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Chapter Text

Nico wakes up to the sound of a sixteen-wheeler blaring its horn to the car in front of it. He jolts into awareness as the vibrations tremor under the dirt (dirt? ) and finds himself over a hilltop next to the highway.  Confusion is the only emotion he feels. Nico isn’t one who shadowtravels in his sleep—to do that would mean that his mind would find absolute peace.

Seeing as his mind is in a perpetual state of utter chaos over why he’s sitting on a hilltop in the San Francisco Bay area instead of hugging Jason’s pillow and burying himself in the scent of Jason’s aftershave, Nico has no clue why he’s suddenly on the other side of the country. A trip like that requires at least a catnap of some sort—but Nico doesn’t think he shadowtraveled before waking up.

He stands to his feet and finds that his Stygian iron sword is strapped to his belt. That’d been the first thing he took off before going to bed last night. Nico’s jacket is missing. He’s cold. The only explanation that comes to mind is that he’s been dressed for this certain visit.

There’s a possibility that this is a Summons from a god.

Ugh. Nico can think of better ways to start out his morning. Hopefully Hazel has cocoa prepared for him when he arrives.

Stretching out his limbs, Nico can’t help but feel good. He doesn’t know why, but it feels like he received more than three hours of sleep. Once this visit is over (and he hopes there’s no life-threatening contract that goes with the deal), he plans on returning to Camp Halfblood. To Jason.

Shaking those thoughts from his psyche, Nico forces himself to focus on the matter at hand. There’s a reason he’s been given a summons. It’s rare for a Child of Hades, but the experiences Nico can remember have not been pleasant ones.

He steps into his own shadow and reappears at the bridge over the Little Tiber.

More chaos ensues.

“It’s…It’s Nico! di Angelo’s back! He’s finally back!”

Nico jumps. Before he can let the declaration sink in, someone tackles him and gives Nico a big bear hug. Frank? He recognizes Larry from the Second Cohort and Bobby from the Fifth. Hank and Dakota suddenly throw Nico over their shoulders and cheer.

Campers flood from everywhere, and Nico can’t seem to pinpoint what’s happening, let alone catch his breath. He shakes at the vice grip over his ankles, and he hisses, “Put me down!” but no one cares.

Frank is beside Larry, looking at Nico with a dorky grin. “Dude, you’ve been gone forever! I, uh—I like the hair.”

“What the Hades is going on?!” Nico demands. He wriggles to loosen the grip over his legs, but no avail—they march Nico all the way to campgrounds before he can feel the dirt beneath his feet again.

Larry and Bobby punch him jokingly on the arms, and Nico can’t get over the fact that this isn’t the camp he’s used to. Never in his life has anyone picked him up over their shoulders. A crowd this big doesn’t gather around him unless they’re dead.

He searches the faces for Hazel, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Nico rationalizes with himself—if he can find Hazel, then he can leave New Rome in one piece without screaming at the sky.

Jason’s suddenly in view as he descends from the clouds—wearing the purple robes and gold armor of a praetor. There’s surprise in his demeanor, and Nico mutters, thank gods that he isn’t in this backwards camp on his own.

(He thanks the gods and wonders why on earth Jason is wearing those robes if he resigned his praetorship three months ago, all at the same time.)

“Nico!”

The crowd parts for the second praetor as she makes her way out of the forum. She wears the same robes that Nico often sees on Reyna, with the imperial gold breastplate and the many badges on the brown straps. Gods, maybe she can explain what’s going—

Nico’s throat swells. His eyes suddenly moisten with tears and he gets only a second’s glance at the other praetor before she throws her arms around him.

“Bianca?”

-x-

Jason wakes up to a hand on his neck. His entire body aches—which is something he should expect after he told Nico that he doesn’t mind sleeping on the floor. The first thing he sees are the glassy irises of his cabin mate as Nico tries to shake the sleep out of him. Then—Jason pulls out of his grogginess when he realizes Nico is touching him.

“Ni—?”

“Shh.”

In an instant, Nico clamps a hand over Jason’s mouth. Jason sits up, now fully alert, and stares at Ni—the stranger in disbelief. He shakes off the boy’s hand and slides back two feet. Blue eyes scrutinize the body before him in disbelief. “You’re not Nico.”

That isn’t exactly the truth. Jason can tell why he mistook this boy for Nico. His uninvited guest has the same mad genius eyes and nose—but isn’t all angles and bones. This boy’s skin is creamy—almost gold from healthy exposure to the sun, and his jaw is soft. A half-smile, half-smirk curls against his lips—but it’s the vivacity of it that nearly blinds Jason.

On the boy’s forearm are three bars—akin to every year of service—and a glyph that resembles a Symbol of Pluto. His shoulders are broader, with lean muscle that fills out the rest of his body. Jason notices that the boy is also wearing a Camp Jupiter t-shirt in place of Nico’s usual jacket.

Not Nico smirks softly and brushes his fingers on the juncture of Jason’s neck. “I know you’re not a morning person, but we need to get out of here.”

It takes three seconds to realize how vividly Jason can see those eyes. Not Nico sports the Legion’s standard crew cut instead of the wily curls that usually covers Nico’s narrow face. Faintly, Jason tries to match this face with anyone back in New Rome but he can’t make it past Nico’s eyes and Nico’s lips and Nico’s nose and Nico’s overall face.

Electricity bristles at the tips of Jason’s fingers—his mind giving into the second instinct to attack. Not Nico notices immediately.

“Good,” the boy breathes. “I don’t know how we got here, or why you followed me, but we’re gonna get out. Let’s shadowtravel.”

Followed?

“We’re at Camp Halfblood,” Jason says in a normal tone. He stands to his feet and ignores the firm hand on his bicep. Tries to keep his voice in solid. “Soldier, I don’t know what’s going on—but who are you?”

“Camp Halfblood?” the boy frowns. “What the Pluto is that?”

Jason ignores the close proximity between himself and Not Nico. Yet the boy remains only footsteps away, clearly comfortable with Jason, even though the former has never seen Not Nico a day in his life. The resemblance is there, but Jason can’t see the similarities past that. Which is when he remembers—“Where’s Nico?”

A dark eyebrow shoots in the air. Jason shivers because it’s another similarity between both boys. Even the meaning behind that one brow is alike—like he’s asking, Seriously?  “I am Nico.”

-x-

Nico has a lot of questions. Which is fine because Bianca won’t let him out of her sight. He wonders if he’s dead and in heaven, but Nico has enough common sense to know that isn’t true. (Or a reality, in his own beliefs.)

Dark eyes remain open in order to spot the crack in this illusion, but everything is so…real. (The daunting part is that if Nico really wants to, he can convince himself that the past four years of hardships was just a dream. He’s tempted to do so.)

Frank claps a hand over his shoulder as Bianca and Nico retreat (which is an odd sentiment, because Nico is under the impression that Frank is afraid of him) and Jason eyes Nico in a disturbing stare down. Everyone mocks salutes like an awkward inside joke that Nico doesn’t understand, but Nico is Bianca’s for the rest of the afternoon.

Aurum and Argentum follow Bianca like noble guard dogs and Nico watches as she summons a bar of bronze for them to munch on.

Once the crowd disperses, she takes him by the hand and they head toward New Rome. The grip is surreal and he can feel her touch and the pulse beneath that skin. Bianca holds his hand like they haven’t seen each other in ages and Nico wants scream yes, it’s been years and he still can’t believe that she’s dead and that she left him and now she’s here standing in front of him, living, breathing, and beautiful.

The shock he feels is anchored by the fact that none of this can be real.

She changes out of her praetor garb into the camp t-shirt and jeans. The freckles are still dispersed across her nose and cheeks, like a branding that grounds Nico and assure him she’s his. He used to be jealous of those freckles. Used to ask Mama to buy him some. Bianca is beautiful with her creamy sun kissed skin and long black hair.

He’s taller than her, he thinks while at the brink of hysterics, but they’re both grown so much.

The difference between Nico’s Bianca and this Bianca has a long, off-color scar that starts at the underside of her wrist and spirals upward into her sleeve. Nico wants to ask about it, but he hasn’t come down from the high that she’s here with him.

So their conversation is one-sided, with Bianca addressing the mundane activities that have happened while “he” has been gone, asking how Nico’s been, and making fun of him for how scrawny he’s gotten.

Before he knows it, Bianca shoves a tray full of chicken, mashed potatoes, Cheetos, and plenty of other things toward him when they make it to a café in New Rome.

“Eat,” she announces with a soft smile. There’s hesitation in her eyes before she makes a gesture toward her mouth. Bianca’s four fingers glue together in a slight crook and she taps it against her lips. “You look like the dead.”

Several other gestures follow. Sign language? Nico blinks at the prospect but it doesn’t leave his mind.

The glimmer in her eyes lets Nico know that these are just formalities. Bianca has something that she wants to say, but she doesn’t know how to say it. (That’s how he’s avoided confrontation with her in the past after he hid her favorite hat.)

“I don’t really…” Eat a lot, he starts. But the look she gives him makes it impossible to refuse.

Nico plucks the apple off his tray and sinks his teeth into it. The juices soak in the misery he’s felt since he was ten years old. It’s cold. Sweet, as honey.  It’s the best apple he’s ever eaten.

All the while, Bianca stares at him with a bittersweet look. He wonders where this universe’s him has been this entire time. Nico’s a little angry at “himself” for making his sister worry. Finally, he asks, “How long have I been gone?”

“Two months.” She uses both hands when she signs this time.

He nearly chokes on his second bite. “What?” Two months?

“The campers—I…” Bianca’s smile fades and that sad glimmer in her eyes takes over her demeanor. More gestures. Nico isn’t fluent, but Bianca’s hands are so solid when they sign to him. She catches him staring, mesmerized, and soon after stops. Talks a little louder. “I thought you died.”

“Bianca, I’m so…” Nico doesn’t know where to start. He’s sorry that his other self didn’t write or call. That he wasn’t more supportive of her when she became a hunter. That the last time she was breathing, beautiful in the moonlight and looked like she was happy she finally belonged somewhere, Nico couldn’t support it.

“Hey. Hey,” Bianca says, her voice wavering. She tries to keep it strong but they both know she’s failing. Bianca doesn’t sign this time. “Don’t cry, I’m not mad.”

She reaches out and curls her fingers over his.

Nico wants to laugh and shrug it off, but he’s so ecstatic that the tears are either out of guilt or because he’s just so happy. “Sorry, I just…I—I’ve missed you, Bee.”

“Just remember to call.” She catches his eye and another smile graces her lips. Her eyes start to water in the same manner as Nico’s own, and she looks grateful to have “her” brother back. “Don’t be weird, you dork.”

He sucks in a breath and forces himself to calm down. Nico wipes his nose on his wrist and his big sister makes a big deal out of it by saying, Ewwwww.

“So, did you find what you were looking for?” She asks if only to change the subject. Her gaze flashes wryly and Bianca pulls her own hair out of her eyes. “On what Octavian describes as—quote on quote—a ‘Journey of Self-Affliction to Preserve Stuffed Animals’?”

Uh. “Sure?”

“Good,” she chirps. “You’ll be sparring me later.”

-x-

“So you’re telling me that Greek demigods coexist with Roman ones on the east coast and in this universe, I’m a grumpy Graecus with an inferiority complex, and my sister’s dead.” Not Nico—uh—Roman Nico sips his sweet tea and perches like a child over his chair in the rec room. He arches his eyebrow, which looks stupidly wrong on his face. “Am I right?”

“I…wouldn’t say inferiority complex.” Jason frowns. He’s gathered as many of the Seven as he could—which means anyone who’s currently living on the east coast. Leo takes the time to joke that they’re the new defense squad for all mankind.  No one disagrees.

Roman Nico shrugs. He sips his tea once again and pulls out a deck of cards. He starts shuffling in them, suddenly disinterested in everyone else around him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Percy interjects, disbelief showing. He scratches his head. “You’re still into Mythomagic?”

“National Champion two years running.” Roman Nico smirks.

“And why are you drinking tea?”

He shrugs. “It calms me down.”

“Tea has caffeine in it.” Annabeth says. “It wakes you up.”

