Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Will insisted on joining him at the Hades table for dinner.

Nico isn’t uncomfortable or bothered, per se, but he is a bit annoyed. Will had already been following him around all day (well, maybe Nico had been doing most of the following as Will’s busy schedule jumped from his infirmary shift to archery class to music practice and back again), and that was plenty of socialization for one day, thank you very much. Will should know by now that if he really wants to be on Nico’s good side, it would be best to interact with him in small doses.

“Are you going to eat that?”

Nico glances up to see Will pointing at his small pile of broccoli with his fork and shrugged. “Do you want it?”

His stare is as sharp as his utensils. “I want you to eat it. You need at least one serving of vegetables a day, Nico.”

And this is exactly why Nico wishes his doctor would have prescribed him only one daily serving of Will Solace.

“I’m not hungry,” he replies.

Will just raises an eyebrow. “And whose fault is it that you ate all of your fries first?”

Nico pushes his plate away and leans back in his seat. “Let’s stop talking about food."

Though he first mutters something under his breath about the importance of a balanced diet, Will then gives in and stands. “Want to head to the campfire?”

“To eat s’mores?” He laughs at the glare he receives in return. “Okay, okay, I’m done, I promise. No s’mores; I’m not even hungry.”

Will nods, still standing over him. “But you’ll come with me?”

Something odd lurches in his heart that he hastily ignores, but Nico manages to nod. He is about to get up when a hand is offered straight to his face.

“Good,” Will said. His voice is strangely quiet, though it sounds like he's still trying to give it its usual edge. “Let’s go, then.”

After staring at his hand for what is probably far longer than the acceptable length of time for hand-staring, Nico takes it briefly, standing and then dropping it like it’s poisonous. If Will is weirded out by any of his actions, he doesn’t show it. Still, Nico silently curses himself for being so painfully awkward.

The thing is, he’s still getting used to this whole regular, healthy socialization stuff. He has been to the campfire with Will probably a dozen times since the end of the war, so why is the back of his neck itching more than usual this time? Why does he smell something strange in the air, and why does it seem like each step he takes feels heavy? Why does everything seem to be coated in dread?

But maybe he’s just nervous because Will changed into a light blue button-up after his infirmary shift had ended and because he complimented Nico’s new haircut (courtesy of Piper) earlier. Maybe. As they walk, though, taking deep breaths and focusing on things other than the person next to him doesn’t shake the fear that has settled in his nerves.

Will must be able to sense it. “Are you alright?”

Nico just nods and hums quietly. Will looks like he wanted to prod him further, but the nearby shouting of Lou Ellen and Cecil seems to catch his attention. He waves to the two of them, who have already found seats close to the fire pit, and they motion to the empty space next to them.

Will turns to him and slows his pace. “You okay with sitting with Lou and Cecil?”

Nico shrugs. “Sure. They’re fine.”

Will smiles, knowing that fine is quite the complement coming from the son of Hades. He returns his gaze to the building crowd in front of them, but almost immediately, his grin falls away, ousted by a frown and a creased brow.

“What is it?” Nico asks, still observing Will’s expression.

He simply points, and Nico follows the line of his index finger.

A hush falls over the cacophonous chatter and laughter he usually despises, though the amphitheater isn’t completely silent—it becomes a bubbling pot of whispers, gasps, and stutters that is somehow even more irksome. It bothers him in a different sort of way, he supposes; it signals something much darker and scarier than camp gossip. He hears a girl’s shriek, and the volume of the voices spikes for a moment before falling again. The bodies in front of him are still blocking his view, however, and he can’t see the object of their fear.

He can’t until the crowd suddenly parted, that is, and he realizes that it is staring directly at him.

Rachel Dare is standing in the middle of the amphitheater, her eyes glowing sickly green, glowing mist entwining around her arms and legs like ethereal serpents. It isn’t until she opens her mouth, which is also flooded with green, that Nico realizes she isn’t actually looking at him, but rather the person standing at his left shoulder.

“Four half-bloods will travel south,” the voice of the oracle hisses.

Nico hears the faint whisper of a younger camper nearby. “What’s going on?”

“It’s a prophecy,” someone replies. “Listen.”

She continues, her eyes unmoving. “To rescue me from the serpent’s mouth.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath beside him, but he doesn’t dare turn around.

“Three brave souls, accompanied by death—”

No, Nico begs. No more of this. Stop.

“The son of Apollo draws his final breath.”

And with that, the whole amphitheater watches as all of the green mist is pulled out of Rachel as if it’s being vacuumed. It condenses into small orb above her head for a moment, then shoots up into the sky like a rocket.

“That—that doesn’t usually happen after prophecies,” someone says, and then Rachel collapses.

A few people rush forward to help her, and the rest of the crowd dissolves into chaos. Some people are speaking loudly, others are talking in hushed voices, but the message is all the same—this is a prophecy. For a quest. And…

Nico turns around, and sure enough, he’s still there, staring at the spot where Rachel stood and blinking like he was just blinded by a camera flash.

“Will?” Nico asks hesitantly.

He blinks again and shakes his head. “I…” For once, he seems to be at a loss for words.

Nico bites his lip. “Um. Do you want to go somewhere quieter? To think about it?”

Will nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” He then turns his gaze to Nico. “Come with me?” His voice is so raw, so small compared to the cacophony surrounding them, and it hits Nico in the chest like a spear.

“Of course.”

They turn away from the amphitheater and start walking, but almost immediately, they are ambushed by Lou Ellen and Cecil.

“Hey,” Lou sighs. “Will, I—I know you get to pick who goes with you, but we just want you to know that we—”

“I know,” he says. Then he beckons them to follow, and he continues walking.

Nico leads the four of them to the quietest place he can think of—cabin thirteen. He steps up on the porch, opens his front door, and holds it so they can all file inside.

He closes it behind him and turns to face the others. Will is already sitting on one of the beds, staring blankly at the wall, but Lou Ellen and Cecil are standing awkwardly in the center of the cabin, glancing around like they’re afraid to touch everything.

Cecil catches his eye and frowns. “I’ve, uh, never been in here before.”

Nico gestures to the other empty bed—the one Hazel uses when she visits. “Have a seat.”

The two of them sit down gingerly, and Nico joins Will on his own bed, leaving a respectable amount of distance between them. For a moment, they’re all silent. No one wants to be the first to speak. They’re all waiting for…

“So,” Will finally says. “I can’t say this is entirely unexpected.”

Cecil nods. “Yeah. Your father’s been M.I.A. for the whole summer. This must have something to do with that.”

“To rescue me from the serpent’s mouth,” Lou Ellen chimes in. “It must be the oracle itself speaking, right? And then the way it seemed to vanish at the end…it’s like it got captured.”

Nico nods. “It predicted its own kidnapping. And the serpent—Python, obviously. He was the one who originally guarded the Oracle of Delphi before Apollo killed him.”

Lou Ellen nods. “Exactly. So we—I mean, Will has to rescue the oracle from Python like his father did.”

At her obvious slip-up, everyone falls silent again. Nico glances at Will. He’s still staring at nothing, hunched forward and resting his forearms on his knees.

It’s Cecil who speaks up next. “It’s kinda weird that it says ‘four half-bloods’ at the beginning but then ‘three brave souls’ in the third line, huh?”

“Accompanied by death,” Lou Ellen repeats. Then her eyes widen. “Maybe…maybe one of the four gets…” She can’t finish her sentence, and Nico doesn’t blame her.

“I don’t like it either,” he admits. “But you have to remember that prophecies can always have double meanings.”

She nods, but Nico can tell she’s still uneasy.

“I think we should talk to Annabeth,” he says. “She knows a lot about mythology and could help us interpret this thing. Also, she’s been on a lot of quests.”

Suddenly, Will laughs. “You’re all ignoring it.”

All eyes turn to him.

“What?” Cecil asks.

“The last line,” Will says, grinning, but there’s no humor in his eyes. “The son of Apollo draws his final breath.”

No one responds.

Yeah. Of course, it would need to be brought up at some point, but Nico did not want to think about it. He didn’t even want to think about what thinking about it might do to him. He didn’t want to confront how exactly it made him feel.

“I know we have to think about double meanings,” Will continues, “but to be honest, I don’t see any other way you could interpret that.”

Cecil clears his throat after a moment. “Uh, Will? You don’t…have to do this. If you don’t want to. I mean, it says ‘the son of Apollo,’ right? That doesn’t have to be you.”

Will finally raises his head, and he glares across the room at him. “Then who the hell would it be, Cecil? Austin? One of the little kids? Fucking Lee or Michael?” At their names, his voice cracks. “You’re wrong. It has to be me.”

An intense feeling of deja vu washes over Nico. When has he felt this way before?

He pushes it aside and tentatively reaches out, almost laying a hand on Will’s shoulder before he stops and puts it back down. “Will…it’s up to you. You have to choose whether you want to do this or not. But just know…” He glances at Cecil and Lou Ellen. “We’re all here for you. We’re going to support you either way.” He swallows. “And whether you like it or not, I’m going with you.”

That gets Will to lift his head again, and when he looks at him, Nico notices the tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Nico, please. You’ve been through enough.”

He shakes his head. “No way. You’re the one who’s always telling me to open up and let myself be vulnerable with people. To take care of myself. There’s no way I’m letting you go out there and get yourself in trouble on your own.” He takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I’ve been through enough of this shit for a lifetime, but that just means that I can handle it. And no offense, but you’ve never done something like this before. So let me help you. Please.”

“I agree,” Lou Ellen says. “Will, you know Cecil and I aren’t staying behind, either. We couldn’t bear to. But neither of us have ever been on a quest before, either, so I think Nico’s right. We need him.”

Will blinks, and a tear rolls down his cheek. He lifts his hand and forcefully wipes it away. “I can’t…” He laughs softly. “I can’t believe you guys. You don’t trust me.”

Lou Ellen raises her eyebrows. “Do we really have any good reason to? I mean, you’ve risked your life on the battlefield and in the infirmary so many times, trying to save people. You’re always willing to let yourself die, and your friends have always had to stop you. Do you really think we trust you to go off on a quest without us and come back in one piece?”

Cecil nods. “Also, and no offense, man, but you suck at fighting. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. A monster lunges at you, and you’re gonna try to avoid killing it. You need someone with you—” He looks at Nico pointedly. “—who can do the killing for you.” He coughs. “Um, no offense to you, either, Nico.”

Just then, there’s a knock at the door. Nico jumps up from the bed and heads over to open it.

“Hey,” Annabeth greets. Her tone is light, but she’s twitchy with nerves. She drums her fingers against the notebook she’s holding. “Is Will in there? I just spoke with Chiron about everything. There are a few things I’m hoping I can pass on.”

“Yeah,” Nico replies. “Come on in.”

Annabeth follows him inside, and he opts to stand beside her instead of sitting back down next to Will.

“Hey, guys,” she greets. “I know you’re probably stressing over the prophecy.”

“That’s an understatement,” Cecil mutters.

She opens her notebook and folds the cover around to the back, holding it with one arm while she points to it with her index finger. “First things first. In Ancient Greece, Delphi was located at what was referred to as Axis Mundi—the center of the earth.”

“But isn’t that Latin?” Lou Ellen asks.

Annabeth nods. “You’re right. But Axis Mundi isn’t applicable just to the Romans; other cultures had their own versions of it as well. It’s just that the Latin name is most commonly used.” She moves her finger to the next line on the page. “The Greek version of Axis Mundi was believed to be in a city called Phocis. But, of course, Olympus used to be in Thessaly. And while the physical version still stands there…” She looks up from her notes. “The new home of the gods is the Empire State Building.”

Will stares at her. “So you’re saying this ‘center of the earth’ is also in a different place now?”

She nods again. “Precisely. Phocis was in the center of Greece, so it made sense at the time. But now that the gods reside in America, Axis Mundi is probably somewhere in this country, too.”

“Probably?” Cecil echoes.

Annabeth bites her lip. “Well, yeah. We don’t know for sure. We’ve never had any reason to look for it.” She then points to something else in her notes. “But the prophecy gives us a clue. Four half-bloods will travel south. So it’s likely somewhere south of here.”

“Great,” Cecil deadpans. “That really narrows it down.”

“So you think Python will be at this Axis Mundi place?” Will asks.

She nods. “I do.” Then she sighs. “Will, I feel really bad. I hate that you have to do this. I guess I thought…I was hoping that we’d be done with quests for a while.”

“We all were,” Will replies. “It’s unfair. But we just have to accept it.”

The way he says accept it fills Nico with dread. He doesn’t want to accept it. Not if it’s going to end in…

“Are you taking them with you?” Annabeth asks. She’s glancing around the room, but her eyes land back on Will. “Lou Ellen, Cecil, and Nico?”

Will hesitates for a second, but then he nods. “Yeah. If I say no, they’re just going to come chasing after me, anyway. So I might as well make it official.”

“Yes!” Cecil cheers, pumping his fist. “There you go, man.”

Lou Ellen just smiles, and Nico locks eyes with Will for a moment.

He can tell that he’s trying to hide it, but there’s no concealing the fear Nico sees. He’s scared, and rightfully so. He shouldn’t have to do this. Like he said, it’s unfair.

But unlike him, Nico isn’t going to just accept it. He’s going to fight it. He’s going to fight to make sure Will doesn’t have to. It scares him, how much he knows he’s willing to do to protect him. He doesn’t really want to think about why. But he knows that he will.

“Well,” Annabeth says, and they both look back to her. “I wish you all the best of luck. I’ll try to help from here as much as I can. I’m going to keep researching. If I find anything else, I’ll shoot you an Iris Message.” She then turns to leave but glances over her shoulder one last time before she opens the door. “Go easy on the shadow travel, Nico. I’m sure Will is going to tell you the same thing if he hasn’t already, but we don’t want a repeat of the Athena Parthenos.” Then, with one last grim smile, she’s gone.

Nico faces Will again, and he’s already nodding. “She’s right. If you think you’re going to be shadow traveling us all over the place until we find this Axis Mundi, you’re wrong.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Wasn’t planning on it. But I can still cover transportation.”

Will raises his eyebrows. “How?”

“I’ve got this zombie chauffeur,” Nico explains.

“A what?”

Nico glares at Cecil. “It’s a gift from my dad. He can drive for as long as you want, since he’s dead and doesn’t get tired. It’ll obviously take longer than shadow travel, but…”

“It won’t kill you?” Will asks.

Nico resists rolling his eyes. “Yeah.”

Cecil leans back on his hands. “So, when do we leave?”

“How does tomorrow morning sound?” Will asks. “We’ll leave bright and early so we have plenty of daylight.”

“Works for me,” Lou Ellen says. Nico and Cecil nod in agreement. Then she glances out the window. “It’s pretty late. We should head back to our cabins.”

Will freezes for a moment, but then he stands. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” He looks at each of them. “See you guys tomorrow.”

Nico nods. “See you tomorrow.”

He opens the door for them, and all three file out. Once they’re gone, he heads over to his bed and flops down on his back. It’s still warm from Will sitting there.

He wonders briefly what’s going on outside—if they ever got to have their campfire, or if everyone was too panicked. If any of Will’s other friends are looking for him. Or—oh, gods, his siblings.

Nico was fairly well acquainted with the Apollo cabin, as he spent most of his free time either helping out in the infirmary or being forced to catch up on the decades of music he missed while Austin and a few others explained to him the importance of each individual band and artist. He begged Will to get them to stop, but Will just laughed, because he knew that he actually enjoyed it. He had even taken a liking to a few of the bands Austin raved about and had started listening to more of their music in his own time while cleaning up his cabin or training in the arena. Once, Austin caught him humming to himself in the infirmary and almost had a heart attack.

If there’s one word to describe the Apollo kids, it’s passionate.

They’re passionate about music, sure, and Kayla about archery, and Will about medicine and surgery and some other weird things that Nico did not need to hear about during breakfast, thank you very much, but most of all, they’re passionate about each other. The bond between them is insanely strong, more so, Nico thinks, than that of any other cabin. He knows that Will would risk his life for any of them, and they would risk their lives for him.

So he can only imagine how terrified they must be.

Only a few seconds after he’s lied down, his thoughts are interrupted by another knock on his door.

He doesn’t want to answer it, but he has no idea who it would possibly be, so he gets up out of curiosity. When he opens it, he just stands there, at a loss for words.

“Hey,” Will says softly, his voice a stark contrast to how it sounded when he was upset with his friends just a few minutes prior. “I…do you mind if I spend the night here? I can’t go back to my cabin. I…don’t want to see them just yet.”

Nico blinks, and then he steps aside, leaving an opening in the doorway. “Yeah. I mean, that’s fine. I don’t mind.”

He smiles, and it’s small, but it’s still there. “Thank you, Nico.”

After he comes in, Nico shuts the door behind them. He heads back to his bed while Will goes to Hazel’s, but then he thinks better of it and opens his dresser instead. He picks through his clothes and finds two pairs of pajama pants, keeping one for himself and holding one out to Will.

“Here. I’ll get changed in the bathroom, you can stay in here.”

Will stares at them for a moment but then takes them. “Thanks.”

After Nico quickly changes in the bathroom, he comes back out and heads straight for his bed. It’s been an exhausting day, and he absolutely does not want to think about anything to do with the quest or the prophecy anymore. Will is already lying down, too, on top of the covers and staring at the ceiling. Nico sort of feels bad, wondering if he should talk to him, but he has no idea what to say. He’s terrible at comforting people.

Fortunately, Will speaks first. “Thank you.”

Nico turns his head to the side on his pillow to look at him. “It’s no problem.”

“No,” Will says. “Not just for letting me stay here. Or for the pajamas. For everything, Nico.”

Nico blinks. “What?”

Will rolls onto his side to face him from across the room. “You didn’t have to help out in the infirmary for the past two months. You didn’t have to pull me away from that crowd earlier. You didn’t have to volunteer to go on the quest with me.” He smiles. “But you did. So thanks.”

“Oh,” is all Nico can say. He pauses for a moment. “Um. You’re welcome?”

Will laughs a little and shifts onto his back again. “Good night.”

Nico decides to turn away, too. “Good night,” he echoes.

“See you in the morning.”

Chapter Text

When Nico wakes up, he feels at peace for about half a second, and then the events of the previous night kick in.

Groaning miserably, he rolls over to face Hazel’s bed, but it’s empty (and perfectly made, which it wasn’t before). For a second, he panics, wondering if Will has taken off without him, but then he realizes that he is probably just gathering his things from his own cabin and talking to his siblings.

He normally wouldn’t get out of bed at this hour, but he knows Will is serious about leaving early. He forces himself to sit up, stretch, and get dressed. He then finds an old orange backpack he was given when he first arrived at camp, blows off the layer of dust it has collected while sitting underneath his bed, and stuffs it with a toothbrush, deodorant, a reusable water bottle, and two changes of clothes. On his way out the door, he grabs his sword, takes one look back into his cabin, and then shuts it behind him.

It’s early enough that there aren’t many campers milling about, but of course he has to run into Jason, who looks like he was on his way to cabin thirteen anyway.

“What do you want?” he asks.

Jason raises his eyebrows as he jogs up to him. “I want you to be safe and take it easy.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” Nico replies. “And how do you know I’m going?”

