Chapter Text
it took three days for nico to wake up.
before the son of hades had even opened his eyes, leo had been lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, the cold december breeze filtering through the inched open window from across the room. midnight had set upon the world outside, the stars barely visible and the moon already at its peak, out of his vision by yards. the white linen of the drapes flowed with the currents of wind, obscuring a pure view outside the hulking warship. it was surreal. for it to be winter when his last memories of the surface was the heat that caused beads of sweat to roll down temples and ice cold beverages to be placed atop foreheads. long before, the cold of winter would have been but a thought in the back of leo’s head — in the present, he shivered almost violently beneath the bedsheets, bunched around his body as he curled up on himself, fragile and narrow arms wrapping around his own torso to find any semblance of warmth.
insomnia. the attacks would hit frequently, either out of purpose when he stayed up into the meek hours of night to finish projects with no deadline or of sudden circumstances, waiting for sleep to claim him in this restless state. it would always feel horrible, to beg for peace when hypnos would not bat an eye. yet now, as he stares at the floorboards over his head and memorizes each cabinet by name — bandages, ambrosia, nectar, herbs — the insomnia was much, much worse. his limbs were heavy weights, sinking him deeper into the abyss of the bed, confined with a parched throat and throbbing body. he was sick, ill with an ailment none could name but one that hurt like hell, an ache he could not place but one he knew he would never escape from. even a single gesture or movement would cause a cataract of agony, sore down to the brittle bones nested beneath fragile muscles. he wanted nothing more than to run away, to break free from the shackles holding him in place in the earth and causing nothing but a seething pain. yet he couldn’t. all he could do was stare at the ceiling, motionless, wondering when this would finally be over. he almost yearned to let the earth reclaim him, to fall asleep and never awake to the dread. yet he didn’t.
hours before he had been struck with this sleepless tragedy, his friends had visited him to wish him goodnight. it could become a custom, leo thinks, as they visit him for another night before heading back up to their cabins. they had been by his side the entire endeavor since he had awoken from his coma, offering him solace while his body trembled from the avalanche of change that had set upon him, regarding him of their adventures while he listened intently, focusing on them and not on the ache. coach hedge had been convinced to take a break for the night, exhausted from nursing nico and leo back to health since they came back from the doors.
first to leave was reyna, parting the overgrown curls hanging around his face and pecking his forehead softly, smiling a melancholy upturn of lips. reyna allowed smiles rarely, a stoic disposition she held with an iron fist and a will of gold. her smile was so foreign to his eyes, her face barely recognizable in his fractured memory, yet they held such a familiar aura that he would have cried if the voidness of his tear ducts was not present. next was frank, shifting from the form of a bulldog that leo had been petting and giving him a final hug. in spite of the way he held himself, not anymore the awkward and shy boy before but a natural leader with scars of crimson, the hug revealed everything, fluffy arms gentle with his unsteady physique. “don’t run off anywhere,” frank had joked off-handedly. he left to his room, a cloth of stars hanging from his belt and holding nothing but his own fate in its wooden structure. then there was jason. his lip scar, previously so tiny, had grown into lightning streaks across his cheek, something so him yet not. he had given leo a lasting hug as well, one of many they shared with each other, but this one the sweetest. leo was unable to reciprocate and jason did not care, allowing him a small smile before leaving to rest for the night. second to last was piper, his best friend since the wilderness school, a sister he could trust. she nuzzled her nose into his cheek, whispering her goodnights. all of them had been so hesitant to leave, but piper was the one who near outright refused to leave. her fingers remained in touch with leo’s, dragging out the contact until she was at the exit, her remaining eye offering him but a honey gaze. the other one, her right, was covered with a strapless patch, pale frost gathering at the edges.
the last to leave had been hazel. she was sitting in a chair by leo’s bedside and holding leo’s surviving hand within her own. her fingertips were scarred to the knuckle, aurelian blood flowing in the veins of her wrists. her ringlets fell to her waist, grown to its longest streak, and her eyelids drooped dangerously. she gave a little yawn, like a baby animal that leo would have laughed at if he felt any strength to do so. “do you think you can manage yourself tonight?” she asked. “i don’t think any of us can stay awake. it’s been a long day.”