“Then…Jay and Bee have been playing it wrong for years.” Roman Nico stares at his cup carefully and then takes a long sip. Long and obnoxious.

“Oh, wow, a miniature British Percy,” Leo murmurs to Jason. He rolls his eyes and smirks mirthfully. “Do we have to deal with this? Can’t we just ship him to Britain and see him on Sherlock next week?”

Roman Nico stares him down, deadpan. “Do you have something to say to me?”

In that instant, Leo actually yelps. He shivers dramatically, and Jason can’t blame him. Roman Nico stares at their resident Repair Boy with a mixture of their Nico’s scrutiny and his own playful mirth.

The look of fear and nervousness lasts only seconds before Leo blinks and stares. Like, really stares. “What’s that thing on your ear?”

Jason looks over immediately. Sure enough, a line of silicone arches around the shell of Nico’s ear. It isn’t gaudy in the least—just a thin tan hook that everyone else in the room probably missed. For a technophile like Leo, Jason supposes it’s hard to ignore.

“My hearing aid,” says the Roman Nico. He taps at his jaw beneath the said aid and shrugs. “It’s not working right now, but I’m partially deaf in this ear.”

Oh.

“Cool,” Percy chirps. “Do you know what this means?” He makes a sign with his hands that leaves everyone else in the room very confused.

Except Roman Nico sniggers. Rachel groans and covers her face with a hand, but then Jason swears he hears a giggle.

“What’d you say?” Leo asks immediately. He cocks his head back to Roman Nico and vocalizes—fairly loudly—“What did he say?”

“Nothing good,” Roman Nico retorts through an elfish grin. He clears his throat and tightens his grip over his thermos. Percy laughs with him, and everyone leaves it be as a mystery.

“Why’s it not working?” Annabeth frowns.

Nico only makes a face, which is up there with the question of how he got there in the first place. “I dunno. I might have shadowtraveled to avoid something bad. Shadowtraveling and hearing aids don’t mix very well.”

Sighing, Jason opts to sit beside Roman Nico—who seems to have taken a liking to him. (Or—Nico already does like Jason, just. This isn’t something Jason is used to.) It makes him wonder what Roman Nico’s and his relationship is in the other universe. Roman Nico pours a cup of tea and hands it to Jason.

After resettling on the couch cushion. Nico’s bent leg rests on Jason’s lap.

Flushing red, Jason arches an eyebrow.

“My back hurts,” Roman Nico explains, and it’s left at that.

“Do you have any idea how you got here?” Annabeth asks cautiously. She hesitates before squeezing next to Jason on the couch.

A tiny smile curls across Nico’s lips and he passes her a cup of tea. “No clue. Death Ray, maybe?”

They all stare at him.

“I’m kidding. It’s called a joke.” Roman Nico rolls his eyes. “I dunno. A god? All I remember is waking up in Jay’s bed and thinking we were being held hostage.”

Everyone takes a second to look at the said Son of Jupiter, and Jason knows his face is pink. Hopefully they shrug it off and assume that Roman Nico’s telling another ill joke.

“Do you remember which god?” Annabeth asks again.

Roman Nico squint s to the air. He doesn’t have Jason’s Nico’s—their Nico’s—calmness. His hands are everywhere, tapping on the teacup or playing with his cards or making various hand gestures. “Cupid, maybe? Janus?”

Ergh. Cupid. If that’s the case, then Jason knows when they get their Nico back, he won’t be a very happy camper.

Piper comes back into the room. “Just finished Iris Messaging Hazel. She said she’ll be here soo—”

Hazel appears from the shadows, Frank and Reyna in tow. The three stumble to find their footing, but it only takes seconds.

“Impressive.” Suddenly Roman Nico’s wryness is replaced with a real frown. He watches as his Roman sister plants her feet to the ground and sets the teapot over the table. “You can shadowtravel?”

She pushes the hair out of her eyes and looks up. Pauses. “Nico?”

Roman Nico scrutinizes her carefully. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Yes, and…you brought me back to life.” Hazel suddenly looks doubtful when Roman Nico makes a face, but it’s mixed with surprise that this is actually her brother. Or—an incarnation of him, at least. “You snuck me past the Doors of Death.”

“That would be breaking Father’s code.” Roman Nico’s lips press together. His voice is tight. He wants to say something else, but it looks like it’s at the risk of hurting her feelings.

Reyna and Frank shield her and glare at him. Frank, of course, immediately glares, but it’s mixed with a bit of disbelief, doubt, and fear, that this Nico is here. “Okay, you may be Nico, but you’re not in charge of who’s alive and who’s dead in this world.”

The other boy looks taken aback at the sudden accusation. Roman Nico touches his hair and then stuffs his pockets with his hands. “No, I—I was just going to say that I must really love you if I broke the rules for you to live again.”

Oh. The tension ceases immediately and Frank and Reyna pull away from shielding Hazel. Hazel looks to Roman Nico with furrowed eyebrows, trying to figure out if this is really happening, and Jason knows exactly how she feels. A smile graces Roman Nico’s lips and he crosses his arms, hands under his pits.

“So,” he says. “Frankie, we still dueling for the top bunk?”

-x-

They run into Jason. The demeanor that the still-praetor takes is exactly the same in comparison to the one Nico’s Jason gave him the first time they met. Stern. Regal. Feral, with the gaze a wolf in those sky blue eyes.

Eye, Nico thinks to himself. Like this world’s Bianca, Praetor Jason has a scar from an unmentioned quest too—a pale jagged scar that descends through Jason’s right eyebrow and ends at the contour of his cheek. Jason’s right eye itself is hazy—clouded, in comparison to the pure blue that Nico is used to seeing.

Nico wants to scowl. Jason’s intimidation is one thing that Nico can live without. Not if it’s this way.

“Jay.” Bianca smiles and places a hand over Aurum’s head. She foils him with that gentle demeanor. “Nico’s agreed to battling me. We should postpone the War Games.”

Truthfully, Nico’s nervous and anxious about facing her in a sparring match. It doesn’t sit well with him—the way she pushes for them to do it. He can tell that she doesn’t want to but also that there isn’t any way of talking her out of it.

“Oh?” Jason looks between the di Angelo siblings curiously and keeps his gaze on Nico. The scar feels more prominent when he smiles. He starts signing—and stops. “That’s the ultimate punishment. Seems fitting since you were away for two months.”

“So when do I get to duel you?” Nico asks without thinking. He doesn’t like that tone, nor the way this Jason looks at him. It’s…unsettling.

The request takes both praetors by surprise, and for once Nico cares about his ego being at stake here in New Rome. (Probably, he thinks, because it’s in front of two of the most important people to him.) Nico realizes Bianca’s still touching him when her grip tightens over his shoulder. She looks over to him, frowning. “Nico, I wasn’t kidding when I said you look like the dead. You need to rest.”

“Bee’s right, Neeks.” Jason’s condescending look breaks into concern, one eyebrow in the air, and he uncrosses his arms—and crosses them again when he realizes he can’t do much with them. Blue eyes look like the sky again, at least for a brief second, obviously trying to dissect the clouds for a way not to hurt Nico’s feelings and ego. “I don’t want to kill you.”

Ouch. “I could take you.”

Jason’s demeanor looks tenser.

“You just said that facing my sister is the ultimate punishment.” Nico frowns. He crosses his arms and finds himself in the same stance as the blond in front of him. “So taking you down should be a breeze.”

Maybe it’s just a trick of the morning sun, but Nico swears he sees something akin to delight in Jason’s face.

“You’re not challenging him for his position as praetor, are you, brother?” Bianca teases. “What’ve you been doing in the last two months?”

Not getting patronized like this; that’s for sure.

“Training,” Nico says. He can’t help but hold his head high between the two of them. It feels needed.

Bianca and Jason exchange reluctant looks, and that only fuels Nico’s growing irritation.

“I can take you,” he repeats. Nico’s hand falls to the hilt of his sword stubbornly and he glares up to him. “If you’re man enough to face me.”

-x-

It’s a pretty interesting morning, Jason decides. Hazel, Frank, and Reyna all spend it in Long Island with the rest of them. This is the first reunion they’ve had this month, and it’s not that crazy.

Even if Roman Nico’s demeanor is still off putting.  Frank is ready to faint after Roman Nico spouts facts and menial things about his life. The thing is, Roman Nico knows that this Frank isn’t his Frank, and yet he takes the discomfort Frankie feels and twists it just to bother this Frank. Roman Nico scares Frank alright—by smirks and wittiness alone.

Despite the disturbing thrill Roman Nico gets out of teasing Frank (which is apparently a hobby of Roman Nico’s back in his own dimension), he’s kind enough to spend the day with Hazel and get to know her. An hour after meeting each other, Roman Nico teaches Hazel some basic sign language.

Roman Nico congratulates both Reyna and Frank for making praetor—‘Because Aurum and Argentum are the best fetch buddies in the world.’

Jason can’t tell if Roman Nico is pulling their legs or completely serious. When Mr. D and Chiron get involved with the ordeal, Mr. D waves it off—saying he can’t undo whatever god wants to mess with the ‘little creepy runt.’ Chiron confirms sadly that yes, Mr. D has a point. Dimensional travel means an extra cranky god. If Roman Nico can’t remember who bewitched him, then this will be a long week.

Roman Nico says nothing about going back to New Rome. They all get the feeling that he wants to scope Long Island out.

A Roman who has never stepped foot or heard of a Greek Camp is a dangerous combination. It’s never crossed Jason’s mind as a problem, but he realizes that for someone like this Nico, whose viewpoints aren’t fixed by the Second Demigod Civil War, this is a lot to take in.

“So old habits don’t change, no matter what universe you’re in.”

“Wh—whoa—” Jason almost falls off the roof of Zeus’s Cabin. He grips the rooftop and lets the realization sink in that Roman Nico is on the roof with him.

Snort. Roman Nico folds his arms and leans back while Jason tries to get a grip. “What? Your Nico doesn’t try to scare you?”

My Nico’s never looked like you, Jason doesn’t say. He catches his breath and maneuvers the wind to steady himself. “I just…have a lot on my mind. That’s all.”

Roman Nico stares at him blankly.

Jason feels like an idiot because that hearing aid is in full view now. If talking to his Nico doesn’t fluster him enough, Roman Nico clearly can do it without even trying. He opens his mouth to apologize and never gets the chance.

“Sorry.” Roman Nico’s face twists and he groans. “I’m used to you—my you signing to me.”

Ah. Jason can’t hide how he sighs in relief. Luckily Nico doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he hunches over in defeat and curls his fingers together in his lap. “Is…there a reason why you’re deaf?”

“Yeah,” Nico mutters. And that’s the end of their conversation. Silence fills their void, and those dark eyes look toward the sky carefully. “I don’t get it. Why you like it here so much?”

“What?” The blond blinks.

“It’s so…unstructured. And carefree. There’s no aggression. What’s the point in my drinking sweet tea if everyone’s bouncing off the walls anyway?” Roman Nico asks. He pulls out a canteen and Jason guesses it’s just that—sweet tea. He looks to Jason with disdain, frown and glare combined. “I can’t believe you’d rather be here than New Rome. They’re so uncivilized.”

“It’s more complicated than that.” Jason settles against the rooftop and folds his legs.

The different Nico stretches backward, with his shoulders firm as his palms meet the roof. He lies down with his feet dangling off the rooftop and stares at the clouds.

The poor guy is stuck here until they can figure out why this is happening. Jason can’t help but worry that this might be a switch of its own kind. Part of him is screaming to prepare for another war.

“You’re my hero, you know,” Roman Nico says. “Back in my world?”

“Really?” Jason’s heart skips a beat, and he makes sure Nico hears his comment this time. He didn’t miss the fact Roman Nico barely looked at Percy earlier in the Rec Room. Jason doesn’t want to be forward—or quite frankly, come onto this Nico at all—but it’s…like he decided earlier. An interesting experience.

“Don’t get me wrong—you’re kind of an ass.”

(Jason nearly falls off the roof. Again.)

