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i.
By now, Kayla should have known to never open the office door without knocking.
In her defense, the door wasn’t exactly closed. It had been open just a bit, faint amber light spilling from the crack like an egg yolk. In search of a lollipop, she entered the room without a second thought. The tinkle of chimes flew through the open window, brought in by a misty breeze. Inside, a familiar scene, one she’d seldom had the pleasure to see. Still, she paused in her steps, a smile splitting on her face as it had every other time before.
Will sat at his desk, wrinkled sheets of paper spread out under his arms, a pen abandoned at his fingertips. In his lap was Nico, face partly obstructed by the fluff of his coat’s collar. He clung to Will’s side like a sloth, the slope of his nose pressed into Will’s neck. They slouched in the velvet chair’s berth, unworried, unbothered. Candlelight flickered on waning stubs, and the flames illuminated their sleeping faces – the lines carved deep from stress had been painted over with serene curves at the edges of their lips - the closest smiles one could have in slumber.
Kayla had seen them like this once or twice, wrapped up like ribbons. The rigid square length of her brother’s shoulders had sunk, as though the weight on them had evaporated. Nico slept with his chest open and wide, vulnerable. He had always seemed like a person bound together, shrinking into himself, wrapping his thin limbs around and around his body, making himself as small as he could. Even in sleep it showed – she had treated him before and found him with his arms crossed over his heart, legs swathed with invisible twine.
In Will’s loose grasp, he unraveled. He seemed smaller, shorter, less menacing. He looked like a boy, not the disheveled, wilted remainder of one.
Kayla smiled, deciding to leave them to their rest. She stuck a lollipop under her lip and stepped out just as the couple began to stir.
Will stretched, a yawn tumbling from his open mouth. He made to rub at his eyelids, but Nico rose from his lap to do it for him with the corner of his wide, fluffy sleeves. “Morning,” he murmured.
“You didn’t have to,” said Will, reaching for Nico’s hand.
“You’re supposed to say, ‘morning’ back. Didn’t anyone teach you proper manners?”
“For this early in the morning?” Will chuckled, though his smile broke into a groan as he popped his back. “Gods, that hurt.”
“Scoliosis at seventeen.” Nico’s tone was droll. “How’s it feel?”
“Wonderful. Me and my boyfriend match now.” He ignored Nico’s indignant glower and reached for the papers on his desk.
“Don’t even think about it, Will.”
“I’m not thinking, I’m doing.” He clicked his pen, but Nico pried it out of his palm and shoved it in a drawer. Will frowned. “It’s just a couple more. I need to finish these.”
“You’ll collapse.”
“Oh, is Nico di Angelo lecturing me on sleep deprivation?”
Nico rolled his eyes, pushing a swath of hair from Will’s forehead. “Sleep. You’ll get through these later, okay?”
Kayla expected Will to argue, to politely decline in the way he always did. But the fight left his face and he sagged into Nico’s shoulders, fatigue puppeting his weary body. “You win this one.”
“About time I did.” Nico lifted the boy up to the waist, settling him gently on the desk. “Get on my back?”
“Piggy-back rides?” Will murmured, a sleepy smile curling at the edge of his lips. “What’ve you become, Lord of Darkness?”
“Don’t you know? Yours.” Laughter spilled from Will, lively even as his body dulled. He managed to climb onto Nico's back, lolling head of curls tucked into the collar of his boyfriend’s puffy jacket. “It’s a terrible change.”
Will brushed a kiss against Nico’s neck. “I kind of like it.”
It was Nico’s turn to laugh, and his was light, airy, less restrained than the quiet chuckles he let out sporadically during campfires or pavilion meals. Kayla doubted she’d ever hear a sound that free come from him again. She hoped not.
She ducked into a shadowy corner by the supply closet as they left the office. Their chatter broke the silence like a splatter of paint to a bleak canvas, and they smeared their rosy colors over everything they passed. They bumped into boxes of ambrosia, salves, countertops. They nearly toppled into unmade beds. Will pressed kiss after kiss onto Nico’s neck, and the son of Hades cursed as his steps grew dizzy and reckless.
They laughed the whole way out.
ii.
