The lights above me hummed softly, blurring together with the sound of Annabeth's voice, she was reading off some form to make sure all of the information on it was right. I heard her distantly, stating my age: sixteen, my full name: Nico di Angelo, the year I was diagnosed: nine years ago in 2006, but my gaze was focused on the corner, where Will stood, a conspiring glint in his eye. I couldn't help myself, my lips pulled themselves into a smile

Annabeth stopped speaking abruptly, and my attention switched back to her. She glanced over at the corner where Will was. "Nico, what are you looking at?"

I laughed like she'd said something absurd, "Will."

She rose an eyebrow, "Will?"

I nodded, "He's right there."

I didn't understand why everyone liked to pretend he didn't exist. It was rude and I was suprised that Will didn't get upset about it, but he was a forgiving person. He didn't let a lot get to him, that's part of the reason why I liked him.

Annabeth scribbled something into a notebook. My last doctor had done the same thing, her name had been Charlotte, but she'd retired, and now Annabeth was here to 'help me.' They all wanted to help me, but I didn't need help, I wasn't sick or anything.

"What's she writing about you?" I snapped my attention around to the back corner, but no one was there.

Annabeth was pulling out a drawer in her large, oak desk, sorting through it. She came up with a manilla folder with my name printed on it. I knew that folder, it was the one Charlotte had kept all of her notes in. "Will. . . He's your friend?" she said after scanning through its contents.

I nodded, "Yeah. . ." My cheeks heated up, Actually, he's my boyfriend, but I didn't say it, I didn't want to see the look on her face if I did.

She sat back in her chair, her brow furrowing, she had the back end of her pen stuck between her teeth, and she pulled it from her mouth to speak, "That's unusual."

"Unusual?" I ignored the Voice, they were almost always jerks to me, so I normally didn't pay them any attention when I could. I never saw their owners either, they were clever, always hiding in places I couldn't find them. "She thinks you're insane, Nico."

"I'm not crazy," I blurted, my hands tightened on my armrests.

Annabeth nodded, smiling like we were sharing a joke, "I know. A lot of people think all schizophrenics are insane, but I know better."

There was that word again: schizophrenic. I hated that word. I wasn't hallucinating.

"Then, why is it unusual?"

Annabeth considered me for a moment, "Most of the time. . . people's hallucinations aren't friendly, Nico. They're. . . well, they're not the way you describe Will at all."

A hand touched my shoulder and I jumped, I hadn't seen Will walk over. "But I'm nice," he told me, and I laughed, rolling my eyes. Annabeth seemed confused.

"I know you are."

Will grinned and perched himself on my armrest, "Good."

I remembered the first time I'd met Will. I'd been in preschool, and he'd been playing with some blocks, no one else was paying him any attention, no one ever did, I'd learned. I'd gone over to him and introduced myself, and we became friends, just like that. The memory was a bit hazy, I didn't remember the details, but all of my early memories were out of focus, it was normal. I did know that I wasn't good at approaching people like that anymore, or even talking to them, especially when Will wasn't around. He gave me confidence.

Annabeth glanced at Will, and then her eyes shifted back to me. "Do you have any other friends, Nico?"

I rose my eyebrows at her, "Do you see anyone else in the room? Well, besides the Voices, but you can't see Voices. Sometimes other things drop by, but I don't. . . know what or who they are, it's always random. And they aren't what I'd call friends." I blew out a breath, I didn't like talking about the Others, they scared me. "And by the way, Will doesn't like being called a hallucination."

Will grunted in agreement, "Hallucination," he scoffed. "Could a hallucination do this?" He tugged on a strand of my hair and I swatted his hand away, glaring at him playfully.

Annabeth nodded slowly, "Voices?"

"You can't hear them?" I shook my head, "Never mind. No one can. . ." I sighed. "Just a couple of minutes ago, one of them said that you think I'm insane." I gestured over towards her bookcase, "I think it was over there, but I never see them, so it's hard to be sure."

Annabeth scribbled down another note and then glanced up at the clock, "It looks like your session is almost over, and I want to talk to your parents before my next appointment."

I nodded and stood up, "I'll see you next week."

Annabeth smiled back at me as she stood up, "Mm-hm."

Will held out his hand and I slipped mine into it, entwining our fingers. I glanced back at the psychiatrist, but she was busy rearranging her notes and I figured she'd follow on her own time, so Will and I made our way out the door.

"Tell your parents I want to talk to them!" she called after us, and I nodded, tugging Will out the door.

My parents stood up as we exited, my mom was clutching her purse worriedly and her eyebrows were drawn together. Her dark hair was being held back by couple of pins, and it fell just past her shoulders, framing her tan features, she would've looked a lot younger than 45 if it wasn't for the thin grey streak that had begun to cut through her hair. My father stood a full head taller than her, his expression was clouded over even though his lips were smiling. His business suit made him look foreboding in some strange way. They always looked tense whenever I came out of that office, like they were bracing themselves for bad news.