“But I dunno. It pushed us. Bianca and me.” Nico chews on his lip and stares at the sky. “We spent time at the Lotus Casino—and judging by your face, I’m guessing so did this world’s Nico. This guy…I think it was Percy, actually, who came into the Casino for a few days. He was with this girl, Rachel, and a cyclops. They were there for maybe two seconds before snapping out of it. And because of them, so did my sister and I—she and I were so scared that we bent the metal support beams of the hotel by accident and caused it to collapse.”

“You collapsed an entire Casino?” Jason asks. His eyes widen.

“We didn’t realize it was us.” Nico snorts. “But then Alecto came and ushered us to the west coast. When we got there, you, everyone’s Golden Boy, vouched for us to stay. They were terrified. Something about Children of Pluto being a bad omen.”

Ah. “You’re not…treated badly in your world, are you?”

To his surprise, Roman Nico smirks. His gaze darts to Jason’s face, eyebrow arched, and Jason sees that madman twinkle in those irises. “What would you do if I was?”

Jason doesn’t miss a beat. “I think you’re strong enough to protect yourself.”

The other teen snickers again. He rests his arms on his belly, and his tic marks peek out on his creamy skin. A heartbeat pasts, and the demeanor that lectured him only minutes ago morphs with quiet thought. “You really think that? Even with this?”

“You’re…” Pretty powerful in this world, Jason wants to say. But Roman Nico and Jason’s Nico are two separate people, even if they’re the same person. Jason’s own ego would be bruised if someone told him he was more powerful in another world than his own. He makes his words as sincere as possible. “You don’t get looked at a lot, do you? No one…really sees you as a—”

“Threat?” Nico finishes. He taps his hearing aid gently. “Yeah. Because of this.”

 “You should use that to your advantage.”

Dark eyes look up and to Jason’s surprise, they look…surprised.

He jerks his shoulders to his ears and crosses his arms over his lap. Jason’s gaze flickers with the sun, and he smiles. “And I wouldn’t let them treat you badly. Your world, this world, or any other.”

Their gazes meet, and Jason can hear an audible click of lock and key as Roman Nico stares at him intensely. Takes him in. Roman Nico stops breathing for a moment, his attention completely fixated on Jason’s face. Fascinated by it.

“You…” Roman Nico starts softly, “You still have two eyes.”

“I beg your pardon?” Jason feels his heart flutter even if he doesn’t know why. He leans forward in attempt to inspect Roman Nico fully.

“Nothing.” Pink flutters in the younger demigod’s cheekbones. He studies Jason like the other teen’s grown a second head—and rolls his eyes. “Gods, you are so in love with me.”

(This time, Jason does fall off the roof. Into a pile of rubies that Roman Nico’s apparently summoned.)

-x-

Okay. Nico may be in over his head.

Scratch that.

When he gets home, he’s limiting the time he spends with Percy and Jason in the same room.

Kids from the Fifth Cohort insist on strapping the Imperial Gold armor to his body. He’s nauseous. Part of it is from the plentiful meal that Bianca stuffed down his throat, and the majority of it is from the fact that he’s facing his sister in a duel.

The creepy part is when a Roman Connor Stoll straps the breastplate over his chest and then kisses his nose.

Nico wants to die.

Before he gets a chance to react, Connor’s hands push Nico through the gates into the replica Coliseum. Frank takes the brief moment of Nico being dragged from one room to the entrance of the Coliseum floor to roll his eyes and yell, Good luck!

(And something about postponing their Mythomagic Dueling for the top bunk for later next week.)

Demigods gather in all the seats as Nico enters—several Roman faces that Nico recognizes, and some Greeks that he’s surprised to see. He watches at the entrance on the far side of him, where Bianca is dressed in similar armor along with plentiful badges from years of apparent successes. She chats idly with this universe’s Jason, and Nico can’t help the irritating thought that they look so good together.

He pretends he isn’t jealous when Bianca reaches up and kisses Jason on the cheek.

Jason’s blue eyes flit to Nico, and the younger demigod ignores the chill as it grazes up his forearms. The male praetor scrutinizes him for all the reasons Nico thinks he’ll be killed. For a split second, Nico sees those eyes fall to the ground—and then Jason’s lips press to Bianca’s forehead in the most innocent way.

The blond murmurs something in Bianca’s ear—something similar to, Be careful, okay, and then her gaze makes Nico’s heart plummet all over again.

A smile graces her lips—and morphs into a Roman smirk.

The Imperial Gold armor does nothing but heighten her muscles—with an eerie glow that shows just how powerful she is as a Child of Had—Pluto. Bianca’s long braid winds down her spine and she wields a dark wooden bow and arrows tipped with more gold.

Like a Huntress.

(Looks like some things don’t change, he thinks. Bianca would serve well by Artemis’s side in either universe.)  

Gusts of wind howl through the Coliseum and Jason, who is no longer hiding beneath the audience, descends on his majestic venti-horse. Tempest’s feet clap like thunder and his neighs are strong enough to create tornadoes.

Citizens of New Rome sitting in the stadium cover their heads as Tempest’s hooves clatter on the ground.

Nico rolls his eyes. You were just over there, he wants to say—but instead, holds his tongue.

Jason dismounts, and the smirk on his face is uncanny. His golden lance coats with electricity and he holds it proudly beside himself.

Cheers ring through the stadium for Praetor Jason, and he looked nothing but pleased.

“These two gladiators wish to prove themselves in a duel,” he says. Jason’s voice is as loud as a storm. “How do we feel about that?”

The shouts are distinct. AUT VINCERE AUT MORI!

Conquer or Die.

“I told him not to make a big deal about this,” Bianca grumbles under her breath. She rolls her eyes like the twelve-year-old big sister Nico remembers and he immediately smiles. She’s still as dorky as ever. “Well, you heard them, Neeks. Let’s get this over with.”

Warmth fills Nico’s chest and his smile morphs into a grin. He feels like a kid again. “You’re on, Hazel.”

And out of nowhere, Bianca arches an eyebrow. She eyes her brother carefully. “Who’s Hazel?”

“Let the battle begin!” Jason shouts.

-x-

“You okay?” Jason already knows the answer to his own question, of course. Roman Nico keeps fidgeting, body undulating and hands pinching his own back from discomfort.

“Yeah, I just—my back still hurts.”

Chewing on the inside of his mouth, Jason offers, “Do you want me to massage—?”

“Is that Connor Stoll?” Roman Nico cuts him off.

Jason squints. He casts a gaze to the middle of the Omega, where girls from the Aphrodite Cabin are shrieking out of anger. He sees a Stoll Brother running from the masses—with a sharpie in one hand and a mirror in the other. “I…think that’s Travis.”

Travis (Jason thinks) manages to escape by jumping onto the roof of the Hera Cabin beside them.

Roman Nico perks immediately. He crosses his legs and watches as the sly Son of Hermes parkours it across from them. “Hot. There are two of them?”

“Yes. Connor’s right there.” Jason points down to the alleyway between Zeus and Poseidon. The other Stoll Brother greets his sibling and they high five. Nico’s forethought crosses his mind. “You think they’re hot?”

“Mm.” As the Stoll Brothers make a run for it toward their Cabin, Roman Nico shadowtravels to them.

There’s a faint echo of, Hey, Roman-Neeks!

“Hey.”

Frank and Hazel greet Jason before the shock and kinda-sorta-jealousy can sink in.

“Hey.” His eyes flash back and forth between the happy couple and Roman Nico, who suddenly has Connor down to his level.

The Son of Pluto looks coy and mischievous at the same time, feet straight with the tips of his toes against the ground. He tugs at both Stolls’ collars and whispers something quietly between the three of them.

In an instant, the brothers are blushing from their hair to the tips of their toes. Roman Nico grins.

“Get ‘em!” Drew shouts angrily.

Thus, Connor and Travis run for their lives before anything else can be said.

“He sure is something,” Frank grumbles. “Don’t you think?”

With a gust of wind, Jason lands to the ground and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He’s torn between the jealousy and his automatic (stupid) rationale of, maybe there’s a tactical reason for it. Those dark eyes just aren’t the same as his—as their Greek Nico. Yet Jason is dumbstruck, because he can’t deny that this incarnation of their friend looks…happy.

“He’s not as nervous as he was this morning,” Hazel says. Frank and Jason both look at her curiously. Her gold eyes flicker analytically in a way that’s synonymous to Annabeth, and she shrugs. “Jewels were popping up outside when we were discussing what to do with him. That’s what happens to me when people make me anxious. This Nico must not see the brothers as a threat.”

Ah. Jason wonders if Hazel heard Nico’s declaration of the Stoll Brothers’ hotness before he disappeared.

“I can’t believe that he thinks the Stoll Brothers are hot though. I mean, their hair is amazing, but I always thought he’d end up with…” Hazel trails off. She looks over to Jason, then to Frank, and shrugs.

Wait.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Jason blinks. “That he likes…?”

“Fellas?” Hazel finishes. The sudden past colloquium takes Jason off guard, but she only shrugs again. “It only bothers me if he’s not happy. With you, he’s…” Hazel makes hand gestures, unable to verbalize something she apparently wants to. “Content.”

“Content,” Jason repeats. It’s a word that makes the unsettling feeling in his chest melt away. “So how do you feel about him? I mean—this Nico?”

She doesn’t realize it, but her gold eyes give her away. Hazel looks defeated--conflicted--over what to say. Frank pulls one of her brown locks behind her ear and she leans against him, tiny palms pressed against his. “I’m not sure. I mean...on one hand, he’s happy. I feel like this Nico is how our Nico deserves to feel. And he still has Bianca--he has no idea how much our Nico wants that. But.”

“He doesn’t have you,” Frank continues for her. Dark eyebrows furrow together and he cradles Hazel in his arm.

The situation plays out well in Jason’s mind. He can’t help but pity her.

Instead of crying, however, Hazel just looks perplexed. “Is it wrong that I want him to be happy, but—but not without me? I mean, I don’t want Bianca dead, but I don’t want me dead either.”

“I don’t want you dead either.” They flinch when Roman Nico reappears. Gods—Jason’s gotten used to their Nico doing it, but there’s something twisted in the way this Nico pops up. His creamy poker face reappears, with a glimmer in his eyes that’s as obvious as Hazel’s. He looks to her, focused on her life and her...not-deadness. “You’re as much my sister as Bianca is.”

Hazel’s eyebrows knit together. She detaches herself from Frank. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yeah.” Nico doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s just—there are rules. And you were able to leave because—because of circumstances. I…”

“You can’t break them,” she responds. “I know.”

“But--”

“I’m family. You see me as—”

“—family. Yeah.” Roman Nico’s demeanor matches hers. His brow wrinkles and he stuffs his hands in his pockets. “You’re my sister.”

She pulls him into a hug instantly. Hazel’s arms wrap around him, and Nico buries his nose into her hair. The embrace is warm and fragile--with either sibling hiding the need to break.

A happy moment passes and Frank and Jason both let the relief flood through them.

“So,” Roman Nico starts. “Do I need to give you the Big Brother Talk and Threat, Frankie?”

Six gold bars and four rubies promptly rise.

-x-

Nico dodges arrows as they shoot through the air. His sword is on the other side of the arena, and the irritation boils in his blood. Bianca’s aim puts most Apollo children to shame--and she lives up to her title as a Daughter of Pluto.

With one swift curl of her finger, the arrows follow Nico like heat-seeking missiles.

Bianca’s geokinesis is powerful enough to rival Hazel’s. (Nico wipes away the bitter realization and the obvious fact that Hazel was never revived in this universe--he’s going crazy at the thought, but this isn’t the best moment to dwell.) She’d manipulated his sword to shoot across the arena as soon as the battle started.

He’s lucky that she hasn’t confiscated his skull ring.

Holding his breath, Nico avoids another array of arrows by plopping to the ground, stomach against dirt. He rolls over in time to escape the golden tips as they plunge into the stadium floor and grits his teeth. Of course Bianca is nowhere close to killing him (aut vincere aut mori aside), but Nico can’t help but think he has better luck surviving against Kronos again.

Instantly, Bianca’s shadow looms over him. He sees the hard sun behind her as Nico raises his head and watches those dark orbs.

They stare back, disappointed.

