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— THE INFIRMARY.
Fingers gently carded through damp, tangly hair. The sensation stirred the sleeping boy from his dreamless slumber, nose scrunching up in annoyance at being pulled out of such a deep, much needed sleep. The fingers contracted, pulling away and leaving his scalp tingling.
For a moment, he laid there, unmoving. Wondering if maybe the contact was just a figment of his imagination, perhaps a dream after all. Nothing happened, no presence was made known, and although the boy could’ve easily found out what happened by simply opening his eyes, the fatigue and weariness still settled deep and heavy within his bones.
So he laid there, breathing in slow but steady breaths to mimic the appearance of sleep. Maybe he’d drift back into that peaceful slumber. Gods knew the boy needed it.
The semi-comfortable silence broke with a voice somewhere off to his right.
“I know you’re awake, di Angelo.” The tone carried a hint of humor behind it, as if him being stuck in this dreaded makeshift hospital bed for the past three days was the funniest thing in the world. News flash: it wasn’t.
A soft huff slipped past his lips, brows crinkling in a furrowed frown as the boy slowly opened one eye. While there weren't any bright fluorescent lights within the infirmary, the sunlight that filtered through the windows was enough to make him squint and shield his sensitive eyes with one hand.
A figure stood over the bed, half covered in shadows from the rays of sunlight coming from the windows behind them. He could just make out medical scrubs, hints of golden locks, and a bright smile. Once again, the fleeting thought of the god Apollo filtered through his foggy head while regaining full consciousness. Memories of a warm bus in the middle of winter resurfaced, and a small grimace replaced the confused expression he’d donned before.
But no, the figure wasn’t Apollo, and Nico di Angelo wasn’t ten years old again, riding the sun bus across the sky and crashing into the frozen lake of Camp Half-Blood.
No, the figure was just Will Solace.
Dark eyes rolled instinctively, knowing the head healer was only here to do another daily check up on the son of Hades. Day three of being stuck in this stupid bed, having to endure checkups and redressing of wounds. At least he would be leaving the infirmary at some point today or tomorrow.
Grogginess now gone, Nico took notice of other campers in beds much farther away from his own, either sleeping, nursing wounds, or tending to other ailments. While the entire room was rather quiet and even felt warm and homely, there was that underlying sense of loneliness harboring inside him. That idea of knowing that even in a room full of people, he’d still feel out of place. It showed in the way his cot stood farther away from everyone else.
Gaze flickering away from the dozing campers in recovery, he took the time instead to study the opposite wall from him. Pictures hung rather neatly across the wooden panel, of smiling faces and groups of people, bronze plaques under many of the crafted frames. He’d found out yesterday that they were portraits of the fallen, the ones who couldn’t be saved or gave their lives for these wars and quests. Littered in between these remembered heroes were also pictures of the god Apollo himself, always seemingly dressed differently in each picture. Nico vaguely wondered if the Apollo cabin kept them up as some weird tribute to their dad.
A warm hand pressed against his forehead, pushing the boy back against the pillows propping up his neck. The view of the pictures disappeared, replaced by a dull ceiling of high wooden beams, and a smiling face leaning over him. The sudden urge to snap at Will rose up into his throat but was snuffed immediately as the son of Apollo pulled away.
“Temperature's fine. How’re your wounds doing?” Two pairs of eyes trailed down to the expertly wrapped bandages on both of Nico’s biceps, one of the few reasons for his imprisonment within the infirmary in the first place. The gauze itself wasn’t bloody anymore, which was a good sign. The hastily stitched up wounds had served their purpose well, keeping Nico from bleeding out during his exhausting trip to Camp Half-Blood in the midst of a war with Gaea. But that hadn’t meant the wounds healed.
In fact, before Will forced him to spend three long days in the infirmary to recover and rest, the stitching popped in several places and he’d spent a good hour restitching to keep things from worsening. It definitely was not worth the lecture he received when Will found out. But it didn’t matter now, since the incisions were healing nicely. Once the scars appeared, it would be a reminder of what he went through to help bring peace to both the Greek and Roman camps. Add that to the multiple scars that already littered his thin body.
