Contemplation (PJ)

Contemplation

The ashes slipped through his pale fingers, falling into the flickering flames of the fire. He shifted on the cold bench, wrapping his jacket tighter against himself. The countryside was really quite cold at night, he had realized on his long escapades to it. Not even a fire could keep him warm for long.

Moving his hands closer to the fire, Nico di Angelo stared into the flames.

He'd been in this part of the countryside for only a few hours before night settled in, fog beginning to gather at the edges of the hills. He'd been lucky enough to find a campsite with a fire pit. A huge stroke of luck.

Shifting again on the bench, he grabbed his pack and looked inside. A few seeds, an apple, a piece of old, moldy bread, and a travel book awaited him. In the side of the pack, hidden underneath a layer of cloth from an old t-shirt, he knew that a small piece of metal was kept. The pocket seemed to mock him, beckoning him to open it up and observe it. To see it again for the first time in weeks.

Grabbing the apple, Nico quickly zipped up the pack and bit into it. It was bruised slightly, but other than that it seemed to be okay. Probably one of the best things he's eaten so far.

The wind rustled his black hair and moved the flames, which began to die out. He poked the fire with a stick.

Brushing some dark bangs out of his equally dark eyes, he took another bite as he leveled his gaze on the countryside. As the hill the campsite was on steepened, it led to a seemingly endless field of green and beige, golden-yellow wheat glowing silver in the moonlight. His breath came in puffs of air, the cold of the night causing the smoke-like oxygen to disperse. He shuffled towards the fire, finishing off the apple and placing the core back in his backpack. He would dispose of it later.

Rubbing his nose, he observed his pack. His hands shook slightly as he placed it on his lap, his teeth beginning to chatter as a particularly cold burst of wind blew around him.

The flames flickered.

Gently, almost as though he was handling a piece of fragile glass, he opened the side pocket. Immediately, a sweet smell hit his face, perfume and a feeling of comfort. Familiar, safe.

Nico had tried his hardest to save that scent.

Carefully, he shifted the cloth around until he felt a piece of hard metal on his fingers. Grasping it, he pulled it out and quickly closed the pocket.

The skull ring glinted in the light of the fire, glowing orange and silver in the moonlight. The grotesque skull was carved intricately, black paint marking the darker spots in the eye holes and the gaunt skeleton.

Holding the ring in his hand, smelling the faint scent of perfume and comfort, his hands started shaking as his brain was assaulted with memories. The scent, his sister. The ring, Camp Half Blood.

Death. Prophecies. Broken Promises. Poseidon.

Nico's grip tightened on the ring, his knuckles turning almost white with pressure. He was shaking like a leaf in the wind (a very accurate description), gritting his teeth.

Percy Jackson and his stupid, beautiful face. It was all his fault. His fault that Nico was here, in the countryside, eating bruised apples and trying not to die. If it hadn't been for him, he would still be at Camp Half-Blood, accepted and loved. Safe.

She would still be alive.

Nico's eyes spilled over with tears, his bangs falling back into his face as the cold wind blew again. The fire dimmed and died out, the ring falling from his grip and onto the ground. It laid there, glinting in the light. A silent watcher to his pain.

Wrapping his arms around himself like a hug, Nico di Angelo cried until dawn came. 

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Oh hey, I'm doing this again. 

I recently got back into the Percy Jackson fandom, and with the love of the story comes a need to write Nico stories. This was a sort of practice to get over my "need to make a character sad so I'll be able to write better things in the future," so here you go. I dunno exactly when this is, but I think it's before he comes back in the "Battle Of the Labyrinth." I haven't read the books in so long, so I'm not 100% on the timeline here, but thankfully I can just google the stuff since I don't have all the books! 

I'm sorry, Nico fans. I promise, if I write any more Percy Jackson I will make him happier. So please don't kill me. 

Feedback will be appreciated! If you have any writing pointers or some comments about the story, they will be noted and used in further works. No flames please, those will be ignored. Hope you all have a nice day!

-DappledPetals