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i.
When Percy Jackson goes to college, Nico honestly doesn’t think much of it.
Don’t get him wrong, Nico is happy for Percy, glad he had gotten into New Rome just like he’d wanted (although, let’s be real what administrator of a demigod university was going to reject the Percy Jackson?) He's glad Annabeth would be close by in Berkeley and listens to Percy's excited chatter about classes and the swim team he wants to join and how he’ll enjoy his glorious retirement from questing. Hell, Nico even helps him clean out all his crap from Cabin 3 and only minimally complains about it.
But as for how Percy going to college was going to affect Nico, personally? Well, he really hadn’t thought it would.
Because Percy is the guy who had quested all over North America, he’s the one who led them into battle and negotiated peace, he’s the guy who took on not one but two prophesies, and regularly called out the gods on their bullshit. He’s the one people looked to when something went wrong, he kept calm and took charge and he always knew what to do. He’s Camp Half-Blood’s leader and that was something that 3,000 miles and a college sweatshirt would never change.
After all, he’s Percy Jackson.
So, it’s weird when in late August, Chiron asks Nico to chair the head counselor meeting.
It wasn’t a big deal or anything. It was just that someone more…experienced or something did that. Someone who wasn’t Nico.
Then Nico realises that he’s been going to these things for like three years now and there was no reason for him not to lead the meeting.
It was just weird.
It is their first head counselor meeting since the summer session of camp ended and when he arrives, sitting in the chair at the head of the ping-pong table, the seat usually reserved for either Percy or Annabeth, it strikes him suddenly just how many head counselors had moved on recently. Connor Stoll had cleared out for business school and Cecil Markowitz had officially taken over Cabin 11. With Piper McLean in Oklahoma for the school year Mitchell had been entrusted with the welfare of Cabin 10, same for Malcom with Cabin 6. And most concerningly, with Nyssa also now in college, Leo Valdez had made Harley his second-in-command at the ripe old age of 9.
The meeting itself is a pretty boring affair. They discuss how they’ll divide classes for activities to accommodate for a reduced number of campers and suggest bringing in a few Math and English tutors so the year-rounder kids can keep up some semblance of an education.
It’s more of a formality than anything else and Nico's only real responsibility is making sure everyone's opinion is heard and shutting down any unrealistic ideas (no Clovis, they can't add Competitive Napping to the list of optional activities). All in all, they’re released from the Big House within the hour.
Afterwards Chiron smiles proudly in that teacher-y way of his and Will kisses his cheek and tells him how well he did. Which is nice. But it’s not a big deal.
It’s not like it means anything.
ii.
Nico’s first trial comes in the form of a 9-year-old son of Tyche, Jeremy Lewandowski, a boy who even by half-blood standards was intensely ADHD. His extreme impulsivity coupled with his bizarre good luck made him a walking insurance risk. That past summer had been Jeremy’s first at Camp Half-Blood and in 3 months he had made quite the impact after a series of, shall we say, shenanigans.
The kid had repeatedly tried to trap one of the cleaning harpies as a pet, succeeding in stealing Chiron’s wheelchair and taking it for a joyride down Half-Blood Hill, climbed to the top of Thalia’s Pine where he stayed for approximately 10 hours in an effort to win an intense game of hide-and-go-seek and then there was the time he had wandered into the woods, returning with a dead snake skin formerly belonging to Python, leftover from Apollo’s stint as a mortal, which he proceeded to drag through the green at dusk causing no small amount of chaos as the campers, fearing a resurgence of the great beast, had rushed out of their cabins in haphazardly thrown on armour and proceeded to stab the lifeless husk of skin with a variety of very sharp objects.
(The paperwork for that one had been a nightmare.)
The fact that Jeremy had immediately hit it off with Harley was of no great surprise but considerable concern to everyone. The inventor of the Three-Legged Death Race and the boy who thus far had proven to be unkillable was a worrying combination.
Their joint chaotic genius had spawned the increasingly popular game of Ding Dong Deathtrap, which was a lot like Ding Dong Ditch except that instead of finding an empty doorstep, when you opened the door you found a deadly weapon waiting to impale, snare or decapitate you.
Even by mid-September Sherman’s foot still hasn’t healed quite right from stepping in that bear trap.
So, when Nico is doing a head count for his beginner’s sword class and notices that a certain son of Tyche is suspiciously absent, he knows nothing good can follow.
“Godsdamnit, where’s Jeremy?” he asks, knowing the answer would almost surely give him a headache.
“He’s on the climbing wall,” Harley chirps.
“You mean the climbing wall that’s currently spewing lava?”
“Yes.”
“The climbing wall Chiron specifically said no one could touch until we had a safety talk? That wall?” Nico clarifies.
“Yes,” Harley confirms. Yep, there’s the headache.
Like any good hero Nico takes moment to heave a tired sigh before taking action.
“Carlos, run and get the first aid kit,” he orders a son of Nike. “In fact, just bring whoever is on shift at the infirmary. We might need a stretcher.”
Upon reaching the lava climbing wall Nico and his class find Jeremy Lewandowski clinging to a ledge about three quarters up the wall, lava creeping ever closing and threatening to burn him alive.
In full knowledge of the lecture he will undoubtedly receive, Nico quickly shadow travels to the ledge to rescue the boy. He ends up with a nasty burn on his arm. Naturally, Jeremy comes out of it without a scratch.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Nico asks once they are safely returned to the ground.
If Nico expected Jeremy to be shaken up from his latest near-death experience or even slightly disorientated from shadow travelling, he is sorely disappointed.
“That was awesome!” he exclaims joyously, “Can I go again? I think I can make it to the top this time.”
Nico has to take several calming breaths after that.
And to top it all off, Will, (who was the one on shift at the infirmary) has absolutely no sympathy for him.
Seriously. His own boyfriend.
Long gone were the days that Nico could expect a decent bedside manner from their resident doctor. No more 3-day infirmary rests for him.
Oh no. Now it was all ‘Sit still so I can assess the wound’ and ‘Eat your ambrosia’ and ‘Stop whining, you’ll live.’
Honestly it was a wonder why Nico stayed with Will Solace.
(Other than the fact he was hopelessly and irretrievably in love with him…but that was beside the point.)
iii.
There is a tentative guide programme set up between Camp Half-Blood’s satyrs and Camp Jupiter’s fauns. Something Grover Underwood had advocated for and worked on as a passion project when he wasn’t off being the Lord of the Wild. The Council of Cloven Elders had taken some convincing but ultimately it was decided that more guides on the ground, helping demigods in distress, was better than letting fauns run rampant around New Rome when their skills could be put to better use.
Consequently, in October, Nico is assigned to travel to Missouri to help an inexperienced faun pick up a half-blood who had been classed as ‘at risk’. Which probably meant there were monsters sniffing around.
Perfect.