Cheers around them are suddenly miniscule as Bianca’s brow furrows. She’s not even trying now—the end of her bow is only inches away from Nico’s face.

“C’mon,” Bianca says. Her voice fills with the needy concern from when they were little. When she would urge him to make a decision in effort to keep them from being outcasts at school, but also one of a very concerned and frustrated big sister. “Why would you leave me for two months and not have anything to show for it?”

His heart hurts.

All the terrible memories of learning his powers by himself—through an angry ghost who used him—flood back. It took Nico months to learn how to summon spirits at will—especially the ones he wanted. There was no big sister to turn to when he finally mastered something that made being a demigod semi-worth it.

She left him, he thinks. He was mad for it. At Percy, at Annabeth, at Lady Artemis—at Bianca.

In this world’s eyes, he left her. Nico doesn’t want to show his power—he doesn’t want to kill her—but he also wants to show off everything he’s ever learned so that she can be proud.

Out of instinct alone, Nico phases through his sister’s shadows. He can see Praetor Jason’s stern look from the other side of the arena—carrying the same disappointment as Bianca and him—but Nico doesn’t care. Can’t care.

The hilt of his sword meets his fingers as Nico reappears opposite of his sister. She looks at him, unsurprised but content, and cradles her bow. That’s my brother, her smile says. It twists back into a naughty grin and she waves her hand. The arrows lift from the ground and retreat until they’re back in her quiver.

“No holding back this time,” Nico says. “I promise.”

Bianca responds by shooting two arrows at him.

Using his sword, Nico deflects the first one and shadowtravels out of the way of the second one.

To that, Bianca looks pleased. “You’ve gotten the hang of shadowtraveling, have you, bubba?”

Her declaration echoes through the arena. She scrutinizes the air, the ground, the shadows—everything. Nico reaches out from her shadow and grabs her by the ankle. Bianca plunges toward the dirt—and Nico grabs her quiver when she lands.

“What the—?”

Reappearing at her feet, Nico opens up his own shadow. He throws the quiver through the portal.

Bianca frowns. “Where did they go?”

“Underworld.” Nico smirks. “You can’t use them.”

Unsurprisingly, the crowd erupts with Ooooooooohs  and Buuuurnns.

“You wouldn’t try to kill your own sister.” Bianca’s eyebrows furrow and she looks at him carefully. “Would you?”

Nico hesitates. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“Never hurts to try.”

“WHOA—!”

She hooks her ankle and foot around Nico’s Achilles and trips the poor boy. Bianca clutches the hilt of a sword that blends all too well with her armor, and with a metal hiss, it unsheathes.

Opening his eyes, Nico is met with the tip of her gladius pressed against his neck.

He loss.

“Nice try.” A smile curls against Bianca’s lips. Their audience yells with excitement, fists pumping in the air. She sheathes her sword and offers a hand that Nico gladly accepts. “You’ve gotten a lot better.”

“But I lost.” Ebony eyebrows furrowed together. Instinct tells Nico to curl into himself and hide his heart. But Bianca still gives him that twelve-year-old look and makes Nico feel like an upset ten-year-old. They had their problems, but problems never erased the fact that they were brother and sister.

“You didn’t even try.” Bianca nudges him in the arm jokingly—something that’s actually…what Jason would do. “Not until the end. I can’t believe you threw my quiver into the Underworld. You were always good at that.”

His eyes coat with tears again. Blinking them away, Nico tries to stuff his hands in his pockets before remembering he’s in Roman armor.

“Hey. Hey, don’t cry—I missed you too.” Bianca throws her arms around him and holds Nico tight.

It’s hard to fathom how someone as loving as her could aspire to being a huntress. She’s so…powerful, like their father has always spoken of. But. She’s also still the same Bianca that Nico never stops missing. That being said, Nico buries his nose into her braid and restrains from sobbing like a child.

Cries of JAY-SON, JAY-SON, JAY-SON pull their attention away from each other. The wind picks up beneath the setting sun, and Jason and Tempest trudge forward.

Bianca holds Nico’s hand (like Hazel would) as they release their hug. She squeezes his palm gently and smiles. “You better kick his ass, though.”

(Hearing her swear is something he’ll never get used to.)

“We can postpone the battle if you want me to.” To Nico’s surprise once again, Praetor Jason’s scrutiny morphs into the sincerest concern. He actually looks like…Nico’s Jason. So much that it hurts. “Family is important. You two should catch up.”

“I’m okay,” Nico mutters. He flashes his best poker face and glares at Jason. The guy only looks at him for two seconds before those cold blue eyes fall to Nico’s feet. Like he’s expecting something.

“You sure?” Bianca asks. She squeezes Nico’s hand again, almost painful in grip, and leans over. “I know they can be scary, but Jay and I can calm the masses if they get upset.”

“No, it’s…not that.” He just wants to pummel the other praetor until he looks like Nico’s Jason.

It all ends instantly.

“WHERE ARE HIS TATTOOS?” Someone on ground-level suddenly shouts at the top of his lungs. It sounds like…Octavian? “WHERE IS HIS MARK OF THE TWELFTH LEGION?”

What?

Nico cocks his head over to confirm that yes, that certainly is Octavian who is now glaring at him, and his breath hitches.

Murmurs break loose through the audience. Bianca and Jason blink in the sudden interruption and stare at him curiously.

They turn his bare forearm over.

In a matter of seconds, Bianca lets go of him. She inches toward Jason, hand on her sword handle, and turns pale. “Who are you?”

-x-

“I’m the one who came up with shadowtraveling,” Roman Nico explains. He rips apart his loaf of bread and douses it in honey. “Or like, Cerberus taught me. He went missing, so me and Jason went on a quest—”

“Jason and I,” Percy corrects. Everyone looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “What? I do pay attention in class. Sometimes.”

“Never,” Annabeth snorts.

“Nick. Norah. To your separate corners.” Roman Nico rolls his eyes and stuffs the bread in his mouth. “Anyway, you thought I was crazy—” he points to Jason. “—but I swore the dog was there when I turned around. And so I realized he only showed up where there could be a large shadow and tried it for myself. Baboom. Here I am. Turns out that Thanatos was just playing a really far away fetch game with Cerberus and used the wrong squeaky toy. So Cerberus was scouring the earth for something that he didn’t have a scent on.”

“We once played fetch with Cerberus so we could get to your father,” Annabeth says. “He likes giant red rubber balls.”

“Really? He likes blue ones in my universe. Bold move, Annabeth Chase.” Roman Nico peels apart another loaf of bread and gives a fifth to the girl across the picnic blanket. “You’re pretty smart, even if you are a graecus.”

Comments like that usually don’t sit well with Annabeth. The general consensus is that Annabeth is the smartest person at camp.

“She’s a good one, Jackson.” Roman Nico’s expression doesn’t waver as he looks over to the Son of Poseidon. “You could teach my sister a thing or two about picking men. Octavian is our only augur, but Apollo knows that even his own legacy couldn’t lift a sword.”

Jason chokes on his pistachios—which is followed by an orchestra of the same reaction from his friends. Percy clutches his throat while Annabeth pats him on the back. Hazel turns so red that she nearly suffocates, and Leo looks like he’s about to set his hair on fire.

It doesn’t sound like a joke. Roman Nico, poised and calm, reaches out and grabs the bag of pistachios from Jason’s lap. Then—his grin makes him look like a child.  “Kidding. Man, have you guys ever heard of a joke?”

“If he’s as bad as he is in this world, then Bianca’s too good for him.” Hazel makes a face and sips her tea. She rolls her eyes, but clearly she’s not annoyed.

“Don’t worry. He’s on janitor duty.” Reyna lets out a defeated sigh and plops a jelly bean in her mouth. “Aurum and Argentum are monitoring him. If he misses one speck of dirt, they’re allowed to eat him.”

Her mirth is so starch that Jason can never tell when she’s joking or not. However, instead of laughing, Roman Nico’s lips contort the slightest bit. He studies Reyna with a tiny frown, and his eyes draw a blank.

“Would you like to say something?” Reyna stares back, just as firm.

“I just can’t believe she’s dead.” Roman Nico’s gaze falls back to his pistachios and he glares at them bitterly. The light wit in his voice disappears until it’s no longer there.

Silence follows his response. Jason’s heart falls into his stomach. Rots. His gaze surfaces to both Percy and Annabeth, noting that the guilt and tentative pleasure from earlier is now gone. The way they did look at Roman Nico leaves a bitter taste in Jason’s mouth—like they’re wondering if this is who their (all of their) Nico would be if Bianca di Angelo never passed away. He hates it, because Percy especially is enjoying it bit too much.

Yet for a second time, Percy and Annabeth are there to watch as a Nico breaks down. No one can stand it. No one knows what to say.

Hazel opens her mouth to speak. Reaches over, to hug him.

Roman Nico leans into Jason and buries his face into the elder demigod’s arm. Surprised, Jason looks down to the small Roman teen at his side. He hesitates—then raises his arm around this boy. This…boy, who feels like he just lost his sister. Who is an incarnation of a friend he holds dear. Who Jason feels the need to comfort all over again.

Everyone else looks on in confusion or curiosity. Hazel looks torn. Frank looks lost.

Shrug.

“She’s not gone though.” Hazel makes her way over and perches herself beside her Roman brother. Hesitation flickers in her gaze before this Nico is willing to look up at her—and she is at a loss of words. “I mean…she’s alive. In your universe.”

In one where Hazel may not even exist.

His demeanor shrivels and he presses a hand to his face. Much like their Nico does. Roman Nico stands to his feet and turns back toward camp. “I just—I need to clear my head.”  

“I’ll come with you.” The other child of Pluto follows after him.

Jason knows he can’t read Hazel as well as the others sitting around their picnic blanket. He rests his back against Thalia’s tree and watches her move—the cluster of emotions that flicker over her face. She wants to go. She doesn’t know she’s allowed.

A smile graces Roman Nico’s lips—weak, but willing. The madman glint in his irises flash back to Hazel. “Thanks.”

“We’ll be here when you get back.” Jason finds his voice before he regrets it. Without even thinking, he rolls up the bag of pistachios and places it beside him. “Okay?”

The smile on Nico’s face widens. He still looks distraught—like it’s hard to breathe—but something in that smile gleams in a way that lets Jason know the other demigod will be okay.

He wonders if the other Jason would say the same words.

-x-

“I’m your brother! I’m not lying!” This isn’t a conversation he ever imagined having. His jacket is missing for a reason. If whoever gave him this summons allowed Nico to keep it, then he could still—he could keep…fooling Bianca. Pretending this life is his.

The look on her face as she scrutinizes him tears his heart in two. She caresses Argentum’s head gently while Aurum naps at Praetor Jason’s feet. Bianca’s face is completely void of emotion—taught so well that Nico understands how roman she’s become. “But you’re not my brother. The one from my world.”

He isn’t. Nico swallows the lump in his throat and falls back in his seat. He stares at the ground, hands curled into fists and just…doesn’t know what to say. His heart pushes against his ribcage, uncomfortably tight and all he wants is to tell his sister how much he loves her. “I’m sorry.”

“He’s telling the truth,” says the third voice in the room. Jason is on the other side of the praetor’s office, legs crossed and hand scratching behind Aurum’s ear. Those eyes flicker, and through the cloudiness Nico can actually hear the real Jason. The one that is praetor, but is himself first. “Otherwise Aurum and Argentum would have ripped him to pieces.”

The Romans want to kill him. Once they step outside this room, Nico has a fair guess that Octavian has gathered an army.

“I don’t have proof that you are my sister, other than the fact that I’ve lived with regret for years because I couldn’t find you.” Not only that, Nico thinks. He swallows his own resolve and watches as Bianca’s eyebrows furrow together. Every solution to bringing her back has been void. Four years have been hard coping with the fact that he couldn’t save her. Now, Bianca is sitting before him and he still—

Nico still can’t get his way.

Bianca lets out a heavy breath. “Look, it’s not that I don’t believe you but I--I can’t just believe you either.”

