A/N: This chapter *points furiously* has been so long in coming. Really, it's almost a relief to have it written. I see this as sort of the turning point of the story - not halfway so much in length (I think the second half is a little longer?) but in content. I think. I don't know :p
Anyway, thank you to everyone who had commented. An extra special thank you to LittleBrawley because you are wonderful, and I adore your reviews. Thank you so much!

Chapter 10: Unravelling

Will would never get used to shadow travel. He got more used to it each time he experienced it, but even when he'd been travelling with Nico more regularly it hadn't been with ease. The stretching, squeezing feeling, the smothering darkness and the coldness of the void between spaces was disconcerting in an entirely unearthly way.

They stepped out into an evening scene. Or more correctly they fell out. Will physically tumbled to the ground, falling to his knees onto… sand? Grey, silver, white sand that was as fine as icing sugar and just as soft. He could almost feel himself sinking into it like quicksand before it packed firmly enough beneath his weight.

In an instant, despite his weariness, Will was dragging his gaze around himself. Scanning his surrounds for potential threats even though a solid, unwavering part of him knew that Nico would never drop them into the middle of danger. What he had taken to be evening was simply a scene in the absence of sun, illuminated by an ambient light of wan grey beaming down from low, swirling clouds overhead. The plains around them, sandy plains stretching as far as the eye could see, were broken only by a trickle of a stream not twenty feet away, bubbling happily in cool, dark ripples to the music of its own passage. It only took Will a moment to register where they were, a moment to recollect each of the other few times that he'd visited before.

The Underworld. Nico had shadow-travelled them to the Underworld. Why, Will wasn't sure, but…

He turned towards Nico and instantly regretted that he'd taken a moment to get his own bearings. Nico was crumpled on his knees beside him, face buried in his hands once more and visibly shaking. His back was curved so that he was folded nearly double, tucked in upon himself in the way that he became when he was upset, or scared.

Except that Will had never seen him so upset before. He'd never seen him so terrified.

Will could almost understand it. Or at least he thought he could. His own heartbeat had been pounding merry hell on the inside of his skull for the past hour or so, throbbing each time he glanced towards Nico and saw him fighting. When he saw the sweeping arcs of his sword as he swung in practiced motions, or the lunging, darting sprints as he flew to someone's aid. The moment when Will saw a drakon latch itself onto his ankle, only for Nico to slice it into dust a moment later, or when he had faced the bloody Dragon by himself.

Will had been momentarily frozen, just as everyone else had by the appearance of the Colchian Dragon. When it had finally reared itself above them, facing them like the ultimate foe of a boss battle, the superior to its offspring that lay in piles of dust beneath it, he'd been briefly immobilised. And when the Dragon had spoken, had lunged almost too fast to see straight at Nico, he'd screamed in pure panic.

Nico shouldn't have been able to avoid that crashing lunge. There was no way, in the fit of paralysis that had gripped them all that he should have made it clear. For a moment, Will had thought he hadn't. But then, in a swirl of black shadows above the Dragon's head, he'd reappeared in a burst of shadow travel, sliding briefly upon the monster's head and striking a blow that loosed a jarring, cracking sound throughout the entire region like splintering glass. Then he'd been tossed loose and Will had nearly screamed again, only for Nico to somehow twist from the snapping jaws of the Dragon, to dive into shadows before striking the ground in a way that Will hadn't even thought possible. And to reappear once more above the monster's head.

How did he do that? How did he do that? Will had never seen him use his shadows like that before. It seemed somehow different to shadow-travel, different to the conjured tentacles that he whipped around him like extra extensible arms. But Will didn't have time to even consider what it was or how he did it before he threw himself into support, into attacking the Dragon alongside the rest of his friends.

And then the Dragon had snapped. It had attempted to clear the forest in a single blow that had torn the tree from beneath Will like a flower plucked by a child. It had been more luck than skill that Will had avoided being crushed, smacking into the ground with a heavy crunch and only just managing to roll free before the groaning trunk smashed into the space he'd fallen. He'd only managed to clamber to his feet in time to see Nico, face ashen pale and drawn into an anguished expression, plunge his sword through the Dragon's skull.

Yes, Will thought he could understand at least a little of what Nico was feeling. Perhaps a lot. He'd nearly caved to his terror countless times throughout the battle, terror for the welfare of Nico, of his friends, and had only maintained his battle-ready stoicism with the knowledge that to crumple would endanger those he fought alongside. He thought he had a fairly good idea of what was going through Nico's head, but…

Nico looked a wreck. Will had never seen him like that before, so broken and unhinged, as though he were going to physically fall apart. Crawling on hands and knees towards him, wide-eyed and staring, Will reached tentatively towards Nico's trembling shoulder.

He'd barely made contact when Nico lurched backwards from him. He stumbled to his feet like a newborn colt, staggering and turning with his head still bowed and tucked from view. From Will's view.

"Nico," Will began, but his words were drowning in those Nico blurted forth a second later.

"Gods, Will. Gods, you're such a fucking idiot, I don't even – I can't even – " He gave a slight cry that could have been a sob but for the frustration that lathered it so thickly. "You don't even understand. Can't you just – why didn't you just stay away?"

Will was silenced. Not so much because of the words, though the force behind them that drove them to a louder cry than any Will had ever heard from Nico before caused him to flinch. No, the real reason he couldn't speak was because a moment later Nico had dropped his hands from his face, turned and looked him straight in the eye.

