Chapter Text
Nico and Gio chatted for the rest of the morning until Gio announced that he was ready to go and get his fresh air for the day. He used his motorized stair chair to get to the second floor, then had Nico assist him in climbing up a second shorter set of stairs to the roof.
“When Adriano first got here, I hadn’t been up to the roof in ages,” Gio said, climbing each step painfully slowly. “I can still barely manage these damned stairs without help.” He leaned heavily on Nico, who was struggling to find a way to assist without coming across as freakishly strong. He could easily lift him, but was forced to hold back in order to keep up mortal appearances.
When they made it to the rooftop, Nico gasped with delight. Whoever had gutted the house’s interior hadn’t bothered removing the concrete flower pots and the patio furniture that had been on the roof since his grandparent’s time as owners. It was a small space, but it meant a lot to see something familiar after so much had changed.
“This is awesome!” Nico said, helping Gio settle into a patio chair to rest. Obviously he was in his nineties and had limited energy, but it was still alarming to see how frail his cousin was. He knew they only had a few weeks together, but he’d hoped the weeks would be active and social. Gio’s eyes were drifting shut like he was already at death’s door.
“Are you alright?”
“Just need… A minute…” Gio said. “Bring me my book and my blanket.”
Nico hadn’t noticed the cold, but it was February and the air was damp and chilled. He dashed down to Gio’s bedroom, the room their grandparents had once slept in, and located a pillow and a blanket for his cousin. He took the liberty of warming up the blanket with magic, remembering that he was in a competition.
He grabbed the book by Gio’s bedside and brought everything to him upstairs.
“How did you get the blanket so warm?” Gio asked, feeling the toasty fabric while Nico tucked it around his frail old legs.
“I told you. I’m gifted,” Nico smiled, arranging the pillow behind Gio’s back and handing him the book. He looked out over the short railing, watching the boats drift along the Grand Canal a few streets over. The sky overhead was grey and cloudy, and the lagoon was murky and dark. “Will you be warm enough? It’s a little chilly for reading.”
“I won’t be up here long. But I get stir crazy without fresh air,” Gio said. “I don’t leave the house often, so this is the most excitement I get lately.”
“When you do leave, where do you go?”
“Adriano takes me to the doctor once a month,” Gio said. “That’s it.”
Nico leaned against the railing and looked at the dead plants in the flowerpots. They looked just as sad and withered as his cousin.
“Do you have any friends?” Nico asked, knowing the answer would be no.
“All dead,” Gio said. “No family either. I’m just waiting for death to take me, too. Hopefully it will be soon,” he sighed wistfully.
“Why do you think I’m here?” Nico said under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Hey, remember when I said I worked for the anti-isolation department? Or whatever?”
“You said you were from the anti-elderly-loneliness committee,” Gio said. “Why did I remember that and you didn’t? I think you’re the one with dementia,” he said, chuckling to himself.
“Ha. Maybe,” Nico said, wondering if Gio might have misdiagnosed. He seemed completely lucid so far. “I’m an expert at making elderly people less lonely. I want to get to know you and find out what you enjoy doing. Maybe we can add some more fun activities into your routine. You know, spice up your life. What were your favorite hobbies when you were younger?”
“Smoking, drinking, and playing cards,” Gio said. “And chasing women, although those days are long behind me.”
“I can’t help with the women, but those first three things? No problem,” Nico said. “Let’s play cards tonight.”
“Do you play Scopa?” Gio asked hopefully.
“Obviously,” Nico said. “And I want to play Mythomagic.”
“Mythomagic? Those old cigarette cards?” Gio said, screwing up his face in remembrance. “My cousin used to be obsessed with collecting those things. There’s probably some lying around here somewhere.”
“I’ll try to find them,” Nico said, growing excited. “I think I left a stash in my old room. Also, remember that old game with the marbles we used to play? The one where we knocked them out of the ring? We used to play up here sometimes. We’d draw the ring right here,” He said, tapping the floor with his shoe.
Gio stared at him.
“What are you talking about?” He asked, a glazed look of confusion in his eyes.
Nico realized he’d gotten carried away with reminiscences and had gone too far.
“Uh, I– I was saying we should play Scopa later,” he said. “Right?”
“That’s not… I thought I heard something else,” Gio said, looking troubled. “My mind is going. I think I’d like to be left alone for a bit.”
Nico felt terribly selfish. Gaslighting an old man into thinking he was losing his mind was twisted and unequivocally wrong.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, genuinely remorseful, and internally cursing his own big mouth. “I’ll leave you be.”
Nico dashed downstairs, determined to pull himself together and focus. Gio didn’t have long to live; Nico could wax nostalgic with him later once they were both in the Underworld. For right now, he needed to keep Gio happy and healthy, and he was already screwing it up.
Nico walked into the kitchen to see Adriano leaning over the sink eating a chocolate cornetto in silence. There was something inherently pathetic about the sight.
“Hi,” Nico said.
Adriano jumped like he’d just been caught doing something illicit.
“Why are you eating that over the sink?” Nico asked.
“Crumbs,” Adriano said, his mouth full of pastry.
Anyone that tidy was already a better housekeeper than Nico. Maybe it was for the best that Adriano stuck around for a while; Nico didn’t relish the idea of being a servant in his own house. Cleaning wouldn’t take much effort for him, but he’d rather focus on hanging out with Gio and let someone else handle the dirty work.
He caught sight of another cornetto and an untouched cup of coffee on the countertop.
“Is that for me?” He asked.
“If you like,” Adriano said casually.
“Wow. Thanks,” Nico said, taking them. “Sorry I almost got you fired.”
Adriano shrugged, turning back to the sink. Nico took his food and headed upstairs to his mother’s old bedroom. As expected, the room was completely empty of furniture, which saddened him, but he didn’t let it get him down as he headed out to the little balcony on the far side of the room.