"She wants to talk with you," I informed them, shifting from foot to foot nervously. Will gave my hand a soft squeeze.

"Okay," Maria told me, smiling. "Why don't you go wait in the lobby while we talk?"

I knew what she was really saying, Go somewhere where you can't hear us talking about you, but I didn't make any comment. I knew it was better to play dumb, that way they didn't expect anything and it made it a lot easier to listen in.

I nodded and followed Will past them to the lobby around the corner. We stood close by the wall, listening intently.

"You should just run away with me, Nico. These people treat you like you're a freak."

I shushed him, "They'll hear you."

Will raised his eyebrows disbelievingly, "They always pretend they can't hear me. They'd be giving themselves away if they said they could now."

I laughed breathily, "You're getting cocky." I whispered to him, and he grinned, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Mr. and Mrs. di Angelo, I assume?" That was Annabeth's voice. Will tensed, his lips drawing into a thin line. He knew that I wasn't going to like what I was about to hear, but he also knew he'd never be able to talk me out of listening. I deserved to know exactly what they thought of me.

I turned away from him, bracing my hands against the wall and leaning forward as far as I dared. Will pressed close behind me, probably both trying to comfort me and wanting to hear what was being said as well.

"Yes, it's nice to meet you." That was Hades, I imagined them shaking hands, exchanging smiles.

"I can already tell that you're going to do a fantastic job." Now it was my mom's turn to shake her hand, smiling and clasping Annabeth's hand in both of her small but strong ones.

"Thank you, both. Nico seems to be a particularly interesting case." She wasn't wasting any time making small talk, she was right down to business. "Charlotte seemed to think that Nico was slowly. . . er, going off the deep end," She said it awkwardly with a hint of disbelief in her voice, "but I have a different theory."

This got my attention, and Will squeezed my shoulder, sucking in a quiet, sharp breath. He was probably thinking something along the lines of: What if she believes that I'm real?

"I know," I whispered to him.

"Really?" My mom sounded just as surprised and hopeful as I felt.

"Already?" My father was much the same.

I imagined Annabeth nodded, because she didn't say anything to confirm their questions. "As you probably already know, schizophrenia is very rare in children, it only happens in one out of every forty thousand children versus one in every one hundred adults, but Nico has reported seeing Will since his preschool years, and he started seeing and hearing other things around the time he was diagnosed."

There was a brief pause, my parents were probably nodding, looking as impatient as I felt. We already know all of this. Get on with it.

"I'm not sure why Charlotte didn't consider this before, but I think that Nico has been living with this for so long that he's just become accustomed to seeing and hearing things that other people don't, especially since Will," she said his name like she was putting air-quotes around it, "doesn't seem to be the average type of hallucination that we normally see. He's not violent or scary, he doesn't loom in corners or whisper negative things at Nico, from what your son says, he's just a normal person. . . besides the fact that he isn't real, of course.

"The point is that Nico isn't crazy, he just has a hard time admitting that the things he sees and hears aren't real because they're normal to him. Imagine if someone told you that a picture that's been sitting on your shelf all your life wasn't real, you wouldn't believe them. You could see it and touch it, so it must be real, but they were telling you that they couldn't see it or feel it, there was just empty space there. You would think they were lying, and I imagine that's how Nico is feeling."

My parents were silent for a couple of long seconds, and then they both started talking frantically at the same time, but I didn't hear them, I felt sick. They knew that I could feel Will, they knew how real he was. "Will, are you sure you're actually here?"

"Of course I am." He sounded offended and slightly angry, "I thought you knew that. Don't tell me you're starting to believe them, Nico. You're not crazy. . . or schizophrenic, or whatever."

"I know." I whispered, but I didn't quite believe myself.

"He's lying to you, you know." The Voice was laced with laughter.

I clenched my teeth and forced myself to turn and face Will instead of the Voice. They were the liars, Will always told the truth. My boyfriend looked deathly serious, his face was all worried lines and confused edges. It wasn't the Will I knew, the Will I knew was always positive. Well, not always, sometimes he was different, sometimes he scared me, but that was a rare occurrence.

I shook my head, "I know I'm not crazy." I straightened my shoulders as I spoke, filling my voice with confidence.

Will's face immediately melted back to normal and he kissed my forehead softly, "That's better."

"Come on, let's get away from here so they don't realize we were eavesdropping."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Will?"

"Hm?"

"What about the Voices and the Others?" I wondered as he pulled me down onto the couch.

Will looked amused, brushing hair out of my face. "I already told you, they're real too, but I'm here to protect you. You don't have to worry about them."

I nodded slowly, "Yeah, okay."

Will pulled me into him, and we stayed like that, my head resting on his chest, his arms secured around me, until my parents came to get us.

What had I been thinking? How could someone like Will be just a figment of my imagination?

     -IWrteFicNotTragedies