like i'm made of glass

i. You lit my life up, but now you’re gone. So I turn away from the light, and begin my descent into darkness.

-

The first thing he sees when he wakes up is his sister.

Immediately, all the anger and grief that always accompanies the sight of Bianca rushes into him, but he ignores the sudden influx of emotion, as he has long since learned to control it. Maybe he hasn’t completely gotten over her death—he accepts and understands it, but that doesn’t mean he wants it to be true—but what’s done is done, and there is no point in wishing the impossible.

It’s a rather unconventional time—two in the morning to be exact. He hasn’t summoned his sister, and doubts Hades would have let Bianca come to the living world for a friendly visit. He opens his mouth to ask why she is here, but she beats him to it. “Father sent me,” she says before he can even form his question into speech. “He’s got something to show you.” When he doesn’t respond, she makes an impatient noise and beckons with her hand. “Come, Nico. I don’t have all the time in the world.”

“Why can’t Father come and show me whatever he wants to show me himself?” he grumbles as he gets out of bed, fully dressed—for what’s the point of changing clothes all the time like an obsessed Aphrodite girl?—and ready to complain for the next few minutes. Summoning the dead is hard work, and he needs his sleep. But the sight of his sister, looking so alive in the moonlight streaming through the windows of his cabin, makes him swallow down the nasty comment he has at the tip of his tongue. Instead, he follows her outside the cabin, feeling a strange pressure at the back of his eyes. Crying is for wimps, he thinks furiously, as he follows Bianca past the Big House, the strawberry fields, and into the woods, disregarding the fact that the curfew harpies may find him any moment. What’s wrong with you?

Bianca stops at the edge of the woods and faces him. Now that the trees are blocking out most of the moonlight shining down from the sky, the expression on his sister’s face is shadowed…fearful and worried.

“Well,” he asks, trying to not sound too demanding. “What are you waiting for, Bianca?”

She blinks, then shakes her head. “It’s nothing. But Nico…promise me that you’ll understand. Please.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, suddenly feeling fear burning in his chest. “What’s happened?” He waits for an answer, but she is already walking ahead, her ghostly light flickering in the dark forest. Cursing under his breath, he follows her into a deeper section of the woods, a place where no half-blood should be in the middle of the night.

It is there, among the trees, where he first sees her. Curled up in a shivering bundle and looking like she has been on the run for quite some time, the little girl sleeping on the ground can’t be more than seven or eight. He turns incredulously towards his sister. “Father sent you as a messenger all the way from the dead to show me a half-blood?” He shakes his in disbelief. “I know, Bianca. The girl would have most likely died during the night. But what’s Hades playing at? He could have just sent an IM or something. Why is he even caring about what happens to this girl? What’s so important about her?”

He swears he can see a silvery, translucent tear glisten as it trails down Bianca’s cheek, but when he looks closer, it’s gone. “She has Father’s favor, Nico. That’s how she’s survived for so long, at such a young age.” His sister’s voice grows softer—so soft, in fact, that he has to strain his ears amidst the rustling forest to hear her. “I asked to come lead you here, Nico. I thought that this could help you, to help you learn that you still have family with you, a family that cares. Please, Nico, you have to understand. I want the best for you.” Her tone is pleading now, and…guilty.

The clues click together in his mind, and turns on her, anger rushing through his veins. “Is this some sort of cruel joke?” he hisses. “Is this some sort of twisted game ghosts play on their living family members? Does this show caring? You think I can live with this every day, seeing her”—jabbing his finger at the child on the ground—“without hating her, without feeling fear and thinking that any moment, she’ll turn out like how you did? That she’ll die?” He stops, trying to catch his breath, and for a moment, the woods are silent except for the tree leaves brushing against each other and his labored breathing.

Bianca looks upon him with a sorrowful expression—pity. Gods damn it—he can’t stand pity, especially from his dead sister. “Nico,” she says tenderly, “you need to learn to love the world again. You need to learn to love your family.”

