#ahaha i don't remember if nico remembers he's italian at this point??

[stygicniron]

Nico frowned at the pile of dirty clothes across the room. Better look at that than try to meet Percy's expression. He wasn't fully sure what he would do if he met Percy's searing gaze, what confession might tumble out, or broiling emotions might declare themselves first. Frankly, Nico would rather that none of them escaped at the moment, considering how muddled and confused everything was, but he knew already that he'd said the wrong thing.

Percy was suspicious, and even if Nico wasn't looking at his face, he saw the way his weight shifted to expect a question to follow. Maybe he would just turn around and leave if Percy tried to probe.

Only he didn't and Nico couldn't help the wave of relief rolling over him as Percy tried to give some kind of reassurance, weak as it was. Well, if Percy was avoiding responsibility recently, at least he was avoiding this too. Nico swallowed back bile. "I've got a plan," he answered simply, although he couldn't tell if he sounded reassuring or not.

Nodding a little at Percy's words, he jammed his hands further into his pocket. "Spaghetti sounds good," he said a moment later, remembering his manners. Gods above and below, this was too much. Hades refused to say anything more about his sister unless Nico got Percy down to the Underworld, and getting Percy down to the Underworld seemed to be the best plan that they had so far when it came to defeating Luke.

But the anger still seared at his core, eyes watching Percy as the guy left the room, although the anger wasn't necessarily directed at Percy any longer, that didn't mean it was gone for good. It wasn't just anger, though, as something like guilt niggled in the back of his mind, a worry that maybe, maybe Hades had some other plan for wanting to talk to Percy.

And beyond that, deeper than that. Something even more bitter ached around Nico's heart, a keening whining every time he looked at Percy, and he forced himself to look away from the door, pacing around Percy's room to find something else to do. It was impossible, it didn't matter. Just like bringing Bianca back was impossible.

Percy found Nico poking at a model boat Percy had presumably built at some point, although it could have been a gift, Nico didn't know. Pointer finger idly flicked at the propeller on the ship, watching it spin before coming to a stop, repeating the action again.

Percy had to bite his tongue before he answered with an agitated, Yes, thank you. I’m supremely and painfully aware of the world ending and my part in aiding or stopping it. So cool of you to keep nagging me. Really, he deserved some sort of reward for keeping it behind his teeth, for managing to swallow the bitterness before it burst forth unrestrained as the sea: he was getting partially better at that. Maybe it helped that he knew Nico was right. (Frustratingly so.) Maybe it helped that he knew Nico wasn’t who he was really mad at—that a ruling part of himself cheekily noted He’s only trying to lend a hand. Because maybe the son of Hades felt a little guilty himself… for the way things had been sour between them.

And maybe Percy was secretly grateful that the pestering came from a good place. Endlessly annoying as it was.

He could’ve sworn—for the briefest moment—Nico was actually sort of smiling. Well, it was more like a grimace, but Percy didn't figure Nico really knew how to smile nowadays— Not in the way he used to, and surely that smile Percy remembered on the carefree ten-year-old would never return, but it was… progress. He hoped.

Remember what Percy had said earlier about misplaced optimism? Yeah, hold on to that thought. Tight. We’re gonna keep this theme going.

Because if Percy was going to keep his anger in check, then naturally someone else had to take up the mantle. With only two people here in his room, guess who that had to be. The abrupt shift to Nico’s spat words did enough to make Percy flinch all on its own. What came after… Well, he wasn’t sure what word could be used to describe it, but the vortex of feelings contained, at the very least, confusion, frustration, shame, concern— Basically all really great things to be feeling. Y’know. Typical Tuesday.

One thing was very clear in that mess, though. One sentiment created from the murky waters roiling within: What are you hiding from me?

“Uh… No. It’s— You’re good, dude. No worries.” He shifted his weight between his feet. “I’m glad you’ve… got it under control, apparently.” But Percy didn’t figure that was the whole of it. Not by a long shot. He just made a mental note not to press him in the future. (Too bad it was going to drive him insane wondering what was actually going on. C’mon, man. I need to be worrying about this too?) 

Deep breaths were good. Percy also released a steadying sigh of his own. “Great,” he lied, clapping his hands as if to settle the very unsettled matter. “So, yeah. Are you cool with spaghetti?” There was a joke somewhere in here. “I’ll nab some and then we can… talk, or whatever. Be right back.”