☼ ᴾᴸᴱᴬˢᴱ ᵀᵁᴿᴺ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴸᴵᴳᴴᵀ ᴼᴺ ᵂᴴᴱᴺ ᴵᵀ ᴰᴵᴱˢ ☀ - Stri and Socks

(You’re quite right… I love our other three just as much. How could I have discredited them like this!! Jk jk <3)

Nico’s world, as usual, was not a fun place to be. He was surrounded on almost all sides by people who didn’t trust him, with an immense load on his back that he really didn’t know how to handle. The weight of the world was resting on his shoulders, and if he were honest, it really wasn’t all that different from Atlas’ struggles. He’d never had to hold the actual world up, but he was willing to bet that the future of it was just as heavy. Of course… he knew that even if he succeeded the world could still die and it wouldn’t be his fault, but that really wasn’t much of a condolence. He really would have rather the world not be in any danger at all. And it was getting harder and harder to sleep the further he got from Tartarus. It was as though his brain had decided that it was a perfectly good time to start processing things already, and he wasn’t ready. So when he blinked into the House, he heaved a sigh of relief. For a few moments, he thought he was alone, so he leaned his back against the wall and let the quiet of the living room wash over him. He was glad to see they weren’t still in the room he’d been in last… where he had been certain that Sam was going to die, only to find out that… well, that he wasn’t. That Sam wasn’t even technically alive.
It wasn’t so much that Nico minded, nor that he wished Sam had told him, but it was just… he had begun to think that they were friends, after what they had been through together, and… and Sam had sounded so scared when the truth had fallen.
If Nico were honest, Sam had been on his mind more than everything in his world had been the past few days, which… was probably not good considering how difficult Nico’s task in his world was. Yet he had been silently daring the House to blink him back in ever since he’d blinked out. What did you say to someone who had convinced themselves that they weren’t worthy of friendship? Who had convinced themselves that they were fundamentally wrong? Nico let out a harsh, ironic laugh at that. How was he, the one who didn’t deserve any friends, supposed to convince Sam that being a vampire didn’t make him any less worthy? How was Nico supposed to tell him that if Sam would have him, he’d do anything to stay his friend, because truth be told he hated the idea of abandoning the people he had come to care about, and somehow Sam had wormed his way into that category.
It was complicated, Nico knew. A few years before he may have pulled his sword at the idea of a vampire, but he knew better now. Vampires from other worlds weren’t the same as the monsters from his. It just didn’t work that way. Maybe Sam hadn’t learned that other places didn’t have the same biases that his world did. That had taken Nico years to learn.
Finally, he opened his eyes, shocked to find that Sam was there. He had no idea if the other boy had been there since he’d blinked in, or if he’d arrived before… but either way, he’d obviously been standing there for more than a few seconds. Nico blushed, aware he’d been caught in a moment of what could have been vulnerability - a softness that was seemingly uncharacteristic.

Nico noticed the shirt, but he didn’t say anything. He figured that Sam was probably aware, which… well, if he was, then there was no use drawing attention to it, because it would probably make the other boy feel self conscious about it. And Nico had certainly had days where he had put his shirt on inside out and not noticed for far too long. He didn’t know why it felt like there was an awkwardness between him and Sam that replaced what he had come to see as a familiar comfortable silence. They hadn’t needed to fill in every second, and he had begun to sense that there was a friendship blossoming between them. Now, though, it just seemed that… well, that Sam didn’t really want to be around him, and for once Nico was almost certain that this reluctance wasn’t his fault.
“I… I’ve been better,” he admitted with an almost self deprecating smile. “I’m sure your answer is similar, based on your expression…” he felt like he had said something wrong, but he didn’t know if the mistake had happened now, or before. If this was about Sam being a vampire… how could Nico tell him that it was okay? How could he convince Sam that he was okay with it when the other boy was already convinced that there was no chance of being friends because of what he was?
“I think you’re just supposed to do what you always do,” Nico replied quietly. “You don’t need to worry about doing anything different, at least not around me. I…” he didn’t know how to make this right, no matter how much he wanted to. He didn’t have the right words. “You know… I wasn’t lying, last time. It doesn’t matter to me. It doesn’t change anything.” Well, maybe it would change the way he looked at Sam in certain lights, or the way he worried about him in certain rooms, but it wouldn’t change anything else. “You’re not the only vampire in the House, you know. And even if you were, I’ve experienced too much to let a friend go just because of what he is. You’re still…” Nico frowned, struggling to put it into words. He blushed, looking away so that hopefully Sam wouldn’t see. “Gods… I don’t normally open up to people, Sam, or worry about them, but… you’re different. And I don’t know why you’re different, but I’m holding on to it, okay? You can’t shake me that easily.”

