Laughter and Truths


The next time Nico summoned her, the grave was dug out properly; the offerings a lot more substantial.

"Is that –" Hazel asked once she appeared, "- is that a Happy Meal?"

"I didn't know what you liked." Nico said sheepishly, rubbing his neck. "Is McDonalds alright?"

Hazel laughed suddenly; a clear, yet oddly hollow sound with her disembodied voice. "It's nice. I didn't know how much I missed fast food. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Nico smiled back.

"They were this one little burger place on 43rd Street." the dead girl recalled. "They really still make these things?"

"Ahm; yes, they do. I think it's gotten a little bigger since then."

There was a moment's silence. Then Hazel said "A lot has changed, hasn't it? Up there?"

"Very much." Nico agreed. "I still struggle with it, sometimes." he admitted.

Hazel looked at him for a long moment. Then she shook her head. "I keep forgetting that we're from the same time. You're- well; you're nothing like the other boys I knew."

Nico shrugged his shoulders, not quite knowing what to say to that.

"Is the Empire State Building still there?"

Memories of last summer flashed through Nico's mind; of the enormous battle that had taken place at the foot of the building. His father leading his army against Kronos. Percy slashing monsters left and right with his gleaming sword. A smile tucked at his mouth. "Yep. It's still there. Just about."

Hazel sighed. "I've always wanted to visit it. My mother used to dream of buying an apartment near the top, once we…" She bit her lip. "Well; I've never seen it."

"I can bring you some pictures." Nico offered. He was really not an expert on emotions, but he could see she needed some cheering up. He surprised himself with how freely he talked around her. "There actually was a big battle at the building last summer." he told her. "Me and father and – Percy and the others, we fought the titans. They tried to overthrow the gods."

"Titans?"

"The beings that came before the gods. Sons of Gaia and Uranus; almost as old as the world."

"And you stopped them?" Hazel asked in awe.

"Yeah." With a swell of pride, Nico began telling her of his (rather small) part in that final fight. His half-sister listened with bated breath – or the equivalent of that for a ghost.

"Your life sounds exciting." she commented once he had arrived at the end.

"It can be. Tell you what." Nico suggested. "How about we swap stories? I tell you one from my life; you tell me one from yours."

"There's not that much to tell."

"Tell me anyway."

"If- if you say so." Hazel's brow scrunched up as she thought back. "Okay, uhm; I have this – thing." Nico got the impression that a very different word had been on her tongue. The last time, she had called it a curse. "This thing where valuables pop up around me; you remember?"

"Hard to forget that."

"Once I made a giant ruby pop up in the middle of school. That caused quite a stir. I managed to sneak it out before the teacher saw."

Nico tried to imagine a giant gemstone casually popping up in the middle of Westover Hall. Then he imagined the faces of his fellow students. The image drew a chuckle from him. "Did that properly scare them?"

"Kind of." she agreed dejectedly. "I was called a witch even before that, and that only made it worse. Except for Sammy, none of the other boys wanted to come near me."

"I know that feeling." Nico mumbled.

"The thing is, they still saw these valuable things pop up around me, and of course they tried to get them. It was really hard to stop that. When I did, they said I was just greedy and called me names. 'Witch' was one of the kinder ones."

Nico cocked his head. "I got a few nice nicknames, too. I don't mind them too much. Some I actually like."

Hazel stared at him. "You like it when people call you names?"

"Hm. Most of them are so uncreative that it's just funny. My favourite was always 'Zombie Boy'. The boys at Westover Hall called me that a lot. Or 'Ghost King'; that sounds proper scary." That one was less a nickname and more a hard-earned title, but Nico wanted to keep the mood light. Hazel still looked sceptical, so he added "Think about it; the Ghost King and the witch! That sounds like an unstoppable team."

She snorted, her lips twitching. "Or a circus attraction."

Nico felt a strange warmth kindle in his chest. He'd never known making someone smile could feel this good. "Why not? 'The amazing Hades Siblings'! Dancing skeletons and diamonds; where else can you get that?"

Hazel leaned forward; she was getting into it. "'The amazing Pluto Siblings', please!"

"Pfff! If we're doing that, you're the junior partner at best. 'The Ghost King and his Tag-along'!"

"Beauty and the Zombie!"

It was probably improper to laugh your heart out within a crowd of dead people. They most likely didn't like that. There were probably rules against it.

Nico didn't care one bit.

