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His heart was racing. Clinging on tight to the son of Poseidon’s waist, wind rippled through his golden blonde hair. He looked up at the back of the boy’s, worrier’s, head, his mind raced, the ravenette sitting in front of him had looked…terrifying.
When Percy and Annabeth had first arrived at the bridge the Titan's army was fast approaching, but the minute Percy joined the fight, things started to turn over. Bullets and swords clashed with his body, doing nothing but ripping holes in his already messed up Camp Half-Blood shirt. Eventually, the Titan Lord showed up and all hell broke loose.
Then Annabeth got hurt.
He screamed and shouted at the monsters–and campers–surrounding him, (‘Get Back! No One Touches Her!’) his harsh words still rang in Will’s ears. There was something dangerous in Percy’s usually bright, sea-green eyes that made Will avoid eye contact with him. They were almost glowing and if he looked over the ledge of the bridge and down into the river, he was certain that the waters and currents would be swirling and thrashing in anger.
Blackjack, Percy’s Peguses, was able to get Annabeth off the bridge and to the Plaza Hotel where the rest of the camp had holed up. Once she was out of harm's way, Percy held nothing back. In a matter of moments, where a bridge once stood there was now a gaping hole.
After the bridge had been destroyed, Will’s oldest brother, Michael Yew, was nowhere to be found. Percy started frantically searching for him but it was a fruitless pursuit. He almost looked, lost. He stumbled over to the ledge and fell to his knees. What must have been caused by anger and despair, Percy screamed at the top of his lungs. It was something sick and angry, it sounded inhumane, and it hurt Will's throat just hearing it. On the edge of the bridge where he sat more cracks in the ground started to spread, the epicentre being Percy. The concrete cracked and groaned, and the ground beneath him suddenly felt wobbly and unstable. For fear of meeting the same fate as his late brother, Will and several of his siblings who were standing too close, took a few fleeting steps away from him.
Earthshaker.
Will almost didn’t hear the phone ringing over the blood rushing past his ears. If he was honest it made him jump a little. Percy answered and put the phone up to his ear.
Will took a step forward.
He couldn’t hear much of the call, but he did pick up ‘Annabeth,’ and ‘Bring a healer,’ When Percy stood back up, there was that same dangerous look in his eyes. The disconsolate seemed to blind him from everything else around them.
“Perc-” Will took another step forward, he wanted to help, he wanted to make sure Percy was okay and that Percy knew that Michael’s death disappearance wasn’t his fault and none of his siblings, or at the very least Will, didn’t think so. Will wanted to do anything, he would do anything just to get rid of that look in his eyes. But before he could offer any sort of condolence, Percy was grabbing his wrist and barking out orders to the rest of his siblings to keep looking for Michael.
Now they were on their way to the Plaza Hotel to go help Annabeth.
Will had been on a motorcycle before, but never without a helmet and certainly never going this fast, plus he was fairly certain that Percy had never driven one before. But not wanting to upset Percy more, he kept his mouth shut and at every bump in the road or turn they took he squeezed a little titer onto Percy. At some point he started to grab onto the front of Percy’s shirt, another sharp turn and his nail dug into Percy’s skin, he relaxed his arm and apologized, but he was pretty sure that Percy did not even feel it.
After they arrived at the Plaza Hotel–and got pelted with fruit–they walked inside. Every camper and Hunter there looked alive and as well as they could be. Before they entered the main doors, Will could hear the soft murmur of kids talking to each other, checking in on each other, eating, drinking water, maybe even joking a little, y’know, normal kid things. But the moment Percy stormed in, a hush fell over the crowd.
A few campers tried to come up and talk to him and Percy–mostly Percy–but he just nodded or said something like ‘Not now.’ or ‘Maybe later.’ and it was probably meant to be a sign that he was in a hurry but the way in came off was a little more like, ‘If you don’t get out of my way right now, I will end you.’ which made most of them back off.
One camper, however, had tapped Will on the shoulder and asked him a question about how to stop an injury from getting infected, but before he could answer or even tell them that he was in the middle of something, Percy grabbed his shoulders and steered him the direction of the Penthouse, telling them to buzz off, Will apologized quietly and continued to follow Percy.
When they got to the terrace, Percy shoved through the crowd of Athena kids surrounding Annabeth. When he saw her, Will’s breath hitched. Her normally tan skin was pale and clammy, her hairline was lined with sweat and her face was screwed up in pain. He could not mess this up.