He sat cross legged on the small concrete ledge. It was too small for furniture, really meant just for standing and looking out at the canal, and he was surprised by how tight of a squeeze it was to fit. He remembered it being bigger, but then again, he’d grown a lot since the last time he’d been out there.
For a while he sipped his coffee and enjoyed looking out at the familiar view of his home city. From this vantage point, things looked much the same as they’d been in the forties; roofs didn’t change very drastically, after all. Boats still drifted slowly across the canals, and the water of the lagoon glittered just the way he remembered. It was funny how much finding Gio had changed his attitude. Just yesterday he’d been devastated by how unfamiliar and ill-at-ease he’d felt in his hometown. Now that he’d rediscovered his lost family member, stuff like overtourism and an empty house didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. All these years he’d avoided Venice, afraid of what he might find there, only to discover that his city had tucked away a gift far more precious than he’d hoped to find. Time– a few short weeks to make new memories with his family, with his city. He’d keep these memories and cherish them for the rest of eternity.
He caught a glimpse of a group of women walking down the street on the far side of the canal, all of them wearing ornate gowns and masks with wigs towering to the sky. Nico kicked his feet in excitement; he’d nearly forgotten that today was the first day of the carnevale festivities.
He dashed downstairs to the kitchen, where Adriano was busy chopping vegetables and sauteeing onions in a pan on the stove.
“What’cha cookin’?” Nico asked, looking in the pan curiously.
“I’m making lunch,” Adriano said, glancing at him with annoyance. He was wearing an apron and had classical music playing on his phone nearby; Nico suspected that Adriano enjoyed cooking and didn’t like being interrupted. “Weren’t we meant to be in a competition? You don’t appear to be making any effort to contribute to the running of this household.”
“Gio and I are playing cards tonight,” Nico said. “Did you ever play cards with him?”
“No.”
“See? He already likes me better. I’ve got this in the bag,” Nico said, pulling out his phone. “Have you looked at the Carnevale schedule? Is there anything good going on tonight?”
“Are you taking the night off on your first day?” Adriano asked.
“If tonight is anything like last night, Gio will go to bed by six,” Nico said, scrolling through the calendar of events. “I’ll have the whole night free.”
“That’s not how this works,” Adriano said, slamming the knife so hard into the cutting board that Nico jumped. “You can get away with a few hours off here and there, but most nights you need to be here in case Gio rings his bell in the middle of the night.”
“His bell?”
“Yes, he has a bell he uses if he needs something. Remember, his health is fragile and he has a lot of chronic conditions. If he ends up firing me in ten days, you will need to take over, and I expect you to do an adequate job of looking after him. I haven’t cared for him all these months just so that you can neglect him in his last days.”
“I can handle it,” Nico said. “Relax. Besides, how do you know if it’s his last days? He could live to be a hundred for all you know.”
“I think we both know that’s not going to happen, Nico,” Adriano said sternly.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a very negative attitude?” Nico asked, reaching out to grab a slice of the bell pepper that Adriano was chopping. Adriano brandished the knife threateningly, but Nico was unbothered and grabbed a second slice of pepper, not wanting to give Adriano the satisfaction of deterring him.
“If you’re going to sit here and bother me, you can help,” Adriano said. “Here. Peel.” He shoved a bowl of freshly washed potatoes at Nico.
Nico opened a drawer and grabbed a peeler. On inspection, it appeared to be the same one they’d used back when he was growing up. He wielded the simple metal tool with a quiet delight, imagining nights when he’d sat and watched his grandmother peeling potatoes and chatting in this very kitchen.
“Do you like cooking?” Nico asked, making idle conversation to pass the time.
“I’ve come to enjoy it,” Adriano said, stirring the onions in the pan and pouring in a jar of homemade tomato sauce. “I didn’t know much when I started this job, but Gio had an old recipe book he let me use. I taught myself.”
“You seem like you know what you’re doing,” Nico remarked.
“The book is under the phone. You might find it interesting,” Adriano said. Nico dropped the peeler and started to stand up. “Not so fast! You can look at it after you’re done peeling,” Adriano added, picking up the peeler and thrusting it in Nico’s face.
Nico sighed and sat back down, accepting the peeler once more.
“Bossing me around,” he muttered under his breath. “I don’t work for you.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” Nico said, peeling faster. He tried to peel as quickly as he could without letting Adriano glimpse anything beyond normal human capability. Luckily, Adriano was engrossed in chopping basil and was not paying attention.
Once he was done peeling, Nico went over to the phone, which appeared to be at least fifty years old. It was made of yellowing plastic, and when he took it off the hook, there was no dial tone. It was so old the numbers had rubbed off the buttons.
“I miss rotary phones,” Nico said. “They were fun. When did that stop being a thing?”
“I don’t know,” Adriano said distractedly, taking a loaf of sourdough out of the oven. Nico picked up the recipe book that sat beneath the phone.
His grandmother, like a lot of women of her generation, hadn’t written most of her recipes down. Nico’s mother had hated to cook, but he remembered her making excuses for her lack of skill, blaming her mother for giving vague instructions and always measuring ‘until it felt right.’ Studying the recipe book, it looked like Gio’s mother, Nico’s aunt Terezia, had taken the liberty of recording some of the old family recipes in a tattered and stained old notebook. Gio’s wife and daughter had evidently added to the book over the years, making it a fairly solid representation of the dishes Nico had grown up eating.
“You’re making pepperonata?” Nico asked, reading through a recipe that used the same ingredients that he’d seen tossed in the pan.
“Yes.”
“It’s not the season for peppers,” Nico whined, slamming the recipe book shut. “That’s a summer thing. It’s not going to be good.”
Adriano strode up to him and snatched the recipe book from his hands.
“For your information, if you add a bit of sugar to the peppers, they’re almost as sweet as in the height of summer. You’ll barely notice a difference,” Adriano snarled. “You’ve got a lot of nerve to complain about a meal someone else is making for you. You are absolutely incorrigible, do you know that?”
