Nico tugged uncomfortably at the edge of his collar. He was up to his eyes in people, body heat, and fancy perfume.

"You'll have fun," my ass.

He was wavering near a cloth-covered table of fancy little foods with that French name he couldn't remember, sweat plastering his bangs to his face.

He swallowed as someone bumped into him again. He shouldn't have come. Granted, Jason had invited him, and it would be rude to turn him down, but all night he'd been hanging out with Piper. And, granted, her dad had paid for the ticket, but the feeling of being alone among strangers was stifling.

Nico had his hair slicked out of his eyes with gel. He'd found himself some black slacks, a pressed shirt and a vest, but he still felt woefully underdressed. The cacophony of the ball's ambience. The sweat. The colors. The damn smell.

A hard, slender hand clapped Nico's shoulder, doubtlessly smearing something on his shirt.

"Hey, Olive Garden, you feeling alright?"

Leo's broad grin greeted him. Nico scoffed quietly. "'Olive Garden?'"

Leo shrugged. "I couldn't think of a better one. Seriously, though, are you okay?"

"No, I'm fine. Crowds just get to me." Leo offered a napkin, which Nico used to dab at the sweat running down his face. "Thanks."

"No problem. I don't take issue with crowds, but rich crowds… hoo boy." Leo laughed humorlessly.

Nico passed Leo a glass of punch. The red stuff, not that fancy coconut bullshit everyone else had. "I saw a woman with a mink coat. Real mink, with the head still on it. What does she think she's doing? It's the middle of June. Piper's gonna flip her shit if she sees that."

"Gods. One of my foster parents used to take me to these things. They're just as bad as I remember." An odd look crossed Leo's face. He put it to bed quickly. "Uh… Jason and Piper are busy doing couple stuff. You want to hang with me for a while?"

Nico personally didn't witness it, but he'd heard. Calypso left for the Hunters of Artemis — she chose the world over him, an understandable choice, Leo asserted whenever the topic came up. Nico sometimes came into Bunker 9 and bothered him just to alleviate some loneliness for all involved.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice."

Nico and Leo spent a good hour trying to shove as much tiny food in their pockets as possible. (The word was hors d'oeuvres, though Leo pronounced it "horse divorce," which didn't seem right.) It was a nice time, up until Jason stepped away to check on Nico.

"Hey, Nico! Having a good time?" Jason said, smiling, flushed. Nico had looked for fancy alcohol and couldn't find any, but the McLeans must have hooked Jason up.

Nico was getting tired, while Jason looked like he was just getting started. It made Nico feel worse all of a sudden, like he wasn't having enough fun. He patted his pocketful of tiny eclairs. "You could say that."

Jason grinned, flashed the "OK" sign, and walked off while drinking what he knew wasn't soda.

Nico tried to keep going with Leo, but eventually the guilty thoughts started getting to his head.

"I'm trying to get some fancy shrimp for Harley, but it's so close to the dance floor that people just stare at me. Can you use, like, Underworld magic to sneak over there…?" Leo asked, trailing off. "What, am I too hot for you?"

"What? What?" Nico's throat was too tight.

"You're sweating."

"Ugh, it's just… anxiety getting to me. Go on ahead, I need a second," Nico muttered, stumbling into the bathroom.

He sighed. The bathroom was blank white, way bigger than necessary, and thanks gods, cool.

A year after leaving Tartarus, Nico still looked terrible. His skin had gotten pinker and his cheeks were fuller but his eyes were dead-looking. The eyes of a corpse.

His hands shook badly, gripping the edge of the marble counter. Such things should be trivial. He should be having fun.

Splash splash splash.

Not getting any better.

Maybe it was time to throw in the towel, it was almost midnight.

He stepped out to tell Leo he was leaving — and ran into someone.

Nico reeled back. "Oh, I'm sorry—"

The boy he ran into blinked. "Are you okay, sir?"

Nico sighed, but not too hard, because if he exhaled too hard his lungs might've turned inside out. "I just need air."

He went back to the counter and stood there for a good minute before turning back to the boy. "…What?" the boy said.

"Are you going to use the bathroom?"