Will took a deep breath and got to work.
He took off her bandages, the deep gash had stopped bleeding but the skin around it was a nasty shade of green, he sighed, it looked a lot worse than it was. She would be just fine. He thought.
“Annabeth..” Percy choked out. Sparing a moment to glance back at Percy, who moments ago looked ready to kill everyone in the room, now looked scared and on the verge of tears.
“Poison on the dagger,” she mumbled back, “Pretty stupid of me, huh?” Percy looked a little angry again, but not at Annabeth–never at Annabeth–but angry at the thought that she would even suggest that she was stupid.
Will explained that she would be alright, and it looked as though the weight of the sky had been lifted off Percy’s shoulders. He asked for some nectar, Percy handed him a canteen, and he cleaned to wound out with it as Percy held the poor girl's hand. He kept working, applying a sliver paste to the wound to help with the infection. Then he placed his hands over the gash, careful not to put any pressure on it, he spoke a quick hymn to his father, a small golden glow initiated from his hands and in a few moments all that was left on her skin was a light pink scar.
He stood, exhaling shakily. He wobbled a bit when he stood to his full height. Percy, even though he was paying much more attention to Annabeth, grabbed Will at his elbow and lined their forearms up to better stabilise him. Percy raised his eyebrows, an ‘Are you okay?’, he took another breath and then gave a small nod. Will turned to face the crowd and started listing off supplies they’d need to take care of Annabeth and any other campers who came in with injuries that needed to be treated right away. He wrote it down and gave it to the Travis Stoll.
Will wandered out of the room with the other, glancing back at Percy and Annabeth. Percy had a look of valediction on his face, he looked nothing like the Percy who destroyed a bridge and took on a massive amount of monsters on his own, the one who stood protectively over Annabeth's fallen form from when she had been stabbed. There was still a glint of protectiveness in his eyes but it was drowned out by a look of overwhelming fear and guilt.
Will turned and headed out the door. He made it about three steps into the main room before he was bombarded with questions and people asking for help. He sighed, asked for some room and got started.
It was going to be a long night.
__________________
Will sat down in an armchair near the bar with a huff. His body ached and his head pounded. He’d been running around the Plaza Hotel helping campers, hunters and all the like. All with different levels and severity of injuries. Most of which were cuts and sprains, so he didn’t use his healing abilities all too much, the main battle with the Titan Lord himself will surely be nothing less than a bloodbath. Plus there were several groups of Demigods that had not come back yet, no call and no message of any kind.
He started to nod off, his head dropping, and then he’d snap awake just to do it again. His eyelids felt so heavy and this was the first time he had sat down all day. At some point, the wave of sleep took hold and he sat with his arms crossed, chin to chest, snorting softly.
“Hey Will,” a soft voice whispered, someone was shaking his shoulder gently. Will’s eyes fluttered open, he squinted and blinked as his eyes were assaulted by the harsh fluorescent lights. When his eyes finally adjusted, a boy with tan skin, jet-black hair and sea-green eyes stood in front of him.
“Hey, how you doing?” Percy prodded gently, handing him a water bottle. Will took the water gratefully and thanked Percy as he cracked it open. He chugged nearly the whole thing in one go, the cool water did wonders for his headache.
“Woah, slow down there man. Don’t want you choking, trust me you do not want me doing the Heimlich manoeuvre,” Percy joked, as realised that Will was gulping down water like a stray dog. Lowering the bottle from his lips, Will chuckled too.
“Seriously though, how are you doing?” Percy asked again. Will shrugged, he felt fine, and the water was helping with his headache. But his head was spinning with anxiety. It had been at least three hours and none of his siblings had gotten back from the bridge yet, they knew where the rest of Camp had set up base, and while Percy had told them to keep looking for Michael they surely wouldn't look for three straight hours. And what if the Titan army came back? (Sure, he had seen Annabeth’s shield that showed them retreating once dawn came, but he hadn’t looked at it in a while,) And even if it wasn’t the army, that didn’t exempt an attack from any other monster or Demigod that didn’t get the memo or chose to stick around, lurking somewhere in the looming parts of the city. But he wasn’t going to say that.
“I’m doing okay.” he answered instead, Percy grimaced his brow forming a knot as he leaned on the arm of the chair Will had taken refuge in, “Really, I’m doing alright, Percy.” it sounded like a lie even to him. Yikes. Percy sighed but nodded anyway, saving Will from the embarrassment. They fell into a moment of silence, which was odd. All night there had only been noise–screaming, yelling, fighting–but now it was quiet and the quiet felt deafening.
