-x-
Act II: The Promise
-x-
The next time Jason saw Nico di Angelo, there was a knock on the door.
He woke up groggy, body aching from menial tasks performed for a senile satyr the night before and—grateful, actually, because he'd had another dream about Leo.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Jason's gaze wandered toward the drachma sitting in a small bowl next to his sleeping bag. October was coming to an end soon—making it a full two and a half months since the last time Leo and he were in the same room together. It would be so easy to just throw a coin and call, but.
Every time Jason thought about it, he chickened out.
Another rapt of knocks hit the other side of his door, and Jason jumped.
Knock Knock Knock.
Wow. Jason rolled his eyes. Son of Jupiter, Slayer of Krios—and greatest, Fatal Flaw: company.
The Gods could only hope that it wasn't Stephen the Senile Satyr wanting him to spread manure on an imaginary field in the middle of Los Angeles. Again.
"Come in," Jason said tiresomely. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the glimmer of the drachma coins and promptly shoved them aside.
The door opened slowly with a quiet creak, and Nico di Angelo stood there, hands stuffed in his aviator's jacket and the flesh of his cheeks catching sunlight.
Wait a minute.
Jason squinted. Nico di Angelo. Aviator's jacket, pale-but-not-undernourished face, sharp shoulders, droopy, tired eyes.
In his apartment again.
"Am I dreaming?" Jason murmured under his breath. Overhead, sunlight beamed brightly, like Apollo had brushed his teeth with Crest Extra Whitening today and felt the need to share it with the world.
The Nico-figure at the other end of his room snorted—quiet and deep, and an eyebrow raised in the air, flattening the pretty sunbeams just a little. "What kind of dreams are you having?"
Not very good ones. Jason ignored the voice in his head and gave Nico another once-over. "You're here."
"I am."
"Because…?" He'd rather not tempt the Fates with the idea of Nico leaving again, but years of quests and training made him numb to the RISE AND SHINE of the morning sun. Jason was pretty sure he could sleep through the next war if it happened soon.
Nico's nose wrinkled cutely, his eyes flickering with the slightest bit of disdain as they rolled. His hair shook with him at the smallest jerk of his head and lips curled into a grimace. "Stephen the Satyr was worried that you got eaten."
"Why?"
A dark eyebrow arched in the air, accenting Nico's facial expression of, Really? He gestured in the direction of DOA Recording Studios.
"Oh," Jason said dumbly. He scratched head and heard the soft crackles of static electricity in his hair. "I'm fine. Kind of staying under the radar so I don't have to go tractor tipping with him."
"You'd be amazed how easy it is to find a tractor in Los Angeles," Nico mused under his breath. His eyes took the sight of Jason in—once again dressed in nothing but his boxers, and hair that was radiating with electricity. Then—Nico squinted. "You don't have a bed?"
"It was a water bed. Complimentary or something." Jason rotated the knots out of his shoulders and touched his hair again. He shivered at the thought of what'd happened afterward. "Apparently a water nymph got stuck inside of it. Should have realized that the squeaky sounds coming out of the mattress were actually giggles. And then—of course there's the angry Cyclops boyfriend that thinks you've been feeling up his girlfriend for the past week."
"Guess I don't need to ask about your broken window then," Nico remarked.
The said window was above Jason's head and completely shattered. Stuck to the ceiling were various horn-shaped projectiles and a rock that looked like Marilyn Munroe. "I like the breeze."
Silence.
Nico snorted, and something tingled in his gaze. Mirth.
Jason couldn't believe what he was seeing.
He'd seen the tender way that Nico would talk to Hazel, taking in what he could as a big brother. After she controlled the Mist for the first time and passed out, he took turns watching her with Frank, stroking her hair and making sure she was okay. He'd seen Nico's rueful smiles and the miser that lurked beneath him every time Percy's name had been mentioned—even if at the time Jason had no idea why. And he'd seen that face—the one that was stricken with tears in a dark cave when his biggest secret was let out, and then anger. Ferocity.
However here they were, with a single sound that left Nico's lips that made Jason think was the most incredible thing in the world.
"You were there that day, weren't you?" Jason asked. His eyes narrowed at Nico's back as the other boy waltzed up to the broken window for observation. The other teen looked over his shoulder, ghosting the sunlight with his complexion. "When I went up to Malibu."
Nico arched an eyebrow. He stretched the word flatly. "Malibu."
"I didn't get to thank you for the apples," Jason said. "They were juicy. You could have handed them to me yourself, you know."
"Malibu," Nico said again, testing it on his tongue. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"You were there. In the shadows when I was talking to Piper," the blond repeated. His eyebrows furrowed as Nico's eyes glazed over, uncomprehending. "You heard what I said."
"What did you say to McLean?" Nico's tone dropped from a quiet murmur to a tight demand. His shoulders stiffened and his entire face scrunched into a glare at the boy in front of him. A rush of cold air blew through Jason, numb like death. The Son of Hades seethed, anger in his eyes. "What did you tell her?"
Okay. Ormaybe he wasn't there.
"I told her that I was looking for you," Jason responded instinctively. He watched as Nico's cheeks flushed with anger and refused the impulse to reach for the knife under his pillow.
In an instant, Nico's expression shifted—still wary, but looking more confused than enraged.
"I don't go around and tell my friends' secrets, Nico. I'd never do that." The blond kept his voice calm, his hands placed firmly on each knee. He almost wished he had Piper's talent to mediate, instead of saying all of the wrong words for Nico. "I swear—I swear on the River Styx that I will never tell your secret, Nico, unless I have your permission."
The stiffness in Nico's shoulders loosened, and his breathing steadied.
"I don't do that," Jason reiterated. "Okay?"
Finally, Nico's shoulders relaxed. His eyebrows knitted together, rigid, and he looked up to Jason like he didn't know what to do next—other than a grouchy, I'm still mad at you frown. The last time Jason riled him up like this, Nico had fled.
So…what was keeping him from doing this now?
"Why are you still in the area?" Nico asked finally. His voice deteriorated into a tiny sound, shriveled, and his gaze narrowed.
"Why did you bring me apples?"
"I asked first."