Nico wasn’t sure how much help he was being, but he wanted Sam to believe him, so he had to keep going. He had to convince the boy in front of him that there was nothing wrong with being a vampire, that he wouldn’t scare Nico off, that it took more than that to make Nico leave once he had found a reason to stay. How could he tell that to someone he hadn’t even known that long? How could Sam possibly take the fact that Nico had chosen to trust him, and believe in him, and had chosen not to back away from that because it was a decision that, in Nico’s eyes, couldn’t be unmade?
“I’m not sure,” he admitted after a moment. He had never been the best at small talk - he was used to staying silent until someone needed information out of him, and then he offered it only when necessary. It was an easy way to avoid having to deal with people at the worst of times. The thing was, he didn’t want to avoid dealing with Sam, he just didn’t have a clue how to make things go on normally when it was so clear that Sam was unwilling to believe him. The hard part now was proving what he had said until Sam finally accepted what Nico had already come to understand as truth: nothing was different now that Nico knew Sam’s truth.
“I’d ask about your world, but I think we both know that things are tricky for both of us.” He gave an uncomfortable laugh, shaking his head. “There’s not much in my world I want to talk about, and I hate to assume anything, but I’d take a wild guess and say you want to avoid anything happening in your world too right now.” He frowned at the wall for a bit, thinking of what they could possibly talk about. “I could teach you to do more with my sword, if you wanted,” he suggested after a moment. “Or we could talk about something else. I don’t actually know that much about you, you know? You learn about the big things first when you only have a few minutes to catch up with someone here. I don’t know your favorite colors or whether you’ve ever had a pet, or what makes you smile after a long day, or whether you like to read books or take hikes, or what your favorite fast food is…” the truth was, Nico didn’t even know if he had an answer for all of those questions himself. He found he wanted to know, though, about Sam’s answers. Because he was tired of only knowing the hard details of his friends’ lives. He wanted to know what made them laugh so he could start laughing again too. His heart ached with the knowledge that they were all slowly putting themselves together and it would take longer than he had prepared for, but for some reason it seemed easier when he was looking into the face of someone who had been willing to listen to him and accept him in the House. He just wanted to do the same for Sam.

“Green,” Nico repeated softly, almost smiling. It was as though all of his walls were breaking down, almost as slowly as they’d been built up way before the boy had ever met Sam. He glanced down at his own attire, almost laughing - though it was unclear whether or not there was any humor in it. “Practicality more than style,” he replied after a moment. “Easier to blend in when you aren’t wearing anything bright. “My favorite color’s yellow,” he murmured after another moment, his face reddening as though it was something to be ashamed about. The Ghost King, Prince of the Underworld, liking the color yellow because it looked like happiness. It could ruin his reputation. Not that he had much of a reputation with Sam anymore. Not that he wanted to preserve the reputation he had in his world around Sam.
“Rain check,” Nico confirmed, watching Sam for a few moments. “I’ve never played a video game,” he admitted, turning his gaze away from Sam. He expected incredulity at the very least, if not an accusation of some sort. Then he’d have to to explain the Lotus Hotel and the technology thing, and… well, there was plenty about Nico that Sam didn’t know, not because it was a secret, but because it had never come up. Because Nico did his best to avoid explaining it. This was just the tip of the iceberg. The odd thing was that he wanted Sam to know, now. He had no idea why, but… he couldn’t help it.
“McDonalds is better,” he shot back, allowing himself a full smile. It made him look his age, erasing the years that stress and trauma had drawn onto his features. “Unless you count a hellhound, I’m not sure about pets. Animals don’t like me much. And pet peeves is a can of worms you don’t wanna open,” he quipped, scooting slightly closer to the other boy.