Nico sat silently as the healer unwrapped one of the bandages, inspecting the newly healed pink flesh underneath. He noted the careful way Will held his arm, fingers barely brushing over the sensitive skin and leaving behind a warm, tingly feeling that felt vaguely familiar.
Had Will been the one running a hand through the birdnest he called hair? The idea seemed almost hilarious, and he half expected someone to pop up and yell that it was all a joke. That it was a dare and the son of Apollo won some sort of bet for the strange gesture.
“Looks good.” Snapping out of his thoughts, the boy glanced up and gave the blond a tight, wary smile. If anything, it could have been more of a grimace than a smile.
“Great. Can I leave now?” Not waiting for a reply, he struggled to sit up and toss off the bed covers, only to be gently pushed back down by a laughing Will.
“Whoa, slow down. I suggest one more night of bed rest, at least , just so the additional swelling and color can go down.” Blue eyes sparkled with a hint of humor as they stared directly at Nico, somehow leaving him feeling exposed and wanting to shrink back into a corner. The gaze was steady, stern even, but still held a playful banter behind it. He despised it.
Scoffing quietly, the boy rolled his eyes and slumped back into the fluffed pillow behind him. He wanted to insist that he was fine, that leaving now would be beneficial for everyone. It’s not like the other campers were keen on being near him anyway. His mouth screwed downwards into a scowl, opening up just enough to begin his protests.
But Will reached out and placed his hand on top of Nico’s, warmth spreading like a wildfire through his body.
Everything halted for a split second, the bedridden boy stiffening at the sudden touch. He didn’t even ask, he noted almost bitterly. Didn’t the son of Apollo know that he wasn’t prone to touch? How he was afraid that it’d result in hurting someone, somehow? Then again, he never voiced these concerns to anyone.
“Hey. I know it sucks being in here, but it’s for your own good. You used a lot of your strength with all those Underworldly stuff you do.” Nico opened his mouth again, trying to get another word out, but Will beat him to the punch. “I wouldn’t be forcing you to sit here and do nothing all day if I didn’t care. If everyone didn’t care. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Something fluttered inside of the son of Hades’ stomach at the other’s surprisingly kind words. Out of instinct, he snatched his hand away, cradling it against his chest as he stared at Will, eyes narrowing.
People cared for him. This wasn’t news, but it still somehow rubbed him the wrong way, knowing that people actually cared for his well-being. It was a strange feeling that he might never get used to.
“Fine.” He found himself saying after a moment’s pause, shoulders sagging in compliance. “I suppose… One more night won’t hurt.”
Will’s smile was so brilliantly bright that Nico actually had to close his eyes for a split second because of how unnatural it seemed. Gods, didn’t it hurt to smile that widely?
“Well, it is doctor’s orders after all.” The head healer remarked, smirking in amusement. The itchy feeling of regret bubbled deep within Nico’s chest, only to be squashed by yet another gentle gesture from the blond. A warm hand had returned to his own cold one, giving it a reassuring squeeze before pulling away. And those stupid skeletal butterflies erupted once more to bug him. At this rate, the thought of stabbing his own stomach to stop this weird sensation from ever happening again seemed like a semi-good idea.
“Get some rest. I’ll check back with you later.” He promised, and Nico watched as he went on to the next camper, checking in and easily starting up a conversation.
Sniffing in disdain, the dark-haired boy settled back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling once more. His hand still felt warm, and that uneasy sensation hovered over him like a heavy cloud.
Just one more night. It couldn’t be that bad. Not when other people were here, and when one certain person actually put in the effort to talk with him.
Yeah. It wouldn’t be that bad.
. . .
— THE QUEST.
The horrific, slick sound of metal piercing a body caught his attention. Something inhuman screeched in pain before a burst of dust filtered through the hazy air, leaving behind the smell of rotting eggs, of sulfur.
