[Edited April 17, 2023]

Nico carefully climbed down off of his desk and sat gently in his chair. He sat there, staring at the new blank page sitting there before him. He wanted to draw something else. He wanted to see if his new talent was a fluke or something. He still had motivation, but he no longer had any inspiration. He sat there for several minutes just trying to come up with things that he could draw but nothing sounded all that appealing to him at the moment. He eyed the rest of the room for inspiration but nothing immediately came to him.

That's when his mind started to wander. His thoughts strayed to Camp Halfblood and what they were probably doing right about then. Maybe they were having a game of Capture the Flag. Maybe Annabeth was leading a charge against the Ares cabin. Maybe Percy was bending the creek to his will. The possibilities were endless. Nico absently wished he'd been around for more of the events at camp. Now that the prophecy was over and more and more demigods were showing up at the borders, the place had become too crowded for him.

With other demigods on his mind, it wasn't too long before an idea for another picture came to him. He was going to draw Percy and Annabeth. It seemed fitting since they were his only real friends at camp. Maybe his only real friend at all. It was only right that they were the next people he drew after Bianca.

He wanted to portray them as the happy, carefree people that he had always known them to be. He decided on drawing them at the very moment that the war ended. Both were in battle armor, their helmets long since discarded, holding each other as if nothing else mattered. Nico started with the form of Annabeth, her hands in Percy's hair. The curves, shading, and depth came naturally to him. He automatically knew what to do to get the picture how he wanted. When he was satisfied with her figure, he moved on to draw Percy.

The picture took him several hours to complete, which he did all in one sitting. He didn't stop working until it was complete and even then he couldn't stop moving. After he had tacked up the piece he cleaned up all his art supplies, made his bed, and put away the rest of the clothes that Chiron had sent him from Camp. There wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. Even after had finished all the little tasks he could think of, he could still feel himself tingling with nervous energy but he wasn't sure why. Sometimes he would just get these sudden waves of productivity where he felt like he could take on the world, but usually, they dissipated fairly quickly. This time the feeling wasn't going away.

He felt that if he didn't work through the energy it would well back up into whatever panic had overtaken him a few hours prior and he didn't want that. Nico paced in circles rapidly for a few minutes, trying to expel some of the energy. Every time he paused for more than a few moments he could feel the pressure start to build up in his muscles and his chest so he had to move again. He could feel the panic coming up despite his efforts and it made him want to growl in frustration.

 Why couldn't he calm down? What was happening to him? After a while of just pacing and looking for little tasks to do like picking up paper scraps or organizing his dressers, Nico could feel himself coming back down from the wave of anxiety. It hadn't reached a peak like it had earlier and he had managed to keep from having a full-blown meltdown. However, the demigod still felt drained. How could he go from having so much energy to being so empty?

Nico glanced at his drawings numbly. It was like he was inside a fishbowl. Everything was softer and slightly distorted. The thoughts were there, they just weren't as loud as they usually were and they were a lot slower than normal. Was this what it was like to think like a normal person? His eyes started to process his art. Drawing reminded him of Rachel, and how Percy told him that she drew Luke from her dreams. What if he could draw out the people he sees in his demigod dreams? He can make sure that he can recognize them. He told himself that he would do that the next time that he saw someone new in his dreams. After this fog went away.

Nico plopped back down in his chair. He didn't know just how long he sat there in thought, but it must've been a long time because the next thing he knew Dick was coming in to get him for dinner.

++Richard++

He was out on patrol with his brothers and Bruce basically all day. Dick kind of felt bad leaving Nico at the manor on his own, but Alfred was supposed to keep him occupied if need be. There was also the fact that the Joker and Harley had set up several different traps and bombs under the banks around the city. Bombs that needed to be located and disabled before they went off and took a fair portion of the city with them. That didn't really give him much choice-- he had responsibilities.

They got back about an hour before dinner. Each boy changed and showered before heading upstairs. They all parted ways, electing to go do their own things. Dick decided to go check on Nico. According to Alfred, he had not seen the boy all day. That meant that he had not eaten lunch that day and it was very nearly time for dinner. That was slightly concerning, as it had seemed that Nico hadn't even sought out food. Was that why he was so small? Did he just not eat? He must be hungry by now.

Dick walked down the hall toward the boy's room, scanning the passage for traps. That boy was one of the best pranksters he knew (granted he had never met these fabled Stoll brothers). Nico had proven his skills in trickery and trap-making over and over again. He had also applied himself as a decent actor while he pulled off these pranks. He would make an interesting Robin-- though perhaps an unconventional one.