“I do love my family,” he says desperately, feeling the tears sliding down his face. “I love you, Bianca. You’re my family.” But she’s gone, and he furiously wipes away his tears, shaken. He looks at the little girl, still unconscious on the ground, and picks her up none too gently.

“Let’s get you to Camp Half-Blood, little sister,” he mutters vehemently, and begins the long walk back, with more than just a physical burden in his hands.

-

ii. Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

-

“…daughter of Hades, you say,” Chiron asks him for what seems the hundredth time. “And you have absolute proof?”

“Yes, Chiron,” he replies, trying to keep the exasperation from creeping into his voice. “I have proof. She is a daughter of Hades.” The little girl—his sister—is upstairs, sleeping in one of the rooms in the Big House, which is good, because he’s not sure if he wants to strangle her to death or hover protectively around her.

“Nico,” Chiron’s voice sounds in his ear, and he realizes that the centaur has been speaking to him for the past half minute. “Are you even listening to me?”

No, he thinks with amusement. Out loud, he says absentmindedly, “I’ve got to go, Chiron. Thanks for talking to me.” Which a rather pointless statement to make, because he’s the one who requested I speak with him in the first place.

Chiron opens his mouth to say something, but he gives the centaur a nod and quickly walks out of the door of the Big House. Outside, on the porch, he stretches and yawns—he didn’t get any sleep last night after Bianca came. The sun is blazing brightly in the clear blue sky, and he winces as his eyes attempt to adjust to the light, then quickly stares at the ground to avoid the rays. After all, he is a child of Hades, and sunlight just doesn’t work well with him.

“Watch it, kid. Get your ugly self out of my way.” The speaker is a burly daughter of Ares—not Clarisse—whose name he can’t remember. With so many demigods appearing into Camp Half-Blood, it’s getting harder and harder to recognize faces. The generic ‘I’m gonna kill you right now’ look on this girl, though, instantly matches with Ares.

She’s leaning on the porch railing, a scowl on her face and a big, meaty fist raised at him. He raises his head and stares at her amusedly. The Ares girl swallows visibly, then backs away. “Freak,” he hears her mutter before she rushes away, probably off to bully some other innocent looking half-blood.

“Freak,” he whispers to himself, staring at his hands. “Is that what I am?” He steps off the porch and begins walking towards his cabin, mindless of the other campers around him. Freak, his mind tells him. You are a freak. You love no one but your dead sister. You spend most of your time with the dead. You expect to fit in with the rest of the world? What are you? Nothing. Nothing at all.

A scream catches his attention, and he looks up again to see two of the younger campers, a couple of girls who look about eleven, backing away from him in utmost horror. He glances around, wondering why, then realizes that without thinking, he has unsheathed his sword and used the weapon to tap the ground multiple times.  Skeletons of animals and Roman soldiers surround him, all looking upon him for instructions.

See? You are a freak, his mind says, almost smugly. Told you. He grits his teeth, then waves his sword. The skeletons disappear, and the two girls run off, shrieking in terror. Freak. Freak. Freak.

“Nico!”

Annabeth is running towards him, long hair tied in a ponytail. Her smile is the best thing he’s seen all day, and for a moment, he wonders if he really can be accepted by everyone else. Then, she reaches him, and he sees that her smile is forced, and she isn’t looking him in the eye. His hopes plummeted down immediately—if Annabeth, who has always been nice and caring towards him, can’t bear to look at him without revulsion…well, the rest of the world must pretty much hate him.

“Hey,” she tells him, breathless from her run. “I heard from Chiron that you found a girl in the woods…Chiron said something about a daughter of Hades. Is it true?”

It’s the last straw. He turns away from Annabeth and snaps at her—at Annabeth, whom he would never be angry at in a million years—that “why don’t you find out yourself, if you’re so smart?” He stalks off, leaving a shocked daughter of Athena staring at him, openmouthed.

Needless to say, he ends up in a rather bad mood for the rest of the day.

