Chapter Text
Will Solace doesn’t have a soulmate.
Everybody else has one. He sees people pause for a moment during class as they feel a papercut from across the globe. He can see them walking next to each other with identical limps. He still remembers that time that Mary-Anne accidentally stapled her finger, and Samira almost fell out of her chair from across the room.
The concept of soulmates has been around since the beginning of time. His teachers talk about the Greek myth (internally, Will corrects them — Greek history ) where a person was born with two faces, two sets of arms, two hearts. Zeus, fearful of the idea of human ambition and power, clutched his power to his chest with a simple order to Apollo (Will’s dad), who promptly tore humanity in half.
Life, then, is a search for your other half. The person who changes your life the most. Your lover, your best friend, your worst enemy.
Life, then, is about feeling complete. Feeling pain when your soulmate does. Being one.
Will isn’t so sure he buys into the Greek story, because not everybody has a soulmate. Like him, or his mom, who says that Will is all that she needs. But Will isn’t like her, she knows that. He gets that from his father. His golden glow & sky blue eyes & penchant for wanting to be liked.
Will has always wished that he got his mother’s strength, her constant smile, her unshakeable spine. Sometimes, he thinks that she wished that too. After all, she named him Will.
Time goes on. Will starts to build that backbone. He is, after all, the child of a god.
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a soulmate. Gods spend their days teasing with humans, dipping in and out of what they consider love. Will may not know the kind of love that’s in movies, but he does know this: his mom working late nights to make sure she can make Will breakfast every day, his mom watching movies with him even when she’s tired, his mom dedicating her life to making sure that Will is happy. He’s never seen this kind of love from his father. Maybe it’s genetic.
Of course, that line of thought gets crushed when he goes to camp. But the first part doesn’t.
Will plays with his friends at recess, pushes down that flutter in his stomach as he tackles his friend Devon down to get the soccer ball — a completely illegal move, but who cares — and smiles at Millie Jones when she glances at him in the hallway. He likes the flush on her cheeks, he thinks. He likes her.
He’s eleven when they kiss for the first time, and it’s the first time that Will thinks that it’s alright that he doesn’t have a soulmate. Plenty of people are happy without soulmates. Look at his mom. Look at his neighbor, Mr. Williams. Even if Millie was only his girlfriend for a week, because she got tired of sitting with him at lunch. Will gets over it by the time Devon and Toby finish playing a game of basketball with him.
Besides, Millie spends too much time talking about her soulmate. She has the special kind, you see, and she can actually see every little injury. Most people only feel the pain, they don’t get the injury, but lucky Millie! She has them all! Though her soulmate doesn’t seem like they have very many scrapes, so Will doubts how much of the truth she’s actually saying.
Will tries to slam dunk the basketball one day, failing epically, and tumbles into the ground. Red blossoms over his leg. He’ll remember this moment for years to come, not just because it’s when he first realized he wants to heal people.
“ Sick, Will.” Devon says in awe.
Will glances at Devon’s knee. It’s the same dark brown as always. He doesn’t know why he bothered to look.
He wonders if somewhere in the world, another kid is looking down at his leg, and wondering why does my leg hurt so much? It’s the crazy spiral of hope that always swirls around in his stomach, the one that he only lets his mother see.
The next day, in the middle of class, Will’s finger starts stinging. There’s no paper cut to be found. Will blinks.
Toby sees him sticking his thumb in his mouth. “ Dude.”
“Papercut,” Will explains. Toby’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as Will takes his thumb out.
Then it hits him.
---
Will doesn’t expect Nico di Angelo to be a short, scrawny kid his age. But he had been at home when Nico had first come to camp. While Nico was heady with the onslaught of a beginning, a new father, a dead sister, Will Solace was in Texas, heady with the sky and the heat and everything that was as close to summer as winter could manage.
So the first time Will sees Nico di Angelo is during war, red flashing in the corners of his vision and his second home falling to pieces in front of his eyes. For the gods, everybody claims, but Will doesn’t know how many people are just fighting for the family that’s dying around them.
Nico is an entirely different entity.
But Will’s damned if Nico di Angelo isn’t made for saving the world, a battle cry on the edges of his lips and an undead army tugging at the ends of his fingers.
Then Will continues on his way. There are people to heal, and that’s what Will’s made for.
