Inheritance - a sequel to Shelter

Regrets Collect Like Old Friends - Nico

Nico and Will dress in the early light of morning, the quiet of sleep still heavy in the room, though with sound of his racing heart loud in his own ears, Nico thrums with nervous anticipation. He fastens his chain belt around his waist, checking that his sword is safely fixed in its Stygian iron ring form, and then strides to the door. It creaks as he pushes it open, and he looks out at the dew-bright grass of the greens ringed by the camp cabins. The sun has only started to rise, and shadows cast by the forest and camp structures stretch across the grounds like dark fingers in a nightmare.

He reaches out with his senses, trying to connect, to access the security of the darkness that had once sheltered him. It's beyond frustrating to come up short, to feel so suddenly weak. Disappointment in himself, anger, rises inside his body from his very bones. He should never have allowed himself to rely on his powers so much. He wonders if this is how an addict feels going without their their sustaining vice: off-balance, like being blinded in only one eye and facing a task requiring two.

At the sound of rustling behind him, he looks over his shoulder at Will. The angry emotions abate somewhat as Nico watches him patting down his pockets, then searching under Nico's pillows, and looking lost and confused.

"What'd you lose?" Nico asks, his back to the open door. He flattens his palms against the wood, using what he can touch to steady himself, to keep him from freaking out. The idea of petitioning for a quest to go to Hades without his Underworld magic makes his skin crawl, his instincts screaming at him to hide.

"My doctor's bag." Will says, his voice infusing Nico with a sense of calm; Will is familiar; With him, Nico is safe. "We had it last night."

Nico's lips twitch at the memory; a pleasant tingle chases the anxiety out of his nerves.

"Foot of the bed," he says, smirking at the sigh of relief Will gives when he finds it.

Will glances up at him, the faraway look still in full force, like he's having trouble focusing. Nico tries not to notice. He doesn't want to think about Will losing his grip on reality when Nico's confidence in himself is already stretched thin.

"Thanks," Will says, and presses a soft kiss to Nico's cheek as he passes, Nico holding the door open for him.

Nico follows Will past the Big House and the volleyball court, not sure where they are headed.

"Doesn't your dad stay in the Big House?" he asks as they reach Half-Blood Hill and start to climb.

"Sometimes," Will says. He glances sideways at Nico, his forehead creased. "Oh right." He faces forward again and keeps climbing, Nico at his side. "I forgot about the ... memory lapse ..."

Nico wants to interrupt, to correct him. It isn't my memory that has lapsed. I'm one of the only people who has noticed time skipping ahead two years. He holds his tongue and continues to climb while Will finishes explaining.

"Since Rachel is off at college out west, he mostly stays in her cave. Says it's more comfortable, more 'his style' than the Big House. That, and he was offended to have to share a room with Dionysus, even if they weren't in it at the same time."

Absently, Nico wonders how Rachel feels about Apollo taking over her cave. He probably didn't think it was necessary to tell her. Still, as far as Olympian gods go, Nico appreciates the few conversations they have had. It wasn't until Apollo explained that Nico wasn't a mistake, that he was finally able to accept himself and let go of the fear that had been with him since the 1930s.

As they approach the cave entrance, Nico ponders his interactions with Apollo from yesterday, a quiet unease settling inside his gut. His reluctance to talk about the time skip, the way he shut down Aphrodite's attempt to provoke him into action. How much has Apollo's power been reduced? How much of it was actually Zeus's punishment and how much might be Apollo's own fear?

"Dad?" Will calls, and Nico stops not quite short enough, bumping into Will's butt and almost knocking him down.

Will grins as he steadies himself, his hands on Nico's waist, amusement in his eyes. It makes Nico's cheeks burn, the way Will looks at him, before turning back to the cave entrance and calling out again. Nico wonders if he's becoming as dependant on Will as he was on his own powers. He seriously hopes not and tries not to think about how it would feel if Will was ripped from his life like his powers were.

Will takes Nico's hand, and then pushes the curtain to the side and pulls Nico inside after him. They step into a roomy cavern, about the size of the Arts and Crafts cabin, lit up with a rosy glow that makes the place feel warm and cozy.