-

iii. Do not pity the dead. Pity the ones who live without love.

-

A knock on his cabin cuts through his thinking, and he snaps out of his stupor to open the door. She is standing in the entranceway, gazing curiously around at his cabin. He hasn’t seen her for almost a week, not since he had brought her to Camp Half-Blood. For a moment, he has an urge to slam the door in her face, go back to his bed, and forget that she exists, but common sense wins over for once, and he opens the door wider to let her in.

“Nice cabin,” she comments calmly, glancing at the green fire burning in lamps on his walls. “It’s very…suitable, I guess.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at her. She’s wearing a camp t-shirt and jeans, both way too large for her. Black hair, just like his, falls into her dark eyes, and her slightly chubby face is much more innocent and happy than he has been for years.

After a while, she looks back at him, and the corners of her lips twitch upwards in a faint smile. “I’m guessing you’re Nico? Chiron told me about you.”

He nods mutely. She seems too mature for a seven year old, but then, children of Hades tend to grow emotionally faster than others. Something to do with preparing you for the constant death in your life, he supposes.

“Good, then.” She holds her hand out for him to shake. “I’m Jessica Griffith. Ten years old, daughter of Hades, and apparently your sister.”

He can’t help but splutter at that. “You’re ten? I thought you were seven!”

She crosses her arms and glares at him defiantly. “Just because I’m short and small doesn’t mean I’m a kid! Do you always go around judging people by their statures?”

He feels a rush of affection and a need to protect this tiny, scowling figure, and immediately squashes the feeling down. He won’t like her. He’ll hate her forever. Because if anything happens to her, he’ll be too attached, and he’ll end up hurting. He doesn’t want to hurt, not after Bianca.    

“Go pick a bunk,” he says abruptly, and turns away. “Do whatever you want. Suit yourself. Explore the camp. Try not to get yourself killed. I’ll come back when dinner’s ready.”

Before she can make a response, he steps out of the cabin, slams the door behind him, and starts running towards the woods, ignoring any stares directed his way as he passes campers around the camp. He needs to vent out his emotions, to make sense of them, and right now, killing a bunch of monsters seems to be a pretty good idea.

The woods are silent when he enters them, but he’s learned through experience that if you stay in one place long enough, monsters will be attracted to you like sharks to blood.

Sure enough, a monster crashes through the undergrowth towards him in less than a minute. He slashes at the monster and watches disinterestedly as his sword sucks up the essence of the beast, reducing it to dust. Then the rest of the monsters are upon him, and for a while, he knows nothing but the fact that he must fight.

The battle goes well for him. He focuses everything upon his fighting, and stops thinking about Jessica Griffith. The repetitive movements—lunge, duck, stab, jump—drive away the need for emotion. However, there aren’t enough monsters to keep him occupied for long, and much too soon, he finds himself demolishing the last monster and alone.

The reality crashes onto him again. I have a sister and I can’t accept her because no one can replace Bianca, and I’m afraid something will happen and I won’t be able to save her. He sinks to his knees and chokes down a sob. I’ll be a failure. I’ll be worse than nothing. Because that’s what I am. A freak. Don’t they all say that?

Suddenly, he’s angry, rage obscuring his vision. He jumps up and points his index finger accusingly at the heavens. “That’s right,” he yells. “Laugh all you want, you gods. I don’t care. Am I am adequate source of entertainment? To twist me around my emotions, because you all are messed up enough to enjoy people in turmoil? And you, Bianca,”—glaring at the ground and ignoring the thunder that rumbles after his words—“you know I’d feel this way. But you still led me to her. Well guess what? I’m not going to listen to you. I hate her! I hate you. I hate the whole fucking world!”

He pauses, because he has nothing left to say. He’s crying again, dammit, and it makes him feel so weak. A rustling sound behind him makes him turn, and he sees a dryad stare at him, her hands covering her mouth in astonishment. She has probably heard his entire rant, and that makes him even angrier.

