Chapter Text
“Nico.”
Will’s voice was soft as he sat down beside his boyfriend with a gentle hand on his lower back. The smaller boy flinched uncontrollably under the sudden touch. Nico’s feet were laced snuggly into his boots, wool socks peeking out even in early September.
“Darlin’, you need to eat something.” Will set a plate in front of him.
A plate with a simple egg on toast and a sliced apple. Nico felt bile rise in his throat.
“M’ not hungry.” Nico offered weakly, shoving the plate away.
With a sigh, Will plopped down onto the bench. He ran his hands through Nico’s curls, nails scratching comfortingly at his neck.
“I know you don’t have much of an appetite, but you need to get something down. You’re pale and your hands are shaking. I can get you something else if you want; some pasta, soup, or maybe a smoothie?”
Nico’s nose scrunched in disagreement.
“My hands aren’t shaking…” He muttered, pulling his legs up and maneuvering them into a criss-cross.
Will sternly took one of Nico’s hands and raised it by the wrist. Stubbornly, his fingers trembled. Nico snatched his hand back and stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket, the one he hardly took off lately. (Will had spent hours in thrift stores rummaging through old clothes that smelled like a nursing home while Nico thumbed the material of the jackets, searching for something that felt like his old one.)
“Listen Death Boy, “ Will smiled softly, letting Nico lean against his chest. “Mr. D is worried. Chiron is worried. Hazel is worried. I’m worried, baby. If you don’t start getting some food down you’re gonna end up with a feeding tube. ”
Teeth clenched, Nico snatched his weight back from Will and scooched towards the far end of the bench.
“No.”
“Neeks, trust me, I don’t want to. But you’re malnourished and you’re dehydrated. You’re at higher risk for illness and infection. We gotta keep you healthy.”
Will nudged the plate back under his boyfriend's nose.
“Just a few bites.”
With the death glare that nobody but Will seemed immune to, Nico reluctantly took a nibble of the toast before trading it for an apple slice. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breathe through his nose as Will tucked his water glass into his hand. The cold sent a shiver up his arm and through his body.
Another bite of apple down and Nico froze. His grip bore down on Will’s tee shirt as he retched helplessly into his own lap. Cursing under his breath, the medic lifted Nico under the armpits and guided him to the nearest garbage can. Nico pulled away and collapsed to his knees at a flower patch behind the nearest stone wall.
Will watched helpless as the younger gagged, arms hugging his own small frame. The single napkin he had clenched in his hand didn’t seem especially helpful as bile dripped down Nico’s chin and the front of his shirt. The elder kept his distance, standing a good five feet away as Nico cursed breathlessly in Italian. Will wasn’t willing to risk making anything worse with the panic of physical touch.
The grass around Nico had fully died by the time he called out miserably for Will. Tears streamed down his cheeks, leaving behind pathetic trails of salt and sadness.
“I’m here sweetheart.” Will assured. “I’m right here.”
“M’ sorry.” Nico scrubbed the back of his hand over his mouth, leaning forward with another sobbing heave.
“You did nothing wrong.” Will cooed as Nico leaned back off his knees at last and settled his weight into Will’s chest. “It’s okay.”
“I can’t even keep down a gods-damned apple.” Nico whimpered. “What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re sick honey; it’s okay.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Nico repeated weakly, sniffling as Will dragged a napkin over his lips. “M’ so dizzy.”
“Deep breathes.” Will encouraged. “Eating problems and nausea aren’t uncommon with PTSD. You’re just a little sick.”
Nico scrambled out of Will’s arms to spit up a bite of apple into the dirt.
“Okay, maybe a bit more than a little. You’ll get better; we’ll get you back on your feet. Are you an-”
The clearing of a throat from behind Will startled Nico out of his skin. As the smaller boy leapt to his feet, Will stood quickly to support him. Regardless, he swayed on his feet.
“It’s just Austin.” Will massaged the back of Nico’s hand, linking them tightly together. “It’s just Austin; everything’s alright.”
“Sorry, didn’t think that through very well.” Austin blushed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just wanted to see if you needed some help.”
“Sure, we are just gonna head to the infirmary.”
Nico didn’t complain and held back a flinch as Austin’s arm wrapped around his waist. At the younger’s silence, Will felt his stomach turn. Nico never agreed to go to the infirmary without a fight.