“That’s funny, because a lot of people find me to be extremely corrigible,” Nico said, growing angry. “You know, I’m not even hungry anymore.”
“Fine! I’m not here to cook for you,” Adriano said, turning back to the stove. “Go hungry for all I care. It won’t kill you.”
“Fine!” Nico shouted, stomping out of the kitchen. “I can’t wait until I get you fired!” He added, slamming the door to the bedroom he and Adriano shared.
Once the door was closed, Nico took stock of what had just happened. That Adriano was a real piece of work, he thought to himself, dialing his phone while only half aware of what he was doing. How was he going to survive another ten days trapped in a house with this guy?
“Mom?” He said into the phone. “Mom, someone was being mean to me!”
Persephone’s voice chimed like beautiful bells on the other side of the phone.
“Who and where, my darling? I’ll come kill him right away,” she said.
“See, this is why you’re such a great mom,” Nico said, smiling. “You always know just what to say. It’s alright, it’s not that big of a deal. My new roommate and I are just getting on each other’s nerves, that’s all.”
“Your new roommate?”
“I’ll have to give you some context,” Nico said, “I’m at my old house in Venice. My cousin Gio is still alive! Barely. Isn’t that great?”
There was a long silence on the other side of the phone.
“How wonderful,” Persephone said, her voice sounding slightly choked. “I’m so happy.”
“Are you good? You sound weird.”
“Fine. And, um, what’s the trouble you’re having, love?”
Nico laid down on his bed and clutched his pillow tightly, kicking his feet against the mattress.
“There’s this other guy working here, he’s helping look after Gio, too– It’s a long story, but I told Gio I was here to be a health aide or something– So I have to room with this random guy and it’s so weird.”
“Is it?” Persephone asked, her voice oddly high pitched. Nico realized she might be getting the wrong idea.
“Not like that, Mom, he’s not cute or anything,” Nico said, laughing at the absurdity of the thought. “He’s just annoying. I barely know him and we’ve already gotten into an argument. That’s stupid, right? I don’t normally let mortals I barely know get under my skin like that. He’s just– I don’t know, I guess it’s not important. I’m just calling to complain. How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Persephone said. “Cerberus says hello. I had an interesting chat with Hypnos today. He says you’re not sleeping?”
“Ugh. I didn’t want him to get involved,” Nico said, rolling over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “It’s not his fault. I think it’s a Catholic thing. Tell him I’m working on it.”
“He’s not concerned about your well-being, honey. He’s still upset about Nemesis. I doubt he’d help you even if you begged him, I’m afraid.”
Nico had almost forgotten about Nemesis. He’d ripped the wings off her back with his bare hands. Funny how important that had seemed at the time; he barely thought about her anymore. It sounded like she still wasn’t over it. Not getting over things was kind of her specialty, so he wasn’t surprised.
“Does he expect me to apologize to her?” Nico scoffed. “Thanatos hasn’t brought it up.”
“Thanatos is in a difficult position, honey,” Persephone said. “He’s caught between you, his mom, and his siblings. He’s probably choosing his battles carefully.”
“His mom?” Nico sat up in bed, alarmed. “Nyx is mad at me?”
“If she was mad, you would know it. But I don’t think she’s happy that you hurt her daughter, no matter how badly Nemesis might have deserved it,” Persephone said. “When you get home you’ll have to speak with her. I’m sure you’ll be able to work it out. She was always so fond of you.”
“Right,” Nico said, his mind racing. Persephone didn’t sound very convincing, and he was concerned that the situation he’d return to in the Underworld might be more difficult to untangle than he’d expected. “Well, thanks for the heads up, I guess. I’ll call you later?”
“Yes, do keep me updated on how things go with Adriano,” Persephone said before hanging up.
Funny. Nico didn’t recall telling her that name.
A knock sounded on the bedroom door.
“Do you need something?” Nico shouted, scowling.
Adriano opened the door. Nico’s scowl deepened. Obviously Adriano had a right to walk into his own bedroom, but it was annoying to have to share space with someone he wasn’t getting along with.
“I just wanted to apologize,” Adriano said, adjusting his glasses nervously. “I can be a bit short tempered, and your presence here has me, erm,” he cleared his throat. “Tense. But I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you. I hope you’ll join us for lunch if you’re still open to it.”
“Oh,” Nico said, taken by surprise. “Uh. Okay.”
“Good,” Adriano said. “Sorry to disturb you.”
He closed the door.
Nico followed him out to the kitchen, feeling a sudden need to match him apology for apology. He’d been a saint in training for six months, and now he was an angel. Nico was seriously slipping if he was going to let some random mortal beat him to the punch when it came to doing the right thing.
“Hey,” he said, finding Adriano setting the table. “I want to apologize too. I’ve been so caught up in the excitement of being here that I’ve been acting kind of… I’m not sure what the right word is.”
“Bratty? Self-absorbed?” Adriano offered. “Rude?”
“I’m not being my best self,” Nico said, choosing not to take the bait that Adriano was offering. “I’m sorry. Let me set the table. You’ve cooked the whole meal. I can help, too.”
“Thank you,” Adriano said, smiling at Nico with a surprising amount of warmth. Nico was glad that they’d worked through their issue, but something about Adriano was starting to freak him out. Their argument had felt familiar, and it had happened disturbingly quickly, like the wheels of a cart falling into overused ruts dug deeply into a dirt road.
Nico set the table, and was still wondering about the strange events of the day when he heard a bell ring upstairs.
“I’ll get it,” he said, putting the last fork in place and heading up to the roof. He escorted Gio down to the lunch table, insisting that they all eat together. It seemed that Gio and Adriano hadn’t been in the habit of sharing meals, with Adriano eating alone in his room most of the time. Nico was determined that they’d eat together from then on, until he or Adriano (and he was sure it would be Adriano) were gone.
After a pleasant lunch, Nico went out shopping. He bought a bottle of grappa and a box of cigars, and spent a decent amount of time hunting down cookies and candy that were similar to what he and Gio had liked as kids. He was looking forward to an evening of card games and catching up, but when he got home, Gio was asleep in front of the TV.
