Mourn.
November 7, 1940
Nico couldn’t sleep. He never had a problem with insomnia before, and if he ever had a rare sleepless night, he’d crawl into Bianca’s bed and fall asleep next to her. Father said that a man shouldn’t do such things. He’d stopped when he was told that, but as he lay tossing and turning, he seriously considered crossing the hall to Bianca’s room one more time.
His entire family was on edge. In fact, the entire village was. Venice was only a day or two’s voyage away from their settlement, and with the Germans already making themselves cozy in big cities, it wouldn’t be farfetched to believe their stations here would turn into homes.
The day they arrived, clad in gray uniforms, they’d walked into the village like they owned the place. They’d yelled in an unfamiliar language and ordered people around. A scarce few of them spoke English. Nico pretended he only spoke his native language.
He was scared. He never admitted it to anyone, but he was absolutely terrified. He knew their country was allied with the Germans, but he didn’t like them one little bit. If they were supposed to be friendly, why did they invade their towns and scream and yell at them in their intimidating language?
He pushed his face into the pillow and pulled the blankets up around his head. His mind was racing, he couldn’t even fathom falling asleep. He groaned, pushing the sheets off him and standing up. Maybe a glass of water would calm him. That’s what his mother told him.
He crept out of his room, avoiding the single creaky floorboard, and started down the hall. He was about to turn into their kitchen when he heard a voice come from the dining room. He furrowed his brow and peered into the adjoining room.
There was a gathering of people surrounding his kitchen table. He listened in. He hadn’t the faintest idea why there would be so many people in his home. His parents were social, yes, but it was a workday and didn’t the villagers need to be rested up? And why of all times so late?
“-assumed unrightly so. It’s cruel of us to think that.” That was his father, he knew.
“Cruel? We have right to be cruel. We have murderers right outside our village, Leonardo! We can’t allow these Germans to come in here and take what they wish!” This was a feminine voice he did not recognize. But, at her outburst, there was a cheer of support.
There was a hushing noise and then, “We cannot go in with guns firing and no plan. I’m sure the lot of you know this..” The voice trailed off. Nico sucked in a breath when he realized the speaker had a German accent, “We have quite the arsenal ourselves, and I cannot damage it without high suspicion that will hurt our movement in the long run.”
“Yeah, we get it, Kraut.” A voice sneered, and there was an indignant cry.
“You wouldn’t know how to do a single thing without Luke!” This voice was less strongly Germanic but had a cold, crisp quality to it.
“Ah, look, there goes his mutt…” A rusty male voice said, and there was a collective laugh.
“Don’t call her a bitch,” growled the male German voice, “I’m putting my life on the lines, do you not see? I could very well be executed for this.”
Another voice spoke up. Nico recognized this as his mother. “A fight is the last thing we need now. Luke, Thalia- Please. That goes for you too,
Felipe. And Adalina, don’t act innocent. We mustn’t fight amongst ourselves. We are supposed to be opposing the Nazis, not our people.”
There was a group-wide mumble and nod.
“Now then,” Nico’s father began again, “I hope you bring us good news this time around?”
“The Americans are planning an airstrike.” The German man explained, “I have one of my men on the inside, but he very well may be found out. He’s well aware of this risk.”
Nico rested his head against the wall, closing his eyes. His parents were respectable people. They couldn’t be thinking about doing something like this, right?
“And this man will be doing…?” His father prompted.
“He’s part of the Nazi Party as well. He’s been spilling data to the Americans for months now, and he’s finally gotten enough for them to formulate a foolproof attack.” Luke elaborated.
“What will be our role in this?” asked a woman. Elle. He recognized the sweet lady from the market immediately. How many other familiar faces stood in his home tonight?
“Once the American missiles strike, I believe it would be best for us all to invade and attack them when they are in a weakened state. Sound good?”
“And your pretty little eyecandy here?”
There was a slapping sound and a pained wail.
“Thalia!” his mother cried, “You can’t hit your people!”
“He insulted me.” Thalia replied simply, “I don’t let people do that to me.”
“I thought Austrian women were supposed to be classy and reserved, not outspoken whores.” The woman, Adaline, scorned.
