- I'm Nico di Angelo, Son of Hades.
I control the shadows.
     They do not control me -

"So where were you?" Will demanded. He was wearing a green surgeon's shirt with jeans and flip-flops, which was probably not standard hospital protocol.

"What do you mean?" Nico asked.

"I've been stuck in the infirmary for, like, two days. You don't come by. You don't offer to help."

"I... What? Why would you want a son of Hades in the same room with people you're trying to heal? Why would anyone want that?"

"You can't help out a friend? Maybe cut bandages? Bring me a soda or a snack? Or just a simple 'How's it going Will?' you don't think I could stand to see a friendly face?"

"What? ... my face?" The words simply didn't make sense together: Friendly face. Nico di Angelo.

"You're so dense," Will noted. "I hope you got over that nonsense about leaving Camp Half-Blood."

"I- yeah. I did. I mean, I'm staying."

"Good. So you may be dense, but you're not an idiot."

"How can you even speak to me like that? Don't you know I could summon zombies and skeletons and-"

"Right now you couldn't even summon a wishbone without melting into a puddle of darkness, di Angelo," Will said. "I told you, no more underworld magic. You owe me at least three days of rest in the infirmary. Starting now."

Nico felt like a hundred skeleton butterflies came to life in his stomach. "Three days?... I- I suppose that would be okay."

"Good. Now..."