Death's Son (Even After Death)

Chapter 2

At nineteen years old, Will still worked the Infirmary while studying for college. It helped him learn more hands-on and kept his mind where it needed to be, especially since Nico's...death, disappearance, whatever they called it. Whatever it was, nobody was waiting for Nico to come back.

He was gone, gone and had taken Will's heart with him. Most days, Will prayed to all the gods that Nico was somewhere better. Other days, he prayed that he was dead. That way, he'd at least know. His love was missing, missing and dead, somewhere far away.

It haunted him. Haunted just like the ghosts Nico could command.

"Will!" Percy Jackson ran into the Infirmary, his skin less tan than it used to be. The other campers joked that he was in retirement, but he was in turn just done with all the deaths that had been thrown at him. He was usually at his apartment with Annabeth or at his new job, but he stopped into camp every now and again to check up on everything. They had had some pretty rough times. "We've got a patient coming in. They're getting him out, now. I was told to prepare you."

Will looked up from counting the supplies, having been bored out of his mind all day. With Almaji at school and the campers playing it safe, he had nothing to do all day but wait until Almaji got home.

"Who? Where are they getting him out of?" Will started to get supplies together, bringing them to a cot. "Injuries?"

"They're...they're getting him out of...plants..." Percy laughed awkwardly. "I don't know how to explain it, honestly. And for who it is..."

"Well...?" Will looked up at him. "What?"

"It's Nico. Nico di Angelo."

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Nico looked down at himself, looked down at the pale skin that was raw from the leaves. He wore black dress pants that were clean despite the piles of dirt, and a white button-down that was tinted a light green. His hands, pale as ever, revealed the green veins that pulsated beneath his skin. He looked...different, just as Annabeth said. He looked different than the son of Hades he knew himself to be.

"The plants ate you alive." Davy, son of Demeter, joked. "The chlorophyll seeped right into you."

"Perfect," Nico muttered. "Absolutely perfect."

"Davy, not helping." Annabeth hissed. She kneeled beside Nico, her hand moving to his forehead. "You don't have a fever, that's good."

"Please don't touch me." Nico pulled away. "I don't like to be touched."

"We'll get you to Will." Annabeth sighed. "Can you stand up?"

Nico looked up at her, looked at the girl that seemed to have aged years since he saw her last. With a quick nod, he rose to his feet in a manner that suggested just how long he had been dead. He stood tall but didn't stand straight or steady.

"That's it." Annabeth held her hands out, ready to catch him if needed. "Need help or can you walk?"

"I can walk on my own, Annabeth." Nico hissed. "You act like I've been laying there for years."

Annabeth looked at him for a minute in silence before looking to Davy, the only other one beside them. "Can you go tell Chiron what's going on? I'll get Nico to the infirmary."

Davy looked between her and Nico suspiciously before doing as he was told, leaving them alone in the darkness of the woods. Nico watched Annabeth with an amused expression, curious about what was happening but enjoying the confusion he laid out for others.

"Nico," Annabeth looked to him, her gray eyes calculating. "It's been...it's been four years since you died. Four years. Where have you been? You couldn't have...you couldn't have been laying here the whole time... Right? I mean...you saved me and Percy from Tartarus, you helped us win the war. I trust you. But...you seem oddly calm about all of this." She paused, took a deep breath. "We thought you were dead. Were you? Or were you playing with us?"

Nico was quiet, his thoughts running wild. Four years? He had been dead for four years...it only felt like days at most. He tried calling out for Anubis, tried thinking back to all that he had gone through. Anubis said it was Almaji that may bring him back. Then why had it taken so long?

Anubis? Nico called hopefully. Nothing stirred, nothing happened. He was as alone in his mind as he was the day he was born.

"Four years?" Nico finally asked, looking up to meet Annabeth's eyes. "It's really been four years?"

She nodded. "We need to get you checked. Then...you really need to explain, Nico."

He looked down at his weird clothes, at his weird veins. "I'll try."