Percy, who could not handle the silence, started tapping his feet, he looked absent like he was living in an entirely different moment from Will. His eyes kept darting around, he was twitchy and unsettled. Whenever someone attempted to come up to Will, Percy would glower at them till they walked in a different direction, safe to say that Will wouldn’t have to deal with anyone, with the exception of Percy, for at least the next couple of minutes. Once everyone else got the idea that maybe Percy didn’t want any extra company for this conversation, he spoke up again.
“Have you eaten anything since you healed Annabeth?” Right back to the interrogation session.
“Yes-” Percy looked at him expectantly, shit, “Well…no. Not really.” Will sighed, eyes turned downwards. “Once I got down here people started harassing me and who am I to say no to someone who needs help!” he defended, (to someone who hadn’t accused him of anything yet), “I mean all the injuries that people had down here were nothing compared to what Annabeth is dealing with, but there were a couple broken bones and pretty deep gashes, also sorry about not checking in on her sooner, I just-” he took a breath, gosh he was rambling but the ball already started rolling, “This is the first time I have sat down, like, all day.”
He looked up at Percy, his face was unreadable, and it made Will nervous. Percy stood, Will looked up at him in confusion, he hoped that Percy wasn’t mad at him for not checking in on Annabeth yet. If he was mad, why wait for a monster or rouge camper to get him, Will might as well dig his grave now.
“Stay here,” Percy spoke lightly. He walked off, despite Will’s protests, so Will just blinked and settled back into the chair. That was not what he thought was going to happen. A few moments later Percy came back with an arm full of snacks. Will was even more confused.
“Here,” Percy dumped the pile of food on Will’s lap, “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a few of everything,” Percy spoke sheepishly. He sat on the coffee table in front of the chair.
Will blinked a few more times, then hesitantly picked up an off-brand Rice Crispy Treat. Percy nodded, so Will ate. It was a little awkward, having Percy just sit there and…watch. His green eyes bore holes in Will’s forehead. But Will hadn’t realised just how hungry he had been, maybe taking care of people took more out of him than he originally thought.
They continued like that for at least 30 minutes, Will eating most of the collection of snacks Percy had brought. Percy ate a few as well, but he did most of the talking. Updating Will on their positions and numbers, he apologised when he told him that they still hadn’t heard from his siblings and they were going to send a team out soon to look for them. Will nodded along, but fighting and logistics were never his thing, he could barely use a bow properly.
Out of his siblings, he was probably the most useless, he wasn't that great at singing and he was mediocre at playing the guitar, he couldn’t aim a bow and arrow to save his life, he wasn't any good at poetry or writing or art. It seemed that he hadn’t inherited any abilities from his father. It must suck for Percy to know that the only healer he has on hand right now is lacklustre at pretty much everything he’s supposed to be good at.
Will looked back up at Percy who was staring at him with concern. When did he stop talking? Did he ask a question? Or did something happen? Will’s head was spinning again, he wondered if Percy had developed the ability to read his mind as he could with horses.
“What?” Will asked as he glanced around to make sure that the building and surrounding people were all intact, had been so focused on his self-deprecation that he hadn’t been paying any attention to Percy or their surroundings. When he saw nothing out of the norm he turned back around to face Percy.
Now on his feet in front of Will, (When did he even stand up?) Percy reached down to grip his shoulder. He rested his hand there for a second, then squeezed slightly.
“Hey, we’ll find them,” Percy insisted, “They're gonna be alright. I promise.”
Will just looked at him solemnly and Percy just squeezed his shoulder again. He gave him a small smile. Distantly Will registered someone calling for Percy, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Percy squeezed his shoulder once more before excusing himself to go talk to someone else.
Will just kind of sat there for a minute. Stuck in lamentable solitude, grieving the loss of his brother, trying not to concentrate on his other siblings who were lost somewhere in the city, trying not to spiral into anguish, or cry. He felt like if one more thing went wrong he would snap in half. But he had to contain himself, right now, he was the only healer they had and they were going to need one.
With Percy gone it didn’t take long for someone to come up to him and ask for help. It was a younger camper, someone he didn’t recognize, maybe a child of Hermes or an unclaimed demigod. They started to ramble about a friend of theirs who got hurt on their way back from patrol. He followed them quietly as they continued to talk his ear off.
