging, willful monarch (Notus, the god's Greek aspect) or a laid-back, scatterbrained emperor (Auster, his Roman side). Both had proved useless, but without the South Wind's help, the Argo II wouldn't sail again.

The problem was, the god had a habit of reversing decisions he'd made as his other self, and while Notus wanted Jason to get the hell out of his court, Auster wanted him to hang out forever, eating Doritos and chatting about weather fronts.

A good portion of Jason's emotional crisis had to be from adjusting to the South Wind's personalities day in and day out. Constantly going from holding screaming matches in the throne room to playing Tic Tac Toe on the floor was taking its toll. Anyone would feel like they were losing their mind. Jason would have been happy to take turns with his shipmates, but the one thing Notus and Auster agreed on was that they'd talk to Jason alone.

None of this would have happened if Leo hadn't been swept from the ship. Losing their mechanic was a huge blow. Jason was sick to death, worrying about what happened to his friend and what he could have done differently. They'd lost three of their questers already--hopefully not forever, but the outlook was grim.

From where he was standing on a balcony in the South Wind's palace, he could clearly see the ocean and the coast warring for control over the thin line of foam that separated them. The line stretched to eternity, beyond the crimson and orange of the perpetual sunset. They were somewhere on the southern coast of Africa, but as with Boreas's palace in the North Pole and the Underworld below the Hollywood sign in L.A., they'd left the mortal world behind a long time ago. Jason wondered if they'd ever make their way back.

Down at the dock, his friends were trying to repair the ship. Festus was trying to help. The operative word in both thoughts was "trying". If it was possible for the Argo II to be repaired by their unskilled hands, it would be fixed already.

The scuff of a sneaker against the marble floor alerted Jason to Nico's presence. He knew it was Nico, because the temperature around them dropped by at least ten degrees. Normally, that would have skeeved Jason out, but he welcomed the relief from the heat and humidity.

Nico had changed for the better since receiving the staff. Either it was the influence of the magical object, or the relief of facing his feelings, but he looked stronger. He'd gotten taller, or maybe he just stood straighter. The sun hadn't totally removed the pallid tinge to his skin, but it was closer to olive than paper, and that was reassuring. He'd put on weight.

"I feel Percy and Annabeth near the Doors," he said, without a hello. "We need to leave. Not tomorrow, not even this afternoon, now. If we don't, we'll lose them."

His tone clearly stated that wasn't an option he was going to accept.

"I know," Jason said. "I'm trying."

'Trying isn't good enough."

"Put yourself in my shoes for a moment," Jason ordered, and turned.

Nico leaned against the balcony doors, arms folded over his chest. The scepter was casually slung over his back in some kind of leather holster, and his long, messy hair was pinned back from his face. He didn't look impressed by Jason's outburst.

"What do you want me to do, attack him?" Jason went on. "He's a god, and he's not even all there! I've tried everything--reasoning, bargaining, even shouting--"

"How about being honest?" Nico interrupted, pushing away from the doors. He strode up to Jason, invading his personal space and staring him down with those expressionless eyes. It was like he'd expended all his self-consciousness back in Croatia, and now all that was left was his frustration. "Don't try to manipulate him, just talk. It makes me sick to see you acting like something you're not."

His words had unintentional significance. Jason stepped backwards, and ran into the railing.

Nico ignored this. "If you can't get the South Wind to help us, then I'm going to get us to the Doors of Death myself," he declared.

"You can't shadow-travel that many," Jason said, aghast.

"I'll do whatever the Hades I want to," Nico said. "We're running out of time, Jason."

"I know that," Jason said grimly, clenching his fists around the railing. "But I'm not going to risk your life--"

"No worries," Nico snapped. "It's my choice. Not yours."

"Your choices affect me," Jason shot back, his face twisting in a scowl. It was like they were reenacting their argument in the ruins.

"I don't need you to pretend to care about me."

"I'll hit you again," Jason threatened.

Nico reached back, hand closing around the staff. "Try it," he challenged. "Ten drachmae says you end up on your ass."

A venti interrupted them.

"Lord Auster will see you, now."

Jason bit back a groan. The god was Roman today--that meant another afternoon of board games and tangents.

Nico gave him a thin smile, like he knew exactly how much Jason dreaded the coming hours. He stepped aside so Jason could venture into the palace.