“Shoot,” Nico said, seeing that his elderly cousin was out cold. “He doesn’t look like he’s up for a card game tonight.”
Adriano was sitting in the living room with Gio, scrolling through his phone while Gio snored.
“It’s three thirty,” Adriano said. “He usually naps around this time, wakes up for dinner and then goes up to bed. If you want to play cards, next time try to catch him before two. Once he puts the soccer game on, the day is basically over.”
“I’ll try for tomorrow, then,” Nico said, going into the kitchen to put his new purchases away.
“I’m going out tonight,” Adriano said, following him into the kitchen. “I’ll be back around eleven. You’ll stay with Gio, right?”
“But it’s the first night of Carnevale!” Nico exclaimed. “I want to go out, too!”
“You just got back from being out.”
“I was shopping. I didn’t do anything fun,” Nico complained. He sighed resignedly. “I guess I can stay in tonight. What are you going to do?”
“The water show–”
“I want to see the water show!” Nico gasped.
“That’s a shame,” Adriano said. “Because you need to stay here. Unless you have some magic trick that can allow you to be in two places at once, you’ll just have to stay home tonight. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get changed.”
After he was gone, Nico briefly considered whether he had lost a few brain cells from lack of sleep. Spending time with normal humans in his old mortal home was obviously getting to his head, because he’d nearly forgotten that he was, indeed, a god who could be in two places at once. He needed to get some rest as soon as possible, he told himself as he went to join Gio on the couch. Gods might not technically need to sleep, but he didn’t know any gods that didn’t do it anyways. His mind had been actively thinking thoughts for months on end without a break. That had to come with some consequences, even if the consequence was just that he got dumber with each passing day.
“Alright,” Adriano said, coming back out to the living room. He’d changed into a well-tailored and expensive looking dress suit. “How do I look?”
“Very nice,” Nico said politely. There was no amount of expensive suit that could cancel out Adriano’s big, shiny bald spot and paunchy belly, but he looked as good as could be expected for an out of shape middle-aged man.
Gio snorted himself awake.
“Whu- huh? Where are you going?” Gio said. He appeared to be quite bothered that Adriano was leaving him alone. Nico wondered how much time the two of them had actually spent apart in the last six months. It must have been very difficult for Adriano to get time away.
Adriano straightened his suit jacket and leaned down to re-tie the laces on his dress shoes.
“I’m going to a show,” he said. “Dinner is on the stove. I made pasta e fagioli. There’s some leftover bread from lunch as well.”
“You’re not having dinner before you leave?” Nico asked. “The show isn’t for another couple hours.”
“I have a dinner date,” Adriano said, smirking a little.
“Oooh!” Nico said, steepling his fingers and grinning. “Do tell! Is this a first date? Are they cute?”
“It’s none of your business,” Adriano said. “And it is definitely not our first date.” He seemed to be in a good humor; he must have really been looking forward to his big night out. “You two will be fine while I’m gone, right?”
“I don’t know,” Gio said skeptically, looking at Nico. “He doesn’t know about my night pills. What if he gives me the wrong ones?”
“The pill bottles are all on your bedside table. They have dosage directions clearly written on them. Nico can figure it out. Right, Nico?” Adriano asked.
“For sure,” Nico said confidently. “Don’t worry, guys. I can read and follow basic instructions.”
Gio’s mouth twisted skeptically.
“On second thought,” Adriano said, his brow lowering, “Let me measure out the dosages so it’s idiot-proof.”
“Thank you,” Gio called out gratefully as Adriano headed upstairs.
“I find that very insulting,” Nico huffed. “I’m a perfectly capable adult. I’ve done harder things than this.”
“You’ve got a certain charm, but you also seem like you’ve got your head in the clouds, young man,” Gio said. “I don’t foresee you winning this little contest we’ve set up. I can be hard on him, but Adriano does a good job looking after me. With the exception of when it comes to blenders.”
“What’s that all about, anyway?” Nico asked. “Something happened with a milkshake?”
“Do not tell him!” Adriano said, pounding back down the stairs. “And now I am running late; I have to go. Damn this knee of mine,” he said, rubbing it. “It’s acting up again. Alright, my water taxi is here. Goodnight, you two.”
He left, slamming the door behind him.
“Does he have a girlfriend?” Nico asked, too curious not to pry into Adriano’s personal life. Everything about the guy seemed to scream ‘single, lonely loser’. He was dying to know what kind of a woman or man would want to go out with someone who spent ninety-nine percent of their time with a nonagenarian
“He’s got somebody, but she’s never come around,” Gio said. “I’ve told him she’s welcome to visit. I’d love to see a beautiful woman around here; it’s been so long. Hell, I’d love to see three or four or five. Bring ‘em on!”
“Adriano’s probably scared to bring her here in case you steal her away,” Nico said, laughing at the way Gio was raising his caterpillar-like eyebrows suggestively.
“I’d certainly try,” Gio winked.
“Gio, for a man in his nineties, you’re still a scoundrel,” Nico said, unable to hold back peals of laughter.
“You’re not the first to tell me so!” Gio agreed. “Now bring me my soup! I’m hungry.”
Nico enjoyed chatting with Gio so much that he almost forgot he’d been planning to go to the water show. They had so many decades of life to catch up on, and although there was little of his own life he could share with Gio, he could have listened endlessly to Gio telling him about the exciting times he’d lived through.
Nico had never been able to accurately conceptualize just how long he’d spent in the Lotus Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. After all, he’d entered it at a weird time in his life, having been uprooted to the United States shortly beforehand. When he’d emerged from the hotel, the year on the calendar and the advancements in technology around him had been jarring, but the loss of his mother and, soon after, his sister, had impacted him far more. He’d never given much thought to the decades of progress and human history he’d just skipped over, but Gio had lived every day of that time. He’d experienced the end of World War II and the long period of recovery afterward, had lived during the Cold War and seen Italy develop from an impoverished agricultural monarchy into a modern democratic nation.
