CHAPTER SUMMARY

Mussolini.

That is all.

(Also the title's supposed to be "That Awkward Moment When You Almost Call Your Boyfriend a Fascist")

BEGINNING NOTES

Chapter Rating: Fit For No One (part 2)
Content Warning: Cursing, Sexual Themes, Loss of Your Innocence (yes, again)
Word Count: 3993

Now it's time for my FAVORITE CHAPTER!

Remember that Mussolini is a son of Ares. That comes up.

And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.

Credits at the end.

_NICO_

Nico saw something he wasn't supposed to see. He was having trouble sleeping and did what he always did-sneak into the kitchen and steal something to eat. Mamma was very strict about treats after dinner, but sugar was the only thing that calmed his mind, and, besides, Cucinare was good at her job.

He snuck into the hallway and down the stairs, through to the library and Nonno's office, all the way to where the preparation room was. It was a small room between the dining room and kitchen; the place where Cucinare put the food so the servants could take it to the dining room. Nico liked to think of it as his secret lair, even if it wasn't secret. He wanted to be a hero like all the men in the newspaper-brave young men fighting and dying for their country, like the Greek heroes Papà would tell him about. Nico wanted to be a hero when he grew up. And every hero needs a secret lair.

When Nico tiptoed into the kitchen, he heard Mamma's voice coming from the sitting room. A curious little boy, he crouched as close to the archway as he could and listened. It wasn't rude. Heroes eavesdropped all the time. It was how they knew things.

"He cannot do this, Father! You've retired."

"He may do as he likes. If he wants me in Rome, I leave for Rome."

"Rome!" Nico heard the click of Mamma's heels on the marble floor. "Oh, Rome! There is no place for you in Rome!"

"Not so, not anymore." Nonno sighed. "What is there to do, Maria?"

"Say no!"

Nonno laughed a harsh and bitter laugh. "No one says no to Il Duce and gets away with it."

"You will die, Father. You step one foot into that city as a governor, and you will be assassinated. How many metals have you won for your bravery? How many thousands of lives did you save in the Great War? This is how Benito Mussolini repays those to whom he is in debt?"

"Do not blame the man for the administration."

"What administration?!" she cried. "There is nothing and no one now but him! The only hope I have left is my work and my family. That devil incarnate may have stolen my country, but he will not steal you!"

Silence for a moment. "I will make myself useful to you, Maria, I swear," came a gravelly voice. "I'll find a way to pass on information for your friends to use."

Nico inched forward and peered through the archway. Nonno stood from his chair with great effort and embraced a sobbing Mamma. "Don't cry, my love. Be strong, and trust in Jesus almighty." His words popped and cracked. These simple actions exhausted him. This wasn't Nico's grandfather, Generale d'Armata Enrico di Angelo, Four-Star General of the Italian Army, an intellectual of endless strength and commanding presence. Who was this seventy-year-old man, beaten by time and ready to surrender? Where was Nico's idol? What did that old man do to him?

Mamma wiped the tears from her face. "When do they come to take you?"

"We must prepare a dinner for tomorrow night. And make sure-Andrew Devin-is there. Remind him of his promise. I won't let you be punished because he will not marry the mother of his children."

"He will be there, Father. I love you."

"I love you too, Maria."

Nico backed away from the archway and ran all the way back to his room. He knew that heroes never cried, but that didn't stop silent tears from streaming down his cheeks.

Heroes were supposed to die. Grandfathers weren't.

"Neeks?"

Nico caught the lump in his throat before it could turn into tears. "Yeah?" he managed, but his voice was weak.

Will ran a hand through his hair the way he knew Nico liked. "Everyone else is asleep. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what, Will?"

"You blacked out, Nico-I couldn't get your attention. It was like you weren't here. And, you were whispering to yourself in Italian. You don't do that unless you're in a bad place." Will squeezed his hand. "It was the dementors, wasn't it?"

Nico nodded. "After Al cut the connection, there was a few moments when... I'm sorry I spaced out, my memories keep coming back, and they like to slap me in the face, but normally they're happy. But, this one... it's not happy."

He went on to describe it. Will listened, pushing Nico closer until he was practically on his lap. He wrapped his arms around Nico and pressed his lips to his forehead. Nico shook, but he didn't let himself cry. There was no one left in the world but Will right now, the warmth of his touch, his breath on Nico's skin.

"What year was that?" Will asked.

Nico thought for a moment. "I was seven. So... 1936."

