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Will barely looked up from the half-stitched wound in front of him as the door to the infirmary swung open. It was late afternoon—golden light spilled in from the windows, stretching long across the floor. The Apollo cabin smelled like antiseptic, fresh gauze, and the last traces of burnt ambrosia.
Will was exhausted. Not the bad kind of exhausted—just the usual kind that came with a long shift of treating scrapes, sprains, and the occasional nasty sword gash. He rolled his stiff shoulders and exhaled slowly, refocusing on the camper sitting in front of him.
“Try not to move,” he muttered as he threaded his needle through another layer of skin.
The girl—one of the Hermes kids—huffed. “Kind of hard when you’re stabbing me.”
Will arched an eyebrow. “I’m literally fixing the hole you put in your own leg.”
“That boar came out of nowhere.”
Will just shook his head and tied off the stitch. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse. No sparring until this heals.”
“Sure, doc,” she said, hopping off the cot with a grin.
Will rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He turned away, already moving to clean up, but hesitated when the door opened again.
Hazel stepped inside, her gold eyes scanning the room like she was looking for someone.
Will didn’t think much of it at first. Hazel was in the infirmary all the time—sometimes to check on injured campers, sometimes to keep him company while Nico was busy elsewhere. But when her gaze landed on him, her brows furrowed, and she made a beeline in his direction.
“Have you seen Nico?”
Will blinked. “Not since this morning.”
Something in Hazel’s face twitched.
Will straightened.
The air in the room shifted.
“Why?” His voice was steady, but his fingers twitched at his sides.
Hazel folded her arms, glancing toward the door. “I was supposed to meet him before lunch. He never showed.”
A pit opened in Will’s stomach.
He swallowed hard, shaking off the sudden, ridiculous weight pressing down on his ribs. “He’s probably just off brooding somewhere. You know how he is.”
Hazel’s expression didn’t change.
Will told himself he wasn’t worried. That Nico was fine. But he was already reaching for his supplies, tucking things away with mechanical precision.
Hazel watched him carefully.
“I asked around,” she said slowly. “No one’s seen him since breakfast.”
The pressure in Will’s chest tightened.
He forced a laugh. “That doesn’t mean anything. He’s probably in the woods, avoiding people. Or maybe—”
He stopped.
He didn’t have an answer.
Nico had been doing good lately. He didn’t disappear like he used to. He told Will when he needed space. He always came back in time for dinner.
Will exhaled sharply and turned away, running a hand down his face. His fingers came away clammy.
He wasn’t worried.
Except, he was.
Something cold and awful curled in his stomach, making him dizzy. His pulse was too loud in his ears, his breath too shallow.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Hazel murmured, but even she didn’t sound convinced.
Will forced himself to nod.
But his hands were already shaking.
—
Will tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted as he left the infirmary.
He told himself he wasn’t panicking. That would be stupid. Nico had disappeared before—intentionally. He needed space sometimes. He took off on walks. He didn’t always check in.
But something felt… off.
Will wasn’t sure when the tightness in his chest had started, but it hadn’t gone away. If anything, it got worse with every step.
The first thing he did was head straight to Nico’s cabin.
The Hades cabin was cold, the shadows stretched long against the walls. Will knocked once, twice—then pushed the door open when there was no answer.
“Nico?” His voice felt too loud in the stillness.
The room was empty. The bed was messy from where they had slept the night before, but untouched otherwise. He took a slow breath, heart stuttering against his ribs.
He backed out and shut the door behind him.
Next, he checked all of Nico’s usual haunts. The lake. The training fields. The stables, even though Will knew Nico barely tolerated the pegasi.
Nothing.
Will rubbed at his chest, trying to ease the growing ache there. It was fine. It had to be fine. Maybe Nico was in the woods, sitting in a tree like a feral cat, avoiding people. Will wasn’t going to embarrass himself by making this a big deal.
So why was his pulse racing?
He felt sick.
It was only when he was halfway across camp that it hit him—hard, all at once.
Something is wrong.
It wasn’t just anxiety. It wasn’t just him being paranoid. He knew.
He stopped in his tracks, breath catching. The nausea that had been curling in his stomach all day surged violently, forcing him to brace a hand against the nearest tree.
His fingers pressed against the rough bark, grounding himself. His vision blurred.