Of course, most of that time Gio had been chasing women and get-rich-quick schemes and spending the family’s money until it had nearly run out, so he’d paid little attention to the great machinations of history he’d had the opportunity to bear witness to. Nico didn’t mind imagining what it might have been like to grow up alongside his cousin and to live all of that life as a human, but it was a passing fancy. After all, he was gay. He wasn’t going to cry about missing out on the chance to face bigotry.
While Nico continued to converse with Gio on the couch, he split off a piece of his consciousness and headed out into the night, taking on a new, disguised appearance. It was nearly time for the water show to begin, and he didn’t want to miss it.
Disguising himself as a redhead with green eyes, Nico located Adriano in the crowd quickly; he’d gotten a seat close to the front. It was a little strange, Nico thought, glancing down at Adriano’s gleaming black dress shoes as he took the seat next to him. He recognized them as Prada shoes worth nearly $2000 dollars. For someone getting a government social worker’s salary, Adriano treated himself to some awfully nice things. His suit was bespoke and tailored, and his watch had real diamonds in it.
He snorted quietly to himself. It was no wonder Adriano and Gio got along well; they were both terrible with money.
The show began, and Nico was mesmerized by the display of lights, projections, pyrotechnics and water features enhancing the story of a fisherman whose dream was to win the Olympics and be rewarded with immortality on Olympus. Nico scanned the crowd, paranoid that a real Olympian god might have decided to attend the show that was so relevant to them, but he saw no sign of anyone he knew. He smirked to himself thinking of the mortals around him, blissfully unaware that there was someone in attendance who’d already won the gift of immortality for himself– although the poor fisherman in the show was working a lot harder than Nico ever had to win his immortality. All he’d had to do was overdose on ambrosia and look pitiful and it had been enough to make Persephone want to keep him forever.
At the climax of the show, however, Nico was growing increasingly impatient with the woman sitting in front of Adriano. She had taken a call at the beginning of the show, and Nico had employed the patience of a saint in order to keep from stabbing her. She’d ended the call, but she’d been texting consistently throughout the performance with her brightness turned all the way up, and to add insult to injury, her phone even made the little tapping sounds each time she hit a letter on the keyboard. Now, just when the fisherman was finally about to receive his eternal reward, she took yet another call. It was a wonder she could even hear the person on the other line with the fireworks exploding in the background.
Nico glanced at Adriano, merely checking to see if he was as annoyed as Nico was, but he wasn’t. Instead Adriano was livid, his eyes like burning coals of rage. Before the situation could escalate, Nico tapped the woman on the shoulder.
“Please get off your phone,” he said, striking as polite a tone as he could manage, “It’s very distracting.”
She glanced back and looked at him as though he’d just done something terribly offensive by asking her to have some basic decency.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, glancing balefully at his hand that had tapped her shoulder. She turned around and continued talking on the phone, her harsh nasal tone projecting louder in order to show Nico how much she didn’t care what he thought.
Nico counted to ten in his mind, summoning his old lessons in tolerance and endurance. He was tempted to let this woman know that a lot of people would sell their right arms to get touched by an angel, a service she’d just received free of charge. But giving the woman more of his attention wasn’t worth it– he didn’t have to be a saint to figure that out.
Suddenly and without preamble, Adriano reached over the woman’s shoulder, plucked the phone out of her hand, and tossed it into the lagoon.
Nico’s jaw dropped. The woman started screeching, but she was so violently shushed by the people around them that an usher quickly came and escorted her out of the rows of chairs.
Nico doubled over laughing. The look on her face had been a priceless caricature of pompous offense. Adriano took note of his laughter and sat with a satisfied grin for the last ten minutes of the performance, but when it was over, Nico caught sight of the woman standing by the exit with an usher, pointing accusatorily at Adriano.
“I think you’re in trouble,” Nico said, realizing they were trapped. There was no way out without walking past the ushers waiting to grab them, since they’d been sitting on a pier and needed to get back to the street. He heard the woman say something about calling the police. Nico doubted that the police had time to worry about wet phones during Carnevale, but he didn’t want Adriano to be detained by the event staff and get yelled at by that woman.
“Yes, I think I’ll have to talk to her, unless you know another way out of here,” Adriano said, looking like he was resigning himself to a long night of arguing. “It’s alright. It was worth it.”
He cracked his knuckles. If Nico had gleaned anything about the guy over their one day of knowing each other, it was that Adriano had a sharp tongue and little patience for nonsense. He could handle whatever was coming his way, but he’d just done something Nico had considered majorly awesome. Nico wanted to reward him.
“Come with me,” Nico said, determining that he’d handle Adriano’s reward god-style. “I know another way out. Try to keep up.”
He grabbed Adriano by the arm and practically dragged him off the pier, magically summoning an extra few feet of walkway that gave them room to dodge the ushers and the old woman. An echoing string of profanity followed them down the alley as they ran until the pier was out of sight.
“Thank you, that was helpful,” Adriano said, leaning over and panting. “Funny. I could have sworn we didn’t have room to get past them.” The run had left him short of breath, but he had a twinkle of amusement in his eye as he smiled at Nico.
“That lady was driving me nuts!” Nico said. “You were my hero back there. Let me buy you a drink.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Adriano said.
“I don’t mind,” Nico said. Gio had already gone upstairs to bed, and Nico faced another long, sleepless night. He’d rather while away the hours trying to pry into Adriano’s mysterious personal life than lie in bed listening to podcasts in the dark.
Adriano acquiesced, and they went into the first little wine bar they came across. It was packed with people dressed in costume, stopping in for an aperitivo before heading to a party later in the evening.
“I love this time of year,” Nico said, admiring the elaborate costumes, the towering wigs and mysterious masks everywhere. “I wish I’d thought to plan one out.”
