Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: AU Nicercy. Nico's family is loving, wealthy, and thriving. Percy's is... not. When Hades di Angelo decides to sign his family up for a foundation that homes 'troubled families' with loving ones to counsel them into having a healthy home life, Nico ends up living with the captain of the swim team.

In this chapter, we meet all the characters. I borrowed the structure of Nico's family from TakaraPhoenix.

"Dad," Nico deadpanned, mouth slightly agape. "That's insane. Actually crazy. Who the hell knows who we're about to be living with for the next three months?" He asked, throwing his lean, muscular arms around. Bianca, his older sister, nodded slowly.

"You know I usually approve of helping people... but helping others doesn't necessarily need to jeopardize our family's safety," she said softly, displaying the peace-making skills that he's always envied so much.

"I think it's great," Hazel voiced tiredly, rubbing her eyes and shaking her caramel hair wildly around her heart shaped face. "We're assisting another family, guys! What could possibly go wrong with this?"

"Not to choose any side," Thanatos spoke up, raising a hand defensively, "but saying things like that will definitely make something go wrong. Murphy's Law. Other than that, though, I don't see anything hugely dangerous about this."

Nico felt like smacking his head into the kitchen table. Repeatedly. It was hard to place a finger on why exactly he wasn't able to support the idea wholeheartedly; on one hand, yeah, he approved on the idea of putting good families together with messed up ones to teach them good habits or whatever. But on the other hand, he didn't see why it had to be his family.

"We're part of a small fraction of the population able to help a family of their size," Hades said (reading his mind like always) with a small shrug, taking a sip of the black coffee that Nico knows must be scalding. He never understood how his dad could drink coffee that way, bitter and boiling. "And I was just telling you. Your objections won't stop it."

Letting out a small sigh was Bianca's only way of showing disappointment at her loss, which managed to pinch that one nerve in Nico's mind. Bianca never raised her voice at anybody, even if they were screaming straight in her face or spitting on her shoes. Of course, neither had yet to happen, because of how amazing her skills were with diplomacy.

Part of Nico looked up to her, like any younger sibling was apt to do. The other part couldn't wait to see her finally explode.

"If my objections aren't going to make a difference, can I go out with my friends after school today?" Nico asked hopefully, already imagining the reactions he would get from Octavian, Lou, and Jason. "You're fucking kidding," Lou would say, snapping her gum and shaking her head slowly. "Keep us updated, Nicky."

"Of course," Hades responded after another mouthful of his disgusting coffee. "If you need a ride, call me, alright?"

Nodding in confirmation, Nico grabbed his phone to text Octavian, who had always been the best at organizing where the group would go.

-o0o-

Percy was drowning in his sheets. He couldn't breathe.

It sounded poetic, and figurative, and a bunch of other English terms that he'd never had time to memorize for the quizzes that he failed every class. At least they couldn't kick him out of Goode High School, since he was their best swimmer and they wanted as many trophies as possible.

But the bottom line was, somebody was trying to strangle him with his sheets, and he knew who it was.

"Triton, get off of me," he snapped, raspy but firm, the only response being an annoyed grunt.

"I know it was you or Tyson who stole it, and I want the shirt back! It's mine, I paid money for it, and I want to wear it today!" Triton raged, shaking Percy's head a few times. For a moment, Percy imagined his head as a grape, red tinted and about to burst. He would have laughed if it wasn't so close to reality.

As hard as it was to believe most days, Triton was actually the oldest of Poseidon's children at age 27. He took a few years off of school to have a 'wilderness sabbatical'. Twice. So he was still completing college, and therefore unable to be kicked out of the Jackson homestead. As a matter of concrete fact, there was only one thing protecting Triton from indefinite banning.

His protection came in his blood; Triton was the only biological son of Poseidon's actual wife, Amphirite.