“Intuition,” Jason says. “And I know it’s not. But don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

“Like Will would let me.”

That gets him to smile a bit. “You’re right. But still.” He spreads his arms. “A hug before you leave?”

Nico rolls his eyes, but he gives in.

He would rather die than admit it, but he secretly loves Jason’s hugs. He has strong arms, okay?

“Stay safe,” Jason says again once he pulls away. “I want you back here in one piece and not translucent, alright?

“I can manage that.”

He smiles. “Bye, Nico. Good luck.”

And with that, he jogs back off to his own cabin.

Nico continues his walk to the Big House, where he figures Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil will meet him. When he gets closer, he sees one figure standing on the front porch, leaning against the rail.

Though his mind immediately jumps to Will, it’s Lou Ellen.

“Hey,” she greets. She’s smiling, but she looks more tired than anything.

“You’re up early,” Nico says. He sits down on the steps and sets his backpack down beside him.

She shrugs. “So are you. By your standards, anyway. You’re always sleeping in ’til noon.” She then moves to the steps and settles down on the one above him. “You ready for this?”

He shakes his head. “You can never be ready for quests. No matter how much you think you are.”

She huffs. “Great pep talk, di Angelo.”

“It’s five in the morning,” he replies. “What do you expect?”

She hums in acceptance and goes quiet for a moment before speaking again. “I hope you’re not offended by what Will said to you yesterday. That stuff about not wanting you to go with him.”

“I’m not.”

“He only said it ‘cause he really cares about you, you know.”

Nico doesn’t respond to that, simply because he doesn’t know how. If it’s true, he wouldn’t know what to do. If it wasn’t true, he wouldn’t know what to do either. And at five in the morning, he’s not in any sort of mood to explore his feelings.

Fortunately, Lou Ellen remains silent for the remainder of their time alone together, until Cecil shows up a few minutes later.

“Hey, Lou. Hi, Nico.” He slings his backpack off of his shoulder and lets it fall to the ground before leaning against the side of the building near the door to the infirmary. “Nico, how does that whole zombie chauffeur thing work? Like, do you just have to summon him, and he appears with a car and everything, or do you need to find a car first?”

“He has his own car,” Nico replies. “Well…it’s not exactly a car. It can be a car if you want it to be. Or it can be a limo, or a truck, or pretty much anything else.”

“How about a tank?”

“Probably not.”

“Damn. That’s still so cool, though.”

“Yeah, it’s alright.” Nico avoids looking at him. He’s not really in the mood for casual conversation. He’d rather get going so they can get this over with as quickly as possible.

“I wonder where Will is,” Lou Ellen says.

“I checked with his siblings,” Cecil replies. “He had already left his cabin. They assumed he was up here already, but he’s probably at the showers or something. Or maybe grabbing some food from the dining hall.”

He’s wrong, Nico realizes. He stands up, shaking his head. “One second, guys. I’ll be right back.”

He walks past Cecil, opens the infirmary door, and steps inside.

The usual bright white lights aren’t turned on yet, but there’s enough natural light filtering in through the windows that they aren’t needed. There are only a couple of patients sleeping, each with just a broken limb or two that need some time to rest away from the danger of camp activities. Will’s sister Kayla is standing over one of them, facing away from him, but she turns when the door creaks open.

“Oh. Nico,” she says. “Are you—”

“Looking for Will,” he says. “Yeah.”

“He just came in, about ten minutes ago,” she says. Then she points past her, toward the supply closet. “He’s in there.”

Nico nods and begins to walk past her, but she grabs his arm, stopping him. 

“Please…keep him safe,” she whispers.

He turns to look her in the eye. She sounds like she’s about to cry, but she holds his gaze without wavering.

“I will,” he says.

She smiles. “Thank you. And good luck.”

“Thanks,” he says. Then, once she’s dropped his arm again, he makes his way to the back of the infirmary, grabs the handle of the door to the closet, and pulls it open.

“Will, what are you doing?”

He almost drops the bottle of pills he’s holding. “Jeez, Nico. You scared me.”

Nico leans against the doorframe. “And you’re scaring me. We’re all ready to leave, and you’re in here organizing the fucking supply closet.”

Will sets the bottle down on a shelf, takes a deep breath, and then turns to face him. “I’m sorry. I’m ready to go, too. I just needed to…I don’t know.”

Suddenly, he realizes what’s up.

“Will. The infirmary is going to be fine.”

Will bites his lip. “But—”

“You need to trust Kayla and Austin. They take care of it all the time when you’re busy with other things.”

He sighs. “But that’s different. I’m still here. At camp. And they’ve never taken care of it by themselves for more than a few hours before.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Nico repeats. “There are others here, too, remember. Piper’s been helping out a lot recently, and she’s not going anywhere. Neither is Annabeth, and she’s smart enough to take over if they need someone.”

Will just stares at him—or past his head; Nico can’t really tell. It’s fine for a few seconds, but then Nico starts to shift uncomfortably. “What is it?”

Will then breaks his gaze, shaking his head. “Nothing. I’m still not used to your new haircut.”

Nico feels his face heat up. “What? What does that have to do with—”

Will smiles slightly. “Never mind. Let’s get going.” He reaches down and grabs a backpack that’s under the bottom shelf.

When they step back out of the closet, they can hear Kayla washing her hands from the bathroom.

“I’ve already said goodbye to her,” Will says. “I don’t want to have to do it again. Let’s go.”

They emerge from the infirmary, and Cecil’s eyes go wide when he sees them.

“Dude, you were in there the whole time? What were you doing?”

“Just grabbing some extra supplies,” Will says, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. “You’re all ready to go?”

“Not according to Nico,” Lou Ellen mumbles, but luckily, no one else seems to hear it. They all head to the top of Half-Blood Hill, and Nico closes his eyes, calling upon Jules-Albert.

“He’ll be here in a second,” he says, opening them again. The four of them wait in silence for a few moments, and sure enough, a black, eight-seater Lincoln SUV pulls up from around the corner and stops on the side of the road.

Cecil whistles. “Nice car.”

“God of wealth,” Nico responds.

They make their way down the hill and load their bags into the trunk. Lou Ellen calls shotgun and races to grab the front seat. Nico watches in the mirror as she attempts to introduce herself to Jules-Albert, who completely ignores her and keeps his eyes on the road. She then crosses her arms and turns away.

Cecil climbs over the middle seats and into the third row, announcing that he’s going to use it to take a nap, leaving Nico to sit behind Jules-Albert and Will behind Lou Ellen.

Once they’re all seated, Jules-Albert looks over his shoulder at Nico expectantly. Will and Lou Ellen jump a little, and Nico doesn’t blame them. His half-rotted face is a bit hard to get used to.

“He needs directions,” Nico explains. He turns to Will. “Where to?”

Will nods slowly. “I’ve been giving it some thought. I think we should head southwest—like, towards the middle of the country. If Axis Mundi is supposed to be at the center of the country, I think starting in the midwest would be our best bet.”

“Oh!” Cecil exclaims from the backseat. “Kansas, right? That’s considered to be the centermost state of the continental U.S. Or South Dakota, if you factor in Alaska and Hawaii.”

From the front seat, Lou Ellen stares at him with narrowed eyes. “How do you know all that?”

Cecil smirks. “Hermes is the god of travel. I’ve got a good sense for that kind of stuff.”

“Maybe you should be the one in the front seat,” Nico mutters.

“Nope,” he replies cheerfully. “I already called the back row. But I can help with directions once we get closer. I might be able to pinpoint an exact area, if dead center of the country is what we’re aiming for.”

Will blinks. “That…would be super helpful. Um. Thanks, Cecil.”

“So we’ll aim southwest,” Nico says to Jules-Albert, who nods. He then starts the engine, bangs a hard U-turn, and begins to drive.

After a minute, Will glances over the seat at Cecil. “I didn’t know he could do that,” he whispers to Nico.

Nico nods. “Would’ve been great to know earlier.”

Will smiles. “He can be a bit oblivious sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Lou Ellen chimes in, overhearing their conversation. “Sometimes.” She then holds up a book that she brought with her into the front seat. With yellow pages and a plain, dark blue, leather-bound cover, it looks like something out of the nineteenth century.

“I’m going to read up on some magic stuff,” she says. “The Athena cabin had this book that they said was given to them decades ago by a child of Hecate. It might have some relevancy.” She then brings it back to her lap and opens it, and the car falls into silence.

Nico glances at Will, who is already looking at him, but turns his head toward the window.

“Nice day,” he remarks.

Internally, Nico groans. It’s going to be a long drive.

***

About two hours later, after passing rather uneventfully through New York City and New Jersey, Lou Ellen points out and reads a “Welcome to Pennsylvania” sign a bit too loudly, and Cecil wakes up.

He yawns and leans against the middle seat, resting his chin on the top. “Where the hell are we?”

“Pennsylvania,” Will replies, taking out his earbuds. He’s been listening to some audiobook or something for the past hour and a half or so, ever since he got bored of staring out the window and making comments about how “nice” things looked.

“I’m hungry,” Cecil says, yawning again. “What time is it?”

Nico checks the dashboard. “Eight.”

Will frowns. “Did you not eat breakfast?”

“It was too early. I wasn’t hungry. I have to pee, too.”

Lou Ellen glares at him over her shoulder. “Well, that’s too bad. We can’t stop after just two hours. That’s pathetic.”

“If Will would let me shadow travel, I could save us twenty-two more hours of this,” Nico offers.

That earns him a glare of his own. “Nico, no. If it was only you, maybe. But it’s four people. That’s too many.”

“I brought Reyna, Hedge, myself, and a giant statue across the Atlantic Ocean.”

“And look how well that turned out.”

“Let’s stop fighting,” Lou Ellen said. “We’ll stop when we get to Maryland.”

***

That was probably a bad idea, because it took almost three hours, and they all needed to use the restroom and eat well before then, but aside from Cecil, they were too prideful to admit it. So they stuck it out until Lou pointed out the “Maryland Welcomes You” sign, listening to Cecil’s complaining all the way.

Nico directed Jules-Albert to pull off of the highway as soon as they could, and he let them out at the curb as soon as they saw a 7-Eleven. All four of them ran inside, ignored the greeting of the young cashier, and rushed to the restrooms.

They were single-stall, so Lou Ellen used the ladies’ room and Nico and Will conceded to Cecil. As they waited, Will leaned up against the wall across from him.

“Doing alright so far?”

Nico shrugged. “I’ve dealt with worse than long car rides.”

Will’s cheeks turn pink, and he avoids Nico’s eyes. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”

Shit. He didn’t mean to make him feel awkward.

“Don’t apologize,” he blurts. “I mean, it’s not your fault. Forget I said anything.”

Will looks back up at him with wide eyes. “Okay.”

Nico clears his throat. “So, um, how about you? How are you doing?”

He sees a hint of a smile. “Could be better. But we haven’t run into any monsters so far, so…” The door clicks, and Cecil emerges. “Guess I can’t complain.” He gestures to the now open door. “Go ahead.”

Nico doesn’t turn down the offer. 

Before he leaves the bathroom, he spares himself a quick glance in the mirror and almost shocks himself for what’s probably the tenth time by now with his new haircut. It’s not drastically different, but it’s much shorter, closer to what he had when he was younger. He can see his ears now, and he doesn’t have to deal with strands falling in his face all the time anymore. It’s nice.

When he steps back out, he passes the door off to Will. Lou Ellen and Cecil are both nearby, checking out different options in the snack aisle. They turn to him when they hear him come out.

“Want anything, Nico?” Lou Ellen asks, holding a bag of pretzels. “I’ve got money.”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll grab these for Will; he loves Lays,” Cecil says, his arms already full of a variety of chips.

“You sure?” she asks Nico, raising an eyebrow. “It’s gonna be a while before we stop again, probably.”

“I’ll be fine,” he replies. “You guys go on ahead and pay for that stuff. I’ll wait for Will.”

She shrugs and turns away. “If you say so. Alright, Cecil, that’s enough.”

They bring their food up to the register, and Nico watches as they pay. The cashier is a blonde girl who’s probably sixteen or seventeen, and she smiles at them cheerfully as she hands them their change. They then head outside, Cecil announcing that he needs to soak up all of the fresh air he possibly can before they get back in that stuffy car again, and the bell on the glass door rings as it closes behind them.

Nico hears the faucet turn on inside the mens’ room. He hopes Will doesn’t make him buy something to eat. He’s seriously not hungry—it’s still so early in the morning. He can wait until their next stop. Chances are they’ll want real food for lunch instead of 7-Eleven snacks, so it’ll be worth it, anyway.

He’s staring at the floor when suddenly he catches a whiff of something that reminds him of how the Aphrodite cabin smelled when he was getting his hair cut. He lifts his head—

—and finds himself face-to-face with the cashier girl.

“Um. Excuse me?” he asks.

“No loitering,” she says.

Is it just him, or are her eyes strangely red? “I’m just waiting for someone. He’ll be right out.”

“No loitering,” she repeats, this time with a snarl. An actual snarl.

Yeah, her eyes are definitely glowing. And her teeth shift a bit in her mouth as she opens it, growing longer and pointier.

Nico’s hand immediately reaches for his sword, when he realizes it’s not there. Shit. All of their weapons are in the trunk of the car. He curses himself for being so stupid, and then glances around for a Plan B.

The exit isn’t far away, but she’s blocking his path. He could try shouting for Lou Ellen and Cecil, but they definitely wouldn’t hear him. If only he was near the shelves, he could grab something, anything, to use as a weapon…

“Will,” he calls, “are you almost—mmphg!”

His words are cut short as the girl places one hand over his mouth and the other on his neck, pinning him against the wall. Her manicured nails morph into sharp black claws that poke into his skin.

Nico tries for a kick to her leg, but it clangs like a cymbal, and pain shoots through his foot.

So, she’s an Empousa. At least he knows the charmspeaking isn’t going to work on him, but if Will comes back out—

The bathroom door is thrown open, and the monster’s head turns. Nico takes advantage of her temporary distraction to shove her body off of his with sheer force. She falls against the opposite wall with another metallic clang.

“Nico?”

He whirls around, and Will’s just standing there, staring at the scene in front of him.

“Sorry about this,” he says. Then he grabs Will’s arm, ducks into the bathroom, flicks the light switch, and lets the shadows consume them.

Chapter Text

They emerge in the parking lot, right next to Cecil and Lou Ellen, who are sitting on the curb with their bag of snacks.

“Get to the car!” Nico shouts at them. 

They just stare at him, unmoving.

“RUN!” he adds. This time, they listen.

He’s still holding onto Will, who stumbles as soon as they materialize and almost knocks them both over. He’s supporting him with both arms now.

“Why am I so dizzy?” Will murmurs, leaning against him, forehead on his shoulder. “What just happened? Where am I?”

Nico glances behind them at the glass storefront. The Empousa’s face emerges from behind a shelf, and when she locks eyes with him, she starts heading straight for the door.

“We need to run,” Nico says. “Now.”

“Okay,” Will says, but he doesn’t move.

Shit. “Sorry,” Nico says. Luckily, the sun is rising behind the building, so they’re in the perfect shadow.

He manages to land them in the car, though not perfectly in their seats. Nico’s lying on the floor, squished in between the front and middle row, and Will is…squishing him.

“Will, get the fuck off of me,” he manages to croak.

Just then, the door behind his head is yanked open. “Nico! Will! Are you guys alright?”

Nico turns his head just enough to see Cecil standing there, staring down at them with wide eyes. “Yeah. Just need to get him off of me. Is Lou here?”

He gets his answer in the form of the passenger side door opening. Lou Ellen immediately jumps into the front seat, looking around frantically until her eyes land on them.

“Oh, thank gods you guys are alright. I thought we’d lost you.”

“Guys,” Cecil says. He points to something in the direction from which they came. “We need to go. Like, right now.”

He jumps into the car, and he and Lou Ellen both slam their doors shut. Nico manages to shimmy into a half-sitting position, still on the floor with his legs pinned down. “Jules-Albert! Get us back on the highway, and pin it!”

Without even a nod, the zombie lurches the car to the left and slams the accelerator. A car horn honks loudly at them as they go by, but they don’t stop.

“Jeez,” Cecil says, sitting above him. “That was a close one. What was she, anyway?”

“An Empousa,” Nico says. “Now, a little help here?”

“Oh, right.” Cecil scoots to the other side of the car and, with Nico’s assistance, hoists Will up into the middle seat. “He’s unconscious. Why’s he unconscious?”

“Shadow travel.” Nico squeezes himself into the seat on Will’s other side. “Usually it wouldn’t knock someone out like that, even on their first time, especially traveling such a short distance. But maybe it’s because we did it twice in succession.”

“Or maybe because he’s a son of Apollo,” Lou Ellen suggests, facing them and watching Will with narrowed eyes. “Maybe because Apollo’s the sun god, Will can’t handle darkness like that.”

She obviously doesn’t mean them to, but her words stings a little. Will can’t handle darkness like that. Maybe he isn’t meant to be around Nico so much.

He shoves that aside for now, though, focused on bringing him back to reality. “So what do we do?”

Cecil holds his wrist, checking for a pulse. “He’s fine, I think.” He shakes his slumped shoulders. “Will, wake up!”

“Cecil, that’s not going to work,” Lou Ellen says, reaching for something under her seat. “I’ve got some ambrosia. Try this.” She rummages around for a few more seconds, then finds a small plastic bag of the stuff and hands it to Nico.

He takes out a square and breaks off a piece, but then he just stares. “Um, Cecil, could you, like, hold open his mouth for me?”

Cecil—Nico is going to fucking kill him—has the audacity to smirk. “Probably not how you imagined this, eh?”

Luckily for him, Lou Ellen says something before Nico can raise his eyes to glare. “Cecil, shut up and just do what he says.”

Losing the grin, he nods and obliges, opening Will’s mouth up just wide enough for Nico to stick the piece in.

“Hopefully he doesn’t choke,” Lou Ellen mutters, right as he starts choking.

Fortunately, his eyes snap open, too, and after having a coughing fit, getting hit on the back like a burping baby (thanks, Cecil), and downing half a bottle of water (thank you for real, Lou Ellen), he groans and rests his head on the center console.

“Ugh,” he says, his voice a bit hoarse. “What the hell just happened?”

Cecil chuckles. “Ask Nico.”

Instead of talking, Will just turns his head, letting the right side stay on the console so he can look at Nico with raised eyebrows.

“There was an Empousa,” Nico says, leaning against the door. “It attacked me while you were in the bathroom. These two were already outside. I shadow-travelled us out, and then shadow-travelled us again to the car because you couldn’t walk after the first time.”

Will lifts his head and sits up straight. “You shadow-travelled? Twice?”

Nico shrugs. “I could’ve left you there to die instead, if you wanted.”

Will reaches out and punches his shoulder gently. “Of course not, you doofus. I appreciate it, seriously.” He smiles a little. “Just don’t do it again, alright?”

“No promises. But next time we get out of the car, we’re bringing our swords, got it?”

Will nods. “Probably a good idea.” Lou Ellen and Cecil hum in agreement. Then he holds out his hand. “Let me check your vitals.”

