Work Text:
The woods were quiet, the usual rustling of leaves now replaced by an eerie stillness. Will walked steadily through the trees, his hands lightly brushing the foliage as he collected herbs for the infirmary.
It was a simple task, a familiar one. The life of a healer was never truly easy, but at least it was routine. A way to keep busy, to feel useful. And in moments like these, where the camp depended on him, Will took pride in his ability to heal. It was his duty—the only thing he had ever truly known.
Will paused for a moment, glancing at his satchel filled with gathered supplies. The soft crunch of footsteps behind him drew his attention, and he turned to see Nico, his dark eyes piercing through the shadows like always. There was an edge of weariness in Nico’s expression, but his presence—stoic and steady—always brought a sense of calm to Will’s restless mind.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” Nico said softly, his voice cutting through the silence.
“I’m fine, Nico,” Will replied. “Just grabbing some herbs for the infirmary. It’s nothing.”
Suddenly, the quiet shattered. A deafening roar echoed through the trees.
Will froze.
Before he could react, the ground beneath them trembled, and a monster emerged from the shadows—creatures twisted and malformed, their eyes gleaming with malevolent hunger.
“Will!” Nico shouted, already drawing his sword.
Instinct took over. Will reached for his dagger, but before he could defend himself, the monster lunged toward him. A sharp, guttural cry pierced the air as Nico stepped in front of Will, raising his blade to deflect the attack.
Nico moved too late.
The monster’s claws slashed across Nico’s side, tearing through his dark clothing. He stumbled back, blood pouring from the wound, his face contorted in pain. He quickly sliced his sword through the monster, leaving behind dust as it vanished.
“Nico!” Will cried, rushing to his side.
Blood pooled beneath Nico, dark and vivid, staining the earth as he struggled to catch his breath. His black eyes met Will’s, wide with fear and confusion.
“N-no, no…” Will’s voice broke as he cradled Nico’s trembling form.
“Will… I—” Nico tried to speak, but his voice faltered.
Tears streamed down Will’s face as he gripped Nico tighter. His vision blurred, but he could never look away from Nico’s pain-stricken face.
“I—I’m here. I’ve got you, just hold on,” Will whispered, though his voice wavered with the weight of despair.
His hands trembled, pressing against Nico’s wound, but it was no use. No amount of pressure could stop the bleeding, no healing power surged from his fingertips. His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried everything, every spell, every method he had ever known, but the magic refused to respond.
He reached into his pouch, frantically searching for anything that could help. Herbs, relics—anything. But even the ancient magic he had called upon countless times refused him now.
“Nico… please…” Will whispered, his voice breaking. His once-steady hands fumbled with the golden light that should have been second nature. But it was like his powers had abandoned him.
Nico’s gaze drifted, his breath fading into silence. Will held him close, the warmth of Nico’s body slipping away, leaving only cold and emptiness in its place.
Will didn’t know how long he knelt there, the world crashing down around him. His hands were coated in blood, but he didn’t care. All he felt was the weight of his failure—failure as a healer, as a boyfriend.
The shadows stretched around him as if they, too, mourned the loss of their prince. The healer stared at the dark expanse before him, his fingers shaking, unable to grasp the weight of what had happened.
How many times had he stood powerless, unable to save those he loved? His brothers—Lee and Michael—had died before. And now, Nico.
He let out a broken sob. His voice cracked as he cried into the night, his body wracked with grief.
He had always believed in his power as a healer. It was his purpose, his gift. But when it mattered most, when it counted beyond all else—he had failed. The sun could heal anything, everything. Or so he had thought.
But it hadn’t healed Nico. It hadn’t brought him back from the abyss.
“I'm sorry… I couldn’t save you,” he whispered, over and over. “I’m so sorry I failed you.”
The sun had long since set, and the darkness consumed everything—his hope, his light, and his reason to keep going.