Dick approached his door, carefully opening it to gaze in. Nico was sitting at his desk almost glaring at the blank paper in front of him. Dick stepped in cautiously, still wary of a prank. He was only 2 pranks away from getting ahead of Nico, he would not jeopardize that spot. The newest addition made no sign that he saw or heard him enter. Dick coughed lightly and Nico's eyes snapped toward him. The younger boy blinked a couple of times in surprise before seeming to fully grasp what was going on. Was he dissociating?

"Oh hey." He finally managed.

"It's just about time for dinner. Alfred said that you didn't eat lunch. Are you ok?" Nico's eyes widened as he turned to look at the clock in the corner. When he saw the time, he cursed in Italian. He basically called himself a moron.

"Yeah, everything is good. I just didn't realize what time it was. Where were you all today anyway? The manor is never this quiet with all of us under the same roof." Dick wondered just how long Nico had been glaring at the paper. From his angle, by the door, he couldn't see the pictures pinned above his desk. 

As Dick moved into the room to stall for a little bit while he thought of a plausible excuse. As he did he caught sight of the picture Nico did of Bianca. The lies died in his mouth and all of a sudden he was speechless. Nico frowned in confusion at the older boy before following his line of sight and blushing. He had never had anyone look at his art that he could remember and did not know if anyone would like it or not. It didn't help that Dick didn't say a word as he looked over it. Nico felt his heart sink. He hated it, he just knew it. He let his gaze drop to the floor as he waited for the criticism to come.

"Nico! How long have you been drawing?" He asked in surprise. That reaction caught Nico off guard. Did he actually like them or were they just that bad?

"Ummm about five hours." He said timidly, his gaze traveling over Richard trying to gauge his reaction.

"No... I meant total. What age were you?" Dick reaffirmed.

"So did I. I just started a little over five hours ago... I know they aren't very good but I only just started so I guess that that can be expected..." Nico rambled trying to say all of the negative things himself before Dick said them for him.

"What? There is no way that you just started, Nico! These are really good!" Dick replied incredulously. Nico winced, in truth, he might not have just started. Without his memories, he would never really know for sure. The compliment built up his self-esteem if only a little bit. Dick sat down in the chair that Nico had vacated. He sat hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees. He gave Nico a critical once-over.

"There is no way that you just started drawing. That looks like you have been drawing for years." The older boy repeated, but his tone had changed. It was more of an accusation than a question and Nico tensed.

"I know they do!" Nico sighed. "I don't know how, but I can draw like I took art classes or something. Which I haven't."

"So you're saying you have no idea how you did these?" Dick was trying to emphasize how ridiculous that sounded but Nico only nodded miserably. This gave the older boy a pause.

"Do you have like... amnesia or something?" Dick leaned his back against the desk, looking down on the younger boy. Nico's face took on an uncomfortable look and Dick felt that there was more to that expression than he could know.

"I guess. I don't really remember much before a few years ago." Nico shrugged, noncommittal. 

"Did you have a rough childhood do you think? Memory loss is often a side effect of trauma. That could explain how you don't remember learning how to draw." Dick suggested lightly. Clearly, this was a touchy subject and he didn't want to press too hard and make Nico uncomfortable. 

"I don't remember. I can remember the heat of the fire and then... it all gets pretty hazy after that." Nico leaned back in his chair, staring at the blank piece of paper as if it was filled with images that only he could see.

"You're saying you were in the fire?" Dick was surprised by this new information. They had all been under the impression that Nico and his father hadn't been home. There was no mention of them being in the vicinity of the house when it had burned in the police reports.

"Yeah. My father managed to get to me because my bedroom was closest to the door. I think he told me that the building collapsed before he could get to my mom or Bianca. I'm not sure. This was almost a decade ago and my father never talked about it. I could be remembering it wrong." Nico shook his head, clearly at a loss. Whatever had happened that night, the boy's mind probably buried the memory down deep.

"That's horrific. I'm sorry that happened to you." Nico shrugged but Dick could tell that it was eating at him. If the older boy had to guess, he would have said that the fire was worse than his father had let on and that his brain had made him forget to protect itself. That would explain the gaps in his memories.

"It's fine. They're in a better place." Nico truly seemed to believe that. Dick wanted to ask about the surveillance footage of his sister in New Mexico but Nico looked too fragile to be pushed anymore tonight.

"What happened after the fire? At some point, you had to have emigrated to America, right?"

"I guess so, though I was only 5 or 6 at the time."