The thing was, Nico wasn’t a giggler.
One look at him and you could tell that the sound physically should not have been able to come from his throat. His neutral expression was idle and dazed. He was composed of sharp angles and flat notes. Even when he laughed, it was brief, as though tied back with a leash. Giggles were like bubbles of champagne, spilling over and irrepressible. Nico was, by all accounts, the certified expert on repressing things.
At least, that was what Austin thought. Yet all his musical knowledge couldn’t have prepared him for the giggles that escaped Nico’s mouth during the campfire that evening.
The Apollo cabin was taking the backseat for the Hecate kids, who were enthralling everyone with a horror story. The flames leaped up, charring the stars. Austin had been fiddling with his camp beads, chewing on the remnants of his last s’more for the night, when he’d heard Nico giggle. Not to be mistaken with a snicker or a chuckle or anything that might’ve made sense – he had giggled, half-hidden by a tentative finger to his chocolate-stained lips.
Austin’s brother, Will, sat close to Nico. They both had wobbly grins on their faces. Will was swinging his legs back and forth, kicking up dust. Beneath Nico’s feet, grass blades sank and lost their color. It might have been a confusing sight for anyone else, but they acted like this – whatever this meant – all the time, aside from the abrupt giggle. He shrugged, reached for the package of graham crackers, and pushed all thoughts of it to the back of his mind.
Until, of course, it happened again. There was nothing particularly special about the day, but they were sitting close to each other again, shoulders brushing as they reached for their breakfast plates. Every other bite they would look at the other, every second sip they would wheeze into their drink, causing a flurry of foam to rise. Nico, mouth around his straw, giggled again, and Will glowed , preening as though he had won something.
The third time, Will was only passing by. Austin was helping Nico navigate the internet so he could order replacement keys for the Big House piano, and having a grandly difficult time of it. Will said a single word – Nico! - and the latter had giggled and given him a dramatic wave before returning to puzzle out the computer screen.
“What was that?" Austin asked. He’d stared at Nico for a solid minute until the son of Hades glanced up at him with curious eyes.
“What was what?”
“Y’know.” He made a vague gesture with his hands. “That.”
“If you’re asking about why my screen glitched out and I’m getting a ton of emails, I don’t know either.”
“You - what.” He grabbed the mouse and started clicking. “Oh my gods, Nico.”
“It told me I could get a free bathtub if I signed up for their program.”
“A - a bathtub?” Austin bit out. “Nico, that was obviously a virus.”
Nico scoffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t be stupid. Computers can’t get sick.”
Austin had spent the rest of the day trying to explain twenty-first century technology to an eighty-year old. The giggling phenomenon didn’t come up again until he saw his brother and Nico taking a walk together. They were sparsely talking, commenting briefly when they saw something they liked. Nico would giggle under his breath every few minutes, Will would watch him out of the corner of his eye, say something meaningless, and the process would repeat.
That was when he saw it. Their entwined hands, Will’s fingers tapping a rhythm on Nico’s pale knuckles.
They were ditzy over holding hands – which he found stranger than anything, because they were always so close , practically pressed against each other like an envelope and its seal. Yet a simple, brief touch was enough to give them splitting grins, to tip them over the edge. It was enough to make them talk as though they’d gotten drunk on thin cider and sparkling water. Among the foliage, they looked like flowers blossoming anew: blushing skin and craning necks, reaching for the sky.
He greeted them when they approached the Apollo cabin, and they responded in kind, volume too high and smiles too wide. It reminded Austin of the teenagers he saw at his school, leaning against their lockers and attempting to maintain themselves in any way they could. Their attempts at romance were silly, even a little childish, but genuine.
He thought those two deserved that. Their time spent fighting a gods’ war had made them forget how to be children. They’d put those parts of themselves at an arm’s length and were now approaching them, engulfing them, refusing to let those remaining shreds of their childhood go.
Austin hoped they would never have to. They deserved to trip over themselves, flounder, and help the other up. They deserved the sappy imperfections and the picturesque. He could see them in the faces of any high school student - the ones who gifted each other boxed chocolates, passed crinkled notes in class, ditched prom for fast food escapades.