The elder teen stared at the other for a moment, taking in Nico's sneer. He was distrustful—and Jason blamed himself for tripping over his own words again. "I…didn't know where else to go." He rubbed the back of his neck and pulled himself to his feet—noting the quiet step Nico took back, if only to distance them. "I mean…it's no guarantee that you'd even come back. But I don't know where I could track you down if I left."
It was taking everything for Nico to wrap his head around what Jason had just said. His eyes shrouded over with an unreadable expression, face scrunching into a demeanor, torn between the stoic mask Nico di Angelo wielded at their first encounter—and the dents that made Nico more than human. His gaze jerked, searching for the shadows to cower in about the room. Finally, "Why?" Why are you doing this? Why are you still looking? Why didn't you quit?
"Because I'm your friend," Jason responded without missing a beat. "You go around from place-to-place because you can't find a home. I want you to know that that's not the case with me. You can always find me if you need to talk about something."
"Bullshit."
"You think I'd spend two and a half months next to the gate to the Underworld if I didn't think I had the chance to see you?" Jason's tone mixed with quiet humor. He extended a hand, waiting for Nico's reaction, and straightened his back. "I'm your friend."
Jason supposed neither one of them knew what to expect next. Nico's cheeks flushed with sanguine, bloody red as the apples that he'd eaten on the first day. His lips remained tightly locked together in a straight line, gaze wary as it inspected the blonde's hand. "I told you that you're making a mistake."
"I don't see it like that." Shaking his head, the elder teen placed his other hand at the back of his neck. "You know that if you run away, I'm just going to hunt you down again."
"You just said—"
"I know. I realized that I really want to be friends with you, but we never sat down and got to know each other on the Argo II, or share drinks and bond over camaraderie and all of that stuff. I don't really know you," Jason admitted. "But that's what getting to know someone is for. Just—Gods, Nico, just can it, humor me a little, and shake my hand. Please."
Gods was Nico stubborn. He reached up, a pale white, ghostly hand rising in mid-air before he faltered.
Jason refused the urge to groan. This was just a way to test his patience. "Let me prove to you that I can be what you want me to be."
The hesitation never left the Son of Hades' eyes. They stood apart from each other like they were sealing a deal to a binding contract. And—if that was what it took, Jason was sure he was willing to do it.
Unfortunately, the younger teen shoved his hand back into the pocket of his aviator's jacket. He straightened his back, standing taller than he did before, and looked up beneath tufts of unruly dark hair. A chill ran up Jason's spine, and he shuddered, as Nico di Angelo looked up straight in the eye.
The glimmer of the mad genius remained in his darkened orbs, with a speck of rueful mirth that wanted Jason to regret what he'd just said. Still, it was the mirth that got him—humoring Jason's words, but still consuming the thought anyway. It was an unspoken gesture of a challenge.
"Prove it," Nico said.
Good.
"The rooftop, fifteen minutes. Bring your sword," Jason said. He noted Nico's arched eyebrow and continued, "I want to spar with you." And maybe put some pants on, he said to himself with a roll of his eyes.
Nico snorted. Sure enough, through their entire exchange, Jason could see the tip of Nico's sheath peeping from beneath the jacket. He took a step back, swinging his legs until the edge of his shoe met the visible shadow of the broken window.
Before he could disappear, Jason snatched the boy by his arm. "Fifteen minutes," he repeated again. "Please be there."
They exchanged one more look—and like the first time, Nico disappeared.
-x-
Know the soldier, and know your team. It was the motto that kept Jason's head high back in his days in the Twelfth Legion. He had the advantage of knowing most of the people he'd grown up with in the Fifth Cohort, either as big brothers and sisters or as comrades before he became praetor. New recruits, however, he remembered were always tricky. They were either shy, cocky, or numb from the training with Lupa.
But as a soldier and a comrade, it was the quickest way to deduce the other person's strengths and weaknesses, and their personalities. He'd done this with Reyna on various occasions when she first came to camp—Jason remembered that well. She never smiled. She kept every compliment tight to her heart, pierced her enemy with her eyes, and move with perfect form like she was one of the roman soldiers in a text book.
Battle styles were easy to read among his friends, too. Percy was fluid like the ocean, swinging Riptide in openings he could find. His actual strikes were like high tides slamming into rocky cliffs on shore—and he always had a smartass comment at the tip of his tongue, whether or not they were on the battlefield. Annabeth spent a lot of time fighting with her celestial bronze knife (along with her new sword made out of a drakon's bone—she kept that as memorabilia, apparently, in Reyna's office in new Rome.)
Once the war was done, Leo and she constructed a new dagger—one that just like the original, she used like an extension of her right arm. Frank preferred long-rang with his arrows, but with a spear in hand, he handled brute force the same way Clarisse did. Hazel relied on speed and force, which she gained with the help of Arion. The speed, she relayed to Piper as she taught his ex-girlfriend—and Pipes used a combination of charmspeak and her dagger, Katoptris, when her enemies were stunned. She didn't like fighting, Jason knew. But hell hath no fury, when she had no choice.
As for Leo, Jason thought of him as a backup generator. Leo had options. One of the rare times that they sparred, Leo was hastily able to dodge most of Jason's blows and tinker with his tool belt. And when that didn't work—Leo used fire. In between each blow and bolts and nuts, Leo always added a cheesy or snarky comment.
(Ultimately, Jason loss—but at the time he didn't mind it if that meant Leo was grinning from ear-to-ear.)
For Nico, Jason knew the other teen had better control over his abilities than any of them on the Argo II. Jason himself spent nine months recovering his memories and figuring out what his body was capable of. With Percy's combined effort they were able to create an incredible storm—but it left them vulnerable and exhausted for a fairly long time. Nico wasn't too far up there in exerting energy—but he did it plenty better than Jason ever could.
(He entertained the thought of spending a few months training in the sky, but Jason doubted his efforts would go noticed by Jupiter.)
If Nico was bent on refusing every proposal of Jason's, then Jason would simply go after the other boy full force. Besides. A good swordfight would most likely do wonders for the both of them.
Thus, fifteen minutes after Jason brushed his teeth and put pants on, he flew out the window and landed on the rooftop six stories up. Examining the bare area (some TV satellites, a few beer bottles and a weird balloon animal in the shape of a wiener dog), he found Nico beneath the only square of shadows behind sunlight.
