This Isn't the 1940's

Nico

*Trigger Warning: internalized homophobia, homophobic violence, mentions of blood and injury*

Gods, Nico had screwed everything up. He finally had a moment alone with Will, and now Will hated him, and was probably never going to talk to him ever again.

Everything had started out beautifully. Will had managed to get away from his siblings, and they finally were alone at last. Nico had been ready to explode. They hadn't been together for weeks, it just isn't safe Nico reminded himself, and a tiny voice in his head muttered it's wrong , it's so wrong, but then Will had been there, on the grass with the setting sun causing his eyes to glow and hair to shine. He had let Will's soothing voice wash over him, and Gods everything was perfect. Nico was safe. He was home. 

And then Will let Nico kiss him, and it was Elysium on earth. The way Will was gently twisting his hair, his soft lips...

And then that Godsdamn bird had gotten stuck. Immediately Nico had jerked away from Will, frantically looking around to make sure no one could see what they were doing. He panicked, he couldn't focus, all he could feel was the pounding of his heart and the storm of anxiety washing through his body, praying to every God, Greek, Roman, Egyptian, all of them, begging for help. Nico couldn't even imagine what would happen if the camp found out. Will and him would be hated, the absolute outsiders - if they were allowed to stay at all. So he couldn't help but feel so euphoric when he realized their secret was still safe.

But then Will was hurt, demanding to know why Nico had been avoiding him, why Nico couldn't bear to let him touch him in public, and Nico choked. He couldn't explain, Will wouldn't get it, wouldn't understand why the very thought of someone knowing about them made Nico want to sink through the Earth itself, right into the Underworld...

Because when Nico heard the damned bird rustling in the trees, he had suddenly been taken back Italy, 1941, when he was nine years old.

--------------------- Memory ---------------------------------------------------------------

The sky was overcast and grey, dark clouds threatening to spill onto the streets below. Nico hurried along, a block ahead of Bianca as they returned home from school. He was supposed to walk with her, but she was so slow, and Nico would rather be dead than caught walking with his older sister. 

He skipped on past the bank and the Principe di Savoia Hotel and continued down an ally way, picking up his pace as the first few raindrops began to fall. Nico continued to skip along the twisting Venetian roads, his excited feet just managing to skirt the rapidly filling puddles. He's trying not to get soaked - he can still his his mother's voice from the last time he jumped in the puddles. Nico turns into an ally, where suddenly he stops. Deep voices, loud voices, are swelling out from the shadowy depths.

"You fucking FAGGOT!" A harsh, angry voice rends the air. Nico can hear the sound of someone being punched or kicked, and he sinks a little backwards.

A flurry of footsteps grow louder and louder, and suddenly two large men burst into the light, grappling for each others hands as they run. Blood ran from both of their lips and noses, and the taller man had a cut over his eye that was pouring blood down his face. Their arms and legs fly every which way as the stumble towards the opening, but they're too slow.

Just behind them, two other men, fury knit into their brows so tightly Nico didn't think it would ever leave, come racing like bulls towards the fleeing men. One hand shoots out and grabs the shorter man by the edge of his coat and yanks. 

"Emilio!" He screams as he goes sprawling to the ground with a sickening crack. He doesn't move.

"No... no.. NO!" Emilio turns and rushes back to the fallen body. "Antonio, Antonio, mi amore, come on, come!" He's crouched by Antonio's head, cradling it, stroking the blood-matted hair away from those lifeless eyes. Nico can only watch.

As if Emilio can sense the intrusion on this private moment, he looks up and for the first time sees the little boy standing frozen in the ally way. "Please, please," he chokes out, "Get help, call someone, find your mother get her to call someone, save him, please I beg you..."

But Nico can only stand, and stare. Stare as he watches the two angry men wheel back and grab Emilio by the arms and drag him off the other's body. As the steadily widening pool of blood from Antonio's head reaches towards Nico's feet. Stare as he hears the inhuman scream gush from Emilio's mouth as he tries to claw his way back to his lover, the other man... 

Stare, as he watches the two bulls swing their arms like clubs over and over. Stare as the agonizing screams turn to dull whimpers.

Through it all, Nico heard their shouts and words that scarred the air like fire. 

"FAGGOT!"

"No, please, nothing happened -" the next words out of Emilio's mouth are hidden under a gag of blood.

"Trying to get the kid to help you," one of the men sneers. "Trying to corrupt a kid, huh? You filthy faggot, thinking you can kiss one of your men here-"

Over and over and over the words and land, and Nico does nothing. It seems like hours, but could only have been minutes when Bianca shows up. 

"Nico, there you are! I told you not to get too far ahead -" She stops when she sees the scene, when she sees Nico staring, his feet in a pool of blood. Quickly she grabs his arm and pulls him away, hurrying out of the ally and down a street, ignoring the hoarse "please..." that follows them out. They aren't far enough away to ignore that last scream cut suddenly short.

Bianca races Nico to their house, running quickly up the stairs and into his room so that their mother misses his tears. With shaking hands, she pulls off Nico's bloodied shoes, and drags a handkerchief across his face.  The room is silent with unspoken thought, until Nico couldn't stand it anymore.

"Is it - is it bad to be like those men?" But he knew it was. He knew it was wrong because of the way Mario Abato shoved him when he caught Nico staring just a little too long. He knew it was wrong because of the Father at Church, who went up and preached God's Word. He knew it because those men were dead, killed, right in the open and nothing would happen. 

Bianca hesitated. "Nico, listen to me. Boy's should like girls, okay? And girls... girls should like boy's, alright?" Nico didn't understand the wistful sigh Bianca breathed, but he forgot it when she continued. "You don't want to be like them, because they get killed. But you won't, because you like the girls in your class, like you should, so just forget about them, okay?"

And he couldn't. He could only forget himself, let himself be hidden away so completely that at times even he couldn't tell what was real and what was a show. Never let them see you, he thought. That was rule number one. 

---------------------- End of Memory ------------------------------------

Nico was shaking. Will was gone because of him, because he couldn't make him see that loving him publicly was a declaration of war. A betrayal of every fence and wall Nico and built in himself. 

But Will.... Will was worth it. Nico knew that, in the deepest part of his bones, he longed to throw an arm around Will and hold him by the campfire. Visit him in his cabin and kiss him as deeply as possible.

Most importantly, Nico knew that Will deserved the truth.