He could imagine them as the reckless teens he saw careening down barren roads: both riding in some banged up car, Will at the wheel, Nico’s face out the window, wind buffeting their faces as a radio cranked to the max drowned out their voices. Sneakers on the dash, screaming chorus after chorus without giving a damn as to who might hear their laughter.
(They didn’t have that sort of freedom, but every time they held hands, it was a victory.)
iii.
“So,” Reyna began, “how has camp been?”
Nico’s fingers curled around his warm cup. It was routine to get hot chocolate each time he visited, and they’d just exited Reyna’s favorite shop. “It’s been...interesting.”
She arched a regal eyebrow. “Define interesting.”
His head pivoted, so she knew he must have been blushing. “Um. Well...” He tapered off and looked around, as though he were afraid someone was eavesdropping. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I might have a...I’m dating someone.”
Reyna took a casual sip of her cup, letting the silence simmer. His hesitance did not go unnoticed. A month since his last visit, but she was still familiar with all his tells, as he was with hers. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”
“I do,” he insisted, though his response came slow. It fluttered to the ground like the fall leaves around them, delicate and thin. “It’s just embarrassing.”
A smirk, almost invisible. “I think you could do worse.” She paused, eyes glinting conspiratorially. “Neeks.”
He bit out a groan. “Who told you about that?”
“Hazel. She thought it was within my rights to tease you about it.” Reyna threw out her cup in one of the trash cans dotted along New Rome’s cobblestone streets. “Tell me about this embarrassing boyfriend of yours.”
Nico’s expression wavered at boyfriend, as though the word was foreign to his ears. He hid the twist of his lips with the rim of his cup, taking a long drink before putting his head in his hands. “It’s not him – I mean, he is embarrassing. I – no, he’s not embarrassing, he just does and says embarrassing things.”
She blinked at his flurry of hand gestures – he’d become more expressive with them lately, and occasionally mumbled things in Italian (according to one of their centurions, he’d called their Neapolitan pizza shit under his breath, to which she had almost burst out laughing.) She hadn’t seen his blank face since senate meetings, and even then he would crack a smile whenever a lar said anything particularly vapid.
“Ugh,” he grumbled, dipping his chin beneath his coat’s collar. “It’s me. I wanted to ask him out. I wanted to make sure I did it perfectly. I even rehearsed.” Reyna could picture him standing in front of a mirror, practicing his least menacing grin, posture plyboard-stiff. “I ended up asking some nymphs for help setting up a picnic.” He blushed. “I was honestly hinging on the fact that I kind of...maybe knew he liked me back?”
Reyna couldn’t help being surprised by this. She knew Nico was perceptive, but after spending time with Jason and Percy, she’d come to expect a certain amount of dense behavior from Big Three boys, especially regarding matters of the heart. “How did you know?”
“He stared at me. A lot.”
“He could’ve been homicidal.”
Nico scoffed. “Him? Homicidal? The only thing he’s killing is his self esteem. I can see your point, though. He’s threatened to kill me multiple times.” He smiled. “Metaphorically, of course.”
“Who is this person you’re dating, again?”
“Will Solace.”
“The head medic, correct?” She’d seen him earlier, half-carrying Nico after his exhausting shadow-travel. He had informed them he was tagging along to meet with some children of Ascelpius, but she believed it was so he could tend to Nico post shadow-travel. “Hm. Continue.”
Nico took another sip of his hot chocolate. “Right. Picnic. Nothing went as planned. I’m not sure how it happened, but private picnic in the woods translated to public coming out party.” He let out a stuttered laugh. “The moment I saw it...I’m going to be honest, Rey. I wanted to run off and forget the whole thing. There were so many people. What I’d prepared was so personal and...it was meant just for him. I didn’t know how to say all of it to everyone.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder. He leant into her embrace. “I thought about it,” he continued. “Running away. But when I saw all those faces, people I had gotten to know, I didn’t want to.” The wind fluttered between them, shifting leaves on the ground. “And I had a choice. I could reschedule the whole thing and make it private, like I’d asked.”
“Did you?”
