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"where are we even going?" asked hazel, having to walk at an awkward jog to keep up with nico and Frank.
"I'm not sure" nico said, he looked nervous, understandably, the three of them were in Italy, dangerously close to the homeland. hazel suspected it was more than just this that's bothering him though.
"I just kind of.. have this feeling, that we're going this way, yknow?" he said tentatively.
they kept walking, down the busy sidewalks of Venice, past tourists and other loud visitors.
there was something in nico that made him feel guilty for even being here, he didn't like being a tourist in his own country, let alone his own city. he felt the need to be speaking his language at any chance he can get, to show others walking by that he's from here, but that didn't hide the very noticable Canadian standing next to him, and hazel kept loudly asking him what he's saying, in possibly the most new Orleans accent in the world, honestly, she needs to get her hearing checked out.
nico truly didn't know where he was going, he just had a gut feeling which way to go, maybe some 70 years ago, he knew his way around Venice, where everything is, knew everyone in his area. but now, after so long, and losing most of his memories (that were still slowly coming back to him), he was lucky to have that gut feeling.
every now and then they would pass an old family owned business that he remembers visiting when it was brand new, and he remembers talking to the kids of the family that owned it. his favourite was the old gelato place a short walk away from his house, he would take that walk with bianca once a week, with money bianca stole from their mama, to buy gelato, and then they'd go sit by the boat docks dangling their feet in the water and hoping they'd finish eating in time to get home before mama asked where they were.
nico was fairly certain mama knew bianca was stealing from her, but they were kids and she would have given them the money either way, plus she saw how proud bianca looked when she slipped nico his share of change.
thinking about it now, he vaguely realised that was the direction they were headed, towards the gelato shop, if it was even still running. this realisation brought a wave of panic to nico, being that close to his childhood home, he didnt know if he could handle it. he didn't want to say anything, hazel has a habit of getting all protective whenever nico even slightly implies he might be having trouble, and he didn't exactly want to trauma dump on Frank, a guy who already thinks he's weird.
a few minutes later, he realized that might be exactly what happens.
they'd passed the gelato shop, with hazel making fun of nico for how he was looking at the tubs of ice cream. theyd passed the bridge where nico remembered waving down at people on boats, and throwing small stones at them. theyd passed the canal nico fell in that one time while being chased by birds. and theyre currently standing infront of the street he grew up in, at the very end of the walkway, his childhood home, a fairly big house, for he grew up wealthy, with the sounds of the birds for the early spring, and the smell of the water nearby. he swore he was back in the 1920s, as a little boy, standing there, about to bolt as fast as he could to his front door, to prove to bianca that he's fast enough to outrun the boats going by, and that he wont trip and fall into the canals once again.
he remembered all the times he ended up in the canals, he was very well known by his neighbors for it. he remembers all the times he's slipped, fell or even jumped into the canals, trying to escape monsters. one time he jumped onto a moving boat to avoid the creatures coming at him, only for the couple on the boat to freak out and for the boat to tip, and for him to fall in anyways.
bianca would always have to jump in after him, to drag him home, wringing out her socks and yelling for mama to find a way to keep nico away from the water. nico would apologize, but would always forget to wipe the smile off his face, unable to take his sister seriously when her hair is stuck to her head.
his mama would show up, ask him what happened, and if nico were to tell her about the monsters, she would listen.
"that's ridiculous, niccolo!" bianca would yell, frustrated that she has to pull him out of his messes.
"Chieta, bianca, let him finish" mama would reply.
he'd finish talking and mama wouldn't say anything, just send him off to bed early, but he could hear her talking to bianca. about him.
"why do you let him keep saying this stuff, mama? people are worried for him!" bianca cried, she was known at school for her brother, not because nico was cool, because he was interesting.
he told people disturbing stories of the things he sees, one time he went up to one of bianca's friends, told her that her nonna was about to die, and bianca left with him, telling him how that isn't okay to say. the next day bianca would go to school and her friends would avoid her, they would giggle at her and she'd never see them again.
"bianca." mama warned her, bianca was getting frustrated.
"your brother is... not like you." she said, avoiding looking at her daughter. "he sees the world differently, than us."
"why? is there something wrong with him?" bianca asked, though she already knew the answer, anybody who knew nico knew what was wrong with him.
he'd grown up surrounded by doctors, professionals, every adult in his life, besides his mama, addressed him as 'maria's defective son' or 'the schizo boy, the one who sees ghosts'.