The next few hours were a haze. He was just going through the motions, he watched as campers and hunters switched patrol shifts, the ones coming in relieved but nearly collapsing as the tag in their counterpart. The ones leaving looked fearful of what was outside of their barely protected shelter, knowing full well that they might not come back.
Clean wound, disinfect, bandage, repeat. Clean wound, disinfect, bandage, repeat. Clean wound, disinfect, bandage, repeat. Clean wound, disinfect, bandage, repeat.
***
The thing that brought him out of his disconnected cycle happened 2 hours after his short-lived break with Percy, a camper that had been out on patrol stumbled into the lobby of the Plaza, there was a cut on his arm, what looked like bite marks littering his skin, and a nasty looking gash in his side, if he looked close enough he could see ribs. It looked bad. A girl caught him as he started to fall and she called for a medic. Will had been with a camper who had a small abrasion from a sword after a run-in with a Dracena. When Will heard the girl yell his head snapped up and his feet started moving, he didn’t think he could run that fast.
When he caught up to the girl, Will slung one of his arms under the boy's shoulder, cautious of the cut on his arm. They got him to one of the empty hotel rooms, at this point he had a few Hermes campers following him around, while they may not be healers their dad is still the god of medicine plus they are great retrievers.
“Get me a towel, nectar, and a first aid kit or a needle and thread. Whichever you find first,” he instructed one of his little shadows. He heard retreating footsteps, upon closer inspection, the poor kid was covered in at least second-degree burns as well, he’d need a lot more than a first aid kit to deal with those. Shaking his head he got back on track, Will put pressure on the wound, One problem at a time Will. Just focus on stemming the bleeding first, he thought to himself. When the Hermes camper came back with the items he requested he switched places with them, so he could organise what he had.
First, he took everything out of the first aid kit, laying the things he needed on the bedside table. Then he got the pair of scissors and cut the camper’s shirt off, not wanting to irritate the burns or the hole in his abdomen. He discarded the cut-up shirt to the side and placed the scissors back on the table, now he was taking the towel and dowsing it with nectar. He took the Hermes camper’s place and started to clean the wound with the godly liquid. The boy bleeding out on a hotel room bed started to hiss and cry out in pain, Will apologised as he continued to treat the wound.
He listened for the camper's shallow and ragged breaths the boy was taking in, he was wheezing, more than he probably should be. He pulled the towel away from the boy's clammy skin, whatever caused this—if he had to guess it had been a hellhound—went right through his lung. There was quite literally a hole in one of this kid's lungs, on top of the other vital organs that must have been damaged when he was attacked.
“Shit.”
Will placed his hands over the wound. He made a quick plea to his father, Lord Apollo, Father. Please, please…he begged to the Sun God. The golden glow emanated from his hands, he squeezed his eyes shut and focused with all his might. He directed all of his energy to the glow in his hands. The warm light sewed the skin and muscles back together. The boy squirmed under his hands, more noises of pain and his breath started to pick back up.
Then it just…stopped. All of it.
The warm glow stopped, leaving a strange coldness to his hand, the shallow breathing underneath his hands ceased. His eyes flew open. The boy's chest stopped rising, his eyes were glassy and soulless. The bleeding didn’t stop but it was now lazily dripping onto the bed. This didn’t feel real, Will had never lost someone before, he did everything right, how did this happen? What did he do wrong?
“Will…” The Hermes camper behind him mumbled, “Will, what happened!? What happened to him?!” they shrieked. They rushed forward and shook the body violently, shouting the boy's name, begging him to wake up. To add to the commotion, other campers rushed into the room, pushing past Will to get to the dead boy. Many of them warbling, it was a mass chaos of shouts and sobs. But Will couldn’t hear any of it over the ringing in his ears.
Will took three fleeting steps back, his hands reached up to cover his ears. It was all so incredibly loud and overwhelming and Will had never lost a patient before, How Did This Happen? What Was Wrong With Him? He wanted to cry, he wanted to throw up. His vision went hazy and it felt like someone was smothering him with pillows, filling his lungs with cotton. He tried to leave the room because it was all just too loud, not knowing how dizzy he was, when he turned the room went dark for a second. Now he was on the ground and the world was spinning and he couldn’t breathe and he just watched a kid die because he couldn’t save him and-
Someone was picking him up, sliding their arms under his arms, they got him on his feet, even though they were already holding most of his weight, they slid an arm around his waist and one under his shoulders. They were pulling him out of the loud, crowded room. He didn’t know what was happening but the world was still spinning and he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know who took him or where they went.
