Chapter Text
Nico sat on the edge of a cliff his hands shaking. He surveyed the view carefully, taking in every inch of the view, looking for possible threats. He found none.
As he sat on the ledge, he did not admire the sunset before him, nor think of the future. His mind was locked on the past, of everything he’d seen in Tartarus. Of everything he’d felt.
Despite what people commonly thought, tartarus did not just kill. Everything there was designed to destroy it’s victims, if you were lucky. If you were unlucky, you stayed alive.
The longer you lived, the worse it was.
The air was poisoned, and it hurt to breathe. There was no water or food, forcing it’s victims to drink fire in order to survive. But the fire did not abide once you swallowed. It stayed within you, burning from the inside out, causing constant excruciating pain. The ground was made of shards of glass, and monsters lurking around every corner.
It wasn’t just the physical threats, though. It was the mental ones that were the worst. The urge for Nico to curl into a ball and just allow himself to die was constant. But that would mean admitting defeat.
The heart of tartarus itself radiated fear, constantly torturing the trespassers with visions of their fears, of their friends, of their own demise. The mental pain was enough to turn any sane man insane, even without the added physical damage.
And then he was a child of Hades. Being a child of Hades meant not only was he linked on a fundamental level with these beings, allowing them greater access to his mind, but he could see everything. Unveiled. A human who walked through tartarus could see less than 2% of the true tortures around him. A demigod, depending on their power-level, could see between 7-18%. But him? He could see everything.
Nico was the first mortal to ever survive Tartarus. The only mortal to go alone. And the only being, other than the primordials, who had seen everything.
Nico had spent more time in the pit than Percy and Annabeth. He wasn’t just passing through, he was captured and tortured. For weeks. For months. Time worked differently down there, and Tartarus made sure to give Nico the longest stay he could.
And that was before the giants. Before being stuck in a jar for weeks, wondering if the seven would save him. Wondering if he would live, or if his soul would remain locked in there forever.
Nico was powerful. Extremely powerful. Only someone with his level of power could withstand tartarus for that long. But it also meant Nico was more skilled than he let on. Not only could he manipulate the mist, courtesy of his powers brimming from both Hades’ and Hecate’s realms, but he could dreamscape.
He watched as the seven argued over him, only his sister asking to save him. He watched as they decided to save him only when it was necessary for them to prevail. He watched as they whispered hushed conversations about him, insulted him, forgot him.
It hurt. To watch Jason complain about how annoying he was. For Percy to call him useless. For Hazel, his own sister, to disown him. For Frank and Piper to nod along. No one speaking up in his defence.
He felt a tear roll down his cheek, remembering Jason’s hurtful words.
“He is a freak. Why should we rescue him? All he ever does is sulk and complain about life's unfairness. He’s not special. He’s nobody.”
And Jason was right.
The young boy was pulled out of his thoughts by a pair of muffled footsteps, silently making their way towards him. Nico blinked away the tear, knowing that he could show no emotion.
Emotion is weakness.
The newcomer stood beside Nico, silently observing the scenery, waiting for the younger boy to notice him. When Nico didn’t react, he cleared his throat, causing the other to glance in his direction.
“Hello.”
Red Hood blinked. Most children would have stared at him, either terrified or in awe of the anti-hero before them. But this child did neither, silently returning his gaze to the now dark sky.
“It’s too late for a kid to be outside, especially alone. You shouldn't be here.”
“I’m not a kid. And,” the boy continued, “ I don't see any signs saying I can't be here.”
“Well,” The anti-hero paused, searching for a reply that would not upset the child. What would Dick say? “It’s dangerous for you to be out here.”
“If anyone has a problem with me being here,” The young boy easily relied, “They can fight me”
Red Hood shook his head.
“I wouldn’t suggest doing that,” he cautioned. “There are a lot of dangerous people who would take you up on that.”
The young boy stared blankly into the sky, unblinking. “And I am probably the most dangerous of them all.”
Red Hood regarded the boy thoughtfully, surprised by his reply. It seemed he had underestimated the kid. Silently, he sat beside him, his feet dangling off the edge of the cliff.
“I know what it’s like.”
His companion furrowed his brow, his first sign of emotion since the anti-hero had arrived. Hood took it as a sign to continue.
“I was a street rat. Always barely surviving, getting into fights for food and shelter. And then one day, the Big Bad Bat found me stealing his tires. Rather than turn me in, he adopted me, putting me in a super-hero outfit and teaching me to fight. But I’m not him. Inside, I’ll always be the little street rat, willing to do whatever it takes to survive. And I did. I've hurt people, hell, I've taken lives to save my own!” A single tear rolled down his face. “I should’ve stayed dead. It was better there, peaceful. I’m not meant to live. But here I am. Alone.”
Nico glanced at the anti-hero, uncertain of how to react. He wanted to reach out and comfort him, but he didn’t know how. He wanted to tell him that he, too, had been abandoned. He wanted to tell him that he understood. But he was a child of hades. He didn’t know how.
But he tried anyway.
“I lost them. I lost them all. My mother, my sister. They're dead because of me. If only I’d been better. Less childish. Faster. Stronger. Then maybe they’d be alive. Maybe they wouldn't have left.
“My second family… They hate me. My own sister disowned me. Called me an embarrassment. A failure. My cousins, whom I viewed as brothers, tried to kill me. Stabbed a sword right through my chest, leaving me for dead.
“And my father… He’s right. I should have been the one to die. That way, they'd still be alive. That way… that way they'd be happier. They're all better off without me.”
The pair sat in silence, unsure how to continue the conversation. Finally, the anti-hero spoke.
“I’m Jason. Jason Todd.”
“Nico. Nicolai Di Angelo.”
The older boy put a hand on his shoulder.
“Got anywhere to stay, Nico?”
Nico shook his head.
“Why don’t you stay with me?”
Nico stared, wide-eyed. “I would like that. Thank you.”