You stay in your cabin rather than go to breakfast with everyone else. You've hardly eaten a thing since that day, and today you have even more reason not to. It's late in August, and blistering hot. People are bound to ask what you're doing in a big hoodie. And Chiron's suggested that you take a break from everyday activities. He probably thinks you need some time to recover.

As if that'll ever happen.

Your wrists tingle. The cuts are irritated. You raise your arms and let the sleeves of the hoodie fall back, revealing the bandaged mess from last night.

The voices crowd your mind, and you're overcome with a sudden need for more scarlet paths. You try to fight the urge. Annabeth wants you to be happy.

But cutting makes you happy...

Just then, there's a knock on your door. You freeze, heart pounding. The knocking sounds again, and a familiar voice calls out, "Percy?"

You yank your sleeves down over you hands, throw off your blanket and perch yourself on the edge of the bed. "Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

The door is pushed open, and you blink, startled. It's Nico di Angelo. You tug nervously on your sleeves. He studies you, a little breeze ruffling his unruly black hair. He must've just arrived from Camp Jupiter. You remember something about him visiting Hazel.

You can't help but remember that you were supposed to be living at the Roman camp. With Annabeth.

"Hi," says Nico.

"Hi."

"Are you gonna eat?"

"Maybe."

"Come on, you can't starve yourself," he protests.

You don't reply, choosing instead to take a particular interest in your knees. There's a moment of silence, then the springs in your bed bounce slightly, announcing that Nico has sat down beside you.

"Percy," he says, his voice surprisingly gentle. You look up, wondering what on earth was possessing the son of Hades to act so out of character.

"Why are you wearing a sweater?" Nico inquires, and you detect a certain amount of forced offhand casualness in his tone. Oh crap.

"I'm cold," you mutter.

"Oh, yeah?" Nico raises an eyebrow, and you can tell he knows you're hiding something. "Do you have a fever?"

"Why does it matter to you?" You shoot back, your tone a little harsher than perhaps necessary. A hurt look flashes across Nico's midnight black eyes. You immediately feel guilty.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," Nico says quietly after a moment.

You return to the intense study of Your Knees, not trusting your voice. You can feel Nico's cold, guarded gaze boring into you. Seeing right into your soul and deciphering all its material. You shift nervously, wrists itching like crazy.

"I mean it, Jackson," Nico says, with the air of someone producing the last shot in his locker, "Come on. You have to eat something."

You shake your head, still occupied with Your Knees.

"Fine," Nico sighs, his voice once again full of that uncharacteristic gentleness. He pauses, like he's not sure how to phrase what he's about to say. Then, "Percy, I... I tried to talk to Annabeth."

This news startles you so much you look up from Your Knees, meeting Nico's gaze. "And...?" You whisper, hardly daring to believe.

"I'm sorry, Percy," Nico says, giving you a pitying look. "She - I think she chose to be reborn."

You just stare back at him, uncomprehending, because it can't be true, it can't be, Annabeth wouldn't just leave you like that...

"I'm sorry," Nico repeats. "I tried a whole bunch of times, but I can't feel her. I just kind of know she's been reborn. Like when Bianca... you know."

You barely register what he's saying. You realize you're trembling uncontrollably. Dropping your elbows onto your knees, you hunch over and bury your face in your hands. Reborn. She's been reborn as something else. And now there's no way to deny it to yourself anymore. You're never going to see Annabeth Chase again. Not now. Not ever. Not even when you die.

All of a sudden, you feel a tentative hand on your back and you tense, confused. You thought Nico was a supporter of the Anti-Touch Movement. But he starts rubbing comforting circles on your back, and you find you really don't care about how out of character he's behaving. There's something so inexplicably comforting about his presence, his touch. Almost like... almost like having her with you.

Nico puts his arm around your shoulders. You barely register how un-Nico di Angelo the action is. You don't care. You sit up and lean into him, seeking comfort, and he wraps both arms around you protectively. For some reason, Nico makes you feel safe, secure. He makes you want to throw away the little knife. He makes you feel... happy.

Happy. You'd almost forgotten what the word means.

But then you remember Bianca. Why is Nico even here? He should hate you. You thought he hated you.

"Nico, I'm so sorry about Bianca," you whisper, slipping out of his arms. "That was my fault, too. I - "

"Percy!" He interrupts. "That wasn't your fault. Nobody blames you for anything. You need to stop blaming yourself."

"I can't," you whisper. "It was my fault. All of it."

"Now you listen to me, Perseus Jackson," Nico orders, sitting back and holding you at arm's length, a determined glint in his eyes. You're startled by the ferocity of his gaze. "I don't want to hear you say anything like that ever again. Nothing was your fault. Nothing, understand?"

You're startled, and you just stare back at him. He holds your gaze, like he's expecting an answer. But you can't answer, can't tell him what he wants to hear. That would be lying.

So you don't even acknowledge what he said. You resume the study of Your Knees.

Nico relaxes his grip on your shoulders and lets out a long breath. "Percy, please," he says. "Come eat something."

You looks up, and he's pleading with those big black eyes. You try to refuse. But you can't.

And so you leave your cabin in the company of Nico di Angelo and go to breakfast for the first time in days.

And you've completely forgotten about the cuts.

=

A/N: there will be fluff... *cue the dramatic music*

Lots of OOCness ik. If you don't like that then why are even reading this?!

Lol ily. Comment and vote.