He was laughing.
Daniel was always laughing.
Even if Nico turned away, he could still hear his laughter. Despite the busy food hall, the loud noises, and the layers and layers of rambling conversations overlapping on top each other, Nico always heard Daniel’s laugh. It was light, airy, floating. It always managed to drift lazily into Nico’s ears, making sure that no matter where his thoughts took him, Daniel’s breath would always be there, tickling the back of his mind.
It hurt.
Nico didn’t really know why, and he was frustrated with himself because of it.
Bubbles of conflict rose to his throat. Why did Daniel’s happy sounds hurt so much? Why was Nico hurt over Daniel’s happiness? What kind of (what were they, really? Neither had said the “boyfriend” word yet, so that must mean they were… Obviously… Nico, he… he and Daniel… My god, he didn’t. know. Perfect. Fabulous. Absolutely great. Now Nico had to worry about Defining the Relationship as well as all these other feelings. Why hasn’t he had a panic attack yet?)… friend did that? Was it jealousy? Nico clenched his knuckles together in a tight grimace, his fingernails biting into his skin. He pushed at the flesh harder, and harder, until he felt a muscle spasm.
He let a deep breath out and unclenched his hand. It twitched.
Jealousy. The tension started to pressurize in his chest again. He let out another fast exhale. Yes, he was jealous, he decided. Now to proceed onto the next infinity of questions that answer has opened- How jealous was he? Were there other feelings involved, too? Was envy only a small part of the equation? Why was he envious? Was he jealous of not having Daniel to himself? Or was he jealous of Daniel himself?
Defeat. That was also an emotion in there, somewhere. He stole another glance at the boy who was just so… so effortless.
Maybe defeat as in… he gave up hope, because he can never be as effortless as Daniel was? Never be as happy as Daniel was? Fear that it would never work out, between a healing boy who was never quite fully there and the guy that was fuller than life itself?
Was it also the fact that…
That Daniel wouldn’t ever be able to understand Nico? Because how can someone like that possibly even comprehend what Nico has gone through?
So many questions. Too many questions. An overwhelmance of questions. A crushing sky full of questions.
It was almost enough for Nico to want out of any relationship ever again, because-honestly- who would be able to handle him? The hopelessness was smothering.
But he thought about Daniel.
Not about the Daniel in the room, the one that was a star shower of fun and love, but the one he became when they were both alone.
Then, the fireworks slowed. The lights dimmed. He became more relaxed, laid-back: the guy hanging out backstage after an amazing show. He was genuine and real, raw and soft, glowing without blinding Nico in the face.
Then, Daniel could understand. And he did understand. Everything that Nico has put out there, Daniel has understood. In those moments. Then.
But then isn’t all the time. Then isn’t now, where Daniel is putting himself out there on some sort of full-blast supernova power show, laughing it up and dancing giddily around his circle of friends.
Is it enough just to like one side?
Is it right to just like one side?
Was Nico being a terrible person to not fully accept Daniel for everything and every side that he is?
And was it possible for Nico to ever get a grip on his feelings? Because his relationship… It was kind of depending on that.
***

Later…
Jason spit across the table. Hazel gave a small groan while Piper snorted water out of her nose herself. Reyna smiled behind her gaze.
“Is that even possible?” Jason started choking through his laughing heaves. Ever since the end of the war, Jason had considerably loosened up. Funny- everybody was laughing pretty hard these days. Nico scowled. “I thought that Hades and Persephone, uh, were a pretty solid husband and wife power couple. I read that they were one of the only godly marriages that never cheated on…”
He trailed off. Nico and Hazel both looked at him in complete disbelief.
“Oh. Right. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking- that was obviously misleading information…”
“Yeah, well, Dad definitely got around before the Big Three agreement was assigned,” Nico said dryly, thinking of World War II. Hades had a whole mass of children on the losing side. “I think Persephone decided that she certainly had enough reason to go out and have some fun herself.”
“But that makes you two…” Jason raised his eyebrows at Nico and glanced over at the guy leaning against the wall- the one with sandy hair and light brown eyes. Nico was focused at Jason, shaking his head, just daring him to say it. He didn’t seem to notice the guy on the wall that was so obviously staring at him, watching Nico’s every move.
Jason smiled at the sight and lifted his head, adverting his eyes back to Nico. “Step-siblings.”
Piper snorted again. Nico slunk in his seat. “Step-uncle-and-nephew,” he muttered in correction. “He’s not a demigod. Persephone’s his grandmother.” Piper snorted louder. He glanced around at the table and found four smiles grinning down at him. He threw up his hands. “But godly DNA doesn’t count!”
But he himself had a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. He pushed Piper away playfully as she pinched his cheeks. He told off Jason for dating his “grand-daughter” (“And how sick is that?” Nico demanded). When he whirled around to Reyna, and she tried to casually pick at a knife with an uncontrollable giggle forming on her face, he accidentally let out a giggle himself.
They all continued to joke at him, nudge him, beam at him, and he slumped into his hands, unable to handle himself and his laughs. He was so wrapped up in the moment, he forgot to look around the room for the boy with sunshine splashed on his face and streaked in his hair.
That forgotten boy watched the whole scene from the wall. No emotions could really describe what he was feeling- awe, admiration, longing, wonder? None of them quite fit the descriptions…
Let’s just say that the boy on the wall had very different ideas of who “the sunshine in the room” was.
***
He would just have to wait. There was no more information he could extract from Gerald. There were no updates on the other Reborn.
Fortunately, Nico realized thoughtfully, thinking of one particular person, there were now other ways he could occupy his time.
***
Months later…
“You never really told me about that night.”
“What?”
“That night. The night we met.”
“I…? What’s there to tell?”
“You know what I mean,” Daniel complained, softly bumping shoulders with Nico. “I know you were summoning ghosts. Or, at least, that one ghost. But why? You never explained. You said you would, but-“
“Daniel-“
“Tell me.”
There was a quiet pause.
“I’m not sure if now… It’s kind of a long story.”
“Then tell it.”
“D-“
“Please.”
Another very long, pregnant silence. The weight of conflict clearly tipped frm side to side as Nico struggled.
He let out a sigh, bracing himself. He began talking.
***
Sometime later…
“Percy Jackson, huh?”
Nico nodded, curiously. The name still gave him a very dull throb in the chest, but it was nothing he couldn’t shake off.
Daniel grimaced. He watched the guy hold hands with the curly-haired blonde with the fierce eyes.
He held onto Nico’s hand tightly.
Nico let out a guffaw.
***
Much much later…
Nico tripped out of his chair and immediately began rushing out the door. Glaring brown eyes stopped him in his tracks.
“Your project again?” Daniel stared him down, in a monotone voice. Monotone voices… on Daniel… were not good.
Nico recoiled, glaring back, until he forced himself to stop. His anger slipped off his face, and he stared at Daniel, hurt brushing against his features.
“You don’t understand,” Nico stated quietly, sadly, like it was a simple fact that couldn’t be controlled. “I have to.”
And before he had to hear his best friend could say “No, you don’t” one more time, Nico rushed at the shadows on the wall and disappeared.
***

