Work Text:
As Will sits in the doctors cabin, he thinks of the losses, the violence, the terror and death within the war, wallowing in self-pity is what it seems to outsiders.
"I should have done more, healed more people and protected them, not been so useless" he sobs out, seemingly talking to himself.
A buzz of wings is heard, and then a voice says "Will, you did the best you can and you are not useless, if you were I never would have picked you to host me" says the Hummingbird, flapping their wings.
"I should have done more-" Will cries out, but gets interrupted by "You couldn't do more, you did what others are scared, to do and you healed those who could be healed"
"Wait, there is a way I can do more!" Will says, with a hint of hysterics in his tone, he then grabs a blade, gifted by his father called Aftothysía, and uses it to cut his arms, and then moves to a bowl, old and decaying but still standing, with dried blood across the bottom.
"Will.." The hummingbird says in a disapproving tone, as the bowl glows and so does the hummingbird, with the bowl's decay lessening and the hummingbird being more lively.
"As long as I sacrifice to you, I can prevent people dying, like Michael, and Nico will be alright, that is what I want, please"