# Chapter 5: The Sad Truth Percy woke slowly, sunlight streaming through the cabin windows. He blinked, momentarily confused by the weight on his chest. Looking down, he saw Nico curled against him, head nestled on his bare pectoral, breathing softly in sleep. Percy frowned, trying to remember when this happened. Had Nico crawled into his bed during the night? Normally, this kind of proximity would make him uncomfortable, but for some reason, it felt... natural. Like he'd invited Nico to sleep beside him. He carefully shifted, trying not to wake the younger boy while assessing his own state. He realized he wasn't wearing anything beneath the sheets. That was odd - he usually slept in shorts, at least. A vague memory floated through his mind of being too tired to care about his clothes before falling asleep. The movement caused Nico to stir. The younger boy's eyes fluttered open, immediately widening when he realized where he was. "Oh!" Nico scrambled away, nearly falling off the bed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" "It's okay," Percy said, surprised by how automatically the reassurance came. "You were having nightmares again, right?" Nico hesitated, then nodded quickly. "Yeah... nightmares. Sorry about that." "Don't worry about it." Percy sat up, keeping the sheet pulled up to his waist. "That's what friends are for." Nico looked away, his face flushed. "Right. Friends." Percy stretched his arms above his head, his muscles flexing visibly in the morning light. He smelled his own dried sweat from yesterday's training and wrinkled his nose slightly. "I should probably shower," he murmured, more to himself than to Nico. "You're going to be training again today anyway," Nico pointed out with some hypnotic power, still not meeting Percy's eyes. "Might as well wait until after." Percy nodded, the suggestion making perfect sense to him. "Good point. I'll shower after our training session." "Our training session?" Nico asked, perking up. "Yeah, remember? I said I'd help you train." Percy swung his legs over the side of the bed, keeping the sheet around his waist as he reached for his dresser drawer. "We can start today if you want." "I'd like that," Nico said, his voice eager. Percy grabbed a clean Camp Half-Blood t-shirt and a pair of shorts from his drawer. He hesitated, realizing he needed underwear. He opened the drawer where he kept his boxers, frowning slightly at the options. His hand hovered over a blue pair before moving to the used black pair that somehow seemed more... appropriate. He couldn't explain why, but wearing these felt right, even though he'd already worn them yesterday. He gathered his clothes and headed to the bathroom. "Give me a minute to change," he told Nico, closing the door behind him. Inside the bathroom, Percy dropped his clothes on the counter and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess of tangled blond curls, and his skin still bore the sheen of yesterday's dried sweat. He splashed water on his face, then brushed his teeth. The cool water refreshed him, but he deliberately avoided washing anywhere else. It seemed wasteful when he'd just get sweaty again during training. Percy dressed quickly, pulling on the same underwear from yesterday, followed by his shorts and t-shirt. He ran his fingers through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to tame it, then emerged from the bathroom. Nico had already dressed and sat perched on the edge of his own bunk, looking up expectantly when Percy appeared. "Ready for breakfast?" Percy asked, grabbing his sword in pen form from the nightstand. "Sure," Nico replied, jumping to his feet with an eagerness that made Percy smile. They walked together to the dining pavilion. The morning was warm, promising another hot summer day. Other campers were already gathered, filling their plates and making offerings to the gods. Percy led the way to the food line, piling his plate high with pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Nico took considerably less, just a single pancake and a small helping of scrambled eggs. "You should eat more if we're going to be training," Percy advised, nodding at Nico's plate. "You'll need the energy." "I'm not really hungry," Nico mumbled, but he added another pancake to his plate at Percy's urging. They made their offerings to the gods—Percy scraping a portion of his meal into the fire for Poseidon, Nico doing the same for his father, Hades. Then they separated to their respective tables, camp rules dictating that campers sit with their godly parent's cabin. Percy ate alone at the Poseidon table, occasionally glancing over at Nico, who sat similarly isolated at the Hermes table. The younger boy picked at his food, taking small bites and seeming more interested in watching Percy than eating. When they finished, Percy walked over to Nico's table. "So, ready to start training?" Nico nodded eagerly, abandoning