Nico shook his head, scowling in that performative and joking way he didn’t really have control over, but that indicated he wasn’t actually offended. “I have the dark brown,” he replied in mock indignance, tugging at his jacket. “Besides,” he smiled, “I’m one with the shadows, you’ll never find me.” He shifted, his hand accidentally brushing against Sam’s as he placed it down on the ground again to support himself. He froze, something in him building up and then releasing in the utterance of a single, tiny word. “Sorry.” He pulled back almost instantly, putting another foot between the two of them. How did he admit that he wanted to come out and talk to Sam? That he had hidden for so long and he… didn’t know how to let himself get close.
His gaze caught on Sam’s necklace and smiled softly. He had given away the Hades figurine, but… well, it was similar, wasn’t it? He kept silent, not wanting to say anything about that now. Neither of them needed reminders of things that were less than ideal.
“Never,” he confirmed, shaking his head. And Sam asked why, so against his better judgement, he hesitated a moment instead of delivering the lies he was so familiar with. “I was born in the 1930s.” He stared at the ground for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I was kept in a sort of… pocket in time for… well, longer than I can remember. It felt like a year, but it was much, much longer. And then I got out and it was the 2000s. And I never really learned how to use technology. And it’s dangerous, for demigods. Monsters can track us through digital devices. But… I’d like to play, I think. I’d be pretty bad, I bet.” He laughed lightly, at his own expense.
Nico made a face. “Where else can you get those fries and the toys that come with Happy Meals? And nowhere else has coke cups big enough to summon the dead with.” He was joking as well, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. It was like he’d become an entirely different boy - one who wasn’t terrified about the weight of the world just now.
“A hellhound is like… a very large dog who makes sure souls stay where they’re supposed to. Mrs. O’Leary’s a sweetheart.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then frowned as he heard what else Sam said. “You’ll be fine. My pet peeves are… quite specific. Just don’t touch me.” Wait. No, that wasn’t what he meant, but the words had slipped out and he couldn’t take them back. Because it was true, but it was easier to share physical contact with Sam than anyone else and he’d just… ruined it for himself. He clenched his jaw, staring at the ground.

Suddenly everything felt awkward and Nico didn’t know how to deal with it. He wanted to back down from the conversation, but he didn’t want it to end. How was he supposed to deal with that? But Sam was listening when he told him about his life, and it felt good to know that there was one more person who knew enough about him that there was no longer any guilt when it came to secrets he hadn’t shared. Not that he’d told Sam everything, but he had told him enough. Enough that he didn’t feel like he was disguising himself anymore, at least. He didn’t feel like he was deceiving Sam by only presenting the part of him that was good, that did kind things for people, that believed in honor. At least Sam knew that there was more to that… that there was a certain layer of darkness that he couldn’t quite conceal. Perhaps it felt so easy to show that because Sam had it too, and had the same shame surrounding it.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s… it’s better living in the present than the past, I guess, and technology isn’t as difficult to figure out as it seems at first, sometimes…” he trailed off, realizing that the word “monster” had changed something in the way Sam was looking at him. “I don’t know,” Nico admitted, shaking his head. “Something with how our energy combines with the waves in digital devices, I guess?” He stared at the ground, not knowing how to tell Sam that he wasn’t a monster, because by Nico’s world’s definition, how could he really be sure? “When I say monsters…” he fumbled through the words, reddening as he tried to make them come out in the right order. “I mean ancient things. Things that turn to dust when you kill them and come back later with a vendetta against you.” He glanced at Sam for a moment, unwilling to voice the rest of his thought: he didn’t mean nice boys who were afraid of what they were and who didn’t feel comfortable existing in a world that saw them as an enemy when they had done nothing to deserve the title. He didn’t mean boys with soft hands and breathtaking smiles and hair that seemed to fall into their eyes sometimes.
“We’ll have to play one, at some point,” Nico murmured, the words catching in his throat. “Maybe if there’s a video game room. And…” his serious expression lifted, if only just a touch. “You can’t use the cup for anything!” he retorted, crossing his arms. “You flood the grave with coke, and sometimes they’ll come because they liked it when they were alive. My sister…” he cut off, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as he forced himself to take a breath. “If I outlive you - and I don’t plan on it - I’ll only use lemonade to summon your ghost. I promise. Although on principle I know coke would summon me. If you were curious.”
It felt like he was caught in that uncomfortable space between inhaling and exhaling. “I just meant…” what had he meant? “Sometimes, I…” no, that wasn’t right either. “Sometimes normal people touch too much, but you-“ and he had just called Sam abnormal. Good going.