It’s a standard retrieval job, you couldn’t even go so far as to call it a quest. Nico doesn’t think too hard about it to be honest.
His mind is more occupied with other things, like the advanced sword class he had somehow been roped into teaching twice a week and the upcoming visit from the Hunters of Artemis. He’d never admit it, but Nico was excited to see Reyna again (and to kick her ass at Capture the Flag but mostly to see her.) They had kept in regular contact and he had her postcards from all over the country proudly displayed on a tac board above his desk in Cabin 13. It had been too long since they had the chance to hang out in person.
But first Nico needs to pick up the new half-blood.
Originally, he had wanted to simply shadow travel to Missouri but he doesn't even bother to voice that suggestion at the meeting because Will knows him far too well and is giving him the ‘don’t you even think about it’ glare. So, he reluctantly agrees to go with Butch in the flying chariot instead, even though Nico hasn’t felt comfortable about flying since the nightmare journey to Greece on the Argo II (and he’s pretty sure the Pegasi talk shit about him behind his back). But overall it was agreed that flying chariots pose significantly less risk of blacking out.
Stupid medical recommendations.
Thankfully Butch is a pretty chill guy and the journey to Missouri is spent in mostly companionable silence, broken only by a conversation about Mythomagic and the occasional exchange of gossip, ‘Did you hear Chiara and Damian broke up?’ ‘Again?’ ‘Last Tuesday.’ ‘Called it! Cecil owes me 20 bucks.’
They park the chariot down the street from the middle school where Alvin the faun is anxiously waiting for them in the parking lot with a kid no older than 10. The look of fearful curiosity on his face when they arrive is not unfamiliar to Nico. He felt like that all the time when he first found out about the gods.
Poor kid, it only gets weirder from here.
“Thank Jupiter, you’re here,” Alvin sighs, relieved.
“No problem Al,” Nico replies, shaking the faun’s hand.
“This is Adam Miller,” Alvin informs them, and the boy smiles nervously.
“Hi Adam, I’m Nico and this is Butch. We’re going to take you some place safe, okay?”
“Okay,” he replies quietly.
“You sure he’s one of ours?” Butch asks Alvin.
“Positive. He’s no Roman.”
“And you got parental consent, right?” he checks.
The last thing they need is a kidnapping charge. Honestly, you forget to fill out one permission slip and suddenly there’s an Amber Alert out and a state-wide manhunt going on.
“Yeah, his father thinks this is best for now. We’ve had a few…incidents.”
“Like what?” Nico asks.
And just because the Fates love to mess with Nico, a hulking shape looms around the corner from the school building at that very moment. The unmistakable figure of a Hyperborean Giant.
Just wonderful.
“Incidents like that,” Alvin says, the colour draining from his suntanned face.
“Tasty, tasty half-bloods,” the monster roars, gleeful grin exposing a mouthful of yellowing teeth.
Fucking fantastic.
Nico had fought a couple of these guys during the Battle of Manhattan. They were big and strong but as stupid as they were ugly.
“Alvin, Butch, get the kid out of here,” Nico orders, drawing his sword.
“But-” Al begins to protest.
“Just go!” Nico cuts him off as the giant lurches its way towards them with great strides.
“Don’t do anything stupid di Angelo.” Butch warns, already hauling Alvin and Adam out of the parking lot. “Will is gonna be super pissed if I don’t bring you back in one piece.”
He just has enough time to roll his eyes in exasperation before charging towards the giant.
iv.
Later, when Nico limps down the street, covered in monster dust and blinking black spots from his vision, he finds that Butch has gotten Adam settled in the chariot.
“You okay, man?” Alvin calls out.
“Rolled my ankle,” he mutters and Butch tosses him a squished zip-lock bag of ambrosia. Truthfully, it was a little worse than that, he really shouldn’t have used shadow travel to evade and confuse the giant. But there is no way he’s letting himself pass out in front of the new kid. Not a chance.
“Is it gone?” Adam asks. He sounds so young, voice shaking, just a kid. They were all just kids once.
“Yep, it’s gone. You’re safe.” Nico does his best to smile but his ankle is still twinging in pain, so he isn’t sure how well he pulls it off.
Adam smiles back though, a bright, awe-filled grin, so Nico must be doing something right.
They say their goodbyes to Alvin and then it’s nothing but the flap of pegasi wings and the rush of the open air as they climb skywards.
When they reach cruising altitude, the kid seems to have gotten over his initial shock, enough to reveal an intense curiosity. He talks so fast and so animatedly that Nico can barely catch his questions.
“Can I fight monsters? Will I get to kill a giant some day? Do I get a cool black sword too?” Adam asks with all the enthusiasm of a bright-eyed fifth grader.
“Fighting monsters isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Nico replies. He thinks briefly of all the half-bloods he’d seen die by tooth and claw and fights back a shudder. Memories like that were of no use to anyone.
“And this is Stygian iron,” he continues absently, unsheathing his sword to show the boy, “most Greek demigods use celestial bronze weapons.”
“Oh. How come yours is different?”
“I’m the son of Hades,” Nico says, sheathing his sword. “A lot of things about me are different.”
This was perhaps cutting down on a lot of information, but Nico is exhausted, and his ankle still sort of hurts and his thoughts had wandered bleakly down a melancholy path. Understandably, he’s not exactly in the mood for a Q&A session.
Adam, however, is not deterred.
“HADES?” he shrieks excitedly, “Like the god of the Underworld? That is so freakin’ cool!”
Oh gods. What has he gotten himself into?
Nico reminds himself that Adam has had a very distressing day and these questions are only natural. He just has to be patient and understanding.
Nico’s patience and understanding wears out by Indiana. By the time they’re over Pennsylvania he is ready to jump out of the chariot.
“Have you been to the Underworld? What’s it like? Are there like corpses and zombies running around. Or – or is it like in the Hercules movie and all the dead people are just like floating in a whirlpool of ghostiness?” Adam rambles.
Nico has no idea what a ‘whirlpool of ghostiness’ is and wonders idly what the people over at Disney are saying about his father’s domain. Maybe he’s better off not knowing.
“It’s…alright, I guess,” he manages, because what was he supposed to say to the kid?
'My room in the palace has a great view of the Fields of Asphodel. Sometimes at night you can hear the screams of tortured souls. My dead best friend has a condo in Elysium.’
Yeah…no. Way too depressing.
“Wait, if Hades is your Dad, does that mean you can see GHOSTS?”
Dear gods, just why?
When they finally arrive back at Camp that evening, they’re just in time for dinner. Nico has never felt so happy to see that stupid fucking statue on the crest of Half-Blood Hill.
He’s home.
Nico grabs his food and doesn’t notice that Adam is still following him until he’s about to bite into his barbecue.
“Hey, kid, you’re over there at Table 11 for now,” he says in the kindest voice he can muster.
“Oh. I thought maybe I could sit with you?” Adam asks hopefully.
