When he'd said he was never coming back, Nico had meant it. He'd seen his mission and promises out of course; made sure the Athena Parthenos was safely delivered. Waited until it was clear that Gaea was defeated and everyone was safe (as safe as demigods can ever be at least) and then he'd bolted. Jason had predictably tried to intervene but Nico was an expert at disappearing; his one pseudo-friend hadn't stood a chance at stopping him. Nico di Angelo was gone before the victory celebrations had really started and he hadn't looked back. He'd slipped erratically from shadow to shadow, on no set course and without attention to direction. When he stopped he didn't know what state he was in, or even if he'd left the country. He preferred it that way. If he didn't even know where he was, what were the chances anyone else could find him?

Not that anyone would have gone looking, anyway.

...Or so he thought.

His voluntary ostracism lasted three years.

Three years, four months and 27 days—not that he was counting.

(Okay, so maybe he was counting but really, what else was there to do when you were living alone in a derelict cabin on the fringe of a town too small and forgotten to even have its own post office? Nico had to do something to kill the time.)

He still spent a fair amount of time in the underworld, but not quite as much as he would have preferred. The Underworld was after all, where people expected him to go. The idea of being that pathetically predictable irritated him. Never mind that it didn't actually matter if he were predictable since no one would bother trying to find him there. It was the principle of the thing.

His principles were pretty much the only thing he had left, after all. He was utterly alone. Alone alone, and that's exactly what he wanted. Well, it's what he wanted second to that other thing he wanted, the topic-off-limits-thing, the thing that he didn't even let himself abstractly think about because contrary to how he might look to outsiders, Nico wasn't a masochist. There was no point in letting himself dwell on stuff that only hurt. He had better things to do. Like pace aimlessly around his predominately empty cabin. Fight the occasional monster that showed up. And concoct more and more elaborate ways to tally his increasingly long list of days spent alone.

Okay, so maybe he didn't have the healthiest way of coping with things, but at least he was coping.

He sensed the intruder long before the knock. It wasn't often that anything living larger than a bird came within fifty feet of him. (Other than monsters of course, but they gave off an entirely different vibe than mortals or demigods; he could tell the difference a long way off.) Nico was very in tune with his sparse surroundings and noticed immediately that a demigod was approaching.

He considered disappearing. There was no shortage of shadows in the surrounding room and he could easily vanish before whoever it was out there so much as had a chance to set foot on the doorstep (which sported a very bold 'Not Welcome' mat...installed primarily for Nico's own amusement since he didn't expect any callers and none ever came—until today.)

He hesitated though. He was in his own house, wasn't he? (Sure it was technically an abandoned old junk heap that he was more squatting in than legal owner of, but still, he was the one currently taking care of this place.) He shouldn't have to run away. And he'd made it very clear he didn't want anything to do with anyone. Whoever had come to bother him deserved an earful. There would be something very satisfying in slamming the door in the face of whoever was out there.

(If he were honest with himself he'd acknowledge that having the chance to slam his door in the face of one of his old...acquaintances...is something he'd downright longed to do. But Nico wasn't all that great at being honest with himself, even now.)

He convinced himself that he was opening the door merely to ensure that whoever was out there would know to never come back. If he ran they might persistently keep trying to track him down. That would certainly be a bother. He just had to make sure his intentions were clear so that he could go back to his very important solitude. He certainly wasn't opening the door because he actually wanted to see whoever was out there. That was just crazy.

He swung the door open dramatically, expecting to find some camper he didn't know, but probably someone carrying a message from Jason, or maybe (just maybe, but probably not) Hazel. Or barring a half-blood, possibly a term life insurance salesman (wouldn't that be ironic, Nico might have even enjoyed telling one of those off.)

Really, he would have guessed pretty much anyone except who he found there.

He should have run.

"Uh..." His well rehearsed 'go away' died on his lips.

Percy didn't say anything.

Nico's grip tightened on the doorknob. He knew already though that he wasn't going to slam it. He couldn't—and not because it was Percy standing in the door. Under normal circumstances Percy Jackson would have been the top of his list of people whose face he would have absolutely loved to slam a door in (not because he honestly thought Percy deserved it, just because it would have felt great, and there weren't a whole lot of things that made Nico feel particularly good anymore. For all the crud he'd been dealt in his life, he felt he deserved that one small gratification.)

The problem was, the young man standing on Nico's novelty 'Not Welcome' mat wasn't Percy. Not the proper Percy. Not the Percy who'd rescued him as a kid or the Percy he'd thought failed his sister or even the more battered but triumphant Percy he'd seen climb out of Tartarus. He would have recognized the life force of that Percy before he'd opened the door (of course then he probably wouldn't have opened the door at all—he definitely would have bolted.) This person didn't feel like the right Percy any more than he looked like him. This was just some zombie-like shade that sort of vaguely resembled Percy, but couldn't possibly be the real one. This person was too broken to be Percy Jackson. And Percy Jackson wasn't breakable. If there was one thing Nico had ever had any faith in it was that.

Except.

Well, except.

There was one scenario that Nico could imagine which might prove that conviction fallible.

It was too awful to consider, but the second the thought crossed his mind, Nico knew exactly what must of happened. There was only one thing that would make someone look like that. Nico knew, because he'd seen the same haunted expression in his own reflection more times than he could count.

And just like that he knew why Percy was here.

"I can't help you," he snapped.

It came out meaner than he'd meant it to, but Nico was panicking. Even given the circumstances—caught between the warring instincts to shove Percy away and throw his arms out to tackle him in a hug—being caustic still seemed like the safer course of action.

Percy either expected Nico's reaction, or was too far lost on autopilot to react to the animosity. He was unblinkingly silent for a moment, and then said, "You're the only person who can help me."