Adriano did not reply immediately. Instead, he took his time browsing the wine list, and after a moment he ordered the most expensive wine on the menu. Nico’s brows lowered. That was inarguably rude, but he had unlimited money, so he didn’t feel empowered to complain about it. He supposed he had already known that Adriano had a taste for the finer things in life.
“Yes, the costumes do create a uniquely magical atmosphere,” Adriano said, turning his attention to Nico while their waiter poured the wine. Nico had to wait on Adriano to swirl the wine around and taste it before accepting it, which sapped some of the goodwill he had so recently felt towards the man.
“Are you planning to dress up?” He asked.
“Just for one night,” Adriano said, sipping his wine and smacking his lips appreciatively. “There’s a ball I’m attending on the last night of the festivities.”
“The Doge’s Ball?”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t be caught dead there,” Adriano said. “It’s full of normal humans– I mean, normal people. No, I’m going to a secret masquerade ball.”
Nico thought on that for a moment.
“I want to go to a secret ball,” he said, biting his lip. “Where is it? What time?”
Adriano frowned, gesturing with his wine glass.
“It’s hardly secret if I tell you just because you ask,” he said. “There are plenty of parties for a young person like you to attend. The secret ball is only for the most special of individuals.”
“And I’m not special?”
“It’s for the elite of the elite,” Adriano said. “For gods among men, so to speak. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“No, none of that makes any sense. Why do you get to go to this thing? Because you don’t exactly come off as someone particularly godlike to me,” Nico challenged.
“You don’t know who I am,” Adriano said archly.
“I could say the same thing to you,” Nico shot back.
“Mhm,” Adriano said, shrugging. “Well, I have an invitation and you don’t, so that’s really all there is to it.”
Nico was tempted to storm out angrily, but going home to sit by himself wasn’t going to make him feel any better. He didn’t mind Adriano’s attitude, if he was honest with himself. He’d spent so much time with saints with scrupulous manners that it was a bit refreshing to hang out with someone downright arrogant and rude. He knew Adriano took great care of Gio, and he was grateful to him for it, so there was only so mad that he could get at the guy. After all, he was about to get him fired.
“I’m just teasing you, Ni– Sorry, what did you say your name was?” Adriano said, correcting himself.
“I didn’t. It’s, uh, Gio. My name’s Gio.” Nico wanted to slap himself for that answer. He’d gotten out of practice with lying; untruths still fit awkwardly in his mouth.
“What a humorous coincidence. That’s my client’s name. I’m a home health aide for a senior gentleman,” Adriano explained, a smile of soft amusement on his face. “Anyway, as I was saying, Gio, I’m teasing you. I’m a normal human just like everyone else here, but my better half had a plus-one on her invitation. She’s far more exceptional in every way than I am.”
“If you say so,” Nico said. No wonder Adriano could afford to dress nice, he realized. The guy obviously had a sugar mama. The dude was an unimpressive specimen physically, but it was possible he was dating a much older woman, maybe even a geriatric former client. He imagined Adriano having a secret life as a gigolo and giggled to himself.
“How did you meet her?” Nico asked.
“I’m not interesting,” Adriano deflected, looking at Nico incisively. “Tell me about you. What brings you to Venice during Carnevale?”
Nico sipped his wine, buying himself time to put an answer together. He would see Adriano again, but the next time they met, Adriano wouldn’t recognize him. Whatever he shared tonight would cease to matter after the night was over; the person who’d spoken the words simply wouldn’t exist. Really, Nico could talk about anything he wanted.
“I was born here,” Nico said. “I lived here until I was eight, and then I moved to America. I’ve been in Italy for a while, but I’ve put off coming back here.”
“Why?” Adriano asked, leaning across the table to listen to Nico more intently.
“It just wasn’t the right time, and I wasn’t ready to see all the changes,” Nico said. “But I’ve had a rough year, and I had a gut feeling that there was something waiting for me here that might help me figure my life out.”
“Was there?” Adriano asked.
“Sort of!” Nico said happily. “I still have a relative living here, and I’ve been able to stay with him. It’s been good so far.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” Adriano said quietly. “Just one relative in town, then?”
“Yeah,” Nico said.
“You’re sure? Just one person?” Adriano asked again, raising his eyebrows. “You’re one hundred percent certain of that? You know, sometimes people you haven’t seen in a while look different the next time you run into them.”
“Nope,” Nico said. “I’m positive. I just have one cousin in town. That’s it.”
Adriano sighed, looking disappointed.
“Alright, then,” he said, sounding resigned. “What is your work situation like these days?”
“Ugh. Work,” Nico said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t get me started. Have you ever heard of quiet quitting?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
“Quiet quitting is when you do the bare minimum to keep from getting fired. You just get your work done and go home. No office politics, no socializing with coworkers, skipping the Christmas party. That sort of thing.” The word Christmas left a bitter taste in his mouth; he still hadn’t gotten over the fact that Brigid had forced him to miss the last one.
“That doesn’t sound healthy. It’s important to take pride in fulfilling your responsibilities.”
“Oh, I do!” Nico insisted. “I love the actual work I get to do. It’s the baggage that comes along with it that I’m sick of. My first job, I worked for my family business. I was working under the table, though, and someone else was getting credit for the stuff I was doing. That was dumb. I should have never put myself in that position, because I got zero respect. And when shit hit the fan, I was the first person to get thrown under the bus.”
Adriano didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on Nico intensely. Nico happily kept rambling on about himself, glad to have an impartial party to talk to who wasn’t directly involved in the events he was describing.
“After that I got a new job and I had really high expectations for it. I thought it was going to fix everything in my life. They were so organized and respectable, nothing like my family. But the office culture was intense and we were held to a really high standard, and I kept getting mixed messages about whether I had a future there. And upper management was impenetrable. I was about to quit when one of my projects suddenly did really well, and out of nowhere I got a promotion. I decided to take it and stay and see how it went.”