He was crying. No, crying would have been too small a word for what Nico was doing. Tears pouring unstoppably from his eyes, painting his pale cheeks that failed to flush with a hint of colour even with the intensity of his emotions. His shakes grew into shuddering sobs hitching and heaving as he was physically wracked with them. Will didn't even know if Nico knew he was crying an ocean of tears for his expression seemed completely ignorant of the fact. He made no effort to wipe his face clean of the mess that marred it, dribbling from his nose, dripping from his chin trembling as violently as his shoulders. His shoulders themselves were hunched as though he was attempting to fold in upon himself even in standing.

Will couldn't move. He couldn't even urge himself to rise to his feet but instead simply slumped on his knees on the sandy floor. Overwhelming guilt to the extent that he could never have anticipated coursed through him just for the sight of the horror, the terror, the sheer, mind-numbing and quailing panic in Nico's expression. "Nico, I'm –"

"Three years," Nico burst out. He was yelling now, though his voice cracked and broke, was warbling and thick with tears. "Three fucking years I made sure you stayed away from me so that this wouldn't happen."

"Nico, I'm alright. We're all alright, nothing –"

"Three years! Do you have any idea how fucking hard it was to stay away? How hard it was to leave in the first place? You were lying in that hospital bed and I didn't even know for sure if you would even wake up but I had to leave because if I didn't go then I never would have. Do you have any idea what that was like?" Nico's eyes squeezed, a hand rising to his head to press a trembling palm to his brow. "You said it hurt you when I left? Hurt you? It fucking – I didn't even – essa mi ha ucciso, Will!"

Will couldn't reply. He was caught, pinned like a rabbit in the sights of a snake, Nico's words ringing in his mind even as he watched him bodily shaking before him. He wanted to rise to his feet, wanted nothing more than to cross the short distance between them and wrap Nico in an embrace, to say he was sorry, to promise that he was never going to leave him, that he wouldn't let anything happen to them, to either of them. But he couldn't move. Nico was pouring his heart out for the first time since he'd found him again, and it was rocking him on the foundations of everything he'd forced himself to know.

It killed me, Will.

Will had always thought Nico had forced him aside. That for whatever reason, his actions of years before had been deliberate, intentional, and with the full weight of Nico's desires driving them. That was perhaps what had hurt the most out of the circumstances; Will loved Nico, had known even then that he loved him wholeheartedly, and yet Nico had left. He'd wanted to leave. Even with the knowledge of what was written in his letter, Will had felt betrayed by the one person he trusted and needed the most in the world.

Then he'd found Nico again. He'd found him, and there had been nothing but wariness from Nico. Will knew they'd both changed, had both been changed, but for Will at least his feelings had stayed the same. If anything they had grown more profound, more definite and more desperate. Will knew what it was like to live without Nico and he knew that he could not, would not, suffer it for the if he could help it. That he would always want to be with him.

Only Will hadn't had that option. Nico had taken it away from him, and continued to attempt to take it from Will every other moment that they were together. Will felt almost as though he had to keep a physical hold on Nico every second of the day otherwise he would simply vanish and leave him again.

Will couldn't handle that. He didn't think he could survive it a second time, not when he'd only just gotten Nico back.

But now Nico was turning his assumptions on their heads once more. Will had always been one to overthink things, to jump to conclusions even before all the facts were presented. It was a flaw in his logic, he knew, but he couldn't help himself, especially when enough evidence seemed provided for him to accurately make such assumptions. But apparently Will had been wrong. He'd been wrong in thinking that Nico had turned from him, that he had shifted his focus to something of more importance. Will had known from his words over the past week, had known that the fear for their friends had been a primary drive for Nico and Hazel's disappearing act. But the depth and insistence upon pursuing that end? The driving force behind it? Will hadn't quite fathomed just how great it was.

Nico had left for him. Entirely for him. Not because Will would get in his way, or because he would distract from that which required greater focus. Not because Nico would feel the need to defend him and as such would jeopardise his mission, though Will suspected – no, he was certain – that Nico would do just that. Nico was a kind person, a good person, even if he tried to hide that reality. He cared for others, though he would deny it within an inch of his life, and he cared for Will.

The war of joy, of love and devotion, waged against Will's guilt, his grief, his shame. He almost didn't realise Nico had begun speaking again at all, didn't register any of it at first and only after the switch back to English understood it was because he was spewing forth a torrent of rapid Italian.

"… nearly gave me a heart attack. What if you'd died? Cosa cazzo allora?" He was shaking his head fervently, his voice fading from a yell into wavering, straining croaks as he curled further upon himself. "We fought a fucking dragon, Will. A child of Echidna, uno dei più forti – one of the most powerful monsters in existence. What if – what would have happened if – se ero troppo lento – one more minute and you could have – voi quasi…"

He was switching between English and Italian in fluid jumps, apparently not even realising he was doing it. That as much as anything told Will just how upset he was. Nico had rarely been one to use Italian unless he was being sarcastic and taunting, always intentional and dangling Will's lack of knowledge of the language above him. That, or when he was too detached from his own words to realise. Tears were still spilling forth, pouring out what looked to be years worth of grief in endless gushes of pain that tightened his face and only made his skin seem paler by the second. He looked like a weeping ghost, the fierce grasp of a hand upon fringe only furthering the impression of anguish

"Come posso vivere se si muore?" Nico finally said, barely more than a whisper. Will's breath caught at the words, as they unfolded in his mind. How can I live if you die?