“Get out!” he bellows, and watches with some demented satisfaction as she squeals in fright and disappears in a poof of green mist. That’ll teach her to bother me.

He looks up at the sky, and suddenly, all the fury leaves him, and all he’s left with is a hollow sense of loss in the pit of his stomach. In the distance, the conch horn sounds, and he starts walking back to camp resignedly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he steps out of the woods and the familiar sight of the dining pavilion greets him.

He can almost feel the gaze of the gods boring into him. You’d better be, they seem to whisper. Or else.

-

iv. You’d be surprised at how much some people mean to you.

-

Jessica talks throughout the entire first half of dinner. She seems to have forgotten entirely about his rudeness earlier on, and is now chattering on and on about absolutely pointless things that he doesn’t bother to listen to. Several times, he’s tempted to strangle her, but the prospect of her getting hurt stops him, and he gets all confused and miserable because he needs to hate her, but he can’t quite manage that.

Finally, when he can’t take any more of her babbling, he tells her (not very nicely) to shut up. She gives him a confused and hurt look, which he returns with an icy stare, and the rest of the meal passes by in a tense silence.

He gets up to leave right after he finishes eating, but is stopped by Chiron, who makes an announcement: “Capture the Flag will begin soon, everyone. You have an hour after dinner before it starts.” The centaur sits down, and the dining pavilion is filled with talking again.

Capture the Flag? When was this announced? He frowns in confusion as Jessica tugs at his sleeve, asking him what Capture the Flag is. As he absentmindedly explains to her the rules and teams, he mentally starts rummaging through every single memory of the past few weeks. He finally remembers that there had been an announcement for Capture the Flag a week ago, and that he has made an alliance with Athena. Relieved, he turns to Jessica just as she is finishing her next question.

“…so, I’m fighting?” she asks. “With swords and stuff?”

“No,” he replies immediately. “Of course not. What gave you that idea? You haven’t trained at at all, and Capture the Flag’s too dangerous for you.” He tells himself it’s not also because he can’t bear to see her in any risky situation.

“This is because I’m too short, isn’t it,” she pouts. “I swear, I can take care of myself!”

“No,” he says, firmly this time. “You are not going to play Capture the Flag. End of story.” He glares at her until she nods, then walks away to join his team. The entire time Chiron talks about the rules, he keeps his eyes trained on Jessica, making sure that she doesn’t disobey him. Chiron shouts go, everyone else runs off, and he’s left standing there for a moment, before someone drags him of and he forgets about Jessica and focuses on the game.

It’s in the middle of the game when he runs into two Ares kids on the other team. Normally, fending them off isn’t a problem, but since Chiron has prohibited raising the dead during Capture the Flag due to the time the he accidently directed an entire infantry at an innocent dryad, he doesn’t really want to take his chances on his skill alone against a couple of war-insane children of the god of war.

Then he realizes that they aren’t even paying attention to him. Both of them are advancing upon a very small figure standing bravely by the trees—

Jessica.

He has half the mind to get out there and start berating her, but of course, there’s the problem of those Ares spawn currently trying to kill her. As he takes in the surroundings, he notices that one of the Ares kids is the girl whom he scared off about a week ago. Well then. Yet another super angry enemy he has to face if he attacks.

The other Ares kid lunges at Jessica, and he almost forgets how to breathe. He doesn’t need to worry, though. Jessica nimbly dodges the blow, and at once, as if controlled by some other force, she raises her hands and mumbles something. Skeletons rise out of dirt around her, and at once, both children of Ares run off, chased by Roman soldiers.

What’s with the Romans? the ADHD part of him wonders, but he pushes that thought away, and runs towards Jessica, hoping that she’s okay. As he gets closer, Jessica turns towards him with a blank look in her eyes, mouthing words he can’t hear.

“Jessica?” he asks tentatively. Gods, she must have had a huge dose of adrenaline, because she should be collapsing in exhaustion by now.

She gives him one last blank look, then comprehension comes into her eyes. “No,” she gasps, and runs off into the trees, leaving him alone, as if nothing has happened.