Jason couldn't wait to leave.

Nico's emotions were . . . mixed.

That was actually an improvement, since he'd previously vacillated between despondence and anger without any middle ground between the two. Now, he was capable of feeling both at once.

What joy.

He'd also suffered fits of nostalgia, a few nights of grief, and then--on the dawn of the third day, like the completion of some bizarre torture ritual--resignation, which was a breath of fresh air. He'd finally accepted that there was nothing left to worry about, no more potential stress on his horizon. Whatever happened next, it would be nothing compared to the atom bomb Cupid had forced him to drop.

Africa was beautiful. He hated it. He missed Percy, which was a first. He wanted to tell Percy he'd been right, and apologize for being a little shit. Life would have been a lot easier if he'd just accepted what Percy said in the first place.

But holding on to stuff was kind of his thing. His fatal flaw, or whatever Annabeth called it. She liked to put everything in boxes. Life was neat, that way. Explainable.

Nico's life was so beyond explainable, he doubted there were enough boxes in the world to fix it. Everyone he was close to had been dead, or presumed dead, at some point. Memory loss was par for the course. And then there was Jason.

Jason was level-headed. Unruffled. He gave Nico long, inscrutable looks and bitched, relentlessly, about having to babysit a wind god. He seemed totally oblivious to the crap the rest of them were going through. Or maybe he was just taking a page from Nico's book and letting them all deal with their own issues for once.

"You're expecting him to be something he's not," Piper said. Piper didn't talk to him, ever, so Nico was startled to hear her address him. He assumed she was talking to someone else, until he noticed they were the only ones on deck.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and added, "If you think he'll save you, or whatever, you should know better. Jason only saves people he thinks need his help--and you're strong. You don't."

He gave her a wary look. She didn't have anything to do with Cupid, of course, but he was sick of Aphrodite's children meddling in his life. If she tried, he was seriously considering throwing her over the side of the ship. She'd live. Frank would catch her.

"Just hold on a little longer," she said, and turned away to stroke Festus's head. The dragon had bent back over the deck to greet her. Nico tried not to find that disturbing.

Something slammed into the ship, rocking it violently, and he nearly lost his balance.

Jason's voice shouted, "Get below!"

Seconds later, a wave of hot air hit them. Nico felt like he'd just stuck his hand too far in an oven--the heat blazed over him with the same intensity.

He stumbled towards Piper, who'd fallen, and helped her to her feet. They tore below decks, a noise like the crackling of a thousand fires making conversation impossible. Hazel was already below, eyes wide--she grabbed Nico's arm and he understood, without needing to talk, that Frank was still outside.

Before Nico had to do something stupid like venture back on deck to look for his sister's idiot boyfriend, the big guy tumbled down behind them, bypassing the ladder in favor of crashing to the floor like a small, clumsy elephant. Hazel tackled him with a hug, and Nico breathed a sigh of relief. He only had so many idiotic acts of heroism in him per week, and he was already almost at his quota.

He swayed. The ship was moving.

Piper mouthed, What's happening?, like he knew any more than she did.

When he shook his head, she scowled and mounted the ladder, obviously intending to investigate for herself. She didn't get far. The winds above deck were vicious; he could tell by the way she winced and nearly lost her balance. He dragged her back down and closed the hatch, blocking out the worst of the noise.

"What was that?" Hazel gasped. "Did you see anything?"

"Jason was--" Piper gulped. "I don't know. Riding the winds. Or steering the ship with the winds, I . . . gods, I don't know. I've never seen anything like it before."

"He usually knows what he's doing," Nico said, pulling an ambrosia square from his pocket and unwrapping it. "I'm sure it's fine. You're blistering, by the way."

She accepted the medicine and ate in small bites, like she was holding herself back from tearing into it. "I guess we just have to trust him."

Hazel wrapped both arms around Frank's neck. "I think I'm going to be sick," she said faintly.

"So you hang on to me?" the big guy joked, easily lifting her off her feet. "You're a piece of work, Miss Levesque."

She pressed her face into his neck, and Nico glanced away, uncomfortable. As Hazel's older brother, he felt he ought to be sterner about the PDA, but she and Frank were a cute couple and he was weak against that. Plus, children of Pluto were so rarely happy and he didn't want to be the one to spoil that.

