Hey guys. I'm sorry, I know I'm in the middle of Invictus, but the idea for this flashed into my head and I had to put it down. It's gonna be a three-shot. And yes, I have them all written, don't worry.

Nico

The snow was falling on the streets of New Rome. The magical candles, lighting the sides of the roads, lent a gentle ambiance to the scene that reminded me of a cheesy Christmas movie.

It was Christmastime, anyway, though of course the Romans didn't celebrate.

I stopped, looking at a small, quiet establishment on the corner of Julius and Fourth. Brown walls, gentle lighting, soft rock playing in the background. The smell of coffee and the famous New Roman chocolate.

Legion. The shop was named Legion Coffee. No stupid slogan, just a print on the window. There were never more than six or seven people sitting in the place at any one time, though the coffee was good. It just wasn't that kind of place.

At nine o'clock on a Saturday, three patrons sitting together in a circle of soft green chairs, and 'Hang' by Matchbox Twenty playing through the speakers, I pushed through the door, hearing the familiar announcing jingle. I felt the trio's eyes on me as I walked to the counter and ordered a large black.

I felt like having something dark.

The warm feeling of the cup in my hands, mingled with the slow music behind the small talk in the corner, gave me a chance to think. To open my mind to the memories that I felt were too raw to think about yet.

He was dead.

Just the three words, spoken in my mind through weeks of pain, brought tears to my eyes. I blinked quickly and took a hurried sip of my drink, burning my tongue and giving me an excuse for my blurred vision. I blinked again and took a deep breath.

He was dead.

Did anyone else feel this way? I knew most people in New Rome hadn't even met him, and the thought that he hadn't even come here once made the lump in my throat swell. I took another breath, wondering if I could choke to death right now and have done.

He was dead.

The song ended and another one started, one I didn't know but that began, 'I was born before the storm/My mother placed a dozen thorns'. The lyrics were definitely appropriate to my frame of mind.

The door opened again.

Damn.

Percy Jackson. In Legion Coffee on a Saturday night. I didn't even know he was in New Rome.

The three patrons again turned and looked at him, their eyes staying on him for a lot longer than they had on me. He was the Savior of Olympus, after all.

And he had lost someone too, hadn't he.

I stood, my stool squeaking treacherously against the tile floor, and took a step towards the door. Percy, scanning the room, froze when he saw me. I pushed the cup against my face, desperately trying to leave before he greeted me. I couldn't talk to him. To any of them. I needed to be alone.

'Nico!'

Shit.

I turned, not making the slightest attempt to be friendly. 'What?'

A half-smile began on his face, but died before it reached his eyes. 'I just… didn't know you'd be here. Funny we met.'

I gave a noncommittal grunt, hoping to convey 'I didn't know either' and 'Goodbye' at once.

I guess I failed. He came over and sat down in a stool next to the one I had just stood up from. 'How are you?' he asked. 'I heard… about Will. Gods, I'm sorry, Nico.'

I could feel the lump in my throat closing up again, the tears pricking at the insides of my eyelids. I took a deep breath. 'Yeah. I… I heard about… Annabeth…'

Any smile he had been trying to form immediately died, was buried, and sent to Asphodel. 'Yeah.'

He looked down, between his feet propped on the stool's legs, at the brown tiled floor. 'Yeah. I… Yeah.'

I put a hand in my jacket pocket. 'I'm sorry.'

He looked up. 'Thanks.' He looked over at the counter, where the barista was watching him to see if he'd order. 'Yeah. Um… are you leaving? Or… do you want to get a dri- I mean, let me get a drink… And we could talk.'

He was dead. Nothing Percy was going to say to me would change that. He was dead and nothing could be done except hurt me more. Gods, you can't imagine how it hurts already. Talking about it… thinking about it… My heart couldn't take it. I already felt like dying, morbidly imagining the different ways I could change any situation into a suicide. I didn't feel like talking about it. And the pain wouldn't go away.

The words 'no, sorry, can't,' were on the tip of my tongue.

And then I saw his eyes.