“No!” Nico replied, voice harsher than he had meant it to be. “How can you even…” he twisted the ring that rested on his pointer finger. “No.” How could Sam keep seeing himself as a monster? “Monsters are…” he trailed off, trying to find a good definition. Because how could he lump Iapetus in with the monsters when he excluded Minos? Both of them… well, they weren’t what the label said they were. The next thought that Nico had complicated matters even further: you don’t want to eat me. Which, strictly speaking, he couldn’t say for sure was true of Sam. “There are monsters and there are monsters, and you aren’t either. You never will be either.” Unless you counted Nico himself among the second type for what he had done in the past.
“The first kind you can’t change. That’s… well, that’s everything that’s reborn in Tartarus,” he shuddered at the word, hating the way it made his voice break because he really should be over it by now, he had talked about it too much… not now. “When it dies and it fights its way back up and whatever you do, it doesn’t stay dead. And it…” claws across his back and on his arms as he tried to shield himself, the flutter of heavy wings descending near him, poison spit his direction, laughing, loud laughing, ropes… that was what monsters were, and it made his breath catch in his throat and tears burn at his eyes. “The second kind… well, doesn’t matter biologically what you are. Anyone can be a monster. Greedy kings or boys who enjoy decapitating teddy bears,” he made a face at that one, “But not you. And maybe you’re going to become one, but you… you have a choice and it doesn’t matter if you’re a vampire or not. If you’re going to be the second kind of monster it wouldn’t make any difference.” How did he explain to Sam that he belonged to that second class, no matter how hard he tried to turn his story around? He had been told that he didn’t, that he needed to stop blaming himself, but it was a hard thing to shake off.
“Monsters are boys who choose themselves over others when the world is at stake.” He left it at that, staring at the ground for a moment before he let himself be sucked in by the next question.
“I… I used to play a stupid card game. It was called Mythomagic. I don’t anymore, though. Been a long time since I had the chance to play anything other than Capture the Flag,” he admitted. “If I ever find a deck of Mythomagic cards in my world again-“ he doubted he would, which made him more comfortable saying it, “I’ll teach you to play when you teach me video games. Okay?”
“Hey!” he objected, shaking his head. There was more humor in it this time - a welcome break from the seriousness that had preceded the statement. “Lots of ghosts just take what they can get, they aren’t picky!” He blushed once the rest of Sam’s statement processed. “I wouldn’t say no to a coke now,” he murmured, not quite able to catch Sam’s gaze. “If you’ll let me try to blink in with a lemonade.” Not that he would be successful given everything going on in his world.
“I… I don’t know,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I always wanted to be normal. I still do, but… not normal is good. Not normal means you listen to me ramble about things that don’t really matter, and you…” he cut himself off before he could go any further. “No, I don’t like normal. It’d be too hard to appreciate after everything. Not normal is perfect.”


