Hi, yalls! It's me, the author! Okay, so, I have no idea where the heck this story will go, so just try to stick with me. Also, I have no idea when I'm going to update, so I'm sorry about that. I'll try to be- would punctual be the word? I hope so. Anyways, here is the story; Enjoy C:

Nico

A voice summoned him out of the darkness. Well, not the voice, although it was what had brought with it the "awakening" element. He rolled over, and tried to cover his eyes with his blanket, as a pale green light- product of the lamps that were placed around Cabin 13- flooded the space where he had been sleeping. Someone was shaking his shoulder, and saying in an almost- shouting voice, repetitively- "Nico. Nico. Nico. Nico, get up." Nico'd wondered if the voice would go away if he pretended to be asleep, somehow, for long enough. He began to assume not, after about 5 minutes of shaking and the chanting of his name. Finally, he'd had enough and kicked off the blankets, accidentally-on-purpose kicking the voice away too. He was then faced with a startled-looking character-, whose blue-green eyes pierced his, widened in alarm. "Ah, so the Angel of Death awakes. Chiron wants you, at the Big House." Percy said with a crooked smile.

Nico wasn't sure if he could deal with the mischievous, cute son of Posiedon. Sure, he'd told Percy that he'd gotten over him, but that didn't mean Nico didn't note the way Percy's lips turned up at the edges, the way his eyes seemed to dance with aquamarine light when something with the words "blue" or "water" were mentioned. Also, Percy was annoying him a little -a lot- right now. It was an unspoken fact that only Hazel and- well, someone else, could wake him up without being half-heartedly whacked to death by a tired child of Hades. Hazel was similar, ironically.

"Why is it always at this torturous hour that Chiron- ehm, "wants" us?" Nico said, a bit of melodrama apparent in his voice. Percy just shook his head, and then said, "You should go. I've been trying to get you awake for a while." He finger-gunned and made a odd noise that sounded a bit like "phssh". Nico just grumbled something unintelligible, along the lines of, "wuzfahkslaphg.", and ran a hand through his messy, semi-curly hair. Of course, it was tangled.

The taller ravenette looked back at Nico, laughed to himself at his likely disheveled appearance, and went back outside of the cabin. Of course, if Chiron had called him, it was obvious that Nico should get going, regardless of messy hair and pajamas. Who knew why, but usually when Chiron called him it was because of something urgent that apparently Nico, only, could figure out or solve. He understood, but that didn't mean he liked it. Nico assumed that the centaur was attempting to give the Seven, who would otherwise probably be the ones to do a large amount of the quests given to Nico, a break from the obnoxious, often tedious, tasks, after all they had gone through. Still, Nico wished, generally unconsciously, that he could have a break as well. Hadn't he gone through hell for the good of the camp, in intent, shadow-traveled the Athena Parthenos across a distance that normally could've killed him if not for the efforts of a certain blond healer, for the good of the camp, in intent, and so much more? He'd fought in the war as much as Annabeth and Percy, but he didn't receive as much of the relaxation after. But he tried not to complain.

Of course, he still expected for the people of the camp to suddenly start to look at him like that again- distrust visible in their eyes, as though he would attack the camp and a moments notice, as though everything he had gone through was for nothing- as though he would've ever joined the forces that had held him captive for so long, in such horrible conditions, left him within inches of his life. Perhaps that was the reason why he never complained, or why he never attempted to ask for but a day off from training, running around, taking new demigods around the camp, going to slay small fry monsters, and anything else that people needed the overworked son of Hades to do. Of course, over half of his jobs were from the Lord of the Dead himself, since Nico had pledged to help him out with mundane tasks like killing rogue monsters, but the camp had enough tasks to keep him busy as well.

Either way, he still got up and quickly shoved on a t-shirt someone had bought him - one that had a sun with sunglasses, stylized to a point of no return, and had the words, "here comes the sun" in curly handwriting beneath it. Nico wouldn't ever say it, but it was probably one of his favorites, what with its soft material and the embarrassing memories of who had gotten him the shirt. But that was another thing on a list of things that Nico refused to ever admit aloud.

And so he plodded on to what he had ascertained would be another boring quest or task, something that only ended up as an unintentional way for him to take his mind off of certain matters that he guessed would require his attention at some point or another, but currently he had decided to ignore. Only, he didn't know how wrong he would end up being on the matter.

As he drug himself toward the pale blue doors of the Big House, he spotted a blond someone, without glasses, standing quietly near the doors. The figure was fidgeting with a piece of something, and didn't seem to notice that Nico was standing a few meters away. Well, that much was expected, since it was pretty much way too early for anyone in their right mind to be awake, so the figure was probably still half-asleep, like Nico himself was. However, that only served to increase his suspicion about why the figure was there, in front of the Big House. He may've once said that demigods are suspicious creatures- Nico himself was not exempt from this measurement. He debated in his head whether he should call out to the figure or not. He decided not to, and continued on his way to the Big House.

It was only when the figure, which had once been wreathed in shadows, reached out and lightly tapped Nico's arm as he passed that he realized that the figure was a blond healer by the name of Will. A smile had lit up the taller's face as he saw Nico. Said person stopped, and looked up at Will. "Hey, Sunshine. Are you...here for the quest?" Will asked.

"Yeah. why? Are you?"

"Maybe...Chiron called for me but nobody told me why or...anything only that I should hurry, so that I could make a good impression on the other-oh. Uh, nevermind that last part. Kayla's an idiot."

"Ha- same. So, uh…"

The conversation, Nico could tell, was dying. He had spent 3 days in the infirmarary, just like Will had wanted, and then left. Sure, they might've become friends, or so Nico hoped, but how long would that friendship last until Will realized how scarred and broken Nico actually was? How long until that smile dripped off Will's face when he realized that Nico wasn't the brave, fearless leader of the dead that the camp seemed to think he was, at least for now. How long until the ecstasy of winning the war was gone, and Nico would be unintentionally sent away again? But all it really came down to was how long until he had to leave? How long until he felt that destructive, all-consuming pain of losing the people he loved? He knew it would be better to stay away from Will, if all that a friendship -or more, but he didn't want to hope- would end up in flames, with Nico sent away and Will...he didn't know. He didn't want to know.

But, still, here he was, looking into a smiling face, like he had so many times, and he couldn't help it; he wanted that smile to stay there, even if it meant ruining his own future. Will, being the dork he was, held out a arm and said in a British accent, "Shall I escort you to your destination, my prince?" Nico laughed quietly at this, and wrapped his muscled arm around Will's tan one, and allowed himself to be escorted inside to the Big House.