“You still work for them, then,” Adriano said quietly, a note of disappointment in his voice.
“Yeah, but I quiet-quit,” Nico said proudly.
“Quiet, loud, what’s the difference?” Adriano asked. “You’re still tied to them.”
“It makes a big difference,” Nico said. “If I quit, it would hurt me more than it would hurt them. In fact, they’d probably be relieved they didn’t have to deal with me anymore. And I’d lose access to all the benefits.”
“The benefits are that good?” Adriano asked. “You can’t just let it go and move on?”
“No, I can’t,” Nico said. “I’m still working through how I feel about it. I can’t explain it all in a way that makes sense right now. But I’ve kind of come to a conclusion. Well, maybe more like a theory. I haven’t really tested it out yet, so it might be nonsense. I want to try, though.”
“What is it? A theory about work?” Adriano asked curiously.
“More like a theory of life. Work, family, relationships, whatever,” Nico said.
“Ambitious,” Adriano snorted. “So you’ve got it all figured out, hm? And you’re, what? Nineteen years old? And that’s being generous.”
“I’m way older than that!” Nico said, although Adriano’s guess was dead-on if you were only counting the years he’d been awake.
“I’m not so sure. Go ahead and tell me your theory, then,” Adriano said, sipping his wine and looking down his nose at Nico.
Nico flushed hotly, sensing that he was being patronized. He felt self-conscious that his theory was indeed mere youthful posturing and that he hadn’t actually learned anything from his experiences at all. If that were true, it would be a bitter pill to swallow. He couldn’t bear to think that all his adventures had taught him nothing, but there was no arguing the fact that he hadn’t changed drastically as a person from who he’d been before. But that wasn’t entirely his fault; gods changed slowly, if they ever did, and even the slightest microevolution might feel like a reforging.
“I think,” Nico said, swallowing nervously. He felt like a lawyer presenting his case before a judge. “If I show up authentically, I don’t compromise on my values, and I have boundaries and stick to them, I’ll be okay no matter where I go, what I do, or who I work for. And if I don’t know how to do those things, I’ll keep having problems everywhere. ”
Adriano paused with his glass halfway to his lips, staring at Nico in surprise.
“That bad, huh?” Nico asked, tipping back his wine glass and draining the last dregs, then setting the glass back down on the countertop with a hard clack. “Okay. Cool. Great. You know, I think I left a pot on the stove, so I’d better leave now, goodbye.”
He felt utterly embarrassed. Adriano had no idea what he’d been through, he thought Nico had just had some work problems of late. Of course this middle-aged human who looked after the dying for a living would have no patience for a young man’s wrongheaded theories about life.
Adriano reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could walk out .
“Stay, please,” he said quietly. “I was just taking in what you said.”
Nico sat back down. Adriano eyed him with a warm light in his eyes.
“And?” Nico said, unable to keep from sitting forward in his seat, half-aware that he probably looked like a little boy shoving a sloppy crayon drawing in front of his dad’s face and waiting for praise.
“What you said sounded dangerously like the beginnings of wisdom,” Adriano said.
Nico gasped.
“I should start a podcast!” He said.
“How did you get that from what I said?” Adriano said, frowning. “If you start a podcast, I will take back my statement. As it stands, though, your self-knowledge is very impressive. It takes some of us much longer to come to those sorts of conclusions. Much, much, much, much longer…”
He trailed off for a moment.
“Anyway, you should be proud of yourself. I know that knowledge came at a great cost to you. I hope it gives you some solace to know how much you’ve grown from your experiences.”
Nico thought back on all that he’d gone through in order to learn the lessons he’d just shared. Betrayal, injustice, terror and torment, oppression and shame– and those were the easy bits. He was so deep in a flashback to Nero burning him alive that he almost didn’t catch what Adriano was saying.
“Nico, this can’t go on any longer. There’s something I need to tell you,” Adriano said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“Hm?” Nico said distractedly. “I thought I told you my name was Gio.”
Hadn’t he? He was second guessing himself. Being in Venice had his mind confused and overwhelmed with memory and feeling at every turn. You might say he wasn’t himself, but in fact he was too much of himself at the moment, with multiple lives overlapping each other to form a shifting, kaleidoscopic reality.
Adriano cleared his throat awkwardly.
“The truth is–” He began.
Nico’s eyes snapped up, fixating on a flash of movement over Adriano’s shoulder. Thanatos had just walked into the wine shop, and was coming towards him. He looked angry, his mantle swishing as he walked.
“I thought you were coming to Venice to find yourself,” Thanatos said, coming to stand behind Adriano’s chair. He gave his hair a sharp flick, sending the shining silvery tresses to rest behind his ear. “I should have known you’d end up finding a new man instead.” He looked down his long, sharp nose, making direct eye contact with Adriano’s bald spot. “He’s hideous.”
Adriano stopped mid-sentence.
“Are you listening to me? What are you looking at?” He said, turning around in his chair. Being mortal meant that Adriano could neither see nor hear Thanatos, and when he turned around to look at Nico, it was with a perplexed and anxious expression. “I’m trying to tell you something important.”
“This isn’t your usual type,” Thanatos added. “He’s old. You know, I think the mortals call this sort of thing ‘daddy issues.’”
“You’ve been hanging around with your brother too much,” Nico said, unable to help himself. There was no way Thanatos would know that term if not for Eros teaching him. Nico didn’t like the implication that the two of them were close again. He didn’t want Eros near Thanatos, nor anyone else he cared about.
“Excuse me?” Adriano said, speaking at the same time as Thanatos.
“Sorry, Adriano,” Nico said, speaking clearly for the benefit of both his mortal and immortal listener. “It was nice meeting you for both the first and last time tonight, but this conversation is over. Have a good rest of your night.”
He left Adriano looking distressed and confused and grabbed Thanatos by the arm, directing him out of the wine bar and into the street. Once they were under the cover of darkness, he reverted to his normal appearance and made himself invisible. Only he and Thanatos could see each other now, the two of them alone in the universe in the way only they could be.