Nico was gone.
Not avoiding people. Not just off somewhere being dramatic. He wasn’t here.
Will squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling sharply. He forced the air into his lungs, held it, let it out slowly. He couldn’t afford to spiral—not now. Not yet.
With a shaking hand, he fished his camp necklace out from under his shirt and clenched it tightly between his fingers.
Then, he ran.
---
He didn’t know how long it took him to reach Chiron.
Minutes? Hours? It all blurred together.
He practically skidded to a stop outside the Big House, breath ragged. His stomach hurt—not in a physical way, but in a deep, awful way that told him he was about to hear something he really didn’t want to.
Chiron looked up from where he was speaking with Jason. “Will? What’s—”
“Nico’s missing.”
The words left his mouth before he could second-guess them.
Chiron and Jason exchanged glances. Jason frowned. “Are you sure?”
Will snapped. “Of course I’m sure! He’s gone—no one’s seen him since this morning! He didn’t show up for lunch or dinner, he’s not in his cabin, he’s not—”
His throat closed up. His nails bit into his palms.
Jason was already moving. “I’ll get the others.”
Chiron’s expression darkened. “We’ll find him.”
Will wanted to believe that.
But his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
—
The campfire crackled somewhere in the distance, casting a dim glow over the cabins. The usual nighttime hum of camp—laughter, footsteps, the distant ring of metal from late-night sparring—felt wrong. Muted. Out of place.
Will sat on the front steps of the Apollo cabin, fingers curled tight around his knees. His knuckles were white. He couldn’t remember the last time he blinked.
He should’ve been with the search teams. He should’ve gone into the woods himself, ripped apart every tree until he found something. But he hadn’t.
Because Chiron had made him stay behind.
“I need you here,” Chiron had said, his voice even. “In case he comes back.”
Will hadn’t had the energy to fight him on it. He was too exhausted. But exhausted wasn’t the same as tired.
His whole body felt disconnected, like he wasn’t fully in himself. He dug his fingers into his knees and exhaled shakily, staring at the ground.
He couldn’t do anything. He hated that he couldn’t do anything.
The night stretched long and empty around him.
He didn’t know how much time had passed before the first search party returned.
Will’s head snapped up so fast it made him dizzy. He surged to his feet, heart hammering.
He met Jason’s gaze first. Then Hazel’s.
His stomach dropped.
They looked grim.
Will didn’t realize he was shaking until Jason put a steadying hand on his shoulder.
Nothing.
They’d found nothing.
No footprints. No disturbances in the forest. No signs of Nico at all.
The words hit Will like a physical blow. His vision blurred.
Hazel was saying something, but he couldn’t hear her.
The world tilted. His breath hitched, shallow and sharp, too fast—too fast—
Will turned away abruptly, shoving out of Jason’s grip. He barely made it three steps before his knees buckled.
His hands caught on the wooden railing of the cabin, fingers curling tight around the edge. He squeezed his eyes shut. His chest hurt. His lungs weren’t working right.
He was panicking.
He knew that.
He knew the signs—too much air, too little air, trembling limbs, dizziness—he’d seen it in patients, had treated it, talked people through it—
But he couldn’t talk himself through it.
A hand brushed his back.
“Will.”
It was Hazel.
Will squeezed his eyes tighter.
“Breathe with me,” she said gently.
His fingers dug into the railing.
“Nico’s missing,” he rasped.
Hazel’s breath hitched.
“I know,” she whispered.
Will cracked.
His shoulders shook, silent at first, then wracking. Hazel moved closer, one hand rubbing slow, firm circles between his shoulders. He clung to the railing, gasping like he’d just been dragged out of deep water.
He didn’t know how long they stayed like that.
But when his breathing finally slowed, the weight in his chest didn’t ease.
Nico was still gone.
And Will had never felt more helpless in his life.
—
Will’s body hurt.
He didn’t even know how it hurt—he hadn’t really been paying attention. He didn’t have the energy for it.
The night had bled into morning, and Will had gotten no sleep. He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. That he’d just power through the day. He’d sleep later. He’d focus.
But his muscles were stiff, his eyelids heavy. The dark circles under his eyes weren’t from lack of sleep anymore—they were from the weight of everything else.
Nico.