He had lost someone too. He had pain too, didn't he, and instead of hiding… He was trying to help me.

His eyes had changed. Not broken, not dead, just changed. The look he wore now was the sorrow and the wisdom that comes with sorrow. He had felt the same thing as I had, his eyes said, and he had learned something, felt something.

'Sure,' I said. 'I'll sit here.'

Another half-smile was born. This time it reached his eyes. 'Great,' he said, and, standing, made his way to the counter and placed his order.

Percy

'Do you remember when you asked me if I could surf really well?' I asked him, remembering it clearly myself. Sitting in a tent, in the freezing cold, surrounded by people who wanted to kill us, and on the run, the kid had asked me if I could surf.

'I said that?' he asked, his eyes saying he knew very well he had said that.

'Yeah. And then you asked if Zeus had plus-five to saving throws.'

'I was stupid.'

'You were amazing. Remember when you said I wasn't your type?'

'How many people have I lost, Percy?'

The question stunned me. The change of subject, the sudden look in his eyes, gave me the sudden realization that the Ghost King was hurting. Hurting bad.

'You…' I started, but he had already begun to count on his fingers.

'I lost my mother, first of all.'

'Nico, there was nothing…'

'And then I lost Bianca.'

'Nico. Please…'

'And then I was an asshole for a year and a half and I don't know how many people died because I couldn't stop their deaths.'

'Stop.'

'And then during the war. Three people died while I was with them. Down in New York. You didn't know that, did you? Three. I was leading an attack against monsters and then a pair of dracenae killed my team.'

'Nico, reliving this won't help. Blaming yourself won't help them.'

'And I lost you and— I lost you. When you fell.'

'That was not—'

'And I lost too many to count during that war. And then I lost two when Nero attacked camp, and then I lost two more during the whole thing with Caligula.'

'Nico, please stop…'

'And then I lost Will.'

He drew a shuddering breath and I realized he was crying.

'Nico. Listen to me. Those deaths… you couldn't have stopped them. You couldn't have done anything. They weren't your fault!'

'I don't want your sympathy.'

'This isn't sympathy! Well… I do feel sympathetic for you, but what I'm saying is true.'

He stood. 'Thanks for the talk, Percy. I have to go.'

I grabbed his forearm. His eyes flashed, but I held on. 'Nico. Sit. Down.'

He glared at me for another two seconds, then sat. 'What.'

'I'm sorry about Will.'

'So am I.'

'But you have to move on.'

He slapped the table. 'Godammit, Percy, I don't want to move on! He was my life!'

'I'm not saying forget him,' I said, thinking at the same time how many people were looking our way and how very similar this was to like three movies I had seen. 'I'm saying move on. Don't think only about the pain. Remember him, not his death.'

'I do remember him.'

'Do you?'

His eyes widened. I let go of his arm.

'I…'

'Don't. Just think about him. Think about Will, and what he was to you.'

Nico

Will.

He was life. He was love. He was my exact opposite. Everything he was, I didn't have.

And he gave it to me. I felt the energy. The feeling of optimism, that anything can happen, that anyone can happen.

When he was with me, I was happy. I remember that. The feeling in my gut when he smiled at me, when he laughed with me.

The golden, giddy feeling of youth and health and everything that was opposed to death.

And I loved him.

And he loved me.

Will.

Percy

He suddenly blinked. Wiped his eyes again. I touched his arm, not holding him down, but letting him feel that I was with him.

'Are you okay?'

He nodded. Wiped his eyes again. Took a deep breath.

'Thank you.'

He stood. This time I didn't hold him back, but stood with him. He reached out a hand. I didn't know what he wanted for a second, then I grinned and shook it. He nodded to me, nodded to the guy behind the counter, and we walked out the door.

We walked in opposite directions. I was leaving New Rome, going to visit my mom in Manhattan. He was going towards the center of the city.

'Bye, Percy,' he said.

'Bye, Nico,' I said, and we walked away from each other.

The snow had stopped falling.

Well? Whaddya all think? You know I don't know until you review, right?

Farewell! Survive!