Chapter Text
It comes as a surprise, the emotion that floods him during what should probably be the lowest moment of his year.
But it's there, all the same.
Percy sits on his mother's couch and gets broken up with and feels only relief, in the place where pain and sadness were supposed to be.
(Like a chain being unlocked.
The guilt eats at him – how disappointed will everyone be?)
And he'd seen it coming, admittedly. Had known, of course, where they'd been heading – with Annabeth, ready for bigger things, striving for success, always. And himself, stuck behind. Lagging and struggling and wanting normalcy more than anything without fully knowing what it truly is.
Throughout their whole relationship, after the world had stopped ending, they've had trouble fitting together like they wanted.
Not as friends, they're brilliant at that, always. But relationship wise it always felt like they were walking out of rhythm. Needing and wanting different things.
So no, despite what everyone might think, he's doing just fine.
He's lost, a little, but that's to be expected. He'd thought, back when they were younger, that it'd be forever – and so many people had been quick to assure that it was. Even mom had been so certain.
Every doubt, every uncertainty, had been washed away in the wake of their firm belief.
So.
Percy's fine.
He's just not sure where to go from here.
(It was the right thing to do, the right person – everyone said so.
Except it wasn't.
Where does he go, now? Where does he start?)
It turns out Chiron's still offering paid positions at camp, which is actually perfect. He'd tried to talk to Annabeth about it, a job he could actually do well at, but her entire future was in New Rome and so she hadn't wanted to hear about it.
Percy had given up, way too easily, and went back to switching jobs every two months – either not qualified enough or too 'disaster prone' to hold on to anything.
I should've fought more, he thinks now, enveloped in his mom's warm welcome. The way she'd teared up at the sight of him, beaming. Estelle's delighted shrieks and grabby hands and Paul's bright smile, the way he'd instinctively reached over to mess with his hair.
It makes something settle, in Percy's bones, just the act of stepping through the door, of being near them.
He's missed the feeling of coming home.
(He should wonder what it means, maybe, that New Rome never even got close to it.
He's far too tired to. It doesn't matter, anyway.)
On his first week back, Percy deals with overeager young demigods, monsters squatting a bit too close and remodeling his old cabin to fit a bed that'll actually be comfortable – who knew that reaching adulthood was key for getting rid of those uncomfortable bunk beds.
(He hadn't thought of staying, not really. Why would he, when he and Annabeth were made to be together as everyone constantly reminded him?)
On his second week back, Percy deals with Nico di Angelo.
It's by far the most difficult part of camp life.
It starts like this: Percy has just tidied up the armoury after a whole bunch of Ares kids left it in shambles and Nico steps through the door.
There's nothing dramatic about it, nothing earth shattering. It's just Nico.
It's just the hint of familiar, warm want twisting around his lungs – something he's long since begun associating with Nico. Since the walls between them started cracking in the aftermath of Gaea, since they've become friends, and isn't that something?
But it's just Nico.
(It's always been just Nico.)
“Percy,” the son of Hades smiles, crooked and unpracticed still but there. And isn't that something? “Mr. D told me you were back.”
“I forgot you're like. Best friends with the wine dude now.” Percy snorts.
“Jealousy doesn't suit you, Jackson.”
“Oh, yeah, you're really breaking my heart, Neeks.”
Nico rolls his eyes – but he's smiling all the same and Percy counts that as a win.
“I came here to ask if you wanted help but-”
“No! Gods, please, I do need help. I think dealing with kids all day is what'll end up killing me, I'm not even joking.”
It starts like this: Nico offers his help because that's just what he does, time and time again, and Percy follows along, pathetically grateful even if he never quite shows it.
Three weeks after that, Nico lets it slip that he's staying outside of camp – in an apartment Hades had bought just so he wouldn't have to be surrounded by kids at all hours.
Percy is unbearable about it. He can't help it, though, he's so curious about it. A space just for Nico, away from his demigod life – the place where he sleeps and winds down and prepares food and watches TV, maybe. He's never sure what modern things Nico is aware of.
The son of Hades turns to him, one night, just after the kids have gone off to bed and wordlessly sticks out his hand.
Percy stares at it.
“Come on,” Nico says, “You've been bothering me enough.”
“Hell yeah, dude!”
Nico sighs, something like amusement slipping past the annoyed façade, and tugs him into the shadows.
What he sees on the other side is like nothing he'd been expecting.
Something dark, he'd thought, everything in black, maybe.
It's not.
The living room is bathed in warm light. It's small but doesn't feel cramped – cozy, would be a good way to put it. The couch is a bit worn but it looks soft, dark green and covered in blankets (one, patterned with skulls, is particularly eye catching). There's a rug over the majority of the floor, white with black and yellow stars.
It's cute.
Percy can almost see Nico curling up here, reading one of the many books or magazines piled on the coffee table. There's a TV, too, but he can't imagine it gets much use. He smiles at the thought, endeared, something warm lighting up in his chest.
(He doesn't question the sudden need to be there. Witness all that he's thinking of with his own two eyes. Be part of it.
It's normal to be invested, isn't it? After spending so much wanting Nico to be safe?
It's just to be expected, that he'd want to know what the younger boy looks like, in a space just for him.)
Percy whistles, low, and turns to meet Nico's eyes.
“Done with your inspection, officer?” The son of Hades snarks, trying and failing to hide the nervousness.
It's weird, how many times he's heard about how mysterious Nico is. Because he really, really isn't. He's downright loud with his emotions, you just need to pay attention.
They're all in the eyes, in the fluttering of his hands, in the red bitten look of his lips.
Percy didn't bother paying attention, maybe, but he is now and it's so easy to spot them.
In the corner of his mouth, the scrunch of his nose, the twitching of one eyebrow.
“It's really cool, dude,” He reassures, “I like it.”
Nico relaxes, visibly. His mouth curls up, ever so slightly.
“I'll give you the grand tour, then.”
Percy ooh's, fanning himself.
“You really know how to make a guy feel important.”
The burst of laughter that follows – unexpected and sweet like bells – has him smiling stupidly for the rest of the night, grinning like an idiot in his cabin even after Nico drops him off.
Maybe this should be the moment to question himself, to look for answers and find them curled up close around his heart.
Hidden.
But Percy has never been good about the whole understanding himself thing. And if they're hidden, well. It doesn't just happen on its own – someone must've chosen not to look, not to bother, pushing them away until they burrowed so deep it was no use anymore to try and find them.
Why look into the shadowy corners, when you could simply bask in the light and pray it doesn't end up burning you too harshly?
More than a month after getting to Camp, three after what should've been the lowest point of his year, Nico di Angelo makes himself at home in those very own shadows and Percy, be it consciously or not, starts looking.
I feel lighter than I have in so much time
I've crossed the border line of weightless
One deep breath out from the sky