Ok, before we begin, I would like your attention and a bit of your good will, because I have three things to inform:

1) Disclaimer: Percy Jackson does not belong to me. Neither does Nico or anyone here. Sadly.

2) I've started a Percy Jackson Forum called Through the Mist, since some of the ones I saw weren't updated in a long time and they didn't really try to spark interest on their public. I hope I can change that and bring people to discuss our favorite fandom again.

3) This third one is actually a request. I'm looking for people to Beta Read my works. Not only my Percy Jackson works, but also my Harry Potter ones. Please, PM me if anyone is interested. I'm accepting more than one person.

Now, to the story!

Do you? by larissa

The language of friendship is not words, but meanings.

Henry David Thoreau

Percy scowled. "I—I know you."

Of course you do, Nico di Angelo thought, feeling something stir in his chest.

For the past eight months he'd waited, looking around as much as he could in order to find his lost friend ― cousin. After Jason's appearance, he'd realized it wouldn't be taking much longer for Percy to find his way to Camp Jupiter.

In a way, those past months had been hell.

Although Nico wasn't the most empathetic guy out there, he wasn't heartless. He had seen Annabeth's despair, and Chiron's worry, and even Thalia's silent concern. He'd understood something was happening before anyone else, probably because of his close contact to the Underworld and death itself.

For some time, he had been anxious about Percy's whereabouts. The son of Poseidon was somewhat of the camp's golden boy and they had fought together, won together. It was a sort of bond you couldn't just break. Strange things were going to happen and Nico felt as if he needed his cousin with him in order to make it through.

They had gone through so much already. It just felt wrong.

Percy had been the first to pay him any kind of attention, trying to help him get settled after his sister was accepted as a Huntress. Nico knew, even then, that his mind was elsewhere, with Annabeth in her captivity, but his effort had been enough then.

It was more than enough now.

Percy had tried his best to protect Bianca, in spite of himself. Nico understood this now. He didn't then and it pained him to remember those horrible times with Midas. He'd been so alone and unconsequential that nothing seemed to make him comprehend how unattainable his plans really were.

"They let my sister die!"Nico's voice trembled with rage. "They're here to kill me!"

Annabeth and Percy had rescued him from himself.

And this was how he repaid them, by allowing Hera to toy with their lives. Sometimes he felt like such a coward, always abiding to his father's every wish.

No, not always.

His father hadn't known about the plan he and Percy had devised in the previous years. Not even Hades had been able to stop his son from appearing on the Jacksons' house, only to be invited in for a piece of birthday cake.

"Come inside for some cake and ice cream," I said. "It sounds like we've got a lot to talk about."

The first blue birthday cake he had ever eaten. The first birthday cake he had ever eaten, at that.

Nico could still remember how kind Sally Jackson had been, offering him everything she could think of, specially after he'd let slip he was somewhat of a cousin of her son. Paul Blofis was, of course, very confused, since he aparently had just found out Tyson was also part of the family.

Despite the oncoming battle and all their worries, he had laughed more on that night than on the previous years, when he and Percy had sat outside the boy's window, eating blue cake and candies, and talking about what a mess of a family they had.

His plan was another matter altogether, though.

Percy had thought it was crazy, there was no way he would be able to pull that off. Hades would stop him. Zeus would have an even bigger reason to want him dead. Kronos would never allow it to happen. All of Poseidon's power wouldn't be able to stop the forces that would try to stop him before he and Nico got anywhere near the Styx.

The older boy had been overreacting. Everything would be fine as long as no one knew what they were trying to do. And his father... Well, back then, his father wasn't supposed to be of any trouble. Hades was the one that had led his son to create such a plan, he'd been the one asking Nico to bring Percy to the Underworld in exchange of information about his mother.

Nico should have known better. Afterall, it was in his blood to be deceiving.

"I'll make something up." Nico smiled crookedly. "I'm good at that. Go on!"

He knew his father and he knew himself. If he, as a boy, had been able to deceive the son of Poseidon so easily, what would that say about a three thousand years old god of the dead?

Not anything good.

It had been almost unbearable for Nico to see the hurt in Percy's eyes when the Furies caught up to them on the Underworld. Yet, if there was someone that should understand, that someone was Percy, who had thought he'd lost his mother when he was twelve and who had been there with Bianca when she died.

Percy, who had never shown him anything but kindness.

(Well, most of the times.)

Later, in his room, Nico had exploded. In his anger, he'd destroyed half of all the things he had. Unsatisfied, he's also started developing a plan to get Percy out of his father's grasp.

Truth be told, he should have thought about it a bit more, taking in consideration how horribly tired the whole shenanigan had made him. And how awfully moody Percy was when being awakened. The asphyxiation thing, though, probably had more to do with the fact that Nico was the reason why the son of Poseidon had been thrown into Hades' dungeon, in the first place.

What had come then was a remembrance full of mixed feelings. Nico knew that Percy was risking everything when he jumped on the Styx and it both frustrated and gladdened him that his cousin trusted him so much after what they'd just been through.

Reason why it bothered him that Percy wouldn't let him go with him back to the world of the living, into the fight. No, he was obligated to stay and try to convince his father to help. It wasn't an easy task and he knew the kind of anger he'd have to endure in order to get the stubborn god to do anything other than sit on his throne and wait.

It hadn't been easy.

