AUTHOR'S NOTES: A bit of a filler in between – but if you want to get to the chewy center of the chapter, read on, I promise, there will be something sweet waiting for you.
High Windows Cast Long Shadows
NICO DI ANGELO
Nico's last two days in the infirmary went by in a succession of experiments to test his solidity as well as his reaction to different kinds of foods. In other words, he'd thoroughly cleaned and rearranged every piece of furniture in the infirmary and eaten every single type of food Camp Half-Blood had to offer, gaining ten pounds as a result. Now, as he brushed his teeth on his very last morning at the infirmary, he couldn't help but think back on what he had transpired over the last few days.
He'd established a pleasant friendship with Austin through music – at night, the son of Apollo would play some jazzy tunes on his saxophone while Nico lay on the floor, his hands waving about as if he were conducting an orchestra.
He'd taught Kayla some card throwing tricks, and the archer daughter of Apollo had turned out to be such a natural at it that she quickly started to outperform him, littering the entire floor of the infirmary with cards, which Nico felt compelled to pick up after all the hard work he'd put cleaning the place.
But his most gratifying takeaway of the entire situation had been learning how to clean, stitch and bandage wounds, how to calculate the appropriate dose of ambrosia based on the patient's level of injury and weight, as well as learning the theory behind emergency amputations and limb reattachment, as Will Solace had taken it upon himself to show Nico everything he knew within the short span of time he'd remain under his custody.
Will's custody.
Scratch that, his most gratifying takeaway of the entire situation had been learning a copious amount of information about Will Solace.
His likes (sitting by the infirmary window with his naked feet propped on the windowsill and catching the sunlight that drifted in, watering the plants, stitching wounds, bacon sandwiches, some band called Alabama Shakes, getting into heated debates with Austin about Star Wars, rearranging the objects inside the medical cabinet as if to check they were still there, recycling).
His dislikes (redressing beds, taking inventory, seeing people in pain, the word moist, mayonnaise, and strangely, amphibians).
They're always sticky-wet, hatch in the water but develop lungs when they grow up, they've got glassy, beady eyes AND they can kill you!
How on earth can an amphibian kill you?
They're POISONOUS, son of Hades!
Not all of them, just some frogs-
LA LA LA, NOT LISTENING!
His idiosyncrasies (raising an eyebrow before ever other word, the way he liked to suck on the end of his pen as he wrote, how he licked his thumb each time he turned a page of his book, how his eyes sparkled a second before he burst into laughter, how he licked his lips when he concentrated).
His scent (coconut).
His catchphrase ("I guess").
His triggers ("Isn't Helios supposed to drive the sun chariot?" which never failed to draw a [violent] reaction from him).
Nico smiled as he remembered the pointless conversations they'd had over the past 48 hours.
And their interactions – Nico well remembered those.
He remembered the way Will had stood behind him, close enough to radiate warmth into him but not close enough to make contact with him, as Nico practiced his stitching on a few unfortunate grapes (they'd ended up chugging the butchered remnants at each other instead).
He remembered how Will had returned to the infirmary looking pale as a ghost after going to the Hades cabin to collect some clothes for Nico, as if not being in direct contact with sunlight for more than five minutes had sucked out five years of his life.
Haven't you ever heard of WINDOWS?!
He remembered the knowing look Will had given him, lounging on the chair by Nico's bed as if it'd been a throne, when Nico exited the bathroom after having taken a shower the night before, as if he had known all along what had taken him so long in there.
Nico smirked knowingly and caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror. His face had regained its previous pallor – not that he'd been particularly tanned as of late, he simply didn't look like a corpse anymore. The bags under his eyes were completely gone, his cheeks had filled up, the gauntness having become a thing of the past. Now, wearing a pair of grey jeans and a black Camp Half-Blood t-shirt with a skeletal Pegasus on the front (and a pair of black boxer briefs) Will had collected for him the previous afternoon, Nico felt almost like himself again.
He remembered the satisfied way Will's eyes had scanned him after Nico had put on his own clothes, which Will himself had chosen for him, as if congratulating himself on a job well done, regardless of the fact that Nico's entire wardrobe consisted of practically the same type of garments in variating shades of black and grey. Yes, he was glad to be wearing his own clothes, he was glad to see the healthy version of himself staring back at him through the mirror. He really almost felt like his old self again.
Almost.
In many other ways, in many more important ways, he felt like a completely different person.
It was as if that night he'd been returned to Camp Half-Blood by the Fury Alecto had happened a hundred years ago.
The anger and despair he had felt that night seemed like a very distant memory, something akin to a legend he had heard about a random Greek hero from thousands of years ago, or even something he'd read in one of the holographic Mythomagic cards he'd collected as a kid.
It was hard to recall how distraught he had felt that night, and the night previous to that one, and the many, many weeks and months he'd spent suspended in that emotional limbo of confusion and shame.
Because it had been shame all along, he now realized, which had anchored him to a state of utter despondency for as many years as he could remember.
When most mornings he'd wake up thinking why am I still here.
And most mornings, after he'd woken up, he'd go back to sleep, thinking let it be tomorrow already.
And the same thing would happen again and again, until he felt like a mothball aimlessly drifting from shadow to shadow, unwanted, unable to find any kind of sense to his existence.
Lurching from dark corners to dark corners, he'd one day found himself in a bathroom with shared shower stalls, where three campers chuckled and joked with each other after a bout of capture the flag. They'd been faceless strangers, and Nico hadn't registered anything more than their asses and their limp cocks. But for a time, that had been just what he needed.