“Seriously?”

“Uh, yeah. You just shadow-travelled.”

“Fuck this,” Cecil groans. “This is why I sat in the back.” He gets up and climbs over the seat, but Will doesn’t move back to his old side and instead stays in the middle, still holding out his hand.

“Come on, Nico,” he pleads. “It’ll just be a second. I need to make sure you aren’t carrying any residual darkness. It’s been a while since you’ve shadow-travelled.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Nico grumbles, placing his own hand into Will’s. Will smiles, then closes his eyes, squeezes tightly for a few moments, and then looks at Nico again.

“All clear,” he pronounces. “But let’s still try to avoid Underworld-y stuff for now, alright?”

“Alright,” Nico agrees, taking his hand back.

Will gives him one last smile, and then he moves back to his original seat.

They drive in silence for another hour—well, silence save for Cecil and Lou Ellen munching on all of the chips, crackers, and pretzels they didn’t manage to leave behind while running from the Empousa—until they pass into West Virginia. Will doesn’t eat the ones they offer him. Nico doesn’t blame him—he’s probably still nauseous from the shadow travel.

“Ooh!” Lou Ellen suddenly exclaims. “This book mentions Python!”

Will perks up and takes out his earbuds. “Really? What does it say?”

Lou Ellen traces a finger along the lines of text as she reads. “It’s in a chapter talking about magic that mortals are capable of—you know, really small, rare, things. This section is about the mother’s blessing.”

“Like the thing Percy got?” Will asks. He turns to Nico. “You helped him with that, didn’t you? He needed his mother’s blessing to protect him before getting the curse of Achilles.”

“Yeah,” Nico replies. He’d rather not think about that time of his life. Especially not the parts with Percy.

“Anyway,” Lou Ellen continues, “it says here that a son of Apollo was tasked with slaying Python back in the old days—well, sometime around when this book was written—and he had to get his mother’s blessing first, because it was so dangerous.”

Beside him, Will visibly winces. “Dangerous,” he echoes. “Great. So…are you saying I need my mother’s blessing, too?”

Lou Ellen nods, still scanning the page. “I think so. I mean, it’s better to be safe than sorry, right?”
“So we have to go to Texas?” Cecil asks.

“Yeah,” she replies.

“Yee-fricking-haw,” he mutters.

“You’re from Texas?” Nico asks.

Will turns to him. “Yeah. I didn’t tell you that already?”

“I don’t think so.” He pauses. “Why don’t you have an accent?”

“He totally does,” Lou Ellen says. “It comes out when he’s tired, or when he’s really excited about something.”

Will’s face flushes. “I do not.”

Cecil snorts from the backseat. “Yeah. And Nico doesn’t sound Italian when he’s angry.”

“I don’t—wait, what?!”

Lou Ellen and Cecil dissolve into a fit of laughter, but Will just rolls his eyes. “Ignore them.”

“Do I really have an accent?” he asks.

Will smiles a bit. “Kinda. Only sometimes. But it’s cute. Don’t worry.”

Cute?

Fortunately, Will turns back to his iPod and puts in his earbuds right after he says that, because Nico’s certain his face is beet red. He leans back against the door and looks out the window.

“Texas, here we come,” Cecil says in a horrible imitation of a southern drawl. “Yeehaw.”

***

“Country roads,” Cecil sings. “Take me home…”

“Cecil, I swear to Zeus,” Lou Ellen says without lifting her head.

“To the place…I belong…”

“My gods, Cecil, could you please shut up?” Will groans, covering his ears with his palms.

“West Virginia…mountain mama…”

“Just because we’re still in West Virginia does not mean you have to keep singing this godforsaken song.”

“Take me home…”

Nico closes but then reopens his eyes, trying to fall asleep to no avail. Hmm, wonder why?
“…country roads.”

“Good,” Lou says. “Now you’re done. So shut up and don’t you dare start it again.”

“But we still have one mile left until we get to Kentucky. That’s time to sing it at least—”

Lou Ellen finally turns around to face him, and her eyes are as cold as stone. “Cecil, it has been three fucking hours.”

“But I took breaks,” he protests. “And I mixed it up. I sung it in all twelve different keys!”

Will groans again. “Remind me to not let you hang out with my siblings anymore.”

“I have pig balls,” Lou Ellen says, her voice deadly calm. “I will not hesitate to use them.”

Finally, Cecil goes quiet. A few minutes later, they pass a “Welcome to Kentucky” sign, and Lou Ellen hums in satisfaction.

“Half of these states I swear I’ve never heard of,” Nico mutters. “Who the hell is from Kentucky?”

“Johnny Depp,” Cecil replies.

“Abraham Lincoln,” Lou Ellen responds.

“Jennifer Lawrence,” Will says. “Oh, and Josh Hutcherson.”

Lou Ellen snorts. “Of course you’d know that.”

Nico doesn’t recognize any of the names except Lincoln, but he doesn’t question them. So maybe people did live in Kentucky; sue him. It’s not his fault he wasn’t raised in this country—at least not for very long.

“How much do you remember of Italy?” Will suddenly asks. “I mean, you were born there, right? How long did you live there?”

At first, Nico doesn’t respond. Will obviously doesn’t actually care; he’s just trying to make conversation. Or maybe he wants to spread gossip about him or something.

But when he doesn’t prod him further, Nico sneaks a glance at him. He’s already looking back at him, his eyes wide and a frown forming on his face.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to intrude if you don’t want to talk about it. Forget I asked anything.”

Lou Ellen and Cecil have fallen silent. No one’s teasing him, no one’s making fun of him or trying to get him to say anything. When he meets Will’s eyes, all he can make out in them is concern and curiosity.

“Cecil, how much longer in Kentucky?” he asks.

“About six hours.”

Holy Hera. Why does America have to be so fucking huge?

“Fine,” he sighs. “I guess there’s time for a story.” He leans his elbow on the door and rests his head in his hand, facing the driver’s seat in front of him. “I was born in Venice.”

“That’s the place with the gondolas, right?”

He can’t help chuckling. “Yes, Will. The place with the gondolas.”

“Sorry. I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

He nods, still staring straight ahead. “Yeah, there’s a lot more.” He pauses for a moment, allowing the images to come forward in his mind—what few of them there were. “I lived on a pretty busy street in the center of town. I don’t remember a ton of the buildings, but I know there was a theatre within walking distance. My mom used to take us there to see shows.” He swallows. “And there was a little field in the schoolyard where we played football.”

“We?” Will asks, his voice soft.

“Me and my friends,” Nico replies. “I can’t remember their names. Or even what they looked like. But I think it was usually me and three other boys from my class.”

“When you say football, do you mean soccer?” Cecil asks.

Nico finally turns to glare at him over the seat. “No, I mean real football. Not the stupid American kind with the tackling and the weird-shaped ball.”

Cecil raises his hands. “Sorry. I should know better.”

“That’s really cool,” Will says. “I always wanted to play soccer—or football, whatever you want to call it. I was never very athletic, though.”

“Really?” Nico asks, staring at him with raised eyebrows. Then he realizes the reason for his surprise and turns away again before his face can turn red. “Anyway, yeah, it was cool. I don’t really remember if I was good at it or not, to be honest. I just know it was fun.”

Lou Ellen looks over her shoulder. “Some people at camp have been trying to start a league for a while, but they haven’t organized any teams or matches yet. You should give them a hand.”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

“I’d join,” Cecil chimes. “I played a little before I came to camp.”

Will nods. “I’ll join, too. I might suck at it, but I’ll try my best.”

Nico avoids looking at him. “I’ll think about it.”
It’s always been difficult for him to plan for the future when he’s always been so focused on the present. When you’re on a quest or in the middle of a battle, you can’t get bogged down in dreams or ideas—you just have to deal with the task at hand and work on getting out alive. You can’t think about starting a football team when you get home, because it’s not actually a when but an if.

“Do you remember anything else?” Will asks. “If you don’t mind talking about it.”

Nico shrugs, still avoiding his gaze. “A few bits and pieces. I remember the language pretty well. I remember having a cousin I was close with, but I don’t remember his name. I remember listening to opera music with my mother, and I remember my sister hated it.” He shakes his head. “Nothing’s really fully there. It’s all more vague feelings than solid memories. Sort of like deja vu.”

He catches something move in the corner of his eye, and when he glances down at the seat, he sees that it’s Will’s hand, resting in the space between them. Almost like he’s trying to bridge the divide.

Slowly, cautiously, Nico places his down, too, a few inches away. Not touching it, but next to it. Close enough that he can feel a bit of warmth radiating from it.

A few silent moments later, Lou Ellen announces that she’s going to get back to reading her book, Cecil borrows Will’s iPod to listen to music, and Will says he’s going to try to nap for a few hours. Cecil hands him his pillow from the trunk, and he attempts to shove one end of it between the top of the seat and the window so he can sort of lean the side of his head against it, but it falls out of place almost immediately. He curses and moves to try it again, and it almost looks like it’s working, but then he sighs and pulls the pillow back into his lap. It’s obviously not comfortable.

“Hey,” Nico blurts, and he turns his head. “Um, you could lay down on the seat if you want. I don’t mind.”

Will’s eyes widen. “Really? You sure?”

Nico shrugs. “Yeah. I don’t care. Just don’t lay on top of me; we don’t want a repeat of earlier.”

That makes Will’s face flush a little. “Ha. Yeah. I won’t.” He then places the pillow down in between them, pressing up against Nico’s right leg, unbuckles his seatbelt, and curls up on his side. Both of them are a bit squished, but Nico really doesn’t care. Will has a lot of shit to deal with up ahead, so who is he to deny him a good sleep?

He glances up at Nico. “Wake me up when we stop for dinner. Or before then if you get bored.” Before Nico can respond, he closes his eyes.

Nico pulls his gaze away from Will and focuses on the countryside out the window. The dull green fields and occasional herd of cows are much less interesting than Will’s face, he notes. But watching someone sleep is creepy.

But you’re already creepy, he tells himself.

No. He’s not going down that route. It would be incredibly weird to watch his friend sleep, even if his head is really close to his leg and his blond curls look really soft. Oh, gods, now he’s thinking about touching them. That’s even creepier.

Shut the fuck up, Nico, he says to the voices in his head.

“We should stop at seven,” Lou Ellen says quietly, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He glances at the clock. That would give them three more hours of driving.

“Sure,” he replies.

Then he leans his head against the window and goes back to watching the fields and cows fly by, trying to ignore the warmth he can feel pressed up against his leg.

It’s going to be a long three hours.

Chapter Text

When the clock hits seven, Cecil, who must have overheard Nico and Lou Ellen’s earlier conversation, leans over the seat and takes out his headphones.

“Time for dinner?” he asks, his voice bright and hopeful.

“In a few minutes, sure,” Lou Ellen replies, still engrossed in her book. “Why don’t you keep an eye out for signs and find a place for us to eat?”

“Will do,” Cecil agrees.

Nico figures now is a good time to wake Will up. He’s still lying on the seat, and every time they had to round a bend on the highway, his head seemed to press further and further against the side of Nico’s leg. He might as well be lying in his lap at this point.

Hesitantly, he reaches a hand toward his shoulder. How exactly is he supposed to do this?

“Just give him a good shake. He’s a light sleeper.”

Nico glances up to see Lou Ellen watching him over her shoulder. He does as she says, gently placing a hand on Will’s arm and shoving it a bit.

A few seconds later, his eyes blink open. “Huh?” Then they land on Nico’s. “Oh. Hey.”

His smile is so big it should be illegal. Nico turns away and looks back out the window.

“We’re stopping for dinner,” he says.

“Oh,” Will says again. “Alright.” Nico watches in his peripheral vision as Will pushes himself back up into his former seat. When Nico risks a glance over at him, he has to swallow down a laugh. The entire left side of Will’s hair is matted and flat, and there are some lines in his skin from the creases and seams in the car seat. He at least must notice the hair part, because after a moment, he reaches up and cards his fingers through it, returning it to a more natural state.

“There,” Cecil says suddenly. He’s pointing to a sign on the side of the road, his arm stretching out in between Nico and Will. “McDonald’s.”

Will turns to him. “Ew. You really want to eat that processed chemical sludge?”

Cecil snorts. “I’m not going to let you ruin McChicken Biscuits for me, Doc.”

“Just get fries, Will,” Lou Ellen says with a sigh. “And you can eat my apple slices.”

Will huffs and then faces Nico. “Are you really down for this?”

Nico shrugs. “I ate there all the time when I was on my own, so I don’t care.” He doesn’t mention the bringing sacrifices to raise dead spirits part. He figures it isn’t relevant to the current conversation.

Will groans and lets his head hit the window with a clunk. “Ugh. Not you, too.”

“Three to one,” Cecil says. “McDonald’s wins.”

Nico feels a little bad for Will—he knows how bad fast food is for you; he just doesn’t care—but he doesn’t say anything, because then the pressure will be on him to find somewhere else to eat.

He directs Jules-Albert off the highway at the next exit, and the glowing golden arches are easily spotted in the dark, desolate little town into which they have emerged. There is only one car parked in the lot, and they pull into a spot on the other side. Will’s still grumbling about the dangers of fast foot until he steps out of the car and nearly collapses as soon as his feet hit the pavement.

“My legs,” he groans. “We’ve been cooped up in that car for way too long.”

“I told you,” Nico says as he stands on the ground beside him. “I could’ve—”

“No.” Will actually puts a finger up to Nico’s mouth to shut him up, and it freaks him out so much that he actually does. “I told you, no shadow travel. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Come on, idiots,” Lou Ellen calls, already halfway to the door.

Cecil leads them into the restaurant and up to the counter, and he orders three of those stupid chicken biscuit things he mentioned for himself and a medium fry for Will, who mutters something to himself about too much sodium and bad oil. Lou Ellen asks for a cheeseburger with a side of apple slices. Nico steps up to the register last and orders a burger and fries and adds an Oreo McFlurry, just to piss Will off a bit more.

The cashier is an acne-ridden teenage boy who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but there. “Sorry,” he deadpans, like he’s reading off of a script. “Our ice cream machine is broken.”

“Never mind, then,” Nico mutters. He turns to the others. “You guys all set?”

Will looks at him strangely—probably happy that he doesn’t get to eat ice cream—but Lou Ellen and Cecil nod. Nico then hands over his black credit card before Cecil can finish digging cash out of his back pocket. After the cashier hands it back, he walks away. Nico turns to grab napkins and packets of salt and ketchup, but Lou Ellen’s wide-open jaw makes him freeze.

“You have a credit card?” she asks. “You don’t even have a job.”

He quickly returns it to his pocket. “It’s from my dad.” Then he pushes past her to get to the counter where the condiments are held.

He really wishes people would stop asking him dumb questions. He’s not at all in the mood for conversation. He’s hungry, and he’s sick of being in the car all day. He kind of wants to just run, let his legs stretch out and feel the fresh air—and he really wants to shadow travel.

It’s suffocating, sitting in that car. It’s not the worst thing in the world—if there’s anyone who knows worse, it’s him—but it is sort of reminiscent of the jar, of being trapped inside a small, enclosed space for hours and hours and…

“Hey.” Suddenly, there’s a warm hand gripping his upper arm—not the one with stitches in it. “Are you alright?”

He looks down at his hands, realizing he’s gripping the counter so hard that his knuckles are bluish white (not that that’s very hard to accomplish with his current skin tone) and his wrists are shaking.

“Is it something one of us said?” Will asks softly. Nico still doesn’t turn to look at him. “Was it Lou?”
He manages to shake his head, taking a deep breath. Will was the one who taught him how to do this—how to calm down by counting slowly while breathing to make sure the inhales and exhales are long enough. He’d never admit it to Will’s face, but it works pretty well.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head again.

Will loosens his grip. “If you change your mind, let me know.” He pauses for a moment, still holding onto his arm. “By the way, my mom makes really good homemade ice cream. It’s much better than McFlurries. I think you’ll like it.”

He finally turns to face him. “Yeah?”

Will smiles. “Yeah.” Then he finally lets go. “Ready to enjoy some gross, greasy Frankenfood?”

Nico tries for something that isn’t a scowl or a frown. “Of course.”

***

Their food is given to them relatively quickly, and they rush out of the restaurant with it and back into the car as soon as they can. All four of them inhale as much fresh outdoor air as they possibly can before rolling up the windows as they merge onto the highway once again.

“At least that kid wasn’t an Empousa,” Cecil mutters as he bites into his first Chicken McBiscuit.

“We’re lucky,” Lou Ellen says, munching on her cheeseburger. “Only running into one monster? We’re four demigods, and one of us is a child of the Big Three. We made as well blast our location out on the radio.”

“Jules-Albert helps keep us concealed,” Nico explains. “He drives fast enough that we’re moving too quickly for our scent to actually be picked up by anything. So we’re only really in danger when we stop.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Cecil says.

Nico glances at Will as they all finish up their food. He’s picking at one of Lou Ellen’s apple slices and largely ignoring the fries Cecil ordered for him. He hasn’t said much of anything since they returned to the car. Nico wonders if he should try to make conversation with him, and then wonders why the hell he thinks he needs to do that.

But he’s really tempted to. It’s getting on his nerves how Will isn’t acting like his usual self. He’s frowning at his food and not saying anything.

“Do you really hate fries that much?” Nico asks.

Will lifts his head. “No. They’re fine. I’m just not that hungry.”

Nico glances toward Lou Ellen, who’s putting in earbuds, and then back at Cecil, who’s already wearing headphones. Then he turns back to Will. “Is…everything alright?” he asks quietly.

Will smirks a little. “Worried about me, di Angelo?”

Nico huffs. “You just look like you’re upset about something.”

Will’s smile fades, and he sets the food down on the seat between them. “I’m fine. Just thinking about my mom, since we have to visit her.”

Nico frowns. “Are you two…”

He nods. “We’re on good terms and everything, yeah. She’s great. Really nice.” He clears his throat. “That’s sort of the problem. She’s not going to want me to do this. I don’t even know if she’ll actually give me her blessing.”

“Oh,” Nico says.

“Yeah,” Will replies, laughing a little. “I’m just a little nervous to ask her, that’s all. I’m sure I can talk her into it.”

“Are you going to call her?” Nico asks. “Let her know you’re coming?”

He seems to consider this for a moment. “Hmm, that’s probably a good idea. She’s probably at work right now, so I’ll Iris-message her in a bit.”

Nico nods, studying Will’s face. There’s still something off about it. He’s weighing the pros and cons of asking him again if anything’s wrong when it hits him.

“You’re overthinking the prophecy, Will. You need to get out of your head.”

Will blinks at him. “What?”

“I know you keep thinking about it.” Nico gestures vaguely at him. “It’s written all over your face. Stop it.”

Will frowns. “But it’s important. We have to figure out what it means.”

Nico shakes his head. “It’s just going to stress you out. The answers will come to you eventually.”

Just then, Lou Ellen leans over the back of her seat, taking out one earbud. “You guys talking about the prophecy?”

Nico glares at her. “No. Let’s not talk about it.”

