LIABILITY - WILCO SOLANGELO

Ch. 34

Updating? So soon? Me? 

PERCY POV

When I had walked into Nico's cabin that morning, I knew he wasn't alright. That's why I dropped by, duh. He told me he'd had a nightmare of sorts. And boy, I knew nightmares. I knew nightmares in and out and more than I'd like to admit. Frankly, they sucked. Frankly, I hated talking about my own. But Annabeth always insisted I should talk about them if I could. She said it'd make me feel lighter. And maybe it did. Sometimes. (Don't tell her I admitted it.) But most of the times, I preferred a distraction. We had a system in place. It was Annabeth's idea of course, being the Wise Girl she is. Whenever I was stressed, anxious or panicked or when I'd had a nightmare, she'd first comfort me from the initial stages of complete panic (Annabeth if you're reading this just know kisses work quite well ;) ). Then she'd let me choose if I wanted to talk about it or if I wanted a distraction. Choosing the latter usually meant opening up later but at least I didn't need to stress in the moment. 

So when Nico was against speaking up (I mean who would have guessed death breath doesn't like speaking) I decided to help him distract. Since he was so concerned about the state of his room, I thought some cleaning would do us good. I loved cleaning. It was something Mom had suggested I do to help with anxiety. When I was a kid, Mom and I would race to complete chores because she wanted me to become responsible and independent. But without any game or race involved, I'd get distracted far too easily. My mom (as the best mom in the world) did all her research and realised ADHD was why chores seemed borderline impossible for me. That's why she made it a game. So, when I started cleaning up my cabin again, it reminded me of the fun with her and put me in a comfort zone. Further, I realised I found a certain comfort in the repetitive tasks that I used to dread. Folding clothes neatly and perfectly took my mind of things as I planned and rearranged different stacks. It was also a very tactile (Note by Annabeth Chase : It used to say touchy. No Percy does not have such good language. I edited it for him) which seemed to help too.

As Nico and I worked, he began to sing Sharpest Lives. It'd been a while since I'd heard the song and I could not for the life of me keep up. But when the main bridge and chorus hit I couldn't help but join in. The lyrics came back to me and I bobbed my head to the song. I had had an emo rock phase. I still had my rock phases but they were more on and off and depending on my overall state of mind. If I wanted to drown my head out rock was a go to. Nico listened to an insane amount of rock - I knew that much. I wondered if he listened to it for the same reasons as me.  When I joined in the singing, Nico looked at me with a look of surprise. He even seemed impressed. When the song finished he finally commented on it. As the conversation proceeded, I was just waiting for the jab at my precious leather boots. I knew it was coming and I won't lie I took offense to that one. Studded leather boots with ankle belts are dam awesome. Fight a wall.

We eventually returned to our duet with 'Disenchanted' which was one of my favourite MCR songs. We reached my favourite part of the song, "You're just a sad song with nothing to say" when Nico's voice cut out, leaving the air rather empty and odd with just my rough voice (Nico was admittedly the better singer.) I turned to him to check on him to see him try to conceal a look pain. The way he leaned a bit forward and side, I'd think he got hurt on his stomach. Or maybe he didn't get hurt. I frowned at the realisation. Oh Nico. He was too innocent, too young, too brave to be suffering like this. Softly, I asked him, "Are you hurt, Neeks?"

I don't know what I said wrong but Nico began to collapse into himself. His breathing became heavy and he seemed to be suffocating. I quickly rushed to him, understanding he was having a panic attack. I'd barely had a few and I remember the crushing weight on my chest and the way the world felt like it was ending. I hated it. And I never realised how terrifying it looked to an outsider. 'Thank you Wise Girl for every time you've been strong while I broke.' I thought to myself. Because seeing Nico break down was incredibly painful. I just kept on muttering reassurances the way Annabeth did. Eventually Nico seemed to have calmed down enough to have a grasp of his surroundings. He tried to stand up and immediately collapsed back down. I sat beside him to give him a more solid support so he doesn't fall over. 