The younger boy had taken his jacket off, laying it gingerly on the ground next to him. Whenever he did that, the muscles Jason found always surprised him. Nico wasn't anywhere near as big as Frank—or Percy, or Jason himself. He had lean muscle that clung to his bones, and sharp, bony shoulders that would widen with age.
The guy was only fourteen, but he stood at the same height as Leo—and no doubt, would probably grow taller, too. Swinging over his back was his sword, and the cluster of skull rings adorned his fingers remained pale—sucking out the sunlight as it drifted in his direction.
Nico's eyes watched as Jason touched the ground. His lips pressed together and he stood flat on his feet. "You're wearing pants."
"Figured you were tired of seeing my boxers," Jason quipped.
"I'll miss the ducks." A wry frown curled across Nico's exhausted face and he took one step forward—yet still, remained in the shadows. He looked up to the sky, squinting like he was in pain and asked, "You felt the need to give yourself an advantage?"
Jason shrugged as he came closer to the other boy. His hand fell to the gladius around his belt and gaze narrowed to Nico's small square of shadows. "Besides. You have the most control out of anyone that I know. Giving you that plank means I might already be screwed."
"You have that much faith in my powers?"
"I do." Jason took in the sight of the stygian iron sword. It was three feet long, dark as the night, and seemed to suck the light out of everything as they spoke. Just looking at it brought chills through him. The sixteen-year-old could barely imagine actually wielding it. "This is an exercise that I started when I first became praetor. Sparring with your weapon of choice. You find out a lot about your new comrade when they're backed against a wall."
"Huh," Nico said halfheartedly. With his hands out of his pockets, Jason could see the gloves Nico wore beneath his assortment of rings. Maybe they were there to keep his soul from getting absorbed into the sword. That being said, he went to touch the hilt of his blade over his shoulder and took Jason in thoughtfully.
Instantly, Jason responded, "I'm not going to kill you or anything. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah." Jason unsheathed his gladius and caught the glow of sunlight against the imperial gold. "You ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be to take on the legendary Jason Grace," Nico replied. (Which was exactly what Jason meant—he now knew Nico's sense of humor involved mocking everything he said. Which. Uh. Wasn't a far stretch from their norm anyway.)
"Set. Go."
They circled each other, with Nico finally stepping out of the shadows. He almost looked like a different person with the light against his skin—but his tight-lipped expression remained. Silence. Jason's pulse beat in his ears, and they both waited for the other to make the first move.
"I know you think it's a stupid exercise," he said after a minute of their guardedness. "But at least this way you can let out some anger you have against me."
"While you go easy on me," Nico continued for him, his expression warranted. "And all of this is supposed to let you get a better grip of what kind of fighter I am."
"And what kind of person you are," the blonde reminded him.
"You're stupid."
Maybe so. Jason shrugged. "What's your favorite color?"
Nico gave him a look, like the elder teen was the stupidest person in the world, with a disbelieving 'Really?' behind them.
"Mine's orange," the elder teen said.
"Black," he responded. Then he charged for a first strike.
The sword in Nico's hand extended with the full intention of delivering a blow to Jason's shoulder. Jason raised his gladius to counter—and then, Nico disappeared.
In the blink of an eye, Nico's shoes touched the edge of the blonde's shadow and he disappeared into a silhouette. Jason saw his shadow move beneath him—and the next thing he knew, there was a blade at his side. An ankle looped around his own, and he fell to the ground, head slamming against concrete.
Wow, was Jason stupid.
He suddenly had a flashback to Kansas when Percy and he were possessed by eidolons and fought each other. They spent a good amount of time as new bros, but also as rivals, egging the other on since they were both "leaders" of camp. While Jason was concerned that he could have killed Percy, Percy had no trouble stating he could do the same. It wasn't often that you actually met someone that could challenge you. In Greek terms, they were two of the Big Three: Poseidon, Zeus, and—well, Hades.
Jason was really, really stupid.
"So you like to use speed," he speculated, orbs aimed at the sky. In the corner of his eye, he could see the point of the dark sword—and Nico's silently expressive smirk.
"Thanks for going easy on me," Nico said.
Wow.
To his surprise, the next unpredictable move of the Agile Nico di Angelo involved an extended free hand to help Jason up. The change was apparent, apart from twenty minutes ago when Jason declared he was Nico's friend downstairs. The younger boy was satisfied with the thought of one-upping him.
"I was right," Jason said as he stood to his feet again. The grip between their hands didn't last long—as soon as Jason was on the soles of his shoes, Nico let go. The sword in his hand tapped the ground, as though they were raising shadows. "You have incredible control over your powers, Nico."
Nico grunted. They both knew Jason made his mistake when the words, I'll go easy on you, came out of his mouth. But—"You're right," he said flatly. "Pounding you to the ground did make me feel better." The corner of his lip curled into a smirk, with the gleam of the madman in his eyes.
"Can you do it again?"
"Is that a challenge, Grace?"
Oh, Jason lived for challenges. "Best two out of three. You knock me down again and you can tell Hazel that you kicked my ass."
Albeit, he rarely swore—the word leaving his mouth caused one of Nico's eyebrows to rise in the air. Jason realized he had a strange reputation for being a goody two-shoes. Regardless, the smirk across Nico's face twisted to the other cheek. "Deal."
Round Two lasted longer than round one. Jason now knew better than to take everything Nico did at face value (which he should have known in the first place, he chastised himself for later), and took in Nico's battle style eventually. Stances he took reminded Jason of Hazel and her spatha—which made sense, given that the two children of Hades/Pluto often trained together. They both had speed—but Nico was definitely a master at feinting.
Twice Jason nearly slipped as he dodged the wrong blows. For someone who hated physical contact, Nico knew how to work his legs and twist around Jason like snake. He was more agile than Leo—with quicker reflexes, no doubt. Nico used his height as an advantage.
As for everything else—Jason took in as well. Nico's eyes were everywhere during their battle, taking in shadows and the arena around him. When he made a blow, a ghost of a grin would twist across his face—clearly invested in their fight. He was enjoying every bit of it. Jason doubted Nico'd ever had a friendly spar with someone. Percy was the next closest person to him—and that was like saying Jason was close to the brick that'd knocked him over the head at the start of the Roman-Greek Civil War.