leo nodded. “i’ll be okay.” jesus, was that his voice? it was like a broken record, hoarse and scratchy akin to nails on a chalkboard. he had been unable to speak the day before or in the hours of morning, going completely nonverbal from the lack of vocal cord use and the weakness in himself, talking such a weight he could not bear. he had become too used to the spires that towered overhead like the looming promise of death, the hellfire that sputtered out of geysers and the rivers echoing with wailing souls as they drifted through their banks. he hated this. he hated being reduced to such a weak and sickly creature, a malnutritioned orphan in the pipelines of a sewer beneath a city above. his voice had been stolen, taken down in those wretched depths that knew no concept of mercy. he hated this.
hazel placed a tiny kiss on his cheek, gentle and familial and helping him forget just how frail he felt. she was the youngest of the seven, so young when she had been chosen to bear the weight of gods to defeat the mother of earth — now she had grown into someone more powerful, one with the mist at her fingertips and her scythe raised high as she challenged immortals in spite of fear.
“tell me when nico wakes up?” she asked. a simple question.
a rock formed in leo’s throat. “i will.”
she left. leo attempted to fall asleep once the echo of her footsteps had faded away, to no avail. his hearing was sensitive to the tiniest of sounds — from the creaking of steps above deck to the roaring waters of the ocean surrounding the argo, even a miniscule drop of a pin deafening to his amplified ears. he could hear the insects crawling beneath the floorboards, the wind whispering as they slipped through the crack of the window, the voice of tartarus whose words were as vivid as if he were inside of him — no one will ever remember you . he had branded the phrase into leo’s psyche, a cacophony of everything morbid, so grotesque and wrong, cockroaches scattering in pipes and vents. he could see the ghosts across the room with talons sharpened and red glares furious, feel the claws dragging tantalizingly down his chest as if slowly finding a route to tear him open. this was the price he had to pay for opening that cookie, the retribution for even feeling a morsel of pride.
then he looks to his left, another bed across from him and separated by a small mahogany table that holds hellbringer as a necklace, the cross glinting beside his camp beads, a tiny teardrop of the moon in the center. there is an empty glass that used to hold nectar, leo’s only easy source of nutrition. tartarus had fucked up his digestion system. leo had repeatedly thrown up after barely eating solid food, including ambrosia. even the honey nectar was bittersweet. yet leo could not care for the contents on the table — all that matters in that moment is the still body on that forsaken bed, scarred chest rising and falling the only evidence that he had not yet lost his harness. his eyes are closed and his mouth is pressed into thin lines, and the blankets have strewn around his feet. nico, asleep. the sight hurts. it’s damasen’s hut once more, nico lying unconscious by his side and bearing the burden of more than he ever deserved. leo chokes every time his gaze drifts back to his comatose body. wake up , he wanted to speaking despite the imagined words meaning nothing to his deaf ears. please, just wake up. i need you.
leo sighs, his body battling a force that came not from the outside from within himself, the scars decorating his body in artworks of agony and misery tearing him apart gradually until there would be nothing left. no matter the separation of his molecules or the throbbing of a headache or the void in himself from a limb long lost, leo thought the loneliness was the thing that was determined to kill him. a relentless, piercing force that came from nowhere yet ricocheted in leo’s mind, the fear that he would be left alone once more. leo hated being alone. he hated how this isolation caused everything to ache, a sickness worse than his fucked immune system or his respiration issues. the loneliness was the thing that was going to be at victory in the end, a battle leo had fought and lost time and time again.
then he hears something. a voice, raspy and hoarse, unused for decades and having the essence of charred flesh. yet suddenly leo’s eyes fling open at the familiarity, the mere recollection of who was next to him, of who he cared about more than everything else in the world—
“ leo? ”
leo’s head spins toward his left. his eyes meet his. a dark, sincere obsidian driving themselves into leo’s own with knives of corduroy and a glare of peaceful ocean, set apart by a ragged scar that cut his facade into a perfect half. leo’s breath that had been caught in his throat releases, his body going slack once he recognizes the boy that was now awake, a fresh t-shirt that was no longer covered in smog and his skin washed from the grime and blood that had plagued him since the fall. he’s looking at leo, something in those irises that mellows leo out, the fear and anxiety and crippling loneliness fading to a dull hum in a background he was not aware of. nothing else — not the ache, not the loss — mattered. nico was awake.
