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

Sam hadn't considered the fact that maybe Myrnin was blinking in and meeting Nico at a different time then when Nico was interacting with him. But in that case, did that mean that the Myrnin in his world hadn't started blinking in yet?
He didn't really know if there was a way to figure it out. He thought the rest of what Nico said made sense, though he hadn't gotten to know Myrnin well enough right now to figure out the rest of it.
"I see," he said, and meant it. "I'm still getting to know him ..."
He wasn't sure if he should mention the rest of it, but it came out in an almost rush, "I'm ... I'm not sure what's going to happen or where I'm going to stay - where I'm going to go."
Then he bit back the words.
He took a breath, then tried again.
"I'm ... currently in Morganville, staying with Myrnin." He looked down at his shoes. "But I'm not stupid. I know I can't stay there. But I'm not sure where I'm going to be able to go."
Maybe there was an orphanage for wayward vampires who happened to be almost-thirteen, he thought cynically.
He reached up, playing with the charm on his necklace, and looked away. "So I'm not exactly sure I'm going to be hanging out with Myrnin that long either."
He shifted on the beanbag, looking up at the ceiling. He sounded like he was stressing over all of this, but after several long breaths, he closed his eyes and tried to think of what to say.
"Do you want to just ... go in a room or something?" he asked. He needed to blow off steam.

In some respects, Nico's words were very comforting. If he really did know Myrnin better than Samuel did then maybe there was something he could say on the matter which might at least give Samuel a chance in this whole chaos.
"Alright," he said, unwilling to admit he was too much of a coward to ask. He didn't know how well Myrnin would even find the opinion. Sam could figure out pretty easily that the vampire wasn't good with children. But it was something that at least gave him pause. He didn't even think of the chaotic time possibilities anymore. It was just enough, he supposed, that here he could relax. Here he didn't have to worry if he had a roof over his head (though he had a low and distant fear that he might have need of food).
A room was the only thing he could think of for a distraction. And then Nico had his hand extended and Sam was very distracted. He looked at it, remembering Nico saying he didn't like being touched. Then Sam noticed the small pulse at his wrist. Then he was taking the hand and ignoring both of the things, being helped up. He could feel the life under Nico's hand and he felt his palm tingle, and for some reason he couldn't think straight.
Should he say thank you? Or was this too small a gesture to say thank you for? Should he at least smile? Or was that too much too?
Several flustered thoughts flew through his head and by the time he decided on smiling he also realized he'd held onto Nico's hand for about three seconds too long. He let it go and instead turned to head for the hallway. Then glanced back, to check that Nico was following. The palms of his hands looked a bit red. He really hoped he wasn't blushing.
He didn't trust his tongue to work (Gosh Sam, it was just hand ... but that hadn't stopped him from being simulationiusly happy that Nico had offered it and terrified that he'd wished to bite him). So instead he just found a door and pushed it open. He hoped Nico didn't think he was brushing him off. He hoped Nico would follow.
The scent of dust and mice and corn hit him at once, full in the face, and Sam nearly took a step back when he ran up against it. (Even the smell of mice blood made him hungry.) But Sam had to blink several times so his eyes would adjust. The light had dropped to. The House had at least been decent enough to not roast him alive. Instead, he looked up to see that the sun was setting and mostly obscured by clouds. He could feel it against his hands a bit - a painful stinging - but not a lot. A couple more minutes and he'd be fine.
And then he noticed, rather than his surroundings, that he was missing the t-shirt he'd been wearing.
"What," he said slowly. "Am I wearing?"
He turned slowly, looking down at the clear costume. When he looked down, he could almost feel the weight on his head almost fall. He reached up, taking what was on his head off ...
It was a crown.
Which fit, considering he appeared to be wearing clothing fit for a medieval king. He was almost prepared to call them robes. And that meant the crown fit with the rest of the attire.
Halloween? Was that what the House was celebrating?

