north

xxi, precipice

Bianca lays a wet cloth over Nico's scorched forehead.

He blinks. It's Reyna, now. Blinks again. Hazel. Blinks one more time. Everything in him pounds with pain. There's blue light. Blue eyes. Thalia's slick black hair. A scarred smile. Luke's twisted jaw. Riptide gleaming in the snow. That broad, powerful back. Striding away from him. Nico is alone. Jason's back to him. In the elevator. His purple shirt is so faded. Sweat spills down his face, his shaking hands.

"Breathe, Nico," someone reminds him. Probably Hazel. Spooning broth into his empty body that twitches and pulses with each breath of clean air flooding his lungs. "You're in the infirmary on the Argo II. You're with me. You're safe."

He's seen Hazel often but Reyna's been there, too, calming him. Sometimes Frank will pop in to check on them both. Piper brings blankets. Leo stands at the door and buzzes his lips. He'd be angry at Percy or Annabeth if he had energy enough to breathe. He's not even sure if anything he's seeing or saying is real. There's a strange haze over everything. It could be a side effect of his fever. It's doing wonders for his paranoia and his mind's insistence that this is just Tartarus, still Tartarus, and he's never getting out.

The other constant presence is Jason. He comes when it's quiet, when the night is cool, when Nico's clarity is at its best. Perhaps it is that Jason brings that clarity with him. He'll comb through knots in his hair, trace fingers over his pronounced collarbone, all while Nico tries to remember to breathe.

They ride out the silence together. When Nico starts seeing green eyes in the dark, Jason will take his chin in hand and raise his head to the light. When Jason's memory flickers at the mention of a name, a place, Nico chases his panic away by tucking golden curls behind his ear.

"Is this real?" Jason asks again that night. Nico's fingers linger in his hair. Jason slides his hand over Nico's, slow, but not hesitant. He's testing Nico.

Nico's feverish state isn't bringing him any closer to that truth. Jason is all he has left to cling to, so he does. "I hope so." The moon hangs high, poetry ringing across the hillside. Jason is at his side but he's still too far away. "Ti ricordi--" Nico wrinkles his nose. English isn't working in his muddled brain, his muddled brain that already struggles with words. Once he's sorted himself out, he continues, "You remember. I said I... I would tell you."

Jason flips over the now warm cloth on his head. "Tell me what?" His voice is so sweet. He remembers his mother's homemade tiramisu.

"What you were. Are. Meant to me." Each word is spat off his dry tongue, propelled by coughs. His hand fumbles with the collar of Jason's shirt and he pulls him down, close, trying to get him to hear, needing Jason's cold fire to still his fever.

Jason's brow furrows. "Don't worry about that now, Nico. Just rest."

"But--" I need to tell you.

Jason returns Nico's hand to his side, gentle, unwinding his crooked fingers, pressing a finger to his lips. Then his lips to Nico's forehead. It's a modesty so heavy that it sinks him further into the sweat soaked mattress. "I know. But you aren't dying. This isn't goodbye. You have all the time in the world. Just... talk to me when you're really ready." Then he smiles, a smile Nico can never and will never refuse. The desire to tell him was the only thing keeping him awake so he lets his request slip into the darkness with his consciousness.

Two days. He can't escape Tartarus. He's stuck in this feverish state, cold and hot flashes, taut limbs and brittle bones, unable to even stand on his own. Reyna has given him her strength in small amounts. It drains her as much as it helps him and he doesn't want her to see what's inside him.

But Nico can't bake in his flesh while the world crumbles outside the infirmary. He needs Reyna to jumpstart his heart. Shorten the healing process exponentially. He explains this to her in one of his fleeting moments of sobriety. The praetor sits unsure at his bedside, Hazel across from her. "I don't like this," Hazel says. "You can't keep taking shortcuts to heal, Nico. You're just going to hurt yourself more down the road."