Oh gods.
“Uh…it doesn’t work that way,” Nico explains. “Everyone has to eat with their cabin and until you’re claimed you’ll be staying in the Hermes Cabin.”
“I thought you were the only one in your cabin? Why are you sitting here?” Adam questions.
Shit.
“He’s got you there, Angel,” Will points out unhelpfully from beside him.
“I have a doctor’s note!” Nico exclaims, perhaps louder than he should. All he wants, is to go to his cabin, climb into bed and go to sleep, and if he is asked one more question he might actually burst into tears from sheer frustration.
“I’m his doctor,” Will smiles, lacing their fingers together under the table. Something which never fails to make Nico feel all warm and giddy inside.
And suddenly, he isn’t so frustrated anymore.
“The Hermes kids are really nice, Adam,” Nico tells him encouragingly. “You’ll make friends right away, I promise.”
Adam looks over at Table 11 nervously, as usual their table is noticeably fuller than the others. Luckily, Adam is a confident kid.
“Okay. Bye Nico!” he chirps happily.
“Looks like someone has a new shadow,” Will says squeezing his hand underneath the table.
Over time these casual signs of affection had become just that, casual. Nico no longer felt self-conscious of them, didn't startle and blush over a peck on the cheek, or tense if Will took his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. They still bickered and teased each other but there was an easiness to this relationship that made Nico overwhelmingly comfortable, like falling asleep in the afternoon sun.
“Well, while I was out saving innocent children, what did you do today, Sunshine?” he asks, squeezing Will’s hand back to let him know he’s joking.
His boyfriend smiles and Nico forgets why he was so annoyed just moments ago. Today he’d saved a kid, stopped a monster and gotten out of doing cabin inspections.
All in all, it had been a pretty good day.
After dinner Nico brings Adam to the Big House to watch the orientation film. It had been updated just after the war with Gaea and would hopefully answer the rest of his ceaseless questions. The young half-blood is left in Chiron’s capable hands (hooves?) but as he leaves the Big House, Nico can hear the opening.
‘So, you’re a half blood. One of your parents is a Greek god, the question is, how are you going to deal with it? Maybe you’ve always felt a little different. Take it from a guy who once vaporised his pre-algebra teacher, a half-blood’s life is never easy. I’m Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, and over the next 45 minutes I’m going to tell you everything you need to know about being a demigod...’
Nico can’t help but laugh to himself.
That never gets old.
v.
Adam, whose enthusiasm had decidedly not been curbed by the orientation film, fits right in with the other kids at camp. Almost immediately he is claimed by Hebe and moves into Cabin 18, much to the delight of Paolo, who adores all children, but his half-siblings especially. But despite making friends easily, Adam persists in following Nico around like an imprinted duckling.
At first it was sort of sweet but after three weeks it’s really starting to get on his nerves.
Now, don’t get him wrong. Nico likes the boy just fine, Adam is a nice kid, a great kid in fact! And it’s got to be said, he’s very cute, huge brown eyes and the most pinchable of cheeks. He is polite and energetic and takes direction well.
But by the gods he’s annoying. Nico feels bad for even thinking it because it wasn’t like Adam is doing any harm, but Nico would like him a whole lot better if he left him alone every once and a while.
It has only been in recent years that Nico has gotten used to the concept of having friends. He is wholly unprepared for a fan.
But Adam seems to find him fascinating, asking an endless number of questions about his quests and the monsters he had fought and his powers. Oddly specific questions about how often he sharpens his sword and who his favourite Mythomagic character is.
Unfortunately, this enthusiasm for all things half-blood makes Adam especially…eager when it comes to training.
Nico is showing Carlos how to adjust his grip on the training sword when Kacey, a daughter of Hecate approaches him with teary eyes, bloodstained shirt, and two hands clamped over her bleeding nose.
“It was an accident, I swear!” Adam implores him from behind her.
Oh gods.
“Okay, you’re okay,” Nico says in his most soothing voice, “Just..uh..”
Fuck
Were you supposed to tilt the head forwards or backwards for a nosebleed?
Shit. Will would know.
Outwardly, Nico is doing his utmost best to stay calm. It’s just a bit of blood, nothing he hasn’t seen before. But inwardly, there are a hundred little tiny Nicos running around in his brain, ringing alarm bells and screaming.
It was something like head between the knees, right? Something like that?
No, fuck, that was for nausea!
So, it must be backwards right? Otherwise your brain fell out of your nose or something…No that’s ridiculous! So forward then? Yeah forward.
He tries to remember the mandatory first aid seminar they had last spring. Will had run it. He was so cute when he talked about first aid. Rambling about the symptoms of concussion and the importance of properly disinfecting wounds. His eyes just lit up. And when he got really excited, he started dropping his Gs, the Texan in him coming through more pronounced without him even noticing.
Shit. Focus di Angelo!
“Alright Kacey, just tilt you head forward and pinch really tight. You’re gonna be fine,”
Nico is like 96% sure this is right.
“Carlos, run and get the first aid kit and see if you can find an icepack in the infirmary,” he orders. Gods, he hopes this is right. Nico is far more familiar with the patient role in this scenario.
“I really didn’t mean to Nico, swear! It was an accident I didn’t mean to hurt her. Honest!” Adam gushes rapidly. Poor kid, if a bloody nose was the worst injury Kacey ever received, she would be considered a rare and lucky demigod. Hell, the Ares kids did worse to each other just for fun!
“I know you didn’t, Adam. These things happen, even though we use blunted swords for beginners, they can still cause a lot of damage. That’s why we have to be extra careful. And that goes for everyone. Got it?” he says sternly, looking around at his class.
There is a chorus of ‘Yes Nico’ before they all return to their sparring partners.
Thankfully Kacey’s nose seems to have stopped bleeding by the time Carlos returns with the first aid kit. In fact, he does them one better and returns to the arena with Will in tow.
“Hey there, soldier,” he greets Kacey brightly, “What happened here?”
Kacey allows Will to clean her up and gently apply the icepack. Nico would like to thank all the gods, regardless of their pantheon, for the blessing that is Will Solace and his fantastic ability to not only heal but also make children smile.
Kacey is able to finish their session and Adam doesn’t hit anyone in the face for the rest of the day.
Nico considers that a success.
vi.
By the time December rolls around, Nico is seriously confused about why so many people keep coming up to him to ask when he leaves for New Rome.
The Saturnalia celebrations at Camp Jupiter were legendary and last time he checked; only important people were invited. And despite being a two-time war veteran and the Ambassador to Pluto, Nico had never been asked before.
Usually they sent Piper and Leo as their Greek representatives, bona fide heroes of Olympus whose combination charm and eccentricity is ideally suited to public functions, and that was that.