"Well, c'mon, princess," Frank said, starting down the corridor. "Guess we've got a hot date in the bathroom."

"Gods, Frank--"

Piper giggled as the pair disappeared. "They're so adorable. I'm jealous. Not that my life revolves around romance," she was quick to add, "but . . . it'd be nice to find someone. Don't you think?"

She was asking him?

"Do you realize who you're talking to?" he asked, incredulous.

"Okay, so you have a little bad luck," she said, rolling her eyes. "No need to be melodramatic."

Her tone was so oblivious, he realized Jason hadn't told her. And if Jason hadn't told her, then he hadn't told anyone. He'd kept what happened in Croatia a secret--like it didn't matter to him at all. Like it was just a blip on his radar.

Hot knives stabbed at Nico's stomach; he wasn't sure if he was angry, hurt, or a combination of both, but the feeling was intense.

"I'm in love with Jason," he snapped, intending his words to hit her like pelting stones. They did, judging by the way she flinched. Her eyebrows knit together. "Don't worry," Nico said sarcastically. "He doesn't feel the same."

"I'm sorry, I--"

"Didn't know," he cut her off. "I know. That's because he didn't care enough to--" He broke off. What the actual hell was he saying? What did it matter, especially to Piper McLean, of all people? They both knew who Jason was supposed to be with. They both knew which camp he'd choose.

He turned of his heel and stalked off. Cupid's taunt followed him--do you intend to hide in the shadows forever?

"I'm not hiding," he muttered, to no one.

But deep down he knew, every time he repeated that pattern; taking out his temper on other people; he was. He might not be lying any more, but he was still hiding behind his anger. Using it as an excuse to not face the fact that he was heartbroken.

He didn't want to find "someone". He wanted to find "Jason", and that hadn't changed, even with the guy standing right in front of him. He wanted Jason.

Badly.

Chapter Text

"What happened?"

Nico was the first to climb on deck, after the ship stopped moving. Jason was at the bow, by Festus's now-useless control panel, looking at his arms. The storm spirits had burned him pretty severely. They hadn't liked his handling. He couldn't say he blamed them.

"I talked with Auster," he said, without turning around. The encounter was still fresh in his mind, but the words spilling out felt old, cliche. Like he'd said them before. "He wanted me to choose between Greek and Roman."

"And?" Nico was closer, though Jason hadn't heard him move.

"I couldn't," Jason said. "I was honest with him, like you said."

Nico made a surprised noise.

"I told him how jealous I was of you," Jason went on. He knew why the words sounded so worn--he was speaking what he'd been thinking for months, all the thoughts he'd turned around in his head and tried to deny. "You're free. You aren't tied to either camp. I wanted that. I want something that's mine, not Thalia's or Percy's or Reyna's or Greek or Roman."

He was babbling. He forced himself to change course, as he'd forced the winds to do what he wanted.

"I've never had that," he said. "And I've never admitted out loud that I've wanted it. I was too scared that I'd hurt my friends . . . that I'd lose them because they'd think I wanted to leave them."

Nico stepped closer, at Jason's shoulder now. His gaze brushed over Jason like velvet, and for once Jason didn't feel like the other boy was judging him.

"I'm still scared," Jason said. "For as far back as I can remember, I've only done what everyone else wanted. I've never done anything for me."

Nico was listening to him; listening in a way Jason wasn't used to. He was just accepting everything Jason had to say without comment, without the slightest change in his face. His presence was calming, after the roar of the venti.

"What if I lose everything? What if I can't make them understand?" Nico murmured. "What if I lose my sister, my friends, my place in both worlds?" He caught Jason's gaze, held it. "What if the person I love rejects me?"

Nico, like Jason, sounded as though he'd had these thoughts for a long time. Relief washed over Jason--Nico understood. Here was one person, at least, who understood.

"What if I'm making the wrong decision?" Jason said quietly.

"What if I'll never belong anywhere?" Nico countered.

Jason caught his elbow. "What if Nico leaves me again?"

"I never left," Nico said at once. "You left. That should be my fear."

"I was taken," Jason said.

"It wouldn't have been different if you'd stayed," Nico said. Always the pessimist.

"It would have," Jason said. He was certain.