Until it wasn't, and he found himself at a different bathroom, coated under a different shadow. Time and time again.
How utterly lost he had been. How precarious his situation, he could see it now, as clearly as he could see his reflection staring back at him with eyes that seemed to seep deeper into darkness as his recollections claimed him.
The last time he´d seen Percy Jackson, his strong legs carrying him uphill, laughing as he walked alongside Annabeth, Long Island Sound glittering in the sunlight behind them – how he'd wanted to simply drown, halted only by his own knowledge of what awaited him in the underworld had he dared to take his own life.
The last time he'd jerked off in the darkness of his very own, balefully empty cabin after having shadow traveled to five different bathrooms, in the weeks following their victory over Gaia, trying to gather and mix together the details of all the naked bodies he'd seen, those naked male bodies he had spied on as those campers showered, how impersonal, how utterly unaware they had been – how the fact had momentarily engorged him as much as it had emotionally drained him.
The last time he'd talked to his father, the conversation they'd had right before Nico had found himself traveling back to the over world, had made him feel like he'd been suffocating, asphyxiating in mortification, and that overwhelming desire to simply disappear had taken over him if only for a second.
How very close he had stood to becoming one with the darkness to which he had desperately clung to all those years, day in and day out.
And then, then there had been him.
Then, there had been Will Solace.
With his glow and his light and his brilliance!
With his magnificent perfection.
With his lust and his own need for satiation.
In those stolen moments when he'd stood in the shadows, watching Will shower, Nico had wallowed in his own desire mingled with hatred and shame. It had been satisfying. It had been sufficiently distracting from his own lack of a real, corporeal destination. It had been enough of a map for a lost traveler. For he had been just that, a lost shadow in a sea of life to which he did not, could not belong!
Nico's mouth twisted, his frown deepened as he remembered, with much difficulty, the Nico he had been up until a few weeks ago. An unwanted. A creep. A drifter. An outcast.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with you!
A voice. That voice. His voice.
Maybe you're allowed to be angry, but you're not allowed to call yourself a revolting creep, not without cataloguing me under the same description, and I assure you, I am neither!
How could he have not seen it before? He'd been so drowned in self-loathing and deep hatred that he had failed to register he'd categorically placed Will Solace under the same shadow of loathing in which he'd practically been living all those years. Will Solace! The son of the sun, living in shadows!
Ridiculous.
Absurd.
Moronic.
But then, if Will wasn't a creep, which of course he wasn't, then what did that make of him?
What did that make of Nico himself?
All those nights the darkness had almost swallowed him, then beckoned him, called for him to join it in the ever so succulent, empty void of nonexistence, what of those nights? His mouth suddenly tasted like sour grapes.
How close he'd been to joining them. How very close.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with you! The voice said with much more strength. It yelled in Nico's mind with an echo of such ferocity he could hear it reverberating in the walls of the infirmary bathroom. He set his toothbrush down and cupped some water in his hand, rinsing the trails of toothpaste that had dribbled down his chin.
What did it all make of Nico, now?
There is absolutely nothing wrong with you!
They´re POISONOUS, son of Hades!
You have to watch them chronologically, starting from Episode I, NOT Episode IV!
Mayonnaise has no business in a sandwich!
Phaeton was a son of Helios, not Apollo! That´s pretty much why Helios was fired and Apollo had to take over!
There is absolutely nothing wrong with you!
Nico´s reflection smiled and rolled his eyes at him.
And to think he´d been considering all sorts of inconceivable alternatives.
How it all seemed like a distant memory!
Was he even the same person he used to be?
NO.
He was not.
He shook his head and the Nico in the mirror mimicked him.
Mirror Nico glanced at him just a second before he exited the bathroom. He looked healthy and corporeal, if a bit clammy.
No. The Nico di Angelo of today was most definitely not the same Nico di Angelo of a few days ago. The Nico di Angelo of today could recognize The Dahl (Sonata and Concerto) for saxophone. The Nico di Angelo of today could discern when a card could mortally wound a person if thrown with enough Apollonian panache. The Nico di Angelo of today could stitch and bandage his own wounds.
The Nico di Angelo of today woke up this particular morning thinking of how much he looked forward to tomorrow.
Tomorrow. What an otherworldly idea. Tomorrow.
He had a date to plan, after all.
With that thought in mind, clawing at him at his ribcage as it manifested into nerves and a certain degree of excitement, he opened the door and walked out of the infirmary bathroom.
Will was standing by the reception desk holding up a clipboard and sucking on his pen. He looked up at Nico and smiled.
That fucking smile is going to kill me, Nico thought, becoming very aware of how his arms swayed limply at his sides.
"Just finishing up on some last details on your discharge papers," Will said, knocking on the clipboard with his knuckles.
"What sort of details?" Nico asked, coming to a stop beside him and trying to peek down the clipboard, which Will abruptly pulled up against his chest.
"Oh, nothing major," he said conspicuously, "doctor's prescription, original diagnosis and notes on your development – Dionysus will want to see these, and I'll need your signature, I'll sign too, this should break the magic binding you to the infirmary. You'll be free."
Nico frowned more out of habit than any real annoyance. "Don't say it like that, makes it sound like I've been a prisoner here or something."
Will raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me, Mr. I'll-call-my-zombie-to-break-me-out-of-here, you were totally acting like a prisoner on your first couple of days."
Nico shrugged. "Changed my mind," he said, making Will's smile widen. "Give me the damn papers."