“Our Nico has been missing for two months,” Praetor Jason pitches in. When Nico turns to look at the other demigod, he’s met with a look that his own world’s Jason would give. Pity, but guarded pity. Guilt, but cautious guilt. “We can’t take that chance that you really are him. Regulation dictates that we should have killed you an hour ago. Knowing Octavian, he’s probably already gathered an army.”

Funny. Nico has the same speculation.

“So you don’t know where the last place your Nico’s been.” Nico’s gaze narrows back to his sister. “He hasn’t contacted you in two months.”

The strain is written all over Bianca’s face. She looks down to her desk and brings her braid to the other shoulder--a habit, Nico thinks, that she’s had since they were little.

“That’s a jerky move,” he continues.

“It is,” both praetors reply.

Somehow, that makes him smile. Two of the most important people in Nico’s life are sitting in the same room with him. They don’t trust him—not one bit. Yet even at this state he knows that they care. Having them here reminds Nico of the intricate scar up Bianca’s arm and the jagged one that clouds Jason’s right eye. They’re an interesting duo—Nico can tell that they’ve been through everything together.

All who’s missing is Hazel. It’s the crack in this world that makes this reality shatter for Nico.

The curtsy of his lips makes Bianca smile too—laugh quietly, even. “Why are you smiling? You might die.”

“You’re smiling too,” Nico reminds her.

“Yeah, because—you’re smiling.” Bianca lets her laugh loose. Nico hasn’t heard it in years. “You’re turning this interrogation into a joke.”

“You can’t blame me.” Nico’s throat tightens and he relaxes in his seat. Even if it’s a terrible idea. “I’ve missed you.”

Bianca’s smile evaporates.

“You’re...dead in my world,” he explains. It took him months to accept that. Still takes him a while. Nico swallows hard as he watches her face pale. “You have been, I mean. Since I was ten.”

“What?” Bianca’s demeanor slips. “Jason found us when you were ten. He guided us to the Wolf House and we’ve been friends ever since.”

“Family,” Jason interjects. Both di Angelos forget he’s in the room.

“I’m Greek,” Nico says. “When I was ten, we were found by Percy Jackson. You...joined Artemis and her hunters and. You died.”

“Clearly she’s alive,” Jason says. His voice is tight.

“Hush,” both Nico and Bianca say in unison. The duet takes Nico by surprise—he jumps as he hears Bianca’s tone mix with his own for the first time since they were young. He looks at his sister again—the one with the beautiful braid interlocked in her hair and the freckles that still make her look like Nico’s big sister. The tears glisten in his eyes, even if he doesn’t want them to, and the smile fades across his face; a gesture he’s become so used to in the past several years.

“Hey,” Bianca murmurs. Her expression shrivels and she reaches out across the table. Nico meets her half way and allows her to grip his hand tightly and squeeze it. “Hey. Don’t cry.”

“I—I’ve missed you.” The words croak from Nico’s mouth and he wipes his tears on his shirt. A laugh falls from his lips and Nico wonders how it’s gotten so bitter after all these years. Gods, he thinks. For every day that he’s lived, Nico has thought of nothing but bringing his sister back. Bianca is his world that exists so sporadically for Nico that a bit of himself chips away every day that they aren’t together.

Here she is, standing in front of him, touching him, and staring at him. She’s alive and all of it seems so easy but Nico is too afraid of losing her to question it.                                                                                                       

Eventually the touch is too much. It burns against his flesh because he can’t be happy unless Hazel is there. Nico is nothing without Hazel but lost without Bianca and he can’t afford being either one without driving himself insane.

“I was mad at you the last time that I saw you,” Nico confesses miserably. He can’t control the tremors of his voice or his emotions as they pelt at his unshielded heart for the first time in years. Nico can’t hide from Bianca. He can’t be bothered to try. “But I…I-I wanted you to be safe. I made someone make a promise I know now I shouldn’t have expected him to keep, ignored all of those dreams and nightmares and—and I lost you. Because I was weak. And I try—every day—to find you and come to terms with you but I can’t. Because you’re my sister, and I love you, and…”

He trembles. Nico can’t finish that sentence without the possibility of bursting into real tears.

As the frustration swells in his throat, he feels Jason reach over and squeeze his shoulder tightly. Through his bangs he watches Jason’s stern face morph until it’s soft. Argentum nudges Nico’s knee and keens against him.

“He’s not lying,” Jason murmurs.

“I’m sorry that I lied to you,” Nico continues. He honestly, honestly means it, but the shields in his chest wane and weaken his coherent heart. “I just—saw you. And I wanted to please you and show you everything that I haven’t been able to in four years.” To hug her, hold her, and know that she won’t disappear right before his eyes when he blinks at the wrong time.

She stands to her feet. The roman braid courses down her collarbone and dips at her t-shirt before she burns a path around her desk and—hesitates, two steps away from Nico.

He reaches out for her and hugs her, as him, for the first time in four years.

“Ti voglio tanto bene.”  Nico breathes in harshly and sucks in the sensation of Bianca’s pulse pressed against his own. He holds her short body and hides the tears in his eyes.

“I love you too,” Bianca quietly says.

-x-

“What’s with you and not staying on the ground?”

Jason slowly turns from his nest in Thalia’s tree. He casts a glance to Roman Nico, whose face is darkening with the shadows of the forest. A mischievous smile curls against those lips, with a madman glint in Roman Nico’s eyes that makes him shudder. Jason can’t help but feel grateful that even in a different universe, Nico still has those dark eyes that send chills up Jason’s spine and make his heart flutter. Jason sidles down the tree and perches against the trunk. “It’s my sister.”

“Oh.” Nico’s nose crinkles and he settles beside Jason. The crew cut on those once-curls makes it easy to see Roman Nico’s eyes, unsheathed, and Jason’s chest soars all over again. Roman Nico snorts eerily in the way Greek Nico would and extends a second goblet toward Jason. “I wonder how many non-demigods would listen to this conversation and think it makes sense.”

It takes a moment before Jason remembers Nico has only been exposed to the mythological world for five years, Greek or not. He mutters thank you for the goblet and chuckles. “Purple Gatorade, please.”

The goblet hums as it fills to the tip. Jason sips it silently until it’s half-full and it magically swells with Gatorade once more. He looks up and catches Nico staring at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Roman Nico murmurs. A smile coils at the edge of his lip and he leans back. “My Jason likes blue.”

The my puts Jason settles Jason’s nerves. He’s used to calling their Nico his Nico and hates getting confused over it. Usually Jason ends up descending into a really bad headache and has to disappear for hours to keep himself level-headed. However—he nurses on his goblet and stares at the sunset like it has the answers.

“So you have a sister?” Roman Nico asks quietly once sun is completely gone. Camp lights up with torches filled with Greek fire and through the distance, they see campers filing toward the bonfire. Jason can’t place his finger on how the silence feels, but he knows they’re both itching to talk. To say anything. “I mean—you have siblings from Jupiter in general, but—a sister, like me and Bianca? Or Hazel and me?”

“Yeah,” Jason says. Instinctively, he runs his fingers down the several scales of dark bark and lets every groove catch the pads of his fingers. Sometimes he thinks he can feel Thalia’s heartbeat pulsing against his palm. “She…she’s not a nymph or anything. Juno, as Hera, chased her down a lot way back when and tried to kill her. Then, when Thalia was at the brink of death…she got turned into this tree.”

“Oh.” Roman Nico falls silent again. He stares at the pomegranate juice as it reappears in his goblet and says nothing.

“She’s not a tree anymore,” Jason continues, his voice assuring. “Percy got the Golden Fleece and put it on her, so she turned back into a human. She’s Artemis’s lieutenant now.”

Roman Nico frowns. “You mean Diana.”

“No. Artemis.” Jason watches as Nico’s lips only twist further into a half-grimace, half-scowl before he gathers the nerve and claps a hand on Roman Nico’s shoulder. “You get to know the difference between their Greek and Roman forms. Trust me.”

“I never thought I would have to.” Roman Nico nods carefully at Jason’s assurance, but he looks unconvinced. He clasps his callused hands around his goblet and keeps his mouth in a straight line. “Hazel told me that you’re not actually Greek. You’re Roman.”

“Oh?” Jason shrugs when Roman Nico’s eyebrow darts into the air. He isn’t trying to keep it a secret. The day’s been really long and he suspects that tonight is going to be even longer.

“You were a praetor. A leader. Everyone looked up to you, even more than Reyna and Frankie.” Nico grips the base of his goblet and shakes his head in pertinent disapproval. “I wouldn’t be able to do it. I wouldn’t abandon my comrades.” 

“I didn’t abandon them, Nico.” Jason takes great offense to that. He feels the coldness in his voice and even sees Roman Nico’s eyes flicker just a millimeter in surprise. The subject doesn’t arise often, but Jason knows that he’s a controversial topic amongst his own people. Octavian says he’s not an integrator, but a deserter. Others wonder what gives him the right to still be a leader if he’s been gone for nine months.

He stopped caring a long time ago.

Labels are labels, Nico—his Nico—told him when it first became an issue. Jason still remembers the nonchalant shrug Nico gave him—the tiniest twitch—and the glimmer in those genius eyes. It doesn’t matter what people said about you, Nico continued back then, because so long as you hold your head high, nothing else matters. You do what you do. It’s not your fault you have an audience for it.

“I did what was expected of me,” Jason continues. Roman Nico locks eyes with him and Jason doesn’t back down. “I became centurion and then I became a praetor. The only thing that I did by myself was choose the Fifth Cohort. Everyone criticized me for it, too.”

Nico’s eyebrows quirk briefly, and Jason assumes the other Jason did the same thing.

“I thought I was an orphan. The Fifth Cohort became my family, but most of them had families of their own. Some of them had been there for generations, but my family was Juno, who nudged me in whatever direction she thought was right.When I turned fifteen, I found out I could live outside that norm. I could have my ideas heard and not have them scorned because they went against tradition, and I found out that I had a sister who hadn’t seen me since I was two, and a mother that was dead.” Jason wraps his forearm around the base of the tree and scrunched his nose. “I had to wait thirteen years to find solace. This place makes me feel peace in a way that Camp Jupiter didn’t.”

Another frown works its way across Nico’s face. He taps his cup with his fingers. “But you’re a praetor.”

“I was. I’m a head counselor now.” Jason chews on his lip and stares Nico down.

Roman Nico only gets more frustrated. “You were a camp leader. You met Juno’s expectations.”

“I didn’t meet mine,” Jason quips back. He shrugs and tries to remember what being promoted to praetor felt like.  It wasn’t fun. He remembers being proud for the first ten minutes with all of his comrades cheering him on, and the rest of his reign being filled with uncertainty. As a camp counselor, he feels that strain, but it’s not because he can’t express himself. Jason worries about Juno, about Jupiter, and whether or not he’ll succeed, but he never once has to have someone else think for him so he doesn’t screw up as Jupiter’s son and Juno’s champion. “Do you think you can look me in the eye and tell me your Jason isn’t just a little miserable?”

“He’s not.” It’s Roman Nico’s turn to get offended. “He’s a praetor and really proud of it.”

“You don’t think that he wants more sometimes? For different possibilities and to create new traditions?” Jason strokes his own arm and feels cold. Guilt and bitter resentment comes back from when he was still a praetor, back when he had slain Krios with his own hands. He remembers the blood dripping down the contour of his cheek, glistening over his vision with one shoulder swollen and a sprained wrist from wielding his sword.

The Legion celebrated as much as they mourned, shouting his name through New Rome and screaming victory for all. New Romans admired and congratulated them, and assisted with the graves for their losses. Soldiers became children the moment they saw their parents, and they ran toward each other in an embrace that was meant to last for all eternity.

But Jupiter never greeted Jason. Jason used to rationalize it in his head that his father was the god and was busy, but at the end of the day it never satisfied his query of what Jupiter actually thought of him. He sees Percy and Nico now, interacting with Poseidon and Hades in the most organic and natural way, and he can’t help but feel the ache in his chest because Jason has tried and Jupiter hasn’t cared.

The only god to ever seek him out is Juno, and Jason hates her for everything she stands for and for every fiber of her being.