"You lived here with your dad for a while?" Dick prompted.

"Yeah, until he..." Nico trailed off awkwardly. He didn't need to finish the sentence.

"Then what happened after that? Did you go into foster care or something? An orphanage? You would have been pretty young."

"I just remember the streets. Everything that happened after I found my father like that was a blur. I honestly don't remember if I was ever in an orphanage or anything. I don't think I was." Dick nodded. This lined up with what Bruce had told them earlier. 

"So you just lived on the streets?  Were you all alone?" Nico seemed to be growing weary of all these questions but he responded nonetheless. 

"I was for the most part. Most people just wanted to be left alone so I didn't really talk to anyone. Every once in a while I would make a friend, but it almost never lasted." The older boy knew better than to press the issue so he moved on.

"Tell me about your friends," Dick prompted. Maybe those two boys he'd been seen in central park with were also homeless. Well, one of the two. Perseus Jackson wasn't homeless, but they weren't able to find out much about the other boy. Just a long list of sightings in National Parks all over the country.

"What do you want to know?" Nico eyed him wearily.

"Anything you feel comfortable telling me. Maybe it will help your memories come back." Instantly Dick knew he'd said the wrong thing. Nico's face went stony and unreadable and he waved his hands dismissively.

"It won't."

"How can you know that it won't help if you won't try it?" Dick frowned, confused at the sudden change. Nico didn't reply but he didn't seem particularly swayed either.

"I don't have many gaps in my memory since meeting Percy. That's where the memory problems seem to end, not start," Nico said irritably.

"Percy?" So Nico did know Perseus Jackson, by a nickname no-less. Nico waved him off.

"A friend of mine. He's the one who got me involved at camp. He was a camper there and he recommended me to the program. The next thing I knew, I was enrolled and attending every summer. I'm pretty sure Percy saved my life." Nico didn't elaborate and Dick didn't ask. Clearly, there was more to the story, but he could tell that Nico had said all he wanted to on the matter. 

 "That's awesome, Nico. I'm glad you found a friend." 

Nico snorted. "Thanks."

"Percy, who?" Dick tried to keep his interest lighthearted.

"Percy Jackson," Nico supplied. 

"The guy from that manhunt all those years ago?" Dick asked incredulously.

"Yep. That's him. It was all a misunderstanding, though. He didn't really do all those things he was accused of." Dick had known that Percy had been vindicated in the end, but it still begged the question of what kind of people Nico was surrounding himself with. 

"A hole in the St. Luis Arch was a misunderstanding?" Dick raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Did you meet Percy before or after you enrolled in the military academy?" Dick asked. Nico's face contorted in anger.

"You read my file too? Is nothing private in this house?" Nico shoved back from the desk and stormed further into the room. When he was about at the center he paused and crossed his arms over his chest. He wouldn't look at the older boy.

Dick considered telling him that Bruce had just mentioned the military academy and that he had made assumptions, but that would mean admitting that Bruce had told them things from his file in the first place. Nico was already mad at him and Damian, he didn't want him angry at everyone else too. He'd done the same thing Damian had and he had no one to blame but himself.

"I didn't read your file. I overheard Bruce talking to Alfred about your academic history when I was going to ask him about something for the gala. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I was just waiting for their conversation to end," Dick covered for himself. He figured it would make sense for Bruce to talk about the file to Alfred and Nico wasn't as likely to get angry over that.

"Whatever." Nico returned cooly. Dick knew that he was far from satisfied with that answer.

"Look, I'm sorry. Is it wrong to be curious?" The hypocrisy of that line didn't strike him until after he'd said it. Nico didn't reply. Instead, he stormed the rest of the way across his room and out onto his balcony. Dick let him go, figuring it was only natural to need some air and some space to think. If he'd known what Nico was thinking, he would have reconsidered.

++Nico++

Nico was livid. What was with this family and boundaries? He left for his balcony, his own room had begun to feel suffocating.

He could tell that Dick had not followed him but he could also feel his eyes burning into his back. He had to blow off steam but he didn't want to take it out on Dick. In all likelihood, he had actually not meant to eavesdrop. His argument with Damian was just too fresh for him to look at this objectively. 

Deciding that he needed space and that using the stairs was just too bothersome, Nico decided to let the intrusive thoughts win. He carefully got up on the railing, only being on the second story in the first place, and dropped off the edge. He could hear Richard give a yelp of surprise, but he was too far away to really be of much help.

