Chapter Text
Long, back curls frame a sheet-white face, and even in sleep, it looks like the boy is in pain.
The room is silent–he’s not dead, no, but he’s teetering on the precipice of something that can’t be reversed.
The small black book sits open on the side-table. It’s flipped open to a drawing–an incredibly detailed, beautiful one. Anyone who had eyes would say it looked like Percy, but more distant, cold, looking elsewhere.
Percy refuses to acknowledge it.
-
“He’s stable,” is the only consolation that Will can offer everyone in the room. Hazel is sobbing into Frank’s shirt, and everyone else in the room looks on, pale and shaky.
Jason has his head in his hand, and occasionally, he trembles, tears slipping down his hands. Piper rubs his back, softly cooing comforting words in charmspeak.
Percy stares off into the distance, blinking furiously.
-
When he wakes up, Hazel is the first one to go in. Will appears at the door about an hour later, saying that the rest of them can come in, but, “don’t stress him out,”.
Will then steps out, presumably to talk to Chiron.
-
“Nico!”
The boy looks the same as he did three days ago, but his glassy, brown-gold eyes open. He looks over at all of them, and he drops his eyes down to his lap. Hazel sits beside him, clasping one of his pale hands between her warm ones. She looks back at them desperately, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes.
Jason is the first to move, striding over to the immaculate bed, quickly hugging Nico. The boy winces, and Hazel scoots back in her chair. Nico keeps his hands, his bandaged wrists, at his side. Jason eventually steps back, and the room is awkwardly quiet until Jason speaks up.
“Why?”
The question itself is simple; it beckons a clear explanation. But what hangs behind it? That, that’s so much more complicated, and, halfway, everyone in the room is dreading the answer.
Nico looks back over at the rest of them, blinking slowly. He eventually turns back, looking out the window, and, “it doesn’t matter,”.
Percy’s eyebrows raise, and Annabeth’s mimic. Jason clenches his fists.
“You try to commit suicide, and all we get is, “it doesn’t matter”? What the hell, Nico?!”
-
(A small picture of a young girl, wearing a green hat. The picture seems old, worn around the edges. A small note is on the back: Ti amo, mia dolce bambina!)
-
“Nico, we need to discuss this,” Chiron says, his tail swishing behind him. Nico stares out the open window, out at the strawberry fields. He can smell the sea air and strawberries.
It causes a pang deep inside him, and he can almost see the shoreline.
“What’s there to discuss?” Nico tersely replies. He can almost hear Chiron’s frown.
“Nico, you...we can’t leave you unsupervised,” Chiron says’s, like Nico doesn’t know. Like Nico thinks that things are ever going to go back to where they’re supposed to be, like what Nico was trying to do.
“I’m not staying.” It's not a request.
“Nico, you are. I...we have protocols. You can’t leave, and I can assure you, we can make it impossible for you to. If needed, we’ll find some way to contact your father—“
“He doesn’t care,” because Nico’s fairly certain of two things:
A: they won’t be able to get ahold of Hades.
B: even if they do, he won’t care. It’s not his business to.
“Nico, you can’t say things like—“
“Chiron, I don’t need a therapist.”
“Quite the contrary, Mr. di Angelo, I think that is something you need, and, indeed, something we will provide you with,” Mr. D’s voice startles Nico, and he looks over at the god. He looks startlingly sober, and serious. Nico’s never heard him pronounce anyone’s name right.
“Mr. D, I’m fine, number one, and, two, you all can’t keep me here,”
Dionysus’s face seems to darken.
“You’re challenging a god?”
“I’m saying that, in the end, I’m fairly certain it doesn’t matter that much to you.”
Chiron whinnies nervously. Mr. D motions for him to leave, and, with a worried glance, he obeys. Dionysus takes the chair chair beside Nico’s bed, and stubbornly, the son of Hades looks back out the window.
“Mr. di Angelo, I’m the patron god of quite a few things. However, two of them, directly, impact you. I’d like you to guess what those two things are,”
Nico shoots a questioning glance over at the god, before shrugging.
“Well, you’re the patron god of...transgender people,” Nico shot a glance down at his own chest, “and...um…?”
Mr. D nodded. “Indeed, I am the patron god of anyone struggling with their gender. In fact, if memory serves, I was the one who provided you with your binder.” A Diet co*ke is suddenly in the god’s hand, and Nico doesn’t comment on it. “However, I’m also the patron god of mental health.”
Nico looks at Dionysus, shocked. Mr. D simply nods, taking a sip of his drink.
“And, Mr. di Angelo, I might as well to something while I’m stuck at this gods forsaken camp, so, I’m here to help you. Now, it’s up to you rather or not this is easy,”
-
(A piece of paper, found in Nico di Angelo’s pocket)
To anyone who has the unfortunate luck of finding this (if it’s ever even found),
Sorry you had to see that. I tried to make it as...non–scarring as possible. I’m sorry that it couldn’t be done better.
To anyone curious as to the ‘why’ of the situation:
It’s been a long time coming. According to my father, many a child of his have done the same thing I’m doing. Not that I blame them; life for the offspring of Hades was destined to be cruel. Not many of us can handle it.
I just can’t handle it anymore. The anxiety, anger, emptiness, it gets to a person. I’m not strong enough to keep going. And besides, I won’t be missed. Well, besides Hazel. I feel awful doing this to her, but she’ll be fine. She has people to support her, and for that, I’m thankful.
I hope Jason is okay. The poor man seems to have a big heart, and for that, I hope he doesn’t find me.
-