Apparently, people were under the impression that Nico had somehow ascended to the same echelons of demigod society, despite doing nothing to get himself there. This has been an increasing source of agitation for him, as people have started to look to him as some sort of authority, asking for his opinion where it was previously irrelevant and deferring to his judgement on matters he had no particularly strong feelings about (the delicate politics behind why there had to be a unanimous agreement among the head counselors in order to remodel the Pegasus stables was simply beyond Nico’s comprehension). Suddenly it seems he must assume responsibility for things, something he wasn’t really in the business of doing unless absolutely necessary and it feels all too close to something like leadership.
“I just don’t get it,” he huffs to Will as they put up holiday decorations in the unusually quiet infirmary, “they talk to me like I’m supposed to know stuff. Like I’m the new Percy or something.”
Nico expects Will to laugh at this, shrug off his concerns as unfounded and tell him he’s being over-dramatic like usual.
He is wrong.
“Okay, babe, don’t take this the wrong way. But, you kind of are the new Percy.”
Nico immediately drops the paper-chain snowflakes he’s holding.
“What?”
“Well, think about it,” Will says casually, as if he has not just unleashed havoc in Nico’s brain, “who else is going to take his place as our fearless leader?”
“That is ridiculous, I’m nothing like Percy!” he protests, because Percy is…well he’s Nico’s friend but he’s also stubborn as all Hell and chronically oblivious and unreasonably obsessed with blue food.
“You’re a Big Three kid, you fought in both wars, you’re scarily powerful and you’ve been known to be a little…unpredictable.”
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
“Unpredictable?” he squawks. “What in Hades is that supposed to mean?
“Nico, Angel, you ran away from camp when you were 10 and no one heard from you for like 7 months, you showed up late to the Battle of Manhattan with an army of the undead, some people still call you the Ghost King, and you dragged a 50ft statue across 3 continents.”
Oh.
Well, when you put it like that.
“Nico?” Will ask hesitantly, when he gets no response.
“I need a nap,” Nico announces.
And with that, he retreats to his cabin to brood on this revelation.
vii.
On the winter solstice, the year-round residents of Camp Half-Blood are invited to Mount Olympus, as per tradition, to enjoy a cursory tour and avail of the marginal opportunity to see their godly parent in person.
Much to his relief, Nico does not have to go to Camp Jupiter to make small talk with old war veterans and stuffy political types. That job is handed off to Annabeth and Percy since they’re already in California and were spending Christmas with the Chases in San Francisco anyway.
Unfortunately, this means Nico is recruited to supervise a group of campers on their field trip to the Empire State Building.
Nico. In charge of a bunch of children. On Olympus.
And perhaps the oddest part is that no one besides himself acts like this is strange, or questions it at all. Seriously.
Nico is assigned the care and well-being of a minibus full of hyperactive half-bloods, otherwise known as Group 3, (a total of 5 in all heading into the city, Hades help them all), so it was his job to make sure none of his 15 charges wandered off, lest any lightning bolts go missing.
“Right, listen up!” Nico has to raise his voice to be heard over the chatter of the group. “I don’t want anyone going Castellan, so we’re going to have some ground rules,” he begins, like the good and responsible head counselor that he’s supposed to be.
“Everyone must stay with the group, understand? For some of you this will be your first time on Mount Olympus, and that’s very exciting, but remember you’re all representing Camp Half-Blood up there. So, best behaviour from everyone. Jeremey, Harley, I’m looking at you guys.”
The two boys give him angelic smiles which quickly shift to demonic grins as soon as his back is turned. Nico can just tell. They’re plotting. He can feel it in his bones.
Argus has just driven their minibus off camp grounds when the first round of 1000 Bottles of Nectar on the Wall commences.
Just end him now. Please.
Nico will be the first to admit that he has never gotten the hype about New York City. It’s dirty and loud and crawling with monsters, (and no he doesn’t necessarily mean the mythological kind). Nevertheless, he just about weeps for joy at the first sight of Manhattan.
“Fun trip?” Will asks when they meet up outside the Empire State Building, the last few bars of the song still ringing in his ears.
“Jeremy seems to think that seatbelts are more of a friendly suggestion,” he replies. How a 9-year-old boy could even fit through the sunroof never mind get it open in the first place, Nico will never know.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you I missed you?” Will smiles, leaning down to within easy kissing range.
Nico looks at his boyfriend, his bright earnest smile, freckles paler now in the winter months, like a whisper beneath his skin, and golden hair peeking out of the edges of his red knit hat. Looking for all the world like sunshine incarnate.
“No,” Nico replies dryly and shoves past him to herd his 15 feral half-bloods inside.
Will’s bus has no one under the age of 14 on it. Smug jerk.
There is, of course, the usual song and dance with the guy at the front desk.
Chiron insisting on being let up to the 600th floor, the guy telling them there is no 600th floor, Chiron patiently explaining that yes there is, and so on and so forth until finally the man has had enough of teasing them and they are permitted to go up.
They split up into their separate groups for the tour which would finish in the throne room with a feast.
Once more Nico is left alone with Group 3 and he can’t help but feel that it’s pretty irresponsible to just let a bunch of kids wander around Mount Olympus unsupervised before remembering with a jolt of panic that he is supposed to be the one doing the supervising.
One of the nine muses, Clio, acts as their tour guide around the different gardens and shrines. Nico finds himself zoning out for most of it. While he wasn’t a regular visitor or anything and rarely bothered to sight-see, he had been to Olympus probably more than most demigods, usually to watch Percy yell at the gods about child support (always entertaining).
“The restoration of Mount Olympus was designed by daughter of Athena, Annabeth Chase, after the Titan War. You can see her statue in the Hall of Heroes along with the rest of the Seven,” Clio says with a tour guide’s vigour.
At least the kids were behaving themselves.
Nope. Spoke too soon.
“Jeremy, for the love of the gods, don’t you dare lick that!” Nico exclaims and Jeremy freezes.
“But Harley dared me!” he replies, face 2 inches from a bust of the old god, Pan.
“If Harley dared you to jump off a bridge, would – actually no. No, don’t answer that, of course you would.”
Nico does not have the mental fortitude for this nonsense.
Speaking of nonsense. Nico zones back in just in time to catch the end of Clio explaining the story of Medusa, gesturing animatedly to a vase for emphasis.
“Fun Fact! The demigod hero, Perseus Jackson, once sent the head of Medusa to Mount Olympus as a sacred offering to the gods. How lovely!”
'Sacred offering my ass.' he thought darkly.
Nico had heard that story from Grover who told him the exact intention behind that particular stunt. Trust the gods to turn a middle finger into a thumbs up.
This tour sucks.
And it’s just about to get worse.
“Now, if you’ll follow me, we will enter and explore the Hall of Heroes, a monument dedicated to demigods throughout the ages.”
Fuck.
Nico is not a fan of the Hall of Heroes.
Oh sure, it’s great in theory. A place for heroes to be honoured, their memory preserved, a reminder to all who entered it that demigods had shed blood, sweat and tears for the Olympians. And Annabeth had designed it so obviously it was stunning.
