What I should be doing: homework, short story for the literary magazine, or writing.

What I am doing: this, reading fanfics and watching the west wing.

You lucky bastards.

A trickle of milky white water dripped from the branch into a bowl. Around him, the Cabin Fifteen, children of Hypnos, slept soundly. They wouldn't wake up for World War III. He reached out a trembling hand. Just one drop would erase everything. All the emotions swirling around his head, killing him from the inside, it would all be gone.

A hand caught his arm.

"Don't you dare," Percy snarled. Nico looked up at him in shock.

"Let go," he hissed.

"No," said Percy. He dragged Nico out of Cabin Fifteen.

"Percy! Please! Just let me go, let me forget!" Nico struggled against his grip, but he was weak from malnutrition and Percy was much bigger.

"Nico, if I thought it would help, don't you think I would have done it already myself?" asked Percy. "It won't help, not the way you think it will. Just because the memories are gone, doesn't mean the thoughts and feelings that are making you sick will too. You'll just feel worse not knowing why. Remember Bob? He started to remember after a while, and you're starting to remember your mom. Unless the water touches your bare soul, the memories will come back."

Nico sank to the ground. He wished he was dead.

"I can't stand it," he whispered. "Bianca, the Labyrinth, Tartarus, being suffocated in that damn jar, everything, I can't stop thinking about it. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't stand being alive. I feel like I'm going crazy. You were there, you know."

"No, Nico, I don't know. I have no idea." Percy crouched beside him, putting one of Nico's arms over his shoulders, half pulling, half supporting him until they were standing. "You were all alone in those places. I was always there with Annabeth. I barely made it out with her, I would have died alone. It was so much worse for you, and it's a miracle you're still here. Of course you feel like you're going crazy."

Nico felt like crying.

"C'mon." Percy dragged him to Cabin Three and pushed the door open.

Annabeth was curled up in one of the lower bunks, but when they came in she opened her eyes. She didn't say anything, just pulled the covers back expectantly.

Nico looked at Percy in confusion. Annabeth rolled her eyes and pulled him onto the bed next to her. Percy climbed in next, pulled the covers up and reached across Nico to link hands with Annabeth.

At first it was all kinds of awkward for Nico, but it was warm, and the sound of their heartbeats was soothing. The feeling of love and security was almost tangible in between them, even asleep, and being in the middle of it felt like being filled with warm water from both sides.

Soon he was drifting off.

Nico couldn't breathe.

It was dark, and he could feel the walls closing in around him, crushing him. He struggled to get air in his lungs, but there was nothing in between his body and the walls surrounding him, and was unable to tell if his eyes were open or closed. It didn't seem to make a difference. He tried to call for help, to push back, but he couldn't move, couldn't make a sound. His head felt light and fuzzy, his muscles weak.

Help. Help . . . . Someone . . . Percy, help me. I'm dying.

I'm dying.

Please, let me die.

Nico gasped awake, shaking, clutching at his chest. Rasping sobs racked his body as tried to breath.

Two pairs of warm hands rubbed his back and stroked his hair, wiping the tears from his cheeks. Soft voices murmured comfortingly.

Nico lay back, calming down at the attention. Arms wrapped around him tightly, holding him close. Nico relaxed into their embrace.

He wasn't alone. He could breathe.

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