Solangelo 1

Part 14

NICO

The rain clears up relatively quickly. I sit on the bench in the porch of my ruined cabin - the only bit still standing.
People walk by, curiously looking at the mess I've made, but not asking any questions.
I sit upside down, my legs over the back of the bench, my head hanging off the edge. I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation of the blood rushing to my head.
'So you didn't like the decor, or...?' I open my eyes to see Will, upside down, watching me. He smiles slightly and I quickly spin round, the right way up. I go lightheaded and stumble but he catches me, 'Hold on, there you go.' He says as he helps me balance and sits me on the bench.
'Sorry.' I say, 'you made me jump.'
'So?' He prompts, 'what's the story? You anger a God or something?'
'I didn't like it.' I say, turning to look at the wreckage behind me, 'it was built when people didn't think there would be any children of Hades. It was dark and depressing. So I wrecked it.'
'And I fully support you.' He says, to my surprise, 'I did not like that cabin.'
'It was actually seeing the Apollo cabin that got me to do it. It was just so much more...alive. But I guess that's not really my theme.' I say, frustrated. I lie down on the bench, exhausted.
'Screw the theme. You're the only one in the cabin. Do what you want with it.' He says, 'but until then, where are you going to sleep?'
'I don't sleep much anyway. I haven't slept since that night in your cabin.' I say.
'That was over two days ago?' He says, surprised, 'and you're meant to be doing another burial right tonight?'
'I'm fine. I'll be fine.' I say, quickly.
'No, it's not safe. I'll tell them it's pushed to tomorrow.' He says.
'No, don't. I promise I'll be fine. I'll sleep. I can't back out now.' I say, sitting up and pleading with him.
'You'll sleep?' He asks, and I know he'll hold me to it.
'I...I'll try.' I reply. I'm already starting to panic, just thinking about going to bed. Letting my subconscious take over.
'Come on. You can sleep in my cabin. My siblings are all doing music and archery teaching today. It should be empty.' He holds out his hand and pulls me up. He holds on a little longer than necessary.
We walk to his cabin and he opens the door for me. It's weird being in his cabin, alone. I feel as though I shouldn't be here.
'Where...' I trail off, looking around.
'Take my bunk again.' He says, sitting me down on his mattress; his sheet still in a ball at the bottom of his bed. I see a picture of Will beside a beautiful blonde woman who I assume to be his mother. There's another picture with him and two younger girls.
'Your sisters?' I ask, pointing to the girls.
'Half sisters. But yeah.' He says, 'Molly and Alison. I haven't seen them in a long time.'
I look up at him, not wanting to ask questions if he doesn't want me to.
'My mum moved to England. I convinced her to, after Manhattan. It's far safer for her out there. The girls would be far safer.' He says. I look back at the photo. I wonder what it'd be like if Bianca were still alive, but still a part of Artemis' hunters. I wouldn't see her for years at a time.
'That must suck.' I say. He shrugs.
'It was the best move.' He says, 'besides, it's not such a bad thing staying here all year round.'
'No, I guess not.' I say.
'Alright. You need to sleep.' He says, standing up, 'I'll make sure no one comes in. And I'll check on you in an hour or so.'
'Yeah.' I say, adjusting the pillows and pulling the blankets up, 'thanks.'
'Okay. Sweet dreams and all that.' He says, before leaving the cabin. I close my eyes and everything comes flooding back in an instant.
I pull my knees in, duck my head. The box surrounds me. The bitter taste of pomegranate seeds fill my mouth. Hours seem to pass.
The backs crack open and I'm dropped in the middle of the floor, shattered glass covering every surface for miles. Tartarus.
I close my eyes and mutter to myself. I know I'm not here. I'm not here. I'm not.
But then Misery comes. She's the worst. Of all the things I went through, physical or mental, Misery is the one I think about the most.
I couldn't fight her. There was nothing to win. She just followed me and wallowed in me, bringing my worst memories to life. She showed me my mother's death, then my sister's. Over and over I relived the worst moments of my life.
She reduces me to my knees. I bring my hands to my eyes, starting to sob. There's a certain clarity that comes with my complete surrender to sobbing, but it's broken as I'm shaken awake.
Panic fills my body and I look around, confused. A hand on my arm. Will. He looks mortified, staring at me as I realise I'm still sobbing.
He pulls me in closely and I sob into his shoulder. He strokes the back of my head and I stay like that for a long time.
He speaks reassuringly to me, and it takes him about an hour to calm me down. I pull away, embarrassed, but he still holds onto my hand.
'Sorry.' I say, my voice hoarse.
'No, Gods no, Nico. It's fine. Don't apologise.' He says, he pushes the hair out of my eyes. I'm beginning to see a habit of it growing.
'How long was I asleep?' I ask, expecting it to be another three days or so.
'An hour? Maybe forty-five minutes?' Will says, 'I didn't realise, I'm sorry.'
'For what?' I ask, he didn't do anything.
'Making you sleep.' He says, 'I'll figure something else out. I'll look through my books to see if there's...a sleeping draft or something. I'll sort something out.'
'I'm fine.' I say, used to dismissing any help.
'You don't need to be fine all the time.' Will says, 'it'd be boring otherwise.'
'I could do with a bit of boring.' I say. I feel more tired than when I first went to sleep. I lean my forehead against Will's chest and he places one hand on the back of my head.
'We'll sort it out.' He says, 'I promise you.'
'Grazie, sole.' I say, without thinking about it, 'I mean thank you. Sorry.'
'No, it's fine. I like the Italian.' He says, 'I wish I could speak another language.'
'I can teach you.' I say, 'it'd be nice to speak to someone in Italian again.'
'I'd like that.' He says, 'gives us another reason to hang out.'
'That's true.' I say, looking up at him and smiling, 'besides, languages aren't too different to music. You just need to understand the basics.'
'Alright, Di Angelo, teach me your language.' He says, laughing.
'You're on.' I reply. I try to stay casual, but even the idea of speaking to someone in Italian again fills me with such joy.