The boy started. He seemed to remember where he was suddenly. Now that he looked, Nico realized he was wearing all white, and his head appeared to float against the bathroom wall. Nico was the only speck of black in the room. He felt like a fly in a glass of milk. "Oh! Oh, I'm waiting for someone."

"I'm the only person in here."

"You are?" The boy opened each bathroom stall. "Ah. You are." He shifted anxiously, the papers in his hand crinkling. "…Do you need help?"

"I'm okay."

"Not that kind of help. …Hold on." The boy rummaged in his coat, pulling out a small orange rectangle. He gave it to Nico.

Nico squinted. NEW TESTAMENT.

The boy smiled earnestly. "Would you like to build a personal relationship with Jesus?"

Oh.

Nico tried not to crack up.

Don't be an asshole, Nico. He's doing his best.

"Um… I'm sorry, you… ha!" He disguised his laughter as a cough. "I'm already Catholic."

That was a lie, but he figured it would get the kid off his back. He didn't need a pocket Bible to tell him he was going to hell, he'd already been.

The boy looked surprised, but he bought it. "Huh. You look like a Satanist."

"I get that a lot. I'll tell you what." Nico fished a napkin-wrapped mini éclair out of his pocket. "Have this. Thanks for making my night."

The boy took the éclair and stared at it. It seemed to remind him of something. "Uh… I lost my father earlier. We're supposed to stay together; could you help me… find him?" he said quietly, tucking the éclair into his pocket.

Nico shrugged. He was feeling a lot better. "Okay."

The boy took him by the arm. "He's tall and has a beard," he explained, walking into the ballroom.

Nico glanced at the boy. He was painfully thin, with wispy red hair. "Is he a redhead?"

"Oh, no, I'm adopted."

Nico stood on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. "How tall are we talking here?" He turned to get an answer, but the boy was gone.

Nico went back into the crowd. Eventually he found Leo.

Leo was sitting at a round table, empty but for himself and a glass of red punch he was nursing morosely. "Hey," he said as Nico sat down next to him. "I thought you left."

Nico fixed Leo's tie, having somehow come undone. "Me? Leaving unannounced? Unthinkable."

Leo snorted. "Seriously, though. I was having fun earlier, but now it's just getting old." He looked pointedly at a couple making out on the ballroom floor, soggy with champagne. "If you're leaving early, take me with you."

"Not yet. I was helping some kid find his dad."

"Where's the kid?"

"I lost him too. You're taller. Tell me if you see anything."

"I can do you one better." Leo climbed up on his chair. He shielded his eyes in a gesture of mock concentration. "What do they look like?"

"The dad's tall and has a beard."

"So's Piper's dad. Tell me something else."

"The kid is a redhead. Weedy looking."

Leo laughed. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were talking about…" He blinked, like he was trying to bring something into focus. "About…"

Nico wanted to ask why Leo was stammering, but that was before the boy popped back into his periphery.

"Hey! It's okay, I found my father!" The boy looked at Leo, then Nico, then Leo. "Oh my gosh! I know you!" he cried.

Leo paled and put a finger to his lips.

Behind the boy, a man emerged from the crowd. Indeed, he was tall, so much so that the top of his head would be visible from the other side of the room. And he did have a beard. It reminded Nico of Chiron's beard. But above his beard, Chiron had kind eyes. This man's eyes held no kindness.

"Son, I told you not to run off," he said in a deep, booming voice. His eyes went to Nico. "I'm sorry, Ezra's always been very jumpy…" He looked up. His eyebrows rose. "Leo?"

Nico looked up too, but his gaze stopped at Leo's shaking knees, and he quickly helped him down from the chair.

The boy, Ezra, wasn't fazed. "It's just like you said! Leo's come back to us!"

Leo looked like he was going to vomit. "Um. Um."

The man smiled, like a cat playing with a mouse. "What? No 'hello father?'"

Leo gulped and squeezed Nico's hand. "H-hello, Father Abraham."

Father Abraham's face settled in a way one might call "placid." "We have a lot to talk about, Leo. I'd like to know what you're up to, since it's clearly more important than coming home. And who's this young man?" he said, pointing at Nico. Specifically, at the hand interlocked with Leo's. "I hope you're not giving into temptation."