"You only think I can help you," Nico retaliated, voice dropping to a hiss (he was paranoid about the wrong sets of ears overhearing a conversation like this, never mind the fact that he didn't have a single neighbor to overhear.) "I can't. You're wrong. I'm the last person who can help you right now, Percy. Go back to camp. Be with your friends. Go see your mom. Or a therapist. Go away."

There, he finally said it. Too bad he didn't mean it.

"I need you."

And wasn't that the kicker. Just how many years had Nico longed to hear exactly that phrase come from exactly that mouth? It didn't matter that not-really-Percy's voice was flat and emotionless as he said the words. That he knew what Percy really meant was 'I need your abilities' and not 'I need my friend: Nico di Angelo'. It didn't matter. That one simple sentence was still an effective sledgehammer to Nico's carefully constructed wall. He slumped against the doorframe.

"You look terrible," he muttered, waving Percy inside. "You might as well eat something before I throw you out."

He didn't mean that of course, and he knew it. He only said it because really, that's probably what Percy expected him to say. Not to mention he was slightly afraid that if he didn't say something Percy would be able to hear the hammering of his jacked up traitorous heart over the silence. He couldn't even tell if it was hammering out of anticipation of bad news, or just because his former (okay, not actually former, more like ongoing, never mind the three year hiatus) crush was standing twelve inches away from him.

He was so pathetic.

Percy shuffled inside, allowing Nico to steer him into a chair. He sat there vacantly while Nico backed into the kitchen.

With a thick wooden door between him and Percy, Nico allowed himself to properly freak out.

He paced around the small room, opening cupboards as he went despite the fact that he knew they were all pretty much empty and he wasn't going to find anything in them.

Percy Jackson is in my house, thought Nico hysterically. Percy came to find me. Percy needs me.

There was only one topic anyone ever wanted Nico's help with. People came to Nico when someone was dead.

People only looked like Percy did right now when someone important was dead. Someone more important than anyone else.

Someone like Annabeth.

"Oh gods," moaned Nico under his breath. "This sucks."

He put a kettle on the stove and turned it on, intending to make tea. Not that Nico was big on drinking tea or anything, it just seemed like the appropriate thing to do at a time like this. But then of course Nico remembered that he didn't actually own any tea (attributed to that whole not being really big on drinking it thing) and turned the stove off again. He grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and set it on a tray.

"Hm," he said, staring hard at the tray's lone occupant. He turned back to the fridge. Unfortunately that can of coke had been pretty much the only thing in his fridge, aside from a half empty bottle of ketchup that probably carbon dated back to the cretaceous period. He tried the freezer. It was marginally more fruitful, revealing a bag of freezer-burned peas and some frozen blueberries.

"Huh," said Nico staring into the frozen abyss. His hand hovered in the open door for a moment before a distant memory of an interlude at Percy's mom's apartment guided him to grab the fruit. He poured some blueberries into a bowl and plopped it on the tray next to the soda. On another day he might have actually tried defrosting them before serving them to a guest, but Nico was still a bit distracted by his frenzied thought loop of 'Oh gods, Annabeth's dead.' Besides, he'd never gotten around to acquiring a microwave.

He caught his reflection in the aluminum bottom of the tray in his hands—the hollow, exhaustion-ringed eyes gazing back at him did not belong to a face that someone would go to for comfort. He already knew that wasn't why Percy was here though. Percy was here to ask him to bring Annabeth back. And that was something Nico couldn't do. And Percy knew that. But he was going to ask anyway, because grief trumped common sense. Grief trumped pretty much everything. Nico knew that better than anyone. Percy was here to do exactly what Nico would do in his place. Hell, what Nico had already attempted.

Percy was going to ask and Nico was going to have to tell him no.

And as certain as Nico was that he couldn't bring Annabeth back, he was almost equally certain that he couldn't say 'no' to Percy Jackson.

Gods this sucked.

Nico glanced down at his reflection again. You're the son of Hades, he reminded himself. You're the freaking Ghost King. You can handle saying no to Percy.

He steeled his nerve and pushed back through the door.

"Uh, you caught me between grocery trips," Nico muttered apologetically as he dropped the tray in front of Percy. "I wasn't expecting company. Sorry."

Cue smart-ass comment from Percy about how Nico had probably never set foot in a grocery store in his entire life. Cue joke about how he better start eating more because he looks like the living dead. Cue any reaction at all.

Percy just stared at the wall.

Nico pushed the tray a little closer, kind of distantly hoping Percy would notice that he remembered his whole weird hang-up about blue food. Nico got no reaction.

"So." Nico coughed uncomfortably. "Tell me what happened to her."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Believe me, you and me both, thought Nico. He kept that comment to himself though. Instead he said, "If you're about to ask me what I think you're here to ask me, you owe me details."

A silent staring match ensued. It didn't last long though. Nico could out-stare anyone; it was what he usually did instead of talking to people. Even under good circumstances Percy wouldn't have stood a chance. In this shattered state it only took minutes for his desperation-tinged eyes to dart away and his head to tilt towards the table.

"Accident," mumbled Percy.

"Really?" Nico couldn't mask the surprise in his voice. He'd expected to hear 'manticore' or 'vengeful titan' or pretty much anything that was unique to the dangerous lifestyle forced upon demigods. 'Accident' was far too mundane a word to have gotten the best of Annabeth Chase. Maybe it was an 'accident with a gorgon' or something.

"Yeah," confirmed Percy, voice almost cracking as the veil of disengagement finally broke. His blank stare had gone wild as he turned his eyes back to Nico. "A blazing accident. It wasn't even anybody's fault! There's no bad guy. Just a weakened cross beam and Anna—" his voice choked as he tried to say her name, "—beth standing in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Oh," said Nico. There really wasn't anything else he could think to say. 'I'm sorry to hear that' didn't quite cut it.

