The Angel of Death

Chapter Twenty-Six

just to be clear, when nico speaks in italics like this, it means he's speaking italian. 

Chapter Twenty-Six

I blinked my eyes open, grunting as I became aware of a throbbing headache. And injuries. Lovely. Most of the pain was centred in my shoulder, but my chest and thigh ached too. Did I get in a training accident? No, I wasn't at camp anymore. Had I been kidnapped again? Because the last time fucking sucked.

"Nico? Are you waking up?"

"Shhhhhhh. I'm still gonna be sleeping. Don't..." I trailed off for a moment. "Don't talk to me, I'm sleeping."  Words were hard. Thinking was hard. Moving was hard. Sleeping was easy. I should go back to sleep. Whoever had spoken, I recognised their voice and it didn't bring any sort of feeling of danger. Instead, it made me feel even more relaxed, which was odd.

"Nico, I don't speak Italian. Can you use English?" Fingers slid along the arm I'd flung over my face somehow, prying the limb away and I made a sound somewhere between a growl and a whine.

"I am speaking with English."

"That's not English, bud. I know you're tired but I gotta know you're okay and then we can get you to bed, alright?"

I cracked my eyes open to a dimly lit room. It seemed spacious, but it was hard to focus. Dick was there, I could see that. He was looking down at me with an expression caught between amusement and concern. He smiled when he saw my eyes open.

"And then I can go back to sleep?" I asked. The words didn't come out very clear, but I was pretty proud of them being English this time.

Dick laughed. "Yes, and then you can go back to sleep. If you think you can make it all the way to your room."

I debated for a moment, but even getting out of whatever bed I was in now seemed like too monumental a task. I once transported a monument across the world. It was hard. It made me tired, like now. Maybe I had to do it again? But then where was the monument?

"Nico? Are you still with me, buddy?"

I grunted. "What happened?"

Dick helped me sit up, admittedly doing most of the work. "You ran off after your fight with Jason. I don't know what it was about, he wouldn't say. All I know is that Bruce went out looking for you, and you came back with some pretty bad injuries. It was like you'd been attacked by a pack of wolves or something. Bruce won't say what happened, either, but you've been asleep for a few hours now." Dick helped me slide out of the bed, standing me on legs that felt like toothpicks. I leaned into him, blinking around a room that reminded me of the infirmary at camp Half Blood.

"Oh," I hummed as Dick seemed to realise there was no way in Hades I was going to be able to walk, and he manoeuvred me until he could carry me piggy-back style with his hands under my knees and my limp arms around his shoulders. He hoisted me up like I weighed nothing and carried me out of the room and I let my eyes drift close again.

"Nico?" I hummed again. "You have to stay awake, at least until we reach your room. I'll help you get changed into clean clothes, but I don't want to do all the work!" His tone was joking, and something told me that if I did pass out again, Dick wouldn't care. My comfort would still be the most important thing to him.

"I'm awake. You're sleeping." I mumbled. I felt Dick's back rumble as he laughed. One of his hands shifted away from my leg, and I blinked, realising we were in an elevator now. I squeezed my eyes closed, pushing my head against Dick's shoulder. Despite me being much more powerful than him, he made me feel safe. "Don't like elevators," I mumbled.

"Hmm? Why, what's wrong? Are you going to be sick?" Dick's concern was nice.

"No. Just don't like small places, suffocating."

"Does it feel suffocating?" Dick asked, guessing from the little context I provided.

"No, it is. Small places suffocate people. Like jars." A visceral shudder worked its way down my spine and I pushed the memories away. "Don't like jars either. Can't breathe in them." If I was any more awake I likely would be in the midst of a panic attack right now. Thank the Gods blood loss makes people deliriously tired.

"...Jars? What do you mean? What happened with jars?"

"Suffocating." A light 'ding' announced our arrival at the manor and when the doors slid open, Dick was quick to exit, which I appreciated very much. Bruce must've been in his office when we came out of the elevator because I could hear him and Dick exchanging words with each other.

"How is he?"

"He's a fast healer. He's mostly awake now, but I don't think he's all here yet. He switches between Italian and English sometimes, and he's been saying some weird stuff. I was just taking him to his room."

"Have you slept yet?"

"...No."

"Here, I'll take him then. It's been a long night for all of us. Try and get some rest." I was transferred to someone else's arms. I still didn't feel any danger, so I let myself remain relaxed (not like I had the energy to be anything but a limp spaghetti noodle right now anyways). "Nico, do you think you can give me a hand?" It was Bruce speaking and when I peeling my eyes open again, we were in my room. I grunted, and squirmed in his arms. He set me down on the bed, which was good because I still didn't trust my legs. Even sitting was hard.

Bruce helped me change out of my bloody shirt into a fresh one and turned away after handing me a pair of loose sweatpants that used to be Jason's which I somehow managed to get my uncooperative limbs into. Then he helped me lay back in the bed without tugging on any of the stitches in my shoulder.

I knew I had ambrosia in my bag, which was sitting on the floor by the desk. I made grabby hands at it and Bruce laughed before bringing it within my reach. I turned on my side as much as I could, rummaging around to pull out the ziploc bag of the stuff. I fumbled for a moment before Bruce took pity and opened it for me. I tossed a square into my mouth, sighing as I eased back down. I should be mostly healed by morning. I just needed sleep. Yes, sleep was good.

Bruce set my bag down at the foot of the bed. "All that trouble for a snack?" His voice was teasing, but there was genuine curiosity behind it, and something else, something deeper that I didn't have the mental faculties to puzzle out currently. So I just gave a noncommittal hum and closed my eyes again.

I could hear Bruce sigh, and a moment later, felt his hand brush over my head, tucking a loose piece of hair away from my eyes. "Oh, Nico." He muttered. I had never witnessed him be so...soft. He must've thought I was asleep already. After a moment of him sitting on the edge of my bed, he stood and left, leaving the door open- likely to check on me throughout the night or day or whenever it was now. And with the knowledge that I was safe in the hands of the Waynes, I finally let myself sink back into the darkness of sleep.

And straight into another nightmare-ous dream. 

some hard-earned fluff before things take a darker turn! Whos excited!