Everywhere he looked, everywhere he went, the only thing he noticed was Nico's absence. How he wasn’t there, head in his lap or against his shoulder, complaining about the newest campers, or the new way Percy was bothering him that day.
Hazel tried to get him to sit down and eat breakfast, but Will had no appetite. He’d barely touched the protein bar she handed him. His hands were too shaky to hold it properly.
“Will…” Her voice was soft, but firm. “You need to eat. You need to—”
“I’m fine,” he cut her off, too quickly, his voice sharper than he intended.
Her frown deepened. “You’re not fine. Everyone’s worried about you.”
That wasn’t what Will wanted to hear.
“I’m not the one missing.” His words were cold, biting.
Hazel flinched. She opened her mouth to say something, but Will turned away, his eyes scanning the camp, his gaze darting everywhere and nowhere all at once.
He had to keep moving. He had to keep searching.
But as he walked, his exhaustion became more apparent. His legs felt like lead. His body trembled, as though it were on the edge of some precipice. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pushing.
Every step felt like an effort. Every breath, a struggle.
And then, around noon, when the sunlight was beginning to cast long shadows over the camp, Will’s body betrayed him.
He was standing near the training fields, watching the scattered campers go about their usual business, when his vision started to blur. His knees buckled, and before he even realized what was happening, he collapsed forward, landing hard on the ground.
The impact knocked the air out of his lungs.
He gasped for breath, disoriented, trying to focus on something -anything- but his mind was to hazy. His chest hurt, and he couldn’t breathe properly. His whole body felt weak.
“Will?”
A voice—Kayla, Will realized through the fog. She was kneeling beside him, her hand on his arm.
He blinked up at her, feeling detached from the world around him.
“I’m fine,” he mumbled, but his voice was so weak that he didn’t even believe himself.
Kayla’s eyes softened with concern, but she didn’t argue. “You don’t look fine.”
“I’m fine,” Will repeated, his voice hoarse, his gaze darting around to avoid meeting her eyes. He couldn’t look at her. Not now. Not when he was so broken.
“You’re not fine, Will,” she said quietly. “You haven’t been fine for days.”
Will swallowed hard, trying to push himself up. His body didn’t respond. He felt like he was made of lead, too heavy to move. His head swam with dizziness.
Kayla pressed her hand to his shoulder, forcing him back down. “Stay still. Let me help.”
But Will didn’t want help. He didn’t want to feel like this. He wanted Nico. He wanted to wake up, to find that none of this had happened.
Instead, the dark thoughts swirled—What if it’s my fault? What if I could’ve done something different?
His breath caught in his throat.
He wanted to scream, but the sound caught in his chest, suffocating him.
Kayla’s hand on his arm tightened, pulling him out of the spiral for a moment. “We’ll find him, Will. Just breathe. Please.”
But Will could barely hear her. His vision was fading again, the edges of his world blurring like he was drowning in it.
---
Later that night, Will dragged himself back to the Hades cabin, moving on pure instinct now. His body felt like it was shutting down, but he didn’t care. It was all he could do to collapse on the bed.
His thoughts were too loud, too relentless. He couldn’t focus on anything except the ache in his chest and the gnawing terror in his gut.
He tried to sit up in bed, but the effort felt like climbing a mountain. The exhaustion weighed him down, and the cold, hard emptiness of the room made his heart ache even more.
Where was Nico?
He fell back into the pillows, hands clutching at the sheets as if they could hold him together.
Sleep came quickly, but not peacefully.
---
He was back by the lake.
The night sky was filled with stars, and the moonlight bathed the water in a soft, silvery glow. The air was cool, but not cold—just enough to make him shiver slightly. Nico stood in front of him, his dark eyes shining with something soft, something warm.
“I don’t know if I can say it again,” Will whispered, his voice almost lost in the night.
Nico’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile, stepping closer. “Say what?”
Will swallowed, taking a shaky breath. He reached for Nico, his hands trembling slightly. “I love you.”
The words felt like a confession, like a promise. And when Nico’s hand closed around his, pulling him into a gentle kiss, the world felt right.
“I love you too, Will,” Nico murmured. “Always.”
Will’s chest swelled with warmth. He wrapped his arms around Nico, burying his face in the side of Nico's neck while Nico's arms encircled Will. Here he felt safe. Here he felt loved. He never wanted to leave Nico's arms.