“Di Angelo” Austin started, pausing cautiously. “ You’re leaving a trail of dead plants behind us.”
Ignoring his brother, Will sighed and shifted Nico’s weight. He was pale and silent beside the sons of Apollo, jaw set.
“Will,” Nico started. “My arm hurts… like this.”
After a moment of confusion, it dawned on Will that the lifted position of Nico’s arms was inevitably stretching the shredded skin. Wounds still open, never fully healed even five years after their arrival. Slowing to a stop, Will stooped wordlessly to settle Nico on his back. Austin continued beside them, slowing his pace, and opened the door to the infirmary before leading the way to the second floor.
Will instinctively retreated to the corner room that he knew Nico preferred. There were a few of Nico’s sketches taped above the nightstand still, alongside a cheesy reminder to wash your hands.
The younger didn’t complain as Will settled him under the crisp sheets; turning him gently to lay on his side and nudging a trash can to the edge of the bed. Austin had disappeared, Nico noticed halfheartedly. He didn’t fight as Will maneuvered him out of his vomit stained shirt. After taking his jacket, and wiping it down, Will draped it across the smaller boy’s lap, a reminder that his comfort item was still in reach.
“Neeks,” Will sang gently, trying to capture his attention.
Nico hummed, lacing his fingers with Wills. His head spun with dizziness as he tried desperately to ground himself.
“I-I…” Nico stuttered desperately.
Will watched helplessly as Nico stared into the distance, trembling from head to toe. Flashbacks were frequent these days, Will just prayed to the gods that they were quick and ended in mere tears rather than a panic attack.
“You’re in the infirmary at Camp Half Blood. You’re alright. You’re with Austin and I. You’re not there anymore.”
Nico’s hands tangled in the sheet, nails drawing blood from the flesh of his palms. He sat up, head pressed between his knees. As he moaned helplessly, begging for help under his breath, Austin walked in with an armload of medical supplies.
Waving him away urgently, Will scooted closer to Nico on the thin infirmary mattress. He gently declawed Nico’s fingers from his own skin and intertwined their fingers together again. The younger panted desperately for oxygen as visions of Tarturus echoed through his mind. He could feel the hot air scorching his skin. The fire in his throat as he drank from Phlegethon, flesh bubbling with burns. The living body of a Titan beneath his feet as misery clung to Nico’s tired body.
“You’re not there anymore.” Will cooed. “You’re safe. You’re safe, Nico. You’re not alone. You’re with Will and you’re safe.”
Though the room still smelled of burnt flesh, and the echoes of screaming rang through his ears, Nico forced himself to focus on the denim of Will’s shorts.
“Sorry,” He panted shakily, cold sweat dripping down his neck. “M’ sorry.”
“It’s alright. You’re okay.”
Will noticed helplessly that the smaller boy couldn’t stop crying. Hitching sobs overtook his thin shoulders and the collar of his tee shirt was dark with tears. He reached out a tanned hand to wipe the tears from Nico’s nose.
“Let’s get you laying down for a bit sweetheart. You still dizzy?” Will asked sweetly, pulling the covers back from underneath Nico.
Nico hummed quietly in affirmation as he tucked his legs under the blankets. With a cautious touch, Will maneuvered him fully into the sheets and fluffed a pillow beneath Nico’s head.
“Any other symptoms? Lightheaded? Headache? Any pain?” The medic grabbed his clipboard from the table, flipping through Nico’s chart and settling on the rolling stool.
“Lightheaded and a bit of a headache.” Nico offered reluctantly, voice hoarse.
“Any pain?” Will tried again. “Are your arms acting up? Ribs? How’s your leg?”
“Left arm; nothing different than usual though. Ribs are fine. Bit of pain when I put weight on my leg but, again, nothing out of the ordinary.”
Will bit back a lash of anger. Not towards Nico, of course, but towards his own healing abilities. As the war had ended, and Nico returned with it, the healing talents of Apollo’s cabin had not been enough to fix years of damage Will had found. He had spent an unfortunate few weeks trying to salvage Nico’s werewolf demolished arms and the monster mangled leg with healing potions and spells. Eventually, they had given up and turned to mortal medicine when ambrosia and nectar proved worthless to the Tartarus poisoned boy.
“Want some Advil?” Will offered, moving to stand.
Nico paused before nodding meekly.
