Archive of Our Own ^beta

And the seasons, they go round and round

And the painted ponies go up and down

We're captive on the carousel of time

We can't return, we can only look

Behind, from where we came

And go round and round and round, in the circle game

Strawberry gelato slipped down the cracks of Nico's fingers, staining his hand pink. Bianca, his older sister, managed to eat hers without making a mess, barring the little wisps of a chocolate mustache forming above her lips. 

Both were dressed in their school uniforms—Nico's white polo stained with the reminisce of childhood play—sitting beside a pier, overlooking the deep canals of Venice. The water was translucent, crystal in color, showing their gelato-stained reflections.

Music rang from a local carnival; intertwined with the laughter of their classmates and friends. 

"Possiamo andare, Bianca?" Nico asked, licking the remnants of gelato from his fingers. "Por favore?¹ " (Can we go, Bianca? Please? )

"La mamma è al lavoro," said Bianca, "E non abbiamo soldi." ( Mom is at work, and we have no money. )

"Possiamo solo guardare!" ( We can just look! )

"Va bene," Bianca relented, "Andiamo."( Alright, let's go )

Nico jumped up, nearly knocking his chair over as he did so. "Grazie!" He grinned, "Grazie, Bianca." He ran towards the carnival, leaving his sister in his wake. ( Thank you, thank you, Bianca )

"Prego," Bianca mumbled under her breath as she got up to follow, having to run since Nico was no longer in her eye sight.( You're welcome )

She found him beside a circle ride with little painted ponies, spinning consistently in one direction the way time ticked. There were children on them, laughing in time to the music. 

Nico was pressed against a fence, watching with widened eyes. A little boy was waving at him from atop a horse with a violet plume attached to its mane. 

"Cos'è?" asked Nico. ( What's that? )

"Non lo so" responded Bianca. (I don't know)

She looked around and caught sight of a little sign proclaiming: Giostra. 100 lire a persona.  "È una giostra." (Carousel, 100 lire per person. 'It's a carousel'.)

"Vorrei che avessiamo soldi." (I wish we had money.)

The two kids left the carousel, instead walking around the pier with glum looks on their faces. They passed shops and bottle tosses, though they could not participate in any.

"Bianca, guarda là." Nico pointed at the ground a little ways away and ran over, leaning down to pick up a shiny 200 lira coin. "Giostra?" (Bianca, look over there)

Bianca grinned, nodding slightly, allowing Nico to guide her to the carousel by the hand.

Jar in hand, Nico slipped out of the hotel and onto the streets, Bianca close behind. The sun was high in the sky, the air muggy and hot and smelling slightly of the past thunderstorm that had sent Nico into hysterics the night before. But now, he was on an adventure, and nothing could deter.

"Slow down," Bianca cried, the English thick on her tongue. Their mamma told them not to speak Italian outside their hotel room, even if it meant speaking in incomprehensible and broken tongues. 

"Come!" cried Nico. He jogged down the paved sidewalk until he heard a soft buzz by his ear. He stopped, and held his hand up for Bianca to follow suit.

He twisted open the jar. "Gonna catch that bug." He whispered softly.

Bianca's nose scrunched. "Why?"

Nico shrugged, handing Bianca the lid of the jar so he could step forward and hold it out, standing as still as he could.

The little bug landed in the jar, surprisingly, and Nico pulled it to his chest, covering it with his hands. He grinned at Bianca, and she stepped forward, bending over to look inside the clear glass. "It's a libellula," she whispered. ( Dragonfly )

"English?" Asked Nico, lifting the jar to his eye level. The little libellula 's kaleidoscope eyes peered into his own, showing thousands of little Nico's in its reflection. 

"I do not know," Bianca admitted, "We will ask mamma later."

Nico grinned, moving his hand so the bug could fly away. "Bye!" He grinned. He swore it winked back at him.

The Lotus Hotel and Casino was something out of a fairytale. Tables upon tables of card games that were expanded upon by the day, and TVs that seemed to grow more vibrant with colors and clarity as they slept. 

