Nico sighed. What was the point? He didn't need any of these people anyways, and nobody needs him.

Nobody was here for him when he caught that terrible flu, yet he still survived. Nobody was around when he was at his lowest point, sobbing and shaking, doing unholy things just to feel whole again.

Ever since the "incident" with Will, things had just gotten worse and worse.

So what's the point?  Everyone knew. His laundry was hung, his bed was made. Things that were none of their business became their business. That's all there is to it.

He didn't help around camp anymore. He slowly stopped coming to the camp fires, then breakfast. Now, the only indication he was still alive besides his occasional visit to the dining pavilion for a small meal and to fill up a couple empty two liters with water was sad guitar music playing through an open window.

His clothing choice had changed too. Normally, he'd have a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt with a design, normally black and white but sometimes it might feature a colour or two. Now, although he still has the same old jeans, he's gone back to wearing jackets.

What had once been subsided came back ten times worse. Monsters were easy to kill. Nobody ever talked about the demons, the ones whispering in your ear at the top of a tall building, the ones that point out that you could kill somebody. Nobody brings up the hell it is to look at yourself in the mirror and hate your reflection. Nobody brings it up, and if you do, the subject quickly gets stale and changed.

And so, here he was, biting his tongue and strumming his guitar.

Will heard. He heard everything the boy who had been a dare from one of his peers but had slowly grew into a crush, then to a lover lost himself in the hurt he had caused.

He swore to himself he would protect him. He promised he would never hurt him.

Percy was pissed when he found out. Annabeth all but had to stop him from killing Will, even if Will had just stood there, whispering he deserved it.

Both boys had bags under their eyes. Will couldn't sleep not knowing if Nico was in trouble with the demons, Nico was kept up by broken hearts and fucked up heads.

Both had bloodshot eyes. Will lost the best thing that had ever happened to him, Nico had lost the boy who not only numbed the demon but had helped him be genuinely _happy_.

Both were losing weight. Will kept running around, forgetting to eat. Nico refused.

Run-ins were awkward, both aware of how they looked, both saw how miserable they were, but neither had the guts to bring it up.

And so, here they were. Both malnourished, sleep-deprived, melancholy souls with bloodshot eyes.

Depressing music and workaholic tendencies became their lives until the end.