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Will didn’t recognize the room he was in. The floors were wooden, there was a single window above the cot he sat on, and he was surrounded by patterned curtains that were so faded he couldn’t make out what the pattern actually was. There was a slight crack between the curtains that allowed him to see the passing of other people every so often, and the distant, quiet chattering and sound of footsteps helped Will to know he wasn’t alone.
At the foot of the cot, a few feet away from the end, stood a whiteboard on wheels.
- There’s been a minor accident, and you’re experiencing temporary memory loss. You are physically unharmed - yes, you already checked for yourself. We don’t know how long the memory loss will last, but we’re positive it’s temporary. It mostly affected your short-term memory, but some long-term as well.
- You’re in the infirmary at camp. You live at camp and work in the infirmary. Everybody here knows and likes you. Most people are aware of your condition, and we’re all happy to answer your questions.
- You were admitted around 10am on June 29th. Kayla last checked in on you at 2:21pm on June 29th
- You had lunch at 12:15pm. If you need a snack, need to pee, or want help with anything else, just shout
Will studied the board, trying to memorize the information it gave him and reaching for any clues that might tell him more. He lived at camp? Maybe it was normal for a seventeen year old to live at a camp, if that was their summer job. And his job must have been going well, if everyone knew and liked him. He hoped this little mishap wouldn’t affect his employment.
He noted a few differences in handwriting across the board, some spots that looked like something had been erased and written over, different colored markers used on certain words. Kayla and 2:21pm had the most smudging underneath them, with different handwriting than the rest of the board. The entire last bullet point was orange and written in a slightly loopier font, which was a bit harder to read.
“Kayla?” Will called out, unsure if he was supposed to ask for someone specific or just give a generalized shout for help.
A freckled redhead appeared through the crack in the curtain, and Will breathed a sigh of relief. He knew Kayla. That’s his sister. “You good?” she asked. “Caught yourself up?”
Will nodded. “Yeah. Just needed to see a familiar face, I think. This situation is…weird, right?”
Kayla flip-flopped her hand. “Ehh. Not something we’ve had to deal with before, but pretty par for the course around here, if we’re just going off of weirdness. But you’re good? You don’t need to pee, or whatever?”
Will frowned. “No, but… It says I have to shout for help to pee? Do I need help peeing?”
She laughed, but tried to cover it up. “No, but the last time Austin let you go by yourself and you couldn’t find the bathroom until it was almost too late. I know you won’t remember, but do me a favor and ask for help next time, alright? I know that’s not your strong suit.”
“I feel like I should be offended,” Will replied, “but I can’t remember enough to know if that’s a general dig or specific to the memory issue.”
Kayla shrugged. “You probably should feel a little offended, yeah. Otherwise I wouldn’t be fulfilling my role as your little sister.”
“You wouldn’t bully someone who can’t remember things.”
“Clearly your condition is worse than we thought,” she scoffed. “Anyway, if you don’t need anything, I’d better get back to work. We’re down our head medic, so Austin and I have to pick up the slack.” She stepped toward the whiteboard, wiping away the 21 with her finger and replacing it with 47, now in red ink instead of black, the marker seemingly drawn at random.
“Head medic?” Will repeated, feeling a gentle surge of pride as he realized she had to be referring to him.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” Kayla said, capping the marker and setting it back on the tray on the bottom of the board. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be - or, I don’t know, maybe it’s fine for somebody that’s not a workaholic.”
Will blinked. “Uh huh. Sorry, what were we talking about?”
Kayla waved him off. “Nothing important. Shout if you need me, alright?”
Technically, Will was fine. So, technically, there had been no reason to pull Nico out of his morning and midday sword fighting classes that he taught for some of the younger campers. There was nothing Nico could do about Will’s condition anyway, and it wasn’t like Will knew that his boyfriend hadn’t come to check in on him all morning.
Just because everything was technically no big deal, though, didn’t mean that Cecil was happy that he’d somehow drawn the short straw, and had to wait outside the arena to intercept Nico when his final class ended. They hadn’t even drawn straws. How did he get stuck with this job, again?
