Summary: It was ironic, it was unbelievable, it was simply absurd, but Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, Ghost King, was absolutely terrified of... ghosts. / Because even a child of Hades gets scared sometimes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

Don't Listen

When you were a son of Hades, you were never truly alone.

Nico di Angelo often liked to lock himself in his cabin and stay there until it was dinnertime. The other kids at camp thought he was scary, crazy, or even creepy, but that didn't bother him as much as it did before; since no one really wanted to talk to him unless absolutely necessary, he always had a lot of free time to himself, alone in his room.

However, he soon discovered that even closed doors and walls, which were successfully and efficiently able to block people out, couldn't keep everything from coming through.

And those just happened to be the most unwanted things—insects, dust, cold air, and spirits.

People have always told Nico that he was good at walking silently on old, wooden floorboards; that he always scared the hell out of them because he liked to sneak up on people. That was not true. It wasn't like he wanted to be so pale that he looked like a ghost, it wasn't like he wanted to be able to walk into a room filled with dozens of people who don't even spare him a second glance when he entered. And if they saw the things that frightened him, they would all be glad that the only thing they get scared of is a fourteen-year-old-boy.

Because of course Nico got scared sometimes too. Everyone, for some odd reason that he still couldn't quite figure out, thought that just because they were scared of him, he'd have to be invincible—fearless. Spiders were just as scared of wasps as little girls were scared of them; tall buildings were just as scared of earthquakes as people are of heights; and Nico was just as scared of ghosts—real ghosts—as the other campers were scared of him.

It was ironic, it was unbelievable, it was simply absurd, but Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, Ghost King, was absolutely terrified of... ghosts.

It made no sense, not even to dark-haired boy himself. Bianca would laugh at him. If people found out about this, he would never be taken seriously again. But no matter how hard he tried to block them out, to accept the fact that he was the only one who could hear them, to embrace them with open arms like he should, he always found himself underneath his blanket, rolled up into a ball, shaking and hoping that they would just leave him alone.

On this particular night, a woman floated above Nico's bed, gesturing wildly to get his attention because she knew that he could see her and she knew he could hear her, and she knew, just like all the other ghosts that had attempted to talk to Nico, that he could help her with whatever problems she was having.

At first, the black-haired boy stared at her in utter shock, mouthing hanging open slightly, because she hadn't walked in through the door or even flew in from the window—oh no, that would be too boring; she just simply... appeared.

Nico didn't know if she was doing it on purpose or not, but she had a malicious smile in place that made him want to do nothing more than break through the wall beside him and run away as she reached out to him, her long, yellow fingernails nearing his face. Like every other kid, the boy brought up his blanket and held it up in front of him, as if using the soft fabric as a shield.

The woman was speaking to him, her high-pitched eerie voice ringing loudly in his ears, but he wanted nothing to do with her. He shut his eyes tightly, waiting for what seemed like eternity for her to give up and leave.

Don't listen to her, he recited to himself like he did every time a ghost came to talk to him. She can't hurt you. Just ignore her and she'll be gone before you know it.

She was pleading now, begging him to hear her out (don't listen), explaining how he was the only person who could understand her (don't listen), promising him that she would return the favour soon.

Don't listen, don't listen, don't—

And the voice stopped. Nico raised his head and saw that the woman was gone, replaced with nothing but a wonderful silence. He glanced around the room and when he noticed that nothing was out-of-place, he rested back on his bed, relief flooding throughout his body, and he fell asleep.

-xXx-

The next day, it was quiet.

Normally, that would've been just fine with Nico, but this time, he was standing in the middle cafeteria with a plate of food, trying to find a place to sit, and there was no sound to be heard at all. Nothing. He would see the plates drop onto the ground, forks and knives clatter on the table, and the campers' mouths would move, but he couldn't hear anything.

It was scary, it was horrifying, it was downright frightening, and it was then that realization struck him.

Nico di Angelo had stopped listening altogether.

A/N: Just something that came to mind. Tell me what you think!

~Madin456.