"we aren't sure bianca. they say hes..." she looked at bianca, sighed. "they're still figuring it out." mama said, with a gentle push of bianca's shoulder, she was sending her daughter off to bed right next to nico.
he didn't realize he had been crying. he didn't realize untill he looked up, expecting to see bianca holding him through another one of his 'outbursts', only to find hazel, which just made him cry more.
Frank stood by us, confused but somewhat sympathetic.
nico was gasping for air, his legs crumbling. it wasn't the first time hazel had seen him have one of these flashback moments. she had them too. she tried to keep distance from nico, wanting to give him air, letting him breathe and to evaluate where he was, what his mission was.
he took a deep breath, still crying, but he suspected he wouldn't stop anytime soon. the dark circles under his eyes were temporarily replaced with the red puffyness that came with tears, and he reached for hazel to lean against.
walking towards the building infront of them, it looked nearly abandoned. nico was almost offended, this was his home, one that had delicate paint, furniture and fabrics. lace curtains and even a gold plated door handle on the front door. the outside paint was chipped, web covered the windows from the outside, the gold was weathered and has since turned green from oxidisation. it was no less beautiful than ever, but he can feel all his sweet memories of his home being replaced by the old, abandoned look.
Frank tried the door, locked, looking back to hazel, asking if its okay to break open the door. hazel looked at me. I nodded. I wanted to get inside, I wanted to see if all my stuff is still there, if anything is salvageable. Frank thumped his shoulder against the door, once, twice, three times, the fourth opened it.
his mind blurred, hazel had to drag him inside, once in, Frank opened the curtains for him, so the sunlight lit the entrance. nico gasped, falling to his knees. he heard Frank talking worriedly to hazel, and her responding, but he was too far gone to understand any of it.
he knelt, up on the wall was a family photo, mama, sitting in her chair, in her favourite dress, her hair in a bun and a smile on her face. bianca stood tall next to her, her hand on the edge of Mama's chair, her other hand holding mine. she wore her hair in a single braid over her shoulder, on top of her head, a paper boy hat. the one she wore everywhere. it was a gift from dad. next to her, almost attached to her hand, was nico, about 6, in his button up shirt, with a vest overtop, and his schoolboy shorts pulled up high. he smiled big and wide, happy to be front and centre of the photo. held in his hand was a statue, from his favourite game. it was hard to tell what statue, and nico didn't remember. on his head, a matching paper boy hat. one that got lost almost as soon as he received it, an eagle came and took it right off his head.
hazel rubbed nicos back, the dead and wilted flowers, that are pretty much nothing but dust by now, have found a way to die even more, Frank could feel his internal systems acting up, just slightly. nico was killing everything around him, but himself.
realizing what he was doing brought him back, he was hyperventilating, but he didn't want to be responsible for anyone's death, especially not hazels, his sister. he couldnt understand anything being said to him, it felt like his brain was failing him, he was jumpy and speaking all too loud for a space like this. his eyes were wide and he was screaming whenever he noticed something unfamiliar, which was everything. forcing himself to move on, he came up to the photo on the wall.
"is that you?" hazel asked, the answer was obvious, but she wanted to encourage nico to talk about his past, hoping it'll help what's happening.
"me, mama and bianca." I said, pointing.
"shes beautiful." hazel whispered.
"who? mama, or bianca?" I asked, "both?" hazel smiled, grasping my hand. I smiled, agreeing. I reached up and grabbed the picture from off the wall, brushing off the dust from the glass. trying to get a closer look. Frank took a step closer.
"what are you holding?" he asked, careful not to startle me.
"statue, from mythomagic, i'd assume" I muttered. "it was my favourite game."
Frank smiled, trying to see which statue it was.
"we should play sometime. I have a deck we can use."
I look up at him, surprised he was offering to hang out with me. "no need, I still have all my cards."