“I didn’t.” His face was crimson. “I asked him out in front of everyone. It was the most embarrassing thing I’d ever done in my life. And he said yes .” He snorted into her arm, half-hysterical. “I can’t believe he said yes.”
“I thought you said you knew he liked you?”
“In theory,” he insisted. “I just didn’t think he’d agree. Maybe it was a small crush, and he didn’t feel the way I felt about him, not as strongly. Or maybe he just thought I looked good, for some reason. Maybe he was delirious.”
“A son of Apollo,” she droned, “delirious.”
“Yes.”
“What, because he makes you take vitamins?”
He punched her lightly on the shoulder. “Whatever. But...he’s an anomaly. He just keeps surprising me, even if it’s little things. Did you know he has a tattoo? It’s shaped like the sun. He doesn’t seem like the type for tattoos – and he has piercings. He did them himself when he was a kid. But he stopped wearing earrings because he developed an allergy to nickel, and-” Nico stopped, shoulders hitching upwards. “Sorry.”
“For what?” she asked. “You were just getting started.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, blabbering like an idiot. I don’t want to bore you.”
“Trust me, Nico. You are the furthest thing from boring,” she reassured. “Besides, I asked. I want to know more about this boy that has you blabbering like an idiot.”
Reyna thought it might take more convincing, but after a bit of back-and-forth, he relented. She’d never seen him talk so much, and so fast. She was attentive to the shifts in his face, how his thick eyebrows narrowed, rose; the subtle curve of his lips and the laughter behind them. These were all things she’d known existed before, but had never seen come to the surface.
She wanted to say he looked happy, but that wasn’t the right word. It didn’t feel like enough. She had seen him claim to be happy many times before, but what he really meant was at peace. He trained like he was surrounded, ate like they were rationing, slept lightly like sleep was a weakness. When wars ended, he was left restless, but that was better than exhausted or dissociative, so it was considered happiness. It was a delusion of content.
He didn’t seem to be living in that delusion any longer. At dinner, she watched over the rim of her goblet, drinking up every change in him. Nico looked different in the candlelight, the flames carving new shapes into his face. He metamorphosized in the dark, starting out the meal hunched quiet by his sister’s side, and ending it with a wild recollection of a story that had everyone laughing.
Tell it again, Dakota shouted. The rest of the cohort let out cries of agreement.
Will arched an eyebrow. Under the firelight, his hair flared the color of a sunset. Well, your Majesty?
Nico beamed at his boyfriend. If you insist.
(At the end of the night, Reyna knew what word she had been looking for: blissful.)
iv.
Drew wanted to ignore it, really.
Unfortunately, she was too observant not to notice the obvious. She could sit in her cabin, filing her nails all day, and still the gossip would reach her ears. It was impossible for it not to – the Aphrodite cabin was where rumors came to rot and spread, where they multiplied and swarmed like locusts. Have you heard? crooned her sister, Nadia. Those two are adorable. You should see them.
If only I cared, she’d snapped back. Because she didn’t, even if it involved two of her pseudo-friends, and preferred to focus on her summer plans. Until, of course, she’d landed herself in the infirmary.
Drew prided herself in her ability to multitask. She’d been studying a textbook propped between her legs, having just finished applying a coat of nail polish to her toes, and had been in the process of straightening her hair when a sibling informed her of a relationship spat erupting over in the pavilion. Too hasty, she’d spun around, brushed her toes against a bedpost (goodbye, nail polish) and burnt herself with her hair straightener.
Now she sat on wrinkled cot sheets, biting her tongue as Will Solace slathered a generous amount of salve onto her arm. “Drew, this is the fifth time. You’ve got to be more careful. Maybe you should have someone chaperone you.”
“Over my dead body.” She hissed as his fingers brushed over the burns. He had the audacity to smirk – she supposed she’d always liked him for that, not that she would ever admit it. “I’d rather burn myself again.”
“Disappointing,” he chided.
“You know what’s disappointing?” She pointed at his chest with a manicured nail. He wore an obnoxiously bright shirt with a smiling sun motif. It was just the sort of disgusting thing he’d pick out at a store. “This outfit. You don’t normally have any tangible fashion sense, but this is a new low.”