his half-eaten breakfast without hesitation. "I figured we could use the small clearing in the woods," Percy said as they walked away from the pavilion. "It's more private there. No audience to make you nervous." "Thanks," Nico said quietly, relief evident in his voice. "I don't want anyone else watching me fail." "Hey, you're not going to fail," Percy assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Everyone starts somewhere. I was terrible when I first picked up a sword." Nico looked skeptical but didn't argue. They made their way into the forest, following a narrow path until they reached a small clearing. The space was maybe thirty feet across, ringed by tall pines that provided some shade from the morning sun. The ground was relatively flat, covered in short grass with a few patches of bare dirt. "This should work," Percy said, uncapping Riptide. The pen expanded into his three-foot-long celestial bronze sword, gleaming in the dappled sunlight. "Do you have a weapon?" Nico pulled out his own sword, a short black blade of Stygian iron. "I have this, but I don't really know how to use it properly." "That's what we're here for." Percy moved to the center of the clearing. "First, let's work on your stance. How you stand is the foundation of everything else." He demonstrated, spreading his feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, sword held at ready position. "Like this," he instructed. "Try to copy me." Nico attempted to mimic Percy's stance, but his feet were too close together, his grip on the sword awkward and tense. Percy shook his head. "Not quite. Here—" He stepped behind Nico, placing his hands on the younger boy's shoulders. "Relax your upper body." He moved his hands down to Nico's elbows, adjusting the angle. "Keep your elbows in, but not too tight." Nico remained stiff, his breathing shallow as Percy adjusted his posture. "You need to spread your feet more," Percy said, nudging Nico's feet apart with his own. "There, that's better." He walked around to face Nico, examining his stance critically. "Your grip is too tight. You'll tire yourself out quickly that way." He reached out and placed his hands over Nico's, loosening his fingers on the sword hilt. "Firm but not strangling, okay?" Nico nodded, his face flushed. Percy attributed it to embarrassment over needing so much correction. "Now, let's try a basic defensive position," Percy continued, stepping back and demonstrating. "Sword up, angled slightly to deflect attacks coming from above." Nico attempted to copy the position, but his sword arm wavered. "Your arm isn't strong enough yet," Percy observed. "We need to build up your muscles. Let's try some simple exercises first." He led Nico through a series of drills—extending the sword arm, holding it steady for increasing intervals, basic thrusts and parries performed slowly to develop muscle memory. Within twenty minutes, Nico's arm was visibly shaking with exertion. "You're doing well," Percy encouraged, even though it was clear Nico was struggling. "Let's take a quick break, then try some footwork." They paused, Nico dropping his arm gratefully and rolling his shoulder. Percy used the moment to remove his t-shirt, already damp with sweat from the morning heat and physical activity. "It's getting hot," he explained, tossing the shirt aside. "Better to train without it getting in the way." Nico stared at Percy's bare chest for a moment before quickly averting his eyes. "Yeah, it's... it's pretty hot." Percy rolled his shoulders, feeling the pleasant burn of his muscles warming up. "Ready to continue?" Nico nodded, raising his sword again with visible effort. "Okay, now we're going to work on moving while maintaining your stance," Percy instructed. "Forward step, backward step, side steps. The key is keeping your balance centered no matter which direction you move." He demonstrated, moving fluidly across the clearing while maintaining perfect form. Sweat began to form on his brow and chest as he increased the speed and complexity of his movements. "Now you try," he said, stopping to watch Nico. "Start slow, focus on keeping your stance solid as you move." Nico attempted to mimic Percy's movements, but his steps were awkward and uncoordinated. He stumbled twice in the first minute, nearly dropping his sword the second time. "Keep your weight centered," Percy advised, moving beside Nico to demonstrate again. "Like this—see how my knees stay bent? I'm not locking my joints." He continued coaching Nico through the basic footwork patterns, occasionally reaching out to adjust the younger boy's posture or guide him through a movement. The repeated demonstrations caused Percy to work up a significant sweat, droplets running down his chest and back. "Let's try something different," Percy suggested after Nico stumbled for the fifth time. "Maybe we should work on your reflexes instead." He positioned himself opposite