After they had quieted, Nico caught Hazel looking at him with an oddly vulnerable look. It had flipped from her pretty, ghostly laugh immediately into that without anything in between. It was like she was scared he would get angry at her again and leave. He'd noticed that look a couple of times now.

She didn't know that at this point, even he'd wanted to; he didn't think he could leave. Hard as it was to admit, he needed these conversations just as much as her, if not more.


At some point, Nico began to tell her of what happened in and after the Lotus Casino. Eventually, that led to Camp Half Blood. And that led to Percy Jackson.

Without him planning to, Percy began to take up most of the stories he told Hazel. But, strangely, the memories didn't hurt as much as they usually did. For the first time, Nico found himself smiling at the memories of the son of Poseidon, as he relayed them to his fascinated listener.

The pain in his chest would always return afterwards, but for those little moments at least, he could be ten again and express his awe of the older demigod without feeling guilty or wrong. Hazel always listened, and never judged. And as he began to open up, so did she.

"He reminds me of Sammy a bit." she said after Nico told her of his encounter with Percy in the Labyrinth. "He always had a smart response for everything, too. It always got him into trouble. But out of it, too, most of the time." The fond smile that had accompanied the memory faded slowly. Her expression turned distant and sad. "Sammy. I wonder if he ever…"

"Sammy – your friend?" Nico asked carefully. She'd mentioned him a few times; only briefly, but it was clear he was important to her.

Hazel blinked back to the here and now. She shook her head. "My best friend. He always looked out for me. And…" She smiled hesitantly.

"And…?"

"He gave me a kiss before – before we had to leave." she finished hurriedly.

Nico nodded, turning away before his face revealed anything.

"It was my birthday." came the almost inaudible admission from his right "The day we left New Orleans. He made me so happy."


December the 18th had just come around; in the world above people were starting to decorate their houses and preparing Christmas dinners. In Camp Half Blood they would have erected the twenty foot Christmas tree by now, probably hung with all kinds of stuff you didn't normally find on a regular 'mortal' Christmas tree. Down in the underworld, there was just a bare poplar tree, without any leaves or decorations; and the only company was ghosts. It was a far cry from a festive atmosphere.

But after all they weren't celebrating Christmas; they were celebrating a birthday. And while Nico hadn't brought any tinsel, he had managed a birthday cake.

If it was possible for a ghost, Hazel blushed. "You- you remembered?"

"Of course I remembered." Nico replied, mock affronted. "Hey, maybe it's seventy years too late, but so am I. Don't hold it against me."

"I would never. Thank you." Hazel smiled brightly, sincerely. Happiness looked good on her. Then puzzlement sneaked into her expression. "But – why is it blue?"

"Uh, no specific reason." Nico lied. The truth was; he was awful at baking, so he'd had to call in a little help. And if that help came in the form of a person whose specialty was blue sweets, well, no one needed to know.

It made Hazel happy, and that was what counted in the end. The dead girl was wearing a dreamy look. "Sammy always remembered, too. The last time, he gave me a cupcake for my birthday." She smiled softly. "I think he stole it."

Sammy again. "It sounds like he really liked you." Nico ventured carefully, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy.

Hazel blushed. "I think he did. I liked him, too. So much. I just wish I could have been a better friend."

Nico diverted his eyes to the blue birthday cake, staring at the single candle. He didn't need a Sammy in his life; he'd always been better alone. That was what he told himself; forcefully, to stop himself from doing something irrational. Like getting jealous of a dead girl. He had learned to live with the sadness; but that would be one emotion too many to keep from spilling out.

A ghostly hand brushed over his arm, and he looked up. Hazel's eyes were impossibly warm for a ghost as they caught his. Nico felt like they were looking right into him. "Do you have someone like that?" she asked quietly.

"No." Nico managed the word without his voice cracking.

Her hand remained where it was; a light breath on his skin. Somehow elusive and steady at the same time. She held his gaze.

Nico cleared his throat. "It's fine. I've got my father, and…"

"You said you didn't need anyone anymore." Hazel interrupted. "Did you mean that?"

One of the first things he said to her. "Yes." Nico squared his jaw stubbornly.

"I don't think that's true." Hazel said gently.

"Why?!" It came out with more force than intended. "You don't know me."

"Maybe not really, but… You are talking to me, and you are nice. You didn't have to do that; you do care. And Children of Pluto should never be alone. You made me feel like I actually have a friend again …"

"That's different. You're easy to talk to. You're dead."

Hazel winced. "I know. But you need someone who is alive. Please, answer me a question: Am I the only person you're talking to like this?"

"Like what? I talk to a lot of people. Why do you think you're special?"