Then Nico collapsed. Like a puppet with his strings cut, his knees folded and he slumped to the ground. Will once more felt the compulsive urge to reach for him, to touch him, to comfort him, but something held him back. In spite of Nico's words, in spite of the sentiment and the desperate plea, he was frozen on his knees on the icing sugar sand. It was fear, selfish fear, that held him fast, fear that Nico would withdraw from him once more. He wanted to comfort him, to hold him, to tell him that everything would be alright, but what if Nico didn't want that? For all of his tears, Will knew he was still angry. That beneath the rising waves of sorrow, of hysteria, he was angry with Will. Despite his words, maybe he didn't want Will anywhere near him?

A beeping in Will's pocket sounded the arrival of a message. It chimed merrily, a stark contrast to the silence unbroken but for Nico's heaving sobs. They sat in stillness and silence, Will making no move to reach for either his phone or for Nico. He didn't know what to do – he knew what he wanted to do, but that was a different thing entirely.

His phone beeped again, and distractedly Will dropped his gaze down to his pocket. Detachedly, he wondered that he could even receive a message so deep in the Underworld. Maybe it was simply Leo's in-built mechanics at work again. Slowly, eyes drifting back to Nico's bowed head, his trembling curl that was nearly bent double upon itself once more with chin tucked from view, Will drew the phone from his pocket. A brief glance at the screen, just long enough to read the extensive message, was all he managed before his fingers dropped it limply to the ground.

Silence. Silence stretched between them, unbroken even by Nico's sobs that had faded into muteness. Nico wasn't a crier – out of the two of them, Will was far more prone to such. He'd never seen Nico cry for anything before, suspected that if he actually ever let himself do so it was in the privacy of solitude. It had hurt Will once, a long time ago, to consider that Nico wouldn't let himself cry around him but… perhaps he could understand it now. Nico laid himself bare with his tears, bare and open and bleeding in a way that he'd never let himself in any other instance. It was as though every last wall was torn down from around him, peeling back the doors of a gaping wound to let the darkness and sadness gush forth. This was Nico, completely vulnerable and utterly exposed.

Will wanted nothing more than to hug him up, to swathe him in a blanket and hold him close. To wrap him in a hold so tight that Echidna herself wouldn't be able to tear them apart. His own damned fear held him back, however. A fear of being pushed away.

"Annabeth… sent me a message," he finally said. Or muttered, voice hoarse. He hadn't anticipated it to be so thick with emotion, hadn't known that – was he crying? A hand raised to his own cheeks felt dampness there, a wetness he hadn't even realised. Swallowing through the tightness of his throat, Will tried again. "She said… she said that they're all okay. That they managed to defeat Scylla and…" He trailed off. He wouldn't tell Nico that Hazel had apparently passed out from exhaustion, that Percy had disappeared for nearly half an hour beneath the water before they'd found him once more or that Leo had broken his wrist when he'd simply refused to let go of the wheel of his ship for even an instant. Nico didn't need to hear that, not now. Not when he looked so broken and exhausted, barely seeming to keep a hold of his sanity.

It was apparently a good idea, however, to relay Annabeth's words. Before his eyes, Nico seemed to visibly sag, shoulder releasing their tension into a different kind of slumping curl entirely. He uttered another single sob that sounded more relieved than heartbroken. "Thank the Gods. Se chiunque… if anyone had…" Another sob and he dropped his face into had hands once more.

Will couldn't help himself then. He wouldn't have been able to hold himself back even had he wanted to. Nico could push him away all he liked but he wouldn't let him go. Will would embrace him, would hold him fast and would show him that he was there for him, that he would offer every ounce of support that he could. That even if Nico didn't want it he'd still be there. Crawling forwards, he reached towards Nico and in a single, encompassing motion dragged him into his arms.

Nico didn't resist. After the chill of his body, the tremors and sobs that still continued to silently shook him, that was the first thing that Will registered. Nico didn't push himself away and though he didn't return the embrace either it felt more as though he was simply too exhausted to try.

Will held him silently. He dropped his chin onto the side of Nico's head and nothing more. They didn't move; Will didn't even bother to try rocking the sadness from Nico as he would a child. Just the contact – it felt like enough. He just held him. And he waited silently, simply revelling in the moment that he could hold Nico. That he could at least attempt to comfort him, to convey his own sadness at the pain that he was feeling, even if there was nothing else he could do about it. He didn't speak, simply waited.

Until Nico spoke. He murmured something unintelligible, muffled by the press of his face into Will's shoulder. Will turned slightly, shifting his gaze towards the mussed hair at the back of Nico's head. "Hm?" He hummed, just loud enough to be heard himself.

It was tentative at first, so soft that Will didn't immediately notice. When he did it startled him slightly. Nico's fingers crept along the sides of his jacket, pausing for a moment just to hold, and then slipping inside. Will felt the tug upon his shirt, the tightness of his fingers locking into the woollen fabric. And he murmured once more, his voice still shaking slightly. "Ti amo, Will. Ho bisogno di te e… non voglio perderti."

Nico's voice rung and resounded in Will's ears, even softly spoken as they were. Will's breath caught as his thoughts hooked upon the words. He barely had a thought to register them, however, before Nico lifted his head, raised a hand from the fast handhold upon his shirt and cupped Will's face in his hand. He stared at him only briefly, a solemn, wide-eyed stare overflowing with feeling in the red-rimmed wateriness of his gaze. Then he leaned forwards and pressed his lips against Will's.