There would have had to have been something pretty unusual going on for Sam not to notice all the very telling signs of Nico's attention. As it was, this information was shoved to the back of his head in favor of paying far too much attention to Nico's outfit.
It ... was rather stunning.
And then Sam was just stunned.
"What ..." he started, about to ask what Nico was doing. He could almost feel his face burning, though this time it was almost with embarrassment. Part of him wasn't sure what to think and the other part - well, the other part almost liked the playfulness and wanted to go along with it. That part did not win out. Instead, it was the part which really, really wasn't sure if it wanted to deal with what was going on but had a very real feeling that he would have to soon.
"Demeter?" he asked instead, looking out at the corn maze just in case Nico could see his expression. He assumed she had something to do with corn. He was also assuming that she wasn't part of the reason that Nico's heart was currently all he could think about and certainly not the reason that Nico was dressed how he was dressed.
I don't need this shoved down my throat, House, he thought, his own mental voice whining in his head. He felt like he was in far to much in his own world to really give this the attention it deserved ...
He wondered if Nico was thinking the same thing.
What could he say, anyway? What could he possibly think of that wouldn't sound awkward or wouldn't be a clear change of subject. Because how would that look, honestly? Obvious, that's what. And Sam ... he didn't want to hurt Nico. The mere idea of it made his hands visibly tremble.
He swallowed again, then said, voice wavering up about six pitches and then down deeper than it had ever gone before on the very last word, "Do ... do you like me?"
The words had all the appropriate implications to it.

It was like there was a small earthquake within Sam's chest, where each wave shook him to the core in unpredictable jerks and dips, nearly rocking him off his feet. There was very little he could do to keep his lips from pressing together and showing his distress. It took even more effort to stop from having his own emotions spill out from his mouth, with his own feelings (however confusing they may be) spilling out with them.
He felt like he'd been punched.
No. Of course not. He must have read things wrong ... Why would Nico like him?
That's what he wanted to think. He wanted to have this all just be some silly mistake that could be brushed aside. But that would have been very foolish. He didn't know what else to do - he hadn't exactly ever been in a situation where someone might actually care about him - even just the beginnings of it - like that and him be there to witness it. Crushes weren't exactly something he saw from the other end. He'd never been forced to hear every beat of another person's heart.
And the shock Nico had within his eyes when Sam confronted him hurt Sam too.
"I'm sorry," he said instead, trying to will the dryness from his words. If he had ever planned on talking about the gods that were in Nico's world than that was out the window now.
He could hear Nico lying. But what was he supposed to do about it? What could he say?
Would saying nothing just be better?
"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," he said, trying to figure out if there were any right words to say around now. "But if ... if ... it's alright ... you don't have to ..." What was he even trying to say? There was so much moving around in his brain that he honestly couldn't begin to think about this and a room.
(And the roar that told him he needed food. Pounding in his ears and his chest and his throat like someone had set up a drum set.)
"You don't have to lie," he breathed. This was a confirmation that he reciprocated anything, but he wanted Nico to be free to respond how he felt ... so maybe Sam could start figuring it out himself.

Sam wished that he didn't have a way to figure any of Nico's personal feelings out either. He looked away, out at the corn maze, and was unable to keep the feeling of sorrow out of his eyes. He wanted to change, wanted to be able to fix what was wrong with himself ... But he couldn't.
He pressed a hand to his mouth, almost like he was holding in a sob. There was a pounding in his chest and in his head, and it wasn't his heart. It was a darker, wilder feeling that had nothing to do with how he felt about Nico or even what he had said. It was perfectly in-tune with the rhyme in Nico's own chest.
"I didn't mean ..." he started and wanted to say more. He wanted to say something ... something that wasn't just an agreement with Nico to forget it and that they could move on.
"I never told you how I feel about it," Sam said, through his hand. "You ... never even gave me a chance. I get why - But ... You assume ..." He didn't sound angry, but he did sound conflicted. He could hear how difficult this was for Nico and he couldn't breath. He pressed his hand further over his mouth.
He took a shaky step closer to Nico, leaning forward as if he was trying to catch the demigod's eye. In the darkening room, it was almost impossible to tell that Sam's eyes were different colors. Brown and red wasn't that far off in the dark.
The small vampire looked concerned, but he was also trembling. There were small instances where he almost looked like he was going to cry. Wasn't what Nico wanted important? Sam believed it was. But what he wanted was important too.
Pity he didn't know what either of those things were. Nico had said two very different things. Sam didn't even know what he wanted, other than he wanted both of them to be happy. But what did that even mean?
His hand still over his mouth, he said, "I don't know -" He started, but the pounding in his ears was too loud to even hear himself say anything. When had Nico gotten so close? Sam didn't remember moving closer to him.
He didn't say anything. He didn't breath.
Something happened regardless.
He didn't give in, but something in him broke. It was so easy to break. There wasn't even time for him to look sorry. The pounding in his head had reached an all-time high and it overwhelmed him, rushing through him like an oncoming wave.
And if there was some control that Sam still held, it was tossed aside. Sam was hunched over, shaking a little ... and then moving so fast that he barreled into Nico at full force. It was hard to tell how long Sam had been covering his face and if he had been trying to hide his fangs, but now they were out and Sam seemed to have full intention of using them.
It took him less than a second to find a part of Nico's skin which wasn't covered by the costume, but when he did there was no hesitation. The fangs met Nico's skin and bit down.
Sam was a vampire, but he was also very, very new. There were some tricks which vampires innately had to aid in hunting, but Sam was like a predictor that hadn't quiet learned to hunt. Around Nico, there would have been a sense of haziness, but it would have cut in and out like a badly tuned radio. Myrnin could have lulled someone to sleep with his hypnosis. Sam would have been lucky if he could have gotten someone to yawn. But it still would have dulled Nico's reaction time.
Sam was very young by vampire standards. But he had a grip like iron and seemed to have the full intention of feeding off Nico's blood for as long as he needed to. But by his side, his free hand trembled and he almost seemed like he was about to cry, the corners of his eyes gaining small dots of blood for tears.

