𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒! percy jackson

iv. Thieving Scoundrels

━━ chapter four
thieving scoundrels

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

    CONSIDERING Sam went through some real shit to help Nico, he felt as though he was a little lacking in his gratitude. Sam never asked for thanks, mainly because he was too anxious to. But his pride that he got from his mother (thank you, Athena) made him a strange mixture of wanting Nico to thank him and appreciate him, but also too scared to speak up about it.

    All he did was sit up on top of that mast, looking out, not sleeping, and brooding. Very son of Hades. He rarely talked to anyone aside from Hazel, and Sam hated the part of him that wanted to climb up there, sit next to him and risk being pushed off by shadows to get something out of him.

    Sam fiddled with his fingers at the table the morning they were getting closer to Bologna. The tension was as thick as ever; all of the demigods were unsure of what to do without Percy and Fiona around. He sat beside his sister, glancing at her briefly. Annabeth tried to stay strong, she tried to be what they all expected her to be, but she was limp in her grey gaze. She didn't know what to do, and it was destroying her. 

     Sam glanced over at Nico sitting near Hazel. He looked better than he had a few days ago, but still was like a walking ghost. His dark hair hung over his dark eyes as if he wanted to fall asleep, but wouldn't. Maybe he was scared of sleep. Sometimes Sam was━sleep was always a quest of its own for demigods, with horros and gods and monsters. 

     His gaze moved to the walls that showed real-life time from Camp Half-Blood. He missed the only home he felt like he belonged in. His siblings and friends that were better family than his father ever was. 

     Don't think about him, he grumbled to himself. You'll be in a mood for the rest of the day. 

     Sam picked up Fiona's pugio and twisted it in his fingers, finally bringing himself to listen to the conversaiton happening around him when Nico spoke up. He hated how he intrigued him, purely because he was the reason Sam was here in the first place. The son of Hades sat forward and stated, "I communed with the dead last night," like it was a casual thing everyone did now and then. "I was able to learn more about what we'll face. In acient times, the House of Hades was a major site for Greek pilgrims. They would come to speak with the dead and honour their ancestors."

    Leo frowned, "Sounds like Día de los Muertos. My Aunt Rosa took that stuff seriously."

    "The Chinese have that, too," grunted Frank. "Ancestor worship, sweeping the graves in the springtime," he glanced at Leo. "Your Aunt Rosa would've got along with my grandmother."

     "Yeah," muttered the son of Hephaestus. He sounded bitter. "I'm sure they would've been best buds..."

    Nico cleared his throat. "A lot of cultures have seasonal traditions to honour the dead, but the House of Hades was open year round. Pilgrims could actually speak to the ghosts. In Greek, the place was called the Necromanteoin, the Oracle of Death. You'd work your way through different levels of tunnels, leaving offerings and drinking special potions━"

    "Special potions," Leo said. "Yum."

    Annabeth and Jason both shot him looks to say quiet. "Nico, go on," said Sam's sister.