For the half second he was falling, it almost felt peaceful. He came out of the fall in a forward roll with enough momentum to keep running after he got up. He had learned the trick from his experiences with the lava wall at Camp Halfblood. After he came out of the roll, he ran around the manor just as fast as he could and he was down the block before the manor door even opened. He ducked into an alley and shadow-traveled a couple of blocks down before he started walking.

He just wanted to take a walk and he was sure that the others would not have allowed him to after what happened last time. Especially not at night. He knew that he could protect himself but of course, the rest of the family didn't know that. He couldn't expose himself to the mortals. Though this time he had come up with a way to avoid that. he would just use his silver dagger. It was unconventional but it wouldn't raise too many questions if he got caught with it. Having learned his lesson well from last time, stuck to the shadows more and paid much more attention to his surroundings.

The night was falling, so the shadows were getting stronger and darker. It was almost perfect for shadow travel. He looked at the sunset, if he left now, he could make it to camp before the campfire. He debated it for a little while but ultimately decided to stay in Gotham. He didn't want to end up stranded somewhere should he fail to reach his destination again. Plus, he wasn't sure if he would have the energy to travel back in the same night, even if it was dark. It would just be a logistical nightmare.

As he walked, he ran into someone that he hadn't thought he would again for a long time. Pamela Isley. She looked different than she had before. Her pale skin now was tinted green. Her ruby-red lips now looked to be green as well. She had also traded in her lab coat for a bathing suit made out of leaves. Nico briefly wondered how that worked before deciding that it wasn't important.

She knelt in front of one of the mansion's front yards. She seemed to be cooing to the wilting rose bush, calling it things like: 'baby's and 'sweets'. Something about her aura was also strange. As he soul searched her, he realized that her soul had been infused with half that of a dryad's spirit. (Sue me, I changed it). 

The dryad seemed to have gone mad when their souls fused, thus turning Pam into a hardcore environmentalist. She was also somewhat immortal in this state. Dryad never truly died, they were reincarnated. Human souls aren't able to be reincarnated, thus the dryad part of her soul would fight to live, and it would probably end up sustaining the human part of her soul for as long as it could. Without thinking, Nico approached her. She was too caught up with the plant to notice him until he spoke to her.

"Hello Pamela, long time no see." Pamela turned her unnaturally green eyes towards him with a look of confusion laced with distant recollection. It was now that he briefly wondered if he had made a poor choice.

"You are familiar. State your name, stranger." She was much more formal than he remembered to be. Must've been a fairly old dryad. Pamela wouldn't have as much time as he had first thought.

"It's me, Nico di Angelo." Recognition struck Pam hard and she blinked several times as if coming out of a daze, or the bush might have told her something (It was impossible to tell). 

"I do remember you! You're the boy that stopped by my botany exhibit at the college and career fair in New York. You were with that nice young boy with the reed pipes. You didn't have a green bone in your body, much less a thumb," Pam recalled almost fondly.

"Yeah, I still don't. I don't have much skill with plants," Nico admitted, shifting almost uncomfortably in his place. Last time she saw them she had given them both a potted Easter Lily. Grover's had flourished. Nico's had barely lasted a week.

"Yes, well the entire world can't have a green thumb, unfortunately." Pamela looked sorrowfully at the dying roses.

"Look, Pamela..." Nico started.

"It's Ivy now, Poison Ivy," She interrupted. 

"Really? When did this happen?"

"I would really rather not get into all the details. I really just want to save this poor guy. Someone put Round-Up Weed Killer on it. Weed Killer! The nerve of them! Trying to kill something so pure..." Ivy drifted off, kneeling back down to be level with the bush she stroked a couple of its leaves longingly.

"I can't help, I'm sorry. I would probably only make things worse. I hope you can save it, Ivy. Have a good night," Nico said in parting. He moved around the crazed woman that he used to know and headed further into downtown Gotham. The state that Ivy had been in was firmly lodged in his mind. What had happened to that scientist he'd once known? Gotham took everything pure that dared step foot in this city and managed to pervert it somehow. Gotham truly was a twisted place.

Anger built up inside him as he considered several different and increasingly unlikely scenarios about what had happened to Pamela. As he kept going he felt an irrational urge to punch something. So naturally, when his least favorite clown popped up right in his face, Nico didn't hesitate to clock him in the nose. It was more of a gut reaction than anything else. Joker obviously hadn't expected that response because he fell right on his butt and stayed there looking at Nico.