He didn’t know how long they walked for but they were in an entirely different space now, the other person gently lowered him to the ground. The tile he was sitting on was cold, a stark contrast to Will’s hot and trembling hands.
He felt bile rising in his throat, and the other person with him leaned him against the counter. His breath hitched, the small amount of food he’d eaten refusing to settle in his stomach. He felt the room’s other occupant’s eye on him, he tried to focus on the fancy bathroom ceiling but they kept unfocusing and everything looked fuzzy, it was a fruitless attempt to get the others' eyes off of him. He wanted the scrutiny, the pity to cease, the look in their eyes crawling all over his skin, making the room spin and his eyes unfocus. Another wave of nausea made him shrink in on himself.
He reached out and his hands fumbled around until he found something to throw up in. He could taste all of the different snacks he had a couple of hours ago in the back of his throat, which now tastes acidic.
When there was nothing left to vomit up he started dry heaving, tearing his vocal cords and making him gag and choke. It was gross, he felt gross, and at that moment all he wanted to do was lay down and die. A hand connected with his sweaty back, rubbing comforting circles, an attempt to soothe his panic-ridded mind. He heard a low voice–one he could recognise but couldn't place, one he related to cracked floors, storms and the clash of swords–talking to him, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.
He sat on what must have been a bathroom floor upchucking his guts into a toilet in a hotel that he could never afford to stay in. Out of all of his panic and confusion, he could understand two things very clearly.
One, a couple of rooms over there was a boy no older than eleven who was lying in a bed and he would never get up of his own accord ever again, and two, It was absolutely, undoubtedly, undeniably Will’s Fault.
***
__________________
When Percy left Will at the bar–to what he hoped was sleep–he checked on other campers, trying his best to pick up as much work as possible so that Will wouldn’t be as overwhelmed.
All Percy wanted to do was wrap the poor kid up and a blanket and tell everyone to fuck off. He wasn’t going to do that obviously, but come on. Will apologised…to Percy! Because he thought Percy was coming over to bombard him for not checking in on Annabeth? Percy was going to find whoever made him think like that and drown them.
Percy should, quite honestly, be apologizing to him! I mean, Percy is the reason that Micheal Yew was at the bottom of the East River and not here safely in the hotel with his little brother. And to make the situation worse, Percy–who knew full well that Micheal Yew was gone and if they found anything, it would be a body–told the rest of Will’s siblings to keep looking for him, as he whisked him off to heal Annabeth. Now, nobody has had contact with the rest of the Apollo cabin, and it's quite frankly, freaking Percy out. He told Will that they’d be fine and that someone would find them.
So, instead of starting a spiral that he won’t be able to escape, he busies himself with tasks. Check on Annabeth, talk to Jake Mason about strategies, make sure Will is okay, help other campers, etc. It was mindless, that was his intent, he didn’t want to think about the bead necklaces on the Minotaur’s club, or the bodies of those who didn’t survive the night lying all over the streets of Manhattan, or the campers that were still missing or Micheal Yew’s body at the bottom of the East River.
The last time he checked on Will was over 2 hours ago, which he felt awful for, he hadn’t intended to leave WIll alone for that long. It was disheartening to see Will get up and follow another camper only a few minutes after he walked away. He had been working since he got here to heal Annabeth, Will even admitted that the first time he sat down all day was the thirty minutes Percy was talking to him.
So, Percy was going to find Will and make him sit down. Percy spotted the blonde across the room and made a beeline for him.
Later, Percy would wonder what would’ve happened if he had been a little quicker if his feet moved to reach the son of Apollo faster, if he had cleared the few feet of distance between them that things would have gone down differently.
A girl by the entrance of the hotel screamed for a medic, in the blink of an eye Will was rushing to the side of the girl, slinging his arm under the shoulders of an injured camper. The boy was covered in cuts and bruises, but that wasn’t the alarming part, his skin was pale from blood loss and Percy was fairly sure he just saw a rib.
The Hermes campers who weren’t out with Travis Stoll 'borrowing’ from local drug stores, were all panicked and rushing to follow behind Will. Percy hadn’t gotten a good look at the boy's face, but he did know that whatever happened was not good. Percy followed close behind the panicked crowd and into a hallway. They all halted in the doorway of a room they’d managed to find the key for. Percy, being taller than most of the campers, stood in the doorway, peaked over and got a glance at the boy bleeding out on the bed of a hotel far too expensive for any of them.