I love you.

Will's mind shorted as the words repeated in his mind, at the sincerity that they rung with.

I need you.

He raised his own hand to curl around the back of Nico's head as he felt himself sink into the kiss. A kiss, a simple kiss, yet so weighted with want, with longing with… Gods, Will hadn't realised how much something so simple could suddenly mean to him, how much he'd longed for it.

I don't want to lose you.

The Underworld seemed to fade around Will, lost to the reality of simply being with Nico, of truly touching him, of holding him, of knowing him seeping through his veins. The battle against the Colchian Dragon seemed to fade into disregard, the fear, the adrenaline rush, the sadness and grief and weariness that had followed. Even the thought of their friends, of those injured and wavering in recovery from the fight, fell from Will's thoughts.

Maybe it wasn't the right time or place. Maybe he should have waited, should have even urged Nico to take them back to his flat before he did anything further. But he didn't want Nico to shadow travel, and more than that Will didn't think he could wait. Not when he pressed his lips more firmly to Nico's and Nico, far from withdrawing from him as he had half feared, sunk back into him as though he'd been waiting his entire life to do so. Nico's arms wrapped around Will's neck, holding him closer as Will drew his own around his waist. The saltiness of tears upon his lips, lips that parted and allowed Will to sink into him, to curl his tongue against his own in a gentle caress and to taste his breath… it was all so familiar and so vastly foreign.

No, it wasn't the right time, nor the right place, but Will didn't pause for the thought. He didn't pull away from Nico as he bodily clambered into Will's lap, as though he were attempting to climb into his skin with thighs settling on either side of Will's to hold them closer together. Will locked his arms only more firmly around him in return, holding him closely and sure that never, ever would he let him go. Especially when he could make out the words that Nico gasped in the moments between pressed lips, in the brief seconds they paused for breath.

"Ti amo… Ti amo, Will… Gods, I love you. Don't ever… don't ever do something like that to me again…"

Nico wasn't expressive with his emotions. He'd never blurt them out, didn't verbally declare his love or affection. He didn't even confess when he was feeling happy, or sad, or angry or – no, if there was one emotion he did express, that he did verbally announce, it was anger. But even that was nothing like this.

Nico was tripping over his words, words that they'd never fully exchanged before Will had voiced them himself. They'd thought they'd never needed to, had never felt the inclination, but there was something about speaking them, about hearing them spoken, that was entirely captivating to Will. He couldn't get enough of Nico's low, breathy words, had to physically lean into him to catch them, to taste them on his lips, to draw kisses from the emotion of them that he hadn't had the opportunity to for years. The coldness of Nico's fingers on the back of his neck, the warmth of the slight flush in his cheeks as Will drew his fingers across his skin… the feel of Nico, the very smell of him, rich and close and entirely him. How had Will survived for years without him?

They had nothing that would have helped their situation, nothing that would have made it easier. Who would think of equipping themselves with bedroom supplies when charging towards a potentially deadly battle? But they made do. In a peeling of clothes, discarding jackets and boots, jeans and shirts until they were in nothing but their skin, Will hastened to discard every article of clothing that stood between them in an effort to clutch back at Nico, to draw them together once more. Even such a brief and necessary moment apart was too long. He grasped at Nico's waist once more, hands unable to touch enough of cool skin, familiar but from oh-so long ago, only to fall forwards with an uncoordinated thump so that he was nearly crushing Nico.

Pausing, the feel of Nico in all of his long limbs and grasping arms beneath him, of the heat rapidly flooding into his groin at the slightest contact, Will drew in a panting breath. He raised a hand to graze upon Nico's cheek, to sweep aside the sweat and grime-matted fringe that sought to cover his eyes and stare down into his eyes as Nico panted heavily and blinked up at him in turn. Will paused only to wipe the single remaining trickle of a tear from his cheek before leaning forwards to plant a kiss upon his lips.

"I love you, too. Always have and always will."

Nico didn't reply that time but for a faint murmur that was almost a whimper. He said nothing, but his arms tightened once more around Will's neck, shifting beneath him so that their legs locked together in a tangle. It was as much of an answer as Will needed.

Spitting into his palm and entirely blind to the crudeness of it, he reached down between them, propping himself onto his other arm as Nico adjusted himself. A brief fumbling and Will breached him, tempting a gasp from Nico's lips and a tightening of his arms that still wrapped about Will's shoulders unyieldingly. One finger, probing and prying for two, and then three and he couldn't wait any longer. He wasn't the only one. With another pause to spit, Will caught onto each of Nico's legs behind the knees, lifting his hips and lined himself up, and with barely another pause pushed himself inside of him.

He lost his breath in the same way that he lost his mind. To the clenching heat, the pressure of tightness, the feeling and the knowledge of contact that gradually eased into a welcoming embrace. Will groaned as he slowly thrust himself deeper, a sound mirrored by Nico. Slowly, gradually, gasping, he eased himself into Nico until he was fully seated. Then he had to pause, for no other reason than that he would surely break if not. With blurry eyes he gazed down at Nico beneath him, his fingers curling in their hold and squeezing for the familiar, glorious contact of skin.