“Excuse me, it was a gift.”
“They must know you well,” she said dryly. “Seems like something you’d actually pay money for.”
“Oh, he would,” said a new voice. Drew turned to see a smug Nico di Angelo sauntering past the doorway. His outfit was considerably less eye-assaulting than Will’s, as he was all wrapped up in muted colors: a sleeveless grey turtleneck, a leather jacket, jeans far too skinny for anyone his age to be wearing, and sharp combat boots. He carried a dish of food in his hands, and his sword glowed at his waist.
“You’re supposed to be on my side, Nico,” Will pouted.
“You make it oh-so-easy to be your enemy,” Nico quipped. He set a tray down on the table, and Drew grimaced at the chips in his dark purple nail polish. That would have to be touched up. If she were feeling generous later, she’d offer. “Lunch is served.”
Will batted his eyelashes, and Drew had to roll her eyes. “You brought me lunch?”
“I actually went to the pavilion because there was a fight going on. Turns out it was just Chiara and Damien having their weekly breakup.”
“Wait,” Drew held up a hand. “That’s what was happening?”
“She called him un imbecille and threw pita bread at him. I’d say it was more entertaining than last week’s breakup.” He stole a potato chip off Will’s plate. “I’ll talk about it with Chiara later.”
Drew recalled that the two were friends – though friends was a thinly veiled façade for little shits who speak the same language and use it solely for gossip. She adored them for it, honestly, and it was part of the reason she’d become friends (or something akin to that) with Nico. He preferred to stay out of drama, but always wanted one pinkie in, and she could respect that. “Tell her she’s better off without him.”
Will sipped his peach tea and nodded. “No use hurting yourself over and over again for the same guy, even if he is a good kisser.”
Nico stared at him. “How do you know that?”
“Word of mouth.”
“Word of -” Nico scowled at Will’s knowing grin. “Oh, ha-ha. You’re so funny. Where would I be without your comedic genius?”
“Rotting somewhere, probably,” Will chirped. Drew hid a smile behind her lithe fingers. “You’re just so cute when you’re jealous.”
“I am not cute.” Nico snapped.
“Not even a little?”
“I have scars on my face, Will.”
He popped a grape in his mouth, unbothered. “They add to your charm.”
“Scars are hot,” Drew added.
“I did not need to hear that,” Nico muttered.
She tossed her hair and shot him a Cheshire-grin. “What do you find hot, then?”
Nico glanced at Will, who had some sort of sandwich sauce smeared over his bottom lip. “Will’s pretty. On a good day.”
Will pressed a melodramatic hand to his heart. “You think I’m pretty?”
Nico shrugged, but he chose to look away now, focusing on the grape in his hands. “Especially in the sun. Which I suppose is an Apollo thing, but...” His face burnt red. “I’m going to stop talking now.”
“You look pretty in the sun, too,” Will offered, playfully flicking Nico’s cheek. “Your dark hair gets all shiny and your skin glows, like you’re drinking in the light. It’s beautiful.” He pecked Nico’s cheek. “You’re beautiful.”
Drew watched as Nico’s perturbed lips curved into a wobbly, surprised smile. He tried to look unbothered about it, but she knew he wasn’t used to receiving compliments. He preferred to be unseen – a notion she embraced on her lesser days. You couldn’t be judged if nobody could see you.
Nico had done that plenty when she’d seen him. It was why she’d invited him into the Aphrodite cabin for a much needed nail session (he’d bitten those poor things to the bone). A little self-care always helped her. Still, when she’d subtly complimented his hair texture and face structure, he’d given a limp shrug, as though he had never considered those parts of himself worthy of comment.
Now he covered his face with twitching fingers, flustered as a schoolgirl who’d just been given a bouquet of dandelions. “Shut up. You got mustard on me.”
Will wiped it away with his thumb, grinning. “I could go on - you have the most gorgeous eyes. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
“They’re just brown, Will.”
“The prettiest shade of brown ever. Also, your eyelashes .”
“They are to die for,” Drew admitted.
“But...they’re just eyelashes.”
“And that, hon, is the problem with you.”