“He doesn’t,” Roman Nico continues. The venom in his voice pulls Jason straight back, reminding him that he’s in the middle of a conversation and not the eternal battle in his mind. Nico’s tan face flushes red with anger and it shocks Jason because the ground actually trembles. “He’s proud of who he is and where he came from! He leads us! He’s led me! Just because you can’t speak with the same pride he does as a Roman officer does not make you any more of a demigod than him! It makes you less!”

Jason doesn’t let the words hurt him. He taps his goblet and stares at Roman Nico solidly. “You don’t think he wishes for more?”

His tone is calm. Soothing. Jason uses it all the time without realizing it when it comes to his own Nico, to quell Nico’s thoughts and put them both at ease. Roman Nico blinks at him, realizing that the tenor of Jason’s voice isn’t for a fight, but genuine curiosity.

“I—I don’t,” Roman Nico spats. He doesn’t yell or threaten Jason, but he isn’t happy.

“Then I envy him,” Jason says.

-x-

“This is where you usually sleep,” Frank says. Their bunk is four beds down from the door, decorated with two chests that Nico assumes are filled with clothes. He stands awkwardly at the entry of the barracks, fisting the hilt of his sword carefully before sauntering in.

Nico stretches out his limbs and unsheathes everything on the bottom bunk. Next to the window sill, he finds a collection of…Mythomagic toys. Nico stares at them carefully, along with one of the two gold trophies.

12^th Annual National Mythomagic Tournament

Nico di Angelo

1^st Place Mytho Master

Wow. Nico fidgets. He’s tempted to reach for the deck kept in his jacket—but remembers that it’s still missing. Nico scans the rest of the sill. Feels his heart ache when he sees the Hades figurine—bright and shiny in the center of things.

Chewing on his lip, Nico picks it up and inspects the quality. Top of the line, fantastic condition. Nico has no doubt in his mind that the other Nico takes perfect care of it.

“Um,” Frank starts, so Nico immediately turns his head. Frank grimaces nervously. “That’s…his most prized possession. I wouldn’t…I mean—”

“I understand.” Nico hears his voice crack. He places the figurine down gently and goes back to inspecting his bed. Nico gets as far as chucking off his shoes before Frank turns around again.

“You’re not…” Frank begins his sentence, then grimaces. He shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah?” Nico asks.

“You’re not—like, gonna summon ghosts while I’m asleep and let them overshadow me, right? I won’t become an overlord of the dead?”

What? Nico’s nose crinkles and he whirls around in utter confusion. He waits for Frank to elaborate.

Frank, however, digs his foot into the ground and looks elsewhere, at the ceiling. He tugs on the collar of his t-shirt and shrugs. “Please say something.”

“I…uh,” Nico murmurs, his voice low and tired, “I’ve never met a ghost who can…do that.”

As he waits, Frank’s demeanor morphs into six different faces. His hands shove in and out of his pockets and he wiggles around awkwardly, some keening sound emerging from the back of his throat. “You’re not pulling my chain?”

“I swear on my life as a demigod.” Ebony eyebrows flatten, merging together in disbelief. Nico hasn’t seen Frank act this squeamish since before the war, and he doesn’t know how to stomach this. Frank is kind and firm—but this Frank is still twitchy. “I’ve never met a ghost that can possess other people.”

“Can you?”

“I can’t,” he assures.

“Can they shoot ectoplasm?”

“I’m not even sure what that is.” Nico’s eyebrows make one straight line and he shakes his head. He and Frank have a civilized relationship but most of what this Frank blabbers sounds like Percy without the natural tendency to be impulsive.

“Okay,” Frank says finally. He settles into himself, posture slacking and a sigh of relief flowing out of his mouth. Then, he waltzes over to where Nico is standing and yanks out several sets of clothes. It takes a moment before Nico realizes all of it is for him. “You might want to wear a Camp Jupiter shirt. You’ll blend in better that way.”

The lie Bianca and Jason settled on was that a god altered Nico’s appearance enough to confuse people and gave him selective memory. Frank was the only one informed of the truth since he and the other Nico were apparently best friends. Nico is to stay with his sister, Jason, or Frank at all times so people won’t get suspicious.

“People really believe that I don’t have my memories?” Nico decides to ask. He chucks off his t-shirt and puts on the purple shirt. It doesn’t make him feel any less exposed.

“It would explain why you were so confused when you got here.” Frank shrugs and grimaces. “You…tend to let your mouth speak before your brain.”

“So I’m like Percy.” Nico groans. It’s the last thing he would like to find out about himself.

“Who’s Percy?” His bunkmate frowns.

Ugh. Nico shivers. There’s no way he’s going to get used to this world. Since the conference back in the Praetor Office, he finds himself conflicted between staying and wanting to go. Nico wants to stay for Bianca. But he needs to leave, for Hazel.

He doesn’t belong here. And that pains him, but Nico can’t live in a world where Hazel can’t belong either. “Look…Frank. I’m—”

“Frankie.”

“I beg your pardon?” Nico’s face scrunches and he reaches to shove his hands in his jacket before remembering it isn’t with him. Another groan escapes his lips and he presses a hand to his temples.

“Frankie.” Frank blinks in surprise, his own eyebrows high in the air. “You call me that. Everyone calls me that because of you.”

Oh. Nico didn’t intend to sound impersonal, but it’s second nature to him. Frank actually looks hurt though, now that Nico can’t switch gears fast enough to accommodate with the new nickname. His own demeanor twists and he settles onto the bed.

“We’re close in your universe, right?” Frankie suddenly blinks. He looks back and forth in the barracks before realizing that it’s empty. Then, he starts whispering. “You and me?”

“You’re dating my sister.” Nico has no choice but to be close-ish to Frank.

“Really?” The giddy tone of Frankie’s voice doesn’t escape Nico’s ears. Cocking his head, he suddenly realizes Frankie has this dazed look on his face, happy and swoony.Frankie perks, standing two feet taller, and grins from cheek-to-cheek. “Me and Bianca?”

Oh, gods. Nico’s face shrivels so fast that he swears he gets an ulcer. “No.”

“Oh.” And then Frankie looks sad again. “Is she as cool as Bianca?”

“No,” Nico snaps, and he resists the urge to smack Frankie when he sees this demigod pouting. It hits him that Frankie is attracted to his sister—the wrong sister—and Nico can’t make right of that, either.

His frustration translates back to his demeanor. He scowls up at Frankie—even if technically it isn’t an angry scowl, but a, ‘Why Do People Consider This Normal?’ grimace that he keeps especially for Percy and Leo.

Frankie’s demeanor slackens with nervousness. “Not a…big Frianca fan, I assume?”

“Is that a thing?”

“You coined it.” Frankie tugs at his t-shirt collar and stands erect. It’s funny how someone twice Nico’s size is also intimidated by him.

Nico sighs into his hand. Part of him wants to go big brother on the entire situation. He wants to tell Frankie to lay off, but considering what he’s seen today, he knows he shouldn’t break the mold of the other Nico’s world. Nico settles onto the bed and tries to put his hands in his jacket again before remembering it isn’t there for him.

“You okay?” Frankie asks him when Nico can’t pull himself together. He hesitates before plopping next to Nico.

“No.” Nico’s voice wavers. At this point he doesn’t even know who he’s addressing anymore. Hazel knows how to calm him down just from the way she smiles calms him down. He can’t enjoy this world without thinking about her, and if he tries to ignore Hazel for even a second, Nico knows he’s the scum of the earth.

“You can tell me, you know.” Frankie hesitates before clasping a hand over Nico’s. When Nico doesn’t slap it away, Frankie takes it as a sign to continue. “We’re best friends.”

“You’re not afraid of me?” Nico muses. His lips straighten to a tight, bitter smile, and he resorts to crossing his arms over his chest.

He waits, watching as Frankie’s demeanor twists uncertainly. Frankie asks, “No ectoplasm. For sure. Right?”

“I already said no.”

“Then no.”

Nico blinks. He frowns blatantly and watches Frankie shrug before his bunkmate actually relaxes beside him. Very few do that. In his own world, Hazel and Jason are the only ones who trust him more than they fear him. Percy’s on the same boat—which took years and several months of Jason nudging them into the same room for that to happen. Sometimes Nico thinks Percy makes a conscious effort of not grabbing Riptide to tear Nico limb from limb if he ever turns on them.

“Why?” Frankie asks blindly. “Are people scared of you in your world?”

“Yes.” Nico can’t help how thick the word sounds as it comes out of his mouth. His eyebrows knit together and he instinctively crosses his legs on the bed to make a barrier for himself.

Death is something everyone fears. Even Nico. Every day he deals with the erratic ticking of heartbeats within a ten-mile radius, and he’s conscious of his friends’ pulse—even when he doesn’t want to be. People look at him like he’ll reap their souls and question why death is on their camp. He learned a long time ago that labels weren’t important. People are going to judge him, question his loyalties, talk about him, no matter what side Nico’s interests really lay. Nico’s done good twice over now in both wars, tried to make peace and get intel, and Percy still looks at him like he may kill everyone in sight.

So it doesn’t matter. Do what you think is right. Hold your head high and stand your ground. That’s it. Nico’s told Jason the same thing for months, and he knows Jason treats his philosophy delicately.

“Why?” Frankie grimaces. “Do you, like, throw jewels at people or something?”

“That’s Hazel’s job,” Nico murmurs. Along with riding the scariest horse known to demigod and creating Mists so powerful that she can fool gods.

“Who’s Hazel? And why are people scared of you?”

“You don’t understand the concept of death that well. Do you?” Nico shakes his head in dismay and clasps his hands together over his lap.

Frankie falls silent. His smile falters with it and he stares at the ground, hands clenching and unclenching. “I do.”

Right. Nico’s heart drops and he recognizes that tone all too well. His chest tightens as he looks over to Frankie and remembers everything about that tone. Frankie’s voice is quiet and even a little shaky—the one he uses exclusively for his mother.

“Was my mother…?” Frankie gulps. Dead is the word that fails to leave his mouth. “In your world?”

“Yeah.” Nico lets go of the breath he’s holding and stares at his feet miserably.

“Ah.” Frankie falls silent, but Nico can tell that he’s disappointed. Heartbroken, even.

They fall into a heavy silence. Nico half expects Frankie to get up and leave since neither one of them can think of anything else to say. He draws in another breath, his hands curling against his lap, and quickly murmurs, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Frankie glosses over the apology like it isn’t a big deal. Nico knows that it is—but Frankie is at ease without getting into an elaborate discussion about it. He shrugs and smiles timidly at the ground. “You know what you did when we first met?”

No is sitting on Nico’s tongue. He shakes his head instead and opens himself up so Frankie knows he’s listening.

“I told you my mom was dead. Since your dad’s also the god of death, I thought…I dunno. You could summon her so that I could say goodbye.” Frankie touches his cheek and smiles sadly. “You blew out your hearing aid trying to get us to Ontario, but when we got to the cemetery, you—you couldn’t summon her.”

Nico fidgets. “Sometimes that isn’t a good idea.”

He’s got experience to back up that claim. Years and years of it, trying to find Bianca without going insane.

“Yeah. Well, when we got there, you raised someone else’s grave marker and nearly beheaded someone in effort to summon my mom.” Frankie touches his neck and shivers, obviously recalling the memory. “It was very gruesome.”

Ah. “Uh. Sorry.”

“Nah. It was funny. You apologized back then too.” Frankie sighs in relief and shrugs. “We’re okay.”

“You’re not scared of me.” Nico’s demeanor contorts with a frown. “You really aren’t.”

“I’m not,” Frankie assures. He contemplates his own words for a moment before grimacing. “You’re not gonna poke me with the bed supports, are you?”

“No…?”

“Then no.” Looking pleased with himself, Frankie nods reassuringly and stands to his feet. “You ready for dinner?”

Nico smiles.

-x-

“Impressive.”

Jason blinks and silently agrees with Piper’s exclamation. They sit on the sidelines of Roman Nico and Percy’s sparring match the morning after Roman Nico’s big appearance, joined by several other campers as the former two duke it out. The imperial gold sword looks odd in Nico’s grasp—in any incarnation—but Jason can’t deny that Nico wields it well.

Canoe lake water comes up to Percy’s ankles as he flicks his wrist and swings his sword, while Nico rotates big columns of earth around him like a shield.