Nico gets the sense that he's been inside the cave before, that it used to smell like oil paint and incense, but looking around it now – the leather furniture, the stereo equipment, and enormous flat screen television, the gaming systems, and to the left, about a half dozen electric guitars, a drum set, a shelving unit stuffed with musical instruments, half of which Nico can't even name – it seems Apollo has made himself at home. There are still glimpses of Rachel's style: a truly unusual table lamp, a lopsided cuckoo clock and a few canvases stacked against the back wall, but they are overshadowed with what appear to be genuine antique treasures: masks, statuettes of various gods and nymphs in addition to the modern equipment.

Apollo sits on the couch, his back facing them, and they seem to be interrupting a discussion he's having with Pythia, bound to Will's old staff. Most of the light in the room seems to be coming from him.

"I understand that, but it doesn't make it any more pleasant to bear," he says to the snake, then turns. He raises his hand and gestures for them to sit beside him on the couch.

"You have borne many curses in your time and still you are able to smile," Pythia hisses. She darts her tongue at his nose almost playfully and as Nico takes a seat beside Will on the couch, Apollo does offer a small smile.

"What brings you two in here so early?" Apollo asks, his smile growing, though not meeting his eyes. "Breakfast won't even be served for another three hours."

The smile feels forced, and sends Nico's mind back to how frustrating it had been to get a straight word out of Apollo the last time they had gone to him to petition a quest. Nico has to tamp down his urge to call him out. Without his powers, his ability to retreat quickly, it would be stupid to talk back to a god.

Will doesn't have the same restraint, but he does have experience in coaxing reluctant people to open up.

"You almost vaporized us yesterday," Will says, not hiding his annoyance. "I understand that you are stressed out, but can you drop the casual act?" After a short pause, he adds: "Please?"

Apollo's smile slips, his eyebrows furrowing, but Pythia speaks up before he has a chance to answer. "Your father has gained and lost a lot this past night, Will. He foresees more of the same in the coming days."

Will breathes out loudly, and Nico can almost hear him mentally screaming. It's not like life has been super easy for them either. He lowers his voice, and amazingly sounds both patient and calm.

"Look, let's just talk it out. We'll feel better, all of us. What do you say?"

The way Will and Apollo meet each other's eyes, sitting side by side in reverse style of each other, reminds Nico of the time his mother had taken him to a theatre performance, and two actors were playing as if they were a single person and his reflection. He shakes himself, both wanting to push the ancient memory aside so he can focus, and wanting to hold onto it, to treasure remembering the time when his mother was alive.

Apollo's forehead softens, his lips turning down. He glances at Pythia as she nods at him before turning to face Will again. "Okay." The concession seems to drain him of his anger, even muting his godly power. The brightness that radiates from him pretty much always seems to dim as well, until they're just three guys and a snake gearing up to talk about their problems.

The air around them feels surreal, Nico thinks, almost like a dream. Will squeezes his knee, his eyes still on Apollo, waiting.

"Okay. We can talk. I cannot promise to answer all of your questions, but I will do my best ... to listen, to understand."

Will reaches for the staff with Pythia wrapped around it, and Apollo passes it to him, an expression of sadness flashing so fast across his eyes, Nico almost wonders if he imagined it.

"Nico and I have had a lot of losses the past few days too, Dad. I learned that my boyfriend doesn't recall most of the last two years we've been together. I couldn't save my best friend and I still don't understand what has happened to her. I feel like I'm moving forward in life and the future is right within my reach, but everything I love is still in the past and if I'm not careful, I'll lose my hold on it."

Will hands the staff to Nico as he falls silent. The truth of the losses he'd just described hanging over them all, not pushed away or addressed, just there where they can all see them.

Nico grips the staff tightly. He knows it's his turn to speak, to put his own fears out for the group to share, like the camp bonding exercises he normally avoids like the plague. Only the person holding the stick can speak.

"Well," Pythia hums. If she had eyebrows, she'd be raising them. "What do you have to share, child of Hades?"

The epithet grates on Nico's nerves, reminding him of a whole other string of losses, like her words just opened a can of worms. He clears his throat and focuses on the snake, trying to pretend the others aren't there. It's the only way he knows how to get his words out. It's easier to talk to ghosts, or those who he's not afraid of judging him. Sharing with the people he cares about is still hard.