Wrinkling his nose in disgust, the boy glanced to his left, watching as the other demigod ducked away as another pit scorpion tried to attack. The stinger gleamed in the golden light of the setting sun, poison dripping off the end and sizzling as it hit the earth.
It was just their luck, running into a small nest of pit scorpions while trying to complete an assignment Chiron sent them on. Somehow, they managed to dust at least three of the creatures, but four remained and definitely wanted blood for the death of their brethren.
Nico swung his sword, raising it to take a menacing slice at the scorpion in front of him. The ghastly thing attempted to lunge forward, snapping at the space he’d stood at mere seconds ago. Retreating just a bit, he stole another glance to see how Will was faring. The boy brandished a bow, the quiver on his back nearly empty save for three arrows and the one already notched against the bowstring. Two of the scorpions advanced on the healer, another slowly crawling towards him, and a fleeting moment of fear passed through the son of Hades.
“I got this,” Will called, as if reading his mind, before promptly turning on his heels and sprinting through the sparse grove of trees off towards their right.
Pinchers clicked together, as if the giant creatures hadn’t anticipated a fall back so early in the game. But it was short-lived, as they scuttled after the boy, the last one abandoning its previous attack on Nico to follow after the retreating figure.
Much too late, he realized what the son of Apollo was doing.
“Solace!” The protest was lost to the wind, and a sinking feeling of dread caused the boy to freeze.
No. Don’t freeze. Move. Move or he’ll end up dead.
Boots kicked up dirt behind him as Nico surged after the idiot. As he ran, he tried to wrack his brain for more information about pit scorpions, calling upon Annabeth’s many monster lectures for the knowledge.
‘Pit scorpions can jump fifteen feet in the air. They have deadly venom and you can die if it’s not treated right away.’ Wonderful. All the more reason to yell at Will later for creating a stupid diversion.
A parking lot appeared (they had been attacked behind a Walmart, of all places), the trees giving way to the scene of Will notching an arrow and carefully aiming it at the closest scorpion. Somewhere along the way, he must’ve hit his head against something, blood drizzling down the side of his temple.
A flash of rage passed through Nico. It left him shaking, and he used that sudden fury to his advantage.
Without another thought, he thrust his hand out, brandishing the tightly gripped sword towards the pit scorpions. The wind whistled, the roar of his own pounding blood surging through his ears as the boy summoned the dark, dormant power inside himself.
A crack split across the earth, zig-zagging this way and that. Concentrating, concrete crackled and groaned as the ground pulled apart, revealing a large chasm that headed straight for the creatures surrounding Will. It widened in size, swallowed the poisonous animals whole, and slammed shut with a satisfying crunch.
Out of breath, the son of Hades let his arm drop, the tip of the Stygian iron sword smacking against the concrete and creating a revibrating sound, like a dull gong. Sweat had tufts of hair clinging to his forehead, the whole ordeal leaving the boy more winded than he wanted to admit. Gods, after all this time, he still couldn’t do much without growing tired. He never truly recovered from the toll of the war.
“What have I told you about using that Underworld magic.” Head snapped towards the other boy, surprise flickering across suddenly fatigued facial features. He scoffed incredulously, unable to believe what he was hearing. That ‘ Underworld magic’ just saved Will’s sorry ass, and he didn’t even have the audacity to say thank you?
“Oh sure, next time I’ll just let you get run over by scorpions.” He huffed, crossing the unleveled parking lot to meet the other halfway. Frustrated with this sudden turn of events, Nico forcefully shoved his sword through the chain he used as a makeshift sheath, the hilt catching securely on a link. Hopefully, there would not be a need for it anymore.
“You could have died. Or turned into a puddle of shadows.”
“But I didn’t.”
“But you could have. You need to be more careful.” Nico’s expression pinched in something between rage and shock. Hands balled into tight fists, nails digging into calloused palms to keep him from lashing out.
“Careful? I need to be more careful? What about you, you were the one who decided that being bait was a fantastic idea. If I hadn’t stepped in and taken care of those things myself, you’d be dead and I’d be going home with bad news.”
“Nico.”