Nico glanced up, half wondering how his attempt to comfort Sam had ended in Sam trying to do the same for him. They were both more or less disasters, it seemed. How did he convince Sam he didn’t deserve to be called a monster when Nico himself had a hard time believing that the labels didn’t belong to himself? “It’s hard to know,” he replied quietly, and honestly. Because the truth was he didn’t know how much he valued his life anymore. Not that he’d want it to end, but just that there were so many people who were simply better than him. Who deserved life far more than he did. Besides, there was no fear for him in dying. He knew where he would end up. “No, I don’t think so.” But the thing was, he didn’t know if he’d choose the world either. He would choose people, not himself, but there was no guarantee that the world wouldn’t burn because he chose someone in particular and was willing to sacrifice everything else for them. Was that still selfish? It seemed to Nico that it might be. “I’m not…” he sighed. How did he know he wouldn’t choose himself? Fear had forced him to stay alive until he was rescued, but was that for himself or for the people he could help in keeping fighting? The lines were terribly blurred. “Those boys aren’t good people. They… they aren’t bad, either. Only the world has told them that they are.” He wasn’t intentionally pushing the topic away from himself, but it had that effect anyway. Besides, it would probably be good for Sam to see himself in the analogy as well. “And it’s their choice from there. Their choice if they answer the question the same way.”
He let his eyes slip down towards the ground, catching for a moment on where Sam’s hand hung by his side. Why did he feel the urge to take it? He shoved the thought away. It wasn’t productive now, and it wouldn’t ever be productive, especially not in a conversation like the one they were having.
“I don’t know that many card games,” Nico admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “In the Lotus I was really only interested in finding other people to play Mythomagic. And on those things that spin really fast when you push them the right way.” He chuckled softly at that, glancing back up. “When do you become too old for a card game? Aren’t there grandparents that play Go Fish, and not even with their grandkids?” He wasn’t terribly familiar with the concept. It was clear that he had been alone for a long time - for as long as he could remember, really. “You ever play Egyptian Rat Slap? We could play that too.” He had a feeling that could be fun, especially if Sam got competitive. Nico knew he had a tendency to get a bit too competitive while playing, but perhaps that was just a demigod thing.
“I’ll keep that in mind when I’m waiting in the Underworld for you,” he laughed, shaking his head slightly. “I’ll make sure my father prepares the best lemonade for you that there is. Perhaps from Persephone’s garden.” For a moment, it seemed, he had forgotten that they might not even be from the same world. He had forgotten that there would be no reason for him to wait to welcome Sam to the underworld for however long it took his friend to pass. He had no guarantee vampires were even allowed into the underworld. It was all… well, it was complicated. “Either way, I’m blinking in with lemonade if it’s the last thing I do.”
Why did Nico feel the need to look away when he noticed the color returning to Sam’s face? Why did it make him want to smile? That was… that was so stupid, why… he glanced at the ground, swallowing. This was not the time or the place to make the other boy uncomfortable. There was a lot he needed to push down.
“I… somewhere in New York,” he murmured, though he knew that was the least helpful answer he could give. “A thrift store, maybe?” He had tried to pay in drachmas, which were apparently accepted at McDonalds but not thrift stores. “Why?” he asked, a bit of a smile curling at his lips, “You want to try for the ‘Death Boy’ look?” His voice was playful, though it was a nickname he would physically fight people for using. He didn’t know why he’d brought it up with Sam.

“How can you tell from just the name?” Nico asked, laughing softly to himself. “For all you know it could be the worst game ever invented.” It was a very strangely named game, he had to admit. He stared at the ground for a moment, brows creasing. How long had it been since he had been able to have a conversation about things that didn’t matter? About card games and lemonade and not the end of the world? How long since he had actually laughed about something and meant that it was funny? Why had he let himself go so much around Sam? Why was Sam still willing to talk to him? Thoughts were swirling around in his head, none of them coming to conclusions, though he wasn’t sure why. He had ached for a conversation like this for so long… he had never actually expected one to fall into his lap like this.
“Funny?” he repeated under his breath. He wasn’t sure what Sam meant by that, but he took a subconscious scoot backwards anyway. For all he knew it could be a bad thing and he hadn’t meant to… to do that. To create any sort of negative impression. Perhaps he had been foolish in talking about lemonade. Perhaps he had taken it too far… why did he feel like the ten year old he had been, full to bursting with questions and never quite understanding how or when he crossed a line? He thought he had learned. That was part of the reason he had isolated himself so much. He had been hurting, and Minos was right, he could be annoying as hell… he forced himself to breath in deeply, then out. He was overthinking this, surely. Right?
“It’s… okay,” he murmured. “I’m not… good at conversation, I guess.” He met Sam’s eyes very briefly. “If it makes any difference, I think my look would suit you perfectly,” he joked, though his tone was slightly more reserved than before. “I… honestly, it gives people the right impression of me, and it’s what they expect. So I have no issues with it.”