"She was killed by a building!" said Percy hysterically. "Is that supposed to be some kind of sick joke?"

Probably, thought Nico. But instead he said, "Life and death aren't fair. It sucks. Believe me it sucks. But they're not."

(And this is the point where if Nico were someone else he'd have crossed the gap and hugged Percy, or at least put a hand on his shoulder—offered some sort of comforting gesture that normal people do when they see someone they care about breaking. But Nico wasn't someone else and he'd sort of forgotten how to even pretend to be normal. He was too afraid to touch Percy, even when it would be clear that his intentions were purely out of sympathy and not because— Nico abruptly cut off that thought.)

"We saved the world twice," continued Percy. "Something like that shouldn't have happened to someone like her."

"No," agreed Nico.

"And she—" Percy choked. "—I mean I—" His eyes went unfocused and he seemed to lose his train of thought. "I can't even get revenge. There's nothing I can do about it."

Nico nodded. "It wouldn't have made you feel better. I say that from experience."

"I need your experience." Percy finally cut to the chase.

"No you don't."

"Please." Percy directed red-rimmed tear stained eyes at Nico. "Please, Nico. Help me bring her back."

"I can't," said Nico quickly.

"You brought Hazel ba—"

"You know the circumstances with that," Nico quickly interrupted him. "That wasn't anything I did. The Doors of Death were already open. And they're closed now. You know that. You know that better than anyone."

Percy opened his mouth and Nico cut him off again.

"And don't even think of suggesting we open them again. I swear I'll punch you."

"I've seen you bring people back from the dead," Percy said instead. "You do it all the time."

"As skeletons and ghosts!" said Nico. "If I did that Annabeth would be a zombie."

Percy didn't say anything.

"You don't want me to do that," insisted Nico. "Annabeth sure as heck wouldn't want me to do that."

"Don't pretend you have any idea what Annabeth would want," muttered Percy darkly. "You haven't even been around."

That stung.

"And you shouldn't pretend you have any idea what the dead would want," retorted Nico. "Being dead—it's—different. She's not going to be the same Annabeth."

"She'll always be the same Annabeth."

Ironic, hearing him claim that when right this moment he wasn't even the same Percy.

"No." Nico tried to be firm. "She won't."

"Even in Tartarus she was the same Annabeth," Percy persisted. "The Underworld can't change her more than there."

"She was still alive in Tartarus," Nico pointed out. "It's not the place. It's the state."

"But Hazel—" Percy started again.

"—Is a child of Pluto," said Nico. "The rules affect her differently. That's how I found her, you know. She was different from all the other souls down there. She glaringly stood out. Death didn't affect her the same way."

"But—"

"Annabeth isn't Hazel," he reiterated harshly.

"You could talk to your dad—" Percy suggested pathetically.

Nico didn't mean to, but he started to laugh. There was no humor in it, but he just couldn't stop himself. It was just such a terrible idea. Did Percy really think he hadn't tried something like that already? Did he really even for a second think something like that would work? Staring at Percy now, Nico was reminded of his own very desperate self all those years ago. And that was just surreal. Percy was...well he was Percy Jackson. Golden Child. Fulfiller of prophecies. Always-saves-the-day-guy. The smiling, always positive, too-nice-to-be-real guy. Percy was perfect. He shouldn't have ever had anything in common with someone like Nico di Angelo. This was just too messed up.

"Uh, Percy, think about that for a second," he said. "If something like that actually worked, don't you think that Bianca and my mom would still be around?"

Percy didn't say anything.

"He wouldn't break the rules for his own daughter. And she was his favorite. He's not going to make an exception for Annabeth."

"But we could at least ask," persisted Percy. "Maybe we can think of a reason that-"

"No," said Nico. "That won't work. Percy—"

"We have to try."

"No. Percy. It'll probably just make him mad. He kind of hates you, remember? Bothering dad could make everything worse."

"It couldn't get worse than this."

"Oh, it could get a lot worse."

"Nothing could possibly be worse than being separated from Annabeth."

Nico narrowed his eyes. This was turning into the worst day he'd had since...since freaking Croatia. He was sorry about Annabeth. He really was. He might have been jealous of her, but he still regarded her pretty highly. And he certainly hadn't ever wanted anything bad to happen to her. That didn't mean though that he could handle much more of Percy smearing in his face just how happy the two of them had been together in their blissfully picturesque power-couple relationship. He couldn't deal with this. He'd left town for a reason.

"Look," he said, very cautiously. "Percy. I know this is awful. I know exactly how you're—" Oops, wrong thing to say.

He knew better than to have said that. It was always the wrong thing to say.

"No you don't," snapped Percy automatically. "You have no idea how I'm feeling. This isn't the same at all. You've never had—"

Nico's already narrowed eyes hardened into murderous slits. A floorboard cracked.

Percy stopped midsentence. Not because he'd noticed just how angry Nico suddenly was and self preservation had kicked in—no, apparently he'd been struck by a small epiphany.

"Oh I get it," he announced, oblivious to the suddenly dangerous atmosphere in the room. "Annabeth was totally right."

"About...what?" Nico all but hissed. He knew he wasn't going to like the answer but he had to ask.

"About you."

Another floorboard cracked. Percy didn't seem to notice.

"You're in love with her too," said Percy in a far too confident voice.

Outside several bushes died, but Percy couldn't see that.

"You're mistaken." Nico's voice was dangerously quiet.

"Is that why you're refusing to help me?" Percy recklessly plowed on. "If she's in the Underworld, you'll be able to still see her but I won't. You'll have her all to yourse—"

Nico punched Percy harder than he'd ever hit anyone or anything. He didn't look back to make sure his friend was okay before plunging into the nearest shadow.