Nico was gasping just as heavily as Will himself. His eyelids fluttered, head tipped backwards and an almost pained crinkle to his brow. He clung to Will as though he never even considered the thought of letting him go, arms and legs locked around him in a way that could have been awkward but only filled Will with warmth and overflowing love. Dropping a kiss upon Nico's lips and pausing because Nico simply demanded that he not draw away immediately, Will finally, achingly and with a sharp, overwhelming wave of pleasure, withdrew to thrust forwards once more.

Again, and again, his hips snapped forwards in a compulsive rhythm. Will found his breath gasping only shorter, hand pressed against the ground clenching in the sand as his other clung tightly onto the back of Nico's knee. His heart was thumping in his temple, a tandem pulse to the throbbing heat in his groin that only built with each rock of his hips. Pleasure curled along his spine, only enhanced by the moans and truncated cries that Nico uttered through lips caught firmly between his teeth. Will though he could have reached completion just at the sight of Nico like that – his head tipped backwards, face drawn in creases of pain-pleasure and eyes squeezed firmly closed. He arched beneath Will's thrusts, rocking his hips back to meet him even as his arms tightened only more insistently upon Will's shoulders.

They didn't last long. Will didn't care, not when Nico came in a cry at almost the exact moment he did. Thrusting with a final snap of his hips, Will uttered his own cry as the tightness in his groin exploded and ruptured, cascading in rippling tides of pleasure throughout his body and triggering every nerve ending to stand to stark attention. His vision flashed bright white, momentarily blinding him, and he rode out the waves of pleasure in stuttering then smoothing rocks of his hips, breath gasping raggedly into his lungs. With a feeble, jelly-limbed sagging, he nearly collapsed upon Nico.

Not that Nico seemed to mind. Far from it, he only wrapped himself around Will more tightly for his closeness, as vastly different to how he usually was in his surly disregard. Will dropped his forehead onto Nico's sighing as the pounding of his heart eased to only the speed of a galloping horse rather than the diving flight of a falcon. He breathed in Nico's panted exhalations as though they were ambrosia.

Slowly, finally, Will blinked his vision into clarity. He peered down at Nico from the tightness of his embrace, unwilling to draw even an inch away from him despite the potential discomfort that Nico might be feeling. Not that Nico seemed to mind either, that was. He didn't seem to mind at all.

Dark, slowly blinking eyes peered up at Will from the tangled mess of his fringe. Wide and open in a way that Nico so rarely was, and Will couldn't help but fall, utterly captivated, into their depth. With a heavy sigh, he tilted his head slightly to drop a kiss onto his forehead. "Nico. Please never leave me again."

"Mm," was all Nico murmured in reply. It could have been in agreement or dissent, Will didn't know. It hardly mattered. It didn't matter what Nico thought, what he intended, because Will had decided. He was never letting him go again.

The sky was beautiful. In the Underworld, there was no sun, no radiating warmth that drove away the shadows. Not that it was cold exactly - the air was stagnant, unchanging, almost unfeeling entirely. But the sky changed. It grew, curling in clouds of varying shades of grey from a deep dark to a pale almost white. It wasn't like the sunny sky of the mortal world, or the star-speckled blanket of night. But Nico thought it held its own beauty all the same.

The bed of fine sand cradled him just as would a mattress as he gazed up at the curling streaks of clouds overhead. That sand too wasn't warm, but neither was it cool. It simply... was. Nico liked that. He didn't feel the cold so much anymore, nor particularly registered heat but to notice when each extreme slowed his body. This ultimate in between – he liked it.

"It doesn't matter. It's not like it even matters at all."

Every inch of his body was exhausted, muscles aching all over and protesting the urge to move, but Nico did anyway. Turning his head slightly, he drew his gaze sidelong towards Will stretched out along the sand at his right. He too stared up at the sky, lying in a comfortable sprawl. They'd re-dressed themselves in their jeans and shirts slowly and neglectfully over the past hours with the vague intention of maybe leaving sometime soon. Maybe. They hadn't yet but they should. Probably. Maybe.

Nico took the moment just to stare at Will's profile, staring just as he'd found himself doing for most of the past hours when not turned towards the sky. He drew his eyes along the straightness of his nose, the slight curve of his lips, of his cheekbones peppered with freckles that appeared paler, almost washed out in the light of the Underworld. A slight frown settled upon his brow when he spoke but it wasn't the Wrong Frown. Nico was relieved to see that. He didn't like it when Will frowned like he had, angry and deep, or sad and grieving, or frustrated and agitated. This Will, so reminiscent of the person he'd been in the past even if Nico knew he was far from that person, was much more agreeable. Almost without his consent his hand tightened where they held onto Will's fingers.

"It does matter," Nico replied.

Will shook his head without lifting it from the sand. "No, it doesn't really. In the greater scheme of things, it doesn't actually hold any significance at all."

"That's because it doesn't bother you."

"No, it's because it doesn't matter."

"You personally don't have a problem with it but -"

"They're practically the same thing," Will sighed, turning an exasperated stare towards Nico. A stare that grew into a soft smile that bellied his chiding tone. "Butter and Nutiva are practically the same thing."

"No, Nutiva is a poor alternative for the underprivileged vegans of the world," Nico said.

"I doubt they consider themselves underprivileged. Veganism is a lifestyle choice."

"You're condoning veganism?" Nico raised an eyebrow. "You, who panics if anyone around you isn't having a perfectly balanced diet?"

"I'm not saying it's for everyone," Will said, raising an eyebrow pointedly in return. "I just think that if someone choses to pursue veganism as a lifestyle then they would have to carefully monitor their intake to ensure that they weren't damaging themselves unduly."