He kissed Nico. He hadn't been given permission--he wasn't even sure Nico still felt the same way--but if he didn't do it now, he never would.

Nico's breath caught. He grabbed Jason's shirt in his fist.

Jason put his hand on Nico's hip, pressing their lips more firmly together. When he drew back, Nico was seething. He wrenched out of Jason's grip with an audible hiss.

"What the heck was that?" he snapped.

"You said if I wanted you to listen to me," Jason said mildly, unsurprised by Nico's reaction, "I'd have to kiss you."

"You--" Nico stuttered. Jason cupped his cheek, not intending to let him say more.

Piper poked her head up from belowdecks. "Is it safe to come out?" she asked, even though it obviously was. Knowing Piper, she wasn't talking about the weather.

Jason and Nico jumped apart like she'd just tossed burning coals at them.

"It's safe," Jason said, but his words were meant for Nico.

Judging by the way Nico's face went scarlet, he understood perfectly.

"Good." Piper climbed up, caught sight of Jason's arms, and let out an indignant squawk. "For the love of the gods, you two--Jason, you need ambrosia."

Jason eyed his arms. They weren't hurting any more. That was probably a bad sign, given the blisters all over them.

"Go below," she ordered, stalking over and standing on her toes to smack him upside the head. "Gods, you suck. It's all well and good to save the day, but don't kill yourself doing it." She fixed her glare on Nico. "And you--don't encourage him."

"I wasn't encouraging anything," Nico muttered, and shot Jason an incriminating look. "It was all him."

Piper was unconvinced.

"You go, too," she ordered. "Hazel's still sick and Frank's useless. Make it better."

Nico's eyes widened, like he couldn't believe she was bossing him around, but he slunk off to the hatch anyway, all bark and no bite.

"I'm leaving," Jason blurted out, before he lost his nerve. "Not now. After the quest. I have to find--no." He corrected the statement. "I have to make a place."

"Make?" she echoed. Her eyes, amber in the morning sunlight, were impossible to read.

"A home," he explained. "I have to make a place to call home. I don't belong in either camp, Pipes. Maybe I never have."

"Oh." She paused, taking that in. "Isn't that what you were trying to tell me, before we left for Camp Jupiter? You know, when you clumsily rejected my offer of girlfriendship?"

That was so Piper. He had to travel halfway around the world to figure out something she'd known at the beginning.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I just didn't know that was what I wanted to say."

She snorted. "Next you'll be telling me you just realized you're bi."

"I'm bi?"

"Oh my gods, Jason." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Go to the infirmary. Get some ambrosia. And then bring the others up so we can figure out where the heck we are and what we're doing next."

"Oh, that part's easy," he said, putting the other issue aside for the moment. "We're in Malta. We're picking up Leo, and then we're going to the Doors of Death."

His certainty shook her, if her reaction was any indication. She ran to the rail, half-leaning over it to confirm his words.

"It is Malta," she agreed. "Wow." She glanced over her shoulder in approval. "You're finally doing something right, Fearless Leader."

He pretended that didn't sting.

When he ventured below, Nico was waiting in the infirmary.

"I want you to kiss me," he said frankly, though his ears were scarlet. "But you don't get to until you know it's what you really want."

"Aren't you setting the bar a little high?" Jason asked. "A few weeks ago, I didn't even know who I was."

"I am the bar," Nico said, which was kind of what Jason had known all along. "Understanding someone isn't the same as loving them, Jason."

"I know that."

"I don't think you do." Nico tossed him an ambrosia square. "You know the thing about only doing what other people want? You never have to work for anything." His mouth twisted into a joyless smile. "Jason Grace, everyone's Golden Boy. Everything handed to you on a plate."

It felt like Nico was looking down on him.

"You don't get me on a plate," Nico said. "If you even want me to begin with. That's all I wanted to say."

He left, which was good. Jason didn't know what he would have said or done in response.

Judging by the thudding of his heart, nothing good.

Nico checked the ropes securing the Athena Parthenos for the thousandth time. He was going to kick himself if he lost it in a shadow jump. The crux of the whole war rested on Athena's stone, bitchy face making it back to Camp Half-Blood in one piece.

He was nervous about making this journey with Reyna, a complete stranger, and Coach Hedge, a complete nut job. He was worried he'd end up making his already terrible reputation worse. He was afraid, most of all, of having to face Jason when he came back.