Nico knew how to read bodies better than anyone else Jason fought with. During his spars with Percy or even Annabeth, they described Jason like the winds: flexible and wispy, but the force of his sword was like a storm slapping someone in the face.
Nothing compared to a spar like this.
Because—
ZZZZTTTT
—the only person—aside from monsters—Jason ever came close to electrocuting was Percy. Until now.
"Nico!"
Everything else was a catalyst of events. Nico had charged right, then feinted left, and Jason's first instinct meant jabbing his palm into Nico's chest and letting sparks fly.
The younger teen's entire body convulsed, his pupils shrinking to pen points and eyes widening to the size of two celestial bronze shields. He toppled backwards over his leg, sword dropping with a deafening CLANG on the ground.
Instantly, Jason chased after him, his trembling fingers going to Nico's neck to check for a pulse. The younger teen's shoulders and chest expanded in a hurried rhythm, mouth inhaling whatever oxygen he could.
"I am so sorry," Jason rushed. Despite everything, he gripped Nico by the shoulders and looked into the younger teen's eyes. "Are you okay? I—it was reflex, I didn't mean to—"
"So it's a tie," the younger boy cut off. He sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and curled his hands against Jason's shoulders. His fingers shook, trying to get a better grip. "Powers are allowed now?"
Pause. "Are you…sure you're okay?"
To Jason's complete and utter surprise, Nico's gaze once more glazed over with his dry, 'Really?' look. "You're forgetting that I've had you on your ass this entire round."
"But—"
"Glad to know that you're completely shocked at the fact you were able to land a hit."
"But, Nico—"
"Grace." The Son of Hades pushed Jason's hands off of him with less ferocity than Jason expected. A shadow tendril wrapped around Nico's sword and swam toward its master (a long one—Jason realized. They'd been fighting for what felt like hours.) Both of them were a little bruised, but nothing too damaging. "Do I need to do a dance for you so you know I'm okay?"
Now that they were stopped, Jason could feel an ache in his side. Nico was right—that thrust was the first big blow Jason had landed since their match started.
"You know how to dance?"
"It's called sarcasm."
"I know you know how to do that." Jason's heartbeat slowed, now that he knew Nico was in better condition. He didn't realize it'd sped up.
The curl of a smirk etched across Nico's face, piercing black eyes looking up to meet Jason's gaze. Beneath him, the shadows coiled around his feet like a living entity, reminding Jason vaguely of Jack Skeleton's bony arms. He wondered if being in the shadows had the same healing effect as being in the water did for Percy. If anything, it held the gusto of home and comfort—just like being in the air was a second nature to Jason.
On instinct he reached out to touch Nico once more—and curled his hands, knowing they'd only be batted away. Touch wasn't a privilege that he'd earned from Nico yet. The rigid look the younger boy suddenly gave him stopped Jason in his tracks—he'd been lucky before.
"I think I know you better," Jason muttered under his breath.
"Likewise," Nico murmured. Nothing else. He examined Jason—from the standard crop cut of a legionnaire that'd grown out a few inches since moving to Los Angeles, to the hands that'd dug into Nico like claws, down to Jason's legs. The last one, Jason had no idea why.
There'd been no tension toward the end of the last round; nothing related to anger that motivated their blows. The beginning of their second round held harsher attacks Nico made—probably everything he'd wanted to do to Jason since their moment in the cave. Since then, Jason saw a side of Nico that was rarely expressed—not as freely as this.
"We should get something to eat after this," Jason proposed. "I'm starving."
He didn't get a response—just Nico's eyes on him. The younger boy turned his entire body, finger curling into a quiet C.
Right.
"One more round, di Angelo." A grin split across Jason's face—he wondered just why he was grinning ear-to-ear. "No holding back."
"I won't go easy on you then."
If possible, Jason's smile widened. They stood apart from each other with orange light fluttering behind them. With the pulse beating in the blonde's ears, he charged forward to Nico—who melted into the ground.
What the—
"Grace!"
Before Jason knew it, he'd tripped over the ledge of the apartment building and went freefalling. He maneuvered his body, pushing the winds beneath him, and flew high into the sky.
Nico's small face looked up to him, eyes wide and jaw unhinged.
A giddy grin spread across Jason's lips. He blew a tuft of air—a quick gust that pushed the younger boy back. "Ready when you are, di Angelo!"
-x-
"You never told me why you brought the apples."
Later, after the sun set behind the landscape of the city, they went out for pizza at a small restaurant-café two blocks from Jason's apartment. Nico donned his aviator's jacket, muscles once more hidden beneath the coat after Los Angeles chilled for the night. It was no Christmas in New York—nor would it ever get that cold in LA for it to matter, but it was obvious that the jacket had a lot of meaning to it. After their last round, Jason opted for food—and was pleased, that Nico agreed. (It was more like Jason asking, and Nico making a face before lowering his head an inch.)
Nico pulled apart a cheese stick and watched the mozzarella stretch and dribble in between. His gaze rose to meet Jason's face—once again sporting the look that Jason assumed was meant just for him. "Why does it matter to you?"
Shrug. Reaching to their centerpiece, Jason pulled out another cheese stick and sprinkled parmesan on it. Not once did he lose eye contact with the other boy. "I like to know who leaves me fruit baskets in the middle of the night. It's kind of my thing."
The edge of Nico's lips curled into a smirk. The context was different from what Jason had seen hours ago—with eyes that examined him all the same. Somewhere in the years since becoming a demigod, he'd mastered reading bodies too well. The hint of a smile faded away following Jason's second onceover—serious, but not angry. "Los Angeles is a dangerous place for a demigod to be, Grace. For anyone. The entrance to the Underworld itself can latch onto your soul and drive mortals insane. Or worse."
"Explains a lot about celebrities," Jason muttered under his breath. He filled his mouth with bits of cheese as Nico scoffed. "Maybe that's what happened to my mother."
The rhythm of their conversation hiccupped. As Jason looked up, he was met by Nico's thoughtful gaze. "I thought you didn't remember your mother."
"I don't. Not personally." The blonde pushed the rest of his cheese stick into his mouth and leaned back in his seat. Flashbacks of what Thalia said about their mother returned to the forefront of his mind and he shrugged. "I've never even seen a picture of her. But Thalia told me she was a popular star in the 80s. She thought she was better than everyone else because she attracted the King of the Gods. Not once, but twice."
