Yes, it's short as fuck but my mom will be home any minute and technically, I'm asleep. Enjoy, read, & review. Oh, Happy Valentines :)

Nico

When Skyler gasps, I instantly break off my sentence and dart towards her, catching her as she falls. She's light, lighter than any fifteen-year-old girl should be. I'd carried her before, but I guess I never noticed. She hangs limply, tangled brown hair falling haphazardly around her face, hiding some of the freckles on her pale cheeks. Her brown eyes are shut, mouth slightly open. I shift her, and it closes softly. Percy's watching us, a mildly shocked expression still present on his face.

We're silent for a moment, both of us still kind of stunned.

"You didn't do anything to help her." He says softly. I scowl, turning my face away.

"I couldn't. She wouldn't let me open the door. She was hurt enough as it is, I didn't want to injure her by opening it anyways, though I could've." I told bitterly "Why didn't you? You have the hero complex."

He winces, then. "I thought you would. So I IM'd Chiron."

I reach towards her bed, grabbing the straps of her bag and hooking a finger through the laces of her shoes. Percy swears and latches onto my arm seconds before I disappear into the shadows.

Shadow traveling, for me, isn't as bad as I've heard people describe it. For one, it's because I'm finding the right portal of sorts to exit out of, the right shadow. Also, I was never afraid of the dark. I don't feel the whole my-skin-is-peeling-off-of-my-face thing either.

Shit, almost missed it.

I stepped out of the shadows of the infirmary, Percy stumbling to his knees as we exited. The Apollo kid on duty, a tall, slim guy with a playboy magazine he hurriedly threw under the desk jumped at our entrance. His eyes were wide as he took in our appearance, and I almost laughed.

He's me, forming out of tendrils of shadow with an unconscious girl in my arms, bits of shadow still clinging to my black clothing, her rainbow duffle hanging limply from one hand, black hightops hooked on my finger. Percy stands, brushing off his shirt, nodding to the kid, and strides out. I rolled my eyes at his attempt to regain his dignity, and gently laid Skyler down on the nearest bed. I tugged down her gray hoodie where it rode up, winding my fingers through her.

Apollo boy is by her other side, a hand on her head as he concentrates. I take this opportunity to scan the back of his shirt, where there's now our last names and our cabin, as we have so many damn demigods running around no one can keep track. It reads some generic name that slips my mind again the moment I look away, which is when he gasps.

"Damn, Neeks, what'd you do to her?" He asks incredulously. I stare at him calmly for a moment, a blank, unnerving gaze that works like a charm When he starts to squirm, I flick my eyes to his wrist, where he screams as he notices the shadows creeping up his arm like whispy snakes. I don't need to say anything, and I release the shadows as soon as he sees them. Pale and shaking, he apologizes and stumbles back to get supplies from the closet.

He returns moments later, and I look up from her face, but don't release her hand, rubbing circles on the back of it. I watch as he carefully applies ointment and salves to her bruises, something we've found stops scars, before dripping a little nectar down her throat. She wakes with a gasp, and I stop staring at him, and out of the corner of my eyes I notice he visibly relaxes. Smirking to myself, I focus on Sky.

Her eyes, mocha brown, are wide and she gasps in her every breath. Her cheeks are flushed, and her skin is pale, but she doesn't seem to be in much pain. Her gaze flickers wildly around the room, stopping when it lands on me. Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. After a beat pf tense silence, a sob pushes it's way through.

She reddens considerably darker, trying and failing to hold a scowl as tears begin to fall. Not bothering to acknowledge Apollo boy, who stammers out protests, I pick her up and cradle her while she cries. She winds her fists tight into my shirt, high enough where I can't put her down without taking it off. Her face is buried by my shoulder, and she's silently shaking.

As much as I hate the sun, she loves it; so I take her outside and head towards the back of Persephone's cabin, where I'm friends with a few of the kids and the garden has a private bench bathed in warm light. Thankfully, the cabin was at an activity and we weren't be disturbed.

I held her until she stopped crying, and even after until she finally lifted her face and pulled away. I let her scoot a few inches a way, wiping her face with her sleeves and sniffing pathetically. She mumbled something under her breath.

"Pardon?" I inquired softly.

"M'sorry." She whispered. Considerably shorter than whatever she mumbled, but whatever. She'd tell me if she wanted me to know.

"Don't be." I replied, just as soft. "You have to manage things no one, no one should have to deal with. Don't ever apologize for that, okay? It's not your fault, love." She presses a hand to her mouth, shaking her head mutely.

"Don't try to feed me any bullshit, either." I add, thinking how sometimes an abusive parent will brainwash the kid into thinking it's their fault. "I don't care what she told you, it's not true. You're smart, beautiful, and an amazing person. Do not let her take that away from you."

She turns away, and I can see she's fighting back more tears. I gently pull her chin towards me, but she won't look me in the eye. Her body is slightly shaky, from the exhaustion, no doubt, and fighting off the tears she hates to shed. She's strong, stronger than I am, and than most of the people here.

She withstood that abuse from that crazy botch for I don't know how long, and she's never broken. She's headstrong, and she's got a temper, but she's down to earth and incredibly intelligent. She's far from perfect, but I haven't met anyone more real.

So maybe she's got a bit of an overbite, and her skin's a bit too pale and her freckles stand out. She's very fragile, thin as a reed, and she never goes without her hoodies. But she's reliable and loyal, she can pack a punch, and she's fiery and willful to the point of being headstrong and stubborn. She doesn't back down, and I've rarely seen her cry.

So to see her so sad, so distinctly broken, is a bit of a shock. She sucks in a few breaths, each steadier than the last, then lowers her hand and pulls away from my hand, though she looks me in the eye now. I can she she's put up all her walls again, walls it'd taken me months to tear down, but that I know she needs right now.

I lean towards her, keeping our eyes locked, finally pressing a soft kiss against her lips. She gives a shuddering sigh, her eyes closing and the tension relaxing from her body. I keep the kiss slow, filling it with every once of soft passion I can manage. I don't know if she realizes it, but I've been in love with her for a while. How can I not?

She tastes like blood and tears, and I guess it's a testament to my earlier confession that I don't pull away. I let her decide when she had enough, and she pulls away after another minute or so. I lean my forehead against hers, watching her expression carefully. Her eyes are closed, and she sighs softly. I grin when I see the barely-there smile tugging at the corners of her lips.