Time heals

Nico POV

Nightmares weren't as nearly as bad compared to how they were when I had been half dead. I felt like I could at least try and sleep at night without the fear of dying completely or fusing with the shadows in my dreams. That didn't make them any more tolerable though.

I frequently woke up shivering and crying. They weren't dreams of importance like I'd get when something important was happening. They were dreams of trauma. My own PTSD circling around my head at night like vultures attacking a carcass, each one eliciting a painful memory from my past, clawing, digging, gnawing.

Sometimes I found the strength to fight them off. But most of the time, they would creep around me, dark and powerful, stalking me until I had no choice but to submit to their cruelty. I was technically a prisoner of war. The giants hadn't tortured me per se... but sometimes it had felt just as bad, being slowly drained of life as they laughed at my death in costumes, with props, making the whole thing a huge spectacle no one would ever forget.

Eros wasn't an experience that would be wiped from my mind easily either. Being thrown around like a rag doll, forced to come out... in that... way... It still made me feel sick. Every time he appeared in my dreams, his stupid handsome face and rugged jawline, I felt that same wave of helplessness wash over me like he was attacking me all over again. Which, I guess he was. Love didn't stop, did it? Then why did I feel differently about that particular experience? It was like every time I had relived it, it hadn't become any less painful but... it had become easier to admit. Eros had told me that the only way to conquer him was to face him. Was I finally understanding?

I scoffed at myself. This couldn't be Nico di Angelo learning of self acceptance, could it? Maybe it was just becoming easier because I knew I was truly starting to leave Percy Jackson behind. Maybe it was because I wasn't afraid of people finding out anymore. Maybe it was because I was starting to become okay with being... gay.

The word still made me cringe, but just like the Eros memory, that was also getting easier. Not that I would ever be grateful to that scheming little... He had shot a freaking arrow into my arm! As I pondered that fact, I thought about... Could it be possible that...?

No. I stopped myself. I would not get carried away again. I would not fall for the wrong person again. I owed myself that promise. The next time it happened, I would be ready. It had to be right.

He had to be right.

*

Piper came up to me as I was preparing for spar training in the arena during my first real week of properly giving camp Half blood a chance.

"Thanks for trying to look for Leo," she told me by way of greeting.

I looked up from adjusting the training sword. "I'm sorry I couldn't find anything," I said sincerely. I wasn't lying; I really couldn't find anything about Valdez in the dreamscape. I was also sorry for myself. The hope that he was still alive was slowly starting to dissolve.

"That's okay," Piper assured, but I could tell it wasn't. Her best friend was missing. "It's not conclusive or anything, right?"

I nodded. "I'm not the expert in dreams and even if he actually wasn't there, just because he's not dreaming, it doesn't mean..."

Piper nodded. "It's all just very confusing," she sighed. "Jason told me that you can't sense him in the underworld anymore?"

"That doesn't mean much either," I said sadly, although that troubled me too. "It's not like he could've just vanished. He must be somewhere. It's just beyond my sight."

"I wish Chiron let us go and search," she complained. I didn't know why she was still talking to me. I wasn't under the impression that she even liked me, and she'd already thanked me for the use she needed me for.