Nico snorted. "Damaging themselves?"

"Nutritional deficiencies are a serious problem. I'm not saying you can't be healthy as a vegan, just that it might be harder to have a well-rounded diet."

Shaking his head into the soft pillow of sand, Nico turned his gaze back up to the sky. "Regardless, I still maintain that the Nutiva coconut stuff is a poor substitute for butter."

"You would hardly even taste the difference, surely. Don't tell me you honestly sit their eating it with a spoon or something? Done some experimenting, have we?"

Nico shot him a sidelong glance, ignoring the teasing even as he welcomed Will's growing smile. "Have you ever eaten it before?"

"No, I eat butter."

"Exactly. So how would you know?"

Nico saw Will's mouth open from the corner of his eye before he closed it once more with a snap, shaking his head. He saw the growing of his smile too, and though he didn't let himself show it, Nico was happy to see it.

They'd been speaking of nothing and everything for hours now. Spoken as they hadn't for years, as they had both resolutely refused to do over the past week. The spoke of the inconsequential, like butter versus Nutiva, or whether Vermont was a better place to live than Long Island, or if they were truly the only people - people or monsters - in the vast stretch of the Underworld that they could see or if they actually had an awkward audience watching them just from the periphery. Will seemed unnerved by that, muttering something about being very aware that they were in Nico's father's domain and he really didn't feel comfortable enough with Hades to be caught in a compromising position. Ever.

Just as often as the inconsequential, as the silences that could stretch comfortably for minutes on end, were the deeper exchanges. The solemn. The thoughtful and pondering and questioning. Everything that Nico had wanted to talk to Will about but had held himself back from doing, because he didn't want him to think that he cared enough to ask, because it was embarrassing to do so, because there were other things to think about, to not talk about, that were paramount his mind.

That had changed. Nico had broken, in a fit of exhaustion and pain and terror. Horrifyingly, mortifyingly, he had shattered and broken into pieces in front of Will. The tears had come before he had even realised it and he hadn't been able to hold them back. Words had spewed forth and Nico had hardly been aware of what he'd said. He'd been angry and terrified, desperate and pleading, crazed in his frustration and manic because he'd been so scared. Nico didn't like to cry, but he couldn't help it. In the moment, in the relative privacy of the Underworld, he had let loose. He'd blurted out the emotions that had threatened to consume him in more of an unintelligible torrent of sound and feeling than actual words.

And he'd told Will that he loved him. For the first time in his life, Nico had actually said the words. It was the first time he'd said them to anyone. They hurt to be voiced, raking and grating against his throat at if he was swallowing nails but... he couldn't have held them back to save himself, couldn't stop himself from repeating. Not even if he'd wanted to, because they needed to be said. Will needed to know.

For the first time in so long, Nico had let himself be held. It was nothing but a clinging embrace at first, but that had been enough. Enough until it grew into more, at least. Nico hadn't even realised how much he'd needed it, how much he needed Will, until he had him entirely.

It had opened up the floodgates. When passion had settled into a gentle embrace once more, they had spoken. They spoke in a way that Nico hadn't for years, not with Hazel and certainly not with anyone else. Will had slowly pried, asking Nico where he'd been, where he'd lived, what he'd done. He asked with genuine curiosity that became less hesitant as the conversation grew, about how Nico used his shadows, about what monsters he'd fought and was it solely Echidna's children that hunted him or were there others? And apparently with greater concern than that he'd possessed for the defeat of those monsters, was he healthy? Was he sleeping well, or had it consistently been as bad as Will had seen over the past few days? Was he eating enough and spending adequate time outside - which Will sceptically suggested he hadn't been for his paleness. Nico had called him a mother hen more times than he could count and Will only seemed to grow more satisfied with each mention of the teasing nickname.

And Nico had asked him in turn. He'd asked of where Will lived now, of how his mother was, if he still kept contact much with the rest of his siblings. He learned about Lou Ellen's cafe and Cecil's inclination towards becoming a pilot – Gods help the world. He learned about Will's apartment in Manhattan barely a handful of station stops away for New York Presbyterian where he was doing his residency and how he spent little more than his sleeping hours within it. Nico asked and he listened as Will described his completion of his medical degree and his tentative inclination towards neurobiology - following in his mother's footsteps - but how he truly preferred working with trauma patients, with those rushed to hospital in an emergency and losing himself into the frantic, narrow-focused sequence of combat healing that he was so practiced in from his days as Camp Half-Blood's head medic.

More than that, though, Nico learned of Will's struggles. He didn't say anything expressly but Nico heard it anyway. He heard the truth behind Will's laughing disregard of how he swore he'd "almost failed my degree that last semester" when Nico knew he was as studious as they came and wouldn't possibly allow himself to fall behind without a reason. He heard how he vaguely referred to many of his siblings as though he hardly saw them anymore and hadn't really cared to know what they were doing with themselves. He listened as Will mentioned Naomi's nagging that sounded a little too sincere, a little too persistent. And he knew, even without being told – Nico had been destroyed by leaving Will, but Will hadn't been much better.

When Will grasped Nico's hand with more firmness than was entirely necessary given that they both lay prone and unwilling to move beside one another, Nico didn't object. It wasn't only because he knew Will needed to touch him, needed the reassurance that Nico had forcibly disregarded in the past because... because Nico needed it too. Just a little bit. Just this once.

