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Everything hurt. Tired. Sitting up, Will squinted his eyes in the darkness. In front of his bunk was the arrow his dad gifted them after his time being mortal. Next to it on the wall hung beads. Lee’s beads. Some he knew. Some were so old, most campers didn’t even know what the design represented that year. (The ones who would’ve are dead)
He fingered the beads on his necklace subconsciously, rolling them around his fingers. He had 7, from when he was 10 to now. Lee would’ve had…
His body went rigid. Why can’t he remember?He should remember. How old? He was… Why can’t he remember? Please, please, please, tell me, pleas-
Gods, Lee would’ve remembered. Lee could do so…much. He healed, he led the campfire almost every night, and he was amazing at archery.
(Another reason, huh? Another reason you can’t live up to him.)
And Lee always prided him on his healing. If he really was a miracle worker- why couldn’t he save Lee? His eyes stung.
In fact, was there even one thing that was special about himself? Original, even? His healing was the only thing that set him apart from other demigods, and even then, his healing wasn’t that special.
Hades, everyone he knew was better than him. Nico, his boyfriend, helped in both prophecies- not to mention he was a Big Three child. Kayla was the perfect mix of blunt and caring, she had healing and dangerous precision in archery. Austin had an amazing singing voice. His sax playing was beautiful too.
He didn’t even know why Nico liked him enough to date.
Mouth dry, he threaded his hands through his curls. Staring at the blanket beneath him, his eyes pricked and his vision blurred.
Lee or Micheal wouldn’t have broken down in their own cabin. They were stronger than that. Fuck, Lee and Micheal should’ve survived, instead of little him. They would’ve been more valuable, instead of falling apart when nobody sees, instead of crying in the storage closet, they’d be helping others.
He couldn’t even do his one job correctly. Healing was so… exhausting. It shouldn’t be.
He needed to be stronger. (How do you become stronger, when you feel like you’re falling apart even as you try?) All those smiles. All those nights. All those tears for something that was his duty.
Putting one hand on his stomach, the other on his mouth, sobs finally came. Gasping for air under his hand, he tried to keep quiet. Shaking, he pinched his arms.
Get a hold of yourself, Solace.
And nobody was there to hold him. He was a cabin leader, not that 10 year old boy anymore.
He couldn’t feel anything. It ached. Maybe it was his heart, sending vibrations through his body, as it sped up through his tears.
He needed to be Will Solace. Who was even was Will Solace? Will Solace was stable. Will was friendly. Will was strong. Where was Will?
Crying reduced to small, light, breaths, he untangled himself and quietly walked toward the bathroom. Lights blaring into his otherwise sensitive eyes, he stepped up to the mirror.
Cold water ran as he splashed some on his face. Breathing in and out, Will pinched his cheeks to get the same color back.
”Will..?” A voice startled him. Standing behind him in the doorway with her arms crossed, Kayla yawned. “What are you doing… at 2AM?”
Smiling lazily, Will squinted his eyes ever so slightly, then he turned. “Couldn’t sleep. Decided to try and touch up my hair again.”
At that, Kayla snorted and muttered something that sounded like, ‘Stupid’ , then walked back to her bed. He silently thanked all the gods he could think of for dismissing Kayla so easily.
Will sighed. Dropping his smile, he looked back in the mirror. His eyes had a small droop, thank the gods for his genetics, he’d be busted for crying if he didn’t have them, with a small black smudges on the corners of his eyes. His hair was twisted slightly.
It reminded him about Tartarus. Every time Nico brushed his hair, Will couldn’t help but think about Tartarus again. Gods, his mind almost shattered in there. His hair felt like a constant reminder.
Breakdowns got worse because of that, too. He pulled his hair when he spaced out. He did that in Tartarus, too.
Hands tight, Will tried to breathe again. Tartarus…wasn’t fun. He didn’t want to tell anyone- ever, really- on how much it affected him. (He did want to tell someone. He just didn’t know how’d they see him as reliable ever again, though.)
His chest was tight. He needed air. Fresh air. Sneakers on, (Converse, Nico gifted him), he walked outside.
Harpies didn’t attack him anymore- not after how many times he walked out the infirmary late at night and fought them off- so he walked slowly to the pier. The path was almost memorized.
If you asked him later, he wouldn’t know how long he sat there for.
Numbly sitting down, he rested his chin on his knees. He hated this. He hated feeling so weak. He hated that nights like these occurred often.
Sometimes, he wonders if falling off the pier could help. It would be a more merciful death than the deaths of his siblings, anyway.
He knows thoughts like these aren’t good. He knows he should talk to people about this. The issue is, who?
He hasn’t opened up, not ever since Lee’s death.
It’s so pathetic. Isn’t it? Being the head healer, a combat medic, and a cabin leader, yet he can’t even take care of himself.
He didn’t try to eat as much as he could. He didn’t try to take breaks.
He doesn’t deserve it.
Does he deserve life?
Threading his hands into blonde curls, with another small breath, blinking back the tears rapidly. Gasping for air, his fingernails dug into his hair.
Quiet sobs racked his body, each breath labored, each shake carrying tears. Moving his hands from his hair, fuck, he needed to stop doing that, he pushed on his eyes.
Please, please stop crying. It’s stupid.
Spots danced in his vision, chest tight. He needed more air. Air. Please, give me some air. Drawing more shaky, raspy, breaths out of his lungs, he counted in his head.
He wished his watch was on. The one he used to set timers for breakdowns like this, the one he used all the time, the one Beckendorf made.
Sniffling, Will stood up. Blinking his eyes one more time rapidly, he wiped his face quickly with his hands.
Walking back to his cabin, Will plastered another smile on, for the sake of Kayla.
He swung open the door.