“hey, death breath,” leo whispered, desperately forcing the shakiness from his tone. he would not break down like this. “nice nap?”
“leo.” it’s not a question but a small exhale, leo’s name on nico’s lips that he had been missing for eternity. leo feels his body warm with a heat not from himself but from another, forgetting the chill creeping across the nape of his neck. nico’s awake. leo had been scared, so utterly terrified of the idea that nico would never wake, that he’d be lost to a world he would never get a chance to see. leo had to listen to nico’s heartbreak in the mansion of night, watch him strangle a miserable goddess as his mind snapped to an unbelievable degree, beg for nico to come back after tartarus. a wraith in his arms, barely permeable and made of wispy shadow, as if he were to fade away into the darkness and never return. now nico spoke his name, reminding leo he was not alone, reminding leo that he was here and they were going to be okay . the thought comforts him, because gods, nico was safe. nico was alive, and leo could never be happier.
“yeah, it’s me,” leo says, a smile slowly finding its way onto his face. his first smile. “i’m here. we’re home, nico.”
“... home?” nico questions. “... where?”
“the argo ii. our friends rescued us.” it was a shifting memory, faint unlike the others that remained ingrained in his head. the cage ceasing to move and beginning to drain them as they pressed against the doors, a blur as they screamed for someone to release them of the trap they were chained in. the doors sliding open, and leo falling into unconsciousness just as a pair of arms caught him. the world spiraled into darkness, and all leo could hear was the sound of his own heart. dying.
“how long?” nico asks. “how long were we down there?”
leo dreads the question. “four months. we were down there for four months.”
nico’s eyes widen slightly for a moment, before the shock sets in and his eyes return to their hood over his dark retinas. time had not existed in the depths of tartarus, as it was a world where up was down and pleasure was pain. nothing there made sense, nothing there should have existed yet they persisted to hardwire the strongest minds, throwing those into a loop of nothing but endless suffering in a prison only meant for the demons meant to survive its rising walls and endless paths. few things had kept leo alive down there, few things had kept him striding towards the doors through the four months he had endured. tartarus was a timeless, godless realm. it had shattered leo’s psyche, it had torn him apart limb by limb. tartarus was not kind. and it never will be. to be there for four months would not be a stretch.
“what is it now?” nico asks him.
“december,” leo answers. “we got rescued back in november. you’ve been in a coma for more than a week.” a pause. “how are you feeling?”
nico is silent for a second, gaze drifting to the open window outside, a grimace forming on his facade. “bad.”
leo can’t help but release a little laugh, less coherent and more of a huff of breath. yet it caused nico’s gaze to drift back to him, as if startled by the sudden noise that formed in leo’s mouth. “me too, man,” leo says, now on his side and facing him, thumbing over his scarred nub. “i was scared, y’know? i thought… i thought you weren’t going to wake up. everyone’s been waiting for you. i missed you.”
nico’s knit eyebrows, a habit, laxed until the lines formed between faded away. he was looking at leo with an expression as if he knew something he didn’t, kind retinas meeting his with a gaze blanketed by solace. “did you?”
“yeah, i did.” leo gives him a small smile. nico smiles back, his first one since awakening, barely there yet still causing a warmth to spread in leo’s chest, his heartbeat picking up a beat as they just laid there in silence, gratefulness in their eyes. leo could hear nico’s breathing from across, serene and soft and lively.
leo thought the world to be one concise machine, a massive hulk of horsepower and chains and rigs that ran on the energy of a being — he did not know who had built it, or if it would ever end, but all he knew that it was to be a collective mechanism that rivaled any other. the machine was not broken nor would it ever be, and though the chains would break or the gears would cease, it could have been for a reason. it could be that the machine learns, learns from itself, and suddenly it can function in spite of the damage. the world learns to move on, learns to get by with every chip and mark. maybe that was why leo had not yet given up on the world, still holding on to the unsteady reality he resided in. it was the mere impression, the idea that the machine still works despite itself.