"I… I… I…"

Leo' hand warmed dangerously.

Nico pulled him away from Abraham. "I'm sure he'd love to talk, but he's on some new medicine. It's not agreeing with the food."

Abraham frowned. "Oh. They're putting you on… poison. This is exactly what I was afraid of, son," he said, placing a hand on Leo's shoulder.

Nico swatted Abraham's hand away. "No offense, Father, but he's not your son."

Abraham nodded sagely. "Of course. Though," he added as Nico rushed away, "we're all children of God in the end. All of us."

Leo was hyperventilating, and Nico was trying to keep him from combusting in the middle of the crowd. A few people yelped when his bare arms brushed against theirs. Nico himself couldn't touch him for too long. His skin was like a hot sidewalk.

Finally, they burst into the bathroom. Nico ran the tap and thrust Leo's hand under the stream. He seemed to calm, fire hazard averted.

Leo's hair was smoldering. Nico cupped some water in his hands, but when he tried to put it out, Leo screamed. "No! Not there!"

Nico jumped back. "Okay. Okay, I'm putting it back."

Leo hunched over the sink silently.

"Are you going to throw up—?"

Leo covered his eyes and made a choked noise.

Oh. "Leo?"

"Take me home." He sounded as if he was being strangled.

"Home?"

"Camp. Anywhere. Just… I can't let him find me…" Leo moved to hug himself around the waist. Tears were rolling down his cheeks but didn't roll far before boiling away into steam.

Normally, Nico would shadow travel in a heartbeat, but… "Leo, is the rest of you as hot as your face is?"

Leo looked up. "What?"

"Temperature, Leo."

"I can't tell." He turned on the tap and ran more icy water over his hands. "Is this okay?" he said, holding out his palms.

Nico poked him. "It's better. Let's go."

Leo was shadowed traveled into the bathroom in Cabin 13 and sat on the floor.

Nico left him alone for as long as he could before he finally asked: "Why the bathroom?"

"The floor is tile so I can't burn it."

"That's very thoughtful, but I need to pee."

"Oh." Leo slinked out of the bathroom and hid in the corner. Nico felt terrible, but what could he do? This was a whole new frontier for him. Sure, campers sometimes asked him to teleport them away, but those incidents were often caused by otherwise harmless triggers. The sight of blood. Loud cracking sounds. Overstimulation.

This, though.

First, Nico had never seen Leo have a panic attack before. At this point, he'd seen almost everyone have a panic attack. Two wars over five years did that to people.

Second, he had a feeling that this wasn't a harmless trigger. Somehow, Abraham's presence was a very real danger to Leo. Something just didn't sit right with that encounter.

When Nico came out, Leo was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Feeling better?" he asked.

Leo shrugged.

Nico was quiet. It felt weird, asking the usual questions, because it was Leo this time. "How do you feel?"

"Um…" He glanced at the floor. "Kind of tired. Guess you can say I… burned myself out. " He laughed nervously.

"You can sleep here. I just have some questions. You don't have to answer but do me a favor and listen."

Leo nodded.

"Who's Abraham?"

He flinched. "An old foster parent."

Nico had thought as much. "Do you think he's looking for you?"

"He is looking for me. I ran away." Leo looked up, fear in his eyes. "Oh, god, what if he finds me?"

"Leo, he won't find you. He can't. A mortal won't be able to get through the barrier. You'll be okay." Nico patted the unoccupied bed. "Come on. It's fine."

Leo looked at the bed, googly-eyed. "Wait, you really sleep in that?!"

Cabin 13's beds were coffin-shaped. This unsettled the heck out of people, Nico included, because he hadn't put those in with the intent of sleeping in them. After the Titan War, he wasn't sure where he'd go, but it wasn't Camp Half-Blood. Funny how things change.

In fact, the whole cabin felt like an oven during the day. It was comfortable at night, but when Nico was trying to hide from nosy campers it was a pain in the ass. A black paint job is fine for an offering to Hades. For a long-term residence, not so much.

