Seek {Superhero AU} - Ending 1

37: A Little Bit Of Time

"Hey, Hazel," I greet.

"Hi, Will," she says, not looking up from the math. "Nico's in bed still. I don't think he's left yet today."

I check the time on my phone. It's already almost 4. If Nico's been in bed all day, he didn't eat breakfast or lunch. I purse my lips. Hades should be making sure his son eats. I should talk to him about the role a parent plays in their child's health. I kind of get the feeling he doesn't understand it.

I find Nico's bedroom at the end of the hall, and I knock on the closed door.

"Come in," comes Nico's soft voice.

I push the door open to find Nico curled up on the bed. I can't see his face; his back is facing the door, and he doesn't turn when I step into the room.

"Hi, Niccolò," I say.

"Hi, Will," he responds.

I swallow. I almost ask if he's eaten anything, hoping that maybe he did get up and Hazel just didn't notice. But that's just a hopeful fantasy—Hazel pays as much attention to whether or not Nico is okay as I do; if he had shown any sign of getting better, she would have said something.

"Can I join you?" I ask instead, and he hums his approval. The mattress sinks a little as I sit next to him, and I scoot over, sitting criss-cross-applesauce, until my thigh touches the cloth of the t-shirt on his back. My left hand pushes some stray hair out of his face.

Deep bags rest under his eyes. He hasn't showered in a couple of days—he hasn't really had the energy to get out of bed at all, as far as I can tell. The hard thing about this is that I desperately want him to feel better, but I also don't want him to feel like he can't be sad.

"It's bad today?" I ask, quiet. I'm afraid I might say the wrong thing and make it all worse.

At the question, he sits up. He's pale, and I've never seen someone look so exhausted. I wish Hades was a more experienced parent—this kind of grief might be more than I know how to help with. I've talked to him about therapy, but when he can't muster the energy to get to the kitchen, I'm afraid that convincing him to add more to his list of things to do might do more harm than good. I don't know what I'm doing—I feel way out of my depth.

He turns until we're facing each other, and there are already tears welling up in his eyes. He tries to wipe them away.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.

His shoulders shudder a little. He shrugs, and then he shifts closer to me and leans forward until his head rests on my shoulder. One of his hands holds onto the back of my neck, and the other trails down my arm until he finds my hand; he interlocks our fingers, and I squeeze his hand.

"I don't... I don't know how many times I can keep trying to piece myself together like this," Nico tells me. "I can't—" His voice breaks, so he snaps his mouth shut. I watch as his chest rises and falls once, twice, three times before he tries again: "I can't keep doing this, Will. You can only hit rock-bottom so many times before you quit trying to climb back up again."

My chest constricts at that. I use my free hand to run up and down his back, and he shivers any time my gentle touch grazes one of the notches of his spine.

"You shouldn't have to," I murmur. "The world hasn't been fair to you. You deserve so much better than what you've gotten, and if I could make everything right again for you, I would. I would...I would do anything."

That's the moment when I realize why Nico was always so determined to jump immediately into dangerous situations when he believed it might help Hazel. It's the moment I understand what motivated my mother to start working for Hermes, and why she turned to a life of crime under the notion that it might provide a better life for me. It's the moment I understand why Ms. di Angelo aimed that gun at a cop, knowing it would be dangerous.