How Icarus Fell From the Sun (a Solangelo fanfic)

okay so maybe maria's not badass

cw: lots of homophobic language, and a slur (said twice in italian, watered down in my translations)

He had the dream of his mother again. It seemed to last for an eternity. Repeating when it ended. The longer he slept, the longer he suffered, and try as he might, he could not wake up. So he suffered through it. Again and again, he watched his mother die, until finally he was released from that prison, only to feel his sister die, all while his head was in the clouds.

This time, though, the dream of young Will shifted. Morphed. When Nico left, Will followed, thoughts of Clarisse and lava walls be damned.

10 year old Will ran to catch up with him, up the hill, and through the grass. He ended up only inches behind him, and he called out "Nico!"

But Nico ignored him, furious with grief and confusion, so young Will clasped his shoulder from behind, spun Nico around to face him, and suddenly they were in the forest. They were 14. And they were far too close.

Another memory. But a tainted one. A memory warped by regret, and want, and need. Nico could feel Will's hair through his fingers, could feel his breath so close to his face, his hands, cupping Nico's face and jaw, his thumb stroking his cheek. Could taste the s'mores on his tongue from the pre-game campfire as he leaned in, their electric moment going uninterrupted. No footsteps, no monsters, no daughters of the love goddess.

Just Will and Nico, raw and vulnerable, but so, incredibly content. Sighing happily, a tangle of mouths and arms and the sounds of a far away competition melting into the quiet of the forest.

Until Will was wrenched away, forcefully. Someone's hand on his shoulder, pulling him back farther and tutting. Black painted fingernails, long and sharp, but the curve of their hand gentle, and telling.

"Dobbiamo prestare attenzione, Nico, amore, perché siamo sempre agli occhi di Dio." We must be careful, Nico, love, because we are always in God's eyes.

That voice. He recognized it. Full of warmth, and honey, and love. But the meaning of her words, his mama's words, made his eyes sting. What would she think? Would she even be able to tolerate him? Him and his sinful, ugly, wrong thoughts?

He couldn't help it. He couldn't change himself, he knew that now. He hadn't always. But he didn't remember his mother. His only memory of her, a gift and a curse, was barely even a memory. It was an accident. A scene he watched unfold so many years after it occurred that jarred something inside of him. Changed him, until he could shake a single memory loose. The one memory the lethe was supposed to erase for good. The one memory he wished he hadn't had.

Except now, now as he slept, and watched the graceful arm of his Mama pull away the boy he thought he might want, might need, he felt his surroundings grow fuzzy. He watched the scene dissolve, the same way it had when Alecto had taken them to the Lethe at his fathers command. Only this time, when everything around him was clear again, he was back in the hotel, rather than far, far away from it. He was merely an energetic 7 year old boy. Excited to be living in America. Excited to be living in a fancy hotel. Excited to play, and color with his sister until it was too dark to see the paper.

This was another memory, he realized, sinking feeling in his stomach growing. A new one. Something unlocked by his dream filled sleep. Something unlocked by Will, yet again.

Before Nico could think any further of it, think any further of him, he was sucked into the memory, unable to do anything but allow it to play out, just as it had with Will.

Nico, Bianca, and Mama were holding hands on the floor, against the sofa, above the small coffee table. Nico and Bianca's cold food growing even cooler beneath their clasped hands.