He explained the story as best he could—how after his mother had given him away, Thalia called the police on her and eventually ran away, fed up with their mother's antics. Then—the fact that she latched onto alcohol and died in a drunken accident two years before Thalia turned back into a human.
Eventually, Nico made a noise—some disgruntled sound as he wrinkled his nose and raised his eyes to take in the Son of Jupiter. "Do you feel the need to tell everyone about your personal life?"
Shrug. "Only the people I think have the right to know."
"And how do I fit in the scheme of things?"
"You're my friend. And if I'm your friend, then it'd help if you knew some things about me." As a second thought, Jason added, "And yes, you're one of the few that actually know. Piper and Leo know because they were there. Annabeth knows, but Thalia was the one to tell her. I'm telling you because I trust you."
"Gods, you're a chatterbox," Nico muttered under his breath. He fell silent, with a thoughtful expression across his face.
Not that Jason could blame him—it was a lot to take in when you were spilling your guts out to someone else. He never considered himself an open person, even before his memories were lost. Most of the days before coming to Camp Halfblood found Jason living in his head. There weren't very many people who could relate to you when your father was King of the Gods.
Being a little Greek and finding his sister had changed that part of him. Not to mention being with Leo and Piper—then Percy, Hazel, Frank, Annabeth—and now, Nico, who understood what it was like to be the descendent of a powerful god and have no one relate to you. Not like they could to each other.
"So about the apples," Jason said suddenly, remembering that'd been the center of their conversation.
The lull ceased. Nico snapped out of his trance, cocking his head to meet Jason's curiosity—before rolling his eyes. "You've got guts, Grace. Either that or you're incredibly lucky to be able to stay here so long unscathed. I've. Kept tabs on you since moving in."
Wait, wait, wait. "You've kept tabs on me?"
"Someone has to." This time, the younger boy glared, diminishing any surprise or shock Jason had and shrinking it. "Anyway, the ghosts have told me things. You exhaust yourself carrying out these duties for the magical creatures and take ill care of yourself."
Jason took ill care of himself? Jeez—
"I was on the Argo II with you, Jason Grace. Despite your feats, you're no Superman."
Jason froze.
"The Fatal Flaw of Children of Zeus and Jupiter is Power, like Zeus's power struggle with his brothers. Yours is somewhere along those lines," Nico continued. "You think that just because he's your father, you you're some superhero that can fix all problems. But it's the mortal half of you that supposedly keeps you grounded, so-to-speak. The apples were so you'd have something to eat, other than a few frozen dinners here and there." He paused for a moment, his shoe kicking at concrete. "They aren't much. But they were the easiest to buy, and you could eat them on the go—"
"They were delicious," Jason interrupted. He watched as Nico's face shriveled into something, as though the younger boy couldn't figure out what demeanor he wanted to express. "You're telling me that you put those apples outside my door because you're a nice person?"
Pause. Eyebrow raise. Jason really needed to figure out what to call that look.
"Right—sorry." He pressed a hand to his face, knowing everything he'd just said was utterly stupid. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jason let Nico's observations soak in. "I didn't mean it that way. I'm just—"
"Thanks," Nico said.
Um. "What?"
The Son of Hades' made another face, clearly not expecting his own interjection. His eyebrows knit together, cheeks flushing red in embarrassment at the sudden outburst. Biting the inside of his mouth, Nico slouched in his chair and stuffed his hands in his pockets. After a moment, he spoke again. "Thank you. For what you did today. For what you've been doing. The thing about me…my secret. I…I've never accepted it, but—"
"Nico, with or without that secret, if I knew you were hurting than I would have come to you a long time ago." Jason reached out to touch the boy on the shoulder—and then stopped. Eyebrows furrowing sheepishly, he shrugged. "It's just who I am. I hate seeing people suffer. And—I've seen the way you look at Hazel. I—didn't mean that 'nice' comment. I know you are. You're just a little…a lot misunderstood."
The younger demigod bit the inside of his mouth, dark orbs suddenly falling to his plate. He flushed once more, with the sanguine ripe in his cheeks. It wouldn't occur to Jason until much later that this was it—this was Nico trying. Trusting. Instead, Jason ran Nico's observations through his head again.
"You're right." Gods, was Nico right. "Sometimes I'm afraid even with all the power that I have, that I won't be happy until I get more. You'd think that saving nymphs and mythical creatures would be enough, but…" He trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence. Jason fiddled with his belt loop, his eyes falling to the ground.
Silence.
"Sometimes we're so busy being godly that we've got to find the right people to remind us we're human, too." Piper. Leo. Thalia. For Nico, it was Hazel.
Funny that of all places to remind them, Jason chose a mortal restaurant that was currently in the process of whipping up their pizza. Looking around the terrace, there were plenty of kids in their age range—some with textbooks, others with their phones out and talking in fast-paced voices. They had no idea how easy they had it.
"I've had you pegged wrong, di Angelo. Not even that. I just—I didn't try." Jason looked up again, catching Nico's startled gaze. He attempted a tired smile and ran a hand through his hair. "You've got amazing control over your powers. I'm jealous."
"I…thank you."
"Can you teach me?"
Evidently Nico's 'really?' face also came in handy as a, 'you're crazy' face. A flicker in the younger teen's gaze let Jason know that Nico was running the scenarios through his head before he finally answered, "What I learned, I don't think I can teach you. Literally."
No—Jason knew that. He also knew that in their last around when they exchanged blows that they were both exerting the equal amount of energy. Despite Jason's own endurance, it was enough of a struggle that made his body want to rest, rather than go out for a meal. Still.
"I was never trained by a descendant of Jupiter in New Rome. If there were any, I wouldn't know. There are too many territories in the sky for me to actually train." Jupiter had a wide domain—and along that, there were too many territories and deities that Jason would offend in the process of controlling his own powers. That was where he was jealous. Nico had the Underworld at his fingertips and Percy had the ocean. The Gorgon's blood that he consumed, especially, made it easier for Percy to remember everything more easily. Jason, on the other hand, was still fuzzy on his details. "I want to train with you."
"You're insane."
"I want to spend more time with you," Jason corrected. He crossed his arms, pulse beating again in his chest. "There's a difference."