Nico, raising Riptide. "I'm going to attack very slowly, and you try to block. Ready?" Nico nodded, raising his sword with both hands now, his arms already tired from the earlier exercises. Percy lunged forward deliberately, telegraphing his move and moving at perhaps a quarter of his normal speed. Even so, Nico barely managed to get his sword up in time, and the clash of their blades sent him staggering backward. "Sorry," Percy said, immediately lowering his sword. "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," Nico insisted, though he rubbed his wrist where the impact had jarred him. "Let's try again." They continued, Percy attacking with exaggerated slowness, Nico defending with increasing difficulty as his arms grew more tired. After ten minutes of this, Percy called for another break. "You're trying too hard," he told Nico, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "You need to relax more, let your body react naturally." "Easy for you to say," Nico muttered, breathing hard. "Everything comes naturally to you." Percy shook his head, his damp blond curls sticking to his forehead and neck. "That's not true. I've trained for years to get to this level. It takes time and practice." "I'll never be as good as you," Nico said, looking down at his thin arms. "I'm weak." "Strength isn't everything in combat," Percy countered. "Speed, strategy, and technique can overcome raw power. Let me show you." He set up a series of more complex drills, demonstrating attacks and defenses that relied more on agility and timing than brute force. As he moved through the exercises, sweat poured off him, soaking his hair completely and running in rivulets down his torso. Nico watched, mesmerized, as Percy's hair darkened with moisture, golden curls plastering to his head and neck. The son of Poseidon's skin gleamed in the dappled sunlight, muscles rippling under smooth, tanned skin with each movement. "See?" Percy said, finishing a complex series of maneuvers. "That was all about timing and precision, not strength. Now you try." Nico's attempt was disastrous. He tangled his feet in the first step, nearly impaled himself on his own sword in the second, and completely lost his balance on the third, sprawling face-first onto the ground. "Are you okay?" Percy hurried over, helping Nico to his feet. "I'm fine," Nico snapped, embarrassment making his voice harsh. He brushed dirt from his clothes, refusing to meet Percy's concerned gaze. "That sequence was probably too advanced," Percy admitted. "Let's go back to basics—" "What's the point?" Nico interrupted, frustration evident in his tone. "I'm never going to be any good at this." "You will," Percy insisted. "It just takes time and practice. Everyone struggles at first." "Not you," Nico muttered. He patted Nico's shoulder, leaving a damp handprint on the younger boy's black t-shirt. "Come on, let's try something even simpler. Just basic sword strikes against that tree over there." Nico followed reluctantly as Percy indicated a pine tree at the edge of the clearing with a trunk about a foot in diameter. "Just focus on your form," Percy instructed, demonstrating a simple overhead strike, his sword stopping just before it would have bitten into the bark. "Control is more important than power right now." Nico tried to copy the movement, but his strike was weak and wobbly. The tip of his sword barely touched the tree. "You need to commit more," Percy advised. "Follow through with your whole body, not just your arms." He demonstrated again, his muscles rippling with controlled power as he executed the strike perfectly despite the sweat now dripping from his body. Nico tried again, putting more force behind the blow this time. His sword connected with the tree, but at an awkward angle that sent painful vibrations up his arm. He dropped the weapon with a yelp of pain. "I can't do this!" he exclaimed, nursing his stinging hand. "Yes, you can," Percy insisted, retrieving Nico's sword. "Here, let me guide you through it." He positioned himself behind Nico, reaching around to help him grip the sword properly. His chest pressed against Nico's back, arms enveloping the smaller boy as he guided him through the motion. "Like this," he said, his voice close to Nico's ear as they moved through the strike together. "Feel how the power comes from your legs and core, not just your arms?" Nico nodded, unable to speak with Percy so close, the hero's sweat-slick skin pressing against him. They repeated the movement several times, Percy guiding Nico through each strike. Finally, Percy stepped back. "Now try it on your own," he encouraged. Nico took a deep breath and executed the strike. It wasn't good, but it was slightly better than his previous attempts. "That's it!" Percy exclaimed. "See? You're getting it already." They continued practicing basic strikes for another twenty minutes, Percy demonstrating, Nico attempting to