Will’s fingers brushed against a mole on Nico’s cheek. His cheer exuded the air like clouds of perfume. “Shall I continue?”
Nico rolled his eyes. “Oh, there’s more?”
“Always.” He said it smoothly, effortlessly. Drew could tell he’d thought about this. “But something’s missing.” His fingers trailed up Nico’s knee, traversed the swath of his jacket, and attacked, tickling Nico’s sides. He clamped his hands over his mouth, but eventually let the laughter through.
“Stop,” he wheezed, clutching his torso. “I swear to all the gods-”
“There it is,” Will lifted Nico’s chin, interrupting his spiel. “That’s what I was looking for.”
Nico’s smile was a delicate surprise. It changed him like a magic spell, made him look beyond youthful. His eyes crinkled at the corners, edges soft and less harsh. His cheeks grew fuller, rosy, lovely. If his skin drank in light, his smile was radiance itself.
“Stop,” Nico repeated, his voice a mumble.
Will’s freckled palms cupped Nico’s face. “Complimenting you?”
“If you’re going to kiss me, get on with it.”
Will laughed and obliged, his mouth flitting over nose, eyelids, lips. A careful, timed dance that both had practiced, and still they tripped into their kisses and fumbled with their hands.
“You taste like mustard,” Nico said. “I hate mustard.” He kissed Will again.
Goodbye, basic bedside manner. “Injured patient here, hello?” Drew called, waving her arm.
Will pulled away to inspect her burn. He smiled cheerfully; Nico buried his head in his shirt like a turtle, finally remembering that he was in a public place. “A bit of ambrosia, and you should be good to go.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly. “You guys are disgusting.”
“Yeah,” Nico grumbled. “We know.”
v.
Nico, Will, and him, stuck in New York traffic. Not Percy’s dream scenario.
He sat at the wheel, humming the broken tune to a song as they drove at the speed sloths probably moved. Will sat in the passenger seat, tugging the strings on his Camp Counselor hoodie. Nico lounged in the back, feet up on the arm rest, blowing hair out of his eyes. “How close are we, Percy?”
“Um.” He checked the GPS. “Five miles away.”
In the review mirror, he could see Nico dragging a hand down his face. “Gods, at this rate we’ll be there in the next century .”
“Are you sure there isn’t a closer pharmacy anywhere?” Will asked. He searched the maze of cars and fumes, grimacing. During the few conversations he’d had with the medic, Percy knew that Will had grown up in a relatively less dense neighborhood in Austin, where he mostly walked everywhere he needed to go. He fidgeted against the glass, counting the vehicles like that might make them disappear.
“It’s the nearest CVS,” Percy explained. “Besides, traffic is always murder here. It would’ve been easier to take a subway, but there isn’t one near camp.”
“We could have summoned Jules-Albert,” Nico complained.
“What, is he just going to run over all these people?” Will retorted.
“No, but it’s infinitely more comfortable in the limo. Plus, soda in glass bottles. And better air conditioning.”
“There’s coffee in here,” Percy chimed. “Oh, wait. Nevermind. It’s empty.”
“Coffee in this heat would be suicide,” Will mumbled.
“We could shadow-travel.”
“Dude, I don’t think three people at once is a good idea.”
“It’s a terrible idea,” Will butted in. “You’re already exhausted. Also, we can’t just leave the camp van in the middle of the road.”
“Unfortunately,” Nico muttered.
“We’ll just have to wait it out,” Will continued. “We should play a game or something.”
Ever the mediator. Percy reached for another stick of gum – he could already hear Annabeth’s voice in his head, telling him it was a bad idea because those things just make you hungrier - but by then he’d already stuck it in his mouth. “I’m game. Twenty questions?”
“I’ll start,” said Will. “Favorite color?”
“I feel like mine’s obvious,” Percy said, waving his gum’s electric-blue wrapper around.
Nico’s voice carried over from the back. “Green.”
Will’s eyebrows furrowed. “Your favorite color is green?”
“I have to commit to the aesthetic I chose, so everything I wear is black.” He shrugged. “I have a few green things, but they aren’t clothes.”
“Commit to the aesthetic?” Percy echoed. “What does that even mean?”