Will smiled. "Born 1929 then, right?" Nico nodded. Will cocked his head to the side the way he usually did when he was joking around. Nico felt his heart drum in his chest. It was utterly adorable. "So, I'm dating a ninety-year-old. Old man Nico."

Nico grabbed Will's cheeks and kissed that adorkable smirk off of his face. He'd given that boy his virginity three days ago (how had it only been three days since Persephone's quest?) and they hadn't gotten a minute alone since then. Anyone could wake up at any moment and catch them mid-makeout session, but the danger only made it more fun.

"Nico, Nico, I need to breathe," Will gasped, pushing him away. "And stop distracting me, we were talking about your nightmare."

"You can't blame a man for trying."

"I'll admit, it was a good attempt." Will sat there in silence, cheeks flushed, panting, trying to catch his breath. "Dammit I love you." He closed his eyes and fell, so he was lying on Cerus's back. Nico crawled to his side and laid with him, resting his head on Will's chest. He could hear every beat of the boy's heart, even through his shirt.

"It wasn't a nightmare," Nico told him. "There's just moments where I black out and remember."

"Really? That's... not normal."

"I figured it was part of my ADHD. Don't you normally sort of drift off?"

"Not like that. You sound more like it's PTSD than ADHD."

"It's not PTSD, Solace, I promise. I think, I dunno, I'm just a little weird. It's not like I forgot my past in a normal way."

Will was quiet. He got his thinking face, eyes darting and a half-moon smile. It was utterly adorable. "Was it the Lotus?" he asked. "You've never said what happened."

Nico closed his eyes. He could still see that vision from when he tried to summon his mother's spirit. "Hades bathed me and Bianca in the Lethe." to protect us, I think, so when he put us in the Lotus we had no idea where we came from and couldn't spill the beans. That way, Zeus couldn't find us." Nico laughed bitterly. "He wanted his pawns safe and sound."

"But how do you remember if you were bathed in the Lethe? I thought that lasts forever? How do you even remember your name?"

That was a really good point. Why were the memories coming back? He remembered Iapetus, or Bob, now. If the Lethe could do that to an immortal, why didn't it have the same effect on him?

"It's because I'm a child of the Underworld, and alive, so the Lethe might not have the full effect on me," Nico decided.

"Or maybe Hades protected you somehow?" Will offered.

"He wouldn't care enough about us to do that."

"But if he wiped your memory to protect you in the first place-"

"Shut up, Solace."

"Nico-"

"I said shut up. I don't want to think about him anymore. Whatever happened, it doesn't matter. I'm not his son anymore and I'm remembering and it's fucking wonderful."

"Okay, okay, you don't have to get all defensive." There was an angry pit in Nico's stomach, but it wasn't enough that he was willing-or able-to leave Will's arms. "You said were born 1929?" Will said, smartly changing the subject. "Guess that means you grew up in fascist Italy?"

"Seriously, what's 'fascist' mean?"

"Nevermind."

"No, not 'nevermind,' Paul said that word too, will someone just tell me-"

Will's lips were on Nico's, and his hand was back in Nico's hair. It was hard to pay attention to anything else. His kiss warmed Nico to the core, expelled any chill he had left from those dementors. When Will pulled away, Nico brought their foreheads together, hands resting on his boyfriend's neck.

Will brushed his thumb over Nico's bottom lip. "What was it like for you, living in Italy? You learn about all that in school, but I've never talked to a real-life, um, you get what I mean."

Nico thought for a moment. "It was, I guess I'd say normal, but of course I would think it was normal. We weren't normal normal, though. We were old money, really old money. We could trace our roots back to one of the noble houses of the Roman Empire. I wouldn't be surprised if I have some Jupiter or Mars in me. Maybe even both."

"That would explain how you found Camp Jupiter, and how you learned Latin so easily."

Nico laughed. "Latin and Italian aren't super different from each other. It was like learning a language on easy-mode."

He leaned in to kiss Will again, but the boy pulled back after the slightest touch of their lips. "You were saying?" he asked.

"You're a tease."

"You love me, and you know it."

Nico tried to go in for a kiss again, but Will was too fast. Nico groaned. "Fine, dammit. Most of the men in my family were career soldiers, politicians, or both. My grandfather was an army general in the Great War, then got into politics. He was a diplomat in D.C. before I was born, then Mayor Alverà's chief advisor in Venice. He retired when I was four, so we moved back to our family villa in la Valle d'Aosta... "

"But now it looks like he was involved in Mussolini's Rome," Will finished.