I continued walking, feeling a lot safer with hazel next to me, she asked me about everything in the house, about the handprints on the wall, the scratches on the doorframe to indicate height, my mothers old spinning wheel, her loom. the books we found on the shelf, that I remember trying to read when I was really little, but the words coming out in a mumble of syllables. I didn't know I was dyslexic at the time, I didn't know for quite a while after that, but all the time I would come back, open a book at a random page and start speaking. the writing was too advanced for any kid my age, let alone me.
hazel listened, she didnt interrupt me, she didnt pity me, she commented on some of the stuff i said, making a joke or asking to hear more, but she never shamed me for speaking so much about myself. she always told me i need to open up more, it'll help me make friends, and i never beleived her. but just speaking about my childhood, outloud. im not even questioning if its all real, it feels like a huge acomplishment.
two years ago, if anyone mentioned bianca, or mama, i would spiral, i would kick and scream and run away into the night, finding my place umong the dead, seeking desperately to see them one more time. now, i still cry, i still scream, i still kill the grass i stand on, but i dont run. hazel made me promise, after i came back from the jar, not to run away again. and i promised, this time, this is a promise that will be kept.
i still go absent sometimes, unable to stop shaking, unable to speak, or move, or ackowledge anybody near me.
that night, not too long ago. when i was frail, weak, starved, and dying. fresh out of tartarus, watching percy and annabeth fall right in, just as things started looking good for us. we rushed back to the argo, all of us terrified, wondering what to do. i was absent then, in the head. i went through image after image of percy, his face, his courage, his loyalty. i memorised how he looked when he fell, thinking it may be the last time i saw him. i tried to throw myself over the edge of the argo, to plunge into the sea. but hazel grabbed me as i reached my hand out to touch the railing, she didnt pull me, didnt move me. just grabbed me.
"Nico."
"I need you to move away from the railing."
"I need you here, Nico. not in the underworld. here."
I retracted my hand. placing it by my side. the tone of her voice told me she was crying. she needed me. I needed her.
its hard to find reason when I'm absent. but I found it. I forced it to stay. and I took a step back. she grabbed my arm, pulling me away, she didnt try and bring me inside the boat, she saw how panicked I felt being in the secluded space under the carpark, she knew I was probably still scared of tight spaces, so she brought me up to the mast, sat right next to me and kept me close so I wouldnt jump off. what she did next surprised me. she asked me to talk about pirates. she said that being up on the mast made her feel like a pirate, and she wanted to hear more about them. and so I told her about pirates, about how I've always wanted to be one. I talked for ages untill I stopped crying, and untill I no longer had the urge to jump. untill my throat was sore, and it was getting cold outside.
she saved my life. if she hadn't done it, I don't know what I'd do. I would never have considered we could still save them.
everything I do now, is done to save them. to save him. but also to save myself. I'm a long way away from healthy, I'm still starving, and I'm still pale, and I still cry at night. but I've made a promise, and everyday I remind myself of who I promised it to. and that she needs me.
walking through the living room, i held hazels hand, frank wandered around, looking at stuff, not wanting to bother us. he was respectful not to touch anything unless allowed.
it hurt, seeing my house trashed. the place had been abandoned decades ago, luckily nobody had come in, trashed the place or left anything else in here. things have been preserved. this is probably my last time seeing any of this stuff.
our old radio sat on the table, next to Mama's rocking chair. the one I was listening to when the war began. when it was announced to the whole country that everybody's sons were being drafted.
i tell hazel about it, how i remember telling mama, who was cooking dinner, she ran over to listen. bianca leaving her room to listen as well. mama looked scared, i was only 10, didnt know what to do. i wouldnt be drafted yet, but I had anywhere from 5-8 years untill I would, who knows how desperate they get. nonno was a diplomat, he would be in trouble. my neighbor, who used to babysit me when mama had to run errands, would be drafted, bianca's classmates were only a year or two off being drafted themselves. mama finished making dinner, putting a extra little treat on the sides to try to cheer us up, but the next few months went by slow.
"was she a good cook?" Frank asked, then apologized for interrupting.
"really good. she was a stay at home mother, so she had plenty of time to perfect her cooking." I replied.
I let go of hazels hand to look at some stuff lying around.
"how did you end up in America? and why didn't you take any of this with you?" Frank asked. looking at the books on the shelves.
"we immigrated, because of the war. at the time we went, America wasn't apart of the war, and they still had their resources. we were under Mussolini at the time. you can imagine how that went." I said, trying to laugh about it.
the war was a much easier topic than anything else, i never saw it face to face, I heard stories from bianca, who heard from her friends, who heard from their parents, about things that happened on the battlefield. it was much easier to ignore it all.
I picked up a few of the books from the shelf. journals, art books, photo books. deciding to bring them back with me. I couldn't bring any of this with me when we left, but I can now.