Nico’s own likeness is captured somewhere in here, among a collection featuring other demigods who fought in the recent wars. Really, it’s a painting of the Athena Parthenos, reigning stoically over Camp Half-Blood. But at the statue’s base, there he is, shrouded in shadow, with Reyna and Coach Hedge on either side. An unlikely trio, none of whom had the temperament to sit for an actual portrait.
Nico doesn’t think he could stand the embarrassment.
But there was another reason Nico didn’t enjoy this part of the tour.
The Seven all had statues.
And there for all to see, stands his dead best friend, life size and cast in white marble, regal and stately, golden spear raised in triumph. Jason Grace, Son of Jupiter, Child of Rome, Slayer of Krios, Praetor of the Twelfth Legion, Pontifex Maximus. Just as proud and heroic as he was in life.
But a statue can’t capture Jason’s laugh, the way he threw his head back like a child, the gleam of his electric eyes and the friendly timbre of his voice. A statue can’t convey his kindness, his determination, his secret love of comic books, the way he commanded the presence of every room or how he fought like a furious storm for what he believed in.
The plaque provides the date of his birth and death and a list of his various titles and accomplishments. 16 years’ worth of sacrifice condensed into a few short lines. Just the highlights. Funny how that happens.
Nico is just standing there, looking at the statue with an aching heart, when Adam bounces over, full of excitement as per usual.
“Isn’t this place the coolest, Nico? There’s so much stuff I didn’t know!”
“Yeah, its…very educational.” That’s about the best he can do right now.
“So, this is the Seven huh? They fought all those giants and the earth lady, right?”
When you put it like that it doesn’t sound like much but technically, he’s not wrong.
“Harley says that Leo Valdez is like, the most awesome inventor of all time and he can light himself on fire. And this one time everyone thought he was dead but then he came back to life. And he has a dragon. It that true?”
“Yep, that’s Leo.” Nico kindly leaves out the part about Leo being a colossal pain in the ass.
“Hey, who’s Jason Grace?” Adam asks, looking up at the statue which has been preoccupying Nico’s attention.
Who’s Jason Grace? Where to even begin answering a question like that? There were too many things to say, too many answers to give and Nico can feel a lump in this throat just thinking about it and gods he really doesn’t want to cry in front of all these kids.
“He was a hero,” Nico says simply. Because at the end of the day that was the only thing anyone would remember about Jason. And here is the proof.
This statue might embody his appearance; but it would never reveal the heart that lay within. Yet, here it would stand for centuries and one day there would be no one left alive who knew the boy encased in stone. He would be just another statue, just another story.
Thankfully, Clio interrupts before Adam can ask any more questions. “Okay everyone, if you’d like to follow me to the throne room, the feast will begin shortly.”
As always, the celebrations are extravagant and lengthy, a lot of ass-kissing and boring conversations that Nico is in no mood to participate in.
He is obligated to make polite small talk with his father which, although awkward, carries an undercurrent of exasperated affection.
With godly parents it’s about as much as you can hope for.
After the formalities have been dealt with, Nico makes a direct B-Line for Will, narrowly avoiding being swept into Demeter’s orbit who would undoubtedly berate him about his cereal consumption.
Will doesn’t even say anything, just takes his hand silently and continues a friendly conversation Hestia who smiles in that welcoming way of hers, a smile which feels like home. Will knows him well enough to tell when to he wants to talk and when to leave him with his thoughts and now is one of those times.
The blankly determined gaze of Jason’s statue haunts him.
The evening wears on and eventually the inhabitants of Camp Half-Blood take their leave, having gotten their crumb of attention for the year.
Nico makes it all the way to the sidewalk before realising he must now spend the journey back to camp with Group 3.
He lingers outside the Empire State Building, grumbling about the cold until Will takes off his scarf and loops it around his neck.
“I hope you realise you’re never getting this back, Sunshine.”
“It looks better on you anyway.”
Nico feels his cheeks go red but he’s too cold to care.
“Okay gang, everyone back on the bus!” Chiron calls when their buses pull up to the curb.
“Don’t leave me,” Nico whines, tugging on his boyfriend’s hand when Will starts to head for his own group.
The son of Apollo just rolls his eyes, more than familiar with this kind of melodrama after more than a year of dating. “You’ve survived worse.”
“I’m not above calling Jules-Albert to come get me.”
“Someone has to watch the kids,” Will reminds him.
“Fine,” Nico huffs.
“By the way, I saw Jeremy over by the chocolate fountain during the feast. He’ll probably be on a sugar high for the next few hours. Have fun with that, Angel,” and with that, Nico is left alone with Group 3 once again.
To his great dismay Jeremy is indeed practically vibrating with energy on the sidewalk. Nico closes his eyes and begins muttering in a mix of desperate Italian and Ancient Greek.
“Nico, what are you doing?” Jenna, a 12-year-old daughter of Iris, asks.
“Praying to Thanatos.”
“But, isn’t he the god of death?”
“Exactly.”
viii.
At the end of January Nico turns 16. Well, biologically. Technically he’s well over 80 but for the sake of his mental health that is not a fact he tends to dwell on. Still, he can’t help but think how young he still feels.
It makes him think of Percy.
When he was this age, the son of Poseidon had the weight of a prophecy on his shoulders, a deadly choice to make, the lives of all his friends in his hands. Nico is suddenly so thankful that it was never him in those shoes. He doesn’t think he could do it and he’s glad he’ll never have to find out.
At 12, a 16-year-old Percy had seemed so grown-up to him. Nico never had any second thoughts about following him blindly into a warzone. Percy always saved the day, that was just what he did, and a younger Nico di Angelo would’ve opened a vein if Percy had asked him to (granted, the giant, cringe-inducing crush Nico had on him might have been a contributing factor but the less said about that the better.)
It makes him think about the kind of head counsellor he wants to be, the kind of person he wants to be. He has spent some of the happiest days of his life here at Camp Half-Blood, a place he feels safe and wanted, a place he calls home.
He wants to do that for other people, other half-bloods.
Nico doesn’t consider himself much of a leader. He is no Percy Jackson, no Jason Grace, no matter what other people seem to think. But godsdamnit if he can’t be the best head counselor.
The orange shirts lay in his drawer, slightly wrinkled but otherwise as good as new. He had acquired a few over the years despite rarely, if ever, wearing them. Orange was not really his style, Nico tended to stick to plain old black or the hand-me-down band shirts Percy gave him. But there was something about wearing the camp shirt which made him feel more confident, stand straighter, walk with more purpose. He felt like this is what a good role-model should be.
It seems like a great idea until he leaves his cabin for breakfast.
“This is an interesting look,” Austen notes when Nico slides silently and self-consciously into his unofficial seat at Table 7.