---
His mother is a musician. When he was little, Will used to grab her guitar and pluck at the strings discordantly. Time passed, and eventually his mom taught him the basics. He could never make it sound as natural as she did, though, but Naomi Solace breezes through life with a dimpled grin and a melody on the edges of her lips. When Will discovered his father was the god of music, it took years for a vague image of Apollo to appear at the strum of a guitar. The picture of the peace in his mother’s eyes is always a constant.
It’s three months after the Battle of the Labyrinth, and there’s the strum of a guitar from Kayla’s bunk. Will thinks of his mother’s fingers guiding his fingers over the strings for the first time, of learning music for the first time. His father is an afterthought.
Except now. Now, there’s a war going on, and the gods are on the forefront of their minds. Just like how his siblings are at the forefront of the battlefields, how the demigods are at the forefront of the dead. Here Camp Half-Blood is, fighting to save the gods while they watch from Olympus. Demigods on both sides, waging a war for people who never give them a second thought.
Lee’s golden shroud is permanently burnt into Will’s vision. Does Apollo even know his son is dead?
Kayla is still playing the guitar.
“Hey, Kayla,” he says, approaching her bed. She scoots over, humming in response, and Will slides into the spot she’s made. For a moment he doesn’t speak, instead drinking in the cabin. The red and blue hyacinths curve in the sunlight; the scent of sage lingers in Kayla’s sheets; a coat is thrown over Austin’s bed. Lee’s bunk is still cluttered with his things. With all the reparations going on, Michael hadn’t figured out a good time to clean it.
Will means to ask Kayla what she’s playing. But even as he’s sitting there, Kayla still keeps her fingers brushing over the strings, and a wave of homesickness washes over him. So, instead, what comes out is, “I miss my mom.”
He is thirteen.
“I miss my dad.”
She is eleven.
They’re all so young.
“You know, one time, I got a really bad grade on my English project in school. It sounds stupid, I know, but it was like second grade, and I was super torn up about it.” Will pauses, thinks about the laughter from that spring day. “That’s the first day my mom taught me how to play the guitar.”
Kayla looks up at him with red eyes. “I learned when Lee showed me.”
Will’s breath catches in his throat. With all that’s going on, this is the first time that Will has truly allowed himself to think of his brother. And it’s only because Kayla’s caught him off guard, and her hands are shaking, and she looks like she’s about to start crying. And Kayla’s probably tougher than he is. She’s out on the battlefield, while Will stays behind to make sure that he can put together the pieces of whoever comes back.
“Lee— he died fighting. He’s in Elysium.” Will feels slightly better, knowing that his brother is safe and has no more wars to get involved in.
But Kayla isn’t. “He’s not here, though.”
Both of them can’t stop looking at Lee’s bed. Will wraps his arms around his little sister as sobs wrack her body, and wishes that his mom was here. Even if only for a few minutes, even if only for the amount of time it would take her to give him one hug. Even if only for a second to say goodbye.
The door cuts open their silence as Austin and Michael walk in. There are serious looks on their face, and it’s hard to remember that they’re twelve and fifteen with the sorrow lined in their face. But whatever they’re talking about is quickly discarded.
Austin heads over to them; Michael goes over to Lee’s bed. Will thinks that he realizes it’s finally time to clean up.
“Kayla?” Austin holds his hand out to her, but her face is buried in Will’s shoulder. He looks at Will helplessly, so Will holds out a hand to his brother. Austin has calloused fingers from all the time he spends in the outdoors, shooting bows and fighting. None of it was enough to save their brother, Will thinks, but smiles anyways as Austin takes his hand. And he squeezes it when a tear slides down his cheek.
There are more of his brothers and sisters, of course. But this — this is the first time, in a really, really, long while, that Will is finally himself. A smile isn’t plastered to his face. The weight of the world isn’t on his shoulders.
( That’s on Michael, who’s still cleaning Lee’s belongings and trying to pretend that he doesn’t want to join them. Michael doesn’t have time to cry, not when he’s trying to run the cabin. He’s trying to be strong, and Will makes a note to talk to him later. )
Finally, in the privacy of the Apollo cabin, his home, Will allows himself to grieve.
