A/N: So this is the final chapter of my admittedly very hastily posted story! Thank you to all of the wonderful readers and reviewers, those I can name and those that I can't. EsterOfPersia and Werewolf Darcy, you guys are fantastic. Thank you both so, so much for you religious reviewing every chapter. You don't know how much it means - which is, quite honestly, a lot. You're both wonderful xx


Chapter 9: Ghosts of Samhain Past

Samhain began at sunset on October the thirty-first. As soon as the sun scraped below the horizon, the hour clocked the earthly-acknowledged beginning of winter.

For the demigods of Camp Half-Blood it meant night games. It meant rounds of trick-or-treat between the cabins guarded by the head counsellors. It meant dressing up in ghoulish outfits – though none quite so morbid as to resemble Greek monsters – and make fun of one another. Candy was consumed in droves, carved jack o' lanterns outfitted with candles, faux cobwebs strung and lights cast to decorate the grounds and illuminate the scene.

It was a mockery of fears rather than a sombre acknowledgement of them. Camp Half-Blood was a safe haven, an escape from the threats of the world that would forever be afflicted upon every demigod. No one had the time for sobriety, not when there was already so much of it.

When midnight struck, however, the true Samhain began. As one, the demigods dispersed, took themselves to their cabins and barred the doors. Food was set aside for potential undead who slipped through the veil, but it was more of a precaution, a distraction should those undead manage to escape the protections already placed. The rituals of Camp Half-Blood were different to the traditional, but they were maintained just as faithfully. All of it, the food, the retreat, was but a precaution, and only for the welfare of the sleepers that sought their beds. For at midnight, when veil was thinnest, the first of the ghosts slipped through.

Few stood to watch them arrive. Few stood alongside the children of Hades as they faced them, as Nico strode amongst the translucent figures ad uttered whispering words, grazing his fingers through their insubstantial forms to send them back from whence they'd come. There were men and women, children and elderly, those newly deceased and others that wore medieval armour or heavy Victorian skirts. Every one of them turned to Nico as he drew towards them, and like moths drawn to a flame seemed to seek the dismissal his passing hands cast.

The Ghost King, they called him. Samhain was one of the nights where the truth of that title was most apparent.

Only at sunrise did the tide of ghosts dissipate. It was a long night, riddled with mournful and regretful faces that murmured words that longed to be translated to those they'd left behind. They wouldn't ever be spoken aloud, never be heard by their intended recipients. Most of those they longed to speak to had already passed on themselves.

And just like that it would be over.

Nico stood in the middle of the Camp green before the hearth of Hestia when his stand was complete. He stared at the flames flickering before him unblinkingly, and to an onlooking observer may have seemed but listless and contemplative of the night before, even simply wearied.

He was not. Such things didn't play upon his mind.

Only Will stood at his side. Will hadn't left it for the entirety of the night, even as he walked through the ghosts. Such shadowing wasn't realistic, would have to cease eventually, but not yet. Will was a persistent person, and stubborn to boot. He wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

After that night, as soon as the first glimmer of sunlight rose and turned the remaining ghosts back to the Underworld, Will took Nico's hand. He held it with the force of someone intent on never letting go.

"You'll have to go back soon," Nico said, not sparing him a glance from Hestia's flickering flames.

"I know."

A pause. "It's not like you can just abandon everything. You have a life."

"Yeah, I know."

"College, friends, a job and a future. Where that is – you can't have both."

Another pause. Then, "I can."

"Will."

"I can try. I don't know how I'll manage, but I can try."

Nico turned slowly towards him, meeting the weary gaze Will settled upon him. "That's unrealistic."

"Maybe."

"You'll end up killing yourself."

"That, I won't. I doubt you'd let me."

"Me?"

"Will you abandon me? If I say I'll try?"

Nico didn't answer to that. They both knew what he would say.

"Just let me try, Nico. Just… don't force me have to try to forget again."

Nico's was the hand that squeezed Will's this time, though it twinged at the bruises dotting his fingers left by Will's grasp from the previous day. "I'm never going to force you to forget, Will."

Another pause. Another silence. Then, "Will you help me?"

"With what? I'm not exactly a med student."

Will offered a crooked smile that was just as weary as his eyes. Genuine, though. True. "I want to try to remember. Or at least to learn everything it is that I've forgotten."

"That's an impossible task," Nico murmured.

"Not impossible. It'll just take a very long time. And I'm hoping… that you'll help me."

It was Will's turn to squeeze Nico's hand this time and Nico didn't object. He'd pushed him away enough as it was. It was too hard to keep on trying.

More silence, but an expectant silence. When Nico didn't seem intent on filling it, Will turned fully towards him, took a step closer to draw his full attention. Not that he didn't already have it, even if Nico stared at the fire. Of course he did. "Nico, I know you don't believe me when I tell you that I know you. I might not be able to remember you, but I feel like I do. The feelings are still there. And I want that."

He stared at Nico intently for a moment and Nico, gaze drawn from the fire, couldn't look away. He'd never been able to look away – or at least not for a very long time. Will's voice was barely a murmur when he continued. "If you're not going to tell me – and I'll understand if you don't want to – can you at least let me try again? Make new memories. Start over, even?" A pause, then, "Please?"

What could Nico say to that? Only one thing really. He'd known even before Will had asked what he would say. Closing his eyes, he sighed. "We'll try."

That, it would seem, was good enough. For now.