“I thought I’d try to show more camp spirit,” he replies. Gods he sounds so stupid. This was so stupid.
“Well I think it suits you,” Kayla smiles, all supportive and kind. Bless her.
“I feel so…colourful. Like a traffic cone,” Nico mutters into his scrambled eggs.
“You make a very cute traffic cone,” Will says, sliding onto the bench next to him.
“Sap.”
“You’re blushing, Angel,” Will smiles smugly.
“Am not!” Nico snaps, even though he totally is because he can feel the heat in his cheeks and with his pale complexion it’s bound to be super noticeable. Damn him.
“Are so,” his boyfriend sing-songs teasingly. Gods, he has such a beautiful voice, even when he’s being a pain in the ass.
Nico manages a half-hearted ‘Go to hell, Solace,’ but they both know it means less than nothing. Will has the decency to move the topic along but absently Nico decides to invest in more camp shirts.
ix.
By March the weather has returned to a pleasant springtime warmth and Apollo was gracing them all with glorious sunshine. The residents of Camp Half-Blood are encouraged to spend more and more time outside and that is precisely how Nico finds himself supervising a group of the younger campers on a beautiful Tuesday morning.
However, it is not until he is trapped in a canoe in the middle of the lake with a boat full of kids that he realises he is supposed to be the one in charge of the situation.
He doesn’t know how they managed to lose all the paddles, but it probably has something to do with the feud he’s currently in with Lou Ellen after completely destroying Cabin 20 in Capture the Flag. Nico might have betrayed her in favour of an alliance with the Demeter kids. But in his defence, Miranda had offered to cover his stable duty for a month which was a seriously good deal even if it meant pissing off an entire cabin’s worth of witches.
Live and learn.
But that is not really a comfort to the little faces looking at him with big innocent eyes, silently waiting for him to somehow get them all back to shore. Nico will never get used to being an authority figure, no matter what Will said.
At least Jeremy is at arts and crafts this morning.
Head counselors, Nico has learned, get by on small mercies.
Later, when they have made it back to shore and he is walking back to his cabin, soaking wet and miserable, he catches sight of Lou Ellen smirking at him from across the green.
“Nice swim, di Angelo?” she calls.
That bitch.
“Be afraid, Blackstone! Be very afraid!”
Lou Ellen had gradually become one of his closest friends at camp, they shared the same dark sense of humour and had bonded over a mutual hatred of Ancient Greek Studies. But good friend or no, this means war.
Let’s see how smug she is when skeletons start scratching at her cabin door at night.
Too far? Nah.
x.
“And he keeps following me everywhere!” Nico continues, at some point during the conversation he had begun to pace around the room, arms waving animatedly as he vented his frustrations. It felt weird being in Cabin 3 without Percy being there, but his saltwater spring was the easiest way to create an Iris Message.
“Really?” Percy drawls sleepily from his dorm in New Rome, something about his response feels vaguely sarcastic but honestly Nico is far too worked up at this point to register it.
“Yeah and he’s always asking me questions,” Nico rambles on, “about the gods and my quests and my powers and stuff.”
“No. Who would do such a thing?” Percy asks and this time the mock drama comes through a little more.
“The other day he found me when Will and I were down by the lake to ask me if I knew how to embalm a body!” Nico exclaims, leftover irritation once again seizing him. The nerve of that kid. Adam, for whatever bizarre reason, had yet to cease his constant hovering and irritating inquiries. It was like having a shadow, and not the good kind.
“And what did you tell him?”
Now, if Nico didn’t know any better, he would think that Percy found his plight amusing.
“Like, can you believe that? I was on a date!”
“How awful for you,” Percy says sympathetically but Nico is getting the sneaking suspicion that his sympathy is not sincere. He stops his frustrated pacing and directs his attention to the IM.
Nico had seen Percy in varying states of well-being. He had seen him at his prime, in the midst of battle, he had seen him in the aftermath of a dip in the Styx, he had seen him bleeding and traumatised after climbing out of Tartarus, but somehow the son of Poseidon had never looked worse than at this very moment.
There are dark purple bags under his eyes and his hair, usually tussled in a charmingly windswept sort of way, is now greasy and downright unkempt. He’s got a pen stuck behind each ear and his dorm room looks like a small hurricane has blown through it, books stacked precariously on various surfaces and different coloured post-it notes stuck up all over the wall covered in Percy’s illegible scrawling handwriting.
There is nothing like finals season to bring the mighty low.
But despite his haggard appearance and evident stress, Percy has that unmistakable amused quirk to his lips. He was getting a kick out of this, that bastard.
“I’m serious Percy!” he snaps. “I don’t know what to do with this kid. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Can’t even imagine,” Percy replies, breaking out in a full-on hysterical grin.
Jerk.
xi.
Nico is halfway through the cabin inspections when something explodes.
Gods, he’s about to get a headache, he can just tell.
As a seasoned veteran of all kinds of mythological bullshit, Nico is fully prepared to find anything from a banished god to a vengeful monster to mechanical dragon causing a ruckus. What he finds instead is the smoking remains of the Camp Store and a lightly singed but otherwise in-tact Jeremy Lewandowski.
Because of fucking course.
Nico would like to state for the official record that the decimation of the Camp Store is absolutely not his fault. Under any circumstances. Jeremy was supposed to be restocking shelves as a punishment for…something. At this point Nico has lost track. But anyways, if it was anyone’s fault it was Chiron’s for leaving their biggest health and safety hazard under the not so watchful eyes of Julia Feingold and Alice Miyazawa.
Seriously, how was Nico supposed to know that the daughters of Hermes were running an illegal firework business out of the back room?
Jeremy had stumbled across this operation and well, let’s just say that reconstruction is due to finish by mid-June.
He can’t wait until Percy gets back so he can be the one to deal with this shit.
xii.
Nico had spent a long time thinking about how he’d approach this conversation. He didn’t want Percy to think he was trying to steal his title as Camp Half-Blood’s unofficial leader or anything, but he is in desperate need of advice and September would be here before they knew it. Then what would Nico do?
The pair are stuck in the Big House for the afternoon, reading a stack of boring reports for Chiron. Two of the most powerful half-bloods to ever live, reduced to desk duty. But it’s the first time Nico has managed to catch Percy alone since he got to camp a few weeks ago.
The son of Poseidon had arrived late, in typical Jackson fashion, driving up in his beat-up blue Prius with Annabeth sitting shotgun, the windows down and music blaring. Nico will never admit how relieved he was to see the older demigods.
But instead of naturally leading the conversation to the topic of camp-leadership like he had planned, Nico finds himself awkwardly blurting out, “How’d you do it?”
“Do what?” Percy asks distractedly, he’s still trying to decipher an order of strawberries for Camp Jupiter and the entire form is filled out in Latin. Typical Romans.