Will pulled away when Nico tried to grab the clipboard.
"What are you not telling me, Solace?" Nico asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing.
"Well, there's this other thing you'll need to sign," he replied a little too innocently.
"What is it?"
"A commitment letter," Will replied airily, making it sound like just another item in a shopping list. "You'll have to sign it for me to discharge you."
"Excuse me?" Nico asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Will took a deep calming breath and put on his doctor face, as if he'd been readying himself for this conversation for a while now.
"I know we didn't talk about this, but as your doctor, I feel like there should be an established limit to your Underworld-y magic, you know, for health reasons."
"Okay?" Nico added, prompting him to go on.
"I've been doing some calculations, I figured you should steer clear from any shadow traveling for another month, but -" he held up a hand just as Nico had opened his mouth to interrupt. "In the future, you should be okay to do one trip per week, way and back, unless you're traveling to the Underworld or the West Coast, in which case you'll have to rest for at least three days before attempting your return, and refrain from doing it again until at least two weeks have elapsed. Don't you look at me like that, di Angelo, this is for your own good."
Nico quickly caught himself glaring at Will out of habit, then shrugged. It wasn't like he'd been planning on going anywhere for the next few weeks, what did a month matter now that he… now that he what, exactly?
"Good," Will said brightly, handing Nico the pen and pointing to a line underneath Item 1, which detailed the shadow traveling quota he'd just described.
Nico grabbed the pen and signed, his eyes widening at the length of the document, where he barely glimpsed another 10 Items before Will quickly snatched the clipboard away.
"What the – how many of these conditions are there, Solace?"
"Eleven, which you'll need to sign individually," he replied brightly, and continued without waiting for Nico's response. "Item 2, food. You'll eat no fewer than three meals a day, with witnesses. Sign here," he handed the clipboard and pointed to the second line.
Nico shook his head in complete disbelief.
"I don't need to sign this, of course I'll -"
"Sign here, please," Will spoke over him, then snatched the clipboard away once Nico had signed, a look of incredulity on his face.
"Item 3, physical activity. Patient will join in capture the flag or any other camp activity at least once a week. Other activities may include but are not limited to archery class, canoeing, chariot races, couples hiking…" he said, his voice catching at the last word.
Nico's mouth fell open. Was Will really doing what Nico thought he was doing? He signed his name as Will presented the clipboard, avoiding Nico's eyes.
"Ehm, Item 4, 5 and 6 state the foods, liquids and general substances you are to avoid, the detailed list is below – you can read at your own leisure, sign here. Item 7, you must return to the infirmary every two or three days for a quick checkup, you'll find my shifts schedule in the attachment, I'm off on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and the occasional Sunday. I get off around 7, and I'm usually very hungry at that time, so it's a perfect time to grab dinner or whatever…"
Nico snorted and signed, unable to peel his eyes off Will and the ridiculous blush that started to creep up his neck.
"Item 8, due to a clear melatonin deficiency, patient is required to take in as much sunlight as possible, recommended activities include picnics, boat rides on Long Island Sound, sunbathing in the vicinity of the Apollo cabin…"
"You are ridiculous."
"I am not nearly done here, son of Hades," said Will with a failed attempt at sounding serious, what with his face on fire.
"Item 9, emotional support and companionship are recommended in the form of a movie night in the company of friends, preferably those with a medical background…"
Nico burst into laughter. "I don't have many of those, I just know this weirdo who is way too embarrassing to take out."
Will smacked him on the arm with his clipboard and continued.
"Sign, sign, sign," he said, pointing at the empty lines.
Nico shook his head, the side of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, and signed.
"Last item," Will said, holding up the clipboard to his face. "Patient will make good on his word and go on a date with Will Solace no later than this weekend, because he has an early shift on Monday and he needs to go to sleep early on Sunday…" his voice came out a bit muffled as he practically squashed the clipboard against his nose.
Nico couldn't help it. He was smiling so broadly his face felt strange. He peeled the clipboard off Will's face and wrote his name in huge letters, his eyes on Will.
"Done, you dumbass," he said, handing him back the pen. His eyes scanned down the document and caught on to something strange. "Hey, there's one more Item."
"No, there isn't!" Will interrupted, peeling off the paper and folding it into an envelope.
"Yes, there is, I just saw it."
"You're seeing things, di Angelo, never a good sign," Will added quickly. He promptly pulled out a different form and placed it on the reception desk before them. He pressed on it lengthwise to straighten the crinkled corners and offered Nico the pen.
"This is your release form," he said. "Sign here."
Nico craned his neck and scanned the document. Sure enough, the words RELEASE SHEET were printed at the very top, followed by a long, elegant script that must have been Will's, detailing all the information about Nico's time in the infirmary, followed by two lines at the bottom. He took the pen and signed on the left.
Will smiled a little sadly and took the pen from Nico.
"Wait," Nico suddenly said, making Will stop in mid-air.
"What's wrong?"
"I – I really meant what I said. I changed my mind," Nico said, massaging the back of his neck. "This was good. I mean, fun? I – I had fun. It – okay, so maybe I needed the binding godly command at first but… I would have stayed. I'm – I'm glad I stayed. Thank you, for everything."
Will dropped the pen and put his hands in his pockets, looking away.
"Don't thank me. You don't need to thank me. You -"
"Hey," Nico interrupted, pulling Will's right hand out of his pocket and placing the pen on his palm. He held on to Will's wrist as he spoke, "are you free tonight?"