But she pulls her other earbud out and looks at Will. “I’ve been thinking about the third line—three brave souls, accompanied by death. I think it’s pretty obvious—it means the three of us—” She points to herself, then Will, and then waves a hand toward the backseat. “—plus Nico. Like, a quest normally has three people, so that would be us, but then we need Nico, too.”

“So, I’m ‘death,’” Nico mutters. “Delightful.”

“I thought about that, too,” Will admits. “But I think it could have another meaning, as well. It could be something more serious.”

Lou Ellen shrugs. “Could be. But I’ve got no ideas.”

Actually, there’s an idea that all three of them probably share, but no one wants to say it. It has quite a bit to do with the fourth and final line of the prophecy.

“We’re all getting back home,” Nico blurts. He doesn’t know why he’s saying this. “We’re all gonna make it out of this alive, no matter what, okay? I don’t want to hear anyone saying otherwise.”

Why is he lying to them? He has no way to guarantee that. For all he knows, they could all die on this quest. But something about Will’s tone and expression and mannerisms and everything about how he is acting is getting on his nerves.

Lou Ellen doesn’t respond; she turns back to her iPod and puts back in her earbuds. She probably knows exactly what Nico’s doing.

Will stares at a point on the floor, still frowning. He’s silent for a moment, and when he speaks up again, his voice is small and a bit shaky.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah,” Nico replies. “Of course.”

And then when he lifts his head again, he’s smiling.

“Thanks, Nico.”

Is it okay to lie to make people feel better?

Maybe that’s what useless idiots have to do to help the ones they care about.

***

“‘Welcome to Tennessee,’” Lou Ellen reads with a yawn.

Nico watches out the windshield as they whizz by yet another state boundary. It’s been two hours since the McDonald’s stop, and all conversation has pretty much died down completely. The last time he spoke was when he turned down Will’s offer of the rest of his fries.

“How much longer ’til we get to Austin, Cecil?” Will asks. His accent sounds a bit different—his syllables a bit longer, each vowel more drawn-out. Nico wonders if it’s just because he’s tired or because they’re officially in the Deep South.

“T-minus nine hours,” Cecil replies. “We’ll be there at six in the morning if we drive through the night.”

“So we should probably get some sleep, then,” Will remarks.

“Yeah,” Cecil says. “I’ll need a lot of energy to meet your mom tomorrow, if she’s anything like you.”

Will rolls his eyes, but he smiles a little, too. “I’m a little offended, but you’re not wrong.”

“I’m crashing back here,” Cecil then announces. “Good night, guys.”

“Good night,” Lou Ellen calls from the front seat. Then she turns to face Will and Nico. “I’m gonna try to fall asleep, too. See you guys in the morning.”

After bidding her good night, too, and she puts her earbuds back in, Will collects the food trash from the middle seat and the floor and puts it into a paper bag. Once he’s picked up everything, he rolls over the top of the bag and gets on his knees on his seat in order to toss it into the trunk without hitting Cecil.

“Are you going to sleep?” he asks, coming back to face Nico. “You probably should, especially after shadow traveling earlier.”

Nico shrugs. “I’m not tired.”

Will raises an eyebrow. “I’m not, either, but I took a nap earlier. You didn’t.”

“I’m fine,” he replies, but almost immediately afterwards, Will catches him hiding a yawn behind his hand.

“Aha,” he says softly. “See? You should get some rest.”

It does sound tempting, honestly. But he’s not too fond of the idea of sleeping here, right next to Will. He’s not sure he’ll even be able to.

“If you’re anxious, I can help,” Will then says. “I know it’s hard to fall asleep when you’re on high alert. But sometimes my powers can help people relax.”

Nico doesn’t respond, but a moment later, he notices Will’s outstretched hand and questioning eyes.

“I’m fine,” he repeats.

“You need to sleep, Nico. You’re exhausted. I can sense that kind of stuff.”

“If we argue, we’re going to wake Lou Ellen and Cecil up.”

“So you should just listen to me, then.”

Nico huffs. “Fine. But you have to wake me up if something happens, okay?”

Will nods. “Of course.” Then he turns his hand over and pats the seat behind him. “You can lie down, if you want. You let me earlier, so it’s only fair.”

It’s only fair. Well, fine. Whatever.

Nico kicks off his sneakers and rests his head down on the middle seat, bringing his legs up behind him. It’s tight, sure, but it’s not as uncomfortable as he imagined. His head is awfully close to Will’s leg, but as long as he doesn’t move any closer, he should be—

Will lays his hand on Nico’s shoulder, and suddenly he feels his entire body flood with warmth. He would protest, he would sit up, he would push Will’s hand away, but…it’s so nice. All of those urges flee his head, and all he wants to do is close his eyes.

“Good night, Nico,” Will murmurs.

He doesn’t even have the energy to say it back before he drifts off into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Nico wakes up to the feeling of being engulfed in a warm duvet.

Then he remembers that he’s in a car and doesn’t have a duvet, so he opens his eyes in confusion.

He’s laying on his side on the backseat, which he remembers, but there’s something covering his back and shoulders, which he doesn’t. He pulls at one corner of it—it’s some sort of thick blue fabric—and a zipper hits him in the forehead.

“Ow,” he mutters.

Something beneath his head shifts. Oh, gods, what is he lying on?

“You awake?”

He turns his head toward the voice, and he’s looking directly up at Will. Which means his head is on Will’s lap.

He scrambles to sit up, and the blue thing falls onto his legs. A sweatshirt, he realizes.

Will laughs a little. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I just woke up, too. Did you have a good sleep?”

“I was…” he starts.

Will raises his hands in surrender. “You moved in your sleep. I didn’t want to push you off and risk waking you up. But it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Nico stares at the blue sweatshirt. “Is that…”

Will seems to choke on the air for a second before he responds. “Um, yeah. That’s mine. You just…looked cold, so I…sorry.” He reaches over and picks it up, his hand brushing up against Nico’s leg for a moment, which makes him recoil even further back.

Fortunately, he isn’t given much time to think about it or say anything stupid, because there’s a loud grunt from behind him and the creak of the leather seat as Cecil sits up.

“Morning, everyone,” he says. “Now that we’re all awake, I’ll let you know that we’re almost there.”

In the front seat, Lou Ellen takes out her earbuds. “How close?”

“Left here, Jules,” Cecil shouts. The car stops suddenly and then whips around the corner onto a side street. “This close,” he then says, pointing over the seat and out Will’s window.

“Whoah,” Will says. “We’re here.”

“This is your house, Will?” Lou Ellen asks.

“Yeah,” he exhales. They pull into the driveway.

It’s a light blue, single-story, ranch-style house with a small front yard and a short picket fence by the sidewalk. There are various types of flowers growing in window planters, and there’s a bird feeder flocked by blue jays near the front door. The windows are all closed and the curtains drawn, which is not surprising considering that it’s six in the morning.

“Do you think your mom is even awake?” Cecil asks.

Will nods. “Oh, yeah. She’s always up early.”

“Well, now we know where you get it from,” Cecil mutters in reply.

Jules-Albert parks the car and turns off the ignition. They all scramble to open their doors, but Nico makes sure to thank him on his way out. After they grab all of their luggage from the trunk, Nico lets him know that since they’ll probably stay here for a day, he can head back to the Underworld and re-materialize when he next calls on him. He nods once before disappearing, taking the car with him.

“Whoah,” Cecil says. “That’s so cool.”

Nico ignores him and hoists his backpack over his shoulder. Then he turns to follow Will up to the front door.

Will rings the doorbell, which Nico finds a bit odd considering it’s his own house, but then he remembers that Will is excessively polite all the time.

“I feel bad,” he mutters. “I should have given her some warning that we were stopping by.”

“It’s your mom, Will,” Lou Ellen replies. “I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you, no matter what.”

Nico finds that his heart rate is rising in anticipation. The last time he met someone’s mother was when he showed up uninvited to Percy’s fifteenth birthday party. He isn’t exactly nervous, per se, but he has no idea what he should say, doesn’t want to make a bad impression (on Will’s behalf more than his own), and is worried he’s going to do something to offend her.

Okay, so maybe he is a little nervous.

A few seconds later, the door is pulled open to reveal a woman who Nico knows he would immediately recognize as Will’s mother even if he had never been introduced to her as such. She has his curly blond hair, his blue eyes, and the same big, infectious smile that grows on both of their faces when they see each other.

“Will!” she cries, her southern twang giving his name more of an “e” sound. She opens her arms, and he rushes into them. Nico watches from the front steps as her hand immediately goes to hold the back of his head and she kisses his cheek. “I can’t believe you’re here. What are you doing in Texas?” Then she pulls back and glances at each of them—Lou Ellen, Cecil, and Nico. “With your friends?”

“I’ll explain everything,” Will promises, stepping away. “Mom, this is—”

She points at each of them, one at a time. “Lou Ellen. Cecil. And…you must be Nico. I’ve heard so much about you.” She grins at him, and it’s so shockingly similar to Will’s that Nico can’t form words properly.

Thankfully, Lou Ellen is there to save him from having to speak. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Solace.”

She turns to smile at her. “Please—call me Naomi.” Then she steps back into the house. “Come inside, y’all. I’ve just started making breakfast.”

Will walks through the entryway, and the rest of them follow behind. Nico shuts the door behind them.

Naomi leads them into a fairly roomy kitchen that includes seating at a counter and around a rectangular dining table. “Have a seat,” she says. “The first batch of French toast is almost ready. I’ll get out some more bread so y’all can have some. You’re lucky you stopped by on a day when I was feeling like treating myself.”

Lou Ellen and Cecil both pull out chairs at the table, but Will stays standing. “Do you need any help, Mom?”

She shakes her head and waves her spatula at him. “No, no. I’m all set. Go ahead and sit down with your friends, dear.”

Will turns away, and when he sees Nico, he smiles and shrugs, like oh, well.

Nico can’t help smiling a little, too, because Will is just like his mother—not just appearance-wise.

Will then sits down across from Lou Ellen and motions for Nico to take the chair across from Cecil. He obliges, carefully sitting down on it as if he might break it.

He feels quite out of place in the house. It’s so bright and cheery, what with its sky blue walls, neat white trim, and cozy wooden furniture. It feels like the kind of place Will and Naomi Solace would live—not Nico. He almost feels like he’s poisoning it.

Then he feels a light tap on his wrist, and he turns his head. 

“She makes really great French toast,” Will says to him. “You’ll love it.”

Nico nods. “It smells great.”

Will then smiles at him. “Wait ’til you taste it.”

A few moments later, Will gets out of his chair to grab plates from an overhead cabinet. He holds them for his mother as she uses a spatula to place a few pieces of toast on each one. He then brings them over to the table, pulls out a chair for his mom at the head of the table, and takes his seat next to Nico again.

“Let’s eat,” Naomi declares, and they all dig in.

Nico must admit, it’s a lot better than anything he could find at McDonald’s. The slices of bread are thick and crispy, sprinkled with cinnamon and drizzled with maple syrup.

After he has taken his first few bites, Will elbows him gently, his fork in his hand. “It’s good, right?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s great.”

Across the table, Lou Ellen nods, too, and Cecil practically moans. “Whoah. This is, like, the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Naomi chuckles. “I’m glad you all like it. It was Will’s favorite food when he was growing up.”

Nico glances at Will beside him. “So…you grew up here?”

Will nods. “Yeah. In this house. I moved to camp when I was twelve.”

“It was so sad when he finally left,” Naomi says. “I mean, I knew it had to happen at some point. I always knew that he was a demigod. But still. I didn’t want my little Will to leave me here all alone.”

“I’m always telling her she should start dating again,” Will says, still facing Nico. “But she won’t listen to me.”

Naomi shushes him. “I told you, I’ve got enough on my plate with work. I don’t need anyone else in my life right now.”

Will raises his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say.”

She then turns away from her son. “Nico,” she addresses, looking at him. “I’ve heard that you’ve been helping out in the infirmary since the end of the summer.”

He ignores Cecil’s snicker and nods. “Yeah. Will forced me into it at first, but it’s been interesting.”

Will huffs indignantly. “I did not force you. I asked very nicely.”

Lou Ellen cackles. “It didn’t seem very nice to me.”

While they begin bickering amongst themselves, Nico sits and finishes his breakfast in silence, though he can’t help the growing smile on his face. It’s strange, he knows, but he can’t help feeling a bit warm inside at the fact that Will has talked about him to his mother. Like he actually cares enough about their friendship to tell her about it.

It’s a strange feeling, certainly a new one, but it’s not entirely unwelcome.

After a moment, Naomi changes the subject.

“So,” she begins. “What brings the four of you to Texas? I’m sure it wasn’t just to pop in and say hi.”

“It was for the French toast,” Cecil chimes in. “All for the French toast.”

Will rolls his eyes and sighs. Nico can tell that he knows he needs to reveal his true intentions—there’s no time for skirting around the issue at hand. “We’re on a quest, Mom.”

She blinks and sets down her fork. “Oh.”

Will runs a hand through his hair. Nico’s not sure if he’s ever seen him look so nervous. “It’s…about Dad. He’s sort of…M.I.A. at the moment. And the Oracle is missing. Well—not really missing. We have a pretty good idea of where her spirit is—who it was taken by. We just have to rescue it.”

Naomi purses her lips. “And…where is it? Who?”

Will glances across the table to Lou Ellen, then Cecil, and then his eyes land on Nico’s. He can’t seem to look at his mother. “It’s…Python.”

The kitchen falls into silence. Will looks away, averting his stare to his plate.

After a painfully long moment, Naomi speaks again. Her voice is smaller, more fragile than before. “That…sounds incredibly dangerous.”

“It is,” Will admits.

“Are you sure you can handle this?”

Will shrugs, and Nico wants to punch him. How could he do this to his mother?

“Why are you here, Will?” she asks, though Nico suspects she already knows the answer.

Will can’t seem to reply, so Nico speaks up for him. “He needs your blessing,” he puts simply. “When demigods have to do something extremely dangerous like this, it’s often necessary to get the mother’s blessing first. Otherwise, he won’t be able to move on.”

Naomi’s still staring at her son, frowning. “Will, you know I don’t approve of this.”
“I know,” he says.

“But…” She sighs. “I can’t deny you my blessing.”

Will’s head shoots up.

“I can tell this means a lot to you and your friends,” she continues. “And…even if I don’t approve, I think I need to…accept it.” She shakes her head slowly. “It’s so dangerous, and I wish you didn’t have to do it. But…you’re a demigod.” She spreads her hands. “That’s what it’s all about.”

“Oh,” Will says softly. Nico’s never seen him at such a loss for words.

“I’ve always felt…guilty,” Naomi says. She laughs humorlessly. “I knew Apollo was a god when we met. I knew what being a demigod was like. I knew that Will…I knew he’d have it rough. But I still…”

She hangs her head, unable to finish.

“Naomi,” Nico cuts in. “I know it’s…not really my place to say this, but I don’t think you did anything wrong.”

She lifts her head again to look at him, waiting for him to continue.

He glances at Will for a moment, who’s already staring at him with wide eyes, and then turns back to her. “Your son, he’s…one of the most important half-bloods of our generation. He’s one of the best healers the camp has ever seen. He has saved so many lives.” He swallows down the bubble of nerves that has formed in his throat. “Mine included. So if you doubt for even a minute—” He stops abruptly as he feels something warm cover his hand underneath the table. He glances down, even though he already knows what it is. Normally, he’d yank his away, but connected with Will’s, it feels…right. If nothing else, it gives him the strength he needs to finish. “If you doubt for even a minute that you were wrong in having Will, just remember that.”

Naomi blinks, and a tear rolls down her cheek. Then another. And another.

Shit. He made her cry.

Of course he did. He can’t comfort someone like this. What the hell was he thinking?

But then she raises from her chair, surges forward, and throws her arms around him.

Will squeezes his hand tightly and then lets it go. Nico hesitantly raises it and returns her gesture as best as he can.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. Then, after just a second, she pulls away, setting her hands on his shoulders and looking down at him. “You’re a smart one, Nico. Will better keep you around for a while.”

“Hey,” Will protests. “Of course I will.”

And Nico couldn’t even put into words the amount of warmth that flowed in him at that moment if he tried. Someone better change the subject before he started crying, because he isn’t sure if he’ll be able to handle that without freaking out and shadow-traveling away.

Fortunately, Lou Ellen jumps in. “In order for the blessing to work properly, you need to say it to Will directly,” she explains. “Like this. ‘Will Solace, I give you my blessing.’”

Naomi nods, removes her hands from Nico, and looks past him to her son. She repeats Lou Ellen’s words, and then sighs. “Please, stay safe. All of you.”

Will nods, standing. “We will.”

She smiles, seemingly satisfied with his answer. “I know you probably can’t stay long, but…if any of you ever need anything, I’ll be right here. And I’m always only an Iris Message away.”

Will smiles at her, and Nico wonders how genuine it is—how scared he is underneath. “I know. Thank you, Mom.”

She smiles, too, and gazes around at all four of them. “So—where are you off to next?”

“Kansas,” Cecil says. “Dunno where, exactly. But I’ve got a hunch about Kansas.”

Naomi nods. “A hunch is a good start.” She then turns to Will again. “Honey, why don’t you show your friends around the place? Stay for a bit, if you can. I can make some sandwiches you can take with you.”

“That would be great,” Will replies. “Thank you. And, yeah, I’ll show them around.” He pushes in his chair, and Nico, Lou Ellen, and Cecil do the same. Then he tilts his head to the right, gesturing down a short hallway. “Let’s go this way.”

“Can I use the bathroom?” Cecil asks as they all follow him out of the kitchen.

“Me, too,” Lou Ellen adds.

“Of course,” Will says. “Cecil, there’s one right here.” He pushes open a door to his left, and Cecil walks inside, closing it behind him. “Lou, you can use the one attached to my mom’s bedroom. It’s right through here.” He points to a door further down on the right, and she thanks him and walks toward it.

Nico stands awkwardly behind Will in the hallway until he turns around and flashes him a big smile. “Wanna see my room?”

He somehow avoids choking on his own breath. “Uh, sure.”

Will heads to the end of the hall and opens the third door. It creaks a little as he pushes it and steps inside.

“I don’t get to stay in here much anymore,” he says as Nico follows him in. “It’s unfortunate, because I used to spend so much time cleaning it up and making sure it was perfect twenty-four seven.”

After Will flicks a light switch, Nico’s eyes first land on a bookshelf pushed against the closest wall. It’s white, about four feet tall, and adorned with all sorts of framed photos, small statues and figurines, and other little trinkets. He reaches out, almost picking up a perfectly-shaped seashell that sits on one corner, and then decides to just point to it instead, unsure if it could be fragile. He also doesn’t want to disrupt what appears to be a meticulous organization of every item sitting atop the shelf.

“Did you find this yourself?” he asks.

Will moves to stand next to him and nods, reaching out to pick up the shell himself. “I did, actually. I found it on the beach near my grandmother’s house.” His voice is soft, wistful—likely filled with sweet memories. Then he puts the shell back down and picks up a picture frame. “This was her right here, actually.”

In the photo is an older, gray-haired woman in a sundress standing by the ocean, but that isn’t what piques Nico’s interest. Beside her stands a small child, probably no older than six or seven, with windblown blond curls and unafraid to show all of the gaps in his smile.

