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The day after Michael Yew’s funeral and Will was made head counselor. It didn’t hit right away.
Will later could’ve said he was still in denial. He didn’t see himself as much of a leader, so this had to be some joke right?
Michael or Lee would come back, they’d take over and run things like they always did.
After the funeral, the rest of the night went by in a blur. Faces of his siblings turning to each other for any sort of comfort. Trying to find relief in who was left.
There were 12 Apollo campers before.
5 were still alive now.
It hit him that night when he had entered the cabin, seeing Michael’s bunk, stripped of his sheets. All of the personality gone from that one area of the room.
That’s when the realization hit.
Michael wasn’t coming back.
No one went after him when he turned on his heel and bolted out of the cabin. No one batted an eye at the scrawny 13 year old kid running through camp. Curfew was soon.
Why would he care?
He’d let the harpies tear him to shreds. He didn’t care.
Stumbling and coughing, tears running down his face and soaking into the collar of his shirt. Will found himself at the beach in the far corner where the woods connected.
The dark expanse of trees had always frightened him, as did the water. He was scared of a lot of things.
His feet sunk into the wet sand as he waded through the water, cold seeping into his bones. No one would see him from where he was standing, not unless you were at just the perfect spot.
Will waded until the water lapped up to his waist, the current causing him to sway. He was shaking and trembling with cold and sobs that he tried to suppress.
He was head counselor now. Head of the infirmary.
He was thirteen.
What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to lead?
Will didn’t know how to be responsible. How to stay strong for others.
He was the oldest now. What if another war came? What would happen then?
The moon reflected onto the surface of the lake, he stared up at the sky with his chest heaving, his clothes sticking to his skin.
“Why?” He whispered, not caring if anyone heard, or if anyone was even listening. His voice sounded so small, the only thing he could hear was the melodic sound of waves crashing against the rocks, and the sound of his own heartbeat.
His feet were sinking into the sand and something touched his leg, he was too tired to care, too numb to his surroundings.
The water was murky and too stirred up to see the bottom. What normally would’ve made his anxiety spike, didn’t.
His siblings would be waiting for him… he had to be responsible, he had to be there for them. That’s what Michael and Lee did for everyone else. That’s what he had to do as the new head counselor.
Will sucked in a shaky breath, trying to slow his heart rate down, to stop his tears that were mixing with the lake water.
If any of the gods were looking at him right now, he hoped they would go screw themselves. This was their war. Will and his siblings and everyone else at camp shouldn’t have had to fight in it.
Without bothering to try and wipe his tears, Will forced himself to move. His shoes made a disgusting sucking sound as the sand clung to them.
He was dripping and completely soaked, he couldn’t go back to his cabin like that.
So, soggy, sad and tiredly, Will wandered to the infirmary, leaving tracks of water and sand on the tile floor. He’d clean it later.
He wrapped himself in a towel, trying to wring out his clothes at least somewhat so he wasn’t dripping.
It was a slow process, his fingers were numb and his chest constricted painfully. He wanted some dry clothes, and his bed.
His knees shook when he tried to walk and pure exhaustion weighed down his bones. Will found a pair of shorts that might’ve been Kayla’s in the back office closet and didn’t even bother with a shirt.
He collapsed on one of the infirmary cots and passed out.