Will's eyes widened. "Tonight?" he asked, his voice a little higher than usual.
"Yeah," Nico said. "I want to show you something."
Will looked down at the way Nico's fingers held on to his wrist. He turned his hand, placing his own fingers on Nico's forearm. A chill went through Nico as he did so, completely at odds with the heat that emanated from Will's fingertips. He looked up and saw Will staring up at him, the blue of his eyes a shade darker than usual.
"O-okay," Will whispered. "Where will we go?"
"That's a surprise."
"No shadow traveling," Will added, making Nico smile.
They stood like that for a second, until Nico found his own face starting to grow hot. He grudgingly let his hand fall, the tips of his fingers touching Will's for a second before letting go altogether.
"Okay, then," Will said after a heartbeat. "Let's get you out of here."
He leaned over the desk and signed his name on the line on the right. A ripple went through the entire infirmary, a vague scent of grapes wafting through the air.
"Looks like it's done," Will said, looking around the infirmary as if he were seeing it for the first time. He smiled at Nico and waved his arm dramatically at the door. "After you, Lord of Darkness."
Nico rolled his eyes and headed for the door. He put his hand on the door knob and twisted, it made the tiniest clicking sound as it opened wide, letting in a warm breeze and the smell of strawberries from the fields.
"Wait," said Will suddenly. He pulled a bag from the coat closet by the door and handed it to Nico. Inside was his aviator jacket, freshly cleaned and neatly folded. "I took the liberty of having it cleaned, it was filthy when you got here."
Nico shrugged it on with ease, relishing in the familiar feeling.
"Thank you," he said. "For this, for… everything."
"Stop thanking me," said Will, rubbing a hand over his arm as if he were cold. "I get shivers when people thank me so seriously."
Nico smiled and stepped outside the infirmary, Will at his heels.
"What will you do now?" the son of Apollo asked.
"Going to the Big House. Got a few things to say to Dionysus."
Will chuckled. "Don't go getting yourself in trouble, you hear? I'm looking forward to this thing you're going to show me tonight. I'll be very disappointed if you get yourself grounded again."
"I wasn't grounded –"
"Whatever, just don't."
Nico turned his face to Will and smirked.
"See you tonight," he said, and walked away, hoping to gods he didn't trip.
His legs felt strong as they carried him across camp. He walked past the archery practice field, where a few first years were practicing under the strict tutelage of Kayla, who waved at Nico as she spotted him.
"Looking good, Prince of Darkness!" she yelled, waving a hand over her head.
Nico waved back awkwardly, not used to being addressed from a distance. It felt kinda nice, admittedly.
A few minutes later, he found himself standing on the wraparound porch of the Big House, face to face with Dionysus, who sat on a garden chair, sipping on a Diet Coke, reading a magazine.
"You're alive," the god stated, pushing up his sunglasses and scanning Nico from top to bottom.
"Not thanks to you," Nico responded, taking a seat on the chair next to him. With a wave of his arm, Dionysus conjured up a small table between them, a brand-new deck of cards on the surface. Nico took the hint, peeling off the wrapper, he began to shuffle cards in silence. He could feel Dionysus's godly eyes on him, but refused to acknowledge him until the hands had been dealt. Fortunately, the god didn't seem to be in a chatty mood, so they played in silence for a while.
He wouldn't admit it out loud, but Nico had started to find Pinochle slightly relaxing, after the many times he'd been forced to play with the god, he now did so gladly, enjoying the sunshine and the warm breeze that rustled his hair. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply – strawberries, always strawberries.
"You look well," the god spoke. Nico opened his eyes and saw Dionysus staring curiously at him, as if he were trying to assess which strange malady ailed him at the moment.
"I've looked better, I'm sure," Nico responded.
"No," Dionysus said, thoughtfully. "I don't think you've looked better. You usually look all different levels of worse. This," he shook a purple finger in his direction, drawing an invisible circle in the air, "is an improvement. Seems like you've lost something."
Nico rolled his eyes and shook his head, trying to feign annoyance.
He knew Dionysus was probably right. He felt better than he'd felt in a long time, it was only understandable this fact would be reflected in his physical appearance, but lost something? If anything, he gained, a lot.
"Well, I've slept more in the past few days than I've slept in weeks, and I'm eating, a lot, and if I see another Gatorade I'm going to puke, so that's that," said Nico, taking off his aviator jacket and perching it on the back of his chair.
"Nightmares?" the god asked, rearranging his cards, as if he couldn't care less.
Nico shrugged. "One or two," he admitted. "Short. Shards of them. No background music."
Dionysus nodded. "Well, well, be sure to congratulate Will Solace on my behalf. Looks like he's done a fine job with you."
Nico stiffened at the mention of Will, but tried to remain calm. He took a sharp intake of breath through the nose and relaxed his shoulders, realizing, much too late, that Dionysus hadn't missed a beat. Fortunately, the god had enough tact not to comment on it.
"I do have one question," Nico said, hoping to steer away from the subject of Will and staring at the god who pointedly ignored him while leisurely sipping on his coke. "What did Alecto say to you, that night she dropped me off at camp?"
The god looked at him suspiciously. "You don't remember?"
"I don't speak Greek," Nico answered.
Dionysus shook his head. "We were speaking Latin, boy. You speak Latin just fine."
Nico looked slightly taken aback. "I distinctly heard you speak Greek."
"Interesting," said Dionysus, twirling his can of coke. "Well, it appears you were projecting away from the moment."
"Explain?" Nico added, tantalized.