Will's hand was squeezing his own once more, as though he was distracted with a fear-inspiring memory, a fear that Nico might lurch to his feet and flee or throw himself into the shadows without a word of warning. Even when he contemplated the validity of Nutiva as a butter substitute, he seemed unable to force himself to entirely ignore his concerns. Will had always been a worrier, Nico knew, always an over-thinker. Evidently time hadn't changed that fact.

"Hazel still has that habit, then?" He asked.

"Hm?" Nico hummed questioningly.

Will glanced back towards him, turning his head once more. "The Nutiva thing."

Nico rolled his eyes. It was almost an effort to do so - the physical exhaustion from the battle against the Dragon, the emotional strain from his following explosion, the lulling, encompassing heat of his reunion with Will in which they'd both kicked aside the walls that remained between them until nothing but rubble remained. All of it left Nico feeling bone weary in a way he hadn't felt in a long time, even with the constant presence of tiredness, of listlessness that consumed him. Yet even so, the light-heartedness of the conversation he now shared with Will seemed to alleviate that exhaustion, if only slightly. Alleviate it and replace it with exasperation.

"Yeah, she's still got it."

"Well, if it's as inadequate in its substitution of butter as you deem it -"

"It is."

"- then that's a sure a sign as anything that Frank is steadfast in his own stance. He maintains that it's more ethically correct to eat vegan stuff, but will go and eat an entire leg of lamb every other Saturday."

"Always organic though, wasn't it?"

"Of course. Ethical and all that." Will smirked up at the sky. "He's got his fixed priorities, Frank does, regardless of what anyone else in the world thinks on any matter. When he gets an idea in his head, he's like a boulder for all the ease you'll be able to move him. Same thing with what happened with Hazel, I guess. They're really alike in a lot of ways."

Nico turned to fully face Will himself, shifting slightly so that he rolled onto his shoulder. "He was really worried, wasn't he? About what Hazel thought of him, about why she really left?" Nico felt that familiar flutter of guilt that seemed to dwell upon the edges of his consciousness these days at the thought of his friends' concerns. Of their speculations as to the reality of how much Nico and Hazel actually still cared for them. Nico still had to wonder at times how they even could question it, because wasn't it obvious? But he couldn't reprimand them for their considerations when he knew his own were of a similar grain. Not open reprimand, anyway.

Will shifted himself until he was similarly rolled to more fully facing Nico in turn. "I think we all sort of were. Frank... he's been sort of at a loose end lately. I say he's set in his ways, but even he doesn't seem to know what those ways are anymore. Or at least he didn't until he saw Hazel again."

"And now?"

"Now..." Will gave an awkward impression of a shrug in his sideways recline. "I'm pretty sure Hazel could openly scorn him and he'd still shadow her like his life depended on it."

"That sounds familiar," Nico muttered with a raised eyebrow towards Will. Will only grinned a wide, crooked smile that was so typically him, so similar to the bright, friendly person that Nico remembered from when they were kids, that he couldn't even pretend to be scolding anymore. "Hazel couldn't scorn Frank if her life depended upon it."

"That's a relief. Frank does the kicked puppy a little too well."

"Are you speaking literally?"

"I might be."

"Hilarious. Your literal metaphors are as sharp as ever." Nico couldn't withhold his own slight smile that drew across his lips, however. "But seriously, Hazel would never push Frank away again. Ever. She was a mess for months afterwards. We hardly spoke for about the first year after she left unless it was about monsters."

Will's smile slowly died. "Really?"

Nico nodded, dropping his gaze to their hands as much to avoid Will's stare as anything. "You probably think I'm a bit of a selfish idiot for saying this -"

"Only always," Will said with the faintest of smiles to indicate he teased.

Nico paused, attempting a returning smile. He couldn't quite manage to brush the resurgence of guilt aside. "But it was hard. On Hazel," he clarified, though he was almost entirely certain that Will knew he referred to himself as well. "It's not exactly enjoyable to almost completely isolate yourself from the entire world. Especially for Hazel; she's always been such a friendly person. She thrives on company. Sort of like you."

"And you."

Nico shot Will a half-hearted scowl. "No. Not like me. I don't like people, remember?"

"You do like some of them."

"Not most of them. Just a very select few. I like being by myself. It wasn't really a problem for me, going days – or nights, really – without speaking to anyone." Nico tasted the bitterness of the half-lie upon his tongue. It was true that he was better at being alone, far better than Hazel was – or used to be, for she'd adapted and shaped herself where necessity dictated. But there were times when Nico felt the unfamiliar, overwhelming need to be with someone. With a particular someone, and in those instances he felt as debilitated as any other pathetic and desperately lonely soul.

"You're a liar," Will said quietly.

Nico unintentionally raised his gaze to meet Will's once more. He didn't want to show that he agreed with him, that yes, Will was largely correct in his simple words. "I'm not -"

"I know you're not all that fond of people in general, Nico. Not all the time, anyway." Will reached towards him to tug gently at Nico's fringe for no other reason than that he seemed to want to. Nico let him. "But being alone? All the time?" Will shook his head, grinding the powdery sand into the hair on the side of his head. "You really don't have to lie to me, you know. And it's okay to not want to be alone. There's nothing wrong with that."