Triton let out a huffy scoff, climbing off of Percy to storm out of the room he shared with all of his brothers, promising pain and eternal suffering as soon as he found sufficient evidence that Percy was the one who abducted the shirt in question. Percy touched his neck a few times, then shrugged. Not bad; just a little sore, and certainly not enough to bruise.

Once the blood stopped pounding in his ears, Percy could hear distant yelling coming from the two loudest in the apartment. Surprisingly, even though Triton earned the trophy for Most Annoying, he missed the Loudest Brother award by a landslide.

There was a constant tension between Ephialtes and Arion, 24 and 25, and Percy was sure that even they didn't understand what started it anymore. They'd both grown up in the background, watching Triton be babied and adored, and eventually their competition for second place snapped something inside of them.

Ephialtes, on the pudgy side, took after his mother in every way with his sandy blond hair and muddy hazel eyes. He was a semi-professional wrestler, meaning that he was unemployed and just missed the bar for professional wrestlers. Arion was long, lanky, and hyperactive, finding time to make a new cup of coffee whenever his mug emptied itself. He was the kind of guy who could be happy and smiling one moment and ready to bite heads off the next.

Needless to say, his silver tongue and willingness to offend got Ephialtes going something fierce, and if nothing else, they could be okay entertainment if the TV was broken from being smashed with yet another poorly aimed remote toss.

He could hear their sputtered and screamed words spilling from the family's new favorite argument: who was going to pick up a few extra shifts at work to get the money to turn on central heating again. The air was starting to carry just enough of a nip to be annoying. Percy's favorite argument was Ephialtes', since the guy always seemed to come to the conclusion that Tyson had reached the age where he would need to earn his keep.

If was funny to him, mostly because Tyson was his favorite, a shining light in his hectic world, and if anybody wanted to push him they would need to get Percy out of the way first.

When it got to the stage at which arguments devolved into personal blows, (Oh yeah? Well your haircut is dumb!) Chrysaor would swoop in and break it up. He and Percy traded off the responsibility of keeping the general peace, and in three days, it would be his turn in the cycle.

Chrysaor was... well, he was one of the better Jacksons, Percy supposed. 22 years old and struggling in art school with metal working and sculptures, Chrysaor was addicted to cigarettes like Arion was addicted to coffee, but much less obvious about it. Chrys always managed to fade into the backdrop if he so desired, somehow making Arion's mug more apparent than the smoking object propped between his fingers.

Footsteps approached the door, and Percy reached towards the nightstand for Chrys' art history book, 500 pages long and hardcover, in case it was Triton coming back with the proof that he had touched his shirt.

(Which he hadn't. The shirt in question was made out of what felt like spandex and featured a night sky, not exactly something Percy was interested it.)

Instead, Tyson walked in, chocolate brown eyes looking worried.

"Is he gone? Did he try to kill you?" He asked, glancing around like Triton could be hiding anywhere. Percy smiled at his baby brother, then ruffled his hair.

"He's not here, he went off to find proof that I stole his shirt," he said with a wink. "And Triton couldn't kill me if he tried," Percy teased confidently, liking the way Tyson's face would beam when he thought Percy was invulnerable. Not that that was a lie, exactly; Percy could clean up shop if necessary. Their area was full of bad people, and even if he wasn't winning any judo competitions, he could fight in that raw, scrappy way that most kids in the area could.

"Why doesn't Tri just leave if he doesn't like us?" Tyson pouted, pulling on Percy's arm to signal that he wanted to swing. Percy shrugged, lifting his arm to a 90 degree bend and allowing his youngest brother to grab on with both hands, rocking back and forth as Percy started off towards the kitchen. Tyson was only nine, and a surprise to every member of the family.

After Percy was born and dropped with Poseidon, nobody else showed up with a crying baby and smeared mascara for a long time, and Amphirite was absolutely sure that no other bastards were coming to ruin her life further.

Then, suddenly, there he was, with big brown eyes and chestnut hair, looking nothing at all like Poseidon. Amphirite thought the woman who delivered the boy must have been seriously shitting them, I mean, look at it, it doesn't seem like you at all! After all, her husband didn't even remember the encounter from which Tyson had resulted.