"You must have known what was being said and decided not to understand it, mingling up the language in puny mortal brain, crudely translating into a language you claim not to speak, so you wouldn't have to deal with it. A defense mechanism used by polyglot demigods, you understand." Nico nodded at the explanation, then frowned.
"That doesn't answer my question. What did she say to you?"
"Nothing of importance, I assure you. Merely your father's instructions. I've sent word of your condition. He should not be pestering me any longer I hope. My vineyard's been producing nothing but sour grapes for the past five days." He looked at him for a reaction, but Nico made a point to look blank.
"Whatever," he said, hoping his voice was calm enough.
Dionysus snapped his fingers and conjured up a plate of grapes. He nodded and beckoned Nico to eat. "You are going through something most gods cannot presume to understand," Nico took a plump grape and popped into his mouth. "Shame," Dionysus said loudly, emphasizing every sound with such clarity he made Nico choke on his grape, "is not a feeling most gods are familiar with."
Nico coughed and punched at his sternum. "Wh –"
"I see it now," the god said.
"S – see what?" Nico coughed.
"As a rule, we steer clear from demigod emotions; too overly dramatic, I'm sure you understand. You demigods tend to be whiny and feel utterly misunderstood – wronged, even. It is frankly unbearable. You, on the other hand, Nico di Angelo, you are the exact opposite of the ordinary demigod, which frankly is the one reason you have earned the respect of the gods. The only reason I have agreed to take you under my personal care. You do not whine, you do not feel underappreciated, you do not strive for honor and wallow in self-pity when you fail to obtain it. You swallow." Dionysus took a sip of his drink as if to emphasize his idea.
"Okay," Nico said, not sure if he should be interrupting, but unable to stop himself.
"Your escape from Tartarus, miraculous as it was, was possible because of your connection to the Underworld itself – your ability to take in the scenes of death and pain you witnessed. You swallowed them, and you escaped relatively unscathed. The death of your friends, your sister," the word felt to Nico like a punch to the gut, but he did not interrupt. "the destruction you've seen all around you, you've understood as part of a natural process, hateful as it is, you internalized it. You swallowed."
Suddenly, Dionysus stood up and faced the fields, his back to Nico.
"But you cannot swallow everything, Nico di Angelo. You cannot swallow shame, because there is no shame in death. There is no shame in dying, there is no shame in sacrifice. You are unable to internalize it. Shame is a foreign entity that you cannot bear to swallow. Instead, it sickens you when you try, and threatens to spill back out like cheap wine."
"Why are you telling me all this? It doesn't make any sense," Nico said heatedly, running a hand through his hair.
"You do not understand shame, just as Hades doesn't understand shame. As a matter of fact, your father is the most shameless god I've ever met," he added in an undertone.
"Can you please stop saying shame?" Nico asked almost pleadingly.
"I can understand shame, because it is often the quickest way to madness, and there is a certain madness in you."
"Thank you, now I'm crazy," Nico added, getting up and standing next to Dionysus, his arms crossed.
"You are not crazy," the god said distastefully, and when he looked at Nico, there was a fiery glow in his eyes, making him look, frankly, a little mad. "There is a certain madness in you, but it is receding, son of Hades. I see it now. I see it melting away, as you stop trying to swallow it, and slowly dismiss it as unworthy."
Nico stared into Dionysus's eyes the way he'd look down a kaleidoscopic spiral, spinning endlessly into nothing.
"I feel like you're hypnotizing me," said Nico in a voice that sounded very far away. Suddenly, the feeling stopped.
"My apologies," said the god, turning around and plopping back down on his lawn chair, then putting on his sunglasses. "I enjoy talking about madness, if you can understand that."
Nico shook his head as if trying to return from a deep reverie.
"You just said I wasn't crazy," he said, facing the god.
"Madness has nothing to do with being crazy," he said distastefully again. "The word crazy, well, it drives me crazy. Be sure never to phrase it again in my presence, or I'll turn you into a cat."
Nico snorted and sat back down, taking another grape from the plate.
"So, that's it? I'm not… mad?"
"You are not mad," the god acknowledged.
"Then, what?"
Dionysus thought for a moment. "You are fine. I wouldn't go as far as to say there is nothing wrong with you," he said knowingly, and Nico choked for a second time, swearing never to touch another grape in the presence of Dionysus. "But you may return to me, should you face another bout of nightmares. For now, I proclaim you, cured."
"Cured?" Nico asked with tears in his eyes, an uncomfortably wet feeling in his chest, probably from the piece of grape stuck in his windpipe.
"Cured," the god repeated, "from your shame."
"Stop saying shame!"
It was lunchtime by the time Nico left the Big House. He could have headed back to his cabin, laid on the bed and waited for dusk, thinking over his conversation with Dionysus, which never failed to provide what seemed like endless content for analysis – but a strange feeling compelled him to head to the dining pavilion instead.
The place was in full swing when he got there. It had been months since he'd had a meal alongside the rest of the camp, and he could feel the stares of a few campers on him as he walked towards his table. He sat down and a wood nymph promptly presented him with a full plate – olives, feta cheese, freshly baked bread and a few figs.
He frowned at the sheer quantity of food before him. Last time he'd sat at the dining pavilion, he'd barely registered the amount of food given to him, but it had certainly been half of what he had been served today.
His stomach grumbled as if sensing the presence of food, and he began to eat.