Hades was, like any other Olympian, very secure of himself and very suspicious of everyone else. In his rage, though, he could become quite vicious. Nico still remembered the maddened look on his father's eyes. A look that probably only a son of that same darkness could sustain without succumbing to insanity.

After Nico saw what had happenned to his mother, they's spent a long time in silence, measuring each other. Something that the Di Angelo boy had learnt in his time in the Underworld was that you couldn't provoke Hades. You had to let him come to you, in spite of how urgent the situation at hand was.

The next few hours were filled in hard words and many attempts on Hades' part of evading his son. All of the boy's arguments were brushed aside by his father, who continued to pretend as if there were more important matters to be taken in consideration.

There weren't.

Hades roared in anger. His fireball hit a silver tree right next to Nico, melting it into a pool of liquid metal.

Nico had said the wrong thing then ― or maybe just the right one ―, and the room had gone quiet, as if even the souls knew better than to disturb the new found silence. Persephone, as it turned out, didn't, because she let out a low growl, before muttering about how she hated the boy's means but admired how awfully brave he was showing himself to be.

It had been strange to watch Hades cave into his pleas, but the thrill of finally receiving some sort of respect from his father was too much for him to ruin it by pointing out that he'd been able to convince a god.

And so, they'd left the Underworld, an army of the dead following their lead.

Even so many months later, Nico still couldn't shake the pride he'd felt then, walking the streets of New York with his army and his ― hm... ― family. He knew that it had been a huge risk to take, facing Kronos like he had. Yet, it had been so satisfying to watch the titan's reactions to his words, the regard in Hades' eyes.

"Son of Hades." Kronos spit on the ground. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"

"Your death," Nico said, "would be great for me."

"I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live."

Nico drew his sword — three feet of wicked sharp Stygian iron, black as a nightmare. "I don't agree."

The fight itself, though, was a blur. There'd been so many monsters, so many things to consider while in the middle of it all. Sally Jackson, Paul Blofis, Rachel Dare... Mortals that shouldn't be there but were, whose safety he'd decided to ensure, mostly because of Percy, partly because of his own principles.

And, then, it was over. They had finally done it.

In spite of all they'd seen, all they'd lost, the battle had been won. Everyone seemed so happy then, so proud of what they had accomplished, that no one dared to think about what was gone. Nico knew things wouldn't be like that forever. Time would pass and they would remember all the people that weren't there anymore, and that would rip them apart.

Still, as a son of Hades and as someone that had lost so much already, the boy knew the rest of the half-bloods would be fine. Time would also cure their wounds, and their sorrow would become their strenght.

Things had changed, of course. The fight had brought them all together, in a way. They shared the same losses, the same victory, the same pain. Nico, for the first time in so long, felt as if he belonged to something, because he wasn't the only one hurting. And, in time, they would all heal. Together.

The fates, though, could be very cruel.

He was the first to know something was wrong. Nico's presence in the Underworld had enabled him to know much more than his colleagues at camp, since he was in direct contact with the changes on his father's reign. He'd seen as it all begun and, in spite of his ethic, had tried to take advantage of it.

Just when Nico thought he had started to make peace with Bianca's death, something like the doors of death opening made him realize he hadn't.

Finding Hazel and getting her to Camp Jupiter was the easy part. Coping with the existence of that second camp... Not so much.

It wasn't as if he hadn't known the gods had these two sides. Spending all that time with his father, he was used to the changes in appearance and behavior, though Nico had never cared enough to try and understand what it meant. Yet, when faced with Camp Jupiter, he'd had to proccess the fact that romans and greeks coexisted, completely unaware of each other.

And, then, he'd become the Ambassador of Pluto.

It wasn't easy to be around the romans. They were much more strict than the greek demigods, much more serious also. Again, Nico felt like an outsider. Always underestimated or feared, never cared for. People there were so preoccupied about status and connexions... It bothered him to think of leaving Hazel there, alone. The girl had been kinder to him than anyone he'd ever met, and it wasn't difficult to like her for that.

Nor to start thinking of her as his sister.

The son of Hades felt guilty about not telling her the truth about who he was and, now, about who Percy Jackson was, but she'd learn soon enough, on the right time. Hazel wouldn't be terribly glad with him and neither would Percy, but it was a risk he would have to take. Another thing he'd learned on the Underworld: do not mess with the gods' business.

If Hera ― or Juno ― thought Percy shouldn't know about his past, then she had a reason to. Nico could understand, in a way. The boy had been there for nine months and knowing the existence of the greeks, knowing he was a greek, had been one of the main reasons he couldn't fit in. He didn't want to, because there were much better places to belong to than that one.

At least, for him.

Percy would have to find his way, and Nico had absolutely no doubt he would. The son of Poseidon was a hero, someone so genuinely good that no one could dislike him for long. He was the kind of person that believed he could do anything if he wanted it enough. So much so that the people around him started to believe as well.

Still, this wasn't Percy Jackson.

Percy Jackson was what his experiences had made him. He was insolent, inconsequential, funny and loyal to a fault. He was the kind of guy you would want by your side, just because. Percy would do and say stupid things, he would crack a joke on the middle of a battle, he would take his friends in consideration before himself. He would never forget the people he loved.

So, no. Until he remembered his past, this wasn't Percy Jackson and Nico didn't know him.

Nico raised his eyebrows. "Do you?"

Hey! I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. This story hasn't been beta read yet, so please inform any mistakes. And reviews are incredibly welcomed, thank you very much!