"I still say this is a terrible idea," Percy said. He folded his arms over his borrowed t-shirt, obscuring the happy kitten on the front. He'd been vocal about his disapproval from the beginning. Nico hadn't realized until this quest how much Percy thought of him as a little brother. "You're going to get yourself vaporized. Vaporized is worse than killed, you know."

Nico cinched the last knot. "Thanks for the concern, Perce."

"You know I hate it when you call me that."

"That is exactly why I call you that."

Percy seized his shoulder, turning Nico to face him. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

Nico tried to keep a straight face. "Don't you think that's a little hypocritical, Mr. Jumped-Into-Tartarus-On-A-Whim?"

Percy scowled, obviously not realizing he was being teased. "I had to help Annabeth. I wasn't thinking of anything else."

"I know that, you raging dork," Nico said, and shook the older boy off. "Think of this as my jump into Tartarus."

"I'm confused."

"I know," Nico sighed.

Percy thought about it for a minute, then did what he always did when something confused him; stopped thinking about it. Nico kind of liked that about the guy. It had to be easier to deal with problems when you could just forget about them.

"Thank you," Percy finally said. "You saved our lives in Tartarus."

Nico frowned. "I wasn't in Tartarus. Not at the same time as you."

"Bob," Percy said, and Nico understood.

He leaned against the statue. "Don't make out like I did something wonderful," he said, before Percy could say another word. "I was down there looking for Jason."

Percy was unsurprised.

"Because, you were right," Nico said, unable to stop his lip from curling a little. The admission was sour on his tongue. "I've got it bad for him. Always have." He shook his head, still a little disgusted with himself. "You know, sometimes I wish it was you."

"What?" That, Percy was surprised to hear.

"Yeah, some days I wish I'd been rescued by you instead," Nico said, almost savagely. He could picture it in his mind's eye; Percy standing over him, Riptide flashing. He'd look dashing and heroic, because he'd be the first real-life hero Nico had ever seen. Nico wouldn't notice that Percy was more preoccupied with Annabeth than him; he wouldn't see that his crush was hopeless before it began. He wouldn't pick up on the fact that Percy could be a real asshole sometimes.

"Because, you're an idiot," he went on, "and you wouldn't notice my feelings if they were directed at you. You definitely wouldn't befriend me. So I'd pine for years, and maybe throw a temper tantrum or two, and then I'd get over it. I'd realize you aren't as perfect as I thought. And then I'd be fine."

"Wow," Percy said. "That was . . . very insulting. Are you saying Jason is perfect and you can't get over him?"

"He's not perfect," Nico said. He scratched his chin, trying to explain something he didn't full grasp himself. "But . . . you and me, we'd never work."

"I'd hope not. You're like family," Percy said, his nose wrinkling. "And Bianca would definitely come back to haunt me if I started going out with you."

"She's reincarnated," Nico said, absently forgetting he hadn't gotten the chance to tell Percy yet.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Percy touched his heart in an unexpectedly sweet gesture. Sometimes, Nico forgot that Percy and Bianca had been pretty good friends.

"Don't be. She's happy." Nico rocked back on his heels, thinking. "Jason's too nice," he finally said. "If it were you, and you found out I had a crush on you, you'd be all awkward and then I'd get angry and we'd fight and maybe not talk for a few months. But then I'd be able to get over it. Jason's too nice to make things awkward."

"He gives you hope," Percy said, in one of his rare moments of perception. "Yeah. I can see that."

"So I have to leave," Nico said, gesturing to the statue. "I need distance. Time. I have to get my head on straight."

Percy frowned. "One thing, though."

"Yeah?"

"Don't stab me," Percy said, and a stone dropped in Nico's stomach. Percy never prefaced his observations with that unless he knew for sure he was about to start something. "But maybe he's giving you hope because there is some?"

Nico spotted the others coming to say goodbye. He was grateful.

"I can't live like that," he told Percy flatly.

Percy glanced over his shoulder, saw their friends coming, and seized Nico's collar. "Don't give up so easily," he hissed in Nico's ear. "Rome wasn't built in a day."

The others reached them just as Nico slapped Percy.