If Hazel was hurt by that, she didn't show it. "Nico." She rarely ever used his name. "I know you're good and kind, and you did so much for me. I just – I want others to know that, too." She saw him about to protest and hastily continued. "It's just – you never talk about anyone like- like they mean something to you. Except this hero…"

"I don't have to talk to you about everything." Nico snapped. "It's none of your business. And you don't tell me all, either. What about your mother? Or your death? You keep dancing around that!"

The girl paled. "Don't." she whispered, suddenly frightened.

"What?! I am the only one who'll ever listen to you, and you won't even trust me! No one ever does. Oh, but 'be open!' 'Talk to people!' Easy advice to give isn't it? Why don't you start? Tell me how you died; wouldn't that make for a great conversation!"

Hazel looked away from him. Her lips were moving soundlessly; no words coming out. She shut them forcefully, but couldn't stop what was happening: the confession would force its way out, if she wanted to or not. She looked close to crying.

The outburst had left Nico drained. As his anger burned down slowly, he came back to his senses. How could he yell at her? He knew better than anyone what it was like to have to keep some things secret. Hazel – she understood, and now he was hurting her for it. With a rush of guilt, he realized what he was doing.

In an impulsive moment he reached out for her, but his hand just passed through the mist. "You don't have to answer." he rushed to tell her.

Hazel's eyes jumped up, flashing, and for the first time, she looked angry. "Yes, I do; and you know that. Listen to me; you're not cruel or uncaring, but you act like you are, and that's so stupid; you're so…"

Nico didn't hear the rest of it. The image of Hazel flickered, like a badly tuned TV. Other images appeared before his eyes: a flat in New Orleans; a tall, regal man in a billowing robe; a woman, looking like an older Hazel, frowning down at him. She spoke, and it was in a sleepy, slow voice that didn't sound like it should come out of that mouth. "Pack your things, girl! You two will leave. Now."

Then the spook was over and Nico was only looking at Hazel's wide eyes. He stumbled back a step, not sure what he had just seen.

"I'm sorry." Hazel whispered.

"Not- not your fault." Nico got out. His head hurt. He usually knew better than to delve too deep into a ghost's memory. But this – this was something else. The memories were vivid; like that woman could have reached out and grasped him by the throat. That was the threatening feeling he had gotten from her presence, and a shudder went through him when he realized that wherever that malice had come from, it had been directed at Hazel. "Was that – your mother?"

Hazel nodded brokenly. Her anger had gone, replaced by the deep sadness that Nico had glimpsed before. Only this time, he was the cause. At least part of it. He felt like a monster.

He knelt in front of her, trying to catch her eye. "I'm so sorry, Hazel. I didn't mean anything of that, I just – lost control." It was a hard thing to admit for him: self-control had always been what kept him alive. "You never have to talk to me about anything you don't want to, okay?"

Their eyes met. Hazel blinked. Then, slowly, she nodded. A split second image of the woman flashed in Nico's mind, and he shook his head forcefully to dispel it. His sister's emotions were still in turmoil; she had no firm control over what memories would rise to the surface. But when she spoke again, it was surprisingly strong. Her voice only quivered slightly. "She was always angry with me." the admission spilled from her lips. "My mom. My father promised her anything she wanted, and she wished for his wealth. That's why I attract riches. B-but it didn't work. She hated me. It's a curse; to anyone who touches it. Called me a poisoned child…"

"But why…" Nico corrected himself, "What was that voice?" It had not sounded human in the slightest.

"The Voice." His sister shivered, from a cold she couldn't feel. "She possessed her… She tortured her. She k-killed…"

"Who did that to you?!" Nico knew he was strafing into dangerous territory here. Hazel's memories were powerful; so powerful that he risked getting sucked into them. But the Voice had sounded like a monster, and more than likely it was still out there. And looking at his sister now, Nico had a very strong urge to find it and kill it.

Suddenly, Hazel looked scared. "I can't talk about her." she said. "If I tell you, she'll find out. She'll hurt you, too."

"Hazel, we're in our father's realm here." Nico tried to calm her down. "Whatever possessed your mother, it has no power here."

Hazel shivered. Her eyes were wide and frightened as she glanced around at the cave walls. "No. This is her realm. And she is going to wake soon; she told me."

"Who told you?"

"The Voice. The woman in the earth." Hazel's eyes went blank. "She used me to – to…"

And within a second, the Fields of Asphodel vanished around Nico; a glowing, wet cave somewhere far to the north taking their place.