—
Will woke with a start.
The Hades cabin was dark, and for a moment, everything was still.
He reached out instinctively, as if to pull Nico closer, but his hand met nothing.
The bed was cold.
Empty.
His breath caught in his throat, and for a long moment, he just lay there, staring at the empty space next to him. The warmth of the dream was already fading, replaced by the sharp, aching emptiness that came with the truth.
Nico was still missing.
And Will had no idea where he was—or how to bring him home.
—
Will wasn’t sure how he was still standing.
The exhaustion had settled into his bones, his muscles weak from days of neglect. His head ached constantly. His body protested every movement. His hands trembled when he tried to do the simplest tasks.
He hadn’t eaten more than a few bites in days. Hadn’t slept for more than a few minutes at a time.
But none of it mattered.
All that mattered was Nico.
The morning passed in a blur. Will didn’t remember how he got from the Hades cabin to the infirmary, but suddenly he was there, forcing himself through the motions of work. He couldn’t afford to stop. If he stopped, the weight of it all would crush him.
His coworkers whispered about him when they thought he wasn’t listening. He knew they were worried.
He looked awful. He felt worse.
At one point, Kayla cornered him in the supply room. “Will, you need to take a break.”
Will barely looked up. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” she argued. “You’re running yourself into the ground.”
Will took a deep breathe, trying to still his shaking hands. “Just leave it alone, Kayla.”
“Will, you need to take care of yourself! You obviously haven't slept or eaten in days, and your barely standin-”
His patience snapped.
“I don’t have time to worry about myself right now!” His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “Why are you all so focused on me when Nico is missing?”
Kayla’s mouth pressed into a thin line.
“We are worried about Nico,” she said, softer this time. “But we’re worried about you too. You’re falling apart, Will.”
Will clenched his fists.
Of course they were worried. Of course they saw how wrecked he was. He wasn’t hiding it well. He couldn’t hide it well.
But every second they spent fussing over him was a second they weren’t searching for Nico.
He shook his head, swallowing back the tightness in his throat. “I don’t care how I look. I don’t care how I feel. I just—” His voice broke. “I just need him back.”
Kayla exhaled slowly. “Will, you—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he cut her off, his voice shaking. “I just—I can’t.”
Kayla hesitated. Then, without warning, she stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.
Will stiffened.
And then—
Then he broke.
His breath shuddered out of him, and before he knew it, he was clutching Kayla’s shirt, sobbing big, heart wrenching sobs into her neck.
“I don’t know where he is,” he choked out. “I don’t know if he’s okay.”
Kayla just held him tighter. “I know.”
“I can’t lose him,” Will murmured. “I can’t.”
Kayla didn’t say anything. She just let him hold on, let him break for a moment.
It was the first time in days that Will allowed himself to feel anything other than frantic, all-consuming panic.
But the moment didn’t last.
Because barely an hour later—
Someone screamed.
—
At first, Will didn’t process it.
His mind was still sluggish, weighed down by exhaustion and grief. But then—
The scream came again.
And something in Will’s chest snapped into focus.
He was moving before he even realized it, shoving through the crowd of campers gathering near the border of camp. His heart pounded against his ribs. His breath was shallow, sharp.
He didn’t know what he expected.
But then—
Then he saw him.
Nico was standing at the edge of camp, his body swaying, his clothes torn and dirtied. He looked exhausted, his face pale and gaunt. His dark eyes were unfocused, his stance unsteady.
Will’s breath left him in a rush.
He didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate.
He ran.
He shoved past campers, ignoring their murmurs, ignoring the way the world blurred around him.
And then—he was there.
He barely caught Nico as he stumbled forward, his body going limp against Will’s chest.
Will trembled as he crushed Nico to his body.
“Nico,” he breathed, “Oh, gods—Nico—”
Nico made a noise—something weak, something pained. His fingers curled against Will’s shirt.
Will was crying, but it didn't matter because Nico was safe.
“I—” his voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “I tried—”
“Shh,” Will cut him off, his throat tight with emotion. He was real. He was here.
Will pressed his forehead against Nico’s, his hands cradling his face like he was afraid he’d disappear.
“You’re okay,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”
Nico let out a weak laugh—something close to a sob.
“I missed you,” he muttered.
Will let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, pressing a desperate, lingering kiss to Nico’s forehead.