As he chewed on a piece of cheese, he glanced around him, taking in his surroundings. The Ares cabin – always the most boisterous one, was crowded with a horde of campers, challenging each other to eating competitions and arm-wrestling on the table. The Aphrodite campers poked at their plates while they whispered into each other's ears, giggling shrilly and casting quick glances at the Ares table.
Sick, Nico thought, you're practically related.
A loud cheer came from the Hermes table, which used to be the largest and fullest in times when the gods left their demigod children unclaimed, and now, regardless of its diminished numbers, still managed to create such a racket that Nico had a hard time looking away, as one of the Stoll brothers, Nico couldn't tell which of the two, tackled another camper to the floor in what seemed like friendly (violent) bantering?
He'd almost laughed out loud when a piece of hotdog practically flew out of the camper's mouth as Whats-his-face Stoll tackled him onto the floor, when he registered a pair of eyes on him. He glanced around and found Will Solace looking at him from the Apollo table.
Nico swallowed and frowned, quickly wiping the smile off his face. He simply did not like the smug way Will was looking at him, as if his existence had all been his doing. If Will had been any closer, Nico would have mouthed the words What the hell are you looking at? but, alas, he was too far for Nico to be sure he'd get the message. Instead, he reached out for one of the bottles of condiment that always sat in the middle of the table, and squirted a husky measure of mayonnaise on the edge of his plate, making it look like he'd squirted it over his food.
Will's mouth fell open, his eyes widening in absolute shock.
Nico snorted and picked up another piece of cheese, popping it into his mouth and pretending to enjoy it a lot more than he actually did.
Will shook his head in disgust and mouthed the word gross, which Nico had no trouble discerning.
Suddenly, the sound of hoofs against the stone floor echoed throughout the pavilion, as Chiron got to his feet, getting everyone's attention.
"Campers," the centaur said loud and clear. "I have an announcement. Today we celebrate the anniversary of the day of birth of one of our campers! Miranda Gardiner, please stand up!"
At this, Miranda, from the Demeter cabin smiled awkwardly, but stood up, waving a hand at one of her siblings, who whistled so loudly Nico winced.
"In honor of the head counselor of the Demeter cabin, we will arrange a wild-mushroom-picking activity this afternoon!"
A few of the campers from the Ares cabin groaned, sitting back down and looking sullen.
"Now, now," said Chiron cheerfully, "I know you are all eager for the next capture the flag, which will be held on Sunday, but do not be quick to despair, young demigods, for we have arranged to make of this a competition!"
Nico frowned and glanced at Will, who looked back at him with eager eyes.
"We have intelligence that there are no fewer than five –" Chiron held up his palm, fingers outstretched, "Seven Flower Mushrooms growing in the West Woods, you shall be divided into teams of two, the pair who collects the most Seven Flower Mushrooms shall win tonight's price!"
"What's the price, Chiron?" yelled someone from the Hephaestus table.
"Not another tape of Dean Martin!" wailed Austin Lake, from the Apollo table, who Nico recognized instantly.
"Now, now, I promise you, the winner of this race will be properly rewarded, I expect you to sign up as you exit the pavilion, the race will begin two hours from now, giving you enough time to digest your meals!"
A loud cheer erupted from around the pavilion, as the campers immediately started to break into pairs. Nico felt himself break into a cold sweat, looking around as if lost in a sea of cyclopes. He had half a mind to get up and go back into his cabin, but another feeling – a distinctly binding feeling, kept him compelled to his seat. His eyes found Will Solace, who whispered a few words to his sister Kayla, and stood up, making his way to Nico.
Don't make me join. Don't make me join. Don't make me join. He silently chanted as Will walked closer and closer to him.
"We're joining!" Will announced brightly, taking a seat next to Nico and promptly getting up with a hiss, as if the marble stool had electrocuted him. "Ouch, guess I'm not allowed to sit here?" he said, directing a dark glare at the stool.
. "Please, don't," Nico stammered back, dreading an afternoon of looking for mushrooms of all things.
"We're joining," Will repeated sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. "It'll be good for you, after all the days you've been cooped up in the infirmary."
Nico's neck gave in, his chin an inch from his plate. "You cannot possibly order me to join -"
"Hey!" Will said, his eyes on Nico's plate. "You tricked me!"
Nico looked down at his plate and noticed the mayonnaise-covered edges, his food untouched by the slimy white sauce.
"Well," Nico shrugged. "I don't much like mayonnaise either."
Will's smile brightened like the morning sun.
"My type of guy," he said, and Nico blushed, crossing his legs and looking away.
"Fine," Nico said, grudgingly.
"Fine?" Will asked.
"Fine, we'll join. But I'm not promising we'll win. I don't know squat about mushrooms." He looked up and saw Will beaming down at him.
"Great! Meet me at the edge of the woods in one hour, I've to go get something!" With that, Will Solace ran out of the pavilion and disappeared in the distance, leaving Nico feeling as abandoned and untouched as the mayonnaise on his plate.
It was early afternoon by the time Will Solace arrived at the edge of the West Woods, where Nico had been sitting on a large boulder, a considerable distance from the boisterous pairs of eager demigods, clad in their Greek armors, chattering excitedly about the race.
"Hey," Will spoke, taking a seat next to Nico. "You ready?"
Nico peeled his eyes off the cheering crowd and glanced at Will, focusing on the glitter in his blue eyes.
"Guess so," he said unenthusiastically. "I don't see why you'd want to join in, we could be doing the same thing without joining in some senseless activity."
"Oh?" Will asked, "we could be doing the same thing, as in, we could go hiking on our own?"