"What did he say?" Annabeth asked at once. She narrowed her gray eyes at her boyfriend, clearly ready to rip him a new one. It was reassuring to think that some things would never change. Nico almost smiled.

Percy rubbed his cheek. For a moment, Nico thought her was going to tell the truth. Then his face broke into a smirk, and he said, "I just suggested that Fall Out Boy's new sound is better than their old albums."

Leo sniggered, and Jason socked him in the arm. Reyna pushed forwards, her steely eyes squarely on him. Her serious face brought them all back to earth at once.

This was going to be . . . interesting.

Nico grabbed one of the ropes tied around the Athena Parthenos. "Any last words?" he asked his audience. He wasn't sure how to go about this leaving thing; for someone who spent his whole life slipping into the shadows, he wasn't used to doing it while people were watching.

"Don't die," Piper said, and surprised him by kissing him on the cheek. Hazel followed, and Nico squirmed.

"We'll meet you at camp," Jason said, getting--and keeping--Nico's attention. The others might as well have been part of the scenery. "And, just so you know, if you overdo it and die, I'm coming down to the Underworld to kick your ass. I don't care what Hades has to say about it."

"Everyone's going on about death, death, death," Nico grumbled. "I'm getting sick of it, and death's kind of my thing." He held Jason's gaze for as long as he could bear. "No one's dying. Everything's going to be okay."

Recognition flitted over Jason's face. "That's my line," he remembered.

Nico yanked himself, Reyna, Hedge, and the statue into the shadows. If he waited another moment, he wasn't going to go.

Chapter Text

It was over in a blink.

While it was happening, it felt like a long ordeal, but after the quest was over, Jason was shocked by how quickly everything went back to normal. The demigods were far too used to cleaning up after wars.

"Feels like we were just doing this," Percy cracked, helping some Demeter kids haul debris from the wrecked dining pavilion. "All I need is for Annabeth to come along with some design plans and--"

Whack.

Annabeth had come along with some design plans and whacked him on the head, scolding, "Have a little reverence. Kids just died, you know."

Jason smirked, and wandered away before they could start bickering.

He hadn't seen Piper much in the last few days. She'd clung to him, crying, after Leo died--well, to be more precise, they'd clung to each other. Jason hadn't been able to keep himself from sobbing, regardless of how that made him look to the camps. And after they were done falling apart, the girl who was more than his friend, less than his girlfriend, and nothing he'd ever be able to pin down in a few simple words, stood up, wiped her eyes, and said, "Right. Enough of that."

She'd been busy ever since: training her cabinmates in the sword styles she'd learned from Hazel, roaming the camp with Annabeth, discussing renovation plans, hanging out with Percy and flirting with the naiads by the lake, always moving. Just . . . always moving.

Jason was distinctly shut out. Nico had been right. He was used to being handed things on a platter, and he'd never had to try to maintain a friendship before. With Piper, he was going to have to fight an uphill battle or else lose her--something he refused to let happen.

It was a new feeling for him. He liked it.

He knocked on the door of the Hades cabin three days after the war ended. It was just after dawn, but Jason hadn't slept the night before so it didn't mean much. To him, anyway.

Nico greeted him with a grumpy look on his face and some serious bedhead. His expression clearly stated Jason was more unwelcome than another ancient evil deciding to wake up from its nap and take over the world.

"You're not Will Solace," he stated.

Jason was taken aback. "I--uh, no. Who's Will Solace?"

"The guy I've decided to have a crush on instead of you." Nico didn't invite Jason inside the cabin. That was okay; the Hades bunks scared Jason half to death.

"Does it work that way?" he asked, dumbfounded.

Nico didn't answer, just stepped out onto the small, obsidian platform that served as the cabin's front porch. His feet were bare. He wore a toe ring, which was both cute and the gayest thing Jason had ever seen.

He forced his eyes upwards, past Nico's Darth Vader pajama pants and the slight curve of his stomach under his gray t-shirt. Nico had gained more weight. That was good. He looked less like a child vampire and more like a normal, if slightly dark, fourteen-year-old-demigod.

"I'm sorry," Nico said, and Jason's heart fluttered. But he didn't say anything close to what Jason thought he would. "Leo's definitely gone. I know what you want to hear, Jay, but I can't say it."

Jason blinked. The sadness he felt hearing Leo's name made him want to curl up in a ball on the porch. Nico would probably kick him, though.

