There were very few things that made Nico want to puke. One was betrayal. Failing to keep a secret or switching teams in Twilight or just plain failing someone as a friend. It made him sick to see it. And yet, there he was, a ten-year-old kid, running from the gods because their hero couldn't save his sister.

An hour ago, he'd been pro-gods, but when he didn't see Bianca climb over Half-Blood Hill, he felt so much betrayal from Percy, who swore he'd look after hi sister. His betrayal to the gods was justifiable and nobody could change his mind. Percy was very stupid to have gone back on his promise. Very stupid, indeed. He would get my revenge, but how?

He was in the woods of camp. They hadn't found him just yet, but they would soon if he didn't hurry. Once more, in his cycle of running and resting and then running some more, he got to his feet and ran for all he was worth, which wasn't that much, but he ran for it all the same.

Hours passed. Nico was convinced that he was running in circles in the dark forest. He was inevitably lost.

Still, he ran, until he tripped over the roots of a juniper tree. He didn't bother getting up. He was cold, hungry, and truly an orphan. That was when he finally broke down and cried, finally acknowledged Bianca's death, drown him in self pity. His head throbbed and there could have been buckets behind his eyes for all the tears shed.

He wanted Bianca to be there, to hold him and care for him and be the mother that he didn't have. But his last living relation he'd actually met was gone. Vamoose. Non-existent. She was dead, and he couldn't change that. He'd give all he had to bring her back, but he just couldn't. And so he held and comforted himself. He told himself that things would be okay. He became his own family.

He was so into his distress and sorrow that he hadn't noticed a girl come over, build a fire and start poking at it. It was only when she began humming that he realized anyone was there at all.

"Who are you?" he asked, wiping the tears from his eyes and sniffling a little.

"Hestia," the girl replied. She had radiant red hair, like the flickering flames. Her eyes were a chocolate brown.

The name sounded familiar, so he racked his brains to remember where he'd heard it before.

"You're the goddess of the Hearth," he said, finally remembering. He had her Mythomagic card and figurine.

"Yes, and you are Nicodemus di Angelo."

"What are you doing out here?" He didn't know why the goddess would trouble herself with an orphan kid in the middle of the woods. He wasn't exactly deserving of her.

"You are wrong, Nicodemus. You do deserve a bit of attention, you are worth the trouble. You play a very important role in the future, and you must realize that."

"Could you call me Nico? I hate my full name."

"Of course, Nico. Remember, no matter how bad things get, with the promise of getting worse, any situation can get better."

She faded away, leaving the fire behind. And something far more interesting to Nico than the visit from the goddess: a home cooked meal. There were a few hotdogs on a paper plate and a sloppy pile of baked beans. He ate it all, despite the fact that h didn't even like baked beans. It was probably the last food he'd see for a while.

It was probably then, Nico decided, that he'd never betray the gods. He wouldn't be like the doofus excuse of a person to look after his sister and fail. No. Hestia had shown him that they were much different than their moronic Hero. They wouldn't fail him.

Okay, so I wrote this a while back. What did y'all think? I thought it was pretty good for my first one-shot. Reviews will be accepted eagerly.

~Callie