And it’s a long process. There’s the few months that he goes back to school, and tells his mom everything, falling into her hug. He cries for a long time, then. But then he has to go to camp, and then he has to go to battle. He has to watch as his family dies. Because Will has never been a fighter, he’s always been the person to try to piece everyone back together so they can go out back and try to die again. He wishes he could fight, but then he feels the fluttering heartbeat of a camper, slowly pulling itself back to normal because of his magic, and he takes it back.
Will heals Annabeth, and seeing Percy Jackson, he can tell that the two of them are soulmates. Percy can’t even stand up, but even without the pain, the look in his eyes is enough.
The worst thing is watching campers fall down two by two, two by two.
And then they burn Michael’s shroud, and the weight of the world is on Will. But he’s not like Michael, so he lets himself cry. Austin and Kayla cry with him.
There’s a point in time where he tries to get to know Nico di Angelo, the mysterious son of Hades who somehow brought a god to save them all. Some of the campers are bitter; the sentiments that caused so many to join Kronos haven’t completely faded out. After all — look at all the credit they got. But Nico seems to be having the time of his life, even with the scratch across his cheek, and Will doesn’t bother.
He’s healing, anyways. Becoming himself. He’s wiping away Kayla’s tears and nudging smiles onto Austin’s face, and in the emptiness of the Apollo cabin, grieving.
Thanks, Dad.
---
He hurts, sometimes. But his soulmate never shows up.
---
In-between time is good. In-between time means that they don’t have to think about the war.
Unfortunately, Lou Ellen has decided to think about her soulmate instead. “What do you think he looks like?” she asks, brown eyes shining in the sunlight. They’re supposed to be prepping for training; instead, Will and Lou Ellen have decided to skive and hide behind the strawberry fields instead.
“Yours?” Will’s response is a little bit startled; he hasn’t come out to Lou Ellen yet. Or to anyone, really.
“Um, duh.”
Will pushes aside the burning in his chest in order to spin Lou Ellen a story. “You know, Lou, I bet that he looks like an elf. Evil pointy ears and all that. And spends all day holed up in a little cave. And tells jokes that aren’t funny. The male version of you.”
Lou Ellen shifts to look at him. “William Solace, are you saying that my soulmate is Leo Valdez?”
Only a beat skips past. “I said the male version of you, didn't I? He’s way too good for you.” She shoves him. “What? Hero of the prophecy and all that.”
“Oh, come on,” Lou Ellen sighs, “I can snap my fingers, and boom - suddenly you’re in your underpants in front of the whole camp. What does dragon boy have that’s better than that?”
“A dragon.”
“Shit, you’re right.”
“I’d say he was even better if he ever actually showed up to activities.” Will remembers the first time he met Leo. Leo was older than him, yet he was still full of the fascination that most demigods had when they realized their true identity. None of that spark was left in any of the demigods that had fought in the Titan War.
Will is only fourteen, but sometimes he feels so much older.
“Anyways, onto you.” Lou Ellen has a sly look on her face, freckles popping off of her brown skin. “Your soulmate? I bet she’s going to be just as sickly sweet as you are. Watch her name be like Honey, or Poppy, or Baby —” Will shoves her. She breaks out into laughter. “Baby and Will. Waby. Bill. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
And maybe it’s because of the slight breeze in the wind and the way it’s teasing knots through both of their hairs, or maybe it’s the way the grass curls around their limbs, or maybe it’s because Will feels like he’s laughed more than he has in these past few moments than he has in the past few years. Whatever reason, he speaks with a laugh and a waver in his undertone.
“Actually, when I was little, I used to think my soulmate was a kid named Devon.” His fingers twist around the grass.
“She sounds like some typical blonde white girl. I thought better of you, Will.” Lou Ellen’s laughing, but not really paying attention. The narrowing of her eyes shows that she’s more focused on trying to formulate a plan to steal strawberries than in what Will’s trying to say. Lou Ellen’s new, after all, fresh off the demigod boat.
“Yeah, well, we— we all make mistakes.” Will swallows and forces out a laugh.
Lou Ellen holds up a finger. “Pause this conversation for one sec, okay? I’m gonna go grab some strawberries, and try to make sure that the satyr patrol doesn’t catch me.” Will nods. “Okay, but if I get caught, you’re going down with me, just so you know!”
She springs up, just like that, and Will wonders what life would have been like if he never discovered he was a demigod, or hadn’t really found out until this year.
