Annabeth: *Staring at Percy*
Percy: *oblivious* What?
Annabeth: You're so pretty. *Kisses him on the cheek and walks away*
Percy: *red faced and completely flustered* I uh-
Will: *in the distance* We need to talk about the amount of power this woman holds. She's got the two time hero of Olympus internally squealing like a school girl.
Percy: *shouts* I heard that, Solace!
Will: *shouts back* Oh yeah? What you gonna do about it, Pretty Boy?
Clarisse: *laughing her ass off* Yeah, Pretty Boy, whatcha gonna do?
Percy: I hate you both.
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Nico: how does one turn their emotions off?
Lou Ellen: ok so first go to settings
Cecil: emotions not emojis you idiot
Nico: no no keep going, im still willing to try this. im at settings, what you do next?
Will: exit settings and go to THERAPY
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Nico cannot get out of the stupid van fast enough, practically throwing himself out of the sliding door.
“You should kiss the ground, next,” comments Will drily, stepping out of the van like a normal person. (Easy for him. He got shotgun.) “Since you’re being so dramatic already.” He nudges Nico with his toe, who is sprawled out in the beautiful, beautiful grass, basking in the SoCal sun. “It was not that bad.”
“Easy for you to say!” Nico cracks open one eye to glare, which is hard to do when Will smiles so fondly at him. But he’s a professional. “You had legroom! I was cramped in the back with Cecil!”
“I have long legs,” Will says haughtily, at the same time Cecil calls out, “Hey!”
Nico plucks a handful of grass — dirt and roots and all — and chucks it at him. He relishes in the screeching.
“You let one loose in the back of the already rank-ass van with broken windows. You’re lucky you’re still alive, you fucking asshole.”
Cecil really is lucky to be alive, and he knows it, so he doesn’t say anything. Nico had truly almost killed him. It was Lou Ellen, on Cecil’s other side, who had begun absolutely wailing on the son of Hermes with her book that had satisfied Nico enough to refrain from gutting him.
“I still think Nico should have killed you,” Lou Ellen mutters, from her own sprawl of relief on the ground. “I also think I am never road tripping with you people ever, ever again.”
“Except for the drive back in three days,” Will points out, and the whole lot of them groan.
In truth, it wasn’t that bad. Sure, the camp van is pretty much older than Nico, and sure, they all should have considered the implications of Will claiming he had the music handled before committing themselves to getting stuck on the I-80 with it. Sure, Austin is a horrible driver (he freaking zig-zags through traffic like he’s allergic to sticking to one lane), and Leo’s constantly bouncing leg makes the whole van shake, and Piper snores when she sleeps (and she slept at least half the drive), and Kayla gets chip crumbs everywhere, and Lou Ellen — well, actually Lou Ellen is great. No issues. It’s everyone else who is a menace.
But, well.
Nico had fun. Not that he’ll ever admit it.
“Next time, we’re shadow travelling,” he grumbles, accepting Will’s hand up. Will squeezes twice and says, without missing a beat, “Not a chance, sunshine.”
“Well, then, we’re getting fucking plane tickets. Zeus can kiss my ass.”
Will’s laughter echoes all the way across the Little Tiber, louder than even the roar of warning thunder.
— — —
part two
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