Solangelo One Shots

Storytime in the Strawberry Fields

Request for @the_doctor_lies! I'm sorry this took such a long time to fill but honestly it was such a cute request, and I hope you like it!

Will's POV

The warm June sun was shining down on our faces as Nico and I lay back down in the strawberry fields, the green grass curling around our bodies and fat red strawberries hanging in our faces. Nico's head was on my chest, his hand in mine as we stared up at the blue sky with the occasional cloud floating across it, a sense of peace in the air. "This reminds me of Italy," Nico sighed, smiling softly. "It was always so sunny there, always the perfect weather." 

"You're actually, like, eighty, aren't you?" I asked. "I always forget about that." I felt Nico nodding against my shirt, his head moving the orange fabric a tiny bit. 

"Sixty four or so of the years were spent in the lotus hotel and casino, but yeah, I'm eighty. Around there, at least." 

"I always forget that you had a life before this," I mused. "What was it like, anyway?" 

"Italy?" Nico asked. 

"Yeah. You were born there, weren't you?" Again, Nico nodded. Around us I heard a bird chirp, the sound mingling with the happy chatter of campers surrounding us. There were people all around but we were hidden in the leafy greens and strawberries of the fields. It was like a wall, blocking everyone else out from this place we shared together. 

"It was amazing," he sighed. "I was young, around four or five, so no one told me about any of the bad stuff that was happening. I just remember it as this blissful place, filled with happiness and family." When I glanced over at his face I could see that his expression had transformed from the peaceful expression it had been moments ago to one much more thoughtful, although it was still peaceful, but a different kind than before. 

"What do you remember best?" I prompted. 

"The food," Nico said with a grin. "That was one of the best parts, hands down. There was this tiny cannoli place near where we lived and whenever there was a reason to celebrate my mom would take us there." I listened to him talk without interrupting, his quiet voice the most soothing sound I had heard all day. "And in the summers when it was hot, my mom would give Bianca and I money and we would go down to the dock, to this little gelato stand that was only open during the summer. I always wanted to pay but I never got to, because I used to be so short that I couldn't even see over the counter." 

"Some things haven't changed," I laughed. He shot me a death stare and even though I knew that he was joking, I was still expecting zombies to crawl out from underneath the bushes. 

"Do you want me to keep going?" he snapped. I nodded, and I saw his smile shift to a smirk. "We'd go swimming, too, after we ate the gelato. The water was always fresh and cold, and we would barely even go in, but it was still fun. We would just splash around in the waves together until we looked like prunes and then we would walk home with our clothes plastered to us but we didn't really care." He had returned to his wistful state. It seemed like he wasn't really talking to me anymore. It was more like he was talking to himself, doing his best to pull up every single memory from his childhood no matter how faded, desperate to remember. "Some nights we would go outside and there would be music and dancing in the streets and my mom and Bianca and I would go out and dance with them." 

"I can imagine that," I laughed. "Tiny toddler you dancing around in the street." 

"I probably looked ridiculous," Nico chuckled. "I loved it, though. It was one of my favorite things to do. You have no idea how it felt to live there. It was amazing. It was like living in a fairy tale. Every day seemed so perfect. I can still remember the day when I learned how to ride a bike. My mom and Bianca taught me and once I learned, I spent all day racing up and down the hill. It was a tiny black bike, one that was small enough so that my feet could reach the petals. I have no idea how my mom found it but she did, for my fourth birthday. I spent all day on that thing sometimes. It was one of my favorite things in the world." 

"What do you think would have happened?" I asked. "You know, if you had never gone to the lotus, and you had stayed in Italy and your mom and Bianca hadn't died." 

"That's such a weird thought," Nico muttered, shaking his head. "I might be dead if I had stayed in Italy. I'd be eighty. I'd be eighty," he repeated, as if he couldn't possibly fathom the thought.

"You are eighty," I reminded him gently. "It just doesn't feel like you're eighty." 

"It's not the same thing," Nico said. "Think about all of the things I would have lived through, if I had stayed in Italy. I would have lived through the stuff kids learn about in history class. I'm glad I didn't stay in Italy, though." 

"How come?" I asked. 

"If I stayed in Italy, I wouldn't have met you," he responded. "I wouldn't have met you, and I wouldn't have been able to help out in any of the fights I helped out in. People could have died if I hadn't been there. People would have died." Neither of us said anything after that for a while. We were both still thinking hard, wondering what our lives would have been like if Nico's path had been altered and things hadn't happened the way they had. I couldn't speak for Nico, but my life would have been so much worse. Without Nico I would most likely still be sitting on my bunk, drooling at a picture of Zac Efron I had kept stashed away underneath my pillow for since age ten to when I started dating Nico. 

"You know, if you like Italy that much, I should take you back some day," I decided after a little while. 

"That's sweet, Will, but how would we pay for it?" Nico asked. "We're two broke demigods, we can't afford to take a trip." 

"You could shadow travel us there," I suggested. 

"I thought you were against that." 

"Well, I normally would be, but if it means that much to you, we should," I said. "It wouldn't have to be expensive." 

"That sounds nice," Nico sighed. "Let's do it." 

There was a rustling to the left of us and Nico and I both looked over to see an angry looking satyr towering over us, hands on hips and glaring. "How many times do I have to tell you, the strawberry fields are not meant for love-making!" he snapped. "If you would like to help us pick the strawberries you may but if you are not I will invite you to leave." 

"Hey, we're leaving!" Nico said, hopping up. He offered me his hand, pulling me up and we walked out of the strawberry fields with the angry satyr shooting daggers into our backs. "It doesn't matter, anyway," he grinned. "I hear Italy calling our names." 

Hi guys, I hope you liked that one!

Nina