He’s fourteen, and he should be going to school right now. But attacks had gotten worse after the war, and it came to the point where he just didn’t want to put his mom in so much danger anymore. Even though it meant leaving her. But at least he can see her right now, staring up at the sky.
Everyone here’s always said that Will gets his eyes from his father, except for Austin. Austin had come to visit him once, back when Will was eleven and Austin was ten. Austin had looked at Will’s mom, and as soon as she left the room to heat up some pizza, looked at him with his solemn eyes and proclaimed, “You look exactly like your mama.”
Will watches Lou Ellen sneak up to the strawberries. She shoves some in her basket. There’s a wildness to Lou Ellen, something in the frizziness of her curls or the illicit piercing in the corner of her ears, or the way her smile tilts to the side. She’s pretty.
“Lou,” he starts under his breath, “I like girls.”
Will cocks his head to the side. “Well no shit,” he says, attempting his best imitation of Lou’s voice.
“But— but, I also like guys. Like, Devon, he was a guy.”
It’s the first time he’s tried this. But Lou Ellen is like him; she’s from Alabama, with a southern twang to her voice and a spring in her step. If anyone will understand feeling like you didn’t belong, it’s Lou Ellen. Plus, there’s only so much that Will can bottle in, and his siblings shouldn’t be the ones to see the output.
And Lou Ellen didn’t spend her childhood in a war. She spent it with her father.
“Hey, what’s up?” Her cheeks are tinted pink, and strawberries spill from her hands and into Will’s hands.
“Shit, Lou, how many did you take?” Will’s interrupted from his internal conflict by this development.
The pink on Lou Ellen flushes a deep red. “Ellis is always talking about how there’s never enough strawberries, I thought I’d give him some so that he shuts up.”
Will just nods.
“Do you not believe me or something?”
“Devon’s a boy,” Will blurts out.
He hadn’t had a chance to imagine Lou Ellen’s reaction. But whatever he could have thought of — an awkward hug, a long, dragging silence, an ugly chuckle — would have been extremely far from the truth. Because Lou Ellen’s in the middle of eating a strawberry. Seconds tick by as she finishes eating it. Neatly, she wipes her hands on her jeans to get rid of any juice.
Then, finally. “Okay, cool, looool.”
Will blinks. And then: “Did you just say LOL out loud?”
“Do you want to fight me, Will Solace?”
And that’s that.
---
“So do you think Sherman’s your soulmate? Or Mitchell? Oh my gods, what about Butch? Rainbow guy and sunshine dude, breaking hearts together?”
“I like girls too, Lou.”
“So it could be anyone. In this whole camp.”
“ And in the mortal world.”
“ Chop chop , bitch. We better get looking then.”
---
War is back. Every time that Will fights, he wonders how he ever thought that they’d have peace. And now, especially, with demigods fighting demigods, it’s almost like the fabric of the universe is tearing itself apart.
Well, that’s an exaggeration. But with the literal earth against them, their odds aren’t good. Especially for a medic whose only skill is healing and sonic whistles. Not to mention his soulmate’s constantly on the verge of death. Will’s always throbbing with injuries, his throat constricted in await of the next sharp pinch. Once, he was in the middle of training, and a sharp enough stab of pain in his head knocked him out. Another time, it felt as if he were being clawed to pieces. There was a single second where Will tried to give someone a shot, but he couldn’t feel his hands.
It was a good thing that nothing had happened when he was delivering Mellie’s baby; that would have been a hurdle and a half. A fifteen year old coaching a cloud nymph on giving birth. Inhale, exhale, he had told her, all the while trying to make sure he wasn’t blown away. Not to mention Hedge — he was an obstacle of his own.
But this is war, and he doesn’t have much more time to focus on his soulmate than it takes to send a quick prayer up to the gods that they’ll be safe. One second, he’s standing with Lou Ellen and Cecil and they’re talking about how Damien really had to take the last training practice a little less seriously, and the next, they’ve somehow volunteered to sneak into the Roman camp. Probably because Will’s still traumatized from the whole giving birth debacle. It’s a suicide mission, but Will stands up a little bit straighter, remembering Michael and Lee. Cecil has the bright idea to dress in all black.