Despite everything, Nico caved into himself with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He touched his shoulders to his ears, hair falling in his eyes, and blew the bangs out of his gaze before giving the elder teen another wry look. "I don't see it."
Neither one mentioned that it wasn't exactly a 'no.'
-x-
The next few weeks were spent together. If someone told Jason earlier that he would be able to carry a full conversation with Nico di Angelo, he almost wouldn't believe it. Most of what they discussed were the habits of demigods and tactics that were common between each child. As Nico had pointed out, Jason had major mastery over his powers as a Son of Jupiter—anything that Jason wanted, Nico couldn't directly teach him.
"It's not that you don't know the extent of your powers," the Son of Hades speculated one day. He sat next to Jason on a park bench, sucking the juices out of pomegranate seeds, one-by-one. The area they'd chosen was in a secluded space, covered by enough trees that no one would question where they were. (Jason thought it wiser not to mention it was a common make out place for teenagers when Nico suggested it.) "It's that you spend so much time in your head, thinking that you don't let instinct take over."
Jason arched an eyebrow, amused. He took the seeds out of Nico's hands as they were offered to him and popped one in his mouth. "You think you know how I think." It wasn't a question—Jason realized he had a fondness for Nico's speculation shortly after their first spar with each other.
The younger boy snorted. "Seeing as you never shut up about your personal life, I don't think I have a choice."
"Shoot," Jason declared. In the matter of three weeks, they'd gone from begrudging allies to comrades to—what Jason hoped Nico agreed—friends. Nico managed to visit him at least four times a week—whatever his motivation being, Jason was flattered to be a part of that decision. He'd spoken to his brethren in New Rome only a handful of times—each time with a request for him to come back. Leo had been pushed to the back of his mind for the time being—and talking to Percy was sporadic.
Knowing Nico's secret and talking to one of his best friends was a struggle. Somehow it felt like a betrayal of Nico's trust—something that Jason knew he didn't want to lose. So he welcomed the company of the younger teen and was relieved that he had a friend to share his thoughts with.
"You say that you trained in the Wolf House until the age of four, when Lupa deemed you worthy to make the journey to New Rome. Everything you learned at that point was instinct as you trained with the wolves. Informal training that allowed you to tap into the raw, animalistic side of you to survive. After that, you spent time with the Twelfth Legion." Nico's gaze narrowed, observing the elder teen carefully before continuing. "Then you got formal training. You know every text book definition to run a roman militia, and it took precedence over your powers because it's something you can do."
"And?"
"Losing your memories was probably the best thing that ever happened to you." The juices of the pomegranate leaked in Nico palms. He spun the fruit in his hands, letting the seeds collect at the tips of his fingers. "It let you rely on instinct again. You discovered your powers before you discovered your heritage, which made you whole."
Okay. That was where Jason disagreed. "Just because I have a better understanding of my powers doesn't mean that I turned my back on Camp Jupiter."
"Yet here you are. Neither at Camp Jupiter, nor Camp Halfblood—"
"Yeah. To find you."
"—urgh." To Jason's surprise, Nico's face contorted at the hiccup of his own speech. The younger boy's eyes widened, irises focusing on Jason at the corner of his gaze. He rolled them, refusing to mull over Jason's words, and halted. He was quiet for a moment, before looking back up to Jason. "Yeah. To…find me."
Had Jason been paying attention, he would have seen the tips of Nico's ears darken. Instead, he took the flustered Nico in as a whole—knowing that it was unintentional. Jason had no idea how, but Leo's bluntness had apparently rubbed off on him. And—well, Leo.
The more days that passed since that fateful night at Camp Halfblood, the more of a jerk Jason like felt for not contacting his best friend.
"You were right, you know," Jason muttered under his breath.
"At which part?"
"Power. I mean…" Leaning forward, Jason rested his elbows to his knees and twisted his brain until he could find the most concrete way to describe everything. "Heracles holds a bitter resentment because as a son of Jupiter, he had all of these expectations thrust upon him. He's right. Thalia changed her fate and devotes herself to Artemis now. She resented our mother and hates our father. I feel like I'm the same way. The thing is—I get what's expected of me. I became a Praetor, a leader in Jupiter's name. I have all of these friends, and I still just feel…lonely. Selfish."
"Selfish?"
"I got swapped with Percy because I was seen as the camp leader for Camp Jupiter," Jason said. The corner of his lip rose sheepishly and he tapped against his fingers—suddenly nervous. "I should be happy that I filled out Juno's prerequisite. But instead after the War, I've been spending my time figuring out if that's really what I wanted. I think I was happy with being at Camp Halfblood because it wasn't what was expected of me. But that didn't help either. I don't know what I want, so I feel…bad, when I can't be what others want."
"Seems to me that you've got high expectations of yourself," the younger teen said. He made a sound and slumped against the bench, legs apart. Peering from beneath his long bangs, he took in Jason's form once more.
Jason shrugged. "I'm tired of disappointing people. But I don't want to be selfish and…not try for them."
To his surprise, Nico's next sound was a breathy chuckle. Cocking his head to the younger teen, he watched as Nico shook with disdain.
"What? Hey—I'm spilling my guts out here."
"That's cowardice, Grace. You've given yourself two options here: go along with what is expected of a Child of Jupiter, and go along with what you actually want with yourself." Shaking his head once more, Nico picked the last of his pomegranate and flung the shell into the nearby trashcan. Three-pointer. His eyes flashed with an unreadable look and he focused in on Jason. "But you're stuck. You created a third option for yourself by deciding not to go anywhere. Any decision you make on your own will be considered selfish—you're going to hurt people on your way getting there, and you just need to accept that."
"But—"
"No buts. No, 'I think'-s. You're not Superman, Jason, your other half is human. If you want to learn how to master your powers with better endurance, then you need to trust in them more than what you learned in New Rome." Nico stuffed his hands in his pockets and eyed him warily. "You need to trust yourself more and go with your first thought."
For once, Jason didn't have a response ready for the other boy. In a few short words, Nico'd been able to examine what Jason couldn't. It was certainly one exquisite way to say, 'Bullshit.'
"It's," Nico continued—and he stopped short a breath before looking away. "It's why Percy left the war the least changed. He never did change. People just realized how powerful he really was. He knows fairly well who he is and never forgot. So few people can be that lucky." His last sentence tapered off into a whisper, and dark hair fell into his eyes.