“Why are you glaring at me that way? Are you angry I interrupted your date?” Thanatos asked.
“That was not a date, but I am angry you made me look like a nutcase in front of Adriano. You’re lucky I was in disguise.”
“You’ve been in disguise since the moment you set foot in this city,” Thanatos said.
“That’s not what I meant, but it doesn’t matter. Why are you here making trouble? Is this some desperate cry for attention because you miss me?”
Thanatos’ large gold-coin eyes began to glisten with tears.
“Oh, Than,” Nico sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m being too harsh.”
“I’ve had a terrible day, and I just wanted to see you,” Thanatos said, scrubbing tears from his eyes. “But if I’m disturbing you, by all means, send me away. I’m only your soulmate, not anyone who really matters.”
“You matter more than anything,” Nico said. “And I’m free all night if you want to hang out and catch up.”
Thanatos nodded, his face shadowed by a troubled look that set Nico’s heart racing. For so long Nico had been solving problem after problem, with each solution spawning more problems that also needed to be solved later, turning his life into a sad game of Whack-A-Mole where he was the mole most of the time. Finally he’d pared his day-to-day life down to a silly housekeeping competition, hanging out with his cousin, and killing time in Venice, and it felt like something in him was finally healing. It wasn’t personal, but Nico was really disappointed that Thanatos had come to throw a wrench in things. He needed more time.
He and Nico flitted up to the nearest rooftop and took a seat. Nico tossed a broken piece of roof tile into the canal, watching it splash with a satisfying thunk.
“I’ve found something out and I need to tell you about it,” Thanatos said. “Only I’m frightened that if I tell you, you’ll go on another angry revenge spree and everything between us will fall apart again.”
Nico’s stomach dropped. He already knew what Thanatos was about to say, and he didn’t want to hear it.
“I’d rather not tell you,” Thanatos said. “But Eros said that we have to rebuild the trust in our relationship, and full transparency is the only way to do it. I’m willing to tell you, but I hope you won’t ask me to. It won’t help anything for you to know.”
Nico swallowed hard.
“I’m not going to go on a revenge spree. I’ve had enough.” He remembered the anger that had fueled his early ambitions to become a saint, and how it had felt to tear the wings from Nemesis’ back and take them for himself, and to see Hermes cowering on the floor of the Vatican archives in fear of him. He’d earned his moments of satisfaction and he’d savored them, but in the end, they were only moments. Lasting happiness would only be found by moving on with his life, and he was ready for that part to begin. Any minute now, hopefully.
“I can guess what you’re here to tell me,” Nico said. “And you’re right. I don’t want to know. Don’t say anything more.”
“Really?” Thanatos asked, a breath of relief leaving him. “I’m very happy to hear you say that. I was dreading your reaction.”
“There’s nothing to dread,” Nico reassured him. “A lot of time has passed, and I’m ready to let some things go. Wherever my dad is, I wish him well, but I never want to see him again.”
“Your dad?” Thanatos asked.
“Yeah. I assume you were going to tell me where he’s been all this time,” Nico said, staring out at the moon gleaming brightly in the night sky. “But I’m okay with not knowing. If I know, someday I might be tempted to go and see him, and I don’t think it would do me any good. It’s healthier for us to just go no-contact. Besides, someone as old as him is more than capable of forgetting about me. He’s known me for less than a century. To him, that’s barely a blip. I bet he barely thinks about me anymore.”
As he spoke, he watched Adriano emerge from the wine bar on the street below, his head lowered, walking slowly down the street. For a moment he turned his face up to the roofline, and Nico imagined he was looking right at him. Instead, he realized that Adriano was merely looking up at the moon, the light of it illuminating his face briefly in the darkness. After a moment, the man turned his face back to his feet and continued down the street, eyes downcast as though something were troubling him.
“That’s nonsense,” Thanatos said. “I’ve only known you a few years, and I’m far older than your father. And yet the impression you’ve left on me is indelible. You are entirely unforgettable.”
“If you say so,” Nico said, smiling a little.
He’d been fishing for that compliment because deep down he couldn’t bear the thought that his father might forget about him. Nico wished he could reverse their places in the sad order of their lives. He only had one father, and there was no way to swap someone else into his childhood memories, no way to insert an alternate history where some other god had shaped his experience of growing up. Hades’ choices and his mistakes had made Nico who he was and would always be, and there was nothing he could do about it. But Hades had other children, and could have more, and had lived a longer life than Nico could comprehend. The scope of his experiences were vast and mostly unknowable, and Nico’s place in that picture was comparatively very small. Hades could move on if he chose to, and Nico envied him that choice.
“I don’t know, maybe going no-contact is extreme with Mom in the picture,” Nico said, trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe I’ll compromise and just send him a Christmas card once a year. I bet he’d hate that.”
“What on earth is a Christmas card?” Thanatos asked. “Wait, don’t explain. You have distracted me from the topic at hand. Nico, I’ve got no idea where Hades is. That is not at all what I came here to tell you.”
“Oh,” Nico said. “My guess was wrong? So what did you want to tell me?”
“Oh, dear,” Thanatos said, growing flustered. “I thought I had gotten a reprieve from telling you. You said you didn’t want to know.”
“No, now I do want to know, because if I don’t know what it is I don’t want to know, I can’t decide whether I want to know it,” Nico said.
“What does that–”
“Just tell me,” Nico said. He prayed it wouldn’t send him into a rage spiral the way Thanatos had feared. He didn’t want his little measure of peace stolen from him before he had time to enjoy it, but he would need to trust himself to remain in control of his temper no matter what he found out.
“I know who asked Eros to shoot you with that arrow,” Thanatos said.
“Multiple arrows,” Nico grumbled, immediately filled with resentment at the thought of the violation he’d experienced at Eros’ hand. He gritted his teeth. “Who was it?”
Thanatos swallowed hard.
“It was Nyx.”