“I hate you,” Will whispered, his voice shaking.
Nico hummed. “No, you don’t.”
Will let out another shaky breath, holding Nico tighter, vowing to never let him go again.
Nico was home.
And for the first time in days—
Will could breathe.
—
Will didn’t let go of Nico the entire way to the infirmary.
His hands never left Nico’s arms, gripping tightly like if he let go, Nico would vanish into the shadows again. Nico had barely managed to stay upright, his exhaustion evident in the way he leaned into Will, barely conscious.
Will didn’t care that people were staring. He didn’t care about the whispers of relief and shock rippling through camp. He didn’t care about anything except the fact that Nico was alive and here.
When they reached the infirmary, Will refused to let anyone else touch him.
“I’ve got him,” Will snapped when someone tried to take Nico from him. His voice was sharp, almost feral. “Just—don’t.”
No one argued.
Will sat Nico down on the cot and immediately went into full medic mode, his hands shaking as he inspected him.
Scratches. Bruises. A nasty gash along his side, but nothing fatal.
Will’s hands trembled as he reached for supplies. He was moving fast, too fast, his breath shallow as he cleaned wounds and wrapped bandages. He muttered under his breath the entire time, half-scolding, half-pleading.
“You’re so stupid. You’re so—gods, Nico, do you have any idea—” His voice cracked, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. “Do you even think before you disappear like that? Do you know what you put me through? Do you know how—gods, I—”
His hands stilled.
Nico was staring at him, quiet and exhausted, but his eyes were soft.
And that was what did it.
The adrenaline that had kept Will upright, kept him moving for the past three days, suddenly drained out of him all at once. His hands dropped to his lap. His breath hitched.
Nico was safe.
And Will—Will broke.
His body shook. A sob tore from his throat, sudden and raw. His hands clenched into fists as his entire body curled in on itself.
He barely registered movement before Nico was pulling him close.
Will collapsed into him, clutching at his shirt like a lifeline, his entire body wracked with violent, shuddering sobs.
“I—gods, Nico—I thought—I thought I lost you,” Will choked out. His fingers curled tighter. “I thought—I thought you were dead—I couldn’t—”
Nico’s arms tightened around him.
“I’m here,” Nico murmured, voice hoarse but steady. “I’m here, Will. I’m not going anywhere.”
Will just shook, his sobs broken and unsteady.
For three days, he had carried the weight of his fear, his grief, his guilt. For three days, he had held himself together by sheer force of will.
But now, in Nico’s arms—
He let it all go.
He sobbed until his body ached, until his breath came in ragged gasps.
Nico pressed his forehead against Will’s. “I’m ok Will,” he whispered.
Will shuddered.
He knew that. But gods, he still felt like if he let go, Nico would disappear.
“I’ve got you,” Nico murmured, his fingers tangling in Will’s hair. “I promise.”
Will squeezed his eyes shut.
He wanted to believe that.
But after three days of hell—three days of spiraling, of panic, of desperation—he wasn’t sure how to let go of the fear.
So for now—
He just held on.
And Nico held him right back.
—
Will didn’t sleep that night.
Or rather, he couldn’t.
He stayed curled against Nico, his arms locked around him, his fingers curled so tightly into Nico’s shirt that they ached. Every time his body started to relax, every time his breathing evened out—he’d jolt awake, heart pounding, terrified that he’d wake up and Nico would be gone again.
He knew it was irrational. Nico was right there. He could hear him breathing, could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his skin. But his brain wouldn’t accept.
Because if Will closed his eyes—he saw three days of hell.
The sleepless nights. The nausea. The shaking hands. The dread that curled like poison in his gut. The helplessness. The guilt.
And now?
His head throbbed. His stomach churned. His body ached from exhaustion, from the sheer weight of holding himself together for three straight days.
And yet—he still could not let go of Nico.
He wasn’t sure how long they lay there. At some point, he felt fingers threading through his hair, a soft, slow motion that sent a shudder through his body.
“You’re still awake.”
Nico’s voice was low, rough with exhaustion.
Will squeezed his eyes shut.
“Yeah.”
A pause. Then—
“You need to sleep.”
Will let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Not happening.”
“Will.”
“No.” His voice came out harsher than he intended. “I can’t.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then—Nico shifted.