Nico turned bright red. He didn’t mean to blush, of course, but Sam’s words hit him, the fact that the other boy had been interested in something just because Nico had suggested it. As if that was enough. As though he could be seen as someone to be trusted with choosing things that would be fun. That would be fun for Sam and not just Nico. He smiled slightly, not letting on just how happy Sam’s words had made him. If Sam had wanted to make Nico’s heart beat faster, then he had succeeded. Which made Nico just blush more because he knew that Sam could read every cue that he was unintentionally projecting. There was no hiding anything from the vampire… but part of him didn’t want to hide.
Sucking in a breath, Nico glanced away from Sam. Because Sam was blaming himself for being awkward, but at least half - if not more than half - of the awkwardness was because of Nico. Neither of them were very good at this, it seemed. Tentatively, he scooted forward again, swallowing back all of the words that wanted to be said but that weren’t brave enough to make it out into the open. There wasn’t anything to say other than, “Sorry.” He really wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, but he knew it needed to be said. Because if Sam was apologizing then Nico had just as much to apologize for.
“Right,” he murmured, trying to think of questions. “Um…” he didn’t want to ask anything too deep because he knew there were things Sam didn’t want to talk about, and he knew there were things that he didn’t want to talk about, and it would be hard to strike a balance between them. So he would just avoid anything that would possibly strike up those conversations.
“Tell me about your favorite season, and… and your favorite movies to watch, if you watch movies?” Because he knew he had a few that he enjoyed as guilty pleasures, and some that he actually genuinely enjoyed. Not that he got the chance to watch movies often, but when he did he tended to have opinions. “Or just… about your favorite memory from the House.”
That couldn’t be too dangerous, right?

Texas. Well, it wasn’t like Nico hadn’t been to Texas, but he really had only been there for a brief period of time. He really preferred to stick to either coastline, if he were being honest. Or underground, and underground could literally be anywhere. But he really hadn’t spent much time in the middle of the country. Perhaps, if Sam was there, though… well… no, he wouldn’t think about that. He had no idea if Sam would even want him barging into his world, and Nico had a war to finish fighting. A war that he wasn’t likely to win. It was a bit too soon to be making plans like that.
“Winter can be hard depending on where you are,” he admitted with a soft smile. The truth was, he thought he would prefer the burning cold of winter now, much more than he ever had before. Because heat could so easily become too much, and he had lived through too much heat. It didn’t bear thinking about. “I hope you see snow at some point. It’s really pretty.” He couldn’t remember if he had ever seen snow before he had moved to the United States. Logically he didn’t think it could snow in Venice, but he didn’t know for sure. His childhood felt a long way off. “Fall is the best, though,” he agreed. “Nobody’s better at decorating for Halloween than I am.” It was a joke, almost. Or at least it was probably a joke by the way Nico’s lip was threatening to tilt up into a smile. Why was it easier to smile around people like Sam? He understood for the people he’d known for a while, who had watched him become what he was and weren’t afraid to look him in the eye… but Sam… he had a lot to fear from Sam. So why was it so easy to drop his mask in front of the other boy?
Nico laughed, at that. Genuine laughter that was short-lived, but there, and made the boy seem more his age than anything else seemed to before. “Have you ever seen Disney’s Hercules?” He asked, something in his eyes glinting mischievously. “I’ve never told my father about it, but that portrayal of him is one of the best things I’ve ever seen in my life.” He stared at his feet for a moment, shaking his head. “If my father hadn’t made that vow after I was born I would have sworn the movie was written by one of his children. But it’s clear no demigods were consulted in making that movie, because Zeus was far too nice. ”He rolled his eyes. “Other than that… I like watching black and white horror movies. The original Mummy movie is enjoyable. But mostly Disney.” He let his eyes drift closed.
“I remember, when I was really young… just after I’d been brought to America… my mother took Bianca and I to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. The year it came out, too, and it was… gods, Sam, it was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It was unlike anything anyone in that theatre had ever seen.”
He let himself enjoy the memory for just a moment before his eyes snapped open and he looked at Sam like he’d just grown a second head. That… couldn’t be true, right? That Sam’s best House memory included Nico? There went his heartbeat again, and his blood rushing to his cheeks… he took a deep breath. Sam wasn’t looking at him. “Mine wasn’t that long ago,” he prefaced, the tone of his voice giving away that he was at least slightly thrown off by Sam’s words. “Something bad was happening in my world and I… and I blinked in and there were people here who were… they were friends. They were the kind of friends I don’t get to have in my world.” Most of them were gone, it seemed, though he pushed that thought to the back of his mind. “As for hobbies… not really. Don’t have the time.”