Nico can’t help the grin that tugs at his mouth. “You were a cute kid.”

Will elbows him, causing Nico to glance up from the picture. “Has anything changed?”

He resists the urge to slap the smirk off of his stupid face and forces himself to scowl. “Yeah. I have no idea how that,” he replies, pointing at the photo, “turned into this.” He gestures from Will’s head to his feet.

Will huffs and sets the picture back down. “You’ve wounded me, di Angelo.” Then he turns around and walks toward the other side of the room. “I’m going to look for a change of clothes. I didn’t pack enough.”

While he opens his squeaky closet doors, Nico turns away from the shelf and takes a seat on the bed. It’s perfectly made, the pillows all nice and fluffed, even though he knows Will hasn’t slept in it in months.

He tries not to let weird, idiotic thoughts intrude his mind as he sits down and watches Will sift through his clothes. Staring at him from behind as he reaches for something up on a shelf isn’t really helping his cause, though. Have those jeans always been that tight?

For Zeus’ sake, he tells himself. Shut the fuck up.

Luckily, Will turns back around a moment later. He’s holding on to some kind of black garment and unfolding it.

“Didn’t know I still had this,” he says, holding it at arm’s length and giving it a once-over. It’s some kind of jacket. “I haven’t worn it in a few years.”

Nico doesn’t really know how to respond. “It looks cool,” he says.

Will catches his eye. “Do you want to try it on? I know you used to wear that old aviator jacket all the time. It suits your style.”

His mind doesn’t know what to process first—the fact that Will is offering him his old clothes, the fact that Will specifically remembers a specific thing he last wore over a year ago, or the fact that Will thinks he has any semblance of a “style.” He wears whatever he can get his hands on—preferably anything that isn’t too bright or colorful. He’s grown to like denim, he supposes, like the jacket Will’s holding out to him, but he doesn’t know if that’s really enough to constitute a “style.”

“Um,” he manages. “Sure.”

Will places it on his lap, since his arms seem to be unresponsive. “You don’t have to keep it if you don’t like it. Just give it a try.”

Nico slips it over his shoulders and stands up, tugging at the hem. It’s a bit shorter than his old one, but that one was probably too big, anyway. It’s not too warm, but it would certainly be an improvement from just a short-sleeved t-shirt in the fall and winter. He fiddles with the buttons on the sleeves for a moment before he realizes that Will hasn’t said anything. He glances up, expecting to see him turned back to his closet—and not expecting him to be staring at him from only a foot or two away.

He would step back, but he’d fall onto the bed…and he knows he’s just using that as an excuse to justify staying right where he is to himself, anyway.

“It’s nice,” he says.

Will’s mouth opens, then closes again, and then he finally gets some words out. “Yeah. It looks nice on you. I mean, in general. But also on you.” His face is flushing. “It’s warm, too, so you won’t, uh, get cold.”

“Yeah,” Nico says, unable to take his eyes away. “I won’t.”

Just then, the door creaks, and they spring apart like repellent ends of two magnets—Will stumbles back toward his closet, Nico onto the bed. He grips the hem of the jacket like it’s a lifeline.

Cecil raises an eyebrow for a moment, glancing between both of them, but then he steps into the room.

“Oh, hey, Cecil,” Will says, his voice higher than usual. “I was, uh, just looking through my closet. Do you need any extra changes of clothes?”

Cecil shakes his head. “I’m good, thanks. No offense, Will, but I don’t really wanna wear your hand-me-downs.” Cecil’s eyes meet his for a second, and Nico wonders if he should have said the same thing. But then Will just huffs and turns back to his closet.

“Suit yourself.” He rummages around for a minute more before pulling something off of a hanger and turning around with a beaming grin. “A-ha! Here’s what I was looking for.”

It’s another denim jacket, not dissimilar in style to the one Nico wore, but a faded blue instead of black, and the inside appeared to be lined with fuzzy wool—in other words, it looked like something that is definitely too warm to be wearing in Texas in the heat of the summer, but Will slips it on over his t-shirt anyway.

“How do I look?” he asks.

Nico hates that Will is looking directly at him when he poses the question. Cecil can have an opinion, too, can’t he?

Fortunately, Lou Ellen entering the room prevents him from having to cough up an answer. “I hate to interrupt your fashion show, but Annabeth just Iris-messaged me. She wants to talk to all of us.”

Chapter Text

“Lebanon.”

Will blinks at her image in the mist. “Excuse me, what?”

“Nuh-uh,” Cecil says, shaking his head and crossing his arms. “You’re not gonna tell us, after driving for twenty-four fucking hours and getting halfway across the country that we’ve got to turn around and go to fucking Lebanon.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “Lebanon, Kansas, Cecil. Not Lebanon the country.”

After a beat, his cheeks flush, and his arms fall back to his sides. “Oh.”

“There’s a Lebanon in Kansas?” Lou Ellen asks. “That’s funny. I’m from Lebanon, New Hampshire.”

“There’s one in Tennessee, too,” Will adds, a hint of childlike excitement in his voice. “I remember seeing it on an exit sign when we were passing through.”

“There’s also one in Missouri, Oklahoma, Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, Virginia, Maine, Oregon, New York, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey,” Cecil says.

Everyone turns to look at him, Annabeth included.

“What?” he asks, raising his hands like he was only reciting the alphabet. “Like I said before, god of travel.”

When Nico glanced back at Annabeth, she was still staring at Cecil with a furrowed brow and glinting eyes, like she wanted to put him under a microscope or ask him to place a bunch of obscure countries on a map, but then she cleared her throat and faced Will again.

“Anyway. That’s your destination. At least, I’m eighty-five percent sure it should be. There’s a monument there in a little park that marks the geographic center of the contiguous United States.” She smiles. “In other words, the Axis Mundi.”

Will nods. “And you’re sure this is where Python will be keeping the oracle?”

She purses her lips. “Like I said, eighty-five percent sure.”

“Right,” Will replies. Nico can tell he’s trying hard not to sound disappointed, but it still leaks into his tone. “Well, thanks for your help, Annabeth. Is…is everything at camp still running smoothly?”

She smirks. “If by everything at camp you mean the infirmary, then, yes. Everything’s fine. Austin and Kayla are hardly working more than usual—they’ve had so many extra volunteers. I think Kayla started offering ‘prizes’ to anyone who took on at least a two-hour shift.”

Will’s eyes narrow at her use of air quotes. “Prizes?”

“Oh, you know. Private archery lessons. An extra lollipop from the front desk. A chance to sit with her at the campfire.”

At her last words, Annabeth smirks, Cecil wolf-whistles, and Will groans, rubbing his temple like he has a migraine. “That girl is going to be in so much trouble when I get home,” he mutters.

Nico notices how he says home as if he’s not sitting in his own house at that very moment. As if Camp Half-Blood is more of a permanent place for him than Austin, Texas ever will be.

He also catches on to how chummy they seem—him and Annabeth. He never realized they were friends before. He wonders, then, how many other friends Will has. Other people in his life Nico doesn’t know about. After all, he’s only known Will for a little over a month. He’s probably been friends with Annabeth for years, since they’ve both been full-timers at camp for so long. Like so many others.

He glances to his left and his right, at Lou Ellen and Cecil. They’re both fifteen, so they’ve been there for at least two years or so. Which is two years longer than Nico has actually stayed there.

Suddenly, he’s hit with a wave of…something he doesn’t quite understand, and he’s not entirely sure he wants to.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbles, standing from his seat on Will’s bed so abruptly that he somehow whacks his ankle against the side of Will’s dresser in the process. But he doesn’t let the throbbing of his sure-to-be-bruised bone stop him from running out of the room, past Naomi, who doesn’t appear to notice him as she’s occupied with washing dishes, and out the front door.

He settles down on the top step, leans against his knees, and buries his head in his hands. And cries.

Once he’s started, he’s not even sure what he’s crying about anymore. Is he jealous? Worried Will doesn’t actually want him around? Intruding into a nice, close-knit group of friends already surrounding him and thinking too highly of himself?

He’s got to remind himself sometimes that he’s the son of fucking Hades. The literal embodiment of death. Who would want him in their friend circle? If he were in Will’s place, surely he’d keep himself at arm’s length.

Arms. He hadn’t registered the creaking of the door behind him, but once there’s a sudden warmth and pressure wrapped around his shoulders, he faintly recalls it. If he were in a better mood, he’d probably jump, but he’s so stuck in his head at the moment that he isn’t even sure if what he’s experiencing is reality.

“Nico,” a voice says. Not a question, a statement. Grounding him. Bringing him back to the present.

“Nico,” Will repeats. “Look at me.”

For some reason, he listens. Despite the tears streaking down his cheeks, he lifts his head from his arms and stares at Will, who’s somehow much closer than Nico expected him to be.

There’s only inches separating their eyes. “Breathe,” Will says, and he inhales, chest swelling. Nico follows along. Then he releases the air through his mouth, and it tickles Nico’s chin. He does the same, watching as his exhale causes a piece of Will’s hair to flutter away from his face.

They repeat the same action again and again—Nico’s not sure how many times—until he can’t feel the moisture on his cheeks anymore. Until his vision is no longer blurred. When Will notices this, he moves from where he has been crouched awkwardly on the step below Nico to take a seat next to him. One of his arms stays, however, wrapped around both of his shoulders.

Then comes the first question. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighs, fiddling with the skull ring on his middle finger with the thumb of the same hand. “Not really.” But he knows Will’s still going to try.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks next. “And don’t say no just because you don’t want to bother me. I’ll do whatever I can.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. But…thanks.”

Will lets his arm fall—it’s still behind him, still brushing up against his back, but his hand is on the ground now. “I think all this driving is getting to all of us. I swear I almost stabbed Cecil at least twenty-three times in West Virginia.”

He feels a smile tug at his lips. “Twenty-three times? Like Caesar?”

Will grins. “Like Caesar.” Then his expression shifts back to something more serious. “Listen, though, Nico. You can talk to me about anything. Whatever’s bothering you, no matter how big or how small. Even if it’s just, like, a rock in your shoe, or something. I promise.”

Nico can’t help raising his eyebrows and giving him a look. “A rock in my shoe?”

Will’s face flushes. “It was just an example.”

He snorts in brief laughter. “Not a very good one.”

Will whacks his shoulder with the back of his free hand, but he’s smiling again. “Sorry for trying to be a good friend.”

“You are,” Nico blurts. When Will’s eyes widen, he starts spluttering. “A—uh—a good friend. You are.”

Will stares at him for a beat too long before cracking a grin and nudging him with his shoulder. “Thanks, Yoda.”

“What did you just call me?”

But it’s too late; Will’s already standing up again, brushing off his jeans and offering Nico a hand.

“Ready to rejoin society?” he asks.

“Not particularly,” he grumbles, but he takes Will’s hand anyway and allows himself to be pulled back into the house.

They find Lou Ellen and Cecil seated at the kitchen counter, having an animated conversation with Naomi, who stands on the opposite side, clicking the lid onto some sort of clear plastic container. When she hears the door close behind them, she catches Nico’s eye and smiles, and he can tell from just that one look that knows exactly what just happened between him and her son.

“Glad you two could join us. I was just explaining to Lou and Cecil here the process of making ice cream from scratch.” Then she looks to Will. “Think y’all can stay a little while longer?”

Walking up to the counter, Will pulls out a chair for Nico and himself. “Sure,” he replies. He catches Nico’s eye for a second, and he’s struck by just how similar his concerned gaze is to his mother’s. “I think we all need to stretch our legs for a bit.”

After taking his seat, Nico feels a gentle, warm brush against his fingertips. He doesn’t even spare a glance down before allowing Will to take his hand in his own and give it a gentle squeeze, hidden underneath the countertop.

A little while longer, he thinks. He could stay here forever.

Chapter Text

About an hour later, all four demigods come to a silent, unanimous—albeit reluctant—decision that they should probably be on their way out.

Will breaks the news to his mother. “I’m sorry, but we’ve got to get going, Mom. This quest is better finished sooner rather than later.”

She nods. “I understand.” Then she hurries to the freezer, and out of the drawer she pulls two more containers like the ones she was holding earlier. “Here! Take these with you. You’ll want something sweet later; I just know it.” She hands one to Will and one to Cecil, who happens to be closest to her, before holding up a stern finger. “Now, boys, make sure you share.”

Will rolls his eyes. “I’m not five, Mom.”

“I know,” she says. “But look at poor Nico. He’s so skinny. And Lou could use some meat on her bones, too.”

Nico just stands there, biting the inside of his mouth, until he thinks to spare a glance at Lou Ellen. When he realizes she’s already looking at him with a hint of a smile—like, gods, don’t you hear this all the time? It’s so annoying—he can’t help grinning a little, too. Maybe getting along with people doesn’t have to be so hard. Maybe it just comes down to the little things, like finding something in common to complain about.

Maybe, just maybe, he could get along with Will’s friends. Find a place in the group.

After hugging Cecil and Lou Ellen, Naomi turns to Nico, arms wide open. Nico hesitates for a moment, glancing sideways at Will—who is already looking at him and gives an encouraging little nod—before giving in and allowing Naomi to nearly squeeze the breath out of his lungs.

Before letting him go, she whispers into his ear. “You’re a good guy, Nico,” she says. “Don’t let Will get away from you, alright? And if he gives you any trouble, you know who to call.”

Nico instantly feels his face heat up, praying to the gods that no one else heard her words. Once he’s freed from her embrace, he glances at the others, but their faces don’t betray a thing.

She hugs Will last, and her arms stay wrapped around him the longest.

“My sweet boy,” Nico hears her mutter, and he almost wants to turn away. It feels like he’s overhearing something he shouldn’t. But Cecil and Lou Ellen don’t move, so he stays put, staring at the floor.

“Will. You have my blessing. But be careful, alright? You’re going to be here for Christmas, hmm?”

Will pulls away from his mother, laying his hands on her shoulders, and nods with such a firmness that it even gives Nico a bit of hope. “Of course, Mom.”

“Good,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper. Nico suspects that if she tried to speak any louder, it might crack. She pats him on the cheek one last time before stepping away, folding her hands as if she’s about to say a prayer.

Then Will turns and leads them out the front door. Nico takes one last glance at the inside of the house before letting it close behind him, wondering if he’ll ever have breakfast in this kitchen again.

***

When Cecil calculates that it will take them at least another ten hours to arrive in Lebanon, Kansas, the car echoes with a chorus of groans. Nico suspects even Jules-Albert might have joined in.

“Ten?” Lou Ellen asks. “Seriously? Why can’t anything be in the single digits?”

“Bet the population of this stupid place is,” Nico mutters.

“Hey, watch it,” Will says. When Nico raises his eyebrows at him, he pouts. “We country folk have to stick together.”

“Country folk?” Nico can’t help laughing. “Will, you’re from a capital city.”

“Yeah,” Cecil chimes in. “Will wouldn’t last a day out in the wilderness.”

“He’d be wondering where the Clorox wipes are when he gets dirt on his shoe,” Lou Ellen adds, giggling.

“Hey!” Will protests. “I’ve gone camping before. I’m not entirely clueless. And I own a pair of Timberlands that I wouldn’t mind getting a little muddy.”

“Oh, sorry,” Lou Ellen replies. “I must be confusing them with the pair that you cried over last summer when you stepped in pegasus dung.”

There it is again—last summer. A summer Nico wasn’t, and won’t ever be, a part of. The little knot in his stomach twists just a bit.

He stares out the window as Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil continue their conversation.

***

Once they’ve been stuck in unmoving, bumper-to-bumper traffic in Fort Worth for nearly twenty minutes, Cecil suggests that they play a game, and Nico is bored enough that the only thing more entertaining he can think of doing is gouging his own eyes out, so he agrees.

“What game?” Lou Ellen asks from the front seat, where she’s snacking on Twizzlers—her fourth package in the past two hours. Nico has never seen such a small person fit so much sugar into their body in such a short span of time.

“How about Truth or Dare?”

Will immediately shoots it down. “No. You guys always make it weird.”

Nico can’t say he’s not grateful. But, honestly, he would take weird over nothing right about now.

“How about Twenty Questions?” Lou suggests through a mouthful of candy.

That game is apparently Will-approved. He nods and turns to Nico. “Sounds good to me.”

Nico shrugs. He’s never played it before. “Yeah, fine.”

“Can I start?” Cecil asks.

“Sure,” Will replies. He’s still facing Nico. “Wanna ask the first question, Nico?”
He shrugs again. “I don’t really know how this game works.”

“Oh,” Will says, blinking once before smiling and shifting in his seat a little. “It’s pretty simple. Cecil’s gonna think of either an object or a person, and it’s our job to guess what he’s thinking of, but we only get to ask him twenty yes-or-no questions. So we can take turns, you and Lou and I.”

Before he can even nod, Lou Ellen turns in her seat to look at them. “I can start, if you want.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Nico says to her.

“Okay.” She nods. “Ready, Cecil?”

“Yeah,” he chimes from the backseat.

“Okay. Is it an animal?”

“No.”

“Vegetable?” Will asks. Then he leans across the middle seat, cupping a hand around his mouth, and whispers. “Say mineral.”

Nico raises an eyebrow but goes along with it, and it gets Will to smile at him, so maybe he’s doing something right.

The game continues for another ten minutes or so, Lou Ellen eventually narrowing the unknown object down to some person from Camp Half-Blood.

When it’s his turn again, Will pauses. “Hmm. Guy or girl?”

“Guy.” Cecil then turns to Nico.

Nico frowns. “Um. What cabin?”

Cecil grins. “Not a yes-or-no question.”

He feels his face heat up. “Oh. Um…are they from Cabin Eleven?”

“No.”

“Well, I suppose that is the easiest way to narrow it down,” Lou Ellen says, a finger on her chin. “We’ve still got ten questions left, so we can start with the larger cabins. Are they from the Aphrodite cabin?”

“Nope.”

Will smirks. “Apollo cabin?"

Cecil scoffs. “As if I would make it that easy for you.”

They take turns asking about almost all of the other cabins, receiving the same answer each time, until they’re down to only three questions left.

“Okay,” Lou Ellen says. She has completely turned around in her seat at this point, sitting with her legs folded underneath her, bag of Twizzlers left neglected on the console. “Obviously this cabin thing isn’t working. I’m gonna take a risk here, bear with me.” She takes a deep breath. “Are they a Big Three kid?”

Cecil takes his time grinning before he answers. “Yes.”

Will’s brow furrows, and he starts drumming his fingers against the middle seat. “Hmm. Tricky.” After a moment, he speaks up again. “Do they…have dark hair?”

Cecil nods. “Yup.” 

“Damn it,” Will mutters. “I thought it might be Jason. Sorry, Nico.”

Then Cecil turns to Nico again, awaiting his final question.

“So I have to guess who it is now?” Nico asks.

“Yeah,” Will replies.

“Um. Okay.” He takes the time to assess his options. There’s himself, obviously, but would Cecil really make it that obvious? There’s Hazel, too, but Cecil didn’t know her very well, so it would be odd for him to think of her out of anyone or anything. Same with Thalia. So that left him with…

“Is it Percy?”

