The sunlight sparkled off the brilliant sapphire surface of the lake of Camp Half-Blood as Nico sat beside it, idly throwing stones into it, watching as they made the surface ripple and rise up, before eventually, everything settled back into calm clarity. "This was definitely the moment for some philosophy", Nico thought, "Yup, If I'm ever gonna have any philosophical thoughts, it's gonna be now". He sat there for a few seconds, before returning to transferring stones from the lake-shore to the lake-bottom.

Nico had never been the philosophical type. Even after his trip through Tartarus, there had been no big "It's Eternity in there" or "God save us all" moment. It had just been fear. Cold, dreadful fear, that crept up his sides and spine as he lay asleep at night, trying to forget. Those eyes, chaotic and red... That gaping maw... the maw of Tartarus... of Hell.
He silently chuckled to himself as he considered the similarities between Tartarus and Hell.

When he was young, practically every teacher, priest, government officer... you name it, they were all saying one thing. "Men who love other men go to Hell". Looks like they were right.

But Nico had survived his trip into the Pit. He had made it out. He had lived. He was, he supposed, the shining example of some kind of redeemed saint, rising from Hell itself
Nico couldn't help but laugh at the thought of labelling himself a saint.

Over the course of his fourteen years of life, Nico di Angelo had been many things - Prince of the Underworld, Percy-and-Mythomagic-obsessed fool, The Ghost King, the son of Pluto, the son of Hades... but never a saint. Sainthood was not something he thought of as good. Why ? Maybe because the ones who preached the lessons imparted by said saints had also preached burning people like him at stake.

He didn't know exactly when he had grown so cynical, so cold, so unresponsive to human connection. Maybe it had been when he had first realized just how different he was from others, and just how much that difference could cost him. Maybe it had been when his mother died. Maybe it happened when he learned that the boy he saw as an ideal to be reached was just a human, fallible and prone to error. Maybe it happened when he lost his sister. Maybe when he was dragged down to Tartarus. Maybe when the one person he thought he could trust, Minos, betrayed him. (He blamed no one but himself for that one. A myth-fanatic like him should have known better)

Regardless, it was for the best. Pushing others away was how the son of Hades protected himself. He had always been different, been... off, been... strange, creepy, weird. Back in his old life, before the Casino, when he had been a finocchio, a gay boy, who, by the religion he followed, should be killed, and now, in this new, more progressive era, when no one wanted the son of Hades. He was just... a useful weapon to be used, and then... thrown aside. Disposable, to Percy, to Jason, to Chiron, to his father and... to Bianca, who threw him aside the first chance she got, leaving him in favour of the Huntresses. Well, maybe that wasn't entirely fair. Jason and Percy, at least, seemed to care. That was just the way they were, he supposed. Magnets for friends, somehow able to befriend everyone they met. It was impressive how close they seemed to be with practically everyone. On the other hand, Nico was perhaps the exact opposite

But that was all in the past. Did he had tons of untreated mental illnesses caused by past trauma ? Absolutely ! But who gave enough of a fuck about the creepy, worthless son of Hades to actually notice, right ? Will seemed to care, but he didn't actually do shit, so...

Nico threw in another stone, watching as it slowly sank to the bottom, thinking back to his past. The water in the lake shimmered a beautiful sea-green. He sighed again.

He still remembered how close the Argonauts had been, how they had hugged each other and smiled over their victory and cried over Leo's death, and how cold their interactions with Nico seemed in comparision. Oh, they were kind and nice and all that shit, but in the end, they were distant. Nico wasn't one of them. He was an outsider, who had helped them, and therefore, should be thanked. Nico scoffed and threw another stone into the lake with perhaps more force than necessary, watching as the droplets of water formed an arch in the air

Regardless, that was the way things were, and presumably, the way they would always be. He envied Hazel sometimes, and the way everyone seemed to love her despite her powers being as cursed as Nico's own. For someone born in the past, like Nico, into a world that disliked people like her, again, like Nico, she was sure much better at making friends than him.

Maybe it was because of how different their powers were. Hazel summoned sparkling gemstones and precious metals from the core of the Earth. So what if the things she summoned were a little cursed ? It was still a far more appealing power that Nico's who, on the other hand, summoned and reanimated long-dead bones and rotting flesh, which, while more reliable than Hazel's cursed gems, were far creepier.

He couldn't blame them, in a way. Why sit with the brooding, emo, creepy son of Hades when you have a whole camp-full of sociable and amiable demigods you could befriend instead ? In their shoes, he would probably have done the same thing.

He sighed again, before startling as he felt someone sit down beside him

"Hey ! Whatcha doing ?", Will Solace grinned, his smile reflecting the sunlight directly into Nico's eyes

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