Devour

Chapter 2

When Nico woke up, he honestly thought it would be just another day. 

Another terrible day.

Gods, Mx. D was right: Camp Half-Blood wasn't as enjoyable as it was claimed to be. 

The Hermes cabin was loud in the mornings—chaotic and crowded as many demigods woke up and clumsily began their morning routines, all preparing to head to the mess hall for breakfast. It reminded Nico of home in a strange way.

The cabin members lined up by seniority, ranked by how long they had been in the cabin. This left Nico at the end of the line, with a noticeable gap between himself and the others.

Frankly, Nico didn't mind being at the back; he didn’t care much about what the other campers thought of him. But it always led to him arriving at the cabin table last, and he fucking HATED IT.

To be entirely honest, there wasn’t much about the camp Nico enjoyed. He likely could've listed the things he liked about camp on one hand:

1. Capture the Flag

2. His small selection of people he called "friends." 

3. Exploring the forest surrounding the camp (which he technically wasn’t even allowed to do; he just did it anyway.)

4. Mythomagic tournaments—demigods were very familiar with the game, much to Nico’s delight.

5. Sparring, (just not with Luke.)

It was a short list. 

Breakfast was boring, overwhelmed by the chatter of so many people and the wandering souls of woodland folk, demigods, and gods alike. 

Nico would never admit it, but he had trouble controlling his darker impulses. 

Sure, he was taught how, but putting it into practice? Gods, he needed help. 

Nico glanced up from his plate; the rarer steak was still bloody, torn with bite marks and clawed fingers. He didn’t care much about appearing civilized. He had manners, of course; he just didn’t feel inclined to use them. He enjoyed watching the demigods and nature beings squirm at his display.

Everyone seemed to glance away quickly—everyone but Luke. Nico met his eyes for an instant, considering his options.

It would at least be helpful to know how the older demigod managed to seem so normal, perfect, so hidden in plain sight.

If he could, Nico would maul the older boy and be done with him entirely. He would leave the camp and go back home. 

But this was a task from the Slenderman. He couldn't leave; he had to stay. He had to find a place at this godforsaken camp.

And as embarrassing and frustrating as it was, that meant Nico would be forced to ask for help—guidance on blending in among the metaphorical sheep when he was nothing but a rabid wolf.

Nico continued with his day, going through his activities and trying to find a chance to talk to Mx. D, but the god was apparently "busy." 

So, he was left to himself. 

He wondered if he could bother Will, who was currently shadowing the Apollo cabin counselor, Lee, in the infirmary. 

Or Annabeth? She should get out of advanced ancient Greek lessons right now if she wasn't the one teaching this time.

Then, when it turned to lunch, and later almost dinner, Nico Di Angelo's world was flipped into something unfamiliar, something unknown, in the news of a new demigod arriving at camp. 

He came in from the hill, blood and monster's ash covered and carrying an unconscious satyr, dragging him through the border and yelling in panicked sobs for help. 

The satyr, Nico recognized, knew his scent and name and had taken amusement in watching him squirm just like the rest of the cowardly campers and nature folk who didn't seem to have a backbone or personal boundaries. 

Grover Underwood. 

But the boy, black-haired and tan with sea blue eyes that glowed and skin that was coarse as sand, the scent of Seabreeze and salt. He didn't know this boy, nor did the boy know him. 

Soon, this child, barely twelve and clutching a minotaur's horn, rain-soaked and soul flickering with blackened, sour hate, fell to the floor right upon the steps of the big house, where Chiron and Mx.D were playing a game of pinochle. 

Nico wondered who he was and what his name was. But he recognized someone like him, a child of the 3

Big three gods. 

Did this boy know who he was? What he was? 

He needed to find Annabeth. 

Eyes wandering the camp, wild and hurried. He saw blonde hair, and there, by the big house, Annabeth was helping Lee and Will carry the boy and Grover to the infirmary. Silently, Nico followed behind.