Percy could only imagine how happy that made the boy's mother.

Then, though, the resemblance shone through in one telltale way.

Tyson managed to keep the entire apartment from sleeping for almost four months with his incessant cooing, crying, and needy whines. Poseidon got that shine in his eye, the kind that meant that he was almost proud of one of his children for something (because god forbid he was actually proud of them). He was a fussy baby too, apparently. And that meant that Tyson must have been his son.

Amphirite was a wall of frigid fury. Triton, Ephialtes, and Arion turned their backs on the idea of another brother, and Chrysaor was as ambivalent as ever. And Percy? Well, he was saddled with taking care of the baby, even though his eight birthday had just barely passed.

But sometimes, stars can align just so, and good can come from chaos. And one night, while Percy nodded off with his head against the window of the room full of sleeping brothers, Tyson in his arms, a small hand reached out and poked him straight in the eye.

And Percy knew that Tyson had chosen him as his favorite.

Child Services knew the Jackson family well enough. The first time they got involved was when Triton and Ephialtes got into their first physical fight, after which they both sported split lips, ugly black and green bruises crawling across their skin like moss, and attitudes even pissier than usual. That, of course, meant abuse.

In a way, maybe it was.

Percy had never really thought about it that way until later, but Poseidon was right there, and he certainly didn't try to stop them. Just looked around their struggling bodies to watch the whale documentary on the TV. Percy was only five at the time, but the memory had an odd clarity in his mind. Triton came running into the apartment, slammed the door, and shook his head.

"They think we're being abused," he choked out, panting. "The teachers, at school. I think they're gonna send somebody."

Even at that young an age, it was easy to take a slow breath and glance around the apartment, at all of the empty beer cans, some of which left by young Triton and Arion; at stained walls with chipping paint and unfixed holes; towards the bathroom, with more than a few bottles of prescription medication with names that didn't belong to anybody in the apartment. And, inevitably, towards the two bedrooms, one for Poseidon and Amphirite, and the other in complete shambles.

Poseidon looked more inspired than any other time Percy could remember. He chugged the last of the beer in his can, crushed it in one hand, then threw it into the trash. "We've got to clean this shit up."

And they did.

Not once were they charged with abuse or neglect, all because of an innate ability present in the Jackson bloodline - the ability to lie. Percy couldn't even begin to list how many times he'd used it at school; Sorry, Mrs. Thompson, I couldn't do my homework because my brother Triton was hurt very badly yesterday, and I... I just...

He was given homework passes, quiz passes, and the more sympathetic teachers even offered their personal help with his grief. So Percy stayed after class for counseling, then went home and walked past a perfectly healthy Triton, without a hint of remorse.

One thing, one impossible thing, was overlooked.

Child Services, of course, had sister companies that had no age boundaries, and instead involved entire families. And of course, being one of the first names on the 'watch' list meant that the Jacksons were chosen to be part of an experimental new project that paired healthy, normal families with cluster-fucks like them.

"This is insane. I don't understand why I need to be a part of this garbage; I'm an adult," Triton said, putting up a hand and flicking in during both syllables in the word 'adult', as if accentuating them would somehow make the statement true. Arion snorted.

"'I'm an adult'," he mocked with an eye roll. "You contribute nothing to society, and can't even to a load of laundry right. If you're an adult, I'm dating Zoe Hesperide." The insults flooded off of Triton's shoulders as they were apt to do, and Percy glanced anxiously at his father's eyes.

(Percy liked to imagine that, in the past, Poseidon's eyes used to change like his. Maybe when he only had Triton, Amphirite, and a good apartment for a three member family. Maybe when he was his age, maybe when he was a young boy. When, he didn't know, but at some point Poseidon had been alive.)

The smack of Poseidon's calloused, ring-laden hand against their cheap wooden table, hard enough to leave indents behind in the material, yanked his family back into the moment.