As much as he loved the card games; and he did, he spent at least four hours at the Mythomagic table daily, he also found himself gravitating towards the indoor skating rink. Italy had been far too warm for ice skating, and he hadn't been in D.C. long enough for the weather to turn cold, so the new hobby was something he picked up with vigor. 

He had trouble lacing up his skates, but he managed to get it, wobbling over to a rink that looked like a frozen stream. 

He was quickly stopped by a worker. "Sorry, kid," the worker was holding a pair of skates and his teeth were unnaturally sharp. "That rinks 12 and up. You have to use that one until you're older." He pointed a thin finger to a rink shaped like a figure eight. 

Nico groaned, the words 'when you're older' cutting through him like a knife. Time didn't move fast enough, he wanted to be older now.

He made his way to the figure eight rink, dreaming of being old enough to skate with the big kids.

Sometimes Nico marveled at how much he changed from 10, when he left the Lotus Hotel and Casino, to the sixteen year old he had become. He saw a picture of himself at Westover Hall and barely recognized the bright grin.

He had a grin now—when his boyfriend told him a stupid joke or attacked him with a flurry of kisses across the bridge of his nose—but it wasn't the same. His grin held the haunted look of the past that can never truly be erased.

Things were getting better. As good as they can be when one survived Tartarus twice and countless other dangerous feats. He even managed to pass his learner's permit test a few weeks after he turned 16—the youngest you could be in New York—after having received fake identification papers from his father for his birthday.

Will already had his license. He had gone back to Texas the year before to learn, getting a permit at 15 and a license at 16. Despite having his license for such a short amount of time, he had taken it upon himself to teach Nico, despite the law specifically saying Nico needed someone above 21 in shotgun. 

Will Solace, though a goody-two-shoe in many ways, could've cared less about that law.

Neither could Chiron, it seemed, as he willingly lent the two the camp van for a date off camp where Nico was expected to drive.

"That's not a left turn, darling," Will said as Nico made a right turn as they attempted to return to camp. "I said left."

"I'm sorry I'm dyslexic," said Nico. "That looked right to me."

Will chuckled. "Was that a pun, Death Boy?"

"Wasn't supposed to be."

Nico made a U turn, and they went off in the proper direction, laughing and joking all the way back to camp. 

It was a miracle they weren't pulled over, but Nico wasn't going to question Tyche. She was barely nice to him, he wasn't about to jinx it.

"You know," Will said after they returned to camp and plopped themselves on Nico's bed, a few Cocoa Puffs scattered across the room. "Today made me feel like a teenager."

"You're sixteen," Nico pointed out. "You are a teenager."

"But I also was an on scene war medic at the age of eleven," Will countered. "How many teens can say that?"

"Not many," Nico said. He wrapped his arms around Will. "In demigod years we're ancient."

"In normal years you're ancient."

Nico flicked him. "Shut it, you."

Will's laugh was like a melody. "I'm just saying." Will lifted Nico so he was fully on his stomach, the son of Hades' head in the crook of his neck and their legs intertwined. "We don't act like teenagers enough."

Nico propped himself up to look in Will's eyes, "What do teenagers do?"

Will raised an eyebrow. "Probably make out."

Rolling his eyes, Nico replied, "Subtlety is not your strong suit, tesoro." ( darling )

"Time's a-ticking, Neeks," Will scolded, "Let's be teens."

With another eye roll, Nico lowered himself to press his lips against Will's.

The night before Will's twenty-first birthday, he called an emergency house meeting that consisted of just the two of them. 

Nico, however, decided to just humor his boyfriend, and sat on the couch of their apartment in New Rome where they were attending college: Will entering his Senior year and Nico his Junior year respectively. 

"As we all know," Will began, pacing in front of the couch. "I turn 21 tomorrow."

Nico nodded along, and bit back a sarcastic remark.

"And, so I've been thinking."

"Surprising." Nico couldn't hold back the remark that time.

"Yes, yes, I know," Will said. "Anyways, I've been thinking about life and growing old and all that jazz."

"What about it?" Nico asked.

"Our childhood dreams have either vanished or come true, haven't they?"

