Title: all roads (lead to home)
Fandom: Percy Jackson & the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus
Rating: G
Words: 1358 words
Characters/Pairings: Nico+Reyna, with references to Nico/Will.
Summary: They'd agreed upon it ages ago, back when it became clear that Albania was something to be looked back upon without cringing. Nico, Reyna, and a long awaited, non-life threatening road trip. Futurefic.
Notes: Spoilers for Blood of Olympus. I am also incredibly rusty, and may come back to edit this at some point.
It's only a matter of days before he feels himself resigning to sulking once more, sitting in an empty cabin that Piper at her diplomatic best could only describe as a "work in progress" after Jason's well-intentioned efforts to start "sprucing up the place". So when Reyna suddenly appears, Nico can only jump, nearly falling off his bed.
"Sorry!" she says, "I'm still getting the hang of Iris messaging."
"Err, I was just-" He pauses, taking a moment to collect himself, upright once more and daring to believe that he's now sitting with the dignity expected of the Ghost King. He clears his throat. "How are things?"
She smiles in that reassuring way he's become accustomed to, listing everything that needs to be done and exactly how they intend to do it, and as she goes on, he can't help thinking that it's nice she doesn't expect him to talk whenever he's at a loss for words. It's only at the end that he realizes what she's trying to say: with all that's going on, it's difficult for her to leave. She's been the rock of the Twelfth Legion, he thinks, and despite what others may say, her strength is needed now more than ever.
"It's ok," he says, knowing she'll feel better with an answer, "since there's nothing to forgive."
Worry leaves with the relaxing of her shoulders, her ever perfect posture loosening just so. "Well, then – you know what that means. Don't be a stranger."
(He won't, even if he wanted to; he's made too many promises to his sisters to do otherwise.)
It becomes a routine: he applies for a weekend visit (though it's a formality, and Chiron knows it), tells Will he'll be back soon, and then shadow travels to the West Coast, where he spends time teasing Hazel (and Frank, while he's at it) in the praetor's villa before Reyna and Rachel (always, without fail, no matter how often they protest) treat them all –Tyson and Ella included - to Sunday brunch.
(They offer him varying levels of short waves and quick high fives and small nods when he gets ready to go, but he's since learned to always expect warm hugs from Hazel and Reyna, longest and last.)
At first it's entirely by accident, and later, quite deliberate, that he avoids timing his trips to overlap with the occasions Jason's going back and forth. (Hera's machinations had forged new friendships and strengthened some, but he couldn't forget that it had also weakened others.) She never says it, but he knows Reyna doesn't like to dwell on how far she's drifted apart from the former praetor, not when she's grown so much closer to the other Greeks. So he figures not giving the pontifex maximus the opportunity to awkwardly suggest they spend all their waking hours together is the least he can do.
(That doesn't mean she lets him win when they face off in their many rounds of Mythomagic, and there's a part of him that thinks he'd be more worried if she ever did.)
It's springtime when he hears word.
"Get ready," she says, "we leave in May, and it'll be a long one."
(Will, he's sure, would be absolutely horrified, but he knows Reyna will indulge him in his wish to bring a carful of awful junk food for their many days on the road.)
They'd agreed upon it ages ago, back when it became clear that Albania was something to be looked back upon without cringing: if she were to step down as other praetors had done in peacetime, they'd take a summer trip together from Camp Jupiter to wherever she'd ended up for school. (He had told her then that they'd make it an extended vacation, even if she was just moving within her own backyard.)
Hylla had been the first to know, of course. Then Frank and Hazel, both tasked as praetors. And then, him. Nico di Angelo, Ambassador of Pluto, and now Fourth Keeper of the Secret of Where Reyna Was to Go.
(It's something left unspoken between them, but none had ever needed the Sibylline Books to guess that she'd end up somewhere far from the university classrooms of New Rome.)
They start in San Francisco. There are places they avoid, of course - Las Vegas, Charleston - and others they find themselves called back to - DC, San Juan. They take crowded buses and sleepy trains, though Reyna drives when she wants to, and they shadow travels when they need to. They share picnic spreads and dessert buffets, making (mostly) solemn faces in their photos and funny ones in those of others, and split their nights between campgrounds and fancy hotels he isn't sure they can afford.
(He thinks Rachel had a hand in that, makes a note to thank her.)
When they're in Montreal, sitting on a park bench groaning over their bad French - there are some things, he has learned, that even Reyna isn't good at - her mouth twists in that way where he knows she wants to confess.
"It was starting to feel crowded," she says quietly, hands moving as though she's trying to pluck the right words from the air, "you know what I mean?"
He nods, thinking about his reply. (He's gotten better at this thing over the years, making conversation and knowing when others want him to be heard.) After the war - well, the two of them, really – with everyone on their own path, at one camp, the other, or floating back and forth somewhere in between, there'd been so much building and rebuilding that he had often wondered how she ever had the time to breathe. He's struck with a vision of his father, wondering if he's also inherited the worst sense of advice Olympus can offer, when he remembers. "What was it again that Coach Hedge said back in Tirana?"
She clears her throat, and in her best impression of their favorite satyr – who, at that moment in question, had been suspended upside down and looking as though he was questioning his initial decision to accompany them – says, "You demigods never seem to understand that there are too many heroes, and not enough prophecies!"
He laughs, loud and clear. "You made the right choice, Reyna. You shouldn't stay in New Rome just because you feel you need to."
She smiles at him, smoothing down the stray hairs in her braid and reaching for her bag. "Thanks. Now, come on, I'm in the mood for some ice cream."
(There's a part of him, hidden away deep down and utterly selfish, that's secretly glad he only has to lose one sister to commanding that city at a time.)
They're only a few days away from Long Island, eating in a cozy pizza place, when he nearly chokes on his slice. Reyna stops mid-sentence, and turns, casually gesturing for their guests to sit down. It's a few Hunters of course, sliding effortlessly into their booth, and their lieutenant sports an almost frightening grin.
"So, Nico – what's this I hear about you needing to buy a birthday gift for Will?"
He's sure his face has never been redder, and when he looks to Reyna for help as Thalia continues to interrogate him, she can only offer him a sympathetic shrug in response.
(It's the first time the entire trip that he wishes it'd be over soon.)
He's up early to see her off, sky still full of drowsy red and orange hues, and he's surprised by how much he already misses her. (She's leaving him at Camp Half-Blood, now joined by Hylla who's driving her up to her dorm.)
He shuffles his feet, wondering how he's regressed to the Nico of long ago, feeling as teary-eyed as Chuck on his bad days.
Reyna just ruffles his hair. "Getting to New England is easy after all we've been through. I'll just be a few hours away, kiddo – you can visit me anytime."
(He knows what she's really saying: "Don't worry, little brother – you can be sure I'll come back.")