"Who are we going to be staying with?" Percy risked, holding eye contact with his father without flinching. His father's eyes reminded him of many things, but two most of all; rugged slate, two dimensional and blank, almost ice covered, and broken glass, sharp and hard to leave behind.

"Hades di Angelo, and his lovely family," Poseidon drawled, the name an echo on his lips. Chrys looked surprised.

"You mean the rich guy who owns half of the world?" He asked with an odd look. A good hyperbole, Percy thought. Quite a shame that Chrys didn't want to pursue writing, the one thing he was good at.

(If Percy knew one thing, it was to stick with what he was good at, not what he dreamed of, shady and uncharted territory.

Which was why he stuck with swimming. There was nothing wrong with swimming, and he was great at it. And that was good enough for him. What else was he going to find that he was good enough at to get comments from coaches telling him he was sure to go onto the Olympics? He knew when dreams were unattainable, and for him, being a marine biologist was just that.)

Percy recognized that name from somewhere, and it wasn't just from the billboards in the city or the labels on nearly everything. He knew it personally, but the context escaped him. Maybe somebody from school? But then, who did he actually talk to at school?

There was Luke Castellan, the captain of the basketball team. He was an incorrigible asshole, but he was an asshole who Percy liked being around and knew from before high school. Thalia Grace was the leader of many off-white extracurricular sports, like discus, archery, and rock climbing, as well as one of the strongest people he knew.

There was also Annabeth Chase, who Percy thought of as his secret best friend. They never spoke in school, but sometimes, an indulgent nod would be shared after looking cautiously in all directions. High school was inherently judgmental, so around her friends, Annabeth thought Percy was an annoying idiot who just can't think for himself, and to Percy, she was a frigid princess that needs to look up from her books and smell the roses.

Outside of school, they got along famously. Their strengths filled each other's gaps to perfection, platonic soulmates to a tee.

Certainly no di Angelo's, unfortunately.

Poseidon took that moment to interrupt Percy's contemplation and leaned forward into the table. "If we can act like a normal family while we're with the di Angelos, then all of this bullshit with these different corporations can end. Understood?" He said. "That means no fighting, no tantrums, nothing out of the ordinary."

"No... fighting?" Ephialtes asked slowly, looking stumped. He was a flickering bulb in any case, but this was revolutionary.

Argument and debate was essential to their lifestyle. Apology was a cardinal sin, and being correct was something to be celebrated to the highest degree. Poseidon believed in a strict code of self-expression, raised by a family who thought that holding oneself back resulted in people too mellow to succeed.

"So... we'll be like spies?" Tyson posed tentatively, and Poseidon nodded.

"Are we together on this?" He asked, and Tyson placed his hand in the middle of the table.

Percy could never say no to his little brother. "Seems like a great idea," he agreed. Arion and Ephialtes tried to put their hands in at exactly the same time, and only a glare was exchanged before Ephialtes put down his hand first and Arion placed his palm a millimeter over it. Immature and obnoxious, Percy thought fondly.

Triton put his hand next, making a big show of rolling his eyes and muttering something about how stupid they all were. Poseidon's eyes closed, and Amphirite grasped his hand and added them to the pile.

"This is a shit plan," she said with an air of finality. "But it's really all we've got."

"So you have no idea who's going to be staying in your house?" Lou said, perfectly sculpted eyebrow raising near her hairline. Lou was gorgeous, by all standards, with dark eyes, dark hair, and plump lips. "You're fucking kidding. Remember to keep us updated, Nicky."

No gum, but he'd been close.

Nico nodded, sipping his drink. He and his close friends were at the local sandwich place, since they had one of the soda machines with 300 different flavors. He was popular enough at school, being tall, rich, and good looking (that was Lou's logic, anyway), but he had few close relationships.

Lou was gorgeous, by all standards. And maybe Nico could date her like everyone at school thought he should if he wasn't gay.