"I – I don't like to talk about this stuff. It's like, it takes up all of my thoughts already and the rest of the time, when I'm with other people ..." He takes a deep breath. As he breathes out, the thoughts seem to unwind, becoming easier to access. Not what he expected. "Lately, when I'm with Will or the others ... I finally have friends. I'm afraid that if I bring up all the dark stuff – my fears, my sadness – I'll scare them away and then I'll lose that too."

Will squeezes his knee again, and then scoots back, readjusting his position on the couch to be more open to Nico. He slips his hand up to Nico's thigh and lets it rest there.

Nico still doesn't look at him, but the comfort feels good. "I'm a child out of time already," he says, the words coming easier the more he talks. "I lost 70 years of my life, more, if you take into account that my dad had my memories of the years before the Lotus Casino wiped. And realizing my mom was gone and how she died ... Anyway, skipping to after the war: I was finally in a place where I had a fresh start, where I was comfortable and didn't feel in the way. I thought I'd have a chance to slowly heal the past, you know? Like work through my lost memories and stuff. But then I woke up the day before yesterday, and it was two years later. It was the Lotus Casino all over again and nobody noticed. I mean, I heard Zephyros talking about it with Mr. D, so I knew I wasn't totally losing my mind, but then my powers got stripped and I realized that Will and I were at different places with our ... relationship. It's all so messed up in my head. I'm trying to catch up and make sense of everything, but the more I learn, the scarier it gets and ... I have to help my father. He's doing something about it. He's the only god I see actually trying to fix things."

Apollo's breath hitches and Nico finally looks away from Pythia. He doesn't care if the truth hurts to hear. Now that he has a chance to say what he thinks and Apollo is listening, he will. Addressing Apollo this time, Nico lays it out.

"Hades has always gotten the shaft. He might not be the nicest god. He has a different nature, but that doesn't mean it's bad or any worse than the rest of you Olympians. He got stuck with the Underworld, and has the responsibility to oversee more human souls at a time than any other god. And he rose up to the challenge. He had the Underworld carefully structured and freaking organized. He had safeguards in place to keep the dead from interfering with the world above and he never got recognized for it. Instead, he wasn't even allowed on Olympus except for winter Solstice. But despite all of that, and there was a lot more I'm not even going into right now, he listened to reason. He saw the big picture, and he came to aid Olympus when the Titans attacked. But even after that, he wasn't respected. He wasn't welcome. Zeus and Hera, practically the whole lot of you, let him slink back into the shadows and forgot about him until Hermes and Asclepius needed a place to hide. Hades could've told them to take a hike, but he didn't. He saw the big picture again, and even if Tartarus does rise and brings the pit to the upper world, if Hades wanted out of his job, if he wanted to just walk away, Tartarus would leave him alone. But even after Zeus condemned him along with Hermes, Hades is directing all his forces into slowing Tartarus's progress. He's doing something about it, while you cry about all the horrible things that your father did to you. You use them as an excuse to not do anything. It's frustrating! I can't even tell you how many times I've heard people say, gods, goddesses, ghosts even, that they'd rally to your side if you rose up. But you won't."

Apollo closes his eyes, like a man condemned. Like a sacrifice accepting they're about to have their head cut off. Tears leak from the corners of his eyes, and Nico's heart stutters. He doesn't want Apollo to take his criticism and internalize it, to make whatever is holding him back worse. He wants to spur him into action, to light a fire underneath him.

"Look. I don't mean to make whatever is going on with you worse. I don't want to see you broken. Even when you were dying of that cancer, you helped heal me. All it took was a few words, some kindness. I don't know the details of what Zeus did to you. I can't pretend to understand your pain, but you are a god and you have more power than the rest of us. Even out in the mortal world of today people know your name. They know you. Zeus doesn't have nearly the same support that you do."

Nico looks at Will when he squeezes Nico's thigh, at his small smile, the tilt of his head. Nico hands him the staff.

"He's right," Will says, turning back to Apollo. "The mortals still celebrate you. The Apollo Theatre is famous; the space program that took mortals to the moon was named for you; there's even beaches, hotels, sporting goods, all sorts of companies that promote your name. You've got human numbers to back you up." Apollo meets Will's eyes at last. He looks smaller, more human than usual, but his inner brightness starts up again, haloing him in a gentle glow. "Nico and I can listen, we can offer compassion for whatever is bothering you, but only if you tell us what it is."