There was a long, desperate heartbeat from the creature that Sam was feeding off. And in his current state, those descriptions were the best he had. It was simply a heartbeat of a living creature that would die so that Sam could continue existing. It was a principle that many humans lived on, only the difference was the creatures they fed upon were four legged and incapable of speaking in the same language as them.
But the primary similarity was the same. Sam wanted to survive, and as far as his own body was concerned he hadn't been doing so very well. Days without food and he had held on as long as possible. There had been nothing standing in his way. He had been surrounding by Time Lords with poisonous blood and other vampires whose blood was less than ideal. And then there was Nico, his heartbeat tantalizing and close and completely unaware of the danger. Trusting was something for humans. Sam had bigger priorities.
At least, he did in this state of mind. And this state of mind was just as much a part of him as the part that Nico had been talking to a second ago.
That didn't mean, however, that Sam wasn't feeling - that this didn't hurt him. Because it did. But it was blotted out by the white noise of surviving. Surviving was the reason that he was a vampire. Surviving meant this. It meant that, some times ... sometimes you killed.
There was a hazy feeling of awareness coming back to Sam as well. There was the taste of blood in his mouth and he had tasted it before, but never this. It was human and whole and was richer than chocolate and brighter than neon and if he could have found a way to describe it better than that he would have ... and then he would have spent the remainder of the awareness feeling guilty for it. It didn't taste like metal, at least not how humans tasted it. And he could still remember. And what he remembered was he was hungry. And what he remembered was ...
Nico.
He blinked several times, eyes focusing on his surroundings in bursts of recognition. What was ...?
Part of his brain revolted just at the thought of what he was doing, what was going on. He couldn't honestly wrap his head around it. Then he had to, was forced to, as he reflexively swallowed and was reminded of what was real and what wasn't.
He almost pulled back without thinking. Then, arms now holding Nico in a grip that was still just as strong but wouldn't actually bruise or break anything, he eased away. He still didn't know how to retract his fangs on command. They were muscles he still hadn't worked out. If he was honestly, his movement was still quick, but shaky. Then he stumbled away, hands and arms trembling (and licked his lips of the taste of blood).
He was crying. He wasn't sure when he had started. But his body was wracked in great, heaving sobs and he could only just see through his lashes. Both of his arms wrapped around his body, hugging his midsection. He'd backed up, nearly running into the stalks of the corn maze, but then he moved forward again and almost walked back to Nico again. Almost. Sam's world felt shattered, and he was sure it wasn't the only thing. There was nothing here which he could say now. No difference to what he had done. But Nico was alive. He knew that much. But even Sam could tell that his heart had slowed too much for the sort of stress he should be under ... and there was a warm feeling in Sam's chest that made him feel sick. What had he done?
But he knew. He knew it as well as he knew his own name. He had bitten Nico. Had drunk his blood. Had hurt him in more ways then one. And nothing ... nothing was going to be the same.