nico was a part of the machine, it was clear to him. he was one of the gears with a drive unlike anyone else, no matter how many pieces of him were dented or how much rust gathered at his teeth. leo had been scared of him. not of him, but what he could mean to leo. he had been so terrified of learning more of him yet never seemed to tire of his deadpan remarks or the faint hint of smiles on his face. leo hopes that this was not tartarus’ doing, that seeing nico di angelo and feeling that rush in his soul was of him and him alone. he thinks he can be with nico. that he can look to him and know that he’s not the only gear in the machine with chipped teeth and rusty framework. that there is still hope for them to continue working the mechanism. it makes him feel safe, makes him feel loved . he loves this feeling, reaches for it, laments for it. it makes him want to leave this prison and find another that was not a dreadful cell but a skyscraper. he loves nico. so much.
he does just that, slowly slipping from the covers bunched around his scrawny body and making his way to nico di angelo on the other bed, ignoring how each step was like walking on the glass shards on an ashen beach. nico makes room for him, and leo sits next to him before laying down once again, nico’s bedsheets gathered at his ankles. he can’t help but press his head against nico’s chest, the faint yet steady pulse of nico’s heartbeat listened to with ears shed to the true horrors of the world, a comfort in those horrid voices. nico’s hands find their way to his waist, stroking across his sides with careful prose. his wrists hold veins of tar black, darkness seeping through his skin. it did not scare leo. it felt almost natural, for their legs to be tangled together as leo felt the rise and fall of nico’s lungs beneath bruised skin. he clutched nico’s shoulder, the fabric wrinkling under a burnt feeble hand. he’s not cold anymore.
“i’m sorry,” nico apologizes. “for not waking up sooner.”
“don’t,” leo begs, because nico didn’t owe anything to him, because all he cares about is that nico is awake now. “we’re okay now. you don’t need to apologize.”
“okay.” nico is quiet, staring down at leo who is resting atop his pulse, tracing shapes over his skin as his chilled breath caused shivers, though not too unpleasant, to tingle down leo’s spine. “have you slept yet?”
“no. too… too many sounds.”
“i know.” nico presses their foreheads together, their noses bumping against each other as nico caresses his face within his hands. leo can’t help but fall helpless to just how nice it was to feel them on his face, brushing against his lashes while nico stared at him intently. the mere feeling that he was safe, his petrichor scent sweet and hopeful. “just… try, okay? i’m here.”
leo will try. “okay.”
leo closes his eyes once more, allowing the drowsiness to encapsulate him now that he was residing in what felt like home, in nico’s arms. he wakes up hours later, eyelids fluttering open to the window, open to the limbo between night and morning. through the open glass of the window, light streamed through the light of the heavens, pooling over nico’s olive skin that was set ablaze in a benign flush of rose gold. the particles, twinkling asters, caressed nico’s scarred visage gently, his cheeks flaring to life and glinting in the dawn. his freckles, scattered over his facade preciously, were like star clusters that hung beneath his raven eyelashes. nico’s hair, curled like smoke and encasing his visage, was illuminated to reveal the black, brown, and gray within the twisting locks. nico was ethereal, the he was enclosed in the rose of morning straight out of a painting — an angel on earth. beautiful.
he looked on at leo with tender eyes that softened as leo slowly came back into consciousness, thumbing his cheek in silent awe. leo felt himself melt at the affection, and couldn’t help but reach up and tuck a small strand of nico’s curls back behind his ear. they didn’t say anything, only basking in the peach glow of the morning and looking at each other as if they’d known each other all their lives. there was so much leo knew about nico di angelo, yet so much he didn’t, and maybe that was okay. leo just wants them to stay like this until eternity had passed.
nico taps on his cheek.
.... ..
leo laughs, smiling at the person he loves more than anything else in the world. love. it felt great. it felt great to love someone again.
.... . -.-- / -. . . -.- ...
it took them days before they could begin walking again.
nico had been pushed into a full liquid diet, which was not a problem. he did not want to have to swallow down solid chunks of food only to vomit them up, and he was so used to drinking only refreshments that he could barely even swallow anything else than the nectar offered to him. the drink of the gods would temporarily fill him with warmth and comfort, though it would quickly subside to make way for the aching of his limbs, a never-ending torture that was not agonizing but was not pleasant either. when he had begun to train himself to walk, each step was over a bed of nails, pointed and digging into the soles of his feet that were covered in long fuzzy socks. he was no longer wearing the clothes of grime and ash, fresher and new and from his own closet that he was unallowed to visit due to his confinement within the infirmary.
