Mnemophobia
Noun
The fear of memories; remembering; the loss of memories
He didn't know what to think at first. Whether he should be screaming and crying in joy, or just screaming and crying. So he just stood there and numbly let the memory wash over him. The first time it happened was on the Argo II, not moments after Percy and Annabeth fell into Tar- that place. His mother's calming voice. Her warm hand on his head. It's alright mio caro, it'll get better. He was sick in bed, not even 5 years old. Bianca was to his left looking worried. The sky outside was dark. And then he blinked, and the memory was gone.
He liked to think he imagined it, that it was nothing but his mind trying to comfort it's self, making stuff up. He knew it couldn't be a real memory, those were washed away in the Lethe. Gone. Yet, a small part of him hoped that maybe, maybe that wasn't entirely true. But, he had no reason to believe he could ever get them back, that the memory was real. The Lethe is a powerful river, strong enough to wipe the mind of a Titan. There was no getting his memories back. At least that's what he thought.
It happened a couple more times over the course of the journey, memories of his mother, Bianca, and the struggles of growing up in Italy during WWII. The memories weren't like Hazel's flashblacks, or like a dream. They were simply memories, something he just suddenly remembered. Slightly more vivid and over in the space of a few seconds, but they were just memories. Each time he pushed it back, dismissed it has nothing but his imagination. They couldn't possibly be real. But it kept nagging at him, always on the edge of his mind. The the more it happened the more he thought that maybe his memories weren't has far gone as he originally thought. And with this realization, this crazy and hopeless thought, many emotions arose in him. Hope, excitement, and maybe just a tad of happiness.
But they all left soon after, he knew after all, that it was impossible. But one emotion stayed with him, pressing down on him like a weight. Unlike the others, it was always there. When he thought that he could very well be getting his memories back, it was there, like a hot spike being driven into his very soul. When he dismissed the idea he was relived from the pressure, but only for a second. It would come again just as quick as it left, like a snake going in for a second strike. That all changed when they got Percy and Annabeth back.
He knew they would get out of there, survive. But it was still a relief to see them standing. But when the opportunity to leave arose, he immediately took it. Even if it did mean lugging a giant statue and two other people halfway across the world. Before he could leave though, they pulled him aside. Thanked him, saying that without Bob, they would've died. They told him how Bob rescued them, healed them. How he got his memories back, and for a second they were terrified, but he stayed good. And in the end, he sacrificed himself for them. They teared up and were openly crying at the end. Yes, he was sad at the loss of another friend. He had many great talkes with Bob in the Underworld. But that wasn't what struck him most, what sent shivers down his spine. No, it was the fact that Bob got his memories back.
Got His Memories Back
The thought made his skin tingle with the possibility. Getting your memories back. Something he previously thought impossible. But the unnamed emotion was back twisting a knife into his gut. He didn't know what to do.
The thought never left him, each new memory only reinforcing his theory. Once, he thought about telling Reyna, ask what she thought. But he didn't because it was something he wasn't sure about himself. So far he'd only had a total of 5 memories, if you would call them that. So he wasn't sure about anything. The weight never left either.
The war was hard, many died. But it wasn't as bad as it could've been. The Greeks and Romans were united, Gaea was gone, and there was finally peace. But that wasn't necessarily a good thing. After his infirmary stay, he had plenty of free time. And that meant thinking, about camp, life, his memories, Will. It was one day while lying in bed that he came to a conclusion. Named the nameless emotion. Came to a frightening truth. He realized that the emotion he'd been feeling all this while, was in fact, fear.
He was scared of both remembering and forgetting. A destructive mix. He was scared of his memories, but at the same time, he was scared of not finding out what his past held.
No, Nico di Angelo wasn't scared. He was absolutely terrified.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, sad.
I'll hopefully update soon. And I hate unfinished stories, so I'm not going to abandon this. Please Review! Bye!