If there was something more painful than anything Sam could remember, it was the barbed words which had just been directed at him. He slowly sunk to the ground, covering his mouth again only this time it was to try and hold in a sob. Slim trails of blood danced at the edges of his eyes and then feel past the edge and onto the sides of his hands. Once the tears started, they wouldn't stop. He didn't feel full, he wasn't able to push away the final vestiges of hunger. If he payed attention, he could still smell the blood pulsing through Nico's neck (still remember the taste of it). But he wasn't capable of paying attention. Fractured pieces of memories and awareness were brightly arrayed in his own head. Nico's words were stakes. Fitting. Since Sam wished he was dead. Wished that he could have death just so he blank out and escape.
So Nico didn't have to look at the monster.
"No," he whimpered. "No, no, no. Never. No." The words rolled over and over across his tongue and each time the words made less sense until he'd devolved into sobbing again.
He couldn't leave Nico alone. He couldn't have even moved.
He was well aware that the tears he was crying right now had been Nico's blood. Now it was some corrupted form of it, but Nico's blood nonetheless. Stolen, betrayed, taken from its original owner and Sam couldn't even bring himself to notice the brief relief from the white-noise of his own hunger. He had nearly killed Nico. He had, he was certain. And even just looking in that direction of the fraction of knowledge was enough to make the sobs redouble. Sorry would never fix it. He knew nothing ever was. Nico hated him.
And Sam didn't blame him at all.

Maybe it was some mercy of the House or maybe it just wanted more chaos in a room that already included too much of it. Either way, someone else blinked in. His hair was cropped short, which was probably one of the biggest changes that he had undergone in the whole three years he had known Nico. His hair was still the same dark brown, though thanks to the length it included several small curls that almost looked as bad as Sam's hair. Even he had gotten the Halloween costume treatment, though that might have been debatable since there wasn't much the House could dress him in that wasn't something he'd wear on every other regular day. So he was dressed in a lab coat and was wearing a pare of safety googles over his eyes. This magnified them just a bit.
He was also wearing Strider's shoes. You know. The red ones with the stripes. Which was probably the only part of the outfit that might have possibly come from his own world. The rest of it just had him looking like a mad scientist, including a bubbling beaker that seemed to have replaced something else he had been holding in his hands, since he waved it around a bit before he caught onto what had happened.
Then he looked over at Nico and Sam and half froze.
"Ooooookay," he said, hesitantly, worry masking every part of his voice. The beaker dropped and rolled away, what looked like dry ice rolling out of it as it ended up in some part of the corn. The vampire didn't exactly seem that conflicted to who he went to first. He would have liked to assist both the boys at once, but Nico was the one with the injury on his neck. Myrnin leaned toward him, looking like he was about to fuss over him, but hesitated. "What happen?" he asked instead. If he was surprised about Sam, he was keeping that for later.

The pain that Sam felt was all emotional. By all accounts, he was healthy. This Myrnin knew. But that didn't mean that both boys weren't broken from whatever their previous interaction had been. As if Myrnin needed to guess what that interaction had been. He didn't even need to guess what had happened though. The evidence was clear enough.
Myrnin sighed and lowered himself to Nico's level, letting the demigod grip his hand. He knew what had happened. While he couldn't go so far as to say he knew what the conversation had been about, he did realize that there were a few things that he could tell.
The bite on Nico's neck.
Nico was right about Myrnin having been in that position before. He didn't think he'd ever loose those vivid memories. But he could take care of only one thing at a time. He had bandages on him, and he reached out, thought better of it, and then brought a couple bandages out of a pocket.
"Stay," he suggested, but very firmly. "I know." His voice softened for a fraction, then Myrnin admitted, "I have no magic cure to regain the blood you lost, but if you stay still for a while longer than you will be fine." Myrnin would probably know, since it was basically the species he was.
"It was an accident," he added, not a single bit of hesitation in his voice. "I know Sam."
He also knew a Sam who wasn't like the one who was collapsed just a yard away. Myrnin knew that Sam hadn't lost control for a while. So maybe a Sam from an earlier time?
He didn't question too deeply into it.
He also knew his answer wasn't satisfactory. But he left Nico for a second to scurry over to Sam. After a quick physical examination, where Myrnin looked Sam up and down, he was left to give his handkerchief. Sam took a very long time to respond, in which time Myrnin said, "If this is a situation about the bite, then you both ... have been through a lot." The statements he already knew the answer to. He could reprimand Sam until the cows came home, but he found himself ever so slightly surprised at Nico's reaction. He had known about vampires. But clearly the effects of Tartarus had been far more of a factor than the actual bite.
Not that Sam would know that. Myrnin hardly did - he couldn't image horrors like Nico had seen, but that was just the reason why he was like this.
He briefly got up, afraid to let go of Nico's hand but also knowing that Sam was crying not far away and he glanced over, his expression conflicted.
He said, voice gentle to Nico, "He went - goes - on hunger strikes. It was just the wrong place and the wrong time." He wasn't sure if Nico would believe him on that, but he wanted the demigod to know anyway. "It was nothing you said."
He used both of his hands to clasp the one Nico had given him. "I will be right back, I promise." His words were awkward, but gently.
Then he very slowly pried his hands out of Nico's.