Nico immediately regretted it. Well, as soon as his head cleared enough to think straight, he regretted it. First he repeatedly pummeled the nearest wall until his fist was bloody. That was the real reason he'd run away; Percy wouldn't have escaped with a single strike if Nico hadn't put serious distance between them. He was probably in another time zone now.

Nico swayed on his feet, dizzy from the exertion of a lengthy jump mixed with a very unpleasant cocktail of emotions. He closed his eyes and clutched his stomach.

This…was a nightmare.

It was bad enough that he'd just learned that he'd lost one of his almost-friends. (He probably should have been aware of her death immediately when it had happened, but Nico had gotten into the habit of deliberately not tuning in to her.)

It was bad enough that pretty much the most important person in his life had just proved that they had no reason to bother with seeing him unless they needed to use him.

It was bad enough that he'd just had to endure the thing he'd run away from being rubbed in his face.

But did Percy really think so low of him to actually believe that Nico would refuse to help save someone's life for the sake of stealing his girlfriend?

Of course he thinks you'd do that, nagged Nico's insecurity. You've given him tons of reasons not to trust you. And it's not like you've ever been honest to him about your feelings.

He felt like he was going to throw up. He probably would have, actually, but there wasn't any food in his stomach to lose. Nico hadn't remembered to eat anything recently.

"Percy's not thinking clearly," Nico said aloud, trying to convince himself. "That wasn't really Percy talking. He didn't mean that."

He frowned, thinking back on just how wrecked Percy had looked. That had definitely not been 'normal Percy.' For the first time he wondered what else Percy might have gone through in the three years since he'd last seen him. Annabeth's death might have been only the most recent in a long string of hardships. He really had no idea. As Percy had pointed out, Nico hadn't been around.

Would things have possibly turned out differently somehow if he hadn't left?

Dangerous line of thought, di Angelo.

Nico sat down long enough to let the dizziness pass. Then he stepped into the nearest shadow. He had some errands to run.

Percy really hated waking up. He only ever had bad dreams since…the incident. But those bad dreams were better than waking up. There was always that split second where you're disorientated from sleeping and your memory hasn't kicked in yet. For a fractional moment you almost feel rested and calm. You're relieved that the dreams were just dreams. And then the gears start turning again and the crushing reality of knowing descends. No bad dream was as bad as the cleaving knowledge Percy was doomed to wake up to. He never wanted to get out of bed once his memory returned. There was no point in getting up if Annabeth wasn't there.

Today though, the temptation to stay in bed wasn't quite as strong as usual. This bed was a bit less soft than the one he was used to. It felt weird. He wasn't in his own room.

Percy sat up and the abrupt movement made him wince in pain. His cheek was throbbing. He gingerly reached up and felt a substantial welt under his left eye.

What the heck had happened?

He carefully scoped out his surroundings: dark grey sheets pooled around him, peeking out from beneath a black duvet. There were light blocking curtains over the windows. A very realistic framed oil painting of a skull hung over the bed. There was really not more than one option of whose room he could possibly be in.

Nico.

Nico is what had happened.

Nico was nowhere to be seen. He must have slept in the other room—which seemed kind of weird. Nico had looked downright murderous the last Percy had seen him. Why would he bother giving Percy his bed if he were mad enough to punch Percy's lights out? He ought to have woken up on the floor. Or even dumped outside wouldn't have surprised him.

Nico really confused him. And—

—Was something burning?

Percy got out of bed and creaked open the door; cautiously checking to make sure he hadn't just been tricked into an ambush.

There was no one in close proximity, but across the room a dark figure was stooped over the stove. It was muttering a stream of curses mostly in English, but sporadically peppered with random bits of Italian and Greek. Percy didn't know Italian but it was pretty easy to get the gist of what Nico was saying.

Normally he would have announced something like 'good morning' but that didn't quite seem like the right thing to say to someone who had said good night to you with his fist. So for lack of a proper greeting, Percy coughed.

Nico started at the noise, jumping a little in surprise and accidently bringing his hand down on the edge of a cast iron skillet in his attempt to recover. Then he jumped again, this time from the burning metal. The expletives intensified as he dashed to the sink to get his hand under cold water.

"Uh, sorry!" said Percy, feeling genuinely bad for startling Nico.

"I'M FINE." Nico spun around, leaning against the sink, striking a casual pose. He started running his fingers through his hair, only to catch himself and quickly slap that hand down on the counter. A few seconds later his fingers started nervously drumming on the linoleum countertop.

"There's food now," said Nico, gesturing for Percy to sit at the table. "Like actual real food this time."

"Oh." Percy wasn't sure how to react to that.

"Sit," said Nico, waving at the table again. "You didn't eat anything yesterday."

"Um, okay." Percy was still trying to measure how to react. He figured he ought to be mad at Nico right now; he'd punched him after all. And he hadn't agreed to help Percy, which under different circumstances might have been something he'd respect, but these circumstances were too crucial and desperate for Percy to easily accept no for an answer. On the other hand though, Nico seemed to be trying to make up for his bad behavior. And he hadn't explicitly said 'no' yet either. Percy was pretty sure once Nico had officially refused his request the next thing he'd see is a door in his face. The fact that Percy was still here and Nico was cooking him breakfast meant his friend was actually still thinking about it.

Hang on, cooking him breakfast? Nico could cook?

A plate of leathery blackened discs that might at one point in their brief existence made an attempt to be pancakes was dropped on the table in front of Percy.

No. Apparently Nico couldn't cook.

Percy poked at one with a fork. It made a brittle crunching noise. "Thanks," he said, trying to build up the willpower to actually take a bite.