“Don’t you dare call me that,” Thalia said with a silent kind of anger.
“Thalia,” It was the German man, Luke, “Please.”
There was a sigh. Someone cleared their throat. “Now then, Leonardo, did you want to elaborate on your idea?”
“Yes,” his father said. Nico was freezing even though the night was warm. Goosebumps popped up along both his arms. He didn’t understand. “As soon as the Americans set the flames, we’ll add fuel to the fire. Our attack would be easily defendable, the Germans are very capable people. That’s why I’ve been allying myself with some other Westerners who are willing to provide us with bigger ammo to attack. Explosives are definitely a winning force here…”
His father trailed off. There was a silence. Nico couldn’t quite wrap his mind around what his father was proposing. Were they going to bomb the Germans? That would surely be illegal!
“You want us to bomb them?” Luke asked, “We’d need someone willing to plant the bomb. You cannot throw them and run like you can with grenades. They likely wouldn’t have time to escape.”
“I’ll do it.” Nico’s brain nearly short-circuited at the voice. It was Bianca. “I’ll do it, Father, I’ll plant the bomb.”
“No.” was his mother’s immediate response, “No, Bianca, we can’t let you do that.”
“I’d do anything for Italy.” His sister said proudly, “Including this. I’m not of use for much else, but-,”
“Bianca, you’re much too young.” His father’s voice was harsh, “You’re only a girl, you’re still my little girl, and we need you to protect Nico.”
His sister huffed. Bianca was a stubborn girl, he knew, but she wasn’t stupid. She couldn’t really want to risk death, would she? He clenched his fists and took a deep, shuddering breath. This was too much, much too much. He made his way back to his bed. He needed to sleep.
June 16, 1942
It hurt. Everything hurt and ached and Nico didn’t know how to handle grief or loss or anything.
He started listening into the Resistance meetings every other night and began to pick up on stuff. As soon as Luke’s man, Ethaniel, brought back news, there was an attacked planned. A man named Lovino was to bomb the German camp, and the rest were to hang back and see if there were any survivors left to kill. Luke ended up being a traitor, though, and nothing went according to plan. Nico thought it was horribly brutal.
The pilots in the American airstrike team were countered by German forces. Most of them managed to draw back, though, and the few pilots that were more daring were continuing to fire against the Germans to save a few Resistance members. The pilot who’d rescued Nico, Percy Jackson, seemed kind enough. He had pretty blue-green eyes and wind blown black hair.
He’d been talking to Nico as one might to a child. It wasn’t Jackson who’d explained what happened in his village, though. It was another American pilot, some Asian man, who was Percy’s partner.
He told him that his parents and nearly all of the Resistance had been slaughtered by the Nazis, and the Germanic allies- Thalia and Ethaniel- had been arrested on claims of treason. The whereabouts of his sister were unknown.
Nico had never been so scared and depressed in his entire life. He couldn’t cry, he couldn’t scream, couldn’t speak. He was left in a numb kind of pain, ignoring the poor conversations Percy tried to initiate.
He didn’t eat, barely slept- he was lost and alone and he had no mother or sister to tell him to get to bed or eat his dinner. His father would’ve told him to be brave. He didn’t have any courage left in him.
He was taken to an American camp in the Italian countryside. He thought that’s where it was, anyways. They told him he’d stay there until they could sort things out in his village. The Asian man said moving to the United States might be a nice alternative. Nico didn’t like to talk about it.
June 27, 1942
Nico wasn’t eating. The military food was terrible and he felt like throwing up every time he swallowed a bite. It wasn’t as sunny as it was in Italy either.
He sat in a medical tent, occasionally being checked up on by a doctor. He prayed every night that Bianca was okay, that his village would be alright. He prayed that the Germans wouldn’t win the war and he could go home. He didn’t like to think about the fact he didn’t have much of a home anymore.
He remembered the very day he regained a smidgen of hope.
It was late June when he was met with another soldier. He bounded into the tent with a familiarity that made Nico uncomfortable. He spoke to the man on watch, then gave Nico and a quick glance before thanking the man.
