Seven Weeks

Some people collect stamps, bottle tops, trading cards. Nico di Angelo collects insults.

To be fair, it isn't as though it's entirely undeserved. He's perfectly aware that he's an unwelcome addition to the community, mostly because he's as antisocial as they come. The Hades cabin is said to be cursed; this is amusing because in his mind, if it has to put up with him, it may as well be.

'Zombie Weirdo', 'Goth Freak', 'Ghost Boy'. Nico's heard them all. He has them all stored in his head, beneath the unruly mop of black hair. No one calls him names to his face, though. That has been a barrier that, as of yet, no one has crossed.

"Hey, Death Breath."

Hold that thought.

He turns around, eyes sparkling with something close to malice. "What did you call me?"

"Death Breath," says Leo Valdez cheerfully. "You know, because your breath stinks. When was the last time you had a mint?"

Leo isn't exactly conventional. He's Hephaestus' kid, so he stays in his underground bunker rather than a cabin, and seems to take sadistic pleasure from irritating Nico.

"Go away, Valdez," Nico says, scowling and folding his arms over his black jacket.

Leo doesn't. This does not surprise him.

"You know, I've been thinking," Leo says, but Nico cuts him off.

"Careful, now, we don't want to have to send you to the infirmary."

Leo grins, and it makes him look like a sprite. "Why do you hole yourself up in that cabin of yours all the time you're at camp? I mean, don't you ever feel the need to go out and get vitamin D or something?"

Vitamin D is in short supply at the moment. It's the beginning of winter, and dark clouds have taken permanent residence in the sky above them. The flowers are beginning to wilt, and the leaves on the trees above their heads are dropping enough leaves to coat the ground in a colourful array of shapes and sizes.

"I don't go outside because I'm trying to avoid you," he says darkly. "This is really not doing anything to refute my hypothesis."

Leo raises his hands mockingly, pretending to cower away from Nico. He's lucky the guy's not actually mad. "Ooh, big words. I'm scared. Come on, let's go do something. I've got a project I'm working on that could use your help."

"If you think I'm going anywhere near your projects, Valdez, you are sorely mistaken."

Leo ignores him, grabs his hand, and drags him off in the direction of the other cabins. Nico tries to pull his wrist from the taller boy's grip, but Leo has a strong hold for someone barely topping 5' 7".

"What do you want?" he demands, actual anger beginning to cloud his words and expression. Normally, this would be enough to freak out whoever was angering him; people have told him that he has manic eyes, eyes that promise to destroy. Leo seems to be immune.

Leo shoots him a surprisingly serious look over his shoulder. "You're too scared to go make friends, so now I'm not giving you a choice."

"I'm what?!"

A group of campers pass them, and Nico shuts up until they pass. All of them are watching Leo dragging Nico off to god knows where, some sniggering, others looking a little bit worried; probably for Leo's hand. If the idiot doesn't let go soon, Nico will not be held responsible for his actions.

A few insults waft over to his ears, and Nico files them away for later use.

"I was wondering," Leo says, and Nico's attention turns back to him. "Do you cross your arms all the time because you're pissed at the world, or because you don't want to accidentally hit someone with your gestures?"

The idea is so ludicrously plausible that Nico bites back a snicker and settles for a smirk. "I think all those fumes are addling with your brain. You should get out more."

"Hello, Kettle," says Leo, leaning to one side. He switches sides and says, "Oh, hi, Pot." Switch. "You're black."

Nico actually laughs, the sight is so ridiculous. Leo looks schizophrenic, but in a wild and hilarious way that hits all the right buttons. Leo looks shocked for a second, and Nico hastily looks away, embarrassed. He can't remember the last time he laughed properly, simply from finding a joke humourous, and he doesn't like it when people bring it up.

Leo, however, recovers quickly and grins widely. "That's the spirit. Oops, I'm sorry."

Nico laughs again, this time a little louder, and it draws the attention of some of the other campers. They chitter in the background, but this time, he doesn't pay attention. "You're on fire, there, Valdez. Oops, I'm sorry."

"I see straight through you."

"Burn."

"Death Breath."

"Hot Head."

"Ha! I knew you were on Team Leo!"

The other Hephaestus kids at Bunker 9 give them a whole variety of odd looks, but Leo doesn't seem to notice. He goes on chattering about this, that and the other, half of which Nico can't understand at all. Something about welding and strip heaters, and then a tangent about Imperial Gold and Celestial Bronze; he asks Nico about Stygian Iron a few times as well, and seems pleased by the responses he gets.

Leo pushes open the door to his workshop, and Nico stops and stares. He isn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. There's stuff everywhere. Bits of metal on the floor, tools on brackets on the walls, designs spread over the desk. It's as if a hurricane of innovation met a tornado of creativity, and this was the result.

"Welcome to Leo World!" Leo declares, spreading his arms out in a grand gesture.

Nico doesn't dare touch anything. If he does, he's quite sure that he's going to break something. "What is this place?"

"Leo World," Leo says, as if it's obvious. It probably is.

"It's much cooler than Nico World," Nico murmurs. He can hear the bitterness in his own voice, and hastily says, "Why did you bring me here?"

"Because you deserve it," the brunette says simply.