"They were supposed to be blue," muttered Nico as he took a stab at one of the black pancakes on his own plate. "But I used too much food coloring. And then they kind of burned."

Percy took a closer look at the charred mess on his plate. Now that Nico mentioned it, they were sort of a bluish hue of black. Under different circumstances he probably would have smiled at the gesture. He didn't really have that in him right now though, so he just said "Thanks."

"So," said Nico, still stabbing at his own food more than actually eating it.

"Yeah," said Percy, mirroring his actions.

"I can't bring Annabeth back," Nico finally broached the topic again.

Percy opened his mouth to object, to beg, to say anything that might cross his mind to change Nico's.

Nico held up a hand, cutting Percy off.

"But I can help you talk to her," he finished. "I have enough supplies for a summoning now."

"Thank you," said Percy emphatically. For the first time in days he felt a sliver of something like hope. He looked at Nico gratefully.

Nico didn't return the eye contact. "Don't thank me yet. You might not...like the experience as much as you think you will."

"I have to talk to her," Percy insisted.

"I know," sighed Nico. "But you might not like what she says."

"She couldn't possibly say anything that would upset me more than never talking to her again," said Percy.

Nico mumbled something under his breath but Percy couldn't make out what he'd said.

"What?" asked Percy.

Nico's eyes snapped up, examining Percy warily as if to determine if he'd actually heard him or not. Finally he said, "I'm not actually very hungry. Why don't we get started?"

Nico gathered together a bag of groceries and led Percy outside. The last time he'd done a summoning he'd made skeletons dig the hole for him. He was more in control of his powers now though, and all Nico had to do was look at the spot he'd chosen for the summoning and the ground simply opened up for him.

He started chanting in Greek as he opened several cans of soda and a jug of orange juice, pouring them into the hole. After that he tossed in a few bagels, a carton of egg salad and a ham sandwich. (He had no idea what Annabeth had liked to eat, but the dead weren't usually too picky. He'd just haphazardly grabbed stuff in his frenzied visit to the store.)

He could see Percy holding his breath as he said the final summoning words. "Let the dead taste again. Let them remember."

A translucent apparition of Annabeth Chase glimmered into view.

"Hey Seaweed Brain," she said, smiling affectionately.

"ANNABETH!"

Nico had to reach out and grab Percy to stop him from running right into the hole. Percy immediately came back to himself and halted, remembering that he wouldn't actually be able to touch her. Nico's hand lingered just a few seconds too long on Percy's before he let go. He wiped it on his jeans as if he could erase his awkwardness along with the feel of Percy's skin.

"So," said Annabeth, looking at Percy meaningfully.

"Annabeth," Percy just desperately repeated.

"Really didn't see this coming, did we?" She said. "Kind of lousy, huh?"

"I'm going to fix it," Percy said determinedly.

Nico glared at him.

"I knew you were going to say that," said Annabeth, smiling wistfully. "Look, Percy—"

"I'm going to fix it," Percy repeated forcefully. "Just hang on Annabeth, I'm going to come get you."

"Don't you dare, Lunkhead."

Percy blinked. "What?"

"Don't you even consider for a minute coming down here, Percy. Don't."

"Annabeth...?"

Nico watched as Percy's determination crumbled into confusion.

"You won't make it out again," she said. For the first time she acknowledged Nico's presence, sparing him a glance that conveyed 'hey, back me up here.' Nico nodded.

"I will," Percy insisted. "I've been down there before."

"No you won't," Annabeth countered. "I'm supposed to be here. You're not. If you try to fix this you'll just get stuck here too. You won't make it back out."

Percy's brow furrowed. "I'm okay with that," he said carefully.

"Well I'm not!" exclaimed Annabeth. And for once Nico utterly agreed with her.

"What happened to the only thing mattering is that we're together?" Percy's tone was hurt.

"That didn't extend to it being okay for you to kill yourself!" said Annabeth. "I'm not going anywhere. You'll see me here at the right time. Don't you dare rush."

"I can't—I can't wait that long," argued Percy. "Annabeth—"

"You have to." Annabeth's ghost cut him off. "Percy, I'm okay down here. I really am. You're going to be okay too."

Percy shook his head.

"You are. Nico," she turned back to Nico expectantly, "tell him it's alright."

Nico snorted but didn't say anything.

"Nico!"

Nico crossed his arms and scowled. "I didn't ask to get dragged into this. I'm not going to lie to him."

Annabeth made an exasperated noise. "Not. Helping." She complained.

"Hey I've helped plenty," said Nico pointedly. "But that's cool, you don't have to thank me or anything for letting you guys talk."

Annabeth and Nico glared at each other for a moment. Then she surprised him with "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," mumbled Nico.

Annabeth's ghost took an insubstantial step closer to Percy. "Swear to me on the River Styx that you won't come after me," she said solemnly.

Percy was silent.

"Percy! Swear," she pleaded.

"I can't promise that," said Percy.

"I need you to!" Annabeth's voice grew desperate.

"And I need you," Percy said equally desperately.

"No." Annabeth said forcefully. "You don't."

Nico watched as Percy's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"I love you Seaweed Brain," she added quickly. "But this isn't good for you. I should go."

"Wait—"

Annabeth blinked out of view before Percy could finish his objection.

Percy stood shell-shocked for several minutes, just staring into the empty void left behind by Annabeth. Finally he turned to Nico.

"Bring her back again!"

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?" said Percy. He grabbed on to Nico's arm and shook him.

"I can't—" Nico gulped. It was hard to maintain his train of thought with Percy's fingers digging into his skin like that. "—Force her to show up if she doesn't want to be summoned," he explained. "We'll have a better chance of it working if we wait a bit. We can try again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Percy hollowly repeated.