They’re crouching in the grass, Lou Ellen using the Mist to hide any traces of them, when Will notices a figure dressed in a — is that a Hawaiian t-shirt? ** “Nico?”
Nico, in return, decides to try to decapitate him.
“Put that down!” Will doesn’t want to die via a short, scrawny fourteen year old. “What are you doing here?
“Me? What are you doing? Getting yourselves killed?” Nico di Angelo hasn’t been to camp in months. Will remembers trying to get to know him, though he never got close enough.
Seriously, Will has a little bit more of a right to ask what Nico is doing. “Hey, we’re scouting the enemy. We took precautions.”
‘You dressed in black with the sun coming up. You painted your face but didn’t cover that mop of blond hair. You might as well be waving a yellow flag.”
Will resists the urge to curse at him. “Lou Ellen wrapped some Mist around us, too.” Will and Lou Ellen and Cecil don’t really want to die today.
Lou Ellen’s looking like a fairy, with her halo of hair and light spattering of freckles dusted on her nose and cheeks. Strike that — she looks like a baller fairy, with the streaks of black under her eyes. While wearing the all-black had been Cecil’s idea, the football stripes had been hers. Cecil and Lou Ellen were the funny ones of the bunch. All of them knew the Mist was enough.
“Hi.” Will’s already about to slap his hand across Lou Ellen’s mouth. “You’re Nico, right? I’ve heard a lot about you. And this is Cecil from Hermes cabin.”
“Did Coach Hedge make it to camp?” Nico’s coming to kneel next to them. Nico di Angelo, who had brushed him off years back when Will had tried to talk to him. Whatever. Will had been ten and a stuttering mess, trying to talk to the boy who had so much power. At least Percy was funny. Nico had just been intimidating.
Lou responds for him, before Will elbows her. “Did he ever.”
“Yeah.” Will rolled his eyes at Lou Ellen. “Hedge is fine. He made it just in time for the baby’s birth.”
“The baby!” Will wishes he could document this. Not only because it’s Nico di Angelo who’s smiling, but because every grin in the midst of battle is a smile worth saving. “Mellie and the kid are all right?”
“Fine. A very cute little satyr boy. But I delivered it. Have you ever delivered a baby?” Will shudders, thinking of the memory.
“Um, no.”
Cecil sniggers in the grass next to Will.
“I had to get some fresh air. That’s why I volunteered for this mission. Gods of Olympus, my hands are still shaking. See?” Will grabs Nico’s hand, which he regrets the second Nico snatches his hand away. But there’s something off about it. As if Nico’s hand is about to fade away. The weirdest part is, it feels familiar.
“Whatever.” The grimace is back on Nico’s face. “We don’t have time for chitchat. The Romans are attacking at dawn and I’ve got to—”
“We know,” They’re not idiots, after all, except maybe Lou Ellen sometimes. “But, if you’re planning to shadow-travel to that command tent, forget it.”
Nico’s glaring at him. “Excuse me?”
Will resists the urge to pull out one of Lou Ellen’s typical snaps. “Coach Hedge told me all about your shadow-travel. You can’t try that again.” He senses Cecil trying to hold back his laughter, considering that he had been nearby when Mellie had been giving birth. Actually, he hadn’t. Hedge had just been that loud.
“I just did try it again, Solace. I’m fine.” Nico is many things, but he is not fine.
“No, you’re not. I’m a healer. I could feel the darkness in your hand as soon as I touched it.” It was familiar. “Even if you made it to that tent, you’d be in no shape to fight. But you wouldn’t make it. One more slip, and you won’t come back. You are not shadow-travelling. Doctor’s orders.”
“The camp is about to be destroyed —”
“And we’ll stop the Romans. But we’ll do it our way. Lou Ellen will control the Mist. We’ll sneak around, do as much damage as we can to those onagers. But no shadow-travel.” Will thinks he sees the moment where Nico realizes that they aren’t complete idiots.
“But—”
“No.”
“Whatever. But we have to hurry. And you’ll follow my lead.”
“Fine. Just don’t ask me to deliver any more satyr babies and we’ll get along great.”[1]
---
Will comes into the infirmary, and he can barely even pick up the pen to sign in. It clatters through his fingers instead, but honestly, no one even notices with all the chaos happening inside. It’s far too full for his liking, and he’s supposed to manage it all. It was why Kayla had forced him to take a break today. The night shift is supposed to be easier; there’s not as much chaos, but to Will, it’s worse, because that means he has to deal with the nightmares.