Not because he is lonely. Not because Leo pities him. Not because Leo owes him. Because he deserves it, deserves to have a friend.

It feels…nice.

It takes a while. The first week, Leo has to drag him to the bunker every day. Nico waits for the moment that the drachma will drop and Leo will realise that Nico isn't great company, but it never does. So, the second week, Nico follows him, albeit reluctantly. The third week, he walks alongside Leo. The fourth week, he talks with Leo on the stroll over. The fifth week, he walks ahead of Leo, leading the way down into the subterranean cabin. The sixth week, he meets Leo there.

By the seventh week, he is almost a permanent member of the Hephaestus bunker. He flits in and out, spending hours either helping or hindering Leo. He even has a little niche in one corner, where he sits cross legged and plays around with little mechanoids that Leo creates.

It's a little bit ironic, that it happens during the seventh week. Leo is the Seventh Wheel, the outlier in an otherwise even group. Nico isn't even a wheel; he's an outcast that only participates when he wants to. He has no intention of ever being a wheel on anyone's chariot.

They're walking from Bunker 9 to the beach when some idiot kid from the Demeter cabin yells, "Oi, Death Breath! Stop killing our plants!"

Nico is used to this; the Demeter cabin often blames him and his death aura whenever their flowers wilt. He ignores them. The fact that they use Leo's nickname is enough to raise hackles on the back of his neck, though.

"Haha, look, Leo's still hanging out with him," comments someone on the side. "Poor sod. Must've gone insane, locked up all day underground with the weirdo."

It's like a switch is flipped in both Nico and Leo. Nice feels white cold rage wash through him, pure anger and settles beneath his skin like a second skin. Leo isn't smiling or laughing anymore, and his face has gone still.

"What did you say?" Nico asks, his voice cold as the dead. He doesn't move, but his presence amplifies.

The kid looks nervous, as well he should. No one pisses off the son of Hades, and no one insults his friends and gets away with it.

Suddenly, he feels a hand on his chest, pushing him back, and Leo strides forward. Nico can see the flames behind his eyes, and suddenly he feels very, very powerless; it's unsettling, and foreign. There's a cold weight on his chest, and he realises with a jolt that he's a little afraid of Leo.

"You're George, right?" Leo asks, his voice hot and angry. The kid nods. "Well, George, let me tell you something."

George doesn't move, but this doesn't faze Leo. If anything, it makes him even angrier, if the sudden inflammation of his hair is anything to go by.

"If you ever say anything like that about Nico or me ever again, I will personally make sure that you are humiliated beyond belief. You won't be able to show your face in public again for a month. Your entire cabin will laugh at you. Do you like being laughed at?"

George shakes his head frenetically. Leo smiles wickedly; he looks like an evil fey, out to wreak havoc on the unjust.

"Fantastic. Are we understood?"

A nod.

"Brilliant." Leo raises his voice. "This goes for everyone else, too. We're here to learn how to make something of ourselves, not put other people down."

Nico watches behind a cold mask as the Demeter kids slink away into their cabin, and any bystanders quickly remember that thing they were supposed to be doing. The area is empty in seconds, leaving Leo and Nico staring at each other just a little bit awkwardly as the anger in the air cools down.

"Thanks," Nico says hesitantly. "Not many people would have done that."

Leo shrugs, his rage evaporating instantaneously. "We're bros, man. I wasn't going to leave you out to dry. Plus, they insulted Team Leo. No one does that."

"You know I'm not part of 'Team Leo', right?"

Leo grins wickedly. "Everyone's part of Team Leo. I'm the hottest demigod around."

"Literally or figuratively?" Nico asks, leading the way towards the beach once again.

"Either, or." He waves his hand dismissively. "Even Piper agrees, and she's the queen of that subject. Hazel's on Team Leo, though, which means you are by default, whether you want to be or not."

"She is?"

"Oh, yeah, big time. Technically she's on Team Valdez, but same thing."

They reach the tree line just in front of the shore, and Nico grabs Leo by his suspenders. He pulls him around into the shade of the trees, then steps back, hands gesticulating randomly as words fail to form on his lips.

"Listen…"

Leo smiles honestly, abandoning the flippant façade, and catches Nico's wrist. "Hey, I get it. We're friends. That's what friends do."

Nico glances at him. "I wouldn't know…"

Leo's eyes tighten a little, but then the smile widens. "Plus, I saw you. You were about to send them straight to Hades. Not that it wouldn't have been awesome, but it's not great for PR, you feel me?"

"I suppose." Nico huffs out a laugh. "Maybe prolonged exposure to me has addled your brains."

"Ah, what would we do without our happy little ray of doom and gloom?" Leo sighs theatrically, pretending to swoon.

"Hot Head."

"Death Breath."

Somehow, it doesn't sound so bad when Leo says it. Maybe he should start collecting something different.

A/N: Rick Riordan, the wonderful, beautiful man he is, owns Percy Jackson.

I just really need Nico and Leo to be bros, okay? I know there's literally no canonical basis. Don't judge me ;_;

Also I'm sorry if they're a bit out of character. I tried to keep Nico's sense of humour darker, but funny and Nico don't always go hand in hand.

- Bronwyn