Chapter Text
Nico POV
Sometimes, Nico thought even the Pre-World War II Italy he’d grown up in wasn’t as bad as living in the present day, in this strange new modern age.
Everything was so…loud. And bright.
Everyone had strange little machines they were obsessed with (cell phones, Nico reminded himself)(he even had one) (though he had no clue how to use it and was honestly scared of it)(it’d attract monsters anyway), everyone had little television like things they carried around and played games on, everything was “online” whatever the hell that meant. People paid for everything with plastic, robots could talk and order you food and had names like “Alexa” and “Siri”, and cars could even drive themselves.
Nico could deal with it all, it was just overwhelming sometimes, and he had to say he was pretty proud of how far he’d come since he’d left the Lotus Hotel with Bianca. Sure, he felt like the ninety year old man he technically was at times, but he’d adapted pretty well if he said so himself, even if people looked at him weird sometimes when he didn’t know how to use a self check-out or order a damn Oozer or whatever they were called.
He could deal with it.
What he couldn’t deal with was motherfucking cartoons.
Specifically, one vile, wretched, evil cartoon.
Luca.
Nico used to love cartoons, the paper kind of course as the television kind hadn’t been invented yet when he was in Italy. He’d wait all week for his favorites to be delivered, reading them as fast as he could, sighing when he knew he’d finished and the wait started all over.
Luca changed all that.
You see…here’s the thing.
Ever since that damn film had come out, Nico had been tormented by literally everyone he knew. Suddenly, everyone seemed to care about Nico and his past, all of the sudden remembering that “Oh, wait! You’re from Venice aren’t you! You’re Italian! Just like Luca! And Alberto! HOLY SHIT, Nico, are you a sea monster too?!?!?” because clearly, being from Italy and happening to live near water made you a sea monster according to the religious text of a stupid children’s cartoon.
The fact that they were all true was completely irrelevant.
Yes, Nico had grown up in Venice….or more accurately…underneath of it…
They’d had a house of course, on land, off of one of the canals, warm and dry, where Nico would curl in front of the fire to read his cartoons or play with his figurines and where Hades had came to visit them a few times, choosing not to meet them in their home home in the canal since Poseidon would know and get pissed and war and blah blah blah.
He much preferred living under the canal than above it, always thinking of their land home as like a hotel. Nico’s friends were under the water, his pet fish, Gino, was under the water, he could sleep on his seaweed bed under the water. The canals were his home. Sure some of the canals were…shallow to say the least and there had been one or two or a hundred close calls with the Land Monsters, but you learned to adapt. And home was home.
He’d not swam much since the Lotus, staying in ‘human’ form since there were much more pressing matters than letting his gills breathe. He showered alone late at night and only risked diving into the lake and waters around Camp when it was off-season and most campers were away at home for the winter or at school. It sucked royal starfish that he couldn’t jump in and splash around mid-summer in the heat with the others, but luckily his death-god-child aura (Goth? Is that what they called it now?) kept most campers from asking questions.
Until motherfucking Luca.
No-one batted an eye towards him with Call Me by Your Name and asked if he’d fucked any good peaches lately. Or asked if he’d sang with Paulo and Lizzie McGuire. But nooooooo, one little cartoon and now every Italian is a sea monster.
The fact that most sea monsters were actually Italian was once again, irrelevant (Mediterranean Sea, Adriatic Sea, much much warmer).
Nico was pretty sure an actual sea monster had written Luca as, well, it was pretty accurate. Nico even had a very distant cousin (on his mamma’s side obviously) who lived in the deep.
Nico didn’t see her much. She was fucking weird.
Point was, you didn’t live in a word full of demigods and broadcast the fact that you were a sea monster. Demigods would do what they did best. Kill the monsters.
So, yeah…Nico kinda found excuses to hang out inside when it was rainy out.
He had no clue why someone would write a movie uncannily accurate to real sea monsters unless it was some stupid ‘hide-in-plain-sight’ bullshit that clearly wasn’t working if Nico’s day so far was any proof.
“C’mon Nico! I know you’ve seen it! You have to know what I’m talking about! The Portorosso Cup! Gulia! That dick with the douche bag mustache and stupid voice!” Leo Valdez was currently babbling around a mouthful of barbeque, tiny bits of sauce and unidentifiable but delicious meat flying out of his mouth, ruining Nico’s appetite.
“No clue what you’re talking about, HotHead.”
“So, you’re not a sea monster? C’mon bro, you had to have at least seen one!”