“You're the Italian?” he asked before he even reached his bed. His skin was dark and he had curly hair. It would've looked boyish if he didn't have stubble growing along a jaw much more defined than Nico’s and a hard chest.
“Yes.”
He nodded and held out his hand. “I'm Leo. Nice to meet you.”
He didn't shake the man's hand, so he let it drop back to his side. Nico stared at Leo for a long while. “That was my father's name.”
He didn't know why he said it because it caused a long, awkward silence. Leo cleared his throat.
“Oh.” He blinked at Nico, “It’s a common name in Southern Europe, I guess… I’m Spanish.”
“I can tell,” Nico ripped his bread and popped a small piece in his mouth.
Leo was quiet for another moment. “Well, I just wanted to see if you were alright. Calypso’s concerned for you, you know,” he nodded towards a woman occupying one of the other beds, one that had long, glossy hair flowing down her back and was watching them in earnest. When she noticed Nico looking over at her, she waved, “and she asked me if I could check up on you. You don’t talk a lot.”
“There isn’t a lot to talk about.”
“I’ll… Has Solace looked at you yet?” Leo asked.
“No. Who’s that?” Nico asked, digging his short fingernails into the hardened outside of the bread.
“He’s our number one doc out here. I’ll make sure he does that. Calypso, she’s a doctor too, but I think she’d be more suited to helping you up here.” He tapped the side of his head.
“I’m mentally stable,” Nico snapped.
“Didn’t say you weren’t,” Leo replied smoothly, “Just that, you know, after what you’ve gone through…” he gave Nico a sympathetic look, “maybe it’d be nice to talk about it.”
“Yeah, well, I think I’m fine,” Nico muttered with a sharp glare to Leo.
“It’s not good to hold all that kind of stuff in,” Leo said, disregarding Nico’s counter, “I’m serious, chick-a-dee, you should really take up Calypso’s help.”
Nico shoved food into his face so he wasn’t obligated to respond. He wasn’t a child and this man shouldn’t be calling him chick-a-dee. Leo sighed. “She’s just a few beds over, recovering from a pretty nasty bruised rib. Not off work, though, much too committed for that. Just give her a chance, okay? Jackson’s told me about your situation.”
“I wasn’t aware I was so interesting.”
“You…” Leo blinked, “You do know that we only managed to recover five people from your village, right? Everyone else was either unwilling, fucking suicidal, really, or-,” he broke off there, “Sorry.”
“I know there’s been death, I’m not stupid.” Nico said, “My mother, my father, my sister, my friends, my grandparents…” He stopped once his voice broke. He took a deep breath to bite back tears. His own damn arrogance was going to cause him to sob. Go figure.
Leo started to say something, but Nico cut him off. He talked quickly to avoid crying. “I don’t need your pity or anyone else’s. Just leave me alone.” Leo put his hands up.
“I’m sorry. I just thought it might help.”
“Well, it didn’t!” Nico exclaimed angrily, chest rising and falling rapidly. He stared at Leo for another few moments before the tears threatening to spill from his eyes finally did. He cried. His father told him to never show weakness in front of a potential enemy, but he didn’t care anymore. His father wasn’t here. His father wasn’t even alive.
Leo’s comforting words were a buzz in his ears. The only thing to startle him out of his element was the presence of a cool palm on his cheek. A thumb wiped his tears away and he leaned into the touch.
“Leo, get me a washcloth,” said a distinctly female voice, “Nico? I’m Calypso. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
June 30, 1942
Nico didn’t want anyone to help him. He could do things all by himself just fine, perfectly fine, and no doctor was going to get to him. Calypso was a nice woman, sure, but he didn’t need her. That’s what he told himself day in and day out.
He still went to see her.
Just because she was friendly, though.
It’d only been a few days after actually having a sit-down chat with the lady that he was met with an actual doctor to check on his physical wounds.
His name was Dr. William Solace and he had blond hair and blue eyes just like a lot of the Germans who’d been stationed in his village had. He didn’t have a German accent, though- at least, not a strong one if at all- and he was a very kindhearted person. He always put others before himself, took extra special care of all his patients, and never stopped smiling.