"I mean –"
"That would be fine, too," Will interrupted. "But I can't turn down the possibility of winning a prize! I've never won anything before, so I always join in. Maybe one day I'll get a ridiculous tape of Dean Martin or something. I know that would annoy the hell out of Austin, an added plus."
Nico smiled as he took in Will's mischievous grin.
"Campers!" boomed Chiron's from the other side of the clearing, "the race is about to begin! The rules are simple: do not get killed!"
Will scoffed. "Someone almost always gets killed whenever he says that."
There was a palpable rush of excitement rustling through the campers, readying themselves as if actually starting a running race.
"GO!" yelled Chiron, nodding pointedly as Miranda Gardiner waved a flag, and the campers took off into the woods.
"Guess we should uh," Will stammered, getting to his feet and offering a hand to Nico. Nico took it suspiciously, but relished in the feel of Will's hand in his.
"Go?" he added, walking into the woods, Will Solace at his side.
They'd been walking aimlessly for a long time, around large trees and through small clearings. Nico's legs weren't exactly tired, but he knew he'd feel just the tiniest bit sore the next morning. The physical effort wasn't taking too much out of him, but it had been a while since he'd trekked through a forest.
They also hadn't spoken in a long time. Will tended to… wander. He'd brought along a large fabric bag, homemade, by the looks of it, and kept stuffing herbs and fruits into it as they walked, stopping every few minutes, making an Ooh sound as he inspected a plant and stuffed it into his bag before continuing to walk.
Nico wasn't bored exactly, but he had to admit, the lack of monstrous activity made him feel slightly useless – as if he'd been wasting a whole afternoon that could otherwise have been spent slaying monsters, or perhaps… what? Staring at the ceiling in his cabin?
No, truthfully, he was glad to be here. He was glad to have come, even if it meant wandering aimlessly through the woods in utter silence, he knew he'd wouldn't rather be anywhere else.
"Nico!" Will suddenly yelled, and Nico reached for his Stygian iron sword.
"What?" he asked, running to Will's side, his sword at the ready.
"Is this it?" Will asked excitedly, kneeling over a tiny brown mushroom. "Is this a Seven Flower Mushroom?"
Nico rolled his eyes and sheathed his sword, sighing in relief. "That's just a regular mushroom, Solace."
Will frowned at the mushroom, looking disappointed, but pocketing it regardless. "Oh, never mind then. What does a Seven Flower Mushroom look like, anyway?"
"I don't know," Nico admitted.
"Do you want to uh… take a break?" Will asked quietly, his eyes on a clearing just a few yards away from them, which opened up to the edge of Long Island Sound.
Nico followed Will's gaze, taking in the water that glittered under the rays of the late afternoon sun.
He'd learned to associate water with Percy, and avoided it as if he'd been an actual cat – but sitting down on the edge next to Will didn't sound like such a bad idea. He shrugged in response and Will beamed at him.
They sat down over a large, flat boulder. Nico didn't need a lot of convincing from Will's side to take off his shoes and socks and dip his feet in the water.
As they sat there and the minutes stretched, Nico began to relax into the feeling of the warm current lapping at his calves, the feel of the sun on his face, the warm breeze gently caressing his face. For a second he even forgot Will was there. Until he opened his eyes and glanced sideways.
Will Solace was like a solar panel, he realized. He took in the sunlight with such abandon he seriously looked like he was recharging his batteries. The sun kissed the freckles on his face, his golden locks, his eyelashes, making him shimmer in an almost unearthly way. Nico's eyes ran down Will's neck, his chest, heaving slow, deep breaths as he took in the sun. Nico's eyes ran down to Will's stomach, his crotch, his legs.
Nico never noticed before that there were some smaller pockets on the sides of Will's shorts. Sure, there were those ridiculously large pockets into which he could have stuffed at least a couple of sandwiches, he'd thoroughly studied Will's pants before, but he'd never noticed the smaller pockets. He also hadn't noticed the stain of ink on his right leg's inner thigh. As they sat next to each other, their legs in the water, Nico noticed the way his leg muscles tensed each time his feet kicked at the current. He heard the distant sound of chattering, somewhere in the woods behind them, but he paid them no mind – not when the ever more important sight of Will's legs anchored his attention.
He suddenly had the childish idea of leaning down on Will and taking a nap over his legs, resting his head on his strong thighs.
It was a silly thought, he knew, suddenly fixating on Will's legs, after all the time he'd spent studying him from up close – after those stolen moments in the Apollo cabin bathroom, where he'd seen the entirety of Will, his beauty, his carnal indulgence.
Now, his eyes were fixed on Will's legs and he couldn't, for the life of him, rip his eyes off those magnificent stubs of meat. He blinked, trying to reign in his own thoughts. He seemed to have finally made peace with the idea that he liked Will. As in, liked, liked. And maybe the tiny occurrence that this wasn't wrong after all had begun nibbling at the corner of his sleeves, especially after having had that conversation with Dionysus.
Hadn't the god said Nico had lost something along the way?
Was it… could it be? The S word.
He hated to admit it, but he didn't feel the slightest bit ashamed at the way his eyes ate at Will's legs, his gaze firmly set upon them, then going higher and higher, until he reached the area just between Will's legs and his breath hitched in his throat and he had half a mind to look away because he'd soon start to think of things he'd never thought of while in direct contact with sunlight, and then his heart almost stopped when he felt something hot against his ear.