Campers swarm the coast of their canoe lake, several cheering for Percy and others gawking at Nico’s powers. Jason hasn’t been watching long. He quickly woke up when a tidal wave made contact with the roof of his cabin, and after one obvious explanation, went running.

“You can’t beat me!” Roman Nico gloats in a way that Greek Nico never would. He grins from cheek-to-cheek, with just a finger maneuvering his barrier. “Your sword is useless.”

“Haven’t you ever played pokemon?” Percy smirks back, unscathed by Roman Nico’s declaration. “Steel and Rock types are weak against water!”

“I’ve played every pokemon game!” Roman Nico exclaims. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. “Just wait until I give you a bloody nose!”

“Not if I land a critical hit!”

“Highly unlikely!”

“Nico and Percy are getting along,” Hazel says faintly. She clasps a hand over her mouth, pulls it away, presses her lips together, lets her jaw dangle at the ground, and looks stumped. Jason can’t blame her. “I’ve seen everything.”

“It’s not like our Nico doesn’t get along with Percy,” Frank reminds her, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less astounded. “I just—oh my gods, he’s smiling.”

Jason feels a tiny ball of jealousy kneading at his insides shamelessly. He wants to sit back and stay quiet—but their argument the night before comes to the front of his mind. After Jason emphasized how much happier he was as a useless graecus, Roman Nico stormed off and Jason hadn’t seen him since.

Until now.

Jokes aside, Percy thoughtfully caps Riptide and shoves the pen back in his pocket. He smirks before waving a hand in the air. A coil of water trails after him, and he thrusts it toward Nico.

Instantly, Roman Nico pounds the air with his fists. His columns fall around him, covering Nico like an earthy force field, and water slaps him with the force of a typhoon.

As soon as Percy knows Nico is incapacitated, he lunges forward, Riptide suddenly unsheathed, and—

—gets the tip of his celestial bronze sword shoved deep into the dirt.

Percy yelps in surprise, suddenly faceplanting when his leverage is literally taken out of his grasp, and hits his head against the barrier. “Owww—”

“Got you.” Roman Nico burrows out of the ground, roughly half a foot away from Riptide. He swiftly pins the edge of his gladius against Percy’s neck and the mischievous grin over his face is seen by everyone.  

“Ugh.” Percy groans loudly. “Super effective.”

The crowd erupts in applauds and cheers, and even Jason can’t help a clap or two. He stares in amazement while Roman Nico yanks Percy from the ground. The younger demigod is a good four or five inches shorter than Percy, but he holds himself high with that charming smile.

“And here I thought you were just an idiot,” Roman Nico says brazenly. “Looks like you’re more than that. You’re an idiot that I can almost take seriously in a battle.”

For a moment, Percy looks satisfied with Roman Nico’s conclusion, but Jason knows that the second half of that sentence is now rubbing Percy the wrong way. Percy arches an eyebrow, his lips still curled into a smirk—although one that’s way less approving—and folds his arms. “You weren’t trying to kill me like you’re supposed to?”

The edge of Jason’s lips curls into a subtle smile. Roman Nico was right—mortals wouldn’t have a clue how to follow conversations like this one.

“S’not like you were trying to kill me,” Nico protests. He leaves it at that—and Percy doesn’t put up a fight.

In fact, Jason watches Percy’s eyes flicker from Nico, to the hearing aid, to Roman Nico again before Camp Halfblood’s leader consciously rubs his own arm. Percy has the decency to look embarrassed, at least.

Jason can’t blame him—water probably messes with them very badly. Having a good match is one thing, but Jason’s sure that the aid isn’t something that should be messed with in a fake fight. Percy usually lets loose and apologizes (a lot) later, but this is one match where he didn’t plan on screwing over Camp Halfblood’s special guest.

Which is probably why Roman Nico is mad.

Pulling out of his thoughts, Jason realizes that Nico is staring straight at him. Those madman eyes are dark, looking a little more insane with sunlight shining in them, but they don’t betray Roman Nico’s genuine demeanor of calmness. Roman Nico holds the hilt of his gladius (one that looks a lot like Jason’s) and stares expectantly at Jason.

“What?” Jason asks earnestly.

“Fight me,” Roman Nico says.

Jason’s hand flies to the hilt of his own gladius, the imperial gold sword stiff in his grip, and he stares at Roman Nico in disbelief. The next question at the tip of his tongue is why, but even Percy isn’t dumb enough to ask that question when it’s them.

“You scared?” Roman Nico continues. “Son of Jupiter?”

His tone is clipped and poignant. It rubs Jason in every wrong way possible and he stands tighter. Frowns, even. He doesn’t know what terms they’re on. Arguments with the Greek Nico vary in all shapes and sizes with different results at all times, but after Nico succumbed to Jason’s promises of trust and commitment, they always talked it out.

This isn’t talking it out.

Quite frankly, Jason is getting annoyed with Roman Nico’s insistence that Jason is pathetic for abandoning Rome.

“I won’t go easy on you.” Pushing through the horde of campers, Jason settles in front of Roman Nico and uses his height to his advantage. “Not like Percy.”

“We can take him two-on-one if you want,” Percy agrees. He rests an arm over Jason’s shoulder and smiles at their opponent intensely.

“No,” Roman Nico says, and he’s obviously surprised when Jason backs him up. The grin over his lips radiates with Pluto’s madman tendencies. He looks a little too alive to be a son of death; livid even, just from Jason’s one courteous response.

“Aw,” Percy says, but he’s far past this conversation. Instead, he walks off to the sidelines of their makeshift arena.

Annabeth swiftly makes her way to the center after a few nudges from Percy (with him chanting, “Athena! Fair war, fair war!”) and pinches the bridge of her nose from her boyfriend’s enthusiastic tactics. She stares at both Roman Nico and Jason, rolls her eyes at Percy, and puts an arm’s length of distance between them.

“This’ll be a fair fight,” she says, but Jason’s sure that both Roman Nico and he are big boys who won’t resort to cheating. “No killing, maiming, beheading, castrating, or any variation of the above allowed. Underst—”

“Feel free to cut off this ear,” Roman Nico interjects. He taps his earagain and a wily grin spread across his lips.

“Don’t plan on it,” Jason says flatly. He sighs and furrows his eyebrows together. “But thank you for the offer.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Ready?” Annabeth asks when she’s certain they won’t interrupt her again.

“Aut vincere aut mori.” Nico looks up to Jason with a half-smile. The glint in his eyes is desperately serious. It locks onto Jason, and he can feel Nico’s ambition through one quick glance. The grip on Nico’s gladius is firm.

“I won’t go easy on you,” Jason says.

“Go!”

The last thing Jason sees is Roman Nico’s maniacal grin—then he gets a slab of rock in the face.

-x-

“You’re not trying to hit me,” Nico snaps. He flings his sword into the ground and wipes the sweat off his brow.

A warm gust of air slaps him the face—intention unclear—and it only makes his scowl deepen. His mop of hair is combed and tied back (making Nico realize how long it’s gotten) since he refused to cut it in the standard crew cut. It makes the air flap against his bare neck and causes him to shiver, and Nico doesn’t know how much he likes that, either.

Praetor Jason looks to him with a frown, eyebrows clearly mushed together and javelin in hand. He leans against his venti steed, feet planted firmly to the ground, and sighs. In the sidelines, Bianca stands up, the same look of concern over her face like Jason’s.

They’re supposed to be close, she explained when they had breakfast this morning. Jason is the one who helped them when they were younger. He vouched for them to stay when Octavian demanded that they leave and for the first three years of camp, Bianca trained with Jason before Nico insisted to join the Legion as well.

She skips over some details, Nico notices. Bianca still has the habit of fleeing eye contact when she’s lying or if she’s nervous, but he doesn’t think it’s his place to ask why.

Jason doesn’t look too happy about Nico’s outburst. An irritating thought in the back of Nico’s mind wonders exactly what their relationship is. He tries to forget what he was like when he was ten, when the thought of being a demigod excited him the most.

Artemis isn’t here. She doesn’t recruit Bianca and take the most important person away from Nico’s life, so Bianca doesn’t die, and this Roman Nico doesn’t come into his own as a demigod until the age of thirteen.

This Nico is probably happier; a little more innocent and oblivious to the things that happen outside of New Rome. And…it wouldn’t surprise Nico if this world’s Nico still has the same mindset and optimism and complete trust in everyone around him—and is loyally, hopelessly, and shamelessly in love with Praetor Jason.

Maybe Nico needs to be less brash with this Jason. (Maybe he needs to be a little more.)

“I’m just trying to gauge your powers,” Jason fusses. His tone is a like a dagger, precisely cutting through Nico’s frustrating overabundance of irritation. It bruises Nico’s ego along with it, because that’s exactly what his Jason does. But his Jason has the modesty to be less in-your-face and domineering about it. “I don’t know the differences between you and my Nico, okay? At least this way I don’t accidentally kill you in the process because you’re weaker. It’s not like I intend to cut off his ear.”

“How does that benefit any of us?” Nico rages on. He doesn’t like it when people use that tone on him. It takes him a moment to realize this is exactly what the beginnings of his relationship with his own Jason was like. Patient, but frustrated. Kind, but strategically planned. But overall, Nico respects and appreciates his Jason. Because his Jason actually listens. “You’re sparring with me. You think a monster is going to be nice enough to avoid a disabled kid’s ear when it tries to kill him?”

He watches Praetor Jason’s jaw unhinge. There’s something oddly satisfying about that.

“Nico,” Bianca says. Her voice is cautious, yet annoyed. Nico’s heard it a thousand times. He’s ignored it a thousand times, too.

It amazes him how instinctively he wants to shrug off her warnings like he’s ten years old again. Nico sucks in a deep breath and fixes his posture. His mind is still whirling in a big ball of frustration and he tries to calm it. Maybe he’s just used to being with Jason. But he doesn’t like how untrusting he feels around Jason or how it’s leaking onto Bianca, too.

Nico doesn’t really like how he was, before Percy, Hazel, and Jason forced him to open up.

“I’m sorry.” He swallows hard and tries to stomach his frustration. Can’t. “That was rude.”

“Nico,” Bianca chides again, and Nico can’t ignore the mirth that bubbles in his chest. He clears his throat and tries to hide his smile, but can’t.

Praetor Jason arches an eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry,” Nico says this time. He tries to mean it and release some of his frustrations, but this just feels…unnatural.

“We can talk later.” Jason’s voice is soft and understanding.

The honey-like tenor makes the blood in Nico’s veins turn to ice. He feels the air swell in his lungs and stops short of his next breath. Nico didn’t realize how much he misses it. That voice with Jason’s compassion and honesty shining through like a pure, cool breeze.

“You don’t have to go easy on me,” Nico supplies weakly. He has a venomous retort at the back of his throat, but it simmers down and he’s back in the endless loop of missing Hazel and Frank and Jason and actually liking his old life, even without Bianca, and wanting things to be exactly like they are now.

“I know—I just—” Surprisingly, Nico can see the crack in Praetor Jason’s armor. The other side is soft and sweet and tender and so much like Nico’s Jason that it hurts. It’s astonishing how this purity of Jason’s personality feels real, but veiled. What Nico sees is the true Jason—no matter what incarnation is out there.

“I’ll try,” Praetor Jason concludes. He pinches the bridge of his nose, looking unhappy with the decision, but Nico doubts he’ll go against it.

“Good,” Nico says back. His heart tremors.

They both have hard time getting those words out.

-x-

The fight is harder than Jason expects. He doesn’t know why he anticipated it to be easy. Roman Nico truly does not get enough recognition or praise in his own world. Jason can see it in Nico’s eyes—the passion, the excitement, the eagerness to please, the utter devotion to being Roman with a trace of being his own self.

(Jason wonders if their Nico would be happier as a Roman. Bianca would still be there, and their Nico would be able to smile. And…Jason would be there, if his Nico would want him to be.)

The thought doesn’t last long.

Swiveling his body, Jason nearly finds himself getting smacked in the head for the second time today by a big column of schist lifted from the canoe lake. He puts up resistance and slows its ascent, but still nearly gets hit in the face.