(His classmates didn't know, and if all went well, they never would. His close friends knew and were supportive, and that's what mattered. People liked to say that they're totally not homophobic and it's fine to be gay, but as soon as they're near a person with a sexuality that isn't their own, they're stammering messes.)

"They've got to live in the area, though, right?" Octavian rationalized, looking very much the part of student council president with his dress-shirt sleeves rolled up. "And they have to have family members with ages close to your family's ages. Maybe it's somebody from our school," he said, English accent coming through.

"Oh yeah," Jason replied, looking up from the English reading he was supposed to complete three days prior but put off due to football practice. "Somebody in the area with kids. There's little to no chance that they're from our school; the improbability is too great."

Octavian rolled his eyes and took a large bite of sandwich, unable to come up with a good rebuttal. Lou, though, happened to have a great one.

"Little to no chance, maybe, but still a chance. So, who could it be from Goode?" She posed, slipping her iPhone into her hand and opening the note app to copy down any particularly good guesses.

"What about those kleptomaniac twins?" Octavian asked, looking annoyed. "They tried to screw with my campaign last year."

"The Stolls?" Lou confirmed, watching Octavian nod slowly. "They're not twins. Travis is actually a year older than Connor, even thought they're damn near identical. I'll put them down. It would make sense, I guess; Hazel's a year younger than you, right, Nico?"

"Yeah," Nico said, thinking about what living with Travis and Connor would be like. "Anyone else?"

An entire list later, Nico still felt no better. In his mind, there was something missing, somebody that he wanted to place. Somebody in his mind that he knew belonged on the list. But he couldn't find them.

-o0o-

"Your laughing is much appreciated, buddy," Percy said wryly, punching Luke in the arm weakly. He was annoyed, but not enough to actually hurt somebody (he did not have anger issues, despite what his previous school guidance counselors may say).

"I'm sorry," the blond lied, wiping his watery eyes. "But I just can't imagine your family living with the fuckin' di Angelos."

"Wait," Annabeth interrupted, looking up from the couch. "The di Angelos? Why didn't you start with that! The di Angelo kids go to our school. Well, two do - Nico and Hazel. Hazel's in our grade," she said with a look of disapproval. "How don't you remember them, Perce?"

"I think the real problem child here is you, Annie," Thalia argued. "There was a whole group message going on with this in it," she said, waving her phone to accentuate the point. Annabeth rolled her eyes.

"Please. As if I check that; none of you know when to stop, and I value my sanity above all else," she scolded, making Luke scratch the back of his neck sheepishly.

They were in Luke's room, medium sized and crammed with furniture. Luke lounged on his sunken bed, and Thalia and Annabeth shared his small couch, tangled together comfortably. Percy had spread himself out on the ground, enjoying the feeling of a magazine hitting the small of his back. It was nice and cool.

"God, Percy. You're the captain of the Goode High Swim Team, and it isn't like Nico's invisible to any degree. He may not do any sports, but people still love his 'charisma' or 'bad boy looks' or something like that," Annabeth explained, a fake look of disappointment on her face. Thalia clicked her tongue.

Percy, for his part, covered his face with his hands in dramatic agony. "Somehow, my worst case scenario is coming to life before my eyes," he said sarcastically, withholding a groan. "Not only is my goddamn wreck of a family going to be seen by somebody at school, they're going to be seen by somebody well known at school. Amazing."

"I thought you said you had a plan," Luke said, propelling himself off of his bed slightly to jab Percy's arm with his foot.

Percy considered. "I worry about the probability that we'll mess that up," he admitted. "You guys know my family; restraint isn't a strong suit, and we only have two days to practice."

"Two days?" Annabeth seemed alarmed. "That sounds like way too short a notice to be legal."

"The letter was sent earlier, but we only check our P.O. box once every two weeks, since nobody wants to go do it," Percy groaned.

"Well hey, good luck," Thalia said. "At least you still have us, your great friends!"

Percy traced patterns in Luke's ceiling with his eyes and steeled his nerves.