“Lead the camp?” Nico exclaims. “Become a good role model for reckless kids with no regard for their personal safety? Deal with a prophecy on top of everything else? How’d you stay so in-control? You’re always so confident, no-one ever second guesses you or – Are you laughing?”
Son of a bitch, he was trying to hide it, but Percy’s face was red from the effort, tears of mirth slowly welling in his eyes as he tried to stop himself from completely cracking up.
“I’m sorry,” Percy chokes, “do you – oh gods – do you really think I had any idea what I was doing? Ever?”
“Uh...yeah, of course.” This only prompts another loud squawk of laughter. “You’re Percy Jackson. You’re a hero,” Nico elaborates, because that’s the indisputable truth of the matter, Percy has a reputation which precedes him, everyone knows that.
But Percy looks at him like he’s just said something crazy, “You’re kidding me, right? Nico, I’ve been pretty much winging it ever since I got here!”
Now it’s Nico’s turn to laugh because Percy had to be messing with him. Right?
“No, that can’t be true. What about when we first met? Grover sent for the best heroes to come to Westover Hall and rescue Bianca and me.” Or at least that’s what Nico had thought for the last 5 years. As a kid it had seemed logical. At the time, it made sense.
“I hate to break it to you, but Grover sent out an emergency distress call and me, Annabeth and Thalia were the closest thing on short notice,” Percy tells him.
Oh. But surely that was just a fluke.
“Okay, what about the time you blew up Mount St. Helens to destroy Kronos’ forge?”
“Total accident,” Percy replies dismissively.
Oh.
“The time you bathed in the Styx?” Nico asks, growing more and more confused.
“That was your idea.”
Shit. That was Nico’s idea.
“When you saved the Ophiotaurus?”
“You mean Bessie? Oh, she just sort of kept following us.”
Oh.
“The quest to Alaska? You fought like an entire army of shades!”
“That was amnesia Percy.”
“Tartarus?” Nico tries.
Percy scowls. “Who the fuck would plan for that to happen?”
Son of a bitch.
“You’re telling me,” Nico begins slowly, his mind still trying to process the sudden revelation that perhaps his childhood hero was not quite as together as he previously thought, “you’ve never had a plan for dealing with – with anything?”
Percy just shrugs casually, like he hasn’t just obliterated Nico’s entire perception of him, “What can I say, I’m really good at improv.”
“We could’ve died…we could’ve died so many times,” Nico mutters to himself, head in hands. “How are you even alive?”
“You know, I ask myself that same question every single day,” Percy responds, cheerily tapping his pen against Chiron’s desk.
Nico sits there for a long moment, staring at his paperwork where words have suddenly lost all meaning. Abruptly, he gets up, tossing papers left and right, and marches out of the office, chores be damned.
“Where are you going? We have like 3 more folders to get through before dinner,” Percy calls to his retreating form.
“I NEED A NAP!” Nico yells from the front door, making sure to slam it on his way out.
With any luck he wouldn’t wake up until November.
xiii.
Nico is still pretty pissed with the son of Poseidon but that doesn’t stop him from joining his team for Capture the Flag. Tensions are running particularly high as the day wears on because it just so happens that the two halves of Camp Half Blood’s favourite power couple were each leading the opposing teams.
It’s sure to be a death match.
Percy and Annabeth, buzzing with bloodlust, openly taunt each other in the dining pavilion, as the rest of camp pointedly tries to ignore them.
“Really, Seaweed Brain, you should just give up now. Concede defeat before you embarrass yourself.”
“Fighting talk, Wise Girl. But I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“I know all your tricks, Jackson,” Annabeth snaps.
Percy smirks in response. “I seem to recall a few that you’re particularly fond of, Chase.”
Annabeth’s steely glare hardens but the intimidation is somewhat undercut by the sudden flaming redness of her blush.
“I’m going to kill you.”
“You can try.”
They are practically nose to nose, barely enough space to breathe between them. Percy’s eyes glitter dangerously and Annabeth’s hand hovers over the handle of her sword. They look like they’re about to either make out or kill each other. Possibly both.
Knowing them, probably both.
“Alrighty, that’s enough you two. Save something for the game, hmm?” Piper interjects, breaking the unbearably awkward silence which has fallen over the pavilion. Everybody loves a classic Chase-Jackson showdown. Nico could swear he saw one of the Aphrodite kids pull out popcorn.
Most likely Piper had layered a little charm speak into her words as they slowly move apart, but don’t stop glaring. The amused onlookers quickly jump back to their respective tasks, preparing for the game with renewed purpose now that Annabeth and Percy have been forcibly separated.
“Geez, they’re especially vicious tonight, aren’t they?” Will comments idly.
“Please,” Nico scoffs, “this is foreplay for them.”
“The disturbing thing is, you’re not wrong,” Will replies, pulling on his armour.
Even as Annabeth and Percy begin moving around the clusters of demigods, prepping weapons and checking on team strategies, their eyes continue to track each other. It’s downright animalistic.
“By the way,” Nico says casually as he tightens Will’s chest plate for him, “I just wanted to say sorry in advance.”
“What for?”
“For the outrageous beating we’re about to give you,” he replies.
Usually Nico didn’t like playing against his boyfriend, he found it was way more fun when they got to fight together. But, Will and his siblings had allied themselves with the enemy and now they would have to face the consequences of such a fatal error.
“Is that so, Angel?” Will grins brightly, poor, clueless nerd didn’t know what was coming for him.
“You’re going down, Sunshine,” Nico smiles back. Really, what’s even the point in having a boyfriend if you can’t mess with them just a little?
“I hope you’re still this confident when we inevitably put you back in my infirmary,” Will says lowly. He leans down to quickly peck Nico on the cheek, an oddly Judas-like gesture given the circumstances, then just heads off to join his team, quiver of arrows hanging loosely from his shoulder. He doesn’t so much as look back.
Forget playful teasing, Will Solace is a dead man.
xiv.
Nico knows their battle strategy back-to-front so when the conch horn signals the start of the game he knows exactly where he’s supposed to be. Unfortunately, that place is with Percy, who is taking this game a smidge too seriously.
“Look alive, di Angelo! Annabeth could be anywhere,” Percy says, eyes flicking around in a paranoid frenzy, swinging Riptide in a wide arc as though trying to hit an invisible target. “Damn Yankees cap,” he mutters. “Gets me every time. She could be here right now. Playing mind games with me. Just waiting to strike. Gods, I love her.”
Nico can only roll his eyes. “You’re a weird couple, you know that?”
Percy grins madly in response and heads into the thick of the trees with unbound confidence.
Nico can’t believe he’s stuck with this lunatic.
“Tell me again why we’re plunging head-first into the woods without waiting for our scouts?” Right now, the Nike kids were their last line of defence because according to Percy their insatiable desire to win at all costs would ensure they held the line while Percy and Nico went to retrieve Cabin 6’s flag.