Will was right; all of Nico's dreams had already happened. Get a boyfriend (though that was a nightmare at times), go to college, have a place to live, get a stable income (from doing tasks for his father when not in class), meet the people and monsters in Mythomagic (he regretted that one the second it happened, though. Ares was, in fact, not very pretty in person). And his more falsified dreams had faded with age, like to become a pirate. "Yeah."

"I say we make a new dream list," Will smiled brightly, "For our time as adults. A bucket list, per se, but realistic."

"That's not a bad idea," Nico said, "Are we telling each other?"

"Do you have a secret you want to keep from me?" Will asked, stopping his pacing to raise an eyebrow. "An elaborate proposal, perhaps?"

Nico's face darkened. "No I—I just."

"I'm joking, Death Boy." Will sat next to Nico, his grin blinding. "But, just so you know, marrying you is on my list."

Nico looked down at his hands, fiddling with his thumbs. "I guess that's on my list too."

Will bumped him with his elbow. "You guess? Death Boy, I'm wounded."

"Getting a little old for Death Boy, aren't we?"

"Never," said Will, "I'll be calling you Death Boy in our 50th Anniversary speeches."

"Is that even a thing?"

"We'll make it one."

Nico finally looked up and met Will's eyes. "I guess that won't be a deal breaker."

"You guess?"

Nico cut off his cries of betrayal by pressing his lips against Will's.

Their lists would have to wait.

A few Dippin' Dots fell off Nico's spoon like snow as he attempted to eat them while walking the trails of the Bronx Zoo. The rest of his family wasn't fairing much better—his husband had more sugar from his churro caked in his shirt than he had eaten. One of his daughters, Bianca, was in a similar state, the eight-year-old's shirt brown with sugar. Naomi, unsurprisingly given her vivacious personality and inability to focus on one task at a time (which was totally not from Nico) had completely given up on her own Dippin' Dots handing it over to Nico so she could run ahead and look at what animals were to come. The only one with some remnants of etiquette was Maria, though that was just because she declined a snack in order to buy a stuffed ring-tailed lemur that Naomi insisted she name King Julian. 

"Slow down, Mimi," called Nico out to Naomi, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the spoon hitting his cheek. 

She skidded to a stop, turning around with a slight bounce in her stop. "Then go faster, Papà." She turned back around and bound off.

"She's got a point, Death Boy," Will laughed, crumbling the paper his churro had come in. He raced off in the same direction.

Nico glanced at his other two children, a fond look on his face. "If anyone asks, I've never met that man in my life."

"Really?" asked Maria.

"He looks a little crazy to me."

Bianca tossed away her wrapper, clapping her hands to rid them of some excess sugar. "We should catch up."

Nico took one last bite of his Dippin' Dots before tossing it. "Ready when you two are."

Bianca ran off without another word, slithering between families and strollers while occasionally muttering apologies under her breath. 

On the other hand, Maria stayed still for a moment, clutching King Julian like he was her life-line. Nico wordlessly held out his hand and she grabbed it, adjusting the lemur in the crook of her elbow, so the two could run the hills of the Bronx Zoo.

They found the three by a carousel, little bugs spinning instead of horses. Bianca watched them, her eyes moving in time with the bugs as they moved up and down. "What's that?" She asked.

"That's a carousel," Nico said. "Una giostra." The Italian word felt familiar in his mouth, though he was unsure why. 

"Can we go on it?" Naomi asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Please?"

Nico glanced at Will, who, true to his character, gave a bright grin. "I'm down for a ride on the carousel." 

A sense of deja-vu hit Nico as he followed his energetic children to the carousel— a long-lost memory of a little carousel along the Venice pier with a found 200 lira coin— and Nico stopped in his tracks, allowing the memory to seep into his brain.

Bianca noticed, turning around from where Will was attempting to name all the bugs as they passed to triplets. Naomi and Maria were adding names of some they knew.

"Papà, are you alright?"

Nico grinned, shaking the memory into place. "I'm perfect, piccolina," he said. "The gate's opening, let's go." (little one)

And he allowed Bianca to guide him to a bug by the hand.

And go round and round and round, in the circle game.