I'm evil, you'll see ;)

Unknown POV:

I watch Nico sadly. I wish I could help him, so something, anything. I wish he knew it wasn't his fault. I wish he'd just look at everything the way it is, instead of just blaming himself for everything.

He's been through so much in the past few years and I reach out to hug him, before remembering I don't have a physical form. I can't hug him. Or touch him at all. I can't push his bangs out of his eyes or wipe away his tears. I can't even talk to him directly. Dreams are the best I can do.

I wish I could convince dad to let me go up just once in a physical form. To see him once more, tell him the facts, heal his wounds. But I can't. These past few years, I've been asking him practically non-stop and it's a miracle he let me come up at all, even being entirely invisible like I am now. I can speak and move all I want, but nothing I do will affect the living.

The door opens to Nico's room and I watch, a smirk growing across my face. In enters Will Solace and Jason Grace. Nico was so totally checking out the former as he entered. I couldn't help but fangirl, the two were made for each other. Sure I grew up being taught gays were bad and stuff like that, but as long as my brother's happy, I'm happy.

Will's sky blue eyes meet Nico's chocolatey brown ones and I watch as they get lost in each other's eyes.

I smile, silently pleading that they'll kiss. I mean they have the perfect opportunity an they were made for each other. I swear if they don't kiss, I'll shove the two together and make them kiss ... or I would if I could actually touch them instead of passing right through them. I feel like Harry Potter when he was observing memories. Except i can't just wait for the memory to end and leave, no I'm stuck here until my precious baby brother joins me in death, which I really hope will be many, many, many, many years from now, when he's 83 and dies of old age.

Of course I know how unlikely it is for him to survive that long, being a demigod and constantly hunted by killer monsters and all, but one can still hope right?

I've watched this young boy grow up his whole life. I was there when he was first born, when he first learned to talk, to walk. I was there for his first day of school and when he got into Mythomagic.

I was there through his highs and his lows. I've known every second how amazingly perfect this kid is.

I've always known he'd eventually grow up. Grow out of his card games and accept the real world. But I never thought it'd be under the circumstances it was.

From the moment of my death, I've been watching Nico Di Angelo. I've felt guilty i had to leave him, but I was called home without him.

I heard him confess himself to me. Explain that he was gay and he knew it was wrong and that he hated himself. He said he didn't expect me to actually hear him, but I did. I heard every word he spoke. I tried to reach out to him, comfort him, let him know I was there, but I couldn't. I blew him an air kiss, tears forming in my eyes.

That was a particularly emotional day and I remember it like it was yesterday. Probably because of all the emotion behind it.

Nico POV:

I stare down at my bandaged wrists, wondering why I cut my wrists. Why do I cut in horizontal lines? Why not vertical? Vertical works better anyway. There has to be some subconscious reason I always cut for more pain than damage.

Maybe I'm scared? Am I scared to die? No, I don't think so. I mean I'm the child of death so, next. Maybe there's someone I want to see one last time. No. Everybody hates me and I hate all of them. Except. Except three people-well three living people. Jason Grace. Percy Jackson. And Will Solace.

Nico's has dropped as he realized the real reason why he never cut vertically. Because he wanted to at least kiss Will once before he died. He wanted to feel a small sliver of happiness. Wanted to make sure he was as gay as possible before death since his sister would probably hate him once he died. A) for being gay and B) for dying in the first place.

Suddenly, Nico felt an urge. A strong urge. But, likely not the kind you're thinking. It was most definitely not an urge to kiss Will, nor was it anything of the sort. It was a grim urge that brings tears to my eyes.

It was an urge to take the blade up again. Tear off the bandages on his arms. And to cut. Slice his his arms along the vein. Cutting feel enough for blood to come spurting out. For him die of blood loss within ten minutes of the wound.

He wanted this. No, scratch that. He needed this. Way more than he needed anything else, like his sister or Will or oxygen. He needed this cut. He knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to kiss Will or date him or anything. But he was willing to give that up to punish himself for everything he's done. His dirty thoughts. His gayness. His scaryness towards others. For being such a fucking faggot. (I apologize for the word of choice, but this is depressed Nico, not fucked up Octavian so I hope we can let this slide since he's directing it toward himself .. maybe not though. Idk)

Nico needed to be punished. He stood up, standing shakily. Not because he was scared, but because it'd been so long since he'd had to hold his own body weight. His legs wobbled slightly as he pulled the IV needle out of his wrist and started tearing off the bandages.

He took a couple steps toward the bathroom door, before he heard footsteps nearing him. Shit. But he kept going, moving as fast as possible without tripping and falling. He quickly opened and closed the bathroom door, just as the bedroom door was opened. He locked the door behind him before searching for it. For anything. Anything sharp enough to cut his veins open. Then he found it. A razor blade. Kept there for shaving he guessed.

It definitely wasn't there for this purpose. Unless...

Unless Will wanted this to happen, which wasn't unlikely-in Nico's mind at least. Maybe Will hates Nico and left the blade there in the hopes that Nico would find it and kill himself.

Nico almost started crying at the thought and how real it seemed. He picked up the blade, lining it up with his biggest vein before-

Knock. Knock.

Someone was knocking on the bathroom door. "One minute!" Nico yelled, hoping whoever it was thought he was using the toilet, not ending his life.

He pressed the blade down on his skin, hard. As hard as he could. Drops of blood started bubbling out and he smiled, dragging the blade parallel to his bones, hoping his life wouldn't last much longer.

When he'd reached his elbow on his left arm, Nico switched the blade to his left arm and repeating his earlier motions.

The last thing Nico saw was the door being kicked down and two figures standing before him, hovering over his small frame.

I know I know. I'm horrible. #SorryNotSorry