“Listen Flames-for-Brains, why would I lie? It’s just a silly little movie, or more accurately, some silly little dream you had and while I am flattered that you dream of me, truly, I. Have. NO FUCKING CLUE. What.You. Mean. Got it, idiota?” Nico gaze was deadly.
“But…but…you said you were from Venice…” Leo’s fork drooped sadly.
Nico cocked his head to the side, “Silenzio, Bruno,” he deadpanned.
“YOU LIAR!”
“Even if I was or knew any mostri marini, why the hell would I tell you? I don’t even like you. Tu sei un rompicoglioni!”
“Leo, I literally go out to the water like, every single day. I hate to break it to you dude, but there’s no sea monsters. I mean, water is kinda my thing, I think I would have noticed one hanging in the lake by now.” Percy piped up and Leo finally admitted defeat, grumbling out something akin to “woulda been hella rad tho”.
Nico rolled his eyes so hard he feared they’d be permanently stuck. “Stronzo,” he muttered.
Today was just another great day.
The quiet beep of his watch (yes, he wore one) (yes, he knew how it worked thanks to Hazel) (yes it was waterproof) tore Nico out of his daze. He sat up farther, his hoodie catching a little on the bark of the tree behind him. Nico stretched out his muscles, cramped for the fifteen minutes he’d been sat there watching, and stood up. No one moved, no one shouted his name, all was clear. Camp had been completely silent the entire time he’d been watching and there wasn’t even a single ripple on the water.
He knew it was stupid. Knew Percy was currently a few cabins away and some tadpole might blab (tadpoles were assholes), but he had to swim. His scales were itchy under the guise of his skin and his ‘phantom tail’ was driving him batshit crazy. It was more than worth the risk.
Nico peeled off his clothes, down to his underwear and shivered in the night air. Normally, he wouldn’t even care, clothes stayed with you during The Change, but they always reeked of fish afterwards on land.
He ran towards the water, jumping at the last second and pulling off a near soundless dive, barely even a ripple. Bubbles exploded around him and he gulped in the lukewarm water, eyes and head rolling back, and just let himself float.
He vaguely heard the fish and whatnot scattering around him, gossiping how rude he was probably, but Nico couldn’t be bothered. He stretched out far as he could, like a cat, floating on his back underwater and let his newly freed tail swish and carry him in a gentle current.
Fuck, he’d missed this.
Nico let himself sink to the bottom, a cloud of fine dirt billowing up around him in a tiny puff as his back hit the bottom and he opened his eyes. He looked up, the moon barely visible shining through the murky water.
It had been way too long. He’d needed to swim.
He sat up and shook out his fins, stretching a little more, letting the water loosen muscles his wasn’t used to using anymore. Then he was off! Nico shot through the water, zooming around the lake, weaving around a small school of fish and doing summersaults in the water.
Nico was free.
Well, free for now.
He knew he didn’t have much time. Eventually, someone would come out for a late night stroll, or everyone would start waking up for the day, and someone would see Nico coming out of the water or mid-Change and he just couldn’t let that happen. He had to be smart…even if he was currently being stupid.
Nico came to a stop next to a small fish graveyard, one or two translucent carp blinking slowly at him, and settled atop a comfortable looking rock and he set to work. He pulled up some clumps of seaweed growing around the rock and began gently rubbing at the scales of his tail, polishing until they gleamed almost opalescent in the water.
A sea monster’s scales were a source of pride, not unlike a mermaid’s (mermaids were also assholes). As a child, Nico’s mother would groom and polish his and Bianca’s scales till they almost hurt and a few times Bianca even swore her sky blue ones were hot to the touch from the fierce friction.
Nico’s scales were mostly purple. Along the center of his tale and around his face and belly his soft scales were an almost lavender in color, deepening in color the farther outward they went until they were a rich royal purple, fading into a soft yellow, almost like corn silk around the edges. The fins on his head and along the back of his tail were a richer yellow with streaks of lavender and deeper purple throughout, even a little bluish-green here or there in the sunlight.
Nico was pretty proud of his scales if he said so himself.
He had just about finished polishing the last of them along his arms when he heard the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn.
A sword being drawn underwater.
Nico dropped the seaweed, his hands coming up in a nonthreatening gesture (why had he left his own weapons on land???), turning around slowly to be met face to face with wild black hair and blazing green eyes.
“NICO?!?” Percy’s sword fell.
“Ah, sharks.”