Sam was still sobbing, but quietly. When Myrnin came over, he didn't even register it. When Myrnin placed a hand on his shoulder, he finally looked up. Myrnin looked disappointed ... and very different ... Something about his eyes too made Sam hesitate. They didn't seem right. They were the same color, but held far less awkwardness than the Myrnin back in his world.
Myrnin found a tissue in a lab coat pocket - somehow the labcoat still contained a lot of his stuff so long as it might possibly be someone who was wearing an actual lab coat. He scrubbed at Sam's eyes without any prompting, saying lightly, "Stop crying. It isn't doing anyone any good." It sounded bad, but right now it was practical. Sam had damaged whatever relationship he'd had with Nico by biting him and if that meant that the boy was just going to cry for a while then there wasn't much use in anything which had happened. Myrnin didn't want Sam attacking Nico again just because he'd cried himself out.
Sam didn't stop, but he did swallow down more and more sobs. They choked his throat and clogged his vocal cords, making it impossible to speak. But Myrnin stayed next to him, carefully waiting for the tears to stop. They did after a second, Sam clutching at his knees and looking at Myrnin with what might have been blame and pure hopelessness. Both of them knew why. Sam was blaming Myrnin for not being there, for not stopping him from hurting Nico. Myrnin knew that there wasn't much way he could have controlled that, but he still understood. Then there was the fact that Sam was blaming himself. He had lost control. He had refused food until he had snapped. It was his fault. But that didn't change the fact that being a vampire was abhorrent to him. And Myrnin couldn't change that either.
"Please," hiccuped Sam. "Please." But neither of them really knew what he was asking for. Maybe just asking the world to be fair.
Myrnin squeezed his shoulder and muttered, "Look ... I need you to hang in there." Sam's fangs had retracted at some point, which was a good sign. He wasn't starving. But Myrnin still said, "Stay over here." He didn't want Sam to attack Nico again. He also didn't want to risk his charge getting attacked either. Nico was weak, but he was capable. Both the boys needed space, though he doubted in a room much space could really be provided.
He didn't need to say a thing to Sam. Didn't need to chastise him. Sam would already be aware of the consequences. It was just a good thing that he hadn't killed Nico.
Myrnin made no comment on the fact that, by rights, Sam should have killed Nico. Sam was a young vampire and they usually didn't stop feeding until they had killed someone. There must have been one pretty impressive conversation going on before Sam had attacked Nico if Sam had been able to stop himself so quickly.
Myrnin would have to ask what had been going on later.
"You need to breath," he said to Sam, aware that this comforted humans and that Sam still had a clear memory of humans to take comfort in it.
Then he moved back to Nico. He sat down beside the demigod, glanced at Sam, and then leaned toward his friend instead.
"Alright," he said. He rested one hand near Nico's in case he wanted to take it again. "I wouldn't blame you for defending yourself ... but I would have you know that Sam ... For lack of a better explanation he was turned against his will. He is a vampire only because he did not want to die, not because he could deal with it. That doesn't make what happened right, but I know he had very little control over it. Yet. I am sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"He wishes the same," said Myrnin, his voice quiet. But that was a useless endeavor. Sam would be able to hear. Myrnin just scooted closer to Nico and let his shoulder (though he was about a head and a half taller than the boy by his estimation) bump into Nico's and stay there for a second. It was meant to be friendly, or at the very least reassuring. He didn't know if he'd succeeded. But even still ...
"He can't change though," he said, glad that Nico couldn't tell the difference between a good lie and the truth. The fact was ... Sam could ... but then Sam might die. And Myrnin was already dealing with that as a problem in his own world without setting off whatever version this was. "Even if he wants to. And he does." He squeezed Nico's hand and added, "I know this is about Tartarus more than anything. But Sam being a vampire is a state of fact. You have to learn how to be one just like you have to learn how to be human. He will."
He didn't know if Nico understood what that meant, but it wasn't a promise. It was simply fact. If this Sam had any sort of guidance, then he would learn in time. Possibly in more time than Nico would notice.
He could hear Nico's heart accelerating and he hesitated, not checking on Sam with his eyes, but using his ears instead. But the boy had remained where he was.
Hesitantly, Myrnin reached out, his free hand pressing against Nico's chest. He knew the boy didn't like to be touched, so the contact was light and could easily be pushed away. His eyes were soft as he acknowledged what Nico said. Something, however, seemed to happen with Myrnin. Like a warm was spreading from his hand, but not exactly like that. "Feelings are needed," he said. "They're what makes you human." His voice didn't hitch, but it did wax melancholy. The warm feeling spread around Nico, comforting. It didn't get rid of his feelings. But it did, somehow, alleviate them. It was the closest thing Myrnin had to mimicking a hug, when he know the demigod didn't want to be touched or feel trapped. "And it is so important for you to be human right now, Nico. If you need to tell Sam anything, let it be in your own time. There are a lot of things that are between you. A long story. But right now, just focus on keeping your mind safe."
Myrnin's eyes remained green, but they had lightened several shades. Not that this was easy to see behind the reflective coating that made vampire eyes almost catlike. Myrnin's hand remained where it was, still keeping up whatever emotions he was twisting from Nico. He probably should have asked permission, but Nico had sounded so panicked and Myrnin honestly couldn't think of anything else. Emotions were difficult. He knew that he shouldn't change them, because people needed to handle them, but he wasn't above offering some assistance. Some dullness to the pain and the dizziness. 
He breathed out slowly, then said, "Nico ... do you want me to take away your memories of Tartarus?" The offer hung in the air, like a fragile bird. Myrnin seemed far more hesitant than he probably should have. What he was offering might help Nico - but it would hurt himself. He hoped he wasn't alluding to that. He wanted it to be Nico's choice. But he also didn't think he could physically take a piece of Nico away. Well ... he knew that he could, but should he? He knew the answer to that one too.