“Will?” Will’s gaze shoots up sharply to meet Austin’s. Even though they look as different as night and day, it’s so obvious that they’re brothers. “Sit down.”
Will shakes his head. “No, it’s okay, it’ll go away after a bit.” It always does; for everybody, the pain doesn’t last as long as their soulmates have it for. Especially because Will’s never been in close proximity to his soulmate.
Seconds tick by. Will’s arms are defiantly crossed across his chest, and Austin just keeps looking at him. Will still can’t feel his hands. “Will.”
“Okay, fine,” Will concedes. “I’ll just— is that Nico?” Austin follows his gaze to where a black-clad grumpy teen is sitting on a bed.
Austin shrugs. “Yeah, he came in a couple minutes ago. I thought he was looking for you, what with your whole lost cases shit.” Will opens his mouth to speak. “Okay, thing. Anyways, I just told him to sit over there. Go do whatever the hell you want, but if your hands are still numb in ten minutes, then I’m gonna look at you.”
Will goes. Nico’s sitting with perhaps the most uncomfortable look on his face that Will has ever seen. “Come here often?”
Nico glances up with a scowl on his face. “Yes, definitely, all the time —”
“Okay, okay, Death Boy.” Will would have had held up his hands here. “I get it. You don’t like being around people.” Will’s hands are tingling.
“Maybe I just don’t like being around you,” Nico mutters under his breath.
Will’s eyes widen comically. “Oh man! And here I thought, you were sitting alone, waiting for me to save you from the scary man that is Austin Lake.” Will’s ninety-nine percent sure that Nico’s older than Austin. Either way, that whole time-traveling thing that he never really understood makes Nico older than all of them combined, probably.
Nico scowls. “No.”
Well, Nico knew how to suck all the fun out of the room. The war was over. They were alive. Where was his celebration? “Guess I’ll just go then, leave you alone here, make sure that Austin keeps you here until you actually tell us why you came.”
Nico groans. “Okay, fine.” As he slouches, Will catches a glimpse of his arm.
“Um. What the hell is that.” Will can see the moment that Nico follows Will’s gaze and realizes what he’s looking at. He makes a frantic dash to cover up his arm — like the damage hasn’t already been done — and instead, his fingers go straight through. “Wow, Nico, you’ve definitely convinced me that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. Especially the whole hands-going-through-your-arm thing. Yup, you can leave now.”
Will’s hands are pins and needles. He has a funny feeling in his stomach.
“Shut up, Solace.”
Will rolls his eyes, “Come here.” Nico doesn’t move. “Doctors orders, come on.” Grudgingly, Nico moves closer. Will rolls up his sleeve to see a horrid wound. Any sort of other thought flies out of his head at the sight of it. “Why didn’t you come earlier? Do you want to die a painful death?”
“Hedge healed it. He used sports medicine and nature magic.”
“So you were going to trust Hedge, instead of going to get it checked? What happened?” Nico mumbles something. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand bullshit.”
Nico rolls his eyes. “Lycaon. Got clawed.”
Will doesn’t know what to say to that besides, “You could have ducked.” His hands are back to normal now. “I’m going to look at it more carefully now. I’m warning you because it might hurt.”
“I got clawed by a werewolf. I’ve been stuck in a jar for weeks. Do you really think this is going to— Solace!” Will is too distracted by the pain rippling up his own arm to respond. This— his— Nico—
Nico shoves him. “I shouldn’t have let you look at it.”
Will shakes his head before responding. “Let me get the salve.” There’s a heat on his cheeks; thankfully, Nico doesn’t seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary.
As Will rummages in the cupboard for the salve, he notices Austin looking at him. “I’m fine!” Will calls over, doing jazz hands for extra effect. An amused grin slips onto his brother’s lips.
“You better not laugh at this, because I’m saving your life,” Will warns Nico as he sits back down next to him, dipping his finger into the green gunk. Slowly, he spreads it across the injury, at the same time, humming under his breath. Will’s never been good at music, not compared to his siblings, but this— this, he can do.
Nico’s looking at his arm with a horrified expression. “What are you doing?”
