Of Nazis and Fascists and Death
This next world was easier, on his part, to get to. It appeared this time in blots, like someone spray painting upon a black canvas. It was an artsy kind of beautiful, which made Leo feel like a twenty year old hipster with an arts degree in a Starbucks. Ah, yes, the beauty of color in darkness. Bleh, how cliché!
It wasn’t familiar at all this time. It looked like an urban city street with groups of people bustling about.
That is, if it were seventy years ago.
The street looked as if he were on a movie set. The people on the streets all dressed retro- women wore dresses that passed their knees, casual heels or flats, and some even more pants that looked too big for their figures. The men were clad in suits, button-ups, suspenders, dress shoes, and a wide variety of other things that were definitely not modern.
Leo furrowed his brow and turned around. He saw a man reading a book on a bench and tried to call out. It was like his first world with Atë. It was like he wasn’t seen.
Then something particularly peculiar happened. The world seemed screech and move like someone fast forwarding a movie. It hurt his head, staring at everything happening around him. He noticed his surroundings completely change, and then it paused.
Leo blinked several times before staring around again. He noticed he was no longer in a busy city, but on a camp. No, not his camp, it looked like a base camp. There were tents set up, some that pictured red crosses on them, and uniformed men were talking, walking, and working.
He stepped towards the closest medical tent and lifted the draping curtain to cover it from the world. He inched inside and looked around.
It was fairly empty. Only eight beds in it were occupied, but one person stood out from the lighter skinned blonde or brown haired people in the other beds.
His skin was an olive color and his hair was dark. He looked bony though, almost as if he hadn’t eaten in ages.
When he turned for an instant to grab something on the small table beside him, Leo got a glimpse of his face. It was Nico! It had to be. He looked definitely older, and his arm was lined with scars and patched up with bandages, but it was Nico.
Another man stepped forth. He looked of blonde hair and blue eyes and Leo found himself stepping closer to the pair, fork held tightly in his hand. Could they still not see him? He tried to listen in on their conversation.
“-fine. Stop stressing.” That was Nico. His voice wasn’t much deeper, but it wasn’t cracking either.
“I’m assigned to take care of you. My sergeant would get mad if I didn’t.” That voice came from the blonde man. He spared a glance at him and realized that Will Solace seemed to be involved in this world too. Was he Nico’s soulmate or something?
“You have other patients,” Nico spoke bitterly, “patients that aren’t faggot fascists.” He ground out the last words in a quiet hiss.
Will sighed as if this were a common comment to be made. “Stop calling yourself that. You insult the both of us. And your country doesn’t define you.” He took Nico’s hand, looking at him with a patient expression, “You know I’m German, right? Yes? And I’m fighting for the Americans.”
He brought his hand halfway up to Nico’s face before hesitating and resting it on his shoulder.
“I know.” Nico answered in a small voice, “I know, but I just wish my father had taken me with him overseas, Will. I wish I’d never been involved in this mess.”
Will nodded. “They can’t hurt you anymore. And they were only taking the German ones, Nico. Only the German ones.”
Nico shook his head, “No, no, my mother’s consort was going to give me to them. Give me up.”
“I won’t let anyone hurt you here.” There was quiet on Will’s end for a moment, “After this war, you’re coming back to Brooklyn with me.”
“What about Bianca?”
There was a long, drawn silence before Nico spoke again. “Do you think she’s dead?”
“I don’t know what I think, but I do know I want to protect you if she can’t.”
Nico didn’t fire back like Leo thought he would. He nodded jerkily, and Will smiled and stared into Nico’s eyes for a moment.
No, he was staring at his lips. His gaze flickered away and he gave Nico’s hand a squeeze before he went back to assist some other light haired patient with a casted arm.
He couldn’t make a safe assumption yet. Percy had Nico to be in love with Will in his world, who was to say it wasn’t the same with someone else?
“Solace!”