Nico put his hand over Percy's with the intention of prying his fingers off his arm. Somewhere in the process though his brain stopped working properly and he forgot to follow through. Percy didn't seem to notice the fact that their fingers were practically entwined.

"We'll summon her again tomorrow," he reiterated.

Percy nodded. His nod kept going though, until his head crashed against Nico's shoulder. Nico lost track of how long they stood there, Percy sobbing long past the point of soaking Nico's T-shirt through with tears.

It seemed like Percy had needed to get a good solid breakdown out of his system. After he'd finally calmed down, he appeared a little bit more like the old Percy again.

Actually, he seemed a little too much like the old Percy again. Nico suspected he was only more cheerful because he was up to something.

Not suspected, really. Nico knew that Percy was up to something. Percy had pretty much admitted as much when he'd refused to promise Annabeth.

He would have been more concerned, but Nico was pretty sure any plans that Percy might have would probably involve Nico's help. It didn't seem very likely that he'd have to worry about him doing anything reckless without at least giving Nico some sort of warning first (after which he'd almost definitely do something reckless, but at least Nico would be ready for it.)

Percy was disconcertingly upbeat as he offered to make lunch, and then a few hours later repeated the offer for dinner. (Nico figured he probably should have been offended that Percy apparently didn't want to eat anything Nico touched, but this scenario was a little too much like one of his fantasies come to life for him to turn the offers down.) He couldn't even remember the last time he'd bothered to eat both lunch and dinner in the same day. It felt weird and extravagant.

When night came Nico found himself in a bit of a bind. He didn't really have anything to accommodate entertaining an overnight guest. Sleeping bags and air mattresses weren't exactly the sorts of things he'd ever expected to need, and it hadn't occurred to him the previous night to get that sort of supplies amidst his errands. He hadn't intended to let Percy stay. He'd resolved to do the summoning, but after that he'd meant to kick Percy out. A second summoning had definitely not been on his agenda, and even less had he intended to let Percy spend another night.

"You can have the bed again," Nico chivalrously offered. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"No," said Percy immediately. "I don't want to impose that much. I'll sleep on the couch."

"You absolutely won't" countered Nico. "You're a guest. You'll take the bed."

"I'm a self-invited guest," said Percy. "I'll take the couch."

"No way, I insist."

"No I insist," argued Percy.

"Are you trying to say my bed isn't good enough for you?" Nico accidently asked. Then felt his face start burning as he really thought about how loaded that had sounded.

Luckily Percy remained oblivious to Nico's discomfort. "No, it's fine. I just won't be able to sleep if I feel guilty for putting you out."

"Well get over that," snapped Nico. "I still insist. This discussion is over."

"I'll tell you what," said Percy. "I'll take it tonight if you're going to be that stubborn. But you'll let me sleep on the couch after that, okay?"

"Excuse me?"

"Like, tomorrow night," Percy clarified. "I'll sleep on the couch tomorrow and after that."

"Hang on," said Nico. "Who the heck said you could stay here tomorrow night? And what do you mean and after that? "

"Oh." Percy looked stunned. "I just assumed..."

"We're doing another summoning tomorrow," said Nico quickly. "But after that you're outta here. There isn't going to be a 'tomorrow night'. You're leaving."

Percy was quiet for a few minutes. "I don't really have anywhere else to go," he finally confessed.

"What are you talking about? You have loads of places to go. You have more places you could go than probably anyone else I know. Not one but two camps. New Rome. Your mom's place. Your dad's place..."

"Too painful," said Percy quietly. "Most of those places remind me of..." he coughed. "...Annabeth. You know? I can't stand to be around any of them right now. It hurts too much."

"So that just defaults you here, huh?" Nico muttered. "You're fine here because I'm pretty much the anti-Annabeth, aren't I? Great."

"What?" Percy looked confused by Nico's sudden display of bitterness.

"Goodnight Percy," Nico snapped. He started stalking towards his bedroom door, only to remember that he couldn't go there because he'd just talked Percy into taking his room. He turned around, panicking because there weren't really any other rooms he could escape to. "I'm going out for a walk," he improvised. "See you tomorrow." He all but jumped out the door.

"Nico?" Percy asked in bafflement at the slamming door. He had no idea what he'd done wrong.

Percy didn't explicitly ask to stay again the next night; he just didn't take the initiative to leave without being told to. Nico somehow conveniently forgot to tell him to scram. He let Percy sleep on the couch this time, because to insist otherwise would draw attention to the fact that he'd neglected to un-invite him.

The second summoning hadn't gone all that differently from the first. Annabeth had been argumentative and Percy had been stubborn and it had ended abruptly to no one's satisfaction. Like the sleeping arrangement, Percy hadn't verbally asked Nico to do anything more. This time Nico hadn't offered. Nonetheless a silent agreement hung between them that they'd try again.

And again.

"Hey Kelp Face," sighed Annabeth for the seventh or eighth time. "What's up? Can't say a whole lot is different down here. Just been…you know. Hanging out. Being dead. Not much to tell."

"I've had an idea to break you out," said Percy excitedly. "I thought maybe if I got Grover to record a bunch of songs and then I put some sedatives in a dog biscuit I could….."

"No."

"Annabeth? Come back!"

And again.

"I hope you're calling me to swear that you're going to let this whole thing drop," said Annabeth. "Because I'd love to have a conversation with you that doesn't involve your probable demise."

"No, I've got a really good plan this time."

"Later, Seaweed Brain."

"Annabeth!"

And again.

"Hey could you stick to a predictable schedule or something?" Annabeth asked grumpily. "I was in the middle of having lunch with Silena."

"You have lunch in the underworld?"

