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A/N WOW so my stories are sometimes hard to "decode" or understand what im actually saying, so this chapter is in Nico's POV because Jason and Percy are just confusing af. Also, this kinda explains everything. 

should I change the cover of this story?

and yes, I just updated this story the next day. I'm so proud of myself. 


It was a Sunday.

He remembered the day very clearly. It was a bleak Sunday, and the rain started pouring down all of a sudden. 

Typical English weather. 

He had been wondering why Percy was acting so strange lately. People always described him as distant and sad, and just a lonely kid. They had tried to get him to talk about what had happened, about his different foster homes, but he would just smile sadly, or ice everyone out. 

It killed him inside to hear that. 

Percy was like that with him, in the start. He was barely 5''3, and Nico loved seeing him in his giant sweatshirts and "emo" clothing and ways as if that made him look more intimidating. Nico was floored the first time he saw the boy, and he remembered his mouth going dry, and wondering, how can this be what she was talking about? 

She being his mother, of course.

Then he had heard him talk. 

There was something off about his voice. You could almost hear the insecurity coming out from him. He had a sad aura, and it was affecting people, but not Nico. He had his own aura, a joyful one, and he was determined to make Percy feel it too. 

They became closer over a long period of time, in which Nico did little things to try and make Percy happier and more secure in himself. He thought he was doing well, and as far as he knew, he was. One day, Percy pulled out a small, but thick, black notebook, which was clearly worn down and his hands were shaking as he passed to book over to Nico. 

"It was my mother's and mine. When I was little, and she was still herself." It was short, but enough to get Nico's heart racing in anticipation, and fear as to what he would find inside. 

It was filled with drawings. He could see the date, which went all the way back to when his mother was eleven years old. At first, it was roses. Flowers from people's gardens. It progressed to body parts, when all of a sudden, when his mother was fifteen, there was a boy. He was something special to her, Nico could see that much. Each line was drawn precisely, but it was as if from memory. 

His eyes looked dead. 

He gave a questioning glance to Percy, who just shook his head and said, "Car accident. He died." His heart seemed to stop for a few seconds, and he suddenly found himself scared to look back again. 

The next ones were no better. They were all of boys, who soon progressed into men, in pubs and in houses, but all their eyes looked dead. 

He flipped to the later pages, and saw a drawing of a family. It wasn't as good as the previous ones, but was still done remarkably well, better than Nico could even imagine doing. he looked down at the signature and saw-

a messy, "Percy Jackson, august 12, 2005 (He's born on November 17, 2000)"

He saw more and more of his drawings, each one better than the last, until he saw exactly what he was dreading. 

A woman. 

She was once beautiful, with long hair once luscious, but she sat on a bench in a park, staring at nothing in general. Her eyes were filled with wonder, and he was filled with relief. 

"There were more people, and as he was about to ask where it ended, his voice died in his throat. He could see people from their school, all with something off about all of them. They seemed more raw, and seemed more open, and he could see the little things that were normally hidden. 

" I solved them. I solved them all, and I figured them out." Percy  sounded quietly, scared, almost. A girl named Dreale happened to walk by, and Nico could see all of a sudden. See the way she limped, the way she held herself as if in fake confidence. he flipped all the way to the last drawing and his heart stopped. there were two pages. 

One was labeled, "Jason Grace", and it was empty. The other was a a drawing of a boy with dead eyes. He had a happy aura, and seemed perfectly fine, and the shadow of his mother next to him. 

He saw himself, with dead eyes. 

And he closed the book, placed it on the bench next to him, and walked away. 

He didn't come back for the next two years. 


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