luckily, leo was there to catch him when he fell. although nico had woken up in a more stable condition than him due to his longer coma, leo still had the upper hand when it came to walking. he’d hold nico by the arm as they trolled through the hallway of the argo ii, keeping each other upright, leo’s body pressed up against the wall to keep himself up as well. soon, they could walk without the guidance of their friends or each other, although they would frequently lose balance at times. and they would not stop holding each other, as if afraid the other would slip away from their grasp if they were apart for too long. whenever nico did not see leo, there was a voice in the back of his mind, asking him where he is. if he is safe. leo seemed to have the same issue.
finally, after several days, things would have been considered normal. nico made up for lost time with his friends, gazed at the mainland the argo ii was docked on, and sat on the glass floor of the stables to watch the mythological sea creatures pass by under his own feet. he looked up at the athena parthenos, an ivory statue of gilded metal, and could not help but feel bitter of how everything had spiraled downwards because of that damn statue. he hoped percy and annabeth would hurry up with their arrival, since he did not want to see such a monstrosity on board of the ship.
his prayers were answered four weeks since their rescue, four weeks since they had been saved from the doors of death and left the pits of tartarus behind them. a honk had been heard from the distance, and out of nowhere came a fishing boat half the size of the argo ii and a perfect size for the athena parthenos, and on board were two young adult demigods wearing bright orange t-shirts, camp half-blood scribbled in ancient greek on their chests, bead necklaces hanging over their collarbones and their skin scarred almost as much as nico and leo. one had golden princess curls, the other had kinky dark hair — both had gray streaks within them. nico did not know whether to be overjoyed for the appearance of familiar faces, or nervous of the looming conversation they may have. he wondered if they knew of tartarus.
it had taken the whole afternoon to get the athena parthenos out of the stables and to the fishing boat. the argo ii had been switched to flight mode, with jason and frank helping with bringing the statue to the ground. it took even more time to rig it with the ropes they had on hand. the plus side, however, was that percy and annabeth had brought more supplies — bandages, herbs, machine parts, greek fire — everything that was needed to replenish their resources.
nico was taking inventory, unable to shadow travel still — though it was more of fear from the consequences than the weakness of his body, which was still healing from its wounds in the abyss. leo was helping him, though he frequently left to assist his friends with the ropes and plans, his nimble fingers working through knots and instructing the steady placement of wires. nico watched him when he was finished with one of the supply crates, feeling something sprout in himself whenever leo would meet his eyes, softening from the weariness they held almost all the time. sometimes there would be a small upturn of lips on his face. it made nico happy.
annabeth had spoken to him while he was taking stock of a crate of knives (nico did not know why they needed any, but he’s sure they’ll come in at some point), her steel gray eyes locking with his, a respect in her silver orbs. “no mortal has ever come out of tartarus, no mortal had ever accomplished what you and leo had.” she knew about tartarus, most likely having been iris-messaged by the crew while they were gone. she smiled at nico, not in a brutal or forced way but one of genuity. “i’ll make sure to erect a monument on olympus for you.” nico had no idea if annabeth had been joking — when she made a promise, she usually intended to keep it — but the statement reminded him just why he liked annabeth so much. he thought he’d be jealous of her, hate her since she was an intelligent demigod who had challenged gods mightier than herself. instead, he loved how she did not view him as a freak of nature but rather as a powerful asset, a friend. she did not offer a hug but her eyes told an entire story, one that would have made nico feel proud of himself.
then percy came along.
over his camp t-shirt he wore a blue jacket with a red hoodie, dark skin covered with new wounds and bruises from his months long voyage to greece with annabeth, having ran through waters that were worse than the sea of monsters. his sea green eyes were an ocean that looked at nico with a softness, a brotherly gaze totally contrasting of the glare nico had received from his doppelganger in the mansion of night, an expression of hate rather than the one he gave him at that moment. “hey man,” percy had greeted. he was so much older than nico remembered, still towering over him yet now he was in college, and he was in the middle of sixteen and whatever would come after. nico realizes he had not seen percy face-to-face in years.
“me and annabeth learned about tartarus, even before you guys sent the note.” that note had made it, though nico had been skeptical of sending it, thinking that travis and connor would have done something stupid with it like placing a lighter beneath the edges of the napkin. percy looked at him with a sympathy less like pity and more like understanding, one that showed he knew as much as he could process about tartarus. “i’m… really sorry you had to go through that. you and leo survived all by yourselves and… jesus, that had to take a lot of guts. you’re amazing, man.”