Will doesn’t respond, too busy humming and saving his arm and all that.
Eventually, he notices the expression on Nico’s face soften. He has a nice face, Nico, but his undereye shadows are too dark and his cheeks are little bit too hollow. He has the face of someone who’s been starved his whole life, whether for food or for friends or for family. Soulmate or not, Nico di Angelo needs company. Will vows to himself to give it to him.
Will finally sits back with a self-satisfied expression. “Well?”
Nico looks torn between telling the truth and murdering him. “ Well, my arm might be healing faster now.”
“Healing faster my ass. It’s healed.” Will slips off the bed. “Now, you’re going to take a nap. You already look like you’re going to melt into a puddle of death goop. If I see you awake before nine in the morning, I’m going to have to strap you to the bed.” Nico’s mouth drops open, like he’s about to retort, but then instead slides under the covers. “Yeah, that’s right.”
As Will’s heading for some bandages to patch up Gus’s arm, he passes Austin, who says, “Strapping him to the bed. How kinky.”
“Shut up. At least I don’t upload my songs to YouTube in the faint hope that my crush will like me back.”
Hours pass. Eventually Will is the only Apollo camper left in the infirmary; Argus is somewhere else for now. There are too many campers in here. Thankfully, all of them are sleeping by now, the moonlight shining through the window and illuminating their faces. None of them are calm.
Will decides to get up from the stool he’s been sitting on and take a walk around. Somehow, he ends up at Nico’s bed. Nico’s hands are flickering, but surprisingly, Will doesn’t feel anything. Maybe he was wrong.
Just then, Nico begins to toss and turn. Will doesn’t know what to do; he’s a medic, not a therapist. So for now, he walks away, instead checking on the other campers. Maybe Nico will have calmed down by the time he comes back.
Instead, however, Will walks back to see Nico sitting up, breathing heavily. “Hey,” Will starts.
Nico doesn’t respond. He keeps breathing faster and faster, shallow breaths puffing out of his mouth. Carefully, Will moves closer and sits on the bed, leaving a foot of space between them. He’s shaking.
“Breathe, Nico.” Will tries to make his voice as soft as possible. “Can you count to ten?”
Seconds pass. Then finally, a tight nod.
“One.” Will sees the flutter of Nico’s lashes as he looks up. “Two.” Nico takes a deep breath.
After a long pause, Will fills in. “Three.”
He seems to be irritated enough by Will doing anything, so with an angry flash of his eyes, Nico counts, “Four.” The motion of Nico’s shoulders is becoming steadier.
“Five. Six.”
Will shortens the gap between them. “I’m here for you, alright? This is going to be over soon.”
In lieu of a response, Nico says, “Seven.”
“Eight.” Nico’s voice is scratchy, but Will resists the urge to smile.
“Nine,” they say together. “Ten.”
The next few minutes pass by in silence. Until: “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Nico’s response is quick. In the light of the moon, Will can just barely make out the brown of his eyes.
“We all have nightmares, you know,” Will says, “I used to get them all the time. I’d wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, and I had to stifle my scream too, because I couldn’t let Austin or Kayla or anyone else hear. I’m a counselor, you know?” He offers Nico a wry smile. “I can try to understand.”
“You wouldn’t get it.” Lines form on Nico’s face. “Sure, you’ve been through battles. But you haven’t done what I have.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t have basic human empathy, though.”
There’s a light in Nico’s eyes. “Tartarus. That’s why I panicked.”
A weight presses itself on Will’s chest. “You went to Tartarus? Like, literal hell?”
“Yup.” Nico’s tone is sadistic. “And I was all alone. I met a ton of monsters. There’s millions down there, you know. And I met them all. Had to drink liquid fire to breathe. Had the Protogenoi of poison and misery tell me I couldn’t be more miserable than I am right now. Had to get kidnapped and shoved in a jar.” Will’s silent. “So yeah, you can’t understand. Nice try, though.”
Will opens his mouth, then closes it. “You shouldn’t have had to go through all that alone.” You don’t have to anymore.
“Well, I did.” It’s a blatant dismissal.
For the rest of the night, Will sits at his stool. He can’t stop staring at Nico di Angelo.
Faintly, he presses his fingers to his wrist and listens to his heart: bum bum, bum bum. Will thinks it might be in sync with Nico’s.
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