The Coming of Nico di Angelo

You'd Think A Sword To the Chest Would Shut a Person Up

CHAPTER SUMMARY

Nico and Annabeth find a horcrux; the Golden Trio searches for answers.

BEGINNING NOTES

Chapter Rating: General Audiences
Content Warning: None
Word Count: 3423

And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.

____________________NICO____________________

Nico was alone in a forest he didn't recognize. It was dark and brooding; thick trunks and long shadows surrounded him, suffocated him. It would be Nico's kind of place if the air weren't so ominous. Somewhere off in the distance, he heard the galloping of a horse, an almost hypnotizing clomp, clomp, clomp. He raced and weaved through the thicket to find the source of the noise. He couldn't run fast enough. Something terrible was about to happen. Frantic whinnying erupted around him, followed by a loud crash. Nico froze. A stark white unicorn laid on the ground a ways ahead, injured and surrounded by its own silvery blood. He ran to it to try and help, but a dark figure got there before him. As he watched in horror, the figure leaned down and drank the blood pouring like a fountain from the unicorn's side. He wanted to scream in protest, as unicorn blood cursed those who drank it, but he couldn't speak. Let alone move.

The scene changed to familiar surroundings. It was a dorm in Westover Hall, where he spent a good portion of the better months of his life. It was a small, narrow room. Each side was identical: a bed in the back corner with the standard white sheet, blue comforter get up, a chest of drawers attached to the bottom of the bed, and a small, wooden desk and chair by the door. The walls were the color of whitewash and bare since Westover Hall didn't allow anything to be hung. No pictures of family sat on Nico's desk; he didn't have any.

Nico sat on his old bed. On the opposite bed wasn't his old roommate Matt, but a young boy with brown hair and eyes. He was a little pale and long and lanky like he'd just had a growth spurt. Innocent eyes watched the son of Hades take in his surroundings. The boy looked ten or eleven, the same age Nico was when he attended the school.

"I can help you," the boy said. "I can make you the person you always wanted."

"I miss this place," Nico thought out loud.

"I can help you," the boy repeated, unfazed despite the fact that Nico had ignored him. He walked over to him and looked him straight in the eye. "Trust me."

"I don't know you," Nico replied. "How can I trust you?"

"Because I can help you," the boy repeated. "Don't you want to be here again? To feel the way you did when your sister was still alive?"

"Bianca?" Nico asked, surprised. "How do you know about her?"

"Because I am you, stupid. It's your dream, your head. Of course I know about your sister, what do you think of me?" Nico was so caught off guard that he didn't respond. The boy didn't seem to care; instead, he continued speaking. "I can make you the most powerful demigod ever. With my help, you'll finish your quest, make your father proud, and achieve everything you ever wanted. All you need to do is trust me." The boy walked over to Nico and sat beside him. "Don't you want my help?"

Nico was tempted. He didn't know why, but a part of him trusted this stranger, who'd given him all this. He wanted so badly to go into the mess hall and see the old mortal friends he'd left behind... Jake, Tristan, and Matt... especially Matt. He wanted to run out of the room, and up the stairs to where he knew Bianca's dorm room was; burst in, apologize for not protecting her, and never leave her side again.