“No, listen here. I’m not about to—” He wagged a finger in Will’s general direction, beginning to pace as the English language failed him for once in his life. Almost instantly, his native tongue took over, a slew of rapid Italian and English bubbling out and over into the one-sided conversation.
“Nico.”
“ What? ” Any other words he might’ve uttered died instantly as Will stepped forward, gently cupping his hand under Nico’s jaw and pulling him closer, the son of Hades stumbling in order to regain some sort of balance.
Something was said, but it drowned in the sudden rapid pounding of a heartbeat against eardrums. Time seemed to slow down and somehow pick up speed in the same instance.
What is he doing. The panicked thought filtered through the sudden murky waters of his own mind, only rising in alarm as the hand under his jaw traveled up to cradle one side of his face, joined by the other hand not even a moment later.
What was he doing. A weird humming sound slipped out, an attempt to voice the pressing question but it was lost in translation as Will stared at him, blue eyes sparkling with something warm and unexplainable.
Dark eyes flickered from the intense gaze to other features of the boy’s face. Freckles. Nose. Eyebrows knitted in concern. Tanned, smooth skin. Soft smile. The gash along the left side of Will’s head didn’t look too bad from this angle, the thin stream of blood rolling down the side of his face ceasing it’s previously heavy flow.
Taking advantage of the moment of silence, Nico finally found his voice as his hands found a home wrapped around tan wrists, squeezing slightly as if it’d pull them both out of whatever sliver of bliss they entered.
“What are you doing—” The son of Apollo cut the confused boy off, leaning down to meet him, their mouths barely brushing together. Another sharp intake of breath and the distance closed altogether.
His grip tightened immensely around the other boy’s wrists, now the only source of support that kept him standing on suddenly weakened legs. Strong hands firmly cradled his face, long fingers digging into his overgrown hair.
Breathing seemed like a second thought, a sudden rush of stupid giddiness cascading over his body in a strange sense of euphoria. Those skeletal butterflies vibrated in his gut, even swooping higher up and into his chest, leaving a feeling of elation behind in their wake.
Somewhere along the way, his feet pushed off the ground to meet the height of the other and maintain some sort of balance. On tiptoes, gripping Will’s wrists like his life depended on it, the dark-haired boy tried not to short-circuit as the blond’s lips moved cautiously against his own.
It was soft, he noted hazily, eyes falling shut at some point during this new position of vulnerability. Later on, he would vaguely remember those lips tasting faintly of cherry, like the lollipops from the infirmary. He wouldn’t quite understand how or why, since they’d been nowhere near the infirmary or the sweet candy.
Now, Nico didn’t have the slightest first clue about kissing, since being on the run and fighting in two wars preoccupied his non-existent love life. Like he even had the time to think about domestic actions such as this, anyway. But boy, was he thinking now.
And just like that, the gentle kiss broke, and the son of Hades inhaled so quickly that he nearly choked on his own spit. Everything seemed far away, as if reality hadn’t quite caught up with the pair yet. An out of time feeling surrounded them, leaving him in a daze.
Reeling from what just happened, the dark-haired boy opened and closed his mouth several times, trying in vain to speak. To say something, anything. To not look like a complete idiot in front of the other boy.
But he could only think about one thing.
Nico di Angelo just had his first kiss. And it was with Will Solace, of all people.
Patches of skin across his cheeks flared up a bright red, sweeping up to his ears and down his neck, matching in the fiery color. A sound, something like a wounded animal, ripped from his vocal cords and the urge to melt into the shadows never felt so strong than in that moment.
“Thanks,” Will whispered finally, a soft smile creeping up the corners of his mouth. “For, y’know, saving me.”
The two boys stared at each other, both equal shades of crimson.
Nico nodded curtly, still reeling and trying to find an anchor of stability. Cold hands fell to his sides, assuming this was the part where they pulled away and perhaps never talked about it again. He’d understand if this somehow ruined their friendship, and the son of Apollo didn’t want to associate with him anymore.
At least he got to experience a really nice moment.