He growls in frustration, then searches his pockets, finding a plastic bag full of rather squished ambrosia squares. He knows he shouldn’t be quitting in the middle of the game, but…screw Capture the Flag. This is more important.

He gives the forest one last glance, then runs after Jessica.

-

v. Someday, everything will make sense, and someone will love you again.

-

He finds her sitting in the grass, slumped against the Hades cabin.

She doesn’t move as he comes closer, and as he sits down beside her, only a slight nod shows that she notices him. “Hey,” he says. “You must be exhausted. Eat some ambrosia.” He passes the food of the gods to her, and she eats a couple of squares. She doesn’t move from her slumped position, but she begins to look a whole lot more awake.

“You know,” he comments, after they have sat there for a minute or so in silence, “raising the dead during Capture the Flag isn’t allowed.” He gets a strained smile in response, but nothing else. “Alright, then,” he says, starting to get up. “If you want to rest, I can carry you into the cabin.”

“You would?” Her voice is hoarse, and she looks like she’s about to pass out from the effort of speaking. He responds by picking her up bridal style, taking her into the cabin, and setting her on the bed she picked for herself earlier in the day. She’s so light and small; he has no problem at all carrying her.

She leans back on her pillow, and with a start, he realizes that a tear is leaking out from under her eyelids. He sits there awkwardly, not exactly sure what to do, when she sits up without warning and shouts, “I hate skeletons!”

And suddenly, he finds himself holding her as she’s sobbing desperately on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he says automatically, as she clings to him, still crying. “Um…well, maybe not okay. But it will be okay.” He’s still wondering how the heck she is still awake after raising so much dead—the first time he tried he fell asleep within five minutes—but he puts the thought aside when she finally raises her head and stares at him with tears still on her face.

They stay in that position for a few more moments, before Jessica pushes herself away, and wipes her eyes. “I’m sorry. For crying on you and all that. And making your shirt wet. You know.” Her voice sounds muffled, but when he glances at her, she gives him a weak smile. “And I’m sorry for joining Capture the Flag and disobeying you. Really.”

“Um…” He can’t exactly say oh, it’s all right, so he settles for “Try not to do that again, okay?”

They sit in silence for a minute or so, when Jessica speaks again. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

“What makes you think that?” is his immediate, defensive retort. She stares at him with a hello-it’s-totally-obvious look, and he feels guilty—he didn’t mean to make it so obvious.

“It’s not like that,” he says finally. “I just don’t know what to think of you. Bianca was my sister, and she died a few years back. So when you came, I thought it was a sort of cruel joke. I didn’t want to like you, because…because I already had a sister I couldn’t protect, and…it hurts to be reminded of her, you know. And…if I become too attached to you”—he swallows with difficulty—“I guess I’d always be worried that you might die or something.  If you got hurt, I wouldn’t be able to stand it.”

“Bianca is the girl with the silver—” Jessica’s eyes widen and she seems to freeze midsentence. “The ghost who walked with me when I first got here.”

“Yeah. Probably.” It takes so much effort to force the words out of his unwilling mouth, but he manages it, and strangely enough, instead of feeling choked with emotions, he feels lighter somehow. As if he’s come to terms with something.

“Oh.” There’s a brief silence, then, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He cracks a pained, half smile, and holds out his hand in some sort of an attempt at a truce. “We should hide before they find out we’re skipping out on Capture the Flag.”

“They punish you for that?” Jessica looks confused, but she reaches out and takes his hand.

“Duh.” He pulls her up and shakes his head. “You’ve really got to watch out in this camp. The Ares kids are the worst. And you can’t just go around summoning the dead all the time. People start giving you strange looks.”

“Seriously?”

He knows Bianca is watching him as Jessica looks at him with solemn eyes and a serious expression, and to be honest, he hasn’t fully accepted this new sister of his, but he’s slowly getting there, slowly learning how to love his family again.

fin