I made another chapter! You're welcome.

©Rick Riordan

©Scarlett Dove

Chapter II

Senses

Nico could sense everything around him. It was like being alive again after death, your senses are heightened. He could smell the bleach and the sickly smell that hung like a veil around him. Nico could feel the rough fabric of a sheet beneath his fingers and scratching his legs, the soft pillow that propped up his head, and a tube along his face. And if Nico really concentrated, he could feel the faintest of brushing along his forearm. He could see red behind his eyelids from the light streaming on his face.

But Nico could hear nothing other than the sound of his own soft breathing, the computerized beeping from a machine, and crying from his bedside.

The worst part was that Nico didn't have the energy to even open his eyes to see who was crying. It must be someone who cared for him, at least. Who else? But who's crying for him? His roommate would never cry for him; Nico barley knows him after all. And he's not close to anyone anymore to have someone at his side. Not even his family.

As Nico comes to think of it, why is he here? Shouldn't he be with his father by now? Shouldn't he be dead? Gone? Out of this world? Forced to stay in the underworld for all eternity? Apparently someone has something against him. Hasn't he lived long enough in this hell? Couldn't he go to the next one? Couldn't he get one break? He'd give anything for that break.

Nico's spent the last year trying to get that break. He was sick of it. Sick of feeling like he was drowning. Slow, steady, and constricting. That's what it felt like, like he was drowning, drowning in tar. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't live, he couldn't do anything. That's why he left, to try and feel again. Try to feel good again. Try to feel love again. Try to feel himself again...! Trying to forget… him.

Nico's wrist was squeezed. Not tightly, not harshly, but tenderly. Nico could almost say it was lovingly squeezed. But that seemed illogical. No one loved him. No one. His last so-called love left him crying and hurt. Hurt so much he had to leave. He had to relive. He had to not feel. Even while he tried to feel… Nico didn't want to.

He got fixes to feel good. He slept with people to feel love. He hurt himself to feel himself. And he got faded to forget him.

That's how it went for Nico daily.

Nico could hear the person squeezing his wrist saying his name. The person sounded like a mess. They kept fumbling over their words, granted, ninety percent of them were Nico's own name. But the other words and Nico, in his state could only make out a few of them, but they didn't make sense. Nico, don't, love, sorry. Four words. And none of them made sense to Nico. It annoyed Nico to an extent. But that could also be from the person babbling. What Nico wouldn't do to shut them up.

The person's voice changed suddenly. It was still raw, rough, and filled with tears but it got louder and almost happily panicked. Nico could hear footsteps now. A lot of them. Rushing into the room, the person squeezing his wrist moved away, or was pulled away.

There were so many voices now. They all sounded happy. What had Nico done? Why are they happy? Nico's confusion only grew when he felt small arms wrap around one of his arms. It stung. The arms were quickly withdrawn but there was a weight beside him. From the other side of his body someone brushed his cheek lightly. The person seemed afraid they were going to break Nico. If Nico could, he'd laugh.

It was tight around Nico suddenly. There was less air for him to breath. He could feel his chest rise and fall quickly. The beeping from the machine got louder and faster. Too fast. He couldn't breath. Voices were startled instead of happy. More footsteps came in the room and more came and faded as people were lead out of the room. A child was crying. And so was another person. The child's cries faded but the persons stayed beside him as the person stroked Nico's forearm.

The redness from his eyelids was fading quickly and turning into blackness. Nico was fading again. There was a weight on his chest and a lump in his throat.

A startled sob came from the crying person before Nico faded completely.

What did Nico do?

I'm trying something where I write and I only check it for grammar and spelling and read through it once, it's supposedly good to do for writing, so if I spelt anything wrong or anything, tell me, please.

Anyways, hoped you liked it, I really like writing this, even though I wrote it originally to be a tragic one-shot. It still works.

I will hopefully up-date this soon,

Review!

Scar :}