Roman Nico stands pertinently on the ground, a cheeky smile on his face that makes him look like a kid again. It’s always a look like that that sends chills up Jason’s spine because that’s how their Nico could be smiling.

(Even though Jason swears he can live off the tiny, fragile ones that are just as real as Roman Nico’s shiny ones; the ones that look frail but show a strong young man who’s faced everything.)

With a conflicted heart, Jason begins his descent toward the ground and creates a spiral around him. Their field is set in the eye of a miniature storm, zephyrs made of walls isolating them from the rest of the camp. A trail of lightning ricochets off of the cylinder, crackling with the booming sounds of thunder.

He can feel the strain and the livid energy flowing through him, but Roman Nico’s demeanor is like a beacon that Jason can’t shake from his ministrations. Roman Nico’s expression twists, and his eyes widen ever-so slightly—

I don’t plan on hitting you, silly, Jason can’t help but think. The thought is very much Percy, but Jason ignores that.

Out of nowhere, Roman Nico kicks his foot into dirt. A sliver of it enters Jason’s air current and turns it into a sandstorm. The sliver becomes a wave, and Jason has to cover his eyes so he doesn’t get blinded by the dust.

He barely gets the chance to see Roman Nico charge forward. Nico grins from cheek-to-cheek. “Gotcha.”

-x-

“No, you don’t.” in Praetor Jason’s tone is electrifying. Their swords meet with a violent CLANG, and Nico feels a jolt course through his veins and twists his body to avoid a hand in his face. Jason’s fingers crackle with lightning, only a hair’s length away from sending the current into Nico’s own skin.

But Nico sees it. He drops to the ground and roundhouse kicks his opponent into the dirt.

Despite the obvious size difference between them, Nico jabs his ankle into Praetor Jason’s with enough force that Jason at least doubles over. Which is when Nico slams the hilt of his sword into Jason’s breastplate. The force sends Praetor Jason’s heartbeat in tingling waves into Nico’s skin. Nico can hear the hiccup in Jason’s breath as their pulses just synergize, and he butts his sword in a broader motion to push Jason back.

Dozens of people watch on in the New Roman Coliseum, and Nico’s painstaking ability lets him hear everyone’s heart skip a beat like an intense vibrato. Bianca stands to her feet, at edge in the spectator’s seat, and the fight carries on.

The winds pick up around them, swirling—

-x-

—and Jason watches Roman Nico’s feet dangle from the ground, the earth’s hold no longer a friend to the boy of the Underworld. Roman Nico yelps while Jason catches his breath and watches on.

Then—Roman Nico waves his hand once he has a grip on a zone where he practically has no gravity, and Jason’s sword suddenly swings in the opposite direction of their fight.

“Whoa—” Jason chokes as he’s flung into the barrier of their arena. Dirt lodges into his lungs, clogging him like cement through a rubber pipe, and he chokes, unbidden by everything else around him.

He glances up. Sees Roman Nico’s triumphant look of victory once the younger demigod can plant his feet to the ground again.

-x-

Praetor Jason stumbles backward, hand clutching his chest in pain.

Swallowing hard, Nico moves his Stygian iron sword like the wand of a conductor of an orchestra. Instead of violins, there are souls—Jason’s soul—that moves like the strings of a marionette. Nico knows that it hurts.

The chills travel up Jason’s spine—like thousands of termites crawling over a dry corpse and trying to gnaw the soul free. Nico doesn’t intend to suck it out, but he knows that being on the brink is almost as scary as having it happen.

The audience gasps and murmurs and shout with worry, and Bianca’s jaw drops to the ground. Blue eyes look to Nico, skin nearly matching their tone, and—

And Nico has to let go of his grip over Jason’s soul because the look hurts too much.

-x-

Jason lunges into the water. He isn’t a son of Poseidon like Percy, but the sand is in his lungs and eyes and anything is better than sucking in dry air and taking dust along with it. The typhoon around them diminishes with Jason no longer able to concentrate on his element. He reaches the lake, open-eyed and open-mouthed, chokes again, and scrambles for a leg of the dock nearest to him.

-x-

Praetor Jason collapses, lungs sucking in as much oxygen as they can find. His heart beat is erratic, pulse sounding like an alarm in the shells of Nico’s ears.

-x-

The air around Jason rejuvenates him with strength. Through blurry eyes, he watches Roman Nico racing to the dock, sword forgotten and armor flying off with each step until he’s bare again, orange t-shirt looking odd against his skin and jeans sagging off his skinny body.

A crowd follows, dodging as Nico tosses the armor aside. He looks shaken, body trembling out of obvious fear. “Jason—I am so—HOLY PLUTO—”

Jason yanks him by the arm and pulls Nico off the dock. He catches Roman Nico before the latter can plummet into water, and grins against Nico’s screams.

His arm wraps perfectly around that lithe torso, and a sullen thought enters Jason’s mind. They may be two different Nicos, but they fit the same way against him.

When he looks over, Jason finds Nico twitching uncontrollably and glaring at the water.

“I hate you,” Roman Nico announces flatly.

“I win.” Jason grins.

-x-

Nico approaches his heaving opponent—comrade—slowly and drops to his knees.

Praetor Jason stutters on his next breath, but it’s clear that the air is making him feel like himself again. A dagger of guilt kneads at Nico’s side, and the chills run up his spine.

It’s not an image that he enjoys.

“Not bad,” Praetor Jason breathes gruffly, despite the fact uttering those words looks like it’s going to kill him.

Red flushes in Nico’s cheeks, despite his shaky hands. He remembers—barely—to draw his sword and press the end of his dark blade against Jason’s neck. The praetor actually lifts his head, to show the flesh of his neck between the imperial gold helm and breastplate.

The crowd cheers, victor clear.

-x-

Later that night, camp activities continue as usual. Percy proposes that they sing Hymns to Jupiter for Jason’s victory—then proceeds to butcher every single word until it sounds like the Wheels on the Bus go BOOM BOOM CLAP and manages to get the rest of the campers to follow with him.

Jason eats dinner alone, body still tingling from when he embraced Roman Nico so intimately. He doesn’t want to be frustrated and doesn’t want to be lost in his thoughts, but as soon as Jason dwells, he can’t stop. His heart can’t stop racing and Jason doesn’t know if he wants to stop it.

(Except as it races, it aches, and that doesn’t make Jason feel any better.)

Piper and Leo leave him alone, which he appreciates. After two years of friendship, Leo’s concluded that the “higher Jason gets,” the less he’ll lower his guard to talk to anyone.

So he does what he does best, and Jason perches on a rooftop for what feels like the umpteenth time since Roman Nico’s arrival. (This time it’s the pegasi stables. Jason figures that the quiet whinnying may help him think.)

He misses their Nico. His Nico.

Part of it, he realizes, is because he knows his Nico in and out, and his Nico trusts him, unbidden. Roman Nico has a specific image of him that Jason unfortunately doesn’t meet because that was the Jason of the past. And he wasn’t happy. Jason recalls the images he saw with his Nico while they were in Split, where the younger Nico was purely and positively smitten with Percy, to the point that devotion still follows Nico today and sometimes it hurts. If Roman Nico has at least one thing in common with the other Nico, it’s that he’s loyal.

And Roman Nico can’t be loyal to Jason if he isn’t the praetor and senate to his people.

But Jason can’t be loyal to himself if he goes back to that and picks it up like nothing has changed for the better.

Maybe…maybe he didn’t change for the better.

“…was wrong.”

Jason snaps out of his ministrations. He blinks owlishly, the voice registering almost somberly in his mind. It’s the essence of their Nico—quiet and soft-spoken, but serious, like he’s putting the world at stake just by talking. He scurries across the rooftop—silently—and ducks his head against the window of the stables.

It’s not his Nico.

Instead, Roman Nico and Hazel are in view, sitting on a stack of hay and alternating between talking and fetching things for the pegasi.

“You weren’t too happy after he shoved you in the water,” Hazel speculates. She hesitates before adding some signs to her line of speech and ever-so-often, Nico corrects her gestures. “I mean, it probably wasn’t fair—”

“No. No one called the score yet, but it was fair. And I was happy—really happy.” Roman Nico sucks in a breath and hugs his knees to his chest. He has the face and even the look on his face looks so cautious and hopeful and distrusting at the same time. It’s a glimpse of what Jason’s Nico looks like and he—doesn’t know if he should be relishing the thought. “No one takes me seriously at the other camp. Especially not him.”

It takes Jason a second to realize that they’re discussing him.

“We had a fight last night,” Roman Nico confesses. His cheeks waver a slight pink over the comment and his hands fumble together. “I told him how he’s less than Roman and even less than a person because he’s no longer a legionnaire.”

Yeah. That hurt.

“And he—he was trying to tell me that he’s honestly happier this way!” Nico tosses his hands in the air, gets lost in his own frustration, and he shakes his head in disapproval along with it. “Him! Jason Grace, my hero, was miserable at being—at being a hero!”

Jason sucks the inside of his mouth and folds his arms together. His chest tingles, but he doesn’t know if it’s because the declaration flatters him or if it makes him even more nauseous.

“”Yeah,” Hazel says, “I didn’t like him too much for a while. He didn’t trust you.”

It breaks Jason’s heart as he watches Roman Nico’s eyebrows furrow together and lips contort in a frown. Roman Nico honestly looks hurt at the new piece of information, like it physically ripped him apart before he taps his hands into his knees and stare at the ground.

“Why?” Roman Nico asks, and it’s the quietest he’s been since they met him.

“It was when we were at war two years ago,” Hazel explains. She seems to sense the uncertainty and brokenness of his voice. “He…well, Juno put Percy in Camp Jupiter and Jason in Camp Halfblood, and our Nico at the time was the only one who knew that two camps existed. But there was a gap of time between finding Jason and Percy. Eight months, I think. Everyone was frustrated because it would have saved a lot of time if he just led us there, so then people wondered if he was on Gaea’s side instead of ours.”

“I would never turn my back on my friends!” Roman Nico hisses. He stands to his feet and throws his hands in the air.

Hazel doesn’t even blink. She reluctantly signs again. “Yeah, but you and my brother…you’re different. Very different.”

“How?” Roman Nico sounds legitimately offended at the idea of ever betraying his Jason’s trust. His hands shake and he knots them into fists before pacing about the small space.

“You trust more than he does. It took a long time before my brother realized that he didn’t have to run away from everything that came his way. Sometimes he still gets like that and thinks the only way to solve problems is if he does it himself. Nico—” Hazel stands up too when she sense that Nico isn’t going to calm down. “—I’m not saying that my brother is bad. He’s good, but sometimes people look at him for being the Son of Death and think that he’s evil when he’s not. I think he has to remind himself sometimes that he isn’t all that bad.”

She curls her hands over his shoulders gently but they still quake beneath her grip. Roman Nico is pale—not as pale as their Nico, but shaken by the thought. He stares at her, gaze tense. “I would never betray you.”

“I know.” Hazel sighs quietly.

“You’re my sister,” Roman Nico says. He then reaffirms, “I would never betray you.”

A smile curls against Hazel’s lips. It spreads until it stretches from cheek-to-cheek and she stares at Roman Nico, teary-eyed, and stands to the tips of her toes to throw her arms around him.

Roman Nico hugs her back and softly chuckles against her hair. “You didn’t think otherwise, did you?”

“No,” Hazel frankly replies, “well—yes, maybe.” She sniffles a little through her tears and wipes them off her face. To both Jason and her surprise, Roman Nico smiles and wipes off a salty bead as it dribbles down her cheek. “I just—I thought that I could never be the same way that…th-that Bianca is to you.”

“You can’t.” Roman Nico frowns. “Bianca is Bianca. But—you’re you. I can’t compare the both of you. That’s not fair to anyone.”

Hazel struggles as she sighs and wipes the tears from her eyes.

“But I like you like a sister as much as I like her. I’m gonna try and find a way to get my you out of the Underworld,” Roman Nico says. “I promise.”

She hiccups and smiles through her tears—some that Jason knows their Nico has always tried hard to keep from falling. Because in any and every universe, Nico di Angelo loves Hazel Levesque.