“uh, thanks,” was all nico responded with. he did not really know what to say, had been silently hoping that percy would just speak with the other members of the seven — although that had already occurred, and nico may have been the only person left for percy to talk to. was nico always the last thought when it came to percy’s mind? or was he saving the most important conversation for last? it was a battle between self-loathing and selfishness, and nico did not want to have to think such stuff. he loves percy, he really does, but he did not feel ready for a conversation of how percy cares about him. it was too soon, too soon since he had came out to leo, too soon since he had seen his face in the depths of cocytus and felt his piercing daggers in the palace of nyx. although his feelings for percy had diminished, he still felt the wound knowing that percy had broken his promise, that even if he didn’t, it still hurt him deeply when percy did not realize nico had been forsaken.
“you two are doing okay?” percy asks him, and nico almost wants to tell him of how percy had been treating him, of how percy had did stuff that may have been minor but had felt major to nico. yet he can’t. even if it’ll make their talk easier, it would be hard to forge the words in the blacksmith house of his own mouth.
“yeah, we’re fine,” nico answers. he does not know whether or not he’s telling the truth. “we’re getting better.” nico really wants them to get better. and suddenly, a memory comes up — one of percy dousing iapetus the titan in a river of white, the lethe flowing over him and erasing every single memory iapetus had in his titanic brain. then percy had used it to his advantage, forging a new personality in a vessel that knew no history, no background to who he came to be. he feels a tug in his stomach in the reminder of how he had let this happen, how he had visited the titan yet never told him of his true heritage. he does not know why he speaks up about it, yet he does. “do you remember bob the titan?”
“oh yeah, bob!” a grin forms on percy’s facade, a troublemaker smile outlined even more by the raise of his eyebrow. “why? did you see him down there?”
nico shudders, a full body shiver as the wave of resent and guilt wash over him. no, bob would not want him to feel like this. he had forgiven him. nico had made a promise to him. yet he cannot help but feel this way, reminisce in how he had done the same things percy jackson had done — even for a good cause, he had done something that could be unforgivable. and percy notices this, notices how nico’s behavior had changed drastically, and his smile falls into a concerned frown. “hey, you sure you’re fine?” he asked, caring about nico despite all that has happened before. “if it’s about tartarus, i could help you—”
“i know, percy,” nico spits out, though it is not with the usual venom he holds in his charred throat. “it’s… it’s nothing.”
percy’s frown deepens, worry lines increasing between his furrowed brows. “are you—?”
before he can finish, leo enters the scene, and a breath nico had been holding exits from his trapped lungs, having been slowly drowning in gasoline. “hey, neeks,” leo greets, completely unacknowledging percy at first. he was wearing his new prosthetic arm, one of celestial bronze, though nico had seen him thumb it in contemplation, reminiscing in the memory of another limb that used to be stark white and of hollow bone.
“yo, leo,” percy greets with a smile, though all he is met with is a single “hey,” from leo, a deadpan expression over him that had erupted out of nowhere, and his eyes drift between nico and leo with something unreadable in them.
“you mind helping me with the ropes? there are a bunch of knots in them.”
“sure,” nico responds, quicker than he likes to. then he realizes something — leo was glaring at percy, both his hands curled into fists within his pockets, eyes with a hidden fire in them that would have made anyone combust on the spot. percy recognized this as well, the observant one he is, and is less ired and more confused, wondering why the son of hephaestus was holding such animosity within his eyes. nico gives percy what he hopes is a gentle, apologetic face. “i’ll tell you later.”
percy gives a defeated sigh. “okay.”
soon the athena parthenos was ready to be set off. the seven did not want percy and annabeth to leave, to return to the dreadful waters that had shipwrecked them time and time again, delaying their arrival to the seven for months. nico didn’t really know how to feel, though he suspects that he hardly feels anything for these types of goodbyes now. he loves them, he really does, but he can’t function around percy when he knows just well what he had been put through, can’t function without percy knowing the truth of how he felt or feels about him. nico is guilty, torn between wanting them to leave right now or sorting his head out in that moment. but percy offers him a fistbump. “see you, man,” he told him, as if they were friends. that’s a start.