"Well, yeah. Not the most exciting lunches. You know, just what you'd expect. Pomegranate salads. Pomegranate soup. Pomegranate tea. On Tuesdays there's also pomegranate gelato. But only in Elysium. Dessert isn't really standard in Asphodel. It's more of a holidays only thing there."

"Oh."

"Yeah, so, what'd you want Mud Guppy?"

"Well, I was thinking," said Percy. "You know how there was Death Mist, right? Well, doesn't that mean there's probably an opposite somewhere? Like, maybe I could go on a quest to find some Life Mist and you could use it to pretend you were in the Underworld by mistake. And then you could just walk out of there."

"Percy," sighed Annabeth. "No. Just no. That's a stupid idea."

"I think it was the best idea I've come up with so far."

"Doesn't change my assessment."

"I want to try it—"

"Look Seaweed Brain, even if that kind of Mist exists, which I doubt, and Hades could be tricked by Mist, which I also doubt, do you think he'd let someone down here by mistake walk out of here? No. He'd throw me in a dungeon or incinerate me. That's how he rolls."

"Well, if Nico were to distract him—"

"Hey!" Nico immediately objected. "Leave me out of it!"

"No, Percy."

"But—"

"No."

"But—"

"My gelato is melting. Gotta go."

"Annabeth!"

And Again.

"Annabeth! You look…kind of happy."

Annabeth grinned. "Well, they just finished construction on Daedalus's latest overpass," explained Annabeth. "And I got this idea that they really ought to add an information center to it. A few people down here get special privileges for visitations out of their districts, right? But since it's not their main territory it's easy to get lost. So, you know, just on a whim I submitted a proposal and a blueprint for a multi-functional visitor complex. Hades totally accepted it. They're going to start laying the foundation next week."

"Oh, wow. That's cool. Congratulations!"

"I know, right? I've got loads more ideas too that I'm going to start drawing up plans for. Hades is a bit of a traditionalist, you know. There are so many opportunities for renovations. It's time for some architectural modernizations down here! I'm thinking: neo-classical with an eco-chic twist. So how're you doing, Fish Boy?"

Percy opened his mouth to answer honestly with 'terrible, it practically hurts just to keep breathing,' but paused. This was the first time he'd seen Annabeth looking happy since she'd died. And it had nothing to do with him. He couldn't reconcile how to feel about that. But regardless of whether it made him relieved or hurt, he didn't want to spoil her happiness.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Annabeth." He swiped his fingers through the air, dissolving her image before he could change his mind.

In the middle of the third week Percy awoke to find a futon in Nico's living room. He didn't ask where or how Nico had gotten it, but he was silently grateful.

By the fourth week a lot of his clothes and a few other personal belongings that he'd left behind at camp mysteriously appeared as well. Less afraid now that verbally acknowledging these things might break the spell of Nico's hospitality, Percy thanked him. Nico stared at the floor and muttered something about Percy starting to smell and needing to do laundry.

As the days went by Percy was looking better.

Nico was conversely looking significantly worse.

He didn't complain, but the constant summoning was draining Nico's energy. And it didn't help that he was having a hard time sleeping, knowing that Percy was just on the other side of his bedroom door. He spent most of each night lying awake, thinking about Percy. Thinking about how creeped out Percy would be if he knew how much Nico was lying there thinking about him. Thinking how if he were a decent human being he'd make Percy leave, and spare him the indignity of being thought about like this. (Cue self-loathing interjection that he barely qualified as a human being anyway, being a decent one never made it to the table.) Percy would definitely want to leave if he had even half an idea of the sort of tortuous thoughts swirling around Nico di Angelo's head every night. He needed for his sake to make him leave. Except, Nico just couldn't do it.

He actually made a few gallant attempts at banishing his accidental roommate, but the words never quite made it out of his mouth. Percy would always look up and smile in that painfully sincere way that always made Nico feel like he'd swallowed a gallon of earthworms. And Nico's brain would turn to oatmeal and he'd find himself muttering something inane about the weather or what they were going to have for dinner.

It didn't help Nico's predicament that because of all the free time (the summonings never lasted longer than 20 minutes or so) and lack of other people around, Percy kept suggesting they do things together. Things like watching movies (problematic—Nico didn't have a TV,) or playing games (actually touching that he'd suggest this—too bad Nico had burned his Mythomagic deck,) or spar to keep their fighting skills from getting rusty (danger Nico di Angelo, danger—physical contact, inevitable!) Nico had to invent more and more convoluted excuses to get out of these things (which he really wanted to say yes to more than anything.) Life was turning into one long torture reel of testing his self-control. He was really probably going to go insane any second.

When Nico turned his suggestions down, Percy usually reacted by disappearing into the bathroom for hours on end. Nico didn't think too much of it, assuming he was probably taking baths. They were nowhere near a natural source of water after all, and it must have been hard on Percy being so disconnected from the sea. On more than one occasion Nico toyed with the idea of offering to shadow travel Percy to a beach somewhere (any beach in the entire world was an option.) He always chickened out though before suggesting it. Having to spend several hours watching Percy running around in a wet bathing suit would definitely push his sanity over the edge. So he pretended that the idea of taking Percy on day trips had never occurred to him and let Percy practically take up residence in his bathtub as compensation.

Every day he had to awkwardly act as voyeur to Percy and Annabeth's intimate conversations (/arguments.) He'd at least turn around usually in attempt to block them out, but there was no way to escape overhearing. If he stepped too far away the summoning would break. Every single time his heart would wrench and break all over again (half out of empathy for Percy's sadness, half for his own sake, knowing that he'd never overhear Percy saying those sorts of things to him.) The emotional toll of the summoning was what was getting to him the most. It made him feel more tired and drained than the physical expenditure. Percy had no idea.

Annabeth surprisingly did.