The arena emptied out in a flood, then a trickle, and then Nico was leaving on his own, that horrifically dark - yet somehow glowing purple? - and wickedly sharp sword hanging from his belt. Cecil had heard terrible things about that sword. He didn’t want to know how little it would take to piss Nico off enough that Cecil would have to learn what that blade felt like.
“Hey, Nico!” Cecil called, jogging up to him with a smile plastered on his face. “What’s up, dude?”
Nico’s eyebrow twitched at Cecil’s approach, but at least he didn’t seem alarmed by his presence. “Just finished teaching for the day. Gonna go meet up with Will. Have you seen him?”
“Uh, yeah,” Cecil replied. This was his only chance for this to not blow up in his face. “I heard he’s in the infirmary.”
Nico rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched up, fond. “Of course he is.”
He turned away from the direction of the cabins, heading toward the infirmary instead, but Cecil hurried to get in his way. “He’s, uh, he’s not working this time. But he’s not hurt, either!”
Nico stopped in his tracks, that faint hint of a smile gone from his face. “What are you saying?”
Cecil could feel that his own grin was beginning to falter. “I mean… Some of the Hecate kids were messing with spells, like they always do, and… Like I said, Will’s not hurt, but he did get caught in the crossfire.”
Nico’s eyes hardened. When he spoke, his voice was low, but filled with fire. “Why didn’t anyone come to get me?”
Cecil’s hands shot up in surrender. “There’s nothing anybody can do! We just have to wait it out--”
“Bullshit,” Nico snapped, and Cecil watched as the shadows darkened at their feet.
Before Nico could jump, Cecil grabbed his wrist and pulled him back into the sun. “I’m serious!” he exclaimed. “Everybody’s looked him over - even Mr. D! There’s nothing we can do but wait until the spell’s effects wear off, and then Will’s going to be back to normal.”
Nico twisted his arm out of Cecil’s hold, grabbing the front of his shirt instead and tugging Cecil closer, knocking him briefly off his feet. “What’s not normal?”
“It was a memory spell!” Cecil told him. “It messed with his short-term memory, or something like that. But it’s temporary!”
Nico took a breath, calming himself before he shoved Cecil back. “Talk faster next time.”
Cecil, who had been told to talk slower for his entire life, didn’t know what to do with that.
Nico stepped around him, moving at a quick march toward the infirmary, because as much as he wanted to run, he didn’t want to look pathetic. Cecil had just told him Will was fine, after all.
It wasn’t until he had jogged up the steps of the Big House’s porch and walked through the infirmary’s front door that his brain started working again.
If Will was experiencing memory loss, would he even know who Nico was?
Maybe he would recognize Nico, but would he know that they were together?
If Will did remember him, though, would he be wondering why Nico hadn’t checked on him?
Nico managed to walk a few steps into the infirmary before he was frozen by indecision. He couldn’t even make himself step out of the way when Yan came flying by, arms loaded down with medical supplies, and had to quickly swerve around him in the middle of the room.
“Dude,” Kayla’s voice suddenly came from behind him, “seriously,” and then she put her hands on his shoulders and started walking him forward. Nico moved willingly until they started to reach the back of the infirmary, closing in on one bed that had the curtains drawn around it, and then Nico felt his legs lock. If he’d been wearing only socks instead of his combat boots, Kayla probably would have continued to slide him across the floor until they were through the curtains.
“Stop, stop!” he hissed, and finally side-stepped out of Kayla’s hold. “What if he doesn’t remember me?”
Kayla rolled her eyes. She started toward the curtains once more, and before Nico could stop her, she poked her head inside. “Hey, Will, do you remember Nico?”
“Kayla!”
“Nico?” Will echoed, and Nico felt his heart stop in anticipation. “Um, no, I don’t think so. Should I?”
It’s temporary, Nico tried to remind himself, but it didn’t stop his heart from fracturing.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kayla told him, and then returned to Nico’s side. “There’s your answer. You can introduce yourself, if you want. Or you can wait, like, five minutes, and he won’t remember that I asked him, anyway.”