copy. Despite Percy's patient instruction and encouragement, Nico grew increasingly frustrated with his slow progress. Every move that Percy executed with fluid grace seemed to take Nico ten tries to perform with even basic competence. "Let's call it a day," Percy suggested after Nico's twentieth failed attempt at a simple parry. "We've been at it for almost two hours. That's enough for your first real training session." Nico didn't argue, his arms feeling like lead, his pride wounded by his poor performance. Percy continued training for a while, his hair completely soaked, rivulets running down his chest and back. "You did well for a beginner," Percy said, capping Riptide and returning it to pen form. He grabbed his discarded t-shirt but didn't put it on, instead using it to wipe some of the sweat from his face and chest. "We'll practice again tomorrow, okay?" Before Nico could respond, they heard the sound of approaching footsteps. A moment later, Grover appeared at the edge of the clearing, his goat legs carrying him nimbly over the forest floor. "There you are, Percy!" the satyr called. "I've been looking all over for—" He stopped, taking in the scene: Percy shirtless and sweating, Nico disheveled and frustrated. "What's going on?" "Training session," Percy explained, smiling at his friend. "I'm helping Nico with his sword skills." Grover's eyes flicked to Nico, then back to Percy. "Looks like you're the only one who got a workout," he observed, nodding at Percy's sweat-soaked state. Nico flushed, gripping his sword tighter. "Nico's working hard too," Percy defended. "It's just his first day." Grover snorted, a very goat-like sound. "Right..." "Grover," Percy warned, but the damage was done. Nico's face burned with humiliation. "What?" Grover shrugged. "I'm just saying, maybe sword fighting isn't his thing. Not everyone's cut out to be a hero." Nico stared at the ground, wishing it would open up and swallow him. Being the son of Hades, that wasn't entirely impossible, but his powers weren't reliable enough to summon such an escape. "That's not fair," Percy said, but there was a hesitation in his voice that cut Nico deeper than Grover's outright mockery. "Whatever," Grover said, clearly bored with the topic. "Chiron's looking for you. Something about helping with the younger campers' swimming lesson." "I'll be there in a few minutes," Percy said, finally pulling his t-shirt back on despite his still-sweaty state. The orange fabric darkened immediately where it contacted his wet skin. "I should go," Nico mumbled, sheathing his sword. "We'll continue tomorrow," Percy said, but he was already turning toward Grover, his attention shifting away from Nico. Nico nodded without looking up, then turned and walked quickly toward the path leading out of the clearing. Once out of sight, he broke into a run, tears stinging his eyes. He didn't stop until he reached a dense thicket about fifty yards from the clearing. There, hidden from view, he sank to the ground, burying his face in his hands. The tears came freely now, hot streaks of humiliation and anger. He wasn't sure how long he sat there before he heard voices approaching along the path—Percy and Grover, heading back toward camp. Nico quickly wiped his eyes, crouching lower in the underbrush to avoid being seen. "—seriously, what's with you letting him sleep in your cabin?" Grover was saying as they came into earshot. "Isn't it weird having him around all the time?" "He is always alone." Percy replied. "It's not like I had a choice." "Still, he's always following you around," Grover continued. "Like some kind of lost puppy. Doesn't it creep you out?" There was a pause, and Nico held his breath, straining to hear Percy's response. "It's a little weird," Percy admitted finally. "He's kind of clingy. Always watching me, always wanting to hang out. I'm trying to be nice, but..." "But he's not really your friend," Grover finished for him. Another pause, longer this time. Nico's heart hammered in his chest, hoping desperately for Percy to deny it. "And he's just so weak," Percy said instead, his voice quieter but still clearly audible to Nico's hiding spot. "I feel bad for him, you know? He doesn't fit in anywhere. Nobody wants him around. I guess I'm just trying to be nice." "Too nice, if you ask me," Grover replied. "You can't save everyone, Percy." Their voices faded as they continued down the path, leaving Nico frozen in his hiding place, Percy's words echoing in his mind. Weak. Clingy. Not really his friend. Fresh tears spilled down Nico's cheeks, but now they came from a different place—not embarrassment, but a deep, cold anger that settled in his chest like a stone. Nico stumbled back to the Poseidon cabin, Percy's words echoing painfully in his mind. The forest path blurred before him as he wiped angry tears from his eyes. He kicked at fallen leaves and branches, his entire body trembling with