“You don’t have a sense of style, so I wouldn’t expect you to know.” At Will’s chuckle, Nico added, “Neither do you, Will.”
“Backstabber.”
“He’s kind of right, man. Yesterday you wore sweatpants and a Finding Nemo shirt in the infirmary,” Percy pointed out.
“I didn’t have anything clean!” Will protested. “And Finding Nemo is a good movie.”
Percy nodded. “It is.”
Nico rolled his eyes. “Okay, next question before you guys start bawling about the sequel-”
“The sequel,” Percy interrupted, “was terrible.”
“I heard they’re making a live-action for it,” said Will. He made a face. “Actually, no, that was Moana.”
If they had been moving, Percy would’ve slammed the brakes. “They’re what? ”
Will’s expression was grim. “They’ve casted and everything, I think.”
“ No. Disney can’t do that. They can’t. Gods, the movie is ruined.” Percy banged his head against the wheel. “I’m just going to ignore it’s existence. But – no, I have to watch it, it’s Moana ...”
Nico sighed. “Is it really that good?”
Percy eyed him viciously through the mirror. “Are you telling me you haven’t watched it?”
“Nico hasn’t seen a lot of movies,” Will informed him. “We’re going through a list, but we haven’t reached the Disney Era of films yet. We were going to start with Treasure Planet and Atlantis for that.”
“Nico would love Treasure Planet.”
“I know, right?”
“Nico is right here,” the son of Hades snapped. “And, Percy, pull over.”
“Huh?”
“I’m hungry.” He pointed to a nearby McDonald’s, pressing his finger against the cloudy window. His brown eyes were hooked on the twin golden arches like they were a haven, an oasis within a desert of never-ending traffic.
“We ate before leaving,” Will reminded him.
“I’m hungry,” Nico repeated. “Let’s get McDonald’s.”
“I’m kind of feeling a McFlurry,” Percy agreed. “It’s boiling out here. Don’t you want ice cream?”
“Will’s a lunatic who doesn’t like ice cream,” Nico deadpanned. “Pull over there.”
“I like ice cream,” Will said tiredly, as if they'd had this conversation before.
“You like fruit ice cream. Sorbets, or whatever they’re called.”
“And?”
“You’re disgusting,” Nico concluded, blowing Will a kiss.
They found themselves parking and entering the restaurant, since the line outside was about as long as a hydra’s neck, and the air conditioning in the van was, frankly, terrible. Inside, they were greeted with a cacophony of screaming children, exhausted parents, and another long line. Three boys in bright t-shirts (minus Nico, who wore a black version of the camp tee and insisted on wearing his jacket in the heat) didn’t stand out much.
“Ah,” Percy inhaled. “The sweet, sweet smell of grease.”
“And I’m disgusting,” Will muttered. “Let’s make it quick. Nico, your usual, right?”
He nodded. They approached the cashier woman, who rung up their orders. She beckoned them to select a payment option, and Percy caught notice of the way her teeth glinted unnaturally as she talked. When Nico slid a sleek black card over the counter, she caressed it gently with her long nails. “Ah, a Platinum Hades card? Haven’t seen those in a long, long while.”
Will flinched, but Nico didn’t look all too surprised. “They’re hard to come by.”
“Yes, aren’t they?” The woman smiled sweetly. Her name tag read Kelly . Percy reached for his pen. “A friend of mine had one of these. Kept us from having to enter high school, but then an accident occurred and she passed.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Nico said dryly. “Can I have my food, now?”
“Of course,” she replied. “Just as soon as I have mine.”
Percy inwardly sighed, ready for her to go through the usual dramatic transformation – red eyes, glowing skin, elongating fangs. That didn’t happen, though, as Will moved in front of Nico, face awfully cheerful, and said, “Actually, we’re in a bit of a rush, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”
“What?” she spat, momentarily stunned. Percy could see her instincts telling her to attack, but Will’s grin kept her dazzled. Light built in his chest, like his heart had turned into a balloon and was expanding, until it pushed out in a beam of radiance. She screamed and ducked underneath the counter.
“What was that? ” Percy blinked, trying to see past the raging spots in his eyes.
