*awkwardly waves hello*

I'm new here...well, sort of.

Not going to lie, but I fell out of this fandom for a LONG time, but I've recently jumped back in full force because of the power of shipping and I've been reading a shit ton of fanfiction on here and I just decided I'd might as well write some too, since I've been writing on here for a few months but for other fandoms with some pretty good success rates.

So I thought I'd do this, since I haven't seen all that many stories like it

Just a little rundown on this story...

1)Eventual Percy/Nico in case you didn't catch it in the description. Technically Percy/Annabeth right now but no Annabeth bashing later on in the story, so Percabeth shippers need not worry that this'll turn into one of those cheating stories because I still ship Percabeth too

2)Annabeth was never in Tartarus. It just works better with what I have in mind, so bear with me

Well...I think that's all I have to say for now. I honestly hope you enjoy because I really liked writing this and I hope it goes over well :)

Rated T for later themes and language

(Nico's POV)

The first few days after the war ended were filled with mourning, as expected.

Many great demigods had died, but thankfully the seven of the prophecy remained in varying degrees of wellness. We were still together though, and still mostly sane. I don't know if I would have been able to take losing any more important people, I had so few left.

I was lucky, as ridiculous as that sounded.

I guess that was something to be happy about, and it's not as though I'd ever really know those who'd died in the fighting anyway. And, being the son of Hades, death has never really bothered me in the first place.

But the next few days had been reserved for celebration. For parties and duels and chariot races at both camps, celebrating the end of the war and Gaea's deep sleep (which would hopefully last a long, long time).

I was just happy that we'd all made it though another goddamn war without too much damage, that I still had my sister and that my sister still had Frank. That Jason still had Piper, and that Percy still had Annabeth...well, sort of.

Percy was the problem, really, the outlier in this nearly perfect post-war little world of ours. It was more than worrying. Honestly, it was terrifying, even to me. And I'd seen plenty of terrifying things, some so recently.

Something about the war had broken him, broken him down to the point where he was almost unrecognizable. He wasn't Percy Jackson anymore, the strong, confident hero who'd saved the world so many times that he'd been offered godhood.

That Percy Jackson was gone, long gone.

That scared me a whole lot, even if I didn't scare easily.

Percy was nothing but a husk now, but only because he could now afford to be. Golden tan skin now ashy and pale, his eyes dull and ringed in dark half-moons. Thin body, once made of lean muscles was wasting away, weakened by exhaustion and starvation. He couldn't remember to eat unless he was forced, and sleep seemed out of the question.

As ironic as it sounded, Percy Jackson was drowning in his own personal ocean, unable to break the surface for more than a few seconds before being pulled under again by the rough riptide of gruesome memories.

A lot of people would probably wonder why it all seemed to be affecting him so much. He'd been through war before and come out fine on the other side. He'd seen horrible things and lost so many important people, friends so close they seemed like family.

What was so different?

The answer was Tartarus, obviously. It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

The infernal pit is what had broken him. Not the fighting. Not the newly acquired scars that marred his skin. Not the multitude of shrouds hastily made and just as hastily burned, not the funerals or the campers and friends lost on both sides.

No, as a demigod, Percy was used to those things. He'd gone through them all and made peace with it.

It was Tartarus that had killed the old Percy. It was a horrible cesspool that no demigod should even have to see, let alone traverse. It was something people didn't survive once, let alone twice like myself.

The pit had spit back out a fragile, broken boy that was expected to get right back up and be a leader again, to be the same person he'd been before he'd fallen. The seven had given him a few days to rest, and they'd given me the same, but it wasn't enough, not by a long shot. Especially when each night was filled with violent nightmares. After those few days though, it was back to work. Back to fighting and strategizing and bickering. And they'd all just expected Percy to be fine because he had to be.

They didn't understand what it was like down there, and I honestly hoped they never would. They were good people, after all. I wouldn't wish that fate on anybody, not even my worst enemy.

They tried to understand. They'd given Percy as long as they possibly could to get better. They tried to ignore Percy's agonizing, nightmarish screams that'd interrupted their sleeping. They tried to treat him the same even though they couldn't help but stare at their broken leader, absolutely terrified.

I think Annabeth tried the most. She tried to be there for the boy she loved. She stayed up with him during the night and tried to wake him when his screams pierced the silence of the slumbering Argo II. She spent nearly every hour of every day with him, trying to comfort him, trying to chase the nightmares away.

And for a while, Percy had pretended to be okay. He'd taken those few days to rest as much as he could and jumped right back in, working himself to the bone to make sure everything went according to plan. He'd played the part of the soldier, the leader, doing whatever was necessary and sacrificing his health and sanity for the lives of everyone else. He didn't want them to be afraid that he would fall apart in the middle of the battle.

But now things were different.

He didn't have to be strong anymore. People weren't relying on him so he didn't have to keep it together.

He could stop fighting, he could give up and let go.

It hurt me a lot to see him like that.

I mean, I loved him. I really did.

When I was little he'd always been this shining hero in my mind, a real life representation of the silly card game I'd obsessed over.

I'd spent so long mad at him, but now I finally understood that as much as I was angry at him I was angry at myself and scared of my growing feelings.

And I guess that's why it hurt me so much. Why it scared me.