"If I've learned anything by now," he said instead, "it's that two things in our lives are very uncertain--our memories, and our loved ones staying dead."

Nico actually laughed. It made him look years younger; it made him look his age. "You might have a point," he agreed, and then sobered up. "But everything has a balance. A life for a life. Remember that."

Jason hooked his fingers through the belt loops of his jeans. "I will."

Pause.

"So," Jason cleared his throat. "Will Solace."

Nico nodded. "He's a healer. Good with his hands."

Jason made a properly appreciative noise in the back of his throat. "He's the Apollo counselor, right?"

"Right. Nice guy," Nico said. "Straightforward. Gay."

"That helps," Jason said. He felt weird and awkward and shy and three kinds of uncomfortable, but he didn't know how to broach the elephant on the porch.

"I'm over you," Nico said flatly, as if he sensed Jason's dilemma. "No offense. You aren't my type."

"But Will's your type?" Jason should have quit while he was ahead, but he had his moments of stupidity and this was one of them.

"Mmm." Nico nodded.

"Tall. Blond. Blue eyes?" Jason wasn't sure about the last part.

"Blue eyes," Nico agreed.

Jason pointed to himself. "I don't see the difference. You're such a liar."

Nico smirked. "You wear glasses. Besides, what's it to you?"

"Maybe I care," Jason blurted out. "Maybe I don't want you dating Will Solace."

"Who said anything about dating? I'm still in the crush stage," Nico said. "Besides, it's none of your business. You missed your chance."

"You never gave me a chance," Jason accused. As always, Nico had run before Jason could do anything. "Unless you mean, when I was eleven. Or amnesiac. Or currently trying to recalibrate my world around the fact that someone I thought low-key hated me actually has a crush on me."

"Are you saying that would have changed anything?" Nico challenged. He crossed his arms.

"I don't know," Jason admitted. "But I was in the middle of--"

"You're always going to be 'in the middle of' something," Nico cut him off. "Like right now. You're about to go off on some quest to find yourself, right?"

"To find ancient gods," Jason corrected, thinking back to his promise to Percy's godly sister. "Percy made sure all demigods had a place to belong. I want to do the same for the gods. And yeah, I guess I'm hoping I figure out where I belong in the process." He shrugged. "So?"

"Sooooo," Nico dragged out the word, "what? You think I'm gonna wait for you to get your head screwed on straight?"

"I was hoping you'd come with me, actually." Jason toed the stone under his feet. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt bashful. He hadn't known it was an emotion he was capable of. "Crazy, I know. But you have more experience in the outside world than anyone else, and I couldn't convince Thalia to leave the Hunters."

"So I come in second to your sister," Nico noted.

"I'm second to yours," Jason pointed out.

"Third," Nico corrected. "Fourth, if the thing with Will works out."

"I don't want the thing with Will to work out," Jason said.

"That's selfish," Nico said.

"New thing I'm trying," Jason told him. "Besides, I think Will will get over it."

"What about me?" Nico put his hands on his hips. "Exactly what do you think of me, Grace? I'm just going to drop everything and ride off into the sunset with you? Why?"

"Because you're in love with me," Jason said, and Nico slapped him.

It was deserved, so Jason didn't throw him into next Tuesday. He cupped his cheek and continued, because he was apparently a glutton for punishment. "And you're the strongest demigod I know, and I'd rather have you at my back than causing trouble at camp, and I've liked you since way back, too, so it isn't fair that you get the monopoly on angsty gay love and it definitely isn't fair that Will Solace gets you because I saw you first."

"You sound like a little kid," Nico accused, but his cheeks were pink. "That's a horrible way to ask someone out. If that's what you're doing."

"You said," Jason said, "I could kiss you if I was sure that it was what I wanted. And it is."

"Based on what, exactly?"

"You were the first person to see me as someone other than Thalia's kid brother," Jason said. "You thought I was a hero even when no one else did. And it's like you said, I have a thousand reasons but none of them are totally it. It's just you. It was always you."

Nico gave him an unreadable look. "That's all? That's your grand romantic speech?"

"For the love of Zeus, what more do you want?" Jason demanded.

"You still haven't even said it, you freakin' moron," Nico snapped. He looked at Jason like he was expecting something.