Will had feared that. After surgery, at the nearest mortal hospital, Nico denied additional pain medication. As Will tore out stitches from infected wounds, Nico denied a nerve block or numbing spell. When he passed out, body trembling with exhaustion from shadow travel, Nico refused a painkiller to ease the ache.
“You must be feeling pretty shitty if you want something for it, huh babe?”
“I guess.” Nico said flatly. “Just,”
He stopped.
“‘Just’ what, Neeks?” Will questioned, turning back with a pair of pills in his palm. The bottle of water he had grabbed was sweating against his palm.
“Nothin’. Just like you said, feeling shitty.”
“You wanna talk about anything?” Will asked quietly, sitting beside Nico and stroking the hair back from his forehead. He offered the Advil and supplied a glare as the younger dry swallowed it.
“I don’t know.” He whispered. “I keep hearing voices. And I can’t sleep. My arms won’t heal so I can’t even train hard. I’m so exhausted, all the time.”
Nico shrugged with a sniffle, turning his head into the pillow.
“It just sucks.”
“I’m sorry baby.” Will offered, thinking through their options. “Do you wanna consult that psychiatrist Chiron found? The one whose parents were demigods. Maybe that would be helpful. She might not understand what you’ve been through, but she won't think you’re crazy. Maybe a different medication would help.”
“We’ve tried a bunch though…” Nico whined. “ I just want to feel ok again.”
Will tried to ignore the way his voice cracked.
“I know.” He sighed. “ I know you do.”
“I’m cold.” Nico admitted shyly.
Will giggled to ease the tension hanging in the air.
“Either you’re always cold or you just like wearing my sweatshirts.” He teased, standing to go retrieve one of his own long sleeved items.
“Both.” Nico retorted. “Your stuff always smells like sunshine.”
“LIke sunshine, huh? I didn’t know sunshine had a smell.”
“Mhmm, it does. Smells like you… and warm.”
Will smiled, inching back towards Nico.
“I can go find a hoodie for you, or I can lay down with you for a bit. That might help you warm up.”
Nico felt blood rushing to his face as he reluctantly nodded. Instinctively, he swiveled his head to be certain the door to the room was closed and the curtains on the windows draw.
“No pressure.” Will added at the sight of his boyfriend's nervous expression. “ I just know that helps you calm down sometimes.”
“Wanna snuggle…” Nico grumbled. The words felt unfamiliar coming out of his mouth.
Will held back a laugh at the sight of his angst ridden, son-of-Hades boyfriend asking for a cuddle. He was a sweetheart; that much was evident to Will. It had taken years to pull down the walls Nico had built up high.
“Move over a little.”
As Will settled his arms around the smaller boy, he could sense the ache pulsing through Nico’s body. The shooting pain in his upper arm as he squirmed closer to the edge of the bed. The nausea swirling in Nico’s stomach. The exhaustion spreading through his bones.
“You’re okay.” Will whispered, toying with the piercing in Nico’s lobe. He tried to ignore the smell of bile that seemed inescapable, knowing that to Nico it still smelled of burnt flesh. “Everything’s alright. You’re safe.”
Nico bit back an “I’m sorry”, settling for an “I love you” instead.
“I love you too, Death Boy. Try and rest for a bit. We’ll give eating another go later.” Will kept the otherwise-we’ll-put-a-feeding-tube-in to himself.
With a hum of agreement Nico nuzzled into the blankets and shut his eyes. Gently, Will took the hair tie from Nico’s thin wrist and pulled the shaggy hair out of his face and into a messy ponytail. He ran the pads of his fingers over Nico’s dark SPQR tattoo, feeling the ridges of horizontal scars underneath it from a particularly dark period of his boyfriend’s life.
“Will,” Nico murmured sleepily, rolling over to face him in the tiny bed. “Is Hazel coming to visit soon?”
“Not sure darlin’. I bet if we called her and asked she’d come as soon as possible.”
Nico’s brow furrowed.
“C-can… can we call her later?”
Will’s nod was firm at the request.
“Try to sleep.” He urged, thumbing the circles under Nico’s dark eyes. “We can call her after you get some rest. She’ll be worried if you call like this.”
With Will’s arm draped over his waist, Nico nestled against his chest. Breathing in the scent of sunshine and fabric softener he forced his eyes to close and prayed for sleep to come.