She was unusually subdued one day after being called into an appearance. Both Nico and Percy immediately sensed something was up. She made idle chit chat for a few minutes before dropping the bomb.

"Percy, we can't keep doing this," she sighed.

"What do you mean? Of course we can!" Percy predictably responded.

"There isn't supposed to be this much contact between the living and the dead," she said. "We've been breaking the rules big time. We're going to get caught."

"Since when did you care about breaking rules?"

Annabeth changed tactics.

"You're killing Nico," she said bluntly.

Nico started at hearing his name mentioned. He turned around in surprise.

Percy blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"Just look at him," she said, waving in his direction. "I keep expecting him to pass out every time we do this. It isn't good for him."

"I'm fine," Nico said quickly, waving his hands as if to prove Annabeth was being crazy.

Percy slowly turned as if in a daze and squinted at Nico. It was if he were looking at him carefully for the first time in weeks. "Oh," he said quietly.

Nico felt very in the spotlight as Percy drank in the sight of his skin's sickly pallor and the clashing inky circles ringing his eyes. "Oh," said Percy again, frowning heavily.

"We can't keep doing this," Annabeth repeated.

"We won't summon you as often," Percy promised. "We'll wait a few days in between so Nico can rest."

"I'm fine," Nico insisted again.

Annabeth shook her head. "No, Percy. I mean it. We can't keep doing this."

"Yes we can," said Percy. "We'll just be more careful."

"I'm asking for my sake," she said. "You have to let me go."

"Annabeth…."

"I was at peace, Percy. I was okay with being dead. This…this makes it not okay. It hurts to keep getting yanked back here and reminded of what I lost. It makes being dead hurt."

Percy didn't know what to say to that. "Annabeth…"

"Please," Annabeth implored. "For my sake and yours. This isn't good for any of us."

"I can't—"

"I've never heard of something Percy Jackson couldn't do." Annabeth gave him a sad smile. "This is the last one, Seaweed Brain. I'm not answering any more summons. I'd better not see you again until you're 102."

"Just—"

"Don't let him be an idiot." Her last comment was directed at Nico. He'd barely shook his head in agreement before she vanished.

This time Percy didn't cry. Instead an eerie stillness settled on him as he stared blankly at the now empty yard. Awkward as it had been Nico would have preferred the waterworks. Percy's current mood reminded him of cliché comments about calm waters before a hurricane.

"I'm sorry," Nico immediately apologized, expecting Percy to blame him for Annabeth's decision. "I'm really sorry. I should have—I should have taken more naps or something—we can keep trying. Maybe she didn't mean it—maybe she'll change her mind. I mean—"

"It's not your fault," Percy said. "I'm the one that needs to apologize. I wasn't being considerate to how this was affecting you."

"I always look terrible," Nico said self-depreciatingly. "I'm powerful enough to handle multiple summonings. You shouldn't make assumptions about my powers from my stupid appearance. I could have handled this."

"You don't look terrible," Percy countered. "But I wasn't talking about the physical toll. I know you could handle it. I haven't been very considerate about your feelings."

Nico's heart nearly stopped. Did. Percy. Know?

"Uh…" was all Nico managed to get out.

"I knew how you felt about Annabeth and I still made you do this for me over and over again. I know I was being harsh. I—I needed to. But I'm sorry for it."

"Wait, no," Nico said in dismay. "I don't have those kind of feelings for Annabeth. I never—"

"You don't have to pretend to spare me," Percy interrupted. "I get it. It's okay."

"Uh, you don't get it at all, actually."

"Thanks for doing so much for me." Percy surprised Nico in a crushing hug. For the second time in so many minutes Nico thought for sure his heart was going to freeze in his chest.

"You have my permission to ask her out when she's back," Percy announced.

"What?"

Surely Nico must have heard that wrong.

"What are you talking about? What the hell do you mean back?"

Percy didn't answer. He'd already taken off at a run for the house.

Nico sprinted after but Percy was fast.

He heard a door slamming inside, and the sound of water running. The bathroom door was locked when he tried it. Percy didn't usually lock any of the doors.

"Percy, open the door!" Nico banged loudly.

Percy didn't answer him. Instead he heard the sound of something metallic plinking against porcelain.

"Iris," came Percy's muffled voice through the door. "I need to talk to Hades. Please tell him it's an emergency."

"Percy, no!" yelled Nico. He shoved himself into the nearest shadow he could find, remerging in the bathroom just in time to see his father's reflection solidifying in the bathtub.

"I don't usually answer Iris-messages," said Hades, with a tone implying that his patience was already worn thin. "But you've been causing quite a bit of discord in my domain recently, Percy Jackson. It's starting to annoy me. This had better be good."

"I'd like to make a soul exchange," Percy announced boldly.

Hades rolled his eyes. "Is that so."

"Yes," said Percy, not put off by Hades' attitude. "I've cheated death lots of times. I'm a fair trade for Annabeth Chase."

Hades stared in silence at Percy. He seemed aware of his son's presence in the room but didn't acknowledge him. "I—" began Hades.

"I'm sorry!" yelled Nico, not sure who he was apologizing to, Percy or his dad. He unsheathed his sword and brought it crashing down on the bathtub. The Iris-message terminated as the porcelain exploded and water went everywhere.

"No!" cried Percy. He whipped around and swung at Nico. He wasn't really aiming or putting his real force into it though and Nico easily dodged.

"How could you," Percy gasped, swinging blindly again. "I need to do this! He might not answer again! That might have been my only—" Percy stopped struggling and switched to fumbling in his pockets, probably searching for another drachma.

Nico panicked. He grabbed Percy's arm and yanked him out of reach of the faucets. That didn't seem nearly safe enough though so he yanked him again. Right into a shadow.