rage and humiliation. "Weak," he muttered, mimicking Percy's voice as he pushed open the cabin door. "Clingy. Not really his friend." Nico slammed the door behind him and leaned against it, sliding down until he sat on the floor. The empty cabin mocked him with its ocean-themed decorations and the lingering scent of Percy's cologne. He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in his arms. "I'm such an idiot," he said aloud, his voice echoing in the empty space. "I actually thought... I actually believed... we were starting to be..." He lifted his head and stared across the room at Percy's bunk. The sheets remained rumpled from this morning, when they'd woken up together. He remembered how it felt to be nestled against Percy's warm chest, to feel those strong arms around him. But it wasn't real. None of it was real. Nico pushed himself up and walked to Percy's bed. He sat on the edge, running his hand over the blanket where Percy had slept. The bitter irony crushed him—he controlled Percy's sleeping mind but would never truly have the real Percy. "What's the point?" he asked the empty room. "He's mine at night, but during the day, he thinks I'm pathetic." Nico flopped back on Percy's bed, staring at the ceiling. The salt-water fountain in the corner burbled softly, the sound suddenly irritating him. Everything in this cabin reminded him of Percy—strong, powerful, perfect Percy, who felt sorry for poor, weak Nico. "This is all wrong," he said, covering his face with his hands. "I can make him do whatever I want when he's asleep, but the real Percy will never look at me with anything but pity." The air in the cabin suddenly felt colder, the light dimming as if a cloud had passed over the sun. Nico sat up quickly, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. "Your frustration is understandable," said a smooth voice from the shadows. Morpheus materialized near the fountain, his form wavering like a reflection in disturbed water. He wore a simple gray suit today, his features handsome but constantly shifting, never quite staying the same for more than a moment. "What do you want?" Nico asked, not bothering to hide his anger. "I came to congratulate you," Morpheus said, moving closer. "You've mastered hypnotic control over Percy's sleeping mind faster than I anticipated. Most impressive for one so young." Nico laughed bitterly. "Great. I can control him when he's unconscious. What good does that do me?" "It's a start," Morpheus replied, perching on the edge of the opposite bunk. "Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is complete mental domination." "It doesn't matter," Nico spat, standing up and pacing the cabin. "Night illusions are meaningless when the real, awake Percy sees me as pathetic and weak!" He kicked a dirty sock across the floor, his frustration boiling over. "I just heard him talking to Grover in the forest. He said I'm clingy, that I don't fit in anywhere, that nobody wants me around. He only spends time with me because he feels sorry for me!" Morpheus watched Nico's outburst with calm interest, his fingers steepled under his chin. "And this surprises you? I only have power on the sleeping mind, on the back of your emotions. The conscious mind is a stubborn thing, especially for a demigod of his strength." "Then what's the point of all this?" Nico demanded, gesturing wildly. "What good is controlling his dreams if his waking mind still thinks I'm worthless?" "You're making progress," Morpheus said. "The fact that he accepts your presence in his cabin, that he trains with you despite your obvious lack of skill—these are small victories won through your subliminal influence." "Small victories?" Nico repeated incredulously. "I don't want his pity! I want..." He trailed off, unable to articulate exactly what he wanted. "You want him to look at you the way you look at him," Morpheus finished for him. "You want genuine affection, genuine desire." The god of dreams stood, moving to stand before Nico. "But Percy Jackson's mind isn't so easily changed. His demigod strength makes him impossible to fully mind control." "So this is all pointless," Nico concluded, slumping onto his own bunk. "Not at all," Morpheus said, his voice taking on a silky quality that made Nico look up. "There is a solution..." "What solution?" "Simple, really." Morpheus smiled, his teeth gleaming unnaturally white. "You must steal all of Percy's power first. Then, with his defenses weakened, you could permanently change his mind." Nico stared at the dream god, trying to process what he'd just heard. "Steal his... power? How would I even do that?" "You can use my power while he is sleeping, I know a... a way..." Morpheus explained, pacing slowly around the cabin. "You can steal his power." "I don't understand," Nico said, though a cold feeling in his stomach suggested he understood more than he wanted to admit. "When a demigod's body produces