But Will didn’t pull away. Instead, he blinked a couple of times before breaking into a wide grin, hands slipping to press against Nico’s back and pull the shorter boy into a tight hug. The warmth from the blond spread like a wildfire and the dark-haired boy tensed at the additional physical contact. Instincts screamed to pull away, but for once he ignored it, relaxing into the embrace instead.
“When we get home, we’ve got some things to talk about.” Nico barely registered the other’s voice, but he nodded once more in agreement, still as mute as ever.
They did have a lot to talk about. Maybe they could resolve some of it here, while they finished the mission. The idea of talking about this left a fluttering feeling deep within his being, and he panicked, suddenly scared of a bunch of possibilities and what-ifs.
But… He’d been through much worse in the past.
Deep down, he knew this wouldn’t be so bad.
. . .
— THE CAMPFIRE.
Chattering demigods sat around the campfire, enjoying each others’ company on the humid summer night. The atmosphere was warm in the sense of communion, of friendship and enjoyment. People were laughing, the smell of sweet marshmallows roasting hung in the air, and the gentle melody of a couple Apollo kids strumming lazily on guitars and other acoustic instruments flowed in the breeze.
Holding a couple of skinny bones serving as spokes for marshmallows, a lone figure stood by the hearth, preparing extra s’mores kits for the campers. Every-so-often, someone would come up beside him and take one of the kits, voicing a quiet thanks as they retreated. He’d provide a small nod in return, and a gentle smile on certain occasions.
Once fifty or so s’mores kits were set aside, he retreated from the warm hearth, wiping away beads of sweat from his hairline. Even without his usual jacket to act as a sort of security blanket, the summer heat in addition to the fire hadn’t been kind to him.
He welcomed the breeze blowing through the camp, no matter how warm it may be. It felt refreshing, and he stopped walking for a moment to just close his eyes and inhale deeply.
This was peace.
Nico never would’ve thought he’d experience this sensation on his own, let alone among others that he greatly cared about. Disgustingly, it made him all mushy and warm on the inside.
Someone nudged his shoulder, stirring the kid out of his quiet thoughts. Dark eyes opening, he glanced to the left and met the smiling face of Will. The son of Apollo had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he studied the other boy.
“You okay?” The question prompted him to nod, returning that million-dollar smile with a gentle one of his own.
“Peachy.” The response earned a soft laugh from his boyfriend, and it warmed Nico to his very core. Though he’d never say it out loud, the boy wholeheartedly believed that Will’s laughter was far better than any music that anyone could ever play.
“Hey, so, they were requesting a little bit of a light show.” The pair started walking towards the familiar crowd of demigods they considered friends, taking their time to carry the conversation that Will obviously planned out. “And I was thinking. What if you helped me?”
Their shoulders brushed together as Nico walked beside him. The son of Hades noted that he might’ve been too close, but also didn’t quite care either. This was a comfortable position for them, familiar even.
He took this time to ponder what the healer was asking of him. Light shows were becoming a popular request after Will demonstrated his ability to bend light at his own will. It was always such a beautiful sight, watching the way sunlight would pour from his fingertips and create gentle shapes and figures to entertain the campers. Some might’ve called it a delicate art form.
But what did this have to do with him?
The boy asked as much, and Will actually stopped walking to face Nico, brows furrowing together in an expression of surprise.
“Well, because of… You know… The thing.” Hands waved in vague illustration, as if he could easily pick up on the charade. When the boy gave him a blank stare, the son of Apollo sighed and grabbed his cold hands, lifting them up to eye level. “Shadows.” He said simply, squeezing warmth through Nico’s cold fingers with just a simple gesture like hand-holding.
It clicked then. Will wanted both of them to entertain the campers. With light and darkness. Sunlight and shadows.
Uncertainty settled in, and it must’ve shown on his face because Will’s smile faltered. Hands pulled away, replaced with a firm grip on the raven-haired boy’s shoulder, blue eyes holding a steady gaze with dark ones.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought it’d be a nice little change, y’know.” He knew the blond was just trying to be nice about it, but nevertheless, he caught a tiny bit of disappointment in the other’s tone.