“Ding ding ding!” Cecil says, grinning. “You are correct! And your grand prize is…” He disappears for a second, leaning down to possibly rummage around his backpack. A few seconds later, he re-emerges, holding a small package of Oreos, which he promptly tosses at Nico. “Cookies! Congratulations.”

Nico catches them and stares. “Um. Thanks?”

“You’re quite welcome,” Cecil replies. “I was worried you guys weren’t gonna get that one. But you came through.”

As he moves to set the cookies down on the middle seat (since he probably will offer them to Will anyway after inevitably not eating them), he glances up and notices that Will’s leaning his head against the window, his arms folded, as if he wants to be as far away from Nico as humanly possible. And Nico has a feeling he’s not just allergic to Oreos.

He is tempted to reach over and tap him on the shoulder or at least ask him if something’s wrong, but Lou Ellen then announces that it’s her turn, and the game continues.

After Nico guesses what she’s thinking of—an obscure character from a Dickens novel, which Cecil and Will both deem unfair, but Nico secretly appreciates (“How did you even know that?” “I grew up in the forties, Will; it’s not like we could entertain ourselves with much else.”)—Nico then takes his own turn, and Will is able to easily guess that he’s thinking of Mrs. O’Leary. Will is up next, and Nico notices that any trace of how his shoulders slumped and face contorted into a frown earlier has disappeared. Still, he wonders if it was something he did or said, but he pushes the thought aside for now.

***

They make a stop for dinner just north of Oklahoma City. Nico directs Jules-Albert off the highway and into the town of Stillwater.

“Where do y’all want to eat?” Lou Ellen asks, turning to look at them over her shoulder.

“Anywhere,” Cecil moans. “I’m starving.”

Will gasps, leaning towards Nico and pointing out the window. “Chick-fil-a!”

“It’s Sunday,” Lou Ellen replies.

Will and Cecil groan in unison.

“Godsdammit,” Will mutters. “A chicken sandwich would’ve made my day.”

“There’s a McDonald’s,” Nico says, nodding toward the intersection in front of them. “You could get a McChicken.”

“Oh, Nico,” Will says, laying a hand on his arm. “You poor soul. A McChicken could never compare to the godsend that is Chick-fil-a.”

“It’s better than ambrosia,” Cecil chimes in. “In fact, that’s what ambrosia tastes like for me.”

“Burger King?” Lou Ellen suggests.

“I can compromise for Burger King,” Cecil says.

“Fine with me,” Will replies. He turns to Nico. “You ever had Burger King?”

“No.”

Will smiles. “It’s like McDonald’s, but better.”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.”

He shrugs, turning to look out the window. “Fine with me, then.”

Chapter Text

After successfully ordering at Burger King and receiving their food without any surprise monster cameos, Lou Ellen suggests that they eat outside the car so they can stretch their legs for a bit longer.

The parking lot is almost entirely deserted, so Nico figures they’re probably safe. Cecil paces in circles, muttering to himself between slurps of a giant soda that Nico can only assume will lead to increased complaining and begging for bathroom stops. Lou Ellen leans against the passenger side door while she eats her chicken sandwich, as if she’s worried someone is going to steal her prized front seat. She watches Cecil with a knowing sort of smile but makes no attempt to respond to his mumblings.

Will stands at the back of the car, resting his head against the windshield and gripping the bumper with both hands. Nico walks over to him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are fixated on something in the distance.

“Finished with your burger?”

His head turns to glance at Nico. “Yeah.” He looks away again, and Nico follows his gaze.

He steps closer, leaning back against the car. When he puts his hand down, it’s inches from Will’s. “Pretty.”

“Hmm?"

“The sunset.”

Will nods. “Oh. Yeah. It is.”

“It’s the same sunset, you know. They’ve already seen it at camp. Just a few hours ago.”

Will blinks. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Nico shifts ever-so-slightly closer. His elbow brushes up against Will’s forearm. “Did I ever tell you about the time I got to ride in your dad’s sun bus?”

Will blinks again, this time turning to face him. “You what?"

Nico grins. “Yeah. It was how I was brought to camp. It’s usually a car, you know, not a chariot anymore, but he needed to drive quite a few of us, so he turned it into a bus.”

Will exhales a shaky laugh. “Wow. So—” His eyes widen. “You’ve met him?”

“Mhm.”

“What was he like?”

“Well, Thalia said he was hot.”

A smirk grows on Will’s face. “Would you agree?”

Nico huffs. “I just thought his haikus were annoying.”

“So, nowhere near as good as mine, then.”

He grins. “Like father, like son.” But when Will frowns, he laughs. “Kidding. Of course yours are better.”

Will’s eyes narrow. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Am not. I love your haikus, promise.”

Neither of them say anything for a moment. Nico can’t read the expression on Will’s face. It’s not a frown anymore, but not quite a smile, either. He’s the one to break eye contact, though, and turns back to face the setting sun.

“I should probably stop thinking about this prophecy, huh?”

“You probably should.”

“It’s just—that last line. About drawing my final breath. It couldn’t possibly mean—”

“Will,” Nico says sharply. “Stop it.”

He doesn’t realize he’s gripping Will’s wrist until they’re both looking down at it. But Will doesn’t move, so neither does he.

“I’m sorry,” Will says. “But I can’t help it. I mean, I just don’t want to—” He sighs. “You saw my mom. I can’t leave her. Or my siblings. Or you guys. I don’t want to. I’m—” His voice lowers, and he averts his eyes to the ground. “I’m scared, Nico.”

Nico slides his hand down to Will’s. “Of course you’re scared. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Will shrugs his free shoulder halfheartedly. “I don’t know. Because I’m a demigod? I’m supposed to be brave.”

“You are brave, silly,” Nico says. He taps Will’s index finger with his own. “What makes you brave is that you’re scared, but you do what you have to do anyway.”

Will looks up at him, his eyes round and blue and glistening. “You really think so?”

“Of course.”

A smile finally appears on his face, and he squeezes Nico’s hand. “Thanks, Nico.”

Nico’s suddenly slammed with the reality that they are staring into each other’s eyes, holding hands, backlit by the sunset. He coughs and glances over his shoulder.

Will seems to follow his eyes. “What the hell is Cecil doing?”

“Who knows,” Nico says. “Should we get going?”

“Probably,” Will replies. But they stay where they are, hands locked together, for a moment longer.

***

“Flat farmland,” Cecil finally says after they’ve been back on the road for nearly five minutes. “Nothing but flat farmland.”

“Huh?” Will asks.

“Lebanon,” he says. “The geographical center. It’s not a touristy place or anything. It’s at the intersection of two roads, surrounded by empty fields.”

“Gods, do you have, like, a personal Google Maps built in to your brain or something?”

“I guess you could call it that,” Cecil replies. “It takes a bit more work, though. But I’ve got a fuzzy image in my head right now. No trees, really—well, a few, but not enough.”

“What do you mean, enough?” Will asks.

“I get it,” Nico says. “He’s talking about for a battle. If Python’s really there, he could easily be right out in the open, completely exposed.”

“Exactly,” Cecil says. “Which could benefit us, but it could also disadvantage us, ‘cause—”

“Because of my shadow-travel,” Nico finishes. “If we’re fighting during the day, it won’t be easy for me to find a shadow.”

“Precisely my thoughts. And as for the rest of us who don’t have O.P. teleportation powers, it means we’re more exposed, too. No easy hiding places.”

“Great,” Will mutters. “Just what we need.”

“Hey, let me finish,” Cecil says. “All it means is that we should attack—”

“At night!” Lou Ellen exclaims, leaning over the back of her seat. “We should attack at night. Right?”

“So much for letting me finish,” Cecil mumbles. “But you’re right. Our best bet is to attack Python when it’s dark. That way, Nico can shadow-travel, and all of us can hide more easily.”

“Wait,” Will starts, “I don’t—”

“The mist works better in the dark, too,” Lou Ellen interrupts. “I should be able to conceal us almost completely. Of course, when we’re actually fighting, it’s going to be a lot more difficult for me to keep up the magic, but we should be able to get one good sneak attack in.”

“Hang on—”

“Yeah,” Cecil continues. “I’m thinking, wherever he’s hiding, if we surround him on all sides, and use the Mist and Nico’s powers to our advantage, we can defeat him before he even knows what’s hit him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lou Ellen says.

“Guys,” Nico says, staring at Will, who has gone silent.

Lou Ellen leans over the back of her seat. “What? I—oh.”

Will is staring out the window, but Nico can see the frown reflected in the glass.

“Will?” he asks. “Are you…alright?”

“I’m fine,” he mutters, sounding exactly the opposite.

The car grows quiet. Lou Ellen turns back to her magic book, and Nico hears music coming from Cecil’s headphones, leaving him to watch Will, who’s watching drops of water collect on the window as the sky darkens.

He tries again a moment later. “Hey.”

Obviously, they’re in such close quarters that Lou Ellen and Cecil probably hear him, but neither of them acknowledge it, and he’s grateful.

Will glances at him and smiles glumly. “Hey.”

“Remember what I told you earlier?” he asks softly.

Will shakes his head. “This isn’t about that anymore.”

“Is it about me shadow-traveling? I’ll be fine, Will, c’mon.”

He shakes his head again, but he does smile a little. “Not that, either. I’m sure you’ll be fine. It’s just…” He looks down at his hands as he opens and closes a fist. “What can I even do to help?”

Nico blinks. “What do you mean?”

Will sighs. “You can shadow-travel. Lou can manipulate the mist. Cecil can figure out where the hell we’re going. But I’ve done nothing at all so far except pass out on top of you after you saved me from the empousa.” He keeps his fist clenched for a second longer. “It’s supposed to be my quest, and I can’t even do anything on my own.”

His words are so mind boggling that it takes Nico a few seconds to process them. “You what?” He leans a little closer, still keeping his voice low. “Will, you’re literally risking your life to save the Oracle.”

“Yeah, but my powers are completely useless on this quest. I’m not meant to be a fighter, Nico. I’m not meant to be here.”

Nico does the only logical thing—reaches out and takes Will’s hand, preventing it from balling itself up again. “That’s stupid.”

Will looks up at him, eyebrows raised.

“I mean—” He sighs. “You know what I mean. You’re not useless, Will. You’re doing this because no one else can. You’re the son of Apollo.”

“Not the only one,” Will mumbles.

“The only one who should be here,” Nico says. “You’re risking your life to protect your siblings—to protect the whole camp, really. The prophecy was directed at you. So, obviously you’re meant to do this.”

Will was quiet for a moment. “You really think so?”

“I know so.” He squeezes Will’s hand. “And you’re crazy if you think your powers are useless. What if one of us gets hurt? I sure as hell don’t know first aid.”

Will gasps melodramatically. “Have I taught you nothing? What have all those hours volunteering in the infirmary been for?”

Nico feels his face get warm and is suddenly aware of how close they are. “Well—”

Will smirks. “Are you telling me you had ulterior motives?”

At least he doesn’t seem upset anymore, Nico thinks.

“Shut up,” he says. But he doesn’t pull his hand away.

They sit together, side-by-side, hands locked together over the seat between them, and fall into a comfortable silence. Nico knows that they’re going to be okay. They’re going to be fine.

Rain drizzles down the windshield, nothing ahead of them but a long, empty road.

Chapter Text

Will’s asleep by the time they reach Kansas, and Nico’s feeling about ready to drift off, too.

Lou Ellen still reads the welcome sign as they pass over the state line, quietly enough that she doesn’t wake him. Nico wonders if she notices how Will’s head has shifted onto his lap or how his arm rests against Will’s shoulder. He certainly does.

The last surviving rays of the sun have succumbed to the rising of the horizon, leaving nothing but sparse headlights of oncoming vehicles to shine through the windshield and show that they really are something more than dark silhouettes. Despite the utter blackness surrounding them, Jules-Albert drives on unflinchingly.

The hum of the road, alongside the muffled buzz emanating from Cecil’s headphones, begins to lull Nico to sleep. He can feel his eyelids growing heavier by the minute when he’s jolted back to consciousness again by Lou Ellen shifting in the seat in front of him.

She turns to face him, resting her wrist on the back of the chair. “Hey. You awake?”

Nico blinks slowly. “Um. Yeah?”

Her mouth twitches, but it’s hard to tell if she’s smiling. “Good. I wanted to ask you something.”

The tone of her voice makes him swallow hard. “Okay.”

She chuckles—that, he can hear. “This isn’t an interrogation. No need to be scared. I’m just curious.”

He reaches up to scratch his neck. “Fine, just get on with it, then.”

A car whizzes past, and for a second, Nico can see the shine in her eyes as they stare into his own.

“How do you feel about him?”

He almost chokes; it turns into a short, dry cough. “Who?”

He doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s raising her eyebrows. “You know exactly who.”

He tries a shrug. “I don’t know what you mean. We’re friends.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says. “But is that it?”

His heart accelerates. He’s thankful for the darkness. He wishes he could melt into it. 

“That’s it,” he echoes.

She shifts again, kneeling backwards in her chair to get a closer look at him as if she thinks she can read his face. “That’s not what I mean. I know that you’re not—right now. But what do you want?”

He doesn’t respond, and after a few seconds, she sighs.

“Okay. Sorry, I’m probably being intrusive. But I won’t tell him, I promise. I just want to know because—”

After she cuts herself off, another odd silence falls between them, but this time, Nico is the one to break it.

“I guess…I wonder sometimes if it could be more,” he murmurs. The words slur together like a measure of music played too quickly.

“More than friends?” she asks, voice softer.

He nods.

“I appreciate you telling me, Nico.” She shifts again, appearing as if she’s returning to her original position, but Nico stops her.

“Hang on,” he hisses. “You didn’t tell me why you wanted to know.”

She freezes, eyes darting between Nico and the seat next to him. “I…probably shouldn’t say this.”

He waits.

“Will…might sometimes wonder the same thing,” she whispers, just as hastily as he did. Then she shakes her head. “That’s it. I’m not saying anything more.” It sounds like it’s more to herself than to Nico.

Nico just stares at her, unblinking.

She visibly winces. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just wanted to—I don’t know. Will’s one of my best friends. I want the best for him. And you—you’re kind of the best thing to ever happen to him.”

The best thing to ever happen to him?

Her words reverberate through his head. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

He stares down at Will’s head, pressed up against his leg, hair sticking in odd directions and hand clenched beside his closed eyes.

“You should get some sleep.”

He glances up again. Lou Ellen is still looking at him. He feels heat rise to his face.

“Yeah. I will.”

His vision has adjusted enough to see her smile briefly—awkwardly—before she turns back around to curl up in the passenger seat, resting her head against the window. He leans his own back against the headrest and tries to shut his eyes, but they don’t close.

***

He does manage to drift in and out of sleep for a few hours before the sun begins rising again, making it impossible to continue, no matter how drowsy he is.

A hand squeezes his shoulder as he stretches his arms. “Hey. We’re in Lebanon.”

He turns to see Will smiling. It isn’t the same smile he uses when he drags Nico out of his cabin at seven in the morning, nor the same smile he wears while calling him a ridiculous nickname. It more closely resembles the expression Nico sees while he stands by Will’s side, ready to help, during a particularly taxing day in the infirmary.

Nico tries his best to smile back.

“Almost,” Cecil says from the backseat. “One more mile.”

Will’s hand is still on his arm when Nico is suddenly struck with an overwhelming sense of death. It’s like a heavy, wet blanket thrown over his head.

“She’s here,” he says. “The oracle. I can sense her spirit.”

But it’s more than that, and he realizes it as soon as he says it. It’s not just a spirit of someone who has died—the spirit itself is dying.

“Can you sense what sort of state she’s in?” Lou Ellen asks. “Or where she’s being kept?”

“She’s fading. Fast.”

Will’s hand has fallen to his forearm, but he doesn’t let go. “So we need to rescue her as soon as possible. But how?”

“I’ve been doing some reading,” Lou Ellen says, holding up her book. “I think we’re going to need some help.”

Will leans forward. “Help? What do you mean?”

She opens the book to a dog-eared page—the Athena cabin would cringe, Nico thinks, with how ancient and fragile the pages appear to be—and lays a finger on it. “It says here that the Oracle was once rescued from Python by a son of Apollo in England, in the eighteenth century. That’s where Olympus and everything was back then, since the U.K. was the dominant world power. Anyway, this chapter is about spirits and stuff, and it uses his quest as an example because he raised souls from the dead in order to lure the Oracle out of Python’s grasp, so to speak.” She glances back at Nico, and he feels the weight of her gaze as she clears her throat. “Specifically, the souls of three women who hosted the spirit of the Oracle of Delphi.”

“So you think we need to do the same thing?” Will asks. His eyes are still on Lou Ellen, even though hers are fixed on Nico.

“I can do it,” he says. “All I need is a Happy Meal.”

She raises an eyebrow. “For…?”

“Not for me,” he mutters. “As a sacrifice. The dead don’t raise themselves for nothing.”

She nods slowly, as if she’s pretending it makes sense. “Right. Of course.”

“Wait, what?” Will turns to him, his hand still annoyingly gripping his wrist. “You can actually, like, raise the dead? I thought that was just a joke Jason made all the time.”

He wants to pull his arm away, he really does, but he doesn’t move it. “Yes, Will, I actually can. And before you start lecturing, no, it doesn’t use nearly as much energy as shadow-travel. I’m not gonna pass out or anything.”

He narrows his eyes. “If you say so. But I’m still going to keep some Gatorade handy. Just in case.”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Right, then,” Cecil says. “We’re in Lebanon.”

***

Turns out, there isn’t a McDonald’s in Lebanon. Or in the town next to it. Or in the town next to that.

After nearly another hour of driving under Cecil’s less-than-perfect direction, they park underneath a pair of golden arches and groan with pain as they step onto the pavement.

“My legs,” Cecil moans. “On the way home, I call shotgun.”

“Suit yourself,” Lou Ellen says. “It’s not any better. Sitting is sitting, no matter where, and I swear to the gods I’m never doing it again in my life.” 

As they walk up to the glass doors, stained yellow with pollen and rimmed with rust, she turns to Nico. “So, is this why you like Micky D’s so much?”

He shoves his shoulder—the uninjured one—against one door and turns around to face her while leaning back, pushing it open. “Not a word,” he mutters.

It somehow feels even more deserted than the Oklahoma restaurant, if that’s possible. The cashier is nowhere to be seen upon first glance, and they’re the only customers. Maybe the only customers that have stepped foot in the place all week.

Nico leads them up to the counter, despite the lack of cashier, and he gets an odd sense that the other three are watching him, observing him like he’s some sort of animal they’ve just released from its cage. Even Will’s expression is one of scrutiny—not disturbed or disgusted, necessarily, but still wary, intrigued. He supposes he might as well be a different species from the rest of them. He can do things with a flick of his wrist of which all other humans can only dream.

He ignores their stares and pulls the black credit card out of his pocket. If anything, at least it’s something familiar, something he can always hold onto. He’s still not exactly sure where the money comes from, or why his dad gave it to him, or if it would cause mass economic inflation if he were to start making some larger purchases, but he’s grateful for it. His dad tries, and that’s not something that can be said about most of the other Olympian parents.