“I told you their flag is hidden in the southern woods. I’m sure of it.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Because I know Annabeth and she knows me, which means the flag is as far away from the creek as possible,” Percy explains, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Luring you away from your source of power. Smart,” Nico concedes.
They approach from the east, staying as quiet as possible while the distant sound of clashing weapons reverberates through the trees. They are just about to cross the creek to enter the southern woods and Nico can’t help but think they’ve done a pretty good job of staying undetected, when out of the trees bursts a unit of campers, armed to the teeth and ready to put up a fight.
Nico hasn’t fought with Percy in a while, but his movements are familiar. They’ve done this before with greater opponents than a few 7th graders with spears. It’s actually kind of fun. Nico can hear Percy to his left, cheerily making conversation while effortlessly fending off 3 attackers.
‘Hey Chiara, nice form. You’ve improved a lot since last summer!’ ‘C’mon, Clovis, keep that guard up’ ‘Paolo, my man, what’s up?’
For a sword fight it’s actually pretty civil until blasts of Greek fire start raining from above.
Because, sure. Why not?
An unmistakeable maniacal laugh drifts from the shadows. Oh gods.
“Percy, you want to wrap this up?” Nico calls, dodging both celestial bronze and spurts of Greek fire.
“Fiiiiiiirrrreee!” Jeremey shrieks, dropping from the trees, wild grin, super-soaker strapped across his chest. No doubt one of Harley’s inventions.
Nico wishes he could be surprised.
Percy rolls under Clovis’ guard and splashes into the creek. As he kneels the water surges up, whipping out, knocking back their opponents. Jeremy, in an uncharacteristically wise move, scrambles back up a tree in retreat. Nico tears forward across the creek and into the southern woods, Percy on his heels.
They continue running until they’re sure they haven’t been followed.
“Did one of those kids have a super-soaker full of Greek fire?” Percy asks, breathing hard.
“That would be Jeremy,” Nico groans, leaning against a tree to catch his breath.
“He’s a weird little dude, isn’t he?”
“He hasn’t tried to lick you, has he?”
“Uh…no?”
“Good, because we talked about that and he knows it’s not appropriate,” that would be all Nico needed, Jeremy going and licking Percy fucking Jackson, the gods’ favoured hero, thereby proving Nico’s utter incompetence as a role-model.
“It’s a good thing he’s got you to keep him in line,” Percy says.
And then, without warning it’s all on top of him. Everything from the last 11 months, all the responsibility and the pressure. All the uncertainty Nico’s been feeling has decided that now is the perfect time to rear its head. Right in the middle of Capture the Flag.
It’s just too much.
“I can’t do this,” he gasps suddenly. He thinks of all the things he could do wrong, all the people he was sure to let down. It’s only a matter of time.
“What?” Percy asks distractedly, trying to orient their location. He ploughs ahead but stops when Nico fails to follow. “Uh, Nico, you okay?”
He can’t move, he can barely even think.
He just talks, words spilling out of him, fears upon fears, “It’s like as soon as you left everyone decided I was their new golden child. But that’s not who I am. I’m going to let everyone down. I can’t be who they all need me to be.”
And there it is. The woods are eerily silent in the next few moments and Nico waits for Percy to laugh at him or confirm his anxieties.
But he only sighs, tired, almost ancient. “You don’t have to be anyone other than yourself” he says. “The only reason I didn’t feel guilty about leaving New York was because I knew you’d be here. To take my place.”
Seriously? “You…you knew?”
“Yeah. Of course, they’d think of you as their leader, Nico. You’re a hero,” Percy says this like it’s obvious, like Nico should know this, like it’s a fact.
“But I – but you –,” he stammers. This whole time, Percy knew. “Why didn’t you warn me? Or, I don’t know, give me some advice maybe?”
Percy looks genuinely confused. “I did.”
The fuck?
“Uh, no you very much did not!”
“Yeah I did,” Percy says with all the petulance of a child. “Remember, I gave you that thing.”
Nico is momentarily baffled until a memory, now almost a year old, suddenly surfaces from the depths of his brain.
“You mean the cow horn?” he asks incredulously. There’s no way that’s what Percy’s talking about.
“The Minotaur horn, thank you very much,” Percy corrects him, not that it really matters what Percy calls it, since all it had done was sit on a shelf in Nico’s cabin for almost a year.
“And what about a stupid Minotaur horn says, ‘Heads up, you’re the leader of camp now’?”
“It was a symbolic gesture,” Percy explains. “You didn’t pick up on that?”
Unbelievable.
“Seriously?”
“Look,” Percy looks flustered now, as if he did not expect his perfect capture the flag strategy to be derailed by a big heart-to-heart about emotions with an anxiety-ridden son of Hades, “it was my first trophy, and by giving it to you I was, y’know, passing on the torch of leadership. Symbolically.”
“You’re a nightmare,” Nico deadpans. He cannot believe this.
Fucking Jackson.
“Yeah, now that I say it out loud, I can see where there might be some miscommunication.”
“You really think so?”
“Alright, you want actual advice?” Percy huffs. Nico thinks he must be gearing up for some big inspiration speech but all he says is, “Find an Annabeth.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep. Find your Annabeth. Never let them out of your fucking sight. The stupidest things I’ve ever done were because I wasn’t with her.”
“So what? You’re just useless without your girlfriend?”
“I wouldn’t say useless,” he protests, “but history would suggest fewer volcanoes erupt when we stay together.”
“I can’t believe this,” Nico grumbles, “I’ve been freaking out about this for months and your advice is, ask Will?”
“Is Will your Annabeth?” Percy asks plainly.
That was a surprisingly loaded question. Percy was essentially asking if Will was his soulmate. And even more surprisingly the answer comes to him easily.
“Yes.”
“Then yeah, ask Will for help,” he says, suddenly the most rational person in the world. “A good leader relies on others for support. How’s that for advice? Now are you still mad or do you want to go and capture a flag?
“I’m still mad,” Nico says, because there is no way Percy’s getting off the hook that easy, “but I guess we can do that too.”
Hopefully Percy can’t see him smiling.
“Good. Because there’s no way I’m losing to Annabeth,” he grins.
So that’s what they do.
When Percy’s crackpot plan falls exactly into place for possibly the first time in recorded history, Nico is left holding the flag aloft in victory, Athena’s banner transforming from grey to black. He catches sight of Will, emerging from the trees, quiver empty, but he even though his team just lost, he’s smiling. All the kids from Nico’s beginners’ sword class begin cheering and clapping, even those on the opposing team. He feels then that maybe he can do this after all.
Nico knows he doesn’t need an orange shirt or a cool sword to become a leader, because in the eyes of these kids, he already is one.
Percy trusts him to do the right thing, to take care of the camp and the half-bloods who come here looking for a home. Nico could be the leader Percy sees in him, the leader these kids needed him to be. He could be their hero.
And maybe soon he'd start to feel like one.