"It's not that," Nico said. "Il Duce was always Prime Minister, even when Nonno was still in politics. He was in power when Nonno became diplomat to D.C. But... I always thought of Nonno as Italy's greatest hero. Everyone knew he was a hero, but heroes are supposed to die, right? But he was such a great warrior that he kept trying to die for Italy and still didn't. I used to think God himself made sure Nonno stayed alive so he could help his country even more. But, he was so helpless. Like Mamma said, why would they do that to a hero?"

"Since when are heroes supposed to die, Nico?"

"I dunno... that's how it is, right? I wanted to be a soldier and die for my country. I mean, I didn't really know what death was, like, emotionally, just that I wanted to be a hero and all the stories I heard had the hero die at the end."

"Wow," Will said, his voice far away. "You hear about all this in school, the propaganda, and brainwashing, but-"

"What do you mean brainwashing?" Nico said, slightly offended. "I'm not brainwashed! I was a little kid!"

"It doesn't matter, Neeks. Drop it." Nico was about to defend his honor, but Will finally drew him in for the long-awaited kiss, and it was everything his teasing had promised. Nico was in heaven; he easily forgot what he was angry about.

"Will..." he whispered. If there hadn't been any danger of getting caught, Nico didn't know if he'd be able to keep temptation away. But, there were three other people there, and he had enough to worry about without putting his, ah, feelings on display for the world to see. "Will, we have to tone it down." The irrational part of him screamed in protest.

Will grunted in response. Instead of kissing, they laid down together and wrapped their arms around each other. Nico closed his eyes and focused on Will's hot breath hitting his ear. He never wanted to sleep alone again.

"You don't remember anything about that dinner, with the people who came for your grandfather?" Will asked.

"I..." The moment Will said it, a faint memory rose to the surface. "Mamma woke up Bianca and me early that day. She said important people were coming over." The memory came back in real time. He spoke the words before he had time to process it, his voice getting stronger and stronger with each breath. "Papà-Hades-would be coming home from work in Germany..."

"You will stay by my side and do as I say. You will sit still, do not speak unless spoken to, and be on your absolute best behavior," Mamma instructed.

"Why?" Bianca asked.

"Because these are very important friends of Nonno's, and we have to be very respectful. Pick out your clothes for tonight right now and show them to me. I'll be in the kitchen, helping the servants prepare dinner."

Mamma was pickier than usual about their clothes, worse than when they had to get ready for Christmas services. And it wasn't just clothes-they had to take a bath, get their hair trimmed, Bianca even put makeup on.

Nico was putting the finishing touches on his hair when he heard a knock on his door. " Un minuto, Mamma!" he called. He combed the last bit of hair in place. " Va bene! Fatto! "

"Look at my handsome son."

Nico turned, his face lit up with glee. "Papà!" He divebombed at his father, hitting him in the gut. Papà lifted him, then, at the last second, flipped him over so Nico's hair grazed the floor. Nico laughed in delight, and didn't stop until Papà finally put him back on the ground.

"I may not be able to do that much longer," Papà commented. "Seven years old. You're too big now."

"Qualcuno è importante per la cena," Nico informed him.

Papà raised his eyebrow, a teasing twinkle in his eye. "What was that?"

"A man comes for supper," Nico said in his choppy English.

Papà smiled. "Yes, more than one." He lifted Nico and placed him in a nearby chair. "Let me fix your hair before Mamma gets angry at me." So, Papà took Nico's comb and went to work on his hair. "Listen to me, Nico. I know how stubborn you are-I admit that comes from me-but you must listen to Mamma. Sit still and stay quiet. There will come a day when I cannot protect you anymore. You must learn how to take orders, or you will not survive."

"Yes, Papà," Nico chirped. He'd do anything his father said. He was just happy he was home.

A half-hour later, Nonno, Mamma, Papà, Bianca, and Nico stood by the door, waiting for the guests to arrive. Everyone was stiff and silent. Mamma held Nonno's hand desperately, as though she thought that if she let go, he would run to Rome himself. Papà put a comforting hand on the small of her back; his other was on Bianca's shoulder. Nico played with the hem of his suit jacket nervously until Mamma caught him and told him to stand still.

Finally, one of the servants led four men and one woman in the house. Mamma, Nonno, and Papà left the di Angelo siblings alone in favor of their new visitors. Bianca, shy even for a nine-year-old, took Nico's hand. One look confirmed that she was close to tears. Nico did his best to smile at her, despite how overwhelmed he felt. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Focus on the good, Bianca. Papà's home."