Years later…

Elena is eight.
Beautiful weather, terrible day.
What a cruel combination.
The funeral was very striking, very long, very somber, and very quiet. And Elena felt every moment of it. She hadn’t known the body in the casket well at all, but she understood the weight of death. She understood the unspoken words in the air, the hurt of the people around her, and the soul lost. She knew it like the back of her hand. She herself wasn’t in any heart-breaking pain, but she understood everyone else’s. And that made her very sad. It also made her long to stand up and shout the words she wanted to say to the whole crowd, to make them understand- that there was an After. This wasn’t the end! This wasn’t the end!
Elena was no longer the tense, confused five year old trapped by a horribly frightening city. She knew this place, seeing the beauty in its surface. She spoke English now, easily, although her words were sometimes off. She quickly began to realize that she was very strong- once she’d broken two arms and hadn’t cried a single tear.
She knew to trust her instincts.
She knew things, somehow, felt them inside.
And she wished others could know them too.
And Elena recognized all of this. She understood what she was feeling, through and through. It took her a while, but she got a hang of analyzing herself and her emotions, and others and theirs’.
At this place in her life, she was mostly quiet. She took in the things around her with her eyes and processed them thoroughly. She knew things. Anyone could see that.
And she knew that somehow, she especially knew things about this. This funeral.
While the nine year old yawned and picked at his tuxedo, and the seven year old fell asleep, Elena sat facing forward, staring at the casket, nodding solemnly when she needed to, paying full attention throughout the whole ceremony. She wasn’t appalled, like the adults might expect her to be. She was just sad.
There was a man reading from a book in words of respect. She startled at some words of Latin, hearing the rusty creaks turn; “beati”- blessed? “revertar”- return… “mort-“ death.
She frowned, for the first time leaving the thoughts of the funeral. How did she know Latin, again? It was something that always seemed to be with her, but her parents spoke Spanish, and everyone else spoke English, but she must’ve learned Latin somewhere…
That’s funny. That part of her brain seemed to go fuzzy and back into focus.
She furrowed her brow even more. This didn’t make any-
In her concentration, her thoughts broke through to some pale figures standing around the casket. Why were they up there? Was she supposed to go up there, too? No, no- everyone else was sitting down. Who were those people?
She squinted even harder, and she could make out… clear beings. Literally, clear beings. She could see right through them!
When she leaned back in confusion, a mist spread out around the casket, and she couldn’t see anything more. Her head whirled even more. She tried to glance through the mist, but it stayed there, hovering around, throughout the rest of the funeral.
The Latin… The mist, clear beings… Something pricked. It stung her head.
She hesitantly thought back to her Spain years, but something felt too uncomfortable (it always did) and she withdrew. Still… Elena continued to ponder and wonder about what had happened that day.
That night, she dreamed of ghosts with funny animal heads and great, Coliseum-style fights. She dreamed of two trees growing away from each other in the corner- one female, one male- clucking their tongue at Elena in disapproval. She shrugged her shoulders helplessly before crossing her arms. What did they want her to do?
She realized they weren’t looking at her, but instead at something behind her. Terrified, she turned to the back, but there was a boxing match going on, with a large bed as the floor. “Arde in infernum! Arde in infernum! Arde in infernum!” Somebody named… named… (Roof? Roofus?) Roofus screamed, rolling and somersaulting and twirling in the air.
Elena laughed, uncontrollably, unable to stop, until she shrunk to a tiny bug-sized being. The ghosts all crowded around her, but she didn’t feel afraid. She clapped, and they all clapped, and a particular ghost in a toga stepped forward and held out his hand for her to climb up on- Claude, she thought- and smiled widely, speaking in rapid Latin.
A river flooded the room, and suddenly it was Elena’s London room, and she and the ghosts were having a pool party.
And everybody was there- all the gods, all the gods, all the other gods, there are other gods, there are other gods, there are other gods….
The dream faded into a mumble of words and plasma and transparency and clouds.
When Elena woke up, she remembered something about trees and ghosts, with the intense shattering of déjà vu twisting inside of her, and nothing more.

Notes

Very, very, very weird chapter. I'm sorry; I wasn't sure if I should post the Nico Daniel stuff, but decided to keep it at the last second. If I happen to edit through this story later, I might take out the Nico Daniel <-kind of fluff-> and add it as an extra at the end. :))) I'm trying to get better at cutting down on detail