Nico had actually made Sam laugh. He couldn’t quite recall if he had done it before or if this was a new thing, but he knew he liked the sound of it. He glanced down at his feet, allowing himself a small chuckle at the idea of forcing his father to watch the movie. That would… well, the one thing Nico knew was that it would lose him his father’s favor almost immediately. “Yes,” he smiled, seeming to open up just a little bit. Like he wasn’t afraid to drop his mask for just a moment, to display what was inside even if what was inside was cracked almost beyond repair.
“It was,” he murmured in response to Sam’s comment about Snow White. Part of him wished he could go back, but the rest of him knew he was probably better off with how things had turned out, even if that seemed miserable at times. Who would he be if he hadn’t experienced everything he had since the Lotus Hotel? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Perhaps because he knew he would have been better… he tucked the thought away to dwell on at another time.
He watched as Sam’s hand reached up, and for a brief moment he wanted to reach out and touch it, make contact, but by the time he was about to initiate, Sam’s hand had dropped to his side again.
“I… maybe we could-” he was about to say more, propose an idea of some sort, when he blinked out.
— Time skip —
“The House of Hades,” Nico announced, apprehension brewing in his heart. He dropped his rather strange demeanor upon noticing that he had blinked in, but he was without a doubt still on edge. And he was alone, which was never a good sign. He sighed, slightly. Just once, he would have liked the House to give him more than five minutes in between blinks. Then again, this most recent break had been longer than most of them seemed to be. Five minutes was, without a doubt, much better than the few seconds he had gotten between blinks for what had felt like way too long.
He took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, dreading the moment when he was going to blink back. This was his moment of truth. He just didn’t know if he was ready to deal with it. When he blinked back… well, he was either going to put the world in a position where it could be saved, or he was going to fail and doom it forever. No pressure.

“Hey,” Nico replied, raising a hand in greeting to Sam. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on what the boy was saying as he blinked in, but it had happened, and now the words hung in the air between them. Well… Sam probably didn’t sense the feeling of it, because he would have no way of knowing that the name meant anything to Nico, but… it did. Oddly enough. Because this was one hell of a coincidence.
“Myrnin?” Nico asked cautiously, his attention having been caught by the name. It could be a coincidence, but he didn’t think Myrnin was a very popular name, and it didn’t seem terribly likely that there would be two people named Myrnin who also happened to associate with vampires. Then again, maybe the world was playing tricks on him and he had heard the name wrong? That seemed more likely. “Long hair, vampire, weird fashion sense?” It was worth a shot, at least, to see if they knew the same person. If not… well, it was a funny story to tell, right? “If… if it’s the same person that’s… did you know he blinks in, sometimes?” He didn’t know if it was his place to tell Sam that information, but oh well. They were likely to run into each other at one point, probably. “He’s… he’s a good friend of mine.” He didn’t know if that would be good information or not. It was possible that Sam hated Myrnin. There were plenty of people in Myrnin’s world that seemed to be wary of him at the very least, it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to believe that Sam could be one of them. But the words happened anyway. But if it meant they were in the same world… that could only be a good thing, right? They could see each other outside the House.