Nico stood, again, frozen. “I, uh--”
“At least get out of the way if you’re just going to stand there.”
It wasn’t often that Malcolm got to study the effects of the Hecate cabin’s magical mishaps. He always had to try to jump in before the affected camper was sent to the infirmary, because if he waited until after, then Will wouldn’t even let him step through the door. If Will was the patient, and if he couldn’t remember what was happening for more than a few minutes, then there was no one to stop him.
Malcolm arrived at the infirmary with a tote bag loaded down with medical textbooks, his arms filled with notebooks, a clipboard, and a case filled with pencils and a variety of colored highlighters. It wasn’t hard for him to figure out which bed Will was in - it was rare for the curtains to be pulled all the way around one of the beds like they were in the back of the infirmary. There was also the fact that Nico kept lingering near that bed, always peeking around the edge of the curtains from a distance, but never actually stepping inside the barrier. Odd, in Malcolm’s opinion, but a great clue.
He planned on marching straight in and getting right to work, but Austin stopped him before he could reach the curtains. “What’s up, dude?” Austin asked, eyeing Malcolm’s bag suspiciously.
“I’m here to study Will,” Malcolm answered. No point in lying to an Apollo kid, he’d learned.
Austin crossed his arms over his chest. “He can’t really consent to being studied, you know. I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
Malcolm shrugged. “It’s not like he’ll remember it anyway.”
Austin, surprisingly, caved. “Yeah, alright.” He stepped aside, allowing Malcolm to pass.
Before Austin could change his mind, Malcolm let himself through the curtains, quickly surveying the blocked-off area from the whiteboard full of notes to the chair and small table at Will’s bedside. Will smiled at him, a little vacant, something lost behind the eyes, so Malcolm jumped right in.
“Hi, Will,” he said as he continued further into the space, setting some things down on the bedside table and dropping down into the chair, his bag going to the floor at his feet. He pulled out his clipboard and clicked a pen, official. “I’m Doctor Pace, a neurologist here to learn more about your condition.”
Will’s smile turned a bit lopsided. “Hey, listen, I know I have a bit of an issue right now, but I think I know you’re not a doctor, Malcolm.”
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed. “Interesting…” He drew a quick T-chart on the first page attached to his clipboard, labeling the two sides as remembers and doesn’t remember. He added himself to the first column. “What can you tell me about yourself, Will? Where are you from? What was your childhood like?”
“Oh! Uh…” Will pouted slightly, turning to gaze off into the middle distance as he conjured the thoughts. “I grew up in a suburb of Austin, Texas. I was raised by my mama - no dad around - but I spent a lot of time with my mama’s parents while she was out on tour. And then when I was… eleven-ish… I think I… moved? I don’t know where I moved to.” His eyes trailed over the whiteboard just past the foot of his bed. “Camp? Did I move to this camp? And now I work here?”
Malcolm let his own eyes dart over the board briefly. Just from a quick skim, he deduced that Will didn’t have any memories of the camp itself - but then how did he recognize Malcolm? “Yes,” he answered simply, because the board did say that his visitors would be happy to answer any questions he had, “you moved to this camp when you were around eleven. Do you know how old you are now? And do you remember the last time you saw your mom? Or talked to her?”
“I’m seventeen,” Will answered quickly - an easy one, it would seem. “And my mama… I talk to her… a few times a year, probably. She gets busy on tour, so it’s hard, but I haven’t seen her since…” He frowned, his eyebrows furrowed so deeply that it looked like it hurt. “Sorry, I think I’m getting confused. All I can think of when I think about the last time I saw my mama, all I can picture is, like, the side of a freeway - like we were standing in the median, with cars racing by on both sides. But I can’t-- I don’t know how we would have gotten there. Why would we be there?”
“Let’s move on to something that might be easier,” Malcolm offered, adding some more notes to his chart. “Can you tell me some of your friends’ names?”