liquid throug my power, it can contain their godly power," Morpheus explained, as casually as if discussing the weather. "By consuming it, you take that power into yourself. Three nights of complete draining should transfer all of Percy's demigod abilities to you." Nico sat in stunned silence, trying to absorb what Morpheus was proposing. The thought of taking Percy's power—the very thing that made him who he was—seemed monstrous. Yet a small, dark part of him thrilled at the possibility. "But..." Nico finally found his voice. "If I took his power, he wouldn't be Percy anymore. Not the Percy I..." He couldn't finish the sentence. "Not the Percy you fell in love with?" Morpheus suggested, his ever-changing eyes studying Nico intently. "That's the conflict, isn't it? You fell in love with his strength, his power, his heroism. Not a weakened version of him." Nico nodded slowly, conflicted emotions warring inside him. "I want him to want me, but I want him to still be... him." "Consider this," Morpheus said, his voice dropping to a hypnotic cadence. "Percy Jackson, in his current state, will never truly see you as an equal. You will always be the weak one he pities. But if you took his power..." "I'd be the strong one," Nico whispered. "Precisely." Morpheus nodded approvingly. "And then, with his defenses gone and your new abilities at full strength, you could reshape his mind completely. Not just in sleep, but in waking life as well." Nico stood and walked to the window, looking out at the camp. In the distance, he could see campers playing volleyball, others practicing archery. Normal activities for demigods. Percy was probably among them, showing off his perfect skills, his perfect body, laughing with his real friends. "It's your choice," Morpheus said from behind him. "Continue as you are, having him only in dreams while he pities you in reality. Or take what you want, make him truly yours." "I need to think about this," Nico said quietly. "Of course." Morpheus moved toward the darkest corner of the cabin. "The decision must be yours alone. But remember—power changes everything." With those words, the dream god faded into shadow, leaving Nico alone with his thoughts. Nico spent the rest of the afternoon in the cabin, lying on his bunk and staring at the ceiling. His mind churned with possibilities and consequences, desire warring with his conscience. Percy's words from the forest kept playing in his head: "He's so weak... Nobody wants him around... I'm just trying to be nice." The anger those words had sparked remained, smoldering beneath his confusion and hurt. What did he owe Percy, really? The hero who pitied him, who talked about him behind his back? As evening approached, shadows lengthened across the cabin floor. Nico sat up, his decision still unmade. He needed more time to think, to consider what taking Percy's power would mean for both of them. The cabin door opened, startling him from his thoughts. Percy walked in, his hair damp with sweat, his orange camp t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame. He flashed Nico a smile that seemed genuine enough, though now Nico wondered if it was merely politeness masking pity. "Hey," Percy said, dropping his sword-pen on his nightstand. "Lessons ran long. Those Hermes kids are something else." He chuckled, running a hand through his sweat-damp curls. "I'll just change my shirt and we can grab dinner." Nico watched in amazement as Percy pulled off his sweaty t-shirt and tossed it into a hamper, then rummaged through his drawer for a fresh one. As Percy's back was turned, Nico allowed himself a small smile. Maybe Morpheus was right about his growing power over the demigod. The suggestion had been small, insignificant really, but Percy had accepted it without hesitation, abandoning his routine for Nico's preference. Percy pulled on a clean blue t-shirt and turned back to Nico. "Ready for dinner? I'm starving after all the training." "Sure," Nico replied, standing up. He studied Percy's face, looking for any sign that the hero was simply humoring him, acting out of pity. But Percy just looked back at him with friendly expectation, apparently genuinely ready to share a meal with him. As they walked to the door, Nico caught a whiff of Percy's sweat—not unpleasant, just masculine and distinctly Percy. A small thrill ran through him at the thought that he had prevented Percy from washing it away, that the hero had listened to him, had followed his suggestion. It was a tiny victory, but it fueled Nico's confidence. Maybe Morpheus was right. Maybe he did have more influence over Percy than he realized. And if that was true, what else might be possible? The question lingered in Nico's mind as they walked toward the dining pavilion together, Percy chatting about his day, completely unaware of the momentous decision Nico was contemplating—a decision that could change both their lives forever.