"Nico," Will's voice seeped into him, wet with moisture from the heated waters of Long Island Sound. "Nico, stop looking at me like that." Nico almost jumped back, would have jumped back or even thrown himself into the water, but his entire body froze as he felt Will's hand press down on his, lacing their fingers together and sending a ripple of electricity through his body. "Stop looking at me as if you'd like nothing but kill me or eat me or –" he propped himself on his hand, pressing down on Nico's as he did so, and shimmied in closer. "Like you want me so bad," he whispered, his shoulders touching Nico's. "Nico, you're turning me on."
You're the one turning me on, Nico wanted to say, torn between excitement and indignity. He'd had half a mind to push Will into the water, but thought better of it and got up instead, quickly putting on his socks and shoes and walking towards the woods, slowing down just as he'd reached the nearest tree.
"You coming?" Nico asked, his voice hoarse.
Will stood up slowly and took his time tying his shoelaces, glancing at Nico every now and again, his eyes unreadable.
They walked in silence around the opposite sides of trees with enormous trunks, breaking eye contact only for as long as it took them to circle around them. Nico couldn't feel his legs – not from exhaustion, admittedly, he couldn't very well feel the rest of his body. He seemed to be relying on his eyes, nose and ears, trying to catch every movement Will made in his vicinity – the way his feet cracked a twig in two, the vague scent of coconut mingled with other forests smells, the look in Will's eyes, every so often catching the light of the sun, glinting wild and bordering on feral, as they centered on Nico's own.
The girth of the trees became thinner as they approached another clearing. Sundown was upon them, the sky over their heads tinted purple as night threatened to cover the entirety of the area.
If Will had been turned on, it was nothing to how Nico felt. Will's mop of blonde hair reflected the dying rays of the sun with such intensity Nico felt like a prospector thirsting for the feel of gold between his fingers. Will's eyes, his kind eyes, filled to the brim with the ferocity of a wolf, made nothing but replenish Nico with a palpitating desire for pouncing on him – striking him to the ground like a wild thing.
They separated as they circled yet another tree in opposite directions. Nico's palm itched to touch something – anything, and he settled for the rough trunk of the tree as he walked around it, and he almost hissed when he felt the tips of Will's fingers touch his own.
They stopped simultaneously, meeting on the other side, the trunk of the tree separating them.
Will laced his fingers between Nico's, and his heart skipped a beat, just as he saw Will's eyes flutter.
"Will," Nico croaked, his nails digging into the trunk of the tree. "I –"
"Don't," Will interrupted, his fingers slithering up the back of Nico's hand, seeping warmth into him. "Don't say anything." He braced his other hand up against the trunk of the tree between them, and Nico took it in his, grabbing onto him as if he were a buoy and he was drowning.
Nico's eyes drank in Will's appearance – his golden hair catching a few rays of the dying sun, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his eyes half-closed. He squeezed Will's fingers with his right hand, and painfully dug his left hand's fingers into the tree's unforgiving bark.
"You're looking at me again," Will whispered huskily.
"I can't help it," Nico admitted, his voice just as low.
"Don't look at me like that, Nico," Will murmured against the tree, leaning the side of his face on the trunk and closing his eyes.
"I can't help it," he repeated.
"Why?" Will whined, his face against the tree as if he were trying to melt into it. "Why me? Why, of all people? I can't –"
"Because you're perfect," Nico hissed, surprised at the forcefulness in his voice. Will's eyes sprang open, as if Nico had said a filthy word. The son of Apollo looked utterly disbelieving, even a little bit hurt, as if he'd been the victim of bullying.
"You're just saying that because, I don't know, you're just humoring me, you ended up shadow traveling into a random bathroom and I'm just –"
"You're perfect," Nico insisted, walking around the tree and taking a step closer to Will. "You are the sun."
Will's eyes opened so wide Nico could see his pupils dilating. He took another step closer to Will, prompting him to step back into the tree, his back smack against the bark. Nico hesitated before placing his hands on Will's shoulders, pinning him against the tree, he was surprised no black smoke rose at the contact, as he felt like a smoldering piece of burning coal.
"I can't stop looking at you, because you're perfect. Maybe you're not. I actually think you're a giant idiot. But I simply can't – won't stop looking at you, unless you tell me, right here, right now, once and for all, that you want me to stop," Nico said, glancing up at Will, his head craning up slightly to catch Will's eyes in his. "Do you want me to stop?"
Will looked down at Nico with a strange shimmer in his eyes. His nostrils flared and he suddenly grabbed Nico's wrist, pulling his palm smack against his crotch, directly over Will's cock.
Nico's eyes could have just popped out of his sockets. He couldn't move his hand, as Will held it firmly against himself, but he could feel the bulging erection underneath it, and he'd never, ever felt anything like it before.
"Does this answer your question, son of Hades?" Will asked, and Nico could feel his hot breath against his ear again. "Do you not see what you do to me? Are you this cruel?"
And just as Nico had been about to melt into Will, just as he'd been about to squeeze his hand and see what effect he had on Will Solace, who stood so openly – so bracingly unguarded before him, a conch sounded in the vicinity, so close in fact that both Nico and Will jumped back from each other as if they had been scorched by their proximity.
"Time's up! All campers promptly return to the main clearing!"
They looked at each other, their chests heaving, their eyes on fire.
Just when Will finally moved and took a step towards the clearing, Nico sprang into action, tightening his fingers around Will's wrists and pulling him away from the commotion.
"Wha –"
"Be quiet and come with me," Nico commanded, dragging Will back into the forest.