Will panicked.
His entire body went rigid, his arms tightening around Nico as if sheer force could keep him in place.
“Where are you going?” His voice cracked.
Nico stilled. Then, slowly, carefully, he pressed a hand to Will’s back.
“I wasn’t going anywhere,” he murmured. “I was just getting more comfortable.”
Will let out a shaky breath.
Gods.
He was losing it.
“Okay,” he mumbled.
Nico hesitated. Then—he tilted Will’s chin up, forcing their eyes to meet.
“I’m not leaving,” he said, quiet but firm. “I swear, Will. I’m right here.”
Will believed him. He did.
But his body still refused to let go.
So instead, he just buried his face in Nico’s chest and held on.
For now—Nico let him.
—
Morning came too fast.
Will barely noticed.
At some point, he must have dozed off because when he opened his eyes, golden light streamed through the cracks in the cabin walls. For a moment, he just lay there, wrapped around Nico, warm and safe.
Then—Nico moved.
It wasn’t much. Just a shift in position, a stretch of sore muscles. But Will panicked.
His grip tightened instantly, arms locking around Nico’s waist.
“Where are you going?” he repeated, his voice was hoarse, edged with something frantic.
Nico stilled. He turned his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “I was just stretching.”
Will didn’t relax. His heart was still racing, his pulse pounding in his ears.
“…Don’t.”
Nico’s expression softened.
“Will.”
“I mean it.” He hated the way his voice cracked. “Just—don’t move.”
Nico was quiet for a moment.
Then, carefully, he shifted back into Will’s arms, pressing himself closer.
Will exhaled. He hadn’t realized how tense he was until that moment.
“Okay,” Nico murmured. “I won’t move.”
Will shut his eyes.
Tried to breathe.
Tried to believe that Nico was safe.
But the image of three days of not knowing was burned into his skull.
He must have gone quiet for too long because, eventually, Nico sighed.
“You’re being ridiculous,” he muttered.
Will let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Yeah?” His fingers curled into the fabric of Nico’s shirt. “Sorry if losing my mind for three days straight kind of messed me up.”
Nico flinched.
Will felt it.
Immediately, guilt coiled in his stomach.
“Nico—”
“I’m sorry.” The words were so quiet, Will barely heard them.
His breath caught.
“No.” His grip tightened. “Don’t do that. Don’t apologize.”
Nico shook his head. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I don’t care.”
Will could feel his throat tightening, could feel the weight of everything pressing down on him all over again.
Gods.
He was going to break down.
“I just—I can’t—” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I thought I lost you.”
Nico’s breath hitched.
Then—he turned in Will’s arms.
And Will was crumbling.
He barely registered the way Nico pulled him in, the way his arms wrapped around him, his fingers running through his hair.
—
Eventually, Will’s body gave up before his mind did.
He fought it. Gods, he fought it. Every time his eyes slipped shut, he forced them open again. Every time his muscles slackened, he jolted himself awake.
Nico let it happen for a while.
But Will wasn’t subtle.
His body swayed where he sat, his head drooped against Nico’s shoulder. His fingers clutched at Nico’s shirt like a lifeline.
And when he started mumbling—half-conscious, slurring things under his breath—Nico had had enough.
“Will,” he murmured.
No response.
He sighed. “Will.”
Will jerked awake, eyes wide and wild.
Nico barely stopped himself from flinching.
“Wha—” Will’s breath hitched. He tightened his grip. “What? What’s wrong?”
“You’re exhausted.”
“I’m fine.”
Nico exhaled sharply through his nose.
“Will.” His voice was quieter this time. Steady. “You need to sleep.”
Will shook his head.
Nico expected that.
What he didn’t expect was the way Will’s hands started shaking.
Or the way his breathing staggered.
Or the sheer, raw fear in his eyes when he looked at Nico like that.
“I can’t,” Will whispered.
And that—that made something twist in Nico’s chest.
Gods.
He hated seeing Will like this.
He hated the dark circles under his eyes, the way his skin paled in the dim cabin light, the way his shoulders trembled from the sheer force of holding himself together.
Nico sighed.
Then—he reached up, his fingers brushing lightly over Will’s cheek.
Will froze.
His breath caught.
Nico’s voice softened. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Will swallowed hard.
“I know.”
“Then sleep.”