The hand that Myrnin had against Nico's chest slowly moved up to his shoulder and then further up until it was resting on the top of his head. It was a gesture that Myrnin seemed to find awkward, but one he might have only recently learned (perhaps directed toward a different Sam). He ruffled Nico's hair just a little, and a small smile - a sad smile - brushed his lips. "We can understand that," he said. Maybe Myrnin could understand it anyway. There was a lot of things which had happened in his life and not all of them were things he wanted to remember.
The warmth from his hand had shifted, like a light breeze was blowing against Nico's face even though there would have been no pressure of air.
"I'm sorry you don't know," Myrnin said, sounding slightly at a loss as to what to say about that. He refused to make Nico's choices for him ... even if that was what Nico might want him to do. This was an offer too important for such a thing. He also didn't think he could really, with a clear conscious, offer more information for if Nico did say yes. Or if he did say no. Big decisions though they were, Myrnin knew that his own personal ... complications ... would also cloud the choice.
"Please don't be sorry. I would ..." Myrnin couldn't meet Nico's eyes and he cast a glance around. Then let one shoulder rise a bit in a shrug. "I would be sad if you apologized for speaking your mind."
He had briefly glanced at Sam. He was sure the boy was listening. The crying had ceased and now the boy was huddled just out of the way, his head braced against his knees and his hands holding the back of his neck. He rocked gently.
Myrnin glanced at Nico again and murmured, "I can't give you your sister back. And the other part, the boyfriend, isn't in my hands either." Not like he'd ever want it to be. He wouldn't have made a very good ... what was the word? Was 'match-maker' still in style or would that have given the wrong impression?
He pushed the thought away. It was only there so he didn't have to think about what he had said to Nico.
"But ... I do believe you would be without nightmares for a while." He rubbed at Nico's head again, though it was really clear he had no practice in this. The whole ... being reassuring and ... parent-y. "But that's up to you. Selfish or selfless ... I would hold neither choice against you."
But would Nico hold it against himself? Myrnin really couldn't say. There was too much about Nico's world for Myrnin to know for sure - too much to truly see all the variables. But he didn't think ... he didn't think Nico would change that much. He was confident that he could ensure that much, with the abilities he had. He just wasn't confident if Nico wanted that.
"Or would you prefer," he said, voice lilting a bit as he thought about it more. "If I simply ... lightened the weight. Left you with the ability to face your own fears on your own time." He inclined his head. "Left you with a small fraction of your memories of Tartarus. Simply ... place them in a box you would be unable to find until you were ready." His eyes seemed tired, even though his expression hadn't changed. He'd intended to do the latter part anyway, though far more completely than this new suggestion.
"I am sorry, Nico," he added. "That there are some things in life that seem impossible to handle. And, very often, make it very difficult to work out a way to handle them at all."
His throat almost closed up at the own bile to his words. They were words he found difficult to say because there were so many things in his past which he could not face. There were memories he had boxed away as only the owner of memories could. They were in boxes that were quickly reaching bursting point and threatening him daily.
Sometimes ...
Sometimes he wished he could reach the point where emotions couldn't touch him anymore just a little bit faster.