I wasn't just seeing a friend struggle and drown. I was seeing the only person I truly loved in the world fade right in front of me, seeing the strongest person I'd ever met so destroyed. I really didn't want to let that happen. I wanted to be able to fix him, if that were even possible.

That's why I was wandering right now, that's why I'd left the party so soon even though it was still in full swing.

Percy had disappeared a little while ago, and nobody, not even Annabeth, seemed to know where he was.

But I knew exactly where to look. I knew where he'd be.

It was dark out, the light of the bonfires fading as I walked further out, towards the ocean. I could see just fine though, whether that was a natural gift of mine or just something gained from all the time spent in the shadows I wasn't sure.

Soon, my feet made the transfer from the wooded trail to the sand. I was on the beach, and my eyes scanned the shore, looking for Percy.

Needless to say, I found him exactly where I though he would be.

I walked over silently, footsteps muffled by the thick sand. I don't think he even noticed I was there.

As I got closer, I started seeing him more clearly, his rapidly thinning body illuminated by the faint, bronzy glow of his uncapped sword which was nestled in the sand next to him providing the only speck of light in the overwhelming darkness. His back was pushed up against a rising dune, his arms hugging around his knees as he stared out into the shadows. A stray piece of driftwood snapped under my foot though, and his head immediately shot up, hand flying to Riptide (his battle reflexes and paranoia at its worst, thanks to Tartarus) as he squinted into the murky darkness.

I stepped quickly into the little circle of light, holding up my hands in submission, "Just me, Perce."

Face softening only slightly, he dropped the sword to side once more, only silence and a fleeting glance in my direction following.

"Uh, mind if I sit with you?" I asked uncertainly.

I got a shrug this time around.

Taking that as a yes, I sat down in the sand next to him, not caring that it'd be hell to get off my clothes.

A few minutes passed in silence, and I couldn't help but stare at him. He didn't even seem to notice. The faint light coming from his sword painted his skin in an almost golden light, reminiscent of how he'd been before all this shit, the only difference being the heavy shadows cast on his face, sharpening the newly razored edges.

The eyes were the worst part though. They were so unlike him.

I'd always noticed that demigods seemed to have unparalleled eyes, passed down to them by the gods. Thalia and Jason had their electric blues and all the Athena children had the same stormy, roiling grays and Piper (along with many other Aphrodite children) had her super-weird kaleidoscope eyes that were never the same color no matter how many times you saw her. My eyes were nothing special though, so I think it might just be envy.

But Percy's had always been my favorite.

They were the precise color of the ocean, and like the ocean, they were constantly shifting and changing.

Most of the time they'd be this shade of sparkling sea green only replicated in the color of tropical oceans (as opposed to the more familiar polluted New York rivers). They'd glimmer without fail in the sun and sometimes it almost seemed like they were flecked with gold. They were gorgeous and he could melt you with one simple look. It was probably one of the only things that could make me smile.

Those gorgeous eyes could be absolutely terrifying though. In the midst of a battle they had this cruel steeliness to them, an almost feral look that, combined with the stray frenzied laugh that escaped his lips, would be enough the scare anyone away. It wouldn't surprise me if there were campers that were scared of him, as nice as he could be. Especially the Romans and the newer Greeks, who didn't know him all that well. All they knew was that he was a force to be reckoned with when he had his sword in hand, able to batter the Ares cabin quite easily even without using his powers. He'd even bested me every time we'd spared, and I'd learned from the very best (well, the very best ghosts in my defense). It was just another reason I loved him, his undeniable strength.

But he was none of this now. His eyes were blank and haunting and sad, these impressions only increased by the dark circles so permanently affixed there. They weren't sparkling like the water in the sunlight, and weren't even a terrifying hurricane which I'd take in a heartbeat. They matched the sea as it was right now. Flat and black with darkness.

"I thought you'd be gone by now," Percy practically whispered, breaking the silence and shocking me.

My brow furrowed, "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged again, "I dunno. You've just never stayed at camp this long before. I thought you'd be back in the Underworld by now...doing whatever it is you do down there."

"Why's it so weird that I'm staying?" I questioned, staring side-long at him once again.

"Cuz you're Nico di Angelo, the ultimate loner. You don't care about anyone."

My mouth tightened and my shoulder stiffened. How could he think that? After all this?

But I do care, more than you can ever know, the little voice inside me said. But then again, caring wasn't an advantage in the end.

I thought maybe having the shared experience in Tartarus might have changed things between us. No such luck.

He seemed to pick up on change in demeanor right away though.

"I'm sorry...if I said something wrong," he began, wringing his hands nervously.

I sighed and shook my head, "No, it's fine. But I do care Percy, about you and about everyone else."

I got up and started to walk away, brushing the sand off my usual black clothes as I went.

"Nico...please come back. I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean it...I just, I wasn't thinking..." Percy practically pleaded, rising from his sitting position and trying to follow me.

"Save it," I bristled, calling over my shoulder before I allowed the shadows to envelop me and take me somewhere else, "And it's not like I want to be alone, for your information."

Sometimes I don't even know why I bother with this.

Like I said before, I really enjoyed writing because I love sad things and Nico a lot, so I hope you guys enjoyed reading it :)

If I get enough interest, I'll keep going with this, so please drop me a review and tell me what you think and I'll continue

And a special thanks to RainyDays-and-DayDreams for looking this over for me