Then he did something I never expected. He leaned into my chest and wept. He wept and wept like a small child and I didn't know what to do. He was still trying to hold back his sobs as he breathed unevenly choking on air and I tried to comfort him by rubbing his back and playing with his hair. The second technique seemed to work better. His hair was long enough for a low man bun and I kept bunching his hair up and twirling it into a bun sort of shape. It felt good in a weird way - to be there for him. It felt good to be someone he depended on. It was like I had a purpose and a worth. And I knew I wanted to help Nico in any way I could. I didn't want my little brother have to break down and cry like this. And if he had to, I never wanted him to be alone again. When he was a bit calmer, he pulled away, laughing a bit at the wet spot his tears had made. I just pulled him into a full hug. We stayed there a minute, basking in the comfort of having another person to hold on to. When we pulled apart, Nico twiddled with his thumb in search for words. In the time I'd known Nico, I had understood he was not fond of emotional rants the way I destressed; he preferred a question and answer that made replying simpler for him. 

"Did you hurt yourself neeks?"

He nodded slowly, ashamed and guilty.

"Is it because of the nightmare?"

Another nod.

"Do you want to talk about it now?"

A long pause. "It was about Tartarus." 

I waited to see if he would talk about it any more but he stayed mum. 

"It's alright kid." He paused to see Nico's reaction to the nickname - Nico just smiled softly. "Tartarus sucks. I don't need to tell you that because you probably know it best. But you should know that Annabeth and I still get nightmares from it. We wake up screaming and crying. We lose sleep over it, Annabeth doesn't eat after particularly bad nightmares and I used to either lock myself in solitude without even Annabeth or I'd hurt myself and walk out with over compensated cheeriness. And it's hard. And you. You went all alone Neeks. You did it all by yourself. And even in the bronze jar, you clung to hope. And you're a fighter, kid. You did it because you are strong. And while we've all established self harm is a nasty coping mechanism don't ever forget it is a coping mechanism. It is you making the choice to get over everything dragging you down and live through every day. You are making the decision to cope, to survive and to live and don't for a second forget how important that is. And you are strong for fighting this battle every day. Self harm, in my opinion, can't be quit. I think it gets replaced. You find another way to take it out. And maybe, the method you'll find isn't 100% healthy but it's healthier. Because in the end, this is all for you. We care because it affects you and we care because we want you to be able to make yourself stronger. Having to admit you hurt yourself should not send your world crashing. Yes, it isn't ideal but it is still proof you are trying. I've probably explained that terribly and confused you more. I swear Annabeth would probably frame it better. But as a person who's maybe two steps ahead in recovery, I think that's what I've learnt from it all. Don't ever forget you're strong."

I wasn't looking at Nico as I spoke. It was a blur of ideas that I vented at the ground hoping Nico would understand. As I turned to see Nico's reaction, I wasn't sure what I expected - he'd probably have zoned out or he'd look confused or bored. Maybe he'd even roll his eyes. But he was looking straight at me, eyes glistening with tears and I wondered if I'd said something so terribly wrong. "Thank you," he whispered taking me by surprise, "I've never seen it that way. And I want to get better. I just don't know where to start. I've depended on self harm for so long it's a crutch I'm afraid to let go of."

I nodded. I knew what that felt like. I was so afraid to let go of self harm. It helped me deal with everything - to put on a bold front. I was afraid that without it, I'd collapse. But I didn't. I didn't collapse. I stumbled, I tripped, I even fell but it wasn't as scary as I feared because there were so many people who wanted to help me get back up. 

"Can I see your wounds Nico?" I asked. "I want to ensure they don't require stitches or have immense blood loss."

Nico paused as though picking his words carefully, "I don't think you should see them. Like, if you want we can visit Will. But I swear they aren't a concern really."

I swear, this boy. Even now he was more worried I'd get trigerred than he was worried about his own welfare. "Alright, then off we go to find Will."