Leo jumped at that, his fork falling to the group without a noise whatsoever. He reached down to pick it up, watching how Nico seemed to cringe and cower, but Will straightened up.
“Yes, Sergeant Grace?”
The man who had called out was undeniably Jason. He was older as well, with a defined jaw and stubble along it. He still looked built as ever, but right now he was fidgety and jumpy.
“We need you right now. There’s an emergency.” There was an urgent tone in his voice, coupled by a scared glint in his eyes, “Please.”
Will grabbed a bag and motioned for Jason to lead. They bolted down the dirt paths of the camp. Leo, with a tired groan, shoved his fork in his pocket and ran after them. He, obviously, couldn’t be seen in this world. He ran straight through several men as if he were a hologram.
The building Jason and Will had pushed into was a dome-type shape. It was much more structured. He pushed through the thin doors into a much nicer medical-type room. Lying on the metal table in the center with blood staining the cloth that another man was pressing onto his stomach was him. He was missing his right hand, and he could see bone sticking from his arm. He gagged, but Will only had a split second of panic in his eyes.
He went to work immediately.
“Keep him talking. We can’t lose him.” Will instructed. Jason took ahold of Other Leo’s left arm.
“Hey, Leo, you’re okay. It’s okay. You know what you promised me? You said we’d go on that double date with Piper and Calypso, and I’m going to hold you to that.” Leo inhaled sharply, struggling to breath, and Jason’s voice cracked. “It’s okay. Please, you’re okay. I can’t let you…”
Jason’s eyes stung with unshed tears. The other man stepped forward, and Leo’s concentration on the operation had forgotten about him. It was Percy. He looked just about as stressed and scared. “Is he going to be okay?”
Will didn’t respond, only trying to halt the bleeding of Other Leo’s stomach. It wasn’t working, and everyone knew it, but Will kept going.
Other Leo was actually going to die. He was going to die in front of himself. Other Leo’s voice was nearly silent, but he eventually took in a breath and spoke. “Raincheck.”
And then he was still, and quiet, and didn’t look dead at all. His eyes were still open and he didn’t look pale like a corpse. He looked like he was asleep.
Jason choked on unspoken words and took a few suffering breaths before dissolving into tears. He covered his face with his hand, still holding onto Other Leo’s arm.
“I promised her,” he said through tears, to no one in particular even thought Will and Percy stared at him with wide, horror-stricken eyes. “I promised Calypso I’d keep him safe.”
“We weren’t planning on being ambushed,” Percy started, “We killed them all, but Leo didn’t… And Travis and I…” His voice broke off. He looked like he wanted to cry for Leo, but he didn’t, because Jason was still in near hysterics.
“I’m sorry.” Will said, staring down at the body, “I’m so sorry.”
“We couldn’t have saved him, Will.” Percy assured him, “It was wishful thinking. He’d lost too much blood… There had probably been a punctured lung and much too much damage.”
Leo stepped back from the scene. He turned and ran from the building. He, no matter how much he wanted to think he could, couldn’t handle that. He didn’t want to see anyone weep over him, and he didn’t want to see himself die.
And he would, if he never finished this.
He took a deep breath and tried to think.
It wouldn’t be Percy’s. He hadn’t seen Frank or Hazel or Annabeth or Piper. Was it Jason’s? Or his? He didn’t think that his or Jason’s deep desire would be to be present in a war. Could that be a fear? But, no, Jason didn't fear battle. He was a Roman.
What about Nico?
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Nico had been alive in the forties, right? And that’s when World War II was, and the Holocaust.
And Will? Well, maybe Nico liked the guy! How long had he been dead? He wasn’t aware the two had spoken. And he knew that the Nazis killed homosexuals too, and the early twentieth century wasn’t very accepting.
The part where he died stung the most. Did Nico hate him that much? He had to move on, forget about that. Maybe he could try and mend that when he was revived.
“Nico's, right?”
For a long time, nothing happened. Then the world clicked off immediately.