Mamma ushered the visitors to the table. One of the visitors sat at the head of the table, where Nonno usually sat. Nonno sat to the man's right instead. Papà took the foot of the table, though he didn't seem too happy about it. Mamma pulled Nico and Bianca into the kitchen, handed them a plate of food, and said, "Eat here. Stay silent." Then, she took some food from the preparation room and started to serve the visitors.

One of the servants swung the door open, and Nico heard someone saying, "Eat, Mrs. di Angelo. Sit beside Rachele." Mamma didn't come back into the kitchen after that.

It was no fun, eating with the servants bustling around, unable to talk to Bianca. The night dragged on. With each passing minute, Nico thought the dinner must be over, yet it continued into the hours of the night, until Nico's eyes felt heavy. But Mamma said to stay put, and Bianca wouldn't let him disobey. Papà had told Bianca the same thing he told Nico, and she wouldn't let him down.

Finally, a servant came in from the dining room and said, "Miss di Angelo! Mr. di Angelo! Master Andrews asked for you!"

Nico and Bianca jumped up, all tiredness forgotten. As giddy as he was, Nico forced himself to calm down as Mamma asked, then led his sister into the dining room.

The adults were just about finished with their meal. Mamma and Rachele were chatting politely; Mamma no longer seemed on edge, at least. Nonno listened to one of the visitors, himself sporting an easy smile.

Nico didn't realize at the time how fake that smile was.

"Ah," Papà said, raising his wine glass in a sort of toast. "Here are my children, Nico and Bianca." Nico had never heard his father speak Italian before. It was bizarre.

Papà turned to them. "Introduce yourselves to Nonno's friends." Mamma glanced ever so slightly at Papà, shocked that he would refer to such important government officials in this way. He took no notice of it, nor did Nico, at the time.

"What beautiful children!" Rachele told Mamma.

"Thank you," Mamma said.

The man at the head of the table studied Nico and Bianca curiously. Finally, he nodded. "Fine grandchildren, Enrico. Strong, young Italians." The man sounded bored more than anything else, like the words were just for show.

Nevertheless, Nonno smiled graciously. "My daughter deserves the credit."

Mamma lowered her head, embarrassed from the attention. Papà put his hand on top of hers and squeezed. "Maria does her work well so I may do mine."

Nonno's friend turned to Nico. "Tell me, Nico, will you be a soldier?"

He should've simply said, " Sì, " and let the adults get back to their conversation, but with all eyes on him at last, he forgot about his promise to Mamma and Papà. "I'm going to be the greatest soldier ever, like Nonno was! I'm going to win all the metals and die for Italy like a hero!"

The floodgates had opened, and Bianca forgot her shyness. With glee, she cried, "I'm going to be the best Mamma ever! I'll have lots of sons, and they'll all be heroes like Nonno and Nico!"

Mamma, Papà, and Nonno froze. Suddenly, Nico remembered his promise and realized he'd made a mistake. Beside him, a guilty Bianca whimpered and hid behind Papà' shoulder, peeking her eyes out to study the crowd. It took all of Nico's bravery not to run to his father's other shoulder, but a soldier shouldn't hide.

Papà met the eye of the man at the head of the table. Something transpired between the two of them, something beyond Nico's comprehension. The man's eyes glazed over for a fraction of a second, then he blinked a few times. He turned to Mamma. "Your children are a bright future for Italy."

Mamma broke out in a smile. She met the man's eye, and said,

" Grazie, Il Duce... " Nico whispered. He hadn't remembered until that very moment. "Mussolini... we were... that was..."

"You had Benito Mussolini in your house?!" Will cried.

But Nico's mind was back in 1936.

Shortly after Nico and Bianca's outburst, Il Duce rose from the table, demanded to speak to Nonno, and the two departed. Mamma brought Nico and Bianca upstairs, her thoughts somewhere else. She left both of them in Bianca's room absent-mindedly and wandered away before she could correct her mistake and take Nico to his own bed.

"What's wrong with Mamma?" Bianca asked.

"Il Duce wants to take Nonno away," Nico whispered. "Mamma and Nonno were talking last night, and Mamma said he's going to Rome and if he goes to Rome someone will kill him."

Bianca's eyes welled up with tears. "No! They won't take Nonno!"

"We have to do something, Bianca," Nico decided. "We should go to Rome when Nonno does and protect him. That way, if someone tries to kill him, they'll kill us instead. We'll be the heroes."

Bianca nodded solemnly, tears running down her face. "I won't let anyone hurt Nonno."