Nico opened his mouth to reply, to offer refute where he had always done so in the past. Only for the words to die upon his tongue. Perhaps it was their setting, the tiredness, the atmosphere of honesty that in a lot of ways Nico sorely hoped didn't last indefinitely, but he couldn't bring himself to argue with Will's words. Not when they were said with such sincerity, without accusation, as nothing more than a tentative, off-handed suggestion.

Sighing a heavy breath, Nico briefly closed his eyes. He could have fallen to sleep if he was given the opportunity. When he opened them again it was to stare directly into Will's watchful, unblinking stare. The love and adoration that seemed to only grow with every second Nico met his gaze was as uncomfortable as it was welcoming. Even when Nico had professed his own love, even when he would have rather died than to see open disregard or dislike in Will's gaze – he knew that now, even if he didn't know exactly when he had discovered such a reality – Nico still felt uncomfortable seeing it.

"I suppose," he murmured slowly drawing the conversation from the discomforting topic, "that we should probably head back to them all."

"You sound so enthusiastic," Will said with another small smile.

"Not unenthusiastic, just... I'm quite comfortable here, actually."

"You and me both," Will agreed with a nod. Then they fell into silence once more, a silence of comfortable, simple staring in which Nico felt even less inclined to move.

Finally, however, Will pushed himself up to sitting. "You're probably right. Besides, I think it would do you some good to sleep."

"Speak for yourself," Nico mumbled without any heat. He couldn't quite bring himself to sit up quite yet. It seemed like such a monumental task.

"Oh, I do. I wouldn't mind sleeping for a week or two myself. But you," Will reached forwards and tugged gently upon his fringe once more. Nico wondered where he'd picked up the habit from, though he wasn't entirely averse to it. In many ways it was less intrusive than many of his friends' touches. "You should probably sleep for a couple of years."

"I doubt I'll sleep at all actually."

"Insomnia?" Will asked, even though he must have known from his previous questioning the truth of his speculation.

"Mm."

"We should probably do something about that," Will muttered, and Nico thought his words were probably more directed to himself than to Nico. Then he shook his head, less in denial than to draw himself from his thoughts. "Still, even just resting your body, closing your eyes and all that, will be better than nothing. Even if you don't sleep."

"I feel like you've told me that before," Nico said, finally struggling to push himself up alongside Will. He hadn't realised how stiff he'd become lying immobile for so long. The bruises and grazes from the battle were making themselves known and his ankle where the drakon had briefly latched onto him had begun to throb. "Maybe about a hundred times."

"It's the truth."

"I believe you, oh knowledgeable Medicine Man."

"Medicine Man?' Will gave a slight laugh that was more than a little incredulous. "You haven't called me that in years."

"I'll have to remedy that fact, then."

Will clambered to his feet, dragging Nico up with him in a way that was more of a lift than simple assistance. They spent a moment shedding themselves and one another of the clinging sand, perhaps a little longer and a little more thoroughly than was entirely necessary. Will paused with a hand laced through Nico's hair after a scrub that was more affectionate than cleansing. "You know, you should probably wear your hair back or something. Tie it up if you're going to keep it long."

"What, like you?" Nico asked, raising an eyebrow. Will's hair was exactly as it always had been, just long enough to draw his mess of curls into a short tail at the nape of his neck. "Are you a fashion guru now, then?"

Will smiled, shaking his head. "Hardly. I meant it more for practicality's sake. Surely it must get annoying when you're fighting, getting in your eyes and all that."

Nico shrugged a shoulder. "I've never really noticed."

"Or you could cut it," Will suggested. "Do you cut it? It looks like it."

"Yeah, whenever I can be bothered." Nico shrugged again. "I don't exactly make an art out of it, though."

"I can see that," Will said, though once more it sounded more affectionate than genuinely teasing. And delighted, oddly enough, as though he'd learned something of particular wonder.

Nico disregarded the notion and reach up to Will's head, gave his own hair a violent, unnecessary scrub in retaliation. Then he held out his hand in offering. "You good to go?"

Will paused an inch from grasping Nico's proffered hand, despite that he was still clasping his other. He hadn't let go of Nico's fingers for a second, not for what seemed like hours. "Are you sure you're alright to shadow travel us now? I know you're tired, so -"

"Will," Nico sighed, rolling his eyes. His mothering side was slipping out once more. "Stop being such a mother hen."

"I'm merely being the concerned boyfriend," Will replied, his smile easy even as a touch of genuine concern remained in his eyes. "If you're too tired now I really don't have a problem with sleeping down here for a while. I'll just send Annabeth or someone a message to let them know. You know we get reception down here? How weird is that?"

Nico shook his head at Will's words, even as he felt a flood of warmth seep through his chest at the mention of 'boyfriend'. They'd not declared anything officially, not really, even when Nico could only assumed they had fallen at least partway back into the relationship they'd shared before. Things weren't perfect, likely wouldn't be entirely stable and free of trials soon or even in the far future, but for now? That simple word was like an elixir to Nico's ears.

Shunting the sappy thought aside, Nico reached forwards and grasped Will's free hand. "You worry way too much."

Will glanced up from where he'd dropped his gaze to Nico's hand, a gaze accompanied by a smile as sappy as Nico's thoughts. "Only about you, you know."

"I sincerely doubt that. You worry about everything."

"Mostly about you."

Nico rolled his eyes, squeezing Will's hand probably a little tighter than was comfortable. "I might actually be able to believe that." Then, without another word, with a weary and almost painful beckoning to his shadows, Nico drew them from the Underworld.