He recognized the face of Issac Stutton. He was a new camper, only coming to camp this summer. He was claimed by his godly parent within his first week of being at camp, son of Hermes, Percy had worked with him one-on-one to try and prepare him for the violence that had been sure to come, but there was only so much Percy or anyone else for that matter who could do in such a liminal time frame.
Sadly, this had happened to a lot of the newer campers, even with the Hunters of Artemis, they were still outnumbered ten-to-one, and with monsters not staying in Tartarus like they were meant to, they were struggling to compete with the Titan army’s personnel. So to make up for their lack of soldiers, Chiron and Mr. D sent almost all the satyrs to look for Demigod children during the build-up to the oncoming war.
They gained nearly one hundred new campers this summer, but if he looked around the lobby, he saw none of them, most of the current survivors were those who had spent most of their lives at camp. It made him sad to think about it, but it's the truth. It was unlikely that any of the new or younger campers were going to survive this.
Issac included. Will had placed his hands over the hole in the boy’s abdomen, the same golden glow Percy recognized from when Will had healed Annabeth. It was there one moment, and it looked like it, I mean really looked like it was working and the kid might survive. His muscles and tendons sewed themselves back together under the warm light. The light from Will’s hands filled the room with light and warmth, and Percy thought he saw Will’s hair glow and whip around like there were storm winds in the room with them. Under different circumstances Percy would have stood there and watched it all day, it was amazing, it was beautiful, it was…gone.
Percy watched as Isacc's golden brown eyes glazed over and lost the remaining life they had behind them.
“Will…” he heard the Hermes girl behind Will murmur, “Will, what happened!? What happened to him?!” she shrieked.
Several of the campers who were standing in front of Percy ran into the room, several of them shouldering past Will to get to the dead boy, pushing him aside in their grief. A desperate attempt to wake the boy by shaking his body violently, shouting his name, and begging and pleading to their parents to let Issac wake up.
But he didn’t.
No miracle, no god showed up to try to save him, not even to console their children who lost a sibling right in front of their eyes, not to mourn the death of a child. Their child.
In this moment and this moment alone, Percy Jackson finally understood Luke Castellan. Thoughts of mortal parents receiving calls from Chiron or Mr. D, telling them that their child is dead, that the summer camp they were sent off to, that's whole purpose was to keep Demigods safe, died fighting for a premortal being that didn’t care enough to send a birthday card, or show their face at least once, or to even mourn.
For what seems like the umpteenth time this summer, Percy held a cold and acrimonious hatred anger for the gods. (He knew better, he knows he shouldn’t admit that he hates the gods, not even in his own head.) He wanted to storm up to Olympus and scream some very colourful words at all of them until they listened.
Caught up in his anger, Percy had barely noticed that when Will turned around, his knees gave out and he fell to the floor. His figures stained by blood–Percy was sure it was under his nails, and he wouldn’t be able to clean it out, Bianca’s was still under his, and now Beckendorph and Micheal–were tangled in his unkempt blonde hair that looked much dirtier than it had moments ago. His face was drained of colour and his eyes were filled with tears.
Immediately Percy ran to his side. He picked the smaller blonde up by his armpits and pulled Will into his chest. Once Will was on his feet, Percy held as much of his weight up as possible, slung one of Will’s arms over his shoulders and held onto him by his waist.
As they walked, Percy could hear Will hyperventilating, and he was praying to the gods that he didn’t pass out on him. He didn’t know where he was trying to go, but he decided it would be best to take shelter in one of the bathrooms attached to the hotel rooms. When he found an open room, he all but kicked the bathroom door down.
Then slowly sinking to the tile floor with Will, holding onto his head to make sure he didn’t hit it on anything. Will’s breath hitched as Percy tried his best to lean him against the counter. Will swallowed hard, blue eyes flicking up to stare at the ceiling as he held back tears. He made a choking sound and curled in on himself. Percy instinctively reached a hand out but stopped himself, he didn’t want to overwhelm him more, and he wasn’t really sure how okay Will was with being touched. Gods knew that Percy didn’t like it for his first few summers at camp.
Will’s hands flailed around until they found the toilet next to him. Will’s eyes widened as he gripped onto the sides of the toilet, his chest heaving. As if frozen in place, Percy watched as Will's body racked with sobs, the splatter of vomit in the porcelain bowl of the toilet.