"Yeah - nobody wants to sleep in the coffin," Nico admitted. Not even Will. "Come on. I'll get you a blanket."

Rain was pounding the roof of the compound. Thunder screamed, and the ocean roared in response. In a couple of years, Leo would say this was the sound of Zeus and Poseidon arguing. But right now he was afraid to say anything, much less about a pagan god.

No. Leo wasn't here to blaspheme. He was here to fix the printer.

There was an office in the church, over-cooled and crowded with terrible props from old Christmas and Easter plays, and paperwork, and the printer's mangled output was sitting on the top, and though Leo didn't try reading it at the moment he knew what it was.

Ezra was shifting from foot to foot. Apparently Abraham adopted kids ages zero to eighteen, and Ezra was a case of zero. Leo didn't blame him for being like that. Horribly frustrating as it was. "So, it's always printed a little funny, but right now it's all blurry and blocky. So the tracts look really bad."

Leo opened the printer's top. "What do you mean, 'funny?'"

"Crooked."

Leo cracked the printer open, but not without issue. He had to angle his body in a way that his wounds didn't agree with. "I'll fix it in five minutes. Maybe three."

Ezra pushed his hair back. His hair was getting long. Apparently he had some issue with scissors that made haircuts difficult. "Are you sure? Because it looks like you just broke it in half."

"Haha. Yeah, I did." Leo looked at Ezra's panicked face and added, "I can put it back when I'm done."

Leo fixed the printer head, tuned up the rest of the decade-old machine, and closed it with staples. "Try it now."

Ezra went back to the office computer and printed the tract again. It came out perfectly. He beamed. "Thank you, Leo!" he said, patting Leo on the back. "I don't know what I'd do without you!"

Leo winced sharply. "No problem."

Ezra withdrew his hand. "Oh, no! I forgot. Does that still hurt?"

"It's, um…" He ground his teeth. "I'm okay."

"No, no. Let me get some Motrin for you." Real painkillers were hard to get, given Abraham's policy on medicine. Motrin barely took the edge off of menstrual cramps, so he heard.

Nevertheless, Leo didn't argue about it. Ezra rummaged in his pants pocket and took out a tic-tac box. He ate those mints all the time to curb his appetite, but he had a separate box for smuggling pain pills. Sometimes Leo wanted to snatch that stupid box out of his hand and swallow all of them at once. Ezra never had more than three at a time, though. He shook them all out and gave them to Leo.

Leo took them. "Ugh."

"Are you okay?" Ezra seemed genuinely concerned. Leo thought about punching him for a split second.

"No." He rubbed his wrists. "Abraham tried exorcising me again. I don't know what he's trying to do other than set another bed on fire. Awful waste of beds, if you ask me." A bitter attempt at humor was fired off and fell flat.

"Oh. Well, these things take time. A demon that's really deep in there could take years to remove."

Leo scoffed. "I can't believe this."

"Huh? What?"

"You seriously agree with him? He almost killed me the other day."

Ezra was legitimately taken aback. A part of Leo knew that it was unfair to take his anger out on this kid, but nothing about this was fair, and he was tired of dealing with some redheaded cog in a machine. "I don't agree with his methods, exactly, but I really think you have some problems."

"So you think I'm a demon, too?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you think so."

Ezra opened his mouth and closed it into a thin line.

There was a knock on the door. "Ezra! It's time for dinner!"

They both froze. Abraham's knocking was just a habit; they couldn't stop him from coming in and doing whatever in God's holy name he wanted.

Leo's back was to the door, and a firm hand locked on his shoulder. He began to sweat despite the temperature. "Ezra, you go on ahead. Leo is still fasting."

Leo's face said, Please don't leave.

Abraham said, "Ezra?"

Ezra was stuck. But only for a moment.

Whatever guilt Leo had stirred up settled fast. Ezra only gave him a passing, nervous glance as he walked out the door.

Leo hated Ezra because he was afraid of God, Leo hated God because He gave Abraham an excuse for his actions, and Leo hated himself because at this point, he was pretty sure God hated him too.

And Leo was alone with Abraham.

He woke up in a cold sweat, but the nightmare wasn't over yet.