Yet another thing that makes him different.

He can smell the greasy, metallic fumes of canola oil, so he knows someone’s working in here. He taps the edge of the card lightly against the counter, glancing down at it. Seconds later, his eyes catch a flash of movement, but before he can even lift his head, someone behind him gasps. 

Scratch that, two people gasp. Lou Ellen and Will both—he can hear them each distinctly, Lou’s more pleasantly surprised and Will’s more fearfully shocked. It doesn’t take him long to process why.

The smile is just as crooked and cruel as he remembers, but the similarities end there. The red eyes, while still strange and jarring, are less terrifying and more just odd. The hair is still black as the shadows from which it was initially revealed, but it’s no blacker than the polo with the yellow and red logo it brushes. The face is harsh, daunting, perhaps, to anyone who’s never seen it, but it’s infinitely less intimidating when it’s crowned, via velcro, by a black cotton visor.

So Nico doesn’t surprise himself when he bursts into laughter.

It takes a minute to compose himself. He points across the counter with his credit card. “You,” he manages through a grin that must look crazed. “What in the actual hell are you doing here?”
Standing still behind the cash register, he apparently doesn’t find it quite as funny. His expression hardens. “I could ask you the same question, di Angelo.”

Nico feels a tap on his shoulder. When he glances back, Will is staring past him with a frown. “Nico? Who’s this?”

He follows the path of Will’s gaze. “I can hardly believe it, but…” His eyes lock with the red pair. “It’s Cupid.”

Chapter Text

“Cupid? As in—”

Nico nods without looking at Will. “Yep. Actual, god-of-love, son-of-Aphrodite Cupid. It’s great to see you again, Cupid.”

“You two have met?”

“It’s a long story,” Nico mutters.

Cupid grins slyly. “I think you have time to tell it.”

Nico hardens his glare. No way is he going to let this guy win over him again. “I think we’d all be more interested to know exactly how you ended up working at a McDonald’s in Kansas.”

He grimaces. It’s not a good look on him, but then again, neither is the polo and khakis ensemble. “Well, di Angelo, it has a lot to do with your own story.” He clears his throat, and Nico marvels at how awkward and uncomfortable he looks—getting a taste of his own medicine, perhaps. “Turns out Zeus and some of the others thought I treated you…unfairly. I can only imagine which god brought it to their attention. And they thought this—” He gestures to the space around him. “—would be a just punishment. So here I am, flipping burgers and slicing potatoes, for the next fifty years.”

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up. “Fifty?”

Cupid clenches his jaw. “Fifty. Trust me, it might sound like a lot, but in immortal years, it’s really just a minor nuisance.”

That’s not what your face is telling me, he thinks. He finds himself laughing, again, and shakes his head. “You deserve every last second of it.”

The red eyes glare, but they don’t have the same effect as they did back in Croatia, back when they were shrouded in darkness and supported by huge white wings. “What are you doing here, di Angelo?”

He glances back at his friends. Lou Ellen is brazenly staring with a dazed half-smile on her face, Cecil’s eyes are narrowed as he grips the hilt of the dagger attached to his belt, and Will’s are darting back and forth between him and Cupid like he’s watching a strange sport he doesn’t understand.

He turns back to look Cupid dead in the eye. “Make me a Happy Meal.”

Cupid just stares back at him for a moment before huffing a sigh, turning around, and trudging off to the unseen kitchen like he’s a moody fifteen-year-old and making Nico a Happy Meal is the absolute last thing he wants to do.

Nico couldn’t seem to find a single shit to give.

Of course, as soon as he disappears, Will’s hand is on his shoulder, turning him around.

“You alright?” he asks, instead of the question Nico was expecting. His eyes are narrowed and searching his face.

Nico can’t help noticing that their eyes are at about the same level, meaning he must have grown at least an inch or two since the end of the war. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Not gonna lie, he was hot,” he hears Lou Ellen whisper. Cecil mutters something incoherent.

After glancing back at the two of them, Will leads Nico a few feet away and then steps closer. “You don’t have to talk about what happened if you don’t want to. But if you do—”

“It was in Croatia,” he starts, figuring that if the gods already know, why shouldn’t Will? “I was with Jason, retrieving Diocletian’s scepter. Cupid was there, and he—well, he was a lot scarier than he is here.” He glances back toward the cash register before lowering his voice. “It’s a little more complicated, but he basically forced me out of the closet.”

He isn’t sure exactly what he expects to happen when he says that last word, but he knows that no matter what, it’s going to change things. It always will. He just hopes that this time, things will change for the better.

Will doesn’t even take more than a second to respond. “So you’re—”

“Yeah,” Nico says quietly. He spreads his hands. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I guess.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Will’s mouth. “You’re incredible, you know that? I mean, that jerk did something horrible to you, and you had the courage to laugh in his face and tell him to make you a burger.” He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair off of Nico’s forehead, tucking it behind his ear. “Pretty badass.”

Nico’s breath catches in his throat, but once Will’s hand falls back to his side, he manages to speak. “Thanks, I guess.”

Will stares at him a moment longer, an odd, contemplative expression on his face, and he’s not sure what would’ve happened next had someone not cleared their throat.

When he whirls around—like he’s been caught doing something bad, and he isn’t sure why—Lou Ellen’s eyes are darting between the two of them, her smirk growing. Briefly, Nico’s mind flashes back to the previous night’s conversation, but he quickly shoves that thought to the back of his mind when Lou Ellen nods toward the counter, where a white paper bag is waiting.

“Where’d he go?” he asks, and she shrugs.

“Just disappeared into the back again. I kind of think he didn’t want to make any more small talk.”

“Fine,” Nico says. He quickly walks back over to the counter, picks up the bag, and glances inside of it. If the smell of deliciously greasy chicken nuggets and fries didn’t give it away, the familiar red box certainly does. “We’re all set. Let’s go raise some spirits.”

***

After driving another twenty minutes to get back out of town, they pull over on the side of the road next to a particularly barren field.

Not a soul is in sight—not even a tractor—and the only sign of life is an abandoned-looking barn holding itself up about a hundred yards away from the edge of the grass. After Jules-Albert turns off the car, the moon is the only source of light. Nico’s not sure what time it is—midnight, maybe?—but he figures their timing is lucky enough, as it complies with Cecil’s plan for a nighttime attack and also makes it easier to raise the dead.

“Anyone have a shovel?” he asks, and of course none of them do, so instead of taking Cecil’s offer of a used plastic spoon, he decides the barn is his best bet. Lou Ellen and Cecil volunteer to guard Jules and the Happy Meal, and Will insists on following him in his trek through the overgrown grass after muttering that it is “some Children of the Corn-looking shit.”

Though he’s focused on the task at hand—raiding an abandoned farm with the hope of finding usable abandoned farm tools—Nico can’t help the words that flash again and again through his mind like a distress signal.

What do you want?

Despite getting a head start, Will catches up to him. Nico finds out by the brush of Will’s hand against his, which is slight enough to be accidental, and glances sideways at him. In the moonlight, his hair is pale, his skin a ghostly blue, but there’s still a recognizable glint in his gaze—something that, to the unfamiliar eye, might appear to signal that he’s up to no good, but Nico knows it means he’s probably up to too much of it.

He turns his head and smiles, and those eyes are staring straight into his, like he knows exactly what he’s thinking.

Will might sometimes wonder the same thing.

“You sure you can do this?” he asks.

Nico huffs and turns away. “I think I know my own powers, Solace.”

To his surprise, Will’s smile fades. “Yeah, I know. I’m just worried about you, you know, overusing them. Turning all shadowy again. But…you’re probably right.”

He reaches up to rub his forehead. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Will stops in his tracks, causing Nico to do the same. “Hey, I’m just—”

It takes all of Nico’s willpower to not shove a hand over his mouth. “Shut up. I don’t mean all your worrying or whatever. I get it. I just mean the fact that I was making a joke, and you took it all serious, and then you made me feel bad about it. It’s annoying.”

Will just stares at him for a moment, blank-faced, before some godforsaken deity gives him the audacity to smirk. “Ha. You felt bad about it. Maybe you do have a heart in there after all, di Angelo.” He accentuates his words with a poke to Nico’s chest.

“Insufferable,” he mutters, resuming his trudge.

You’re kind of the best thing to ever happen to him.

“For the record,” Will says, still close behind, “I like your jokes.”

Nico glances at him over his shoulder with a look he hopes is pure incredulity.

Soon enough, they reach the doors of the barn—or, rather, what’s left of them. They don’t need to worry about unlocking or unlatching, as the boards are so rotten that they wield a hole large enough to fit a small horse. Gripping the hilt of his sword, Nico ducks through.

Outside the barn may have felt scarily dark, but compared to the inside, it might as well be the end of a fucking rainbow. There are no windows, so the only source of light is the hole, which isn’t on the right side of the building to let in the light of the moon. Even if there is a shovel housed in there, he won’t have much luck finding it.

“Hang on,” Will says. He’s close enough that he must’ve followed him inside. “Give me a sec.”

Nico turns to look at him, and he’s expecting to be met with a dark silhouette, but suddenly he can see Will’s entire face, illuminated by a dim golden glow.

“What did you—” he starts, and then he sees Will’s hand.

It’s held beneath his chin, palm up, and balancing on its surface is a small ball of yellowish light—not fire like Leo can conjure on his fingertips, just pure, unmoving light.

“I won’t be able to keep this up for very long,” Will says. “Let’s get looking.”

Saving his questions for later, Nico starts scouring the walls of the barn, which are decorated with wooden shelves, some of which are bent at odd angles or hanging by a single nail. He spots a ceramic plant pot, a plastic bag that looks like it may have once contained fertilizer, and a rake. Finally, in the furthest corner, he arrives at a shovel, its rusted handle balanced against the wall. He grabs hold of it, praying it isn’t going to disintegrate in his hands, and Will kills the light as they duck through the hole again.

Gripping the shovel, he walks beside Will in silence for a few moments before he can’t resist the urge anymore.

“So…you have light powers?”

Will shrugs like Nico just asked if he was a fan of tennis. “Yeah, sort of. They’re not very good. That’s one of the brightest lights I’ve ever been able to summon. And it—” His sentence is broken by a yawn. “—really drains me. Especially at night, which is, ya know, when you’d need to use it most.”

Nico exhales with a small laugh. “Right. So how come you didn’t tell me? Does anyone else know?”

Will hums. “Kayla and Austin. Lou and Cecil. Chiron. Nobody else. According to Chiron, it’s really rare, and it can get dangerous and out of control if you try too hard to practice and build it up. Like, I should just save it for emergencies. That’s basically all he told me.”

“Still, it’s pretty cool.” It takes all of the courage he can muster, but he gently elbows Will with his free arm. “And it gives us something in common.”

Will glances sideways at him, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Nico smirks. “Rare powers no one else has. Powers that are super useful but make us fall asleep if we go overboard.” He can’t keep pretending not to notice how Will is walking even closer to him, practically leaning against him now. He reaches out to steady him with his free hand. “Are you gonna be alright? Do you need to take a nap when we get back?”

Will shakes his head and attempts to straighten (Nico wonders if that’s even possible—yeah, he isn’t that dense), but he stays close enough that their shoulders brush. “Nah. I’ll be fine. Just gotta sit down for a minute.”

It’s good timing, as they’ve just come into shouting range of Lou Ellen and Cecil. Nico wastes no time explaining the situation to them before beckoning Cecil to follow him with the Happy Meal. After tapping around the grass in a few spots, he picks an area that should be easy enough to dig up.

And so he starts to dig.

He can feel the three pairs of eyes on him as he works, but he keeps his head down, focused on the shovel, which shines like silver in the moonlight despite its rust. He almost laughs aloud thinking of the questions they must be dying to ask—does he do this often, raising the dead? Does he always use Happy Meals? Has he ever done it in the middle of Kansas with a stolen shovel? He doesn’t say anything, though.

Eventually, the hole is deep enough, and Nico lays the shovel in the dirt, holding out a hand in Cecil’s direction. He quickly hands off the Happy Meal box as if it’s a ticking time bomb.

After lowering the box into the hole, Nico holds his hands out over it, palms down, and begins muttering the necessary prayers. It’s been a while since he’s recited them, but he’s pretty sure they’ll never fade from his memory.

As discussed with Lou Ellen, he calls upon the souls of three women who previously hosted the Oracle of Delphi. They agreed that the most recent hosts would make communication a bit easier, and they Iris-messaged Annabeth during their drive to McDonald’s to ask for their names.

“You want the names of the three most recent possessors of the oracle?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

Nico nodded, though he knew it wasn’t easy for her to see him in such dim lighting. “Yeah. Your cabin must have kept some kind of record, right?”

After a second, she nodded. “I’m pretty sure. Give me one minute.”

And one minute was all it took. 

Once Nico finishes his prayers, he takes a step back. The ground in front of him begins to shimmer, and the Happy Meal fades into the shadows.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Cecil asks. “Uh, ‘cause I’m not going back to that McDonald’s again.”

Nico just holds up a hand, hoping he gets the memo. Summoning souls is a delicate process; he doesn’t want to screw it up.

A moment later, the white shimmery mist emanating from the ground starts forming itself into more solid-looking shapes, growing taller and taller, until three distinct figures stand in front of them—three translucent women, the middle one instantly recognizable despite how her face is bluish and distorted.

Someone murmurs something behind him, but Nico isn’t sure who or what. He’s fixated on the spirit in front of him, the ghostly form of a woman he last saw as a rotting corpse in an attic—but not long before that, as a young girl in a Venetian hotel, attempting to convince a stubborn god to save his wife and children.

“Nico di Angelo,” the ghost says, voice full of familiarity but lacking all compassion. “It’s been a few years.”

A few, Nico thinks, more like seventy.

Her colorless eyes bore into his. “How has your father been since he cursed me?”

Chapter Text

How many more gods and spirits from my past are going to show up today? Nico wonders.

The ghost on her right side, a woman with curly, light-colored hair adorned by a flapper-style headband glances him up and down. “This is the son of Hades?”

Nico coughs. “Present.”

The third ghost, a girl who could only be described as a stereotypical southern belle, turns up her nose. “Rather unimpressive, if you ask me.”

Flapper Lady folds one arm over her sequined dress and rests her other hand under her chin. “I don’t know, he’s kind of cute.”

Suddenly, Nico feels a hand on his shoulder. Will gently pulls him back, stepping forward himself. “Excuse me, ladies, but we’ve got a bit of a situation. The spirit of Delphi is currently being held hostage by Python, and we’ve been informed that rescuing it may require your assistance.”

Nico immediately notices a shift in Will’s voice—his accent, really, as he usually speaks with this sort of respectful determination, but the slight drawl of the vowels and twang at the end of each word is new. He also swears he hears Lou Ellen snort.

Southern Belle turns to him with narrowed eyes, though she’s started twirling a lock of her hair between two white-gloved fingers. “And why should we listen to you?”

Will clears his throat. “I’m a son of Apollo. It’s my duty to rescue Delphi, and I should think that you all would feel the same way. So let’s not let things that happened in the past—” He looks pointedly at the ghost in the middle. “—get in the way of our goal.”

The woman stares him down. “His father—”

Will nods. “Yes, Hades cursed you. I know. But that was Nico’s father, not Nico. I think all of our ancestors have done things we aren’t proud of.” He glances between the three women and then back at Nico. “And we have to acknowledge them, but then we live our lives based on the present. We can’t redo the past, and we shouldn’t blame someone for something that was done by their godly parent.”

Nico’s half-expecting thunder to rumble in the distance at Will’s bold words, but the Kansas cornfield might never have been more silent.

“So you’d like us to help you,” the oracle finally says. “I think I know of a way we can.”

“Good,” Will says, grinning pleasantly. “Let’s hear it.”

***

“Boy, you really pulled out the big guns, huh?”

Will shoots Lou Ellen a glare. “Shut up. At least it helped.”

“What are we talking about?” Nico asks.

After listening to the advice of the three former oracles, they’ve devised as much of a plan as they possibly could. The southern woman, in particular, told a helpful story of a time when the spirit of Delphi had been (much to her embarrassment) captured by the god Artemis due to a minor disagreement between her and Apollo. A nineteenth-century demigod rescued it.

“The southern accent,” Cecil says, in a horrible imitation. “Will may not have told you yet, but it’s how he gets grandmas and teenage girls alike to do his bidding. Right, Lou?”

Lou Ellen hums affirmingly, and Will covers his face with his forearm. “Seriously, shut up,” he groans.

At Cecil’s suggestion, they’re walking, not driving, down the dark and deserted road. Nico agrees that it’s more inconspicuous and stealthy, and it also allows him to more accurately pinpoint the position of Delphi’s spirit.

They’re getting very close. He can feel it. In fact—

“Wait,” he says. Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil stop moving and turn back to look at him. “It’s right around here. I can sense it.”

“Okay,” Will says, glancing around at the fields that surround them. His eyes land on a small patch of trees off to Nico’s right. “So we should—”

He’s interrupted by a rustling sound. Nico’s right hand immediately flies to the hilt of his sword, and, for some reason, his other arm reaches out in front of Will’s chest. A second later, a group of ten or twelve crows fly out from the trees, wings beating noisily. He watches them, tracking their movement until they disappear into the night sky.

It isn’t until he feels Will’s chest rising and falling against his elbow that he drops his arm.

“Um. Okay,” Will whispers. “So, was that nothing, or…?”

“He’s hiding in there,” Nico says. “He has to be.”

At an unspoken agreement, Nico leads the four of them toward the trees, sword brandished like a shield. Will is by his left shoulder, gripping the hilt of his own dagger, and Nico feels something hard land in his stomach at the thought of Will having to actually use it. He recalls what Cecil said back at camp. You need someone who can do the killing for you.

He will do it. He’ll kill Python, whatever it takes. He’s not going to let anything lay a finger on Will.

They reach the edge of the woods—only it’s not much of a woods at all, as Nico can already see beyond the patch of trees. They move quickly through until they emerge on the other side.

“Careful,” Lou Ellen says. “The Mist is strong here. Something’s off about this place.”

“What do you mean?” Nico asks. But he can see it before she responds.

They’re standing in a clearing, surrounded by a ring of pines, but it’s not empty. In the center stands a trapezoidal stone monument, above which an American flag hangs limp in the motionless air.

“It says The Geographical Center of the Contiguous United States,” Cecil reads. “The Axis Mundi.”

But Nico isn’t focused on the engraving. He’s staring at the stone itself, which, when he squints, seems to shimmer.

Behind him, Lou Ellen gasps. “Scales.”

“Huh?” Cecil asks, but before Lou Ellen can give him an answer, she screams.

“Back to the trees!”

Nico hardly has time to catch a glimpse of what she sees before he’s turning and running, grabbing Will by the wrist, but he does. Scales—she’s right. The shimmering has become something much more lifelike. Something solid. And huge. And moving.

Once his back is against a tree, he looks over his shoulder.

It’s fairly normal-looking as snakes go, except for its size. Its body is more than twice as thick as Nico’s. The largest section is coiled around the base of the monument, and now that he’s focused on it, it no longer flickers in and out of visibility. His eyes trace the winding neck, which wraps around the flagpole and grows slightly thinner toward the top, where, about thirty feet in the air, it holds up a scaly head. The mouth is closed, but a tongue darts out and in again in their direction.