Percy tried not to panic, to control his breathing. Percy was never good at the comfort thing, maybe that’s because he never received it or accepted it when someone offered it to him. At some point he stopped throwing up any of the food Percy convinced him to eat, now it was just stomach acid and spit. Percy cringed at the sound of Will’s dry heaving, the way he’s coughing it was destroying Will’s vocal cords.
And between it all, he heard a choked-out sob. Something in Percy’s heart broke.
In it, he heard himself. He remembered the times he’s spent crying on the bathroom floor cleaning a bloody nose and discard any evidence of the bloody tissues, he didn’t want smelly Gabe to hit him again when he finds the mess Percy made.
In an instant, he was sitting next to Will, rubbing his back, not caring about the sweat sticking to the palm of his hand. Whispering small comforts that he had only wished someone would have said to him when he was younger.
They sat there, Will choking up stomach acid and tears and Percy rubbing his back, for 10 minutes–Percy would have sat there and waited forever–until Will turned to look at him, whipping any residue from his chin with the back of his hand. His brilliant blue eyes looked more focused than they did before, bloodshot, tear-filled and puffy, but it seemed like he was looking at Percy and not just staring right through him.
He looked tired, the dark bags under his eyes much more prominent than they had been a couple of hours ago. His freckled cheeks still lacked their natural colour and his lips were tipped into a frown. More tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill.
Percy moved his hand to the back of Will’s neck and pulled him into a tight hug, Percy’s other hand finding its place in Will’s hair. He felt Will’s body shaking, Will’s arms wrapped around Percy’s back and gripped at his shirt. Another sob ripped itself from Will’s chest, more started bubbling past his lips. Will tucked his head into the nape of Percy’s neck, muffling his sobs and hiccups.
Percy held him closer. Pulling him in tighter, still whispering little things that Will probably couldn’t hear over his own sobbing. Percy rested his forehead on Will’s shoulder, Will clawed at Percy’s back trying to pull himself impossibly closer to the only form of comfort he has.
Somewhere in the city of Manhattan, there's a too-fancy hotel filled with child soldiers fighting a war they should have never had any part in.
Somewhere in a too-fancy hotel, a boy was lying in a bed and he would never wake up again.
Somewhere in a too-fancy hotel, there are two boys, both with blood stains on their hands that they will never clean off.
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After the initial panic about the situation wore off, Percy helped clean the dried blood out of Will’s hair and off of his hands–and when Will spent fifteen minutes scrubbing at his nails and palms even if it was all washed away down the drain, Percy didn’t judge–He got Will some water and tried to get him to eat at least something.
Percy got him to sit down for a few minutes before he could help anyone else. Silena Beauregard came to check on Will, she even used her charm-speak to make sure he stayed sitting for longer than five minutes.
Percy sat back and watched as Will’s eyes slipped shut, Percy hoped that his dreams weren’t vivid images of the events that he experienced over the last few hours, honestly Percy hoped he didn’t dream at all, Demigod's dreams were never good ones.
Percy sighed and stood up from the chair he had collapsed in when he and Will left the bathroom. He stretched his arms up above his head, his chest decompressing when he dropped them.
“Can you watch him?” Percy asked Silena, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of Will, head lulled into the side of the chair, her fingers fidgeting with a bracelet on her wrist. She looked down at it with regret in her eyes. She nodded with hesitance like she shouldn’t be the one trusted with watching over Will.
“He’s been through it, huh?” Her angelic voice spoke softly so as to not wake the blonde.
“We all have,” Percy stated simply, his eyes did a one-over of Will, from his dirty hair to the cuts and bruises littering his legs. His eyes trailed to the rest of the lobby, campers, hunters, nymphs, satyrs and all the like huddled into small groups across the big space, many of whom were sleeping with at least one person awake for every two that were resting. Everyone looked so beat up–well, that was a given, this was a war, people were going to get hurt, people were going to…–but at the same time, if he looked around, every face in here still had baby fat to their cheeks and a spark of wonder in their eyes, though many of them lost that spark to the fighting and bloodshed.
Percy walked over to a big window, he watched as the sun neared the horizon, internally he was counting the minutes until the Titan army would continue to storm into Manhattan with only one goal in mind, to seize Olympus.
Percy watches the setting sun, its fleeting light reminding him of a light that came from the hands of a blonde boy, who would have so much more blood on his hands when this all ends.