Suddenly Jason wanted to do nothing more than brush the hair out of Nico's way. Nico slapped his hand away before he could try.
Uh—right. No touching.
"Jackson has an awful tendency to rely on dumb luck," Jason pointed out. He crossed his arms, recalling the story about how Percy had "outsmarted" Phineas in a game of chance.
"He can be incredibly stupid," Nico agreed. "But he pulls through."
Silence. It occurred to Jason that it was the first time that Nico had voluntarily mentioned the Son of Poseidon in their conversation—and so casually, too. He couldn't help but wonder why. Also—"Did you call me Jason?"
Nico made a face. "What."
"You called me Jason," the blonde reminded him. "When you said that I was in over my head with my decisions—"
"Sorry—" Nico pressed the tips of his fingers to his forehead and closed his eyes, as though massaging his temples. "I got caught up—"
"You can call me that, you know." Jason cut him off again, leaning forward to catch a better glimpse of the Son of Hades. This time when he smiled, he couldn't help the satisfaction bubbling in his stomach. "No point in calling me 'Grace' unless you're sizing me up, right?"
Another face to be made, another eyebrow to be raised. Nico put emphasis rolling his eyes theatrically and shook his head. "Jason—"
"You said it again."
"Ergh. Grace, this fascination you have with me is stupid enough. Don't make a show out of something that doesn't need to be a show."
"Maybe." Jason bit the inside of his mouth and watched the other boy intently. He thought to reach over and touch Nico's shoulder—but knew better than to mess with an already-irritated Nico. Still, he couldn't overcome the satisfaction that came with talking with Nico. Something about having the other teen there always made Jason a little more aware, a little happier. Every discussion they had left Jason more satisfied than the last. "But if we're going off what you said, then you're the first selfish decision I've made in a long time."
"Ergh," Nico said again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back to hide his face from the elder teen, like a sign of surrender.
At that point, Jason couldn't help it. He laughed, head raised with the throaty sound leaving his mouth. When was the last time he felt this good?
The faintest hint of a smile curled against Nico's lips, and that made everything all the better.
-x-
Two more weeks, fourteen more days with untouched drachma sitting in a bowl on the floor next to Jason's sleeping bag.
He touched them half-heartedly with bare hands. They'd become a plentiful pile from duties carried out for the local creatures. Many of them had opened a tab, exclaiming to Jason that whatever he wanted in the future—he got it.
Looking up, Jason's eyes fell to the charm that hung above the window of his room:one of Nico's skull rings. While it seemed like nothing, it kept a barrier around Jason's still-intact apartment to keep creatures away. The metal was an alloy found in the Underworld, near Pluto's domain. The ring radiated with magic aura that would 'ward off evil spirits.'
It wasn't much, Nico explained to him one day, but it would keep water nymphs from swirling around in Jason's toilet. That, among other creatures.
Callused fingers touched the brim of the bowl full of drachma. Beside it was a prism that'd been gifted to Jason by one Coach Hedge, for "having chutzpah." What to say…what to say…
"You get Hazel's message?"
Jason cocked his head. The Son of Hades stood at the other side of his open door, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes narrowing straight to the elder boy.
"Nico—hi." Pushing the bowl away from himself, Jason turned to face the other teen and offered a tired smile. He touched the back of his head and leaned back in his seat. "Didn't hear you come in." Man, the guy really needed a bell around his neck.
Nico's expression contorted with a mixture of amusement and nonchalance. Somewhere in the past few months, blonde assumed that Nico was just disappointed that popping up on Jason didn't scare him anymore. "Do you ever?"
"Good point." A flood of relief suddenly drowned Jason's pulse and he patted the area next to him for Nico to sit. "What's up?"
The other teen looked around the room like he always did. Stepping forward, Nico plopped down across from Jason with his hands still stuffed in his pockets. Something about his expression caused Jason to forget what he was going to do earlier. "You get Hazel's message?"
"What? Yeah." Nodding carefully, Jason crossed his arms and offered up half a smile. "She's planning on throwing a Thanksgiving celebration. Reyna offered her approval and arranged for one of the houses in New Rome to be rented out for the seven of us, you, her, and…well, anyone else who wants to go."
"Right." Nico looked down and bit the inside of his mouth. He wanted to say something, Jason realized. Jason couldn't read bodies as well as Nico could, but the months they spent hanging out let Jason read the other boy better.
"You should go." The other half of Jason's smile twisted upward and he watched the other teen carefully. "It'll be the first holiday you guys get to spend together. This time of year is all about family. Besides—she seemed really excited about making shrimp gumbo. One of us has to go and tell her how delicious it is."
"So you're not going?"
Ah. "Sorry. No." Shaking his head, Jason's fingers curled against his bicep. Thanksgiving and Christmas technically weren't Roman holidays, but there was always a flood of halfbloods each year that were raised by their mortal parents with those celebrations. He already missed the Plebian Games and Epulum Jovis. While he considered the Fifth Cohort family, they all had some sort of siblings who consoled or kept them company. The most memorable Christmas he had was the first year Reyna came to Camp Jupiter, where he kept her company so being lonely was less unbearable. "I'm not really big on the holidays."
Evidently that was one characteristic Nico didn't expect. He made another face, his lips contorting. Jason could almost make out a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "Oh."
"But you should still go," Jason insisted. "She's your sister, the only family you have left. I want you to have fun."
He had no idea why Nico was upset at the thought of him not going. It was enough for Jason to change his mind, just to appease him—but with everything going on—Piper's judgment, Percy being there—Jason doubted he would've been good company. Still, Nico suddenly looked sick to his stomach.
"I think," the younger teen muttered, looking a little green, "I'm going to tell Hazel that I'm gay."
Pause. "Really?"
It was the first time Nico'd used the word since their run-in with Cupid. Since—ever. The word sounded foreign on Nico's tongue, almost intrusive. Saying it looked like it took a lot more effort than conjuring all of the shadows in the state of California.
The younger boy shifted the weight off his feet and stared at the ground. "She's my sister. She deserves to know. I. I want her to know."
"Do you want me to be there with you—?"
"No. Yes. I." Nico seethed and ducked his head. "I need to be alone with her so I can tell her, otherwise I might chicken out. But." This time his voice fell completely, his eyes flickering sullenly. Getting the words out right now was already hard enough on him.