Nico hated him immediately.
“You’re healing up pretty well, Nico. No serious injuries! Maybe some scarring or minor pain, but you’re pretty much set.” Will beamed at Nico. Nico scowled.
“I know you’ve been speaking with Calypso, yes?” he asked. Nico noticed how much more Germanic he sounded when he was saying something interrogatively.
“I guess,” he murmured, playing with the sleeves of his shirt. It was warm out, but he still seemed to always feel freezing.
Will tsked. “That woman, she’s certainly something,” he laughed a little, “She never stopped talking about you. I think you reminded her of her sister.”
Nico’s face scrunched up in indignancy. “Her sister? I’m no girl.”
Will chuckled. “Well, Calypso has told me that Zoë is quite the stubborn thing.”
Nico didn’t say anything.
“She’s in the American military, you know.”
Nico looked up at him, surprised. “She’s allowed?”
Will grinned. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, di Angelo,” he leaned in a little bit, “I think she’s better than half of the other men she works with.”
Nico looked up at Will, who raised an eyebrow back at him. He looked so bright and sunny and happy.
Nico didn’t know how anyone could be happy in this mess of a time.
July 28th, 1942
The tent was nearing empty. It was late at night, and the people that still inhabited it were all asleep. Save for a couple. The only noise to be heard was the sound of hushed whispering.
“You think I’m gross.”
“No.”
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
“You’re lying.”
Will sighed and gave Nico a stern look. “I don’t think you’re gross at all, okay?”
Nico glared. “I saw the way you looked at me when I told you!”
“I didn’t look at you any sorta way, Nico.”
“You did!”
“Fine, you wanna know what I think?” Will asked, and Nico retorted with a quiet ‘yeah, I do’ before Will had taken his wrist into his grasp.
“I think that your eyes are beautiful.”
Nico blinked. Confused would be the best word to describe him. Shocked, maybe. Will continued to stare at him with hardened eyes. There was a silver cross hanging around his neck. He always wore it. Nico grabbed the pendant and very lightly tugged Will towards him.
He didn’t need much coaxing.
August 2nd, 1942
“He’s dead.”
Calypso’s words seemed to hang in the air like a mist. Yes, it was the sentence that no one dared speak. It was the truth that no one wanted to tell. It was the grim realization that this was what had happened, and there was no changing it.
Jason didn’t say anything for a while. “Yes. He is.”
“Oh,” Calypso breathed, emotionless, toneless as if she’d locked up the part of her brain that processed emotion, “Oh.”
Jason glanced at Will, who placed a hand on Calypso’s shoulder. Nico watched from his bed. He knew how Calypso felt. He had experienced this, too.
“He promised me,” she managed after a while, “You know he promised me.”
Jason stared at her as if this was hurting him more than what had happened. As if seeing her life this ached more than the actual tragedy.
“And you…” she didn’t even glance at him, “You… you promised me, too.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and Nico saw how red his eyes were. Nico had never seen a strong man cry. Father had never cried. His uncles had never cried. But right now, Jason Grace looked on the verge of tears, and yet he still looked stronger than any man Nico had known.
“That he’d be alright,” she continued, talking as if Jason hadn’t spoken, “That we’d be alright. And that I’d meet Mrs. Grace. That I’d meet Piper.”
Jason ran his tongue over his teeth. “I know.”
“And he promised me that we’d go to see one of those really fancy Broadway shows. And that he’d buy me the prettiest diamonds and I’d be the most knockout girl on the entire block, and…” she took a deep breath and looked up at him, “And you know what?
Jason didn’t look like he wanted to respond. After a moment, though, he said, quietly, “What?”
Calypso dropped her gaze again. She ran her thumb over the cheap plastic of the children’s ring Leo had given her. He told Nico about that. He said that it was a placeholder until he could buy Calypso the ring she deserved. He said that she deserved more than what was in his entire bank account and that when he was a real rich fella one day, he’d spend as much as he needed to put the most gorgeous ring on Calypso’s finger. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stared back up at Jason.
“He was a liar.”