Nico hears a gasp from beside him and turns. Will is looking back over his own shoulder, eyes wide.

“Hey,” Nico says, tugging on his wrist until Will turns to him. In the moonlight, his face is gaunt, striped with odd shadows. “We can do this. It’s going to be alright.”

Will’s chest rises and falls. “What am I going to do?”

Nico stares him dead in the eye, unblinking, and moves his hand to squeeze Will’s. “You’re not going to leave my side. Got it?”

After a second, Will nods, swallowing visibly. “Got it.”

Nico then turns to his left. A few feet away, Lou Ellen and Cecil are hiding behind another tree. He meets Lou Ellen’s gaze, and with a nod, they set their plan into motion.

Chapter Text

Four half-bloods will travel south.

While Nico flanks the monster from the left side, Lou Ellen mirrors him on the right—in a figurative and literal sense, as she also manipulates the mist in a way that causes Python to see double images of each of them, giving him a fifty-fifty chance of attacking a real demigod.

Meanwhile, Cecil makes a wide circle back into the trees to make a surprise jump from the back. They need the monument surrounded on all sides before the serpent has time to unwind himself from around the flagpole.

He focuses on Lou Ellen first, uncurling the top of his neck in order to lash downwards toward her, fangs snapping shut, but he can’t quite reach the ground, and Lou ducks out of the way—but not before chucking a throwing knife, which bounces off his scales just above his eye.

“Impenetrable,” Nico mutters as he watches her curse. “Just like I thought.”

Just as the three ghosts told him. There was only going to be one chink in the snake’s armor.

To rescue me from the serpent’s mouth.

It wasn’t just metaphorical. That had to be it. And with his Stygian iron…

Python uncoils another ring of his neck, and this time, he turns to face Nico.

Nico briefly touches Will’s shoulder. “Get an arrow nocked.”

“On it.”

Next to him, Will taps two fingers twice against his leather bracelet—the one that, up until a few minutes ago, Nico thought he just wore as an everyday accessory. Turns out, it’s a gift from his father, and it expands into a full-size bow and quiver.

Will would tell you he’s a terrible shot, but Nico knows he’s good enough to make this one. He hoists the quiver over his shoulder, draws out a sleek steel arrow with his middle and index fingers, and nocks it against the bowstring.

“Ready,” he affirms.

“Good,” Nico says. “Now all we need is a chance.”

Their chance comes more quickly than expected. Python’s yellow eyes dart back and forth between them for a split second, and then, as if he has decided he’s craving Italian today, Nico is faced with his angry pink throat.

“Nico!” he hears Will shout, but it’s like he’s underwater. His ears are rushing with adrenaline. Just as the white fangs are inches from his shoulders, he is yanked out from underneath the shadow, and Python’s face smashes into the ground, jaw agape in his direction.

Nico stares, just as stunned as the snake is, and barely manages to register the searing pain in his back.

“Nico!” It’s Will again, right behind him, and it shakes him back to his senses. He tries to whirl around, but Will’s hands stop him.

“No,” he says, and it’s that stern doctor voice Nico grew to hate—or love, but he’d never admit that. “Your back, you—the fang. Just stay still for a second, here—”

As soon as he feels Will’s warm hands press between his shoulder blades, he jumps away and turns to face him. “Not now, Will, godsdammit, he’s not gonna be on the ground for much—”

“Hey!” It’s Cecil, running towards them, followed close behind by Lou Ellen. “Are you guys alright? What happened?”

“Nico’s hurt,” Will starts, at the same time as Nico raises a hand for Cecil and Lou to stay back. They stop in their tracks on the other side of Python’s head, which Nico hurriedly approaches.

The yellow eye that’s visible blinks once, and then Nico notices his tail, still coiled around the monument, twitch. He’s dazed, but he’s going to recover. Soon.

He raises his sword.

But it’s too late.

Python picks up his head, rearing back to his previous position—poised thirty feet in the air, ready for a second strike.

Fortunately, Lou Ellen has the sensibility to shout. “Will! Get ready, you’ve gotta do it now!”

He hears Will curse under his breath, but he trusts that he’s following instructions.

Nico knows what he has to do—stand right where he is, unmoving. Staring back up at Python’s closed jaw, his slitted tongue.

“Come on,” he mutters. “Let’s get this over with.”

And three seconds later, he bares his fangs again.

This time, however, just as his head is plummeting toward Nico’s, a golden arrow, glinting briefly as it catches the moonlight, lodges itself in the roof of his mouth. Python lets out a shuddering groan, writhing like he’s been caught in a tornado, and then falls with a thud to the ground, causing Cecil to let out a yelp.

“Careful,” Nico warns, already making his way over. “It’s not dead yet. And the spirit of Delphi is still trapped inside.”

Once he’s standing within stabbing distance, he raises his sword—again—and this time doesn’t hesitate before plunging it into the flesh of Python’s mouth, right next to Will’s arrow.

He’s not expecting the way it jerks his sword arm and shoulder like he’s been punched, which doesn’t do much to help his steadily growing pain, but he isn’t surprised by the green glow that emits from the base of the stab wound and travels up the blade. Once it reaches the hilt, it disappears in a bright flash.

After a second, a groan rumbles from the snake, and its tail twitches across the green, rustling the tall grass.

Suddenly, Nico realizes what needs to be done.

He looks over his shoulder. Will is staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Well, unreadable to the average person, maybe. Nico knows what he’s feeling.

“Will.”

Will’s eyes don’t travel to his. By the light of the moon, Nico can see that they are focused solely on the snake.

“Will. You have to let it go.”

Nico does not know exactly how Will’s healing powers work. But he knows that with a touch of his hand, he can take the pain away. He’s witnessed him do it even for the demigods in the absolute worst shape. Sometimes, he can’t save anyone, but he can at least allow them to die peacefully. Painlessly.

Three brave souls accompanied by death.

He still isn’t sure quite how to interpret that line, but he has a hunch about the next one.

The son of Apollo draws his final breath.

Without meeting his eyes, an understanding passes between them. Will steps forward, up to his side, and kneels down in the grass. He lays his bow down and extends his hands, placing them onto scales that glint green in the moonlight.

“Uh, Will?” Cecil asks, his voice an octave higher than usual. “What are you doing?”

Will doesn’t respond, and Nico gives him a glare that should shut him up for a minute. His hands resting beside Python’s glassy, unmoving eye, Will bows his head and begins murmuring. The words are inaudible to Nico, but he can tell he’s speaking Ancient Greek.

Gradually, Will’s hands begin to glow, not dissimilar to how they looked in the barn when they searched for the shovel. Lou Ellen gasps, but she’s wise enough not to interrupt.

A moment later, Python’s scaly eyelid slowly lowers, and all twitching of his tail ceases.

Nico would announce to the group what has happened, but he figures it’s obvious enough. Will stands, takes a step back, and after a second, the snake disintegrates into a long, narrow mound of pale dust.

Nico returns his sword to its sheath and takes one step toward Will before he’s hit with an immense wave of dizziness. Lou Ellen and Cecil notice, as they rush over to him, and Will whirls around. Despite the black spots in his vision, he can see that Will is the one who catches him before he face-plants in the grass.

“Easy, there, Death Boy,” he mutters, lowering him steadily to the ground, one hand on his back and one on his shoulder. “You’re bleeding out.” Nico vaguely registers him pointing off into the woods for a second before returning his hand to his arm. “Cecil, the bandages, my bag is behind that tree—”

“On it,” Cecil says, hurrying off. Meanwhile, Lou Ellen falls to her knees on Nico’s other side, helping to keep him in an upright position while Will shifts both his hands to the area between Nico’s shoulder blades.

For a second, he lets out an embarrassing yelp. He didn’t realize until now how deep the wound is—and since it’s from Python’s fang, who knows what kinds of infected it could be—

“Shh,” Will murmurs. Nico didn’t even register that he was muttering, but he stops. The pain in his back slowly fades into a burning sensation, which gradually changes to a more pleasant warmth. And all the while, he cranes his neck to stare at Will, whose smile is illuminated by the moon.

Nico isn’t sure how long he sits there. A few minutes later, after Cecil returns, his shirt is cut off—it’s already been torn beyond saving, anyway, so he doesn’t mind—ointment is applied, and gauze bandages are taped. Will then sits beside him to support him since he can’t lay down, and while he’s vaguely aware of Lou Ellen and Cecil leaving to get food from the car, he’s very much cognizant of Will’s arm around his waist.

They sit in silence as Nico’s pain subsides to a faint throbbing sensation—something he can consign to the back of his mind while he focuses on more important things. Like Will’s knee touching his, for instance. Or the orange light seeping through the trees that tells him the sun is about to rise.

“Gods, I’m exhausted,” Will says with a heavy sigh.

Nico groans and hangs his head. “Yeah.”

“We did it, though. I can’t believe it’s over.”

He lifts his head again and looks up. The hints of sunlight catch Will’s messy hair, making it shine like fire. “Are you…alright?”

It takes him a second, but he nods, meeting Nico’s eyes. “Yeah. I am. I didn’t think I could…you know, but I did it. And I’m glad I did.”

“The prophecy,” Nico says. “The son of Apollo draws his final breath. It wasn’t about you—well, I guess it was, but you didn’t die.”

Will laughs. “You’re right. I didn’t. I drew the final breath out of Python.” Then he frowns, and Nico finds himself wishing there was something he could do to wipe it away. He might have a few ideas.

“You’re more powerful than you think,” he says instead. “With that, and with the glow-y hands, and everything. You better make sure you don’t overdo it.”

Will raises an eyebrow. “Hey. You’re the one who was reckless and got himself injured today, mister.”

Nico sighs, and because he doesn’t feel like arguing anymore, he drops his head onto Will’s shoulder.

Will laughs a little, and a second later Nico feels something press gently into the side of his head.

Wait. Not just something.

He lifts his head. “Did you just—”

Will’s face is flushed. “Sorry.”

“But you—”

“Yeah.”

He searches Will’s eyes and isn’t sure of what he finds. “Okay. Um. That’s…cool.”

Will’s face splits into a grin. “Cool? I give you a kiss, and you say it’s cool?”

Nico really wants to slap him. But even more than that, he wants to shut him up.

So he does.

Will responds first with a muffled noise of surprise, then with an audible sigh, and then with a smile Nico can feel against his lips.

The only thought his racing mind has room for is I can’t believe I’m doing this I can’t believe I’m doing this I can’t—

All too quickly, it’s over. Will pulls inches away, and with one arm still around him, he uses his other hand to ruffle Nico’s hair. He’s grinning like a fool. “Okay. Hi.”

“Idiot,” Nico mumbles.

He might’ve gone back for seconds had the grass behind them not rustled with loud footsteps—too loud, almost, like they really wanted to alert Nico and Will of their presence. He sits up straighter (ha-ha, not funny) and looks over his shoulder.

Cecil and Lou Ellen are both holding lunch boxes and wearing shit-eating grins. Nico groans and rubs his head with his hand.

“Look,” Cecil starts, traipsing up to them, “I’m not gonna pretend I didn’t just see what I just saw, but we don’t have to talk about it right now, ‘cause I know we’re all starving.”

“Key word right now,” Lou adds with a wink.

“Thanks, guys,” Will says, as if they’re in the midst of the most normal conversation in the world.

But it could be normal, Nico supposes. Maybe soon, at least. What really is normal for a demigod, after all?

Chapter Text

It isn’t until they’re all sitting in the car again that they realize just how long it’s going to take to get back to camp.

“Twenty-three hours?”

Cecil hums in affirmation from the back seat. Nico, Will, and Lou Ellen collectively groan.

“Hey, we could get back in about two seconds if somebody would just let Nico shadow-travel,” he shoots back.

Will glares over his shoulder before wrapping an arm around Nico and holding on tight. “He’s injured!”

“I’m fine, Will.”

Will looks at him in horror. “No, you’re not!”

Nico raises his eyebrows and covers his ears with his hands. “Take it down about three octaves, maybe? Only dogs are going to hear that.”

Will withdraws toward the window and folds his arms with a hmph.

They don’t make it out of Kansas before he’s back against Nico’s side, resting his head on his shoulder.

***

Nico wakes up to Lou Ellen pointing out a Welcome to Illinois sign.

He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep. When he comes to his senses, however, he’s not surprised that he did—after all, he’s pressed up against Will, who’s carding his fingers through his hair and massaging knots out of his neck. The guy might as well be a hypnotist.

The following half hour or so is relatively peaceful—Lou Ellen and Will start playing some ridiculous license plate game, but they keep their voices low, and Cecil snores quietly.

Nico pretends to sleep, too, but his occasional yawn and peek out the window probably give him away. Will, fortunately, doesn’t seem to care, and keeps rubbing his weary shoulders. Nico isn’t entirely sure if he’s using his powers or not, but either way, it works like magic. He can feel not only the tension but also the darkness, all of the residual shadows, seep out of his muscles.

It’s when they hit a pothole that sends Cecil into a spluttering coughing fit that things start to go awry.

A few minutes after the coughing dies down, Nico starts to hear faint music. He wonders first if Lou Ellen has managed to work the radio, which he’s never bothered trying to fiddle with himself, before realizing it’s coming from behind.

“Cecil,” he’s about to say, but Will gets to it before him. “I swear to the gods—”

“Almost heaven,” Cecil sings. “West Virginia…Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River…”

If possible, it’s even more horridly off-key than the last time. Will turns to Nico, face full of exasperation, but Nico just shrugs.

“You know what I’m going to say.”

Will sighs. “I know, I know, but you can’t—”

“Will,” he says, folding his arms. “I will spend however many goddamn days in the infirmary you want, but I am not sitting in this car for another minute.”

After swallowing visibly, a hint of a smile appears on Will’s face. Yeah, he’s nervous, Nico can tell, but he knows that it’s going to be okay.

He glances toward the driver’s seat before turning back to Nico with a full grin. “Jules-Albert, pull over.”

***

“Dude, I do not know how you do that every day.” 

Cecil then groans, leaning against the porch of the Big House with a hand on his forehead. Will, who’s already sitting down on the steps, clutching his stomach, shoots him a glare.

“That’s because he doesn’t do it every day.” He turns his glare to Nico. “Not anymore.”

Nico raises his hands in surrender while keeping an eye on Lou Ellen, who seems to have fared a lot better than the others. She shakes out her wrists—Nico wouldn’t be surprised if they’re sore from Cecil’s viselike grip—but otherwise seems okay.

“Must be a child of Hecate thing,” he says to her. “Or else they’re just losers.”

“I’m so dizzy,” Cecil moans. “And hungry.”

“That makes zero sense,” Lou Ellen says, but she sits down beside him anyway. 

Nico stands awkwardly in front of the three of them, unsure of what to do next. He feels a little bad for how pale Will looks, but he knows it’s only temporary, so he’s also a little amused.

A moment later, Will picks his head up from his hands, and he’s still glaring, but it’s nowhere near as strong. Nico walks over and offers a hand, keeping the other tucked into his pocket. Will takes it, but he doesn’t stand. Instead, he intertwines their fingers, fitting his palm against Nico’s, and stares at it in stern concentration.

“What are you doing?” Nico asks, even though he knows the answer.

Seconds later, Will loosens his grip and looks up at him with a frown. “You’re fine.”

“You don’t look too happy about that.”

Will huffs. “No. Idiot. I was worried. And I’m still mad at you, because it was a really far jump.”

“It wasn’t that—”

Cecil groans again. “Hey, could you have your little lover’s spat somewhere else? I’m still seeing stars over here. And birds. There are definitely birds—”

Fortunately, he is interrupted.

“Hey!” Nico drops Will’s hand and glances in the direction of the voice, and his eyes land on a familiar figure in an oversize blue sweatshirt jogging up to them. When she gets closer, he can see that it says Goode High in gold lettering, matching the color of her bobbing ponytail.

She skids to a stop in front of them. “Wow. I’m so glad you guys are back. How come you didn’t IM?”

Lou Ellen shoots Cecil a look. “Somebody spent the rest of our drachmas on three packages of Oreos.”

“To be fair, I thought we were going to be driving for two more days.”

Annabeth frowns. “Why didn’t you use mortal money? And how?”

“Somebody spent all of that on a tub of ice cream. Which melted.”

Cecil shoves Lou Ellen’s shoulder with his own. “Hey, you were the one who manipulated the drachmas to look like quarters.”

Will raises his hands. “Nico and I had no part in any of this. We wanted to message you as soon as we knew we were safely on the road again.”

Annabeth folds her arms. “Well, alright. Anyway, tell me everything.”

They recount the details of their journey, and any embarrassing details one of them attempts to leave out are quickly filled in by another. When they reach the end of the story, the death of Python, Will frowns.

“There’s still a part of the prophecy I don’t understand,” he says. “Three brave souls, accompanied by death. I thought at first that it went with the last line, that—you know. I was going to die. But I didn’t, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Nico mutters.

Will kicks his ankle. “Then I thought maybe it was Nico. Us three were the souls, and he was death. But that didn’t really make sense, either, ‘cause Nico is a person, too, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoes again.

Will shoves him slightly harder this time. “So, what do you think it means?”

Annabeth ponders this for a moment, her eyes directed toward something distant, as if she can see numbers and patterns floating in the air. Eventually, they return to Will. “It’s the spirits. The souls Nico rose from the dead. They were brave—I mean, they were hosts of the Oracle, that takes some serious guts. And 'accompanied by death’ just means they were, well, dead.”

“Oh,” Will says with a sigh. “I get it now. Thanks.”

Nico stares at him. At the look in his eyes, the faint smile on his face. “Were you still—”

“Worried?” he finishes, turning to look up at him. His mouth twitches. “A bit, to be honest. It just felt…incomplete. But now we’ve got closure.” He turns back to Annabeth. “Thank you.”

She smiles. “Of course. Prophecies can be a real pain in the ass. But don’t tell your dad I said that.” She winks and then puts her hands on her hips. “Well, there’s going to be a campfire tonight, and my cabin is in charge of organizing the festivities. I’d better get going. But I’ll see you all there?”

Cecil and Lou Ellen nod, and she takes that for an answer. After she walks away, Nico takes a few steps back from the Big House, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. He doesn’t look up until he hears Will’s voice.

“Is that your way of trying to tell me you want to talk alone?”

Nico glances back at Lou Ellen and Cecil, still sitting on the porch. They’re out of earshot, probably, and focused on annoying the shit out of each other. So he takes Will’s hand.

“Maybe.”

Will chuckles and intertwines their fingers, but it’s not like the last time. It’s casual, gentle, relaxed. But there’s a tension there all the same, and Nico knows who has to resolve it.

“Will you go with me to the campfire tonight?” he asks. It comes out all in one breath, like an exhale he’s been holding in. “We were supposed to go together, the night, you know, all this happened.” He gestures vaguely with his free hand. “So can we have a second go at it?”

Will smiles, and it’s just like sunlight. Warm, necessary, and a reassurance that no matter what, the world will keep spinning. “Of course.”

It will, Nico decides.