『〔Solangelo One Shots〕』

Numbers

So as the prompt says, you're born with a number. No one knows what it means.

Nico finds out it's how many people come to everyone's funeral.

(Also we're gonna act like Nico was there when Bianca... yk?)

Kinda angst in the beginning.
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It was Mom's funeral. I'm young and stupid, but even I know that I'm not gonna get her back. I wasn't crying. I couldn't. I had to be strong. "Mamas strong boy", as she called me.

Her face was pale and lifeless. You could easily tell it wasn't her. Her cheeks weren't covered in blush, which she tried to convince us was her real blush, but we always knew it was makeup. Her face wasn't emote. And most of all, she was gone. She looked completely gone. They say when people died, they're peaceful, but she just looks so different. Makeup covered and caked her face, but not in the way she usually had it, which was barely any- minus the blush. It didn't even match her skin tone. I can't say she looked dead because she was. I'd be stating the obvious.

I look away from the open casket, and back to my hands. My thumb rubbed over the number on my wrist. "85" was dark, like a tattoo, looking bold and clear.

The priest was finished with his parting speech and it was time for family to go up and say their goodbyes. Family. Bianca and I. That's it. Dad was pretty much gone, mom is dead, obviously. Just me and Bianca against the world. Cliché, huh?

Bianca motioned me to go first. I could tell she's making me do it because she's too upset. I walk over to it. I'm too short to see her. The priest brings over a small step stool for me and I walk up. I grab her hand. I don't even know if I'm allowed to do that, but I do it anyway. I stroke her cold arm. I flip it over to see the number I've known for my whole life. "12". I look around the room. There's 12 people. Now I'm confused. There's me, Bianca, and 10 of mom's closest friends. They came because they paid for this. I look back at my mother. My heart starts to race. My breathing gets weird, am I dying too? And then I sobbed. Uncontrollably. What's happening? Is this what it meant? The number didn't mean something as stupid as popularity but people who will come to our funerals? Would the number be higher if Grandpa and Grandma came? Would it be higher if dad, whoever he is, showed up? What if she didn't even have us, would the number be lower?

The priest walks up to me and ushers me to let Bianca have a turn, but I can't seem to let go. I scream and cry for him to stopping pulling at me, yelling at mom to somehow, magically, come back to life and hug me. I want her warm hugs, her laughter to fill my ears. I miss her. I yell and fight back, punching the priest with my weak, thin arms. Begging. Oh. That's what I'm doing. I'm begging him to let me down so I can be with my mom again. I look at my mom's friends to help me, but they're just... pitying me. I look at Bianca and she's crying too.

Why happens if I'm going to be alone too?
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It happened again. Bianca. She left me too. I'm stuck in this cycle where everything just... leaves. She's in the rumble. I scream and cry, the huntresses and my friends just watch me. Pitying me. Again and again and again and again. Stop pitying me. Stop staring at me like that and HELP. HELP ME GET HER OUT. AT LEAST LET ME GIVE HER A FUNERAL. A WAY TO HONOR HER, HELP ME.

"HELP ME, STOP STANDING THERE AND HELP," I scream at them. I look at Percy for help, but he just... stares. In shock? In pity? I don't know anymore.

I remember Bianca's number, "26". After mom's death I memorized her number. Wary that when we'll be with 26 people, I'd get her away from the situation. But I was careless. What can I say? A 10 year old boy can't stop the Fates from cutting their strings. I looked back and counted the people. 26. Ohhhh isn't this rich??? How wonderful, really.