Will hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then, finally—his body gave out.
His shoulders slumped. His head fell against Nico’s chest.
And this time—he didn’t fight it.
Nico let out a slow breath.
His arms wrapped around him, fingers threading gently through Will’s hair.
And, for the first time in three days—Will slept.
—
Nico barely slept.
Even with Will finally passed out in his arms, he just laid there, staring at the ceiling, listening to Will’s slow, even breathing.
His body ached with exhaustion, but his mind wouldn’t shut up.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the way Will had looked at him—desperate, terrified, pleading.
And he hated it.
Will wasn’t supposed to look like that.
Will was supposed to be steady. Will was supposed to be the one holding things together. Will wasn’t supposed to fall apart.
And yet—
Nico swallowed hard.
Carefully, he shifted, just enough to see him.
Will was still curled against him, his face relaxed in sleep. The tension in his shoulders had finally eased. His breath ghosted against Nico’s collarbone, warm and slow.
He looked exhausted.
Even asleep, there were dark circles under his eyes, a deep weariness settled into his features.
Nico’s chest tightened.
Gods.
He’d done this to him.
If he hadn’t—
No.
He wouldn’t go down that road.
Not right now.
Not when Will was finally, finally getting the rest he needed.
So, instead of spiraling, Nico exhaled slowly, shifting just enough to get comfortable.
And, despite everything—he let his eyes slip shut.
---
When Will woke up, it was slow.
His mind was sluggish, his limbs heavy, like his body had sunk into the mattress.
For a few moments, he didn’t move.
Didn’t think.
Then—he felt warmth.
Familiar warmth.
His arms tightened, pulling Nico closer before he even fully processed he was awake.
He shifted against him, murmuring something under his breath, still half-asleep.
And Will—gods, he felt like he could breathe again.
Nico was here.
He wasn’t lost, he wasn’t gone, he wasn’t—
Will exhaled shakily, burying his face in Nico’s shoulder.
Nico made a quiet noise. “You awake?”
Will nodded.
For a moment, Nico was silent.
Then—
“You need to eat.”
Will huffed.
“Not yet.”
“Yes. Now.”
Will groaned, but Nico was already moving, slipping from his arms, leaving cold air in his place.
Will panicked.
His hands shot out, grabbing Nico’s wrist before he could pull away.
Nico froze.
Slowly, Will blinked up at him.
“…Don’t go.”
Nico’s expression softened.
“I’m not.” He reached out, brushing his thumb over Will’s cheek. “I’m just getting food.”
Will hesitated.
Then—reluctantly—he let go.
Nico disappeared for a moment, and Will hated it.
But he came back.
That was the important part.
He sat down beside him, holding out a piece of bread, and Will complied—if only because he knew Nico wouldn’t let him not eat.
He took a slow bite, chewing absently.
But then—
Then, instead of letting go—he took Nico’s wrist in his hand.
And pressed a kiss to the tip of his index finger.
Nico stiffened.
Will, unfazed, moved to the next one.
Then the next.
Soft, reverent kisses against each fingertip, trailing slowly down the length of his fingers.
Nico swallowed hard.
“Will.”
Will hummed, pressing another kiss to his palm.
Then, before Nico could process, he pulled him down, guiding him until he was practically on top of him, straddling his waist.
Nico’s breath hitched.
“Will.” His voice came out shaky.
But Will wasn’t listening.
His hands slid down Nico’s back, curling under his shirt, fingertips trailing along his spine.
Nico shivered.
Will’s lips found his jaw. His cheek. The corner of his mouth.
Everywhere.
Nico exhaled sharply, his hands trembling where they gripped Will’s shoulders.
“Will, what—”
“You’re here,” Will breathed, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You’re here, you’re here, you’re here.”
Each word was punctuated with a kiss.
And Nico—gods, he didn’t know what to do.
Will had never been like this before. Never.
Sure, he was affectionate, but this—this desperate, needy kind of affection—
It terrified him.
Because it meant Will had been just as scared as he had.
And for some reason—that was harder to process than his own fear.
“…I’m here.” His voice was barely a whisper.
Will made a small noise, something between relief and something softer, and his grip tightened.
His hands slid down Nico’s sides, resting at his waist, thumbs brushing over his hips.
Nico sucked in a sharp breath.
Will felt it.