Frank offered me the backpack he brought, to put them in.
moving on, we looked through the kitchen, trying to figure out what we were doing in here, what was so important that my instinct brought me here of all places.
the three of us kept getting sidetracked, looking at stuff we didn't have time to look at, but I was still Shakey, and when I wasn't talking about things that didn't matter, like what forks to use for what meals, or what spices go with certain dishes, I was thinking about how awful I felt to be here. and hazel kept asking me to talk about anything I could see.
suddenly closing the cabinets, I wander off into the hallway, hazel wondering where I was going. she followed me, followed by Frank who didn't want to be left alone in the spider web filled kitchen.
down the hallway I went, an unusual confidence in my walk, pausing by one of the shut doors, looking at it, hazel stopping beside me. then I move on.
"we'll come back to that one." I say.
Bianca's room, I couldn't go in there right now. that one had to be last. hazel would have to carry my out of there kicking and screaming, and we had other stuff to look at first.
I open my bedroom door, at the end of the hallway. my bed was still in the corner, the mattress broken with holes from all the bugs eating away at it. multiple metal tins of mythomagic cards stacked up at the foot of my bed, I knew they were empty, I took the cards with me, but not the boxes. the boxes made them too big to fit in our limited storage.
A framed photo of me me as a baby, being held by bianca, with bianca being held by mama was on my bedside table. I quietly put it in our bag.
finding nothing else interesting, as I was a simple child and only really liked playing cards, we moved on, to bianca's room.
I stood in front of the door, preparing myself, hazel came and hugged me around the shoulder. waiting for me to do something, offering support.
I pushed open the door, seeing a bed in the corner, in the same condition as mine. next to it, a small vanity style desk, with jewelery littered around.
earrings, necklaces, bracelets, even a fancy pocket watch that Nico has never seen before.
On the chair, bianca's paperboy hat. Nico picked it up, confused.
this is one of the only things bianca brought with her to america. it wasn't supposed to be here. bianca was wearing it at Westover hall, when Percy, grover and Thalia had come and brought me and bianca to camp. she left with the hat on that quest. this hat was supposed to be buried in the debris with bianca's body.
not to mention. it was clean.
everything else in the room had developed a think layer of dust, bugs had eaten away at all the fabric in the room, mold was biting at the edges of the window. but this hat was brand new.
the inside had her name on it, in her very own writing.
hazel reached out to grab it, looking at me to see if it was okay to touch it. she placed it on my head, smiling, trying to have fun, to cheer me up.
I smiled back, leaving it on my head. maybe dad has come and returned it. maybe this is what I came here to find. I doubted it, but there was nothing else interesting anywhere.
I found my throat closing up, tears welling in my eyes again, I shut my eyes and asked hazel to bring me away from there. it hurt to separate myself from her belongings, but there was nothing for me here. I didn't need to spend any time in her room. I didn't need her stuff, I needed her. I needed my sister. and my sister was here, hazel was here.
hazel brought me back outside, Frank still following behind like a lost child, not sure if he should do anything.
somehow managing to calm myself down, not without struggle, I choked out a few words, as much as I could.
"I'm sorry, we found nothing.." I said quietly, my voice sounded painful.
"its okay, chances are, there was nothing here for us to find anyways." hazel responded, guiding me away from the building, as quickly as we could, we walked back to the argo.
walking past that gelato shop was painful. but I shut my eyes and let hazel guide me past.
she'd done more for me this past hour than I'd ever be able to do for her. it felt unfair, I'd never be able to pay her back, and I always tell her this, but either way, she continues to care for me.
Frank pat me on the back when we got into view of the argo, he told me I was brave for visiting that house, that I should be proud of myself.
I needed a minute, after we got up on deck. to collect my bearings. up on the mast I sat, and I flicked through all the memories I had of Percy. he was still gone, and we still had no clue where to find the house of hades. I had no idea how to save him, or annabeth. but I knew we were going to. I wasn't going to give up on them.
giving up on them would be to give up on myself. and I made a promise.
I would never get bianca back, or mama. but I would have hazel. I didn't want to think of hazel as a replacement, she was her own person. but in a way, it feels like bianca and mama show themselves to me through her. maybe I wanted too much to have them back, maybe I was projecting. but I think bianca would have loved hazel. she always loved kind people. and hazel is the kindest person I ever met.