There was a soft smile to Myrnin's lip and he dipped his head. As he had promised, he had no intention of going against what he had told Nico.
"Alright," he said, his words were almost a whisper. He knew how difficult this choice had been for Nico. How unimaginably so. He squeezed the demigod's hand. He hoped - but he also knew - that Nico would make it through this anyway. There was no way that he didn't know that Nico was thinking of the fact that he might die soon. But Myrnin didn't believe that either. He remembered what it felt like to think your world was going to crumble into nothing. He didn't think that was how Nico's life would meet its end. But he had no way to prove that. Instead he dipped his head and sat back.
He wanted to say sorry again, but instead he just allowed himself to send (or rather manipulate Nico's own emotions enough to send) another fluttering of peace through the boy.
"Do you need me to keep doing this?" the vampire asked softly. His eyes were another shade lightly, but he was still willing to stay where he was. He breathed slowly, his own heart calm even when Nico's wasn't. But it wasn't like he had to work at it. He just had to focus his own heart to beat at that rhyme. It didn't reflect how he actually felt. "Or do you think we can stand up and get out of this room?" His voice was neutral enough that even if Nico wanted to remain here, there would be no blame in Myrnin's voice. He simply wanted to know what was best for Nico, that was all.
It was Sam who seemed to be done. He had been in the background, quiet and just as quietly biting his lip and seeming caught up in his own head. But now he glanced over. But he knew not to approach. Instead, he finally seemed capable enough of understanding his surroundings to want to run. He wasn't completely up to running, however. Instead, he shakily got to his feet and stumbled off in another direction, away from Myrnin and Nico into one of the paths of the corn maze. Myrnin stiffened and looked at Nico. He couldn't split himself in two. Instead, he called after Sam, "Samuel!" But the boy was already gone ...
Myrnin looked back at Nico, a look of hopelessness in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There were things in the House that could kill a vampire. And Samuel wasn't in a very good place right now either.

Stumbling to a complete halt, Sam looked at Nico in what might have been horror. He stumbled back a bit, looked down at his feet, and half covered his face with a hand. One eye looked at Nico, wide and very brown. He wasn't crying anymore, but there was a hint of red color where he hadn't completely wiped the passage of them away.
"Go away," he whispered. Isn't that what Nico wanted him to do? Why would Nico run after him if he really hadn't wanted him around.
Sam didn't blame him. There was no way that he could blame him.
Part of him, however, did feel like Nico should have known this would happen. There was nothing that Sam had kep hidden. He had said that he was a monster. It was Nico who hadn't realized.
But having Nico believe it ... that hurt more than Sam believing it.
Sam swallowed, though this time it had nothing to do with being hungry. Instead, it had everything to do with holding back tears.
"I ..." he shook his head. "I think if you just let me leave ..."
Maybe then Nico didn't have to deal with him.
It was then that Myrnin caught up. He wasn't breathing hard, but he was walking with a purpose. His steps were light, as if he was approaching a skittish animal. That, Sam supposed, was him. And he wanted to run, but he didn't.
"Really doubt that would be a good idea," Myrnin contradicted. "I think it would be better if we both went that way." He pointed off in the direction that Sam hadn't been heading in. But what did it really matter? It was a maze. They couldn't actually avoid getting lost.
Sam glared at Myrnin. The vampire, particularly an alternate version of him, had no right to talk to him like that. If he wanted to do everyone the favor of leaving, then couldn't he?
Myrnin stepped past Sam and looked down at Nico, sighing a bit. "And you need to stop shadow-traveling when you're not ..." He waved a hand about, mostly meaning healthy, but also 'not thinking straight' could have applied.
Sam winced. He hadn't even thought about the fact that Nico had appeared out of thin air. At some point, he had just stopped being surprised. How could he? Emotionally, he had bigger issues.
"Just ..." Myrnin said, still waving his hand. "One of you on that side and one of you on that side." He indicated opposite sides of himself. "Or do I have to carry both of you." He looked at Nico and Sam in turn.
Sam wanted to hit him. He also wanted to start crying again. Instead he settled for looking in the direction of one of the openings between the corn.