percy and annabeth left along with coach hedge. another person to leave them to the ancient lands, a world of nothing but gods and monsters. “you cupcakes are tough,” coach had said, furiously wiping tears that dripped from his eyes, despondent and melancholy as he hugged each of them. “kick some ass for me, will ya?” he did not even shy away from nico’s arms that wrapped around him, silently begging for the satyr to not leave him like the rest. but coach hedge had a lover and a son back home. he hadn’t seen them in years . he deserved to go back home — he deserved to return to a life that nico never got to receive in the first place. so by the afternoon, the small fishing boat set off towards the unknown, the three in its hold and a gigantic athena parthenos at its deck. waving goodbyes at them. nico waves back. his heart is wrenching, his eyes are stinging. he wants to go with them too. but he doesn’t, and instead he heads back up to the ship with leo at his side.
later, nico found leo at the bow of the ship speaking with the figurehead of festus, a glinting archimedes sphere in his arms, one of prosthetic bronze and one with flooding amber veins. reyna was currently steering the ship, refusing to allow leo to man the wheel when he was still struggling to stay in hold with himself. he tapped on the archimedes sphere, and festus tapped back, a conversation nico could translate but he had refused to, believing that this talk was a private matter for the two alone. leo was wearing a thrasher hoodie that rustled with the breeze as the ship had now left dock. he had an almost lost look as he watched the roaring waves be split apart by the massive hull of the warship. heartsickness, nico thinks. for what, he does not know.
jason is offering reyna company by the wheel; piper, hazel, and frank are speaking near the railing of the deck; and there was leo, so in place yet the first thing he sees. nico almost does not want to bother him, already content with watching the boy speak with his mechanical dragon with eyes of crimson ruby and scales of plated gold as he fiddled with the wires of his new prosthetic. then leo turns around and catches his eye, gesturing him with a nod to come over. it’s almost natural when nico is by his side, slowly creeping an arm up his back and resting it upon a small crevice, a depression in his skin with rugged edges of dangerous blades. his arm is covered of the numerous wounds they possess, the vines of poison that had entangled his wrist hidden by black sleeves. the bruises on his knuckles and the oath in his palms are the only visible markings to nico’s vision. molten.
“can i show you something?” nico asks after a period of silence between them, and leo turns to him in question.
“sure,” he responds. “what is it?”
“you trust me?”
“course.”
“okay. come on.”
they sat on top of the mast, the breeze whishing through their hair as they overlooked the sea beyond, a stretch of aurelian ocean sparkling in the approach of sundown. the waters had turned into a synthesis of hues, the blue making way for the plum and peach, a gorgeous flush of cool color across the foam. the atmosphere was pricking with the saltiness of the waves, sea spray flying with each thrust of the automatic oars that pushed the ship to their next destination. to where, neither knew, only registering the beauty of the sky above and the person by their sides.
a blanket was draped over their shoulders, brought along by nico as he climbed his way up to the highest point of the ship, the salty wind causing tears to prick at the sides of his eyes. he was not afraid of heights, or at least the fall that could await him if he managed to slip off the beam supporting his lithe body, not in any circumstance close enough to the horrorful plummet into the hell below the surface of the mortal realm. leo’s hand was intertwined with his, tapping small patterns on his knuckles subconsciously, spelling no words yet holding more than other could have imagined. they stared out towards the horizon as the sun was descending to another town, shedding light on those who stirred from their blankets and left their cubicles. there was barely a sound in the air — not a whisper, or scream, or a sob. silence penetrated by slight conversation on the deck below and the kind breeze beating against nico’s black sweater.
nico tugged his corner of the blanket to his shoulder, basking in the falling sunlight and awaiting nyx’s chariot to pull through the universe entirely, enshrouding the world in darkness but allowing stars to graze their fingers against the clouds. this was not tartarus. this was not that dreadful pit, so devoid of hope or love or light. this was not tartarus, where nico was alone for all eternity, his voice broken as he called for those who could hear him no more. this was not tartarus, whose only goal was to shatter nico’s mind, rivening him until he was a husk of who he was before. this world, each detail visible to nico’s eye, was not tartarus. and it had been under his nose the entire time.