"Nor will I," came Papà's voice from the doorway. Nico and Bianca met his grim expression with teary eyes. Papà walked further into the room, knelt down, and took his children's hands. "Listen to me. The day will come when you will fight for your family. You may even die fighting for your family. But that day is far away right now. I am watching over you, even when you do not see me. I will never let anyone hurt either of you or anyone you love." He wrapped them both in a warm hug as they cried into his arms.

But the hug had to end, and it did. Papà pulled away from Nico and said, "Nonno wants to speak to you. Go to his office."

Nico could only stand there. He wasn't ready to face the world yet.

Bianca pushed Papà's hand away and embraced Nico, then kissed him on the cheek. "You can save Nonno," she whispered in his ear. "Good luck, hero."

Her words gave him the strength to leave Papà's protection and march into Nonno's office. There, Nonno and Il Duce stood, locked in a serious conversation. At the sound of Nico's pattering feet, Il Duce held up a hand, and Nonno stopped talking.

Nico approached, quiet and respectful. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

"Come closer, Nico," Il Duce said. Behind him, Nonno tensed slightly but did nothing. Nico edged closer and closer until he was within a hand's reach of Il Duce. "I fought alongside Enrico during the Great War. He saved my life a thousand times. You have no better role model."

"Thank you, Il Duce," Nonno said robotically.

Il Duce didn't respond. His hawk's gaze remained fixed on the boy in front of him, as though Nico di Angelo was an atomic bomb-absurdly powerful, awe-inspiring, a weapon no one could restrain.

"I never met your father before today," Il Duce told Nico, "but I've met his family in Germany. Had I known about your mother's relationship sooner... but, that's another matter. Your father can't be here all the time, can he?"

"No, Il Duce," Nico said.

"He does important work when he's not by your side. My father was the same type of man, in a manner of speaking. The work your father does in Germany-and the family he has there-is of the utmost importance. He is to be respected, revered, and uninterrupted, even by me. So, I've decided that your grandfather could be best used here." Nonno's eyes went wide just long enough for Nico to take notice. "Governor of Rome is one thing, but the future of Italy is another. Boys need a father, and since yours cannot stay by your side, Enrico must."

He put his hand on Nico's shoulder. "I know the stock your father makes, Nico di Angelo. I expect great things from you. I expect you to be Italy's greatest hero."

END NOTES

Hey... I managed to write a scene with Bianca where she's 100% likable! For a character I like a lot, she sure is an asshole in this story... oops.

Here's what I wrote to my betas at the end of this chapter:
I just wrote an entire chapter about Nico di Angelo and Benito Mussolini. This is not what I expected when I sat down to write today. What the fuck.

Planner before I wrote this chapter:
- Nico has a flashback brought on by dementors.
- He and Will talk about it.
- Bring up more fascist childhood shit?

Planner after I finished the first draft of this chapter:
- Will and Nico talk about Mussolini
- Because after the last two chapters we need a break from the action, so... MUSSOLINI
- And let's throw some cute solangelo in there so the people are satisfied after they're like "WHY DOES THIS EXIST?"

SOURCES:
Wikipedia /Benito_Mussolini
Wikipedia /Italian_Army_ranks
Wikipedia /Mayor_of_Venice#Kingdom_of_Italy_(1866–1946)
Wikipedia /Mayor_of_Rome#Kingdom_of_Italy_(1870-1946)
Wikipedia /Giuseppe_Bottai#Political_career

This week's beta commentary:
STORY: I know the stock your father makes, Nico di Angelo.
LISSY: "Be like Hitler. He's a good role model."

STORY: "Come closer, Nico," Il Duce said.
OLI: all i know about Mussolini was that he was very charismatic (he was For The People- there are videos of him shirtless) he was a womanizer (reasons why he and Hitler didn't always get along) and he wanted to get the trains in Italy running on time and that literally never happened. Also, he gifted Hitler a fireplace (soldiers chipped pieces of it off when they lost WWII) and he kept a lamp on in his office so ppl would think he was working
LISSY: You know, when you get past the evil dictator stuff he's just this man-child pining for attention.
LISSY: And have I mentioned that I've been misreading "Il Duce" as "Il Dolce" for so long that my head won't stop calling this man a piece of chocolate?

Credits:
Melody Rose - Author (Tumblr melody0rose)
Oli - Beta Reader (Tumblr paradoxicalpsychic)
Suhalia - Beta Reader (Archive Of Our Own users/milkandtahoney/)

Please comment so I know what you think! See you tomorrow!