“It’s just. I’ve never shown anyone other than you.” He supplied, the excuse sounding so lame and stupid as soon as it was out in the open. Trying not to wince at his own foolish words, Nico looked away to study campers enjoying the summer night. Worry swelled in his chest, suddenly scared of how everyone would react. What if they scorned him for it? What if he scared them? The possibilities of how this could go wrong were endless.
“Nico.” This time, he didn’t meet the other’s gaze. He hummed in response, shoulders sagging a bit out of instinct. “I think they’d love it.” A snort of a laugh filtered out, as if he didn’t quite believe that. But Will squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. Somehow, he always had the right thing to say at just the right time.
“Fine. If they run off screaming, I’m blaming you.” A breathy chuckle was all the response he received before the son of Apollo took his hand and pulled him along to the area where their friends sat. Everyone greeted them enthusiastically as they took a seat, Nico smiling faintly in greeting.
Dark eyes studied the circle of people he’d come to care about as Will started speaking, announcing that the light show was about to begin. More campers started to gather, taking seats and scooting closer to view the theatrics about to take place.
Will started it off, palms up and eyes closed as he concentrated. All too soon, sunlight flickered off his hands, floating up into the air and swooping throughout the campers, causing elated giggles and applause. It went on for a bit, the luminance morphing into different shapes to please the crowd. Then Will nodded, a common signal to indicate that it was time.
Dread entered the picture, and Nico froze for a second. What if he couldn’t do it with all of these people watching? What if he messed up?
But the encouraging look Will gave him was enough to shoulder those worries aside and go through with this silly plan.
Exhaling rather shakily, the boy copied Will’s previous movements. Palms up. Eyes closed. Concentrate.
A ripple went through his body, an involuntary shiver going up against his spine as he reached out to the shadows that always tried to cling to him. Now was the time to use them for something other than traveling. Inwardly, he urged the shadows to come closer, to rest on his hands and to turn into wispy strands of darkness. He opened his eyes to look down, the coolness of the shadows a welcoming sensation as he started to shape the darkness into something else.
Moments later, shadowy butterflies flittered up from his palms, flying high and meeting the wavy strands of sunlight Will continued to circle through the air.
Gasps went through the crowd, and Nico stole a glance to see their reactions. Many campers were wide-eyed, entranced by the new addition to the show, the contrast of shadows and lights that danced and soared right above them.
A genuine smile split across the child of Hades’ facial features, returning his attention to the gentle task at hand. The pair spent the next five minutes bouncing off of each other’s shapes and figures, creating elaborate little stories with just the light and darkness. Soon, they were nearing the end of the show, on the end tails of their energy from the exertion of power. But Nico didn’t want to finish just yet.
So he pushed himself to make one last creation.
The shadowy figure of a young girl formed and danced across the pure sunlight, holding a floppy hat in hand as she spun and spun, before it morphed into a bow with a quiver of arrows. She shone brightly against Will’s light, and Nico smiled almost mournfully as she dissipated into a gentle wisp of smoke.
Palms fell down to his lap, some energy spent and a fuzzy, tight feeling in his chest, something between joy and tears. People were clapping, whistling, exclaiming how great the show was. But he wasn’t really paying attention. His thoughts lingered on the shadowy figure, a nostalgic look slipping into his suddenly glossy eyes.
Warm fingers laced with his, Nico turning his attention away from bittersweet thoughts to stare up into blue eyes crinkling in a smile. A shy grin spread across his own features, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance before giving Will’s hand a quick squeeze.
And then someone was laughing about the newest tale of the Stolls, their escapades never a boring topic of discussion. Soon enough, people were holding their sides, trying to recover from the enjoyable story.
Nico couldn’t help but grin. The muscles of his face felt taunt from doing such a thing, but he didn’t mind that much. Not tonight. Dark eyes surveyed the laughing campers, almost sparkling with warmth at the unity within the group and the grounding presence of Will beside him.
Yeah. Things weren’t so bad after all.