He sat, looking up at the boy. Blood flowed freely from his left nostril but he did nothing to stunt the flow. Joker started cackling all at once, his body wracked with laughter. He sprawled out on the pavement laughing, getting his coat incredibly dirty. Nico stood by silently, watching the scene unfold. Nico has his fists clenched and his feet spread in a defensive stance. He must admit that the clown had given him quite the shock. He hadn't meant to punch him, not that he regretted it. He'd actually have liked to do it again.

The Joker slowly composed himself, still sitting where he fell. His smile had not dimmed in the slightest, in fact, Nico noticed, it seemed to have grown. The clown stood and brought himself to his full height, standing about a good 4 to 6 inches taller than Nico, who had only recently hit his growth spurt. Nico stood at a solid 5'6 and was still growing. The Joker must have been 6' at least. Everything in his gut was telling him to run, but he didn't. Instead, he stood there watching the clown's blood drip onto his lime green shirt.

"You've got quite the punch there, Snowy. Though wasn't that a bit much? I was just walking along, minding my own business..." Joker was cut off by an irritated demigod.

"We both know that you never mind your own business, so cut the crap, would you? I'm not in the mood," He spat, meeting the Joker's gaze, undaunted.

"Ooh! Feisty tonight are we? Did someone leave the toy out of your happy meal?" Joker called at his own joke while Nico glared at him.

"No, I'm not quite that ticked off... yet," Nico replied snarling. Joker smiled genuinely, having taken his comment as sarcasm.

"You do have a sense of humor!"

"No, I just really hate careless McDonald's workers." Nico sighed and rubbed his hand down his face. He was not having this conversation with a die-hard circus performer.

The Joker laughed hysterically again, much to Nico's annoyance, "So you do like happy meals!? Aren't you just full of surprises!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can't afford much else and I might as well have something to entertain me." Nico grumbled. That wasn't entirely a lie either. He didn't have too much mortal cash on hand at any one time, you tended not to get robbed that way. He couldn't really afford much other than fast food and he preferred McDonald's.

"Ahhh I see! So tell me, where is your real family? If we really are 'cutting the crap' as you put it, we both know that Brucie isn't your real dad." Joker grinned and sat on a nearby crate. Nico's eyes flashed in anger. It wasn't anyone's (especially not this clown's) business where his parents were. He also had trouble believing that he was talking about his family to a high-profile criminal.

"They're dead."  Nico made a move to leave but Joker grabbed him by his upper arm and pulled him back. When their eyes met, Nico could tell that he was still talking to a calmer version of the Joker. One that was almost civilized.

"Oh, don't leave now. We are just getting to know each other!" He whined like a little child.

"I don't want get to know you," Nico replied matter-of-factly. The calmness in the clown's eyes disappeared and Nico knew that he was now talking to the dangerous version.

"Well, that's not very nice! I think I need to teach you about respect, Snowman." Before Nico knew what was happening, Joker had pulled a crowbar out, seemingly from thin air. He still had a tight grip on Nico's arms and he saw no way to force his way free. He would have to rely on the single dagger he had concealed in his jacket pocket. As Joker shifted his grip to his collar, Nico reached into his jacket pocket and palmed the dagger. When Joker swung down towards his head with the crowbar, he brought the now full-sized dagger up to meet it.

Sparks flew and the shock was enough to force the Joker to lose his grip on his collar. Nico pulled back several feet, leaving plenty of space between them. He didn't have time to turn and run before the clown was swinging at him again. This time, he didn't wait for the blow to connect. He lunged forward and slashed Joker across the chest. The gash was small, barely even a scratch, but it was enough for the Joker to stumble back and into the crates, he had perched on before. Not waiting for him to stand, Nico, got up and sprinted back toward the manor. He didn't know if the Wayne's were searching for him still or not but it seemed to be his best bet to get back there.

He couldn't use his powers, the Joker is a mortal. Also, he didn't want to waste his energy in case he were to fail and travel to China. He could hear the mad clown keeping pace with him just a little ways back. He pushed himself to run faster until he was going at his top speed. As he ran, he saw Ivy still knelt by the dying plant. If she was still his friend, she might help him. If not, she could make his situation worse. He decided as the Joker cackled maniacally behind him, that he would have to risk it. He couldn't keep this pace up all the way to the manor and he didn't know if the clown could either.

When he got within earshot he called out to her breathlessly, "Pamela! Pam! Ivy! Help! He's tryna kill me!" He cried, still running. Pamela looked up from her baby with a look of confusion plastered on her face. Her intelligent eyes took in his situation in a matter of moments and in an instant she waved her hand toward the two. Vines wrapped roughly around his body and he had a sinking feeling that he had chosen wrong.

He just hoped she would make his death quick.