Oh, Hades, I'm such an idiot, I'm not even finished with my other story. Well, it's too late now, so enjoy chapter one of the Valdangelo feels.


"Nico."

Ignore him. He'll go away eventually.

"Nicoo."

Don't respond.

"Nicoooooo."

Concentrate on the book.

"Neeeeeecoooooooooooo."

Shut him out, he's just bored. He'll bore of you too eventually.

"Neeks!"

THAT'S IT.

With a growl, Nico slammed the book shut, turning to face the hyperactive pyromaniac next to him. "What. Is. It." The son of Hades grit out, putting all the evil aura he could into it.

To his satisfaction it worked, and Leo flinched, as the temperature of the room lessened by several degrees. "N-nothing, I was just mghrmmrmr..." He trailed off awkwardly.

Nico mentally sighed of relief and prepared to turn away, but that stupid part of him that remained the old Nico was too curious to let it slide.

Groaning, he turned towards the Spaniard yet again. "What?" "I just wanted to ask if you'd take watch with me," Leo said almost shyly, before continuing: "Not that you have too, but between all the couples and being on my own I figured-oh, nevermind." The Ghost Prince stared as he looked away, then caught them both by surprise by answering: "Sure. Whatever."

Leo, startled, looked at him in confusion while Nico looked back, equally confused. Then he grinned. "Cool! See ya then, broski!" He jumped up and rushed out, nearly knocking Piper over as he ran.

–-

She entered the dark room hesitatingly, noticing that Nico had taken down most of Percy's belongings and stowed them away. He looked at her sceptically, dark eyes cryptic. Piper felt uneasy around him, to be honest. He was the only one on board who's feelings she couldn't read, and she had a feeling her charmspeak wouldn't work on him. It was no surprise she always felt a bit vulnerable around the admittedly younger demigod. As usual, the boy was radiating a wall of hostility, masking any other feelings he might've had.

"Mind if I sit?" She asked tentatively. He nodded, putting his book away with regret- his quiet afternoon of solitude had been interrupted. Damn Leo Valdez. "What is it?" He asked then, trying to not look ready to murder her. "I was just, um, thinking maybe we could talk about the others." Piper said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. What? Why the hell- "Why would you want to do that?" Nico questioned, glaring. Is she trying to trick me into saying I hate everyone or? The daughter of Aphrodite flushed, then explained: "I, well, I can read feelings and stuff, right, and you can read-" "When people are gonna die?" Nico snapped, enjoying the way she paled. "N-no, I meant thoughts." He frowned. So she had noticed. "I can't read thoughts. Just some vague ideas sometimes. Mostly fears." The Italian clarified. Her eyes softened, and Nico was suddenly and fleetingly reminded of another pair of brown eyes gazing kindly at him.

His throat clammed up and he looked away, stung. "Listen, Piper. I appreciate the question, and I honestly think it could be a good idea to discuss the crew and organize some kind of bonding or whatever. But at the moment I seriously just want to sleep." Though the girl looked surprised, she seemed content with the deal, and nodded, hesitating as she looked at him. "Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow morning. And Nico? You need the rest, ok, so please do sleep."

She left silently, closing the door after her, and the son of Hades felt a weight settle on his shoulders. Sleep...Of course he'd like some rest, what did she think? Strangely enough, he wasn't really happy with his current skeleton-like situation.
Sleep was impossible, however, as was eating. After the forced stay in that dreaded jar, not only did food make him feel sick, but he was scared of going to sleep. There was of course the fear of not waking up, but mostly, it was the nightmares.

Nico had been a child of war, and even all the way back, nightmares had been his weak point. First it was just war, then his mother came into them, then the monsters. He'd have been fine if Bianca-

If Bianca hadn't-

Died.

But Bianca had, he reminded himself fiercely, and so she was ever present in his dreams, dying and agonizing and blaming him and reminding him of just why he was so despicable. Her death, and their mother's death, and Percy, and how disgusting that was, on an infinite broken record.

Even then, Nico could've been all right. He was, after all, a child of the big three, a naturally strong person, with that mental force they seemed to share. He'd have pushed on, broken but ok, kind of, especially with Hazel, and then Tartarus had happened.

Tartarus had killed him. Once, twice, thrice, too many times to count. On his own in the deepest, darkest pits of Hell, Nico had pleaded with every deity he knew, been ready to sacrifice anything, just to get out. He hadn't gotten out.

Physically, yes. Mentally, no. Though he'd been slowly, ever so slowly reconstructing tiny fragments of Nico, most of him was lost down there, and another part with Percy. Nico's only night of sleep so far had consisted in Percy and Annabeth dying over and over, just like he had, and finally giving in, fading, joining Bianca in his Greek chorus of self-hate. Then they'd dragged him down with them, back into Tartarus, back, back, back-

Ofcourse Nico wouldn't sleep.

–-

Siggghhhh.

Why do I do this to myself?

Review, please?