slowly, he drifted his gaze away from the lilac and rosette world to leo, his hearth thawing nico out as he continued to stare at the boy. in the dusk, the streams of aurelian rivers cascaded over leo’s face, the orchid aether draping over his skin like silk. his eyes were soft as they stared towards the horizon, eyebrows relaxed as he inhaled the fresh air gifted from the gods themselves. he was so, so pretty. nico could view every detail of him — from the faint saturn rings and crescent moons over his ink eyelashes to the way those eyelashes met his cheekbones when he would blink, creating adoring shadows over his facade. the moles scattered across his face formed constellations that nico indulged in naming, tracing invisible meteoric lines between each dot. orion , lyra, ursa minor , ursa major . leo . his dark curls were nightly wisps that framed his face perfectly, irises resilient embers in the setting sun. the sight of leo in the twilight was breathtaking, a blossom in the center of an endless sea. beautiful.
nico felt like he was falling. he quickly turned away, blood flushing over his face as he tried to still his pulse. it beat like one of a deer as it galloped in towering forests. falling.
asudden nico feels a head fall onto his shoulder. he looks down at leo, eyelids drooping until it cast slight silhouettes over his features from his long lashes. before, nico would not have thought that affection like this, deprived from him at such a young age, could cause his body to mellow, melting as he listened intently to leo’s breathing, serene despite the hell he has been through. alive, each inhale and exhale filling nico with relief — leo was alive, he was by his side, and that was all that mattered to him in that moment. leo was his anchor, the tether that kept his soul from sinking down into the earth and lose who he was, the boulder he had leaned on through the toughest times. warmth blooms in nico’s chest whenever leo laughs until he can’t breath, whenever leo was smiling at him with yearning eyes, whenever leo enveloped him in a hug and let himself be vulnerable for him. nico loved leo. so, so much.
he still reminisces in the elevator, recalling the softness of leo’s lips against his. a gentle kiss. the way their foreheads pressed against each other, psyches torn apart after the battle. leo smelled like fireworks.
despite how much nico wanted their lips together once more, how much nico wanted to hold him in his arms and never let go, he did not feel ready for whatever would happen after, and neither was leo. it was a silent agreement between two parties, losing everything they had ever loved and just now learning to reclaim that lost love once more. nico loved leo, so much. but he can’t put in effort when he can barely hold himself together, the damage of the abyss causing him to envision shadows where shadows should not be. nico was not ready with the end of the world approaching, the primordial of the earth itself rising from her sleep to bring upon the destruction on her old descendants. there was pain, there was fear. nico was now beginning to admit that he was scared, terrified of that looming future. they were not ready. maybe that was okay.
nico knew that this would be a patient trial, one he could push through despite the voices in the back of his mind and the ache that occurred whenever everything else stood still. nico had a family now. he had those who genuinely want to see him alive, to see him safe and happy. he had those who would hold the pieces of himself and aid him in placing his parts back together. this trauma, this grief, this ache — he was not alone. he had his family. he had leo.
“look,” leo spoke out, his voice a mere whisper like the fading light that had now given way to the chariot of night, a veil of pitch above their heads. “stars.”
nico did look. he awed at the gorgeous constellations dotting each and every other surface of the sky, white orbs containing the secrets of the universe as vivid as the grains of sand nico could hold in his palm. for once, the curse of the mansion of night was a gift, allowing him to stare at the meteors trailing through the lights and the full moon that had begun to ascend, a porcelain masterpiece. the moon was now full, a gleaming mass of ivory in the sky that caused the teardrops around nico’s neck to shine faintly. then, nico could look closer and see a cluster of stars begin to close in together — forming two new constellations right in front of nico’s eyes. a small sob formed in nico’s charred throat, recalling the promise he had made to his friends down below, their faces of pride for nico and leo’s resilience as they shut the doors of death. it takes hours for nico to even speak the words, but leo squeezes his hand, the hand that held their oath fulfilled — a promise that would never cease no matter how old nico would become.
“bob says hello.”
nico rests his head atop of leo’s. after all they had been through, he would never get tired of this. watching the dusk filled with asters as their scarred hands held one another’s, caring about each other so much it hurt. it felt good to be loved, thought nico. leo scoots a little closer, the blanket over them nearly touching corners. besides him, leo stares up at the stars, the twinkling reflected in his honey brown irises. yeah, it felt good to be alive.
nico closes his eyes and leans into his home.