A heartbeat passed. Then the penny dropped.

Jason groaned. "Ugh, obviously I love you," he said.

Nico sank onto the front step of the Hades cabin, shaking his head. At first, Jason thought he was overwhelmed with anger--then he realized Nico was chuckling.

"I'm supposed to be over you," he said, gazing up at Jason. His expression was as cryptic as ever, but his eyes were warm. He was even smiling.

"I'm not going to let that happen," Jason informed him. "Sorry. I decided I want you after all. Are we done with the questions?"

"We're done," Nico said, and Jason crouched next to him.

"Good," he said. "Because I want to kiss you."

"I'll think about it," Nico hedged.

Jason shoved him off the step, and he tumbled ass over teakettle into the grass.

"You're dead, Grace!" he yelped.

"Nope," Jason said, grinning. "I'm perfectly alive."

Nico sat bolt upright, his own smile replaced with an impressive glare. "That wasn't funny."

Jason leaned forward before the other guy could back away, and kissed him square on the mouth. Nico's bottom lip was chapped. It scraped pleasantly against Jason's, doing nothing to dim the heat of their contact.

Lightning raced through Jason's body from the spot they connected; literally, he found, when he looked down to find his hands were sparking. He clenched his fists, squashing the tiny bolts.

"Fine," Nico said.

"I already kissed you, it's too late for permission," Jason said.

"No," Nico sighed. "Fine, I'll go with you. Provided we come back to both camps to visit. Reyna made me promise we'd go to her favorite deli, and I don't want to make her angry."

"Good move," Jason said, and then it hit him. "Wait. You're coming with me?"

"That's what I just--"

Jason whooped, scrambling to his feet. "Nico, that's fantastic!"

"Why are you so happy?" Nico asked, mystified.

Jason hauled him up. "I didn't think you'd say yes!" he exclaimed. "But this is awesome--we're going to go on a road trip and fight monsters and maybe hijack a couple cars and see a bunch of old ruins and

"Don't make me change my mind," Nico grumbled.

Jason engulfed him in a bear hug, lifting him off the ground. "I'm happy because I'll get to spend so much time with you!"

Nico didn't say anything, but when Jason set him back down and stepped away, his whole face was scarlet.

Jason and Nico packed up the dusty gray car. Neither of them had a license, but that was okay, because Nico had a zombie chauffeur. Jules-Albert was a compromise: Jason wouldn't shadow-travel, and Nico refused to fly.

Their friends acted like they were leaving forever, despite both of their promises that they'd be back before the fall term started at school. Chiron had enrolled them in a quiet school in upstate New York; a private academy that didn't ask a lot of questions or expect its students to do terribly well. School was going to be new for Nico, but he wasn't nervous. He was actually looking forward to it. It had been a long time since his biggest problem was the class bully.

In the meantime, it was late summer and Jason had developed a fondness for shirts without sleeves. The horizon was hazy, but the road was clear and inviting. The sky was the same color as Jason's eyes.

"Champion of the forgotten," Hazel said as she saw them off. Her face crinkled in a huge smile and she took both of Nico's hands, squeezing them tightly. "I'll miss you, brother. But I'm proud of you."

Her words reminded him of Cupid, and the god's promise that he wasn't done with Nico. He pushed the thought away. It would be okay. Probably.

"Me?" he asked. "You're the one who won a war, Centurion."

Her cheeks pinked. "I had help."

"We heading out, or what?" Jason called. He'd thrown the rest of their bags in the back, and was leaning on the truck, waiting. His grin had refused to leave his face since yesterday, when a scroll from Leo had fluttered in on the wind, assuring them he was "baaaaaack, bitches!". He looked like an idiot.

He looked like Nico's idiot.

Nico kissed his sister's forehead and slipped his hands out of hers. "I'll IM," he promised.

"You'd better," she said. "See you in a few weeks?"

"See you then," he agreed. He didn't know where they were going. He didn't know how Leo was alive. He didn't even know if he belonged at Jason's side for the long run; but he belonged for now, and that was enough.

He reached out his hand for Jason, and the son of Jupiter took it without hesitation.

"Ready for an adventure?" Jason asked, like he didn't know the answer already.

Nico smiled. "More than."

They drove off into the sunset. It didn't end there, of course. But it was a damn good place to start.