Nico’s voice came from somewhere next to him. “Care Bear Solace.”
“Oh my gods, Nico. I thought we weren’t telling anyone about that nickname.”
“Sorry. It slipped.”
“Right,” Will drawled, stepping into the passenger seat. Kelly fumed at them from a window, but was ultimately dragged back to work by her manager. “I’m so sure.”
Nico offered up his Happy Meal. “You won’t accept apology apple slices?”
Will mumbled something incoherent and pulled the baggie out, munching silently.
“Care Bear Solace,” Percy muttered. “You learn something new every day.”
“Shut up, Jackson,” the couple piped in unison. He shut up.
+1
“So,” Will said. “You have dysentery.”
“This isn’t funny,” Frances grit out. “At all.”
“I’m not trying to be,” he said earnestly. “It’s true.”
“You have a 4.27% chance of dying of dysentery,” Nico helpfully informed her. He stood at Will’s side wearing black scrubs and boots that scraped the ground. Will didn’t look much better – he wore sweatpants and had his sunny yellow sleeves rolled up. While Nico’s hair was coiffed and curled, his was a disheveled mess. Makeup barely covered his eyebags. It was a typical sight, especially during flu season.
Frances, being new, was unsure what to make of Nico’s presence, though. Was he supposed to be some sort of accommodating Death Siri, enlightening her on the grisly details of her potential death? She couldn’t tell if either of them were joking. Will looked too tired for that, and Nico’s face was carefully indifferent. “...Right. How the hell did I get it?”
“The condition is caused by a variety of things,” he told her. “Usually, it’s contracted from contaminated food or water.”
Pavilion food couldn’t make you sick, but she had indulged in a bit of baklava her sister Cyla had brought from home. But Cyla was a neat-freak, and would probably dissolve if she’d found out her baklava was anything short of perfect. “Is there a cure?”
“Hm,” Nico hummed. Trepidation climbed up her spine like a spider. “Well, there’s surgery.”
Her eyes bulged. “Surgery?”
“Surgery,” he repeated. “We’ll have to cut out your intestines.”
“Nico,” Will warned.
“There’s a 40% success rate, but Will’s the best surgeon we have. You’ll be fine. You might not be able to eat solids for a couple months, though.”
“I...what?”
“Don’t listen to him,” Will interrupted. “He’s lying.”
“Why would you hire a liar, Will?” Nico asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“This is an infirmary at a summer camp, not a public hospital. There is no ‘hiring.’”
“You gave me scrubs.”
“Because I thought you’d look cute in them. And you do.” Will scribbled something onto his clipboard. “I hired a very cute, cuddly, pathological liar who looks good in scrubs.”
Nico smiled. It was even and symmetrical and very, very wrong. “They sound like an interesting person. Anyway, Frances, let’s talk about pre and post surgery expectations.”
She clutched her stomach. It roiled in protest. “Wait, so is the surgery real or not?”
“Of course it is. What would you like written on your tombstone? We here at Camp Half Blood tend to burn our dead, but if you want a traditional burial, that can be arranged.” He looked like he might whip out a PowerPoint slide any moment. “If you survive, ambrosia will be the main facet of your recovery.”
Will sighed. “You’ve spent so much time in here you almost sound legitimate.”
Frances pulled on her bangs. “Can someone confirm I am not going to die?”
“You aren’t going to die,” Will told her.
“If we pray hard enough,” Nico adds.
“Nico, love, shut up.” Will turned towards her and tried for a pleasant smile. “It’ll go away in a few days. Make sure to drink plenty of fluids and don’t get too dehydrated. I’d suggest drinking some lemon juice.”
“That’s gross,” Nico commented. “Personally, I’d just do whatever I wanted.”
“And that’s why you always come back immediately after being discharged. Frances, you’re talking to a chronic misinformant.”
"I'm serious," Nico said. "Extremely."
Will rolled his eyes. "You'll be fine."
Frances nodded slowly. When she made eye contact with the others, they only snickered. She glanced at the surrounding medics. The one with green tipped hair mouthed, It’s always like this.
Oh, she thought as they escorted her out. That's lovely.