"I Do."

A few days after Percy and Annabeth had safely returned to the Argo II's crew, they'd been thankful-so thankful-for being alive, for being safe, for being together. But at the same time, they'd felt gloomy. The impeding feeling looming over them killing most of the times they'd even dare to think of smiling. They had left Bob and Damasen in Tartarus, even though they knew in their hearts that those monsters, those good monsters, those great friends, had wanted nothing but to see the sun again, to bask in the warmth, to sit under the stars at night, to be happy and content, to be at peace.

But they knew it was an impossible dream, even if they did though, it would not in any way stop them from trying, because that's just what they did. They tried. Demigods were built that way, to try and try until you just couldn't anymore. The gods are cruel, but there's nothing you could do but to laugh with them. It's just the way life works. Percy and Annabeth had done the unimaginable; they conquered Tartarus and came back alive. It wasn't as satisfying as one would think though, too much things happened along the way, too much sacrifices were made, without something to hold on, without someone to anchor, it was very likely to not survive and it was even more likely one would lose their sanity along the way.

"But Nico had done it," Percy concluded one warm afternoon, they were at the Argo II's poop deck sipping pink lemonades. They were careful to be secluded from the others, they needed the time out anyway.

"Yeah, he did." Annabeth said, as a matter of fact. Thumbing a page in her impossibly thick book, and Percy had to stop for a moment to think, where'd she get that?

"Ever wondered how he did it?" He prodded, Annabeth just looked up from her book (more like thesaurus) and shrugged,

"Not really."

Huh. Percy wondered how she could just not think about it. Nico had single-handedly survived Tartarus with nothing but the clothes on his back. He was admirable, and despite being a really pale, socially-awkward, teen introvert, Percy was pretty damn proud. Figuring he'd not get much from thinking over it, he made like Annabeth and just shrugged. He had a girlfriend to love and a team to attend to. He needed to get his priorities straight and work even harder, don't let this chance go to waste, defeat Gaea and avenge his fallen friends.

But despite knowing all that, Percy couldn't get Nico out of his mind.

Huh.

"Dude, I'm trying to say thank you."

Nico laughed without humor. "I'm trying to say you don't need to. Now I need to finish this, if you could give me some space?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Percy stepped back while Nico took up the slack on his ropes. He slipped them over his shoulders as if the Athena Parthenos were a giant backpack.

Percy couldn't help feeling a little hurt, being told to take a hike. Then again, Nico had been through a lot. The guy had survived in Tartarus on his own. Percy understood firsthand just how much strength that must have taken.

Annabeth walked up the hill to join them. She took Percy's hand, which made him feel better.

"Good luck," she told Nico.

"Yeah." He didn't meet her eyes. "You too."

A minute later, Reyna and Coach Hedge arrived in full armor with packs over their shoulders.

Reyna looked grim and ready for combat. Coach Hedge grinned like he was expecting a surprise party.

Reyna gave Annabeth a hug. "We will succeed," she promised.

"I know you will," Annabeth said.

Coach Hedge shouldered his baseball bat. "Yeah, don't worry. I'm going to get to camp and see my baby! Uh, I mean I'm going to get this baby to camp!" He patted the leg of the Athena Parthenos.

"All right," said Nico. "Grab the ropes, please. Here we go." Reyna and Hedge took hold. The air darkened. The Athena Parthenos collapsed into its own shadow and disappeared, along with its three escorts.

A bubbly feeling erupted in Percy's chest, almost as if he was back in Tartarus suffering from the poison that had been sceptered to him. Not knowing what it meant in the least, he shook it off, deciding to deal with those feelings later. Maybe he could talk to Nico about it, confront him about his reveries.

Nico never came back.

Percy was conflicted with all these things, tormenting himself over thoughts that taunted and puzzled him to an extent where he couldn't take it anymore, but he just had to. However two years after they'd defeated Gaea and settled down, all his conflictions had turned into a dull throb somewhere in his chest that feels strangely close to his heart. He can't seem to smile anymore, feeling nothing but the dull throb.

'He's never coming back' Percy would start, and it ended in very tragic nights filled with the haze of alcohol and sloppy, inexperienced makeouts with Annabeth. He was eighteen that year and he could do pretty much anything he wanted. He was underage but he just didn't care, Percy Jackson could fake it. It was that time of one's life where one thinks he's pretty much invincible, doing everything and anything because that's just what eighteen year old demigods do.

He'd wake up the next day though, nursing and feeling the ache of a hangover pulsing through his clouded head and powerful waves of guilt and embarrassment for the acts he'd done the previous night. Yeah, sure, he did all those things blatantly at dusk, like a wild animal set out of it's cage for the night only to be returned the next morning, but it doesn't mean he was proud of them. And that's just the thing, he was never proud of them. But he didn't have it in his heart to say sorry to Annabeth, he didn't have it in his heart to take an aspirin to numb the pain of the result of his miserable, shameful act, he didn't have it in his heart, he didn't have the heart.