He smirked against his cheek, nudging his nose against Nico’s temple.
“You’re warm,” he murmured.
Nico scoffed, but it came out weaker than intended. “You’re insufferable.”
Will only hummed, pressing a kiss to his forehead this time, hands still tracing slow patterns over his thighs, his back, the curve of his ribs.
Slotting them together in every way possible.
And Nico—
Nico let him.
Because, deep down, he understood.
Will wasn’t doing this to tease him.
He was doing this because he needed to.
Because he needed to touch, to feel, to reassure himself that Nico was here.
And, gods—Nico understood.
So he let himself melt.
Just a little.
And let Will hold him.
Will didn’t let go.
Even after the initial desperation settled, even after the kisses slowed, even after Nico shifted against him and made a small noise of protest—he still didn’t let go.
Nico huffed.
“You do realize I’m not going anywhere, right?”
Will just burrowed further into him.
“…Don’t care.” His voice was muffled against Nico’s collarbone.
Nico sighed, exasperated but fond.
A week ago, he might’ve teased Will for this. Annoyed him, prodded him, rolled his eyes and muttered something snarky under his breath.
But now—
Now he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.
Not when Will was clutching him like he’d disappear if he let go.
Not when his grip tightened every time Nico so much as shifted.
Not when he could feel Will’s heartbeat, unsteady and frantic against his ribs.
“…I’m not leaving,” Nico murmured.
Will swallowed hard.
“…You did.”
Nico froze.
The words weren’t accusatory, exactly.
Just… devastatingly honest.
Like Will hadn’t meant to say them out loud.
Like they’d just slipped out.
Like they’d been lodged in his throat for days, waiting, festering, choking him—
And now they were out.
Now they were real.
Nico’s chest tightened.
He exhaled slowly, threading his fingers through Will’s hair.
“…I came back.”
Will didn’t respond.
Didn’t move.
Just breathed against him, shaking.
Nico’s hand stilled.
“…You didn’t believe I would.”
Will tensed.
And that hurt more than anything.
Nico closed his eyes.
This was his fault.
Not for leaving.
Not for getting trapped in a situation he couldn’t control.
But for not realizing how much this would affect Will.
For not realizing how much it would break him.
He exhaled through his nose.
“I’m here now.”
Will nodded.
Slow, shaky.
Like he needed to believe it.
Like he needed to hear it over and over again.
Nico hated it.
“…Have you eaten anything?”
Will groaned.
“Nico.”
“I’m serious.”
Will sighed, shifting just enough to glare at him. “You fed me. Remember?”
“You ate one bite of bread and spent the next five minutes kissing me.”
Will smirked—a little too proud of himself.
Nico glared.
“Real food, Solace. Now.”
Will grumbled but didn’t fight him when Nico shifted out of his arms—though he did keep one hand curled around Nico’s wrist, like a silent promise that he wasn’t letting him get far.
Nico didn’t call him out on it.
Didn’t tease him.
Didn’t say anything as he handed Will a plate of food, watching as he begrudgingly picked at it.
Will took a bite.
Then another.
And another.
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Nico let out a slow breath.
Then—
Something shifted.
Will set the plate aside.
And before Nico could process, Will pulled him back into his lap.
Nico barely had time to breathe before Will kissed him.
It was soft at first. Gentle.
Like Will was trying to memorize the shape of his lips.
But then—
Then it deepened.
Will’s hands gripped his waist, his back, his thighs, pulling him closer, closer, like he was trying to meld them together.
Nico shuddered.
“Will.”
Will hummed against his mouth, barely breaking the kiss before pressing another to the corner of his lips, his cheek, his jaw.
“You taste like strawberries.”
Nico blinked.
“…What?”
Will just grinned, hands sliding under Nico’s shirt, warm palms pressing against his spine.
Nico shivered.
“Will—”
“You’re warm.”
“You said that already.”
Will nuzzled into his neck, ignoring him entirely.
Nico gave up.
Because Will needed this.
Needed to feel him, to hold him, to breathe him in.
So Nico let him.
Let him be as clingy as he needed.
Let him press kisses against his shoulder.
Let him trace slow, lazy patterns against his hips.
Let him exist in this moment.
Because Will had spent three days drowning.
And now—
Now, he was breathing again.
And somehow, Nico knew they would be ok.