There was a stiffness in Myrnin's shoulders that he didn't seem able to shake. There was nothing much that he could say, knowing already what Nico and Sam were not in the best state of mind to keep up with his attitude.
He wasn't even sure if splitting up would work either. Would the House even allow it?
Sam wasn't completely aware of Nico's feelings on the matter, but if he was he would have understood. But he didn't, and Myrnin was distracting enough without Sam needing to. Instead he just glanced at the corn field, cut up into branching paths. The room had started out so light-hearted, and now here they were.
"I'm fine," Sam said instead. He clearly wasn't and Nico clearly wasn't, but he said it anyway. He didn't try to run away again, but he did still take several swift steps forward, shoes crunching against the wheat and corn stalks along the ground. He was making no effort to be quiet. Instead, he was just making sure that he could still hear Nico and Myrnin behind him. If they were going to split up that was fine. He couldn't deal with it anyway. He tuned them out, instead focusing on where they were going, glancing this way and that. He turned into a fork, not for any particular reason other than the fact that it looked shorter than the other turn off.
Myrnin had stopped speaking, so that was a change of pace. Instead he just glanced to his left, looking a bit awkward. He even scratched at his neck, as if that would do something.
"There's something up here," said Sam. Myrnin blinked. He hadn't expected that. He honestly hoped it was the exit. It would probably be easier. But Sam's voice seemed to quiet for that. Too full of emotions of someone who really didn't want to be dealing with this mess right now.
Myrnin took several steps forward down the fork in the maze and then noticed what Sam was talking about.
"Weird," he said. He wasn't actually sure if it meant anything.
He looked down, then over at Nico and then Sam, trying to see if Nico still wanted to split up again.
Then he looked down again.
A single set of glowing red footprints, singed into the grass. Leading nowhere and starting nowhere.
Myrnin wasn't sure what to make of them.

There was the moment where Nico looked like he had been struck by lightning and all Sam could do was watch him, too afraid to really approach in case something bad happened. And there were several ways that something bad could happen.
Then Nico was on his knees and Sam half fell with him, though the distance between them was at least eight feet. Myrnin had leaned forward a little, though he seemed less worried than Sam was. His expression was one of almost one of curiosity. Then he looked off in the way that Nico was pointing.
"Alright," he said, not pressing Nico on what had happened. Sam looked like he wanted to, but was already swept up in the flood of what was happening. In this case, it was Myrnin walking off in the direction of the new fork that Nico had pointed to. Sam hesitated, tension in his arms, before he started following as well.
The turn off wasn't was dark, or at least dim in the case of the vampires. Myrnin was walking a bit ahead, turning his head this way and that as if he was trying to listen to something as he went. This stiooed fairly soon after he got half way down the path, yet another turn off ahead of them. He glanced back at Nico then, one finger raising to point at the corn around them. It was shifting, as if there was a wind which couldn't be felt going through it. It was almost horror movie worthy, if it wasn't for the fact that Sam could see everything so clearly.
"Maybe that should be worrying?" wondered Myrnin, though he didn't sound that worried. Instead he inclined his head, still listening to the stalks hit into each other over and over again.
Sam was the one who saw the small shapes between the plants. He squinted, trying to see what they might be. Because he was so focused on these shapes he didn't notice the other things which were going on on the actual path that they were on. Another set of glowing footprints had appeared, slightly spread apart as if the markers had been swiftly walking. Sam didn't notice, still squinting at the corn stalks and the dirt below them. It was Myrnin who cautioned, "Nico ..." As he too tried to spread his attention between the two things.