Nico, that fourteen year old kid who still hasn't shot up.

Nico, that pale, graveyard-loving wallflower who stayed away every chance he got.

Nico, that one guy Percy didn't seem to understand but still manage to feel a connection with.

Nico, that frightened young boy he'd tried his best to save.

Nico, that brave boy who risked his life to lead his friends to the Doors of Death.

Nico.

He just couldn't stop thinking about Nico.

Percy just keeps telling himself that it'll stop one day, that one day he'll wake up and not think of Nico every chance he got.

It didn't happen.

But some part deep inside him, a small, teeny-weeny miniscule portion of him was happy it didn't

What the fuck.

"You're different now." She started flatly, I just gave her a sour questioning look and asked,

"How?"

She shrugged, (she always shrugged, what is it with her and shrugging) she considered me from top to bottom and slowly, languidly, agonizingly made her way up to make eye contact,

"You just are."

And that was it. No talking it over, no arguing, no tears, no drama, they just drifted apart. Although considering all they've been through, Tartarus, Kronos, the Labyrinth, the Sea of Monsters, Luke, he had expected more blood. It was so un-climactic that he just stood there, dazed, because what the hell just happened.

But for some (fucked up) reason, ever since they broke up, he felt as if finally-for the first time in a very long time-he's able to breathe fresh air. It's exhilarating. And for the first time in a even longer time,

Percy smiles.

Percy is nineteen when he spots a mop of dark brown unruly hair and an aviator jacket and he does a double take because it couldn't be.

He springs to his toes and weaves his way through the crowd of demigods, both new and old, it was always crowded during summer and as much as he used to like it he's cursing it now because he almost lost sight of that gorgeous shade of brown. Flittering through a group of Aphrodite sisters, a few girls opened their mouths to say something only to have eaten dust because Percy was long gone and too anxious for idle chitchat. He looked around once, twice, but the brown haired mystery was gone and his head hung low, too disappointed to even move from his spot.

Causing a bit of traffic, he decided dejectedly, 'it was just my imagination' and shuffled over to a bench to plop down. He sighed longingly and watched demigods pass him by, some excited, some accustomed, it was all so familiar that he just laughed without humor. Eyes void of happiness because he was just seeing things and he had so much things inside him ready to burst out, emotions he couldn't place, feelings he can't seem to erase. And he hoped, somehow, seeing the cause of his change would help him understand. He shook his head, nope, Percy, you're over this, whatever's happening is just a phase and you'll get over it, one da-

His thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder, and he almost squeaked, but of course he didn't because that wasn't very manly of him and turned around swiftly because who the fuck does that and-

Oh.

The gorgeous shade of brown hair is framing a face and that face looks very handsome and very familiar but very mature at the same time that Percy kind of forgot to breathe and-

Oh.

He took a breath and whispered, as if the person were a mirage he didn't want to shatter, "Nico"

And the figure smirked, smirked, because

"I see you still remember who I am"

And in that moment, Percy realized that all the stuff he felt before was just love, and he was in love, and gods, he was in love with Nico Di Angelo.

When had this happened? Percy couldn't seem to recall because Nico is looking at him and he's looking back and seeing Nico for the first time in three years and he's here.

But then Nico's face contorts into mild confusion and Percy is broken from his epiphany and peeps out a "What?" and Nico's eyes shine with amusement. Huh, that's a first. Not like he hates it or anything, yes, definitely, he does not hate it.

"You look like you've seen a ghost" he cracks a small smile.

And he decides that Nico Di Angelo, the son of Hades, was going to be the cause of his death.

(But he decides later on that Nico Di Angelo is also the cause of his vivacity)

Percy stood up and was annoyingly (pleasantly) shocked to find out that Di Angelo has gotten taller, arms no longer a gangly teenager's but of a confident man, but Percy's supposed to be the older man. Ironic.

"Whoa, Nico, how old did you say you were again?" he stutters very slightly at the end

"Seventeen." Nico replies, his voice like satin.

"Oh." Percy forgot, it has been three years.

He laughs nervously, because it only struck him now how much time had passed and how much Nico grew. He was no longer the socially awkward teen he knew before, he was more open now, more inviting, taller even, his body lean with a hint of muscle and his face radiating a mature, deadly kind of appeal. His dark brown eyes were nicely showcased in the morning sun. His skin was still as pale as ever and his lips ar- stop, Percy, what the hell

"Are you staying?" Percy inquired hopefully, Nico thought about it for a moment and shifted his feet a bit, he looked uncomfortable so Percy stepped in,

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to, Nico. It's fine."

Nico surveyed him for a moment, trying to read the expression on his face, he slouched a bit but straightened up right away.

"I'll stay if you want me to." resolution evident in his features.

Percy never really thought he'd ever get to say this, but he will and it feels like wedding bells are gonna ring any moment now.

"I do."