"But?" Jason stood to his feet and placed himself beside the other boy.
Nico was shaking.
Gods.
"Hey. Hey," Jason said again. Biting the inside of his mouth, he reached out and gripped both of Nico's shoulders firmly. He brushed a finger beneath Nico's jaw line, forcing the younger teen to look up to him. An action like that would have been met with an immediate slap to the arm, but Nico was evidently too distraught to care.
Dark eyes looked up to him, their irises filled with the color of stone. For once they weren't the eyes of a mad genius—but of a very scared young man.
"If you're not ready to tell Hazel, it doesn't make you any lesser of a man. The fact is that you're thinking about it and that you want to tell her." Jason squeezed the boy's shoulder and he parted his lips into a small smile. "Whatever you do decide, you're the bravest person that I know, Nico. Okay?"
A harsh breath tumbled out of Nico's lips. He looked down to the ground again, his shoulders shaking from nerves and fear to the point that the shadows of the room were dancing around with them. "I'm going to tell her."
"I'll be there with you."
"No. I." Nico grew quiet again and his gaze met Jason's, cheeks flushed with a mixture of green and red. "If it doesn't go as planned…I'd like to come here. To you."
Oh. "Are you sure?"
To his surprise, an anxious smile spread across Nico's face. The decision itself had drained Nico far too emotionally, but Jason knew this was the face of someone who wouldn't back down. A dark eyebrow rose in the air—and the signature look Jason was so used to seeing appeared on Nico's face. "Where else would I go?"
Jason's heart skipped a beat. It was so…incredible, how much Nico trusted him. Without another thought, he retrieved the small bowl next to his sleeping bag and extended it to the younger boy. "Here."
Looking at them skeptically, Nico's eyebrows raised beneath his hair. "Why?"
"Iris Message me as many times as you need to while you're there. I want you to be there for Hazel." Jason's eyes flickered with concern. "But if it gets to be too much, I'll fly to New Rome the first chance I have. I swear."
He'd been doing a lot of that lately. All of it was worth it, though. One look at Nico's demeanor and Jason knew he was making the right decision.
Long, meticulous fingers reached and wrapped around a singular coin. Nico's hand curled around it as though judging the weight of the drachma before he stuffed it in his pockets. From Nico's eyes, it was clear that the decision still scared him—but he wasn't shaking anymore.
"Thanks," the younger boy whispered. Looking Jason in the eye, he extended one of his own hands. "Thank you, Jason."
A smile graced Jason's lips. He shook Nico's hand without a second thought and gripped it firmly, taking in every bit he could about the younger teen. This entire visit had been about easing Nico's nerves—and hopefully, he did just that. Still, the younger teen looked ill at ease, like he wanted to talk some more.
"We can grab a bite to eat, if you want," the Son of Jupiter said. "We can talk about it some more if you want."
"Not right now. I have stuff to do." Shifting uncomfortably from converse-to-converse, Nico's eyes suddenly fell to the tips of his toes. Stuffing his hands back in his pockets, he shrugged. "How about in an hour?"
"Yeah. Sure." Jason smiled once more and crossed his arms. "I'll be waiting."
"Right." The younger boy nodded tensely. He hesitated—before stepping into a shadow and disappearing.
Ten minutes later found Jason sitting on his sleeping bag once more, with a spray bottle on one side of him and the prism and bowl of drachma on the other side. He tapped a coin to the floor board, with his heart leaping in his throat.
Finally, he took the plunge.
If Nico could face his biggest fear, then Jason had no right to be nervous over this. Right.
Wrapping his fingers around the squirt bottle, Jason gave the trigger three quick squeezes and tossed the drachma. "Oh Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering."
The mist remained, a rainbow glittering in the setting sun while the coin disappeared.
Biting his lip, Jason forced himself to talk. "Show me Leo Valdez."
The tuft of mist shimmered with an assortment of colors before morphing into the shape of…a room. Jason made out curtained windows, with a pile of dirty clothes on the floor and textbooks on a desk that look like they'd never been touched in their lifetime.
Where was Leo?
Finally, the scene focused on a lump covered in the bed—
"Jason?"
"Percy?" Disbelief soaked Jason's words and he leaned forward, taking in the sight before him. From the looks of things, Jason had somehow Iris-Messaged Percy's room.
Sleepy sea green eyes watched him, with dark hair that stuck out in cowlicks. Percy rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes and yawned before stretching. "Hey. Didn't expect for you to call. What do you need?"
"Well." Jason touched the back of his neck and felt weird. It wasn't possible for a goddess to be wrong about her job. Was it? "I meant to Iris Message Leo, but I guess…wrong number?"
The Son of Poseidon watched him from the other side of the Iris Message with bleary eyes. He scratched his belly and made smacking noises with his mouth like an old man. Clearly, Percy must have been in the middle of a fantastic night's sleep.
Then—out of nowhere, Percy tapped the lump beside him.
A head of familiar curls appeared from beneath the blanket, and Jason's heart stuttered. Leo.
For a moment, the pair was lost in their own little world. They exchanged tender looks, muttered quiet words to each other and touched each other gingerly by their shoulders. Not to mention that Percy'd been shirtless.
Just. What?
"I'll give you two a minute." To Jason's surprise, Percy's tired eyes turned sour, giving the blond a harsh look. For Nico's sake, Jason almost did the same thing. They sized each other up without a verbal explanation. Jason had no idea why Percy would suddenly look to him like a nuisance—but he knew very well why he'd give Percy the same look.
Finally, with one last meaningful look to Jason's best friend, Percy tore away from the bed. The quiet click of the door let them know that Percy was gone.
"Hey," Leo said tiredly, drawing Jason out of his thoughts.
For the first time in three months, Jason got a good look of his best friend. The wistfulness was almost overbearing as he got a good look at Leo's face. Everything was the same—the same chocolate brown eyes, the same narrow face, and the same flurry of curls.
He had no idea how much he missed Leo. Until now.
The quirk in Leo's lips remained the same—like an X-Acto Knife carving precisely against a wooden board. His eyes simmered with the same embers of mischief—reminding Jason of the same kid on the bright yellow bus to the Grand Canyon.
Leo smiled, and Jason couldn't help but smile back. "Hey."