Will’s face relaxed almost instantly. “Easy. Austin and Kayla are probably some of my best friends - I know we’re, like, related, but we’re still friends. Cecil is one of my best friends. Let’s see, uh… Well, you, Mal, you’re my friend. There’s, uh, Alex and Oscar and Maddie. I dunno, how many people are you looking for?”
Malcolm jotted down names as fast as Will said them. “Those last three - I don’t recognize them. Are they friends from Texas?”
“...Yeah,” Will replied, needing a second to think about it. “Yes, we were in the same class before I moved.”
“And you said you know that you’re related to Austin and Kayla,” Malcolm continued. “Do you know how you’re related to them?”
Will shrugged. “Cousins, maybe? It’s… fuzzy.”
“That’s okay. What about your other friends? Tell me if you recognize any of these names: Lou Ellen. Miranda. Uh, Percy? Nico. Drew.”
Will frowned deeper and deeper with each name Malcolm said, until finally, “Drew. I think I know Drew. That’s a girl, right? And she’s really into… makeup?”
Malcolm added another note. “Pretty much, yeah. But that’s it? You don’t remember anyone else I mentioned?”
“I…” Will’s frown drifted away from frustration, heading closer to confusion. “I don’t… Sorry, what were we talking about?”
“I was asking about your friends,” Malcolm reminded him.
“Oh.” Will nodded, and then asked, “And what were you asking about them?”
They must have reached the reset point on Will’s short-term memory, Malcolm guessed. He waved off Will’s question. “It’s not important.” He set aside the clipboard and bent at the waist, reaching for his bag and digging around inside until he pulled out a stopwatch. “Can you do me a favor, Will?”
Will snapped to attention, his head whipping back toward Malcolm from where he’d started reading the whiteboard in front of him. “I can try. It sounds like I have a bit of a memory problem right now, but I’ll do what I can.”
“It should be really easy for you,” Malcolm assured him. “I’m going to try to figure out how long your memory lasts. I just want you to sit there and try to remember this conversation for as long as possible, and I’m going to time you.”
“How will you know how long it’s been since I remembered something?” Will asked.
“I think I know you pretty well,” Malcolm told him. “Now, just sit back and relax. Try to hold onto this moment in your memory.”
For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. They stared at each other to the point where it started to feel uncomfortable, and then kept going. Until, finally, Will’s eyes seemed to glaze over slightly, and he asked, “Sorry, did you ask me something?”
Malcolm hit the button on his stopwatch to start the timer - he couldn’t very well try to start in the middle of a cycle, after all. “Nope,” he replied. “Go ahead and read the board over there, and let me know when you’re done.”
Will frowned, confused, and turned his attention to the board. Malcolm went back to jotting down notes and theories - since Lou’s magic was typically Mist-based, maybe Will’s Mist-based memories were the ones most affected - until he heard a soft, “Oh.”
Malcolm looked up, prepared to console his upset friend - or, more likely, call in somebody else that could do the consoling - but when he looked up from his clipboard, Will didn’t look upset. He wasn’t even looking at the whiteboard. “What?” Malcolm asked, trying to follow Will’s gaze through the crack between the curtains, but Malcolm didn’t see anything but a blank wall across the room.
“There’s, um.” Will’s spine had straightened, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “Who’s the hot guy?”
“Hot guy?” Malcolm leaned forward in his seat to try to get a glimpse, but the only person he could see beyond the curtain was Nico.
Oh.
Duh.
“That’s Nico,” Malcolm answered.
“Does he…” Will hesitated. “The board says Kayla came to check in on me. Does Nico ever check on me?”
Malcolm tried not to roll his eyes. “I can ask. Did you finish reading the board?”
“Oh, sorry, no,” Will said, flinching like he’d been shocked. His posture relaxed slightly as he refocused his attention. A minute or two passed before he spoke again: “Okay, I’m done. The board says… I mean, you know what it says. Do you know how it happened?”
“Not really, no. I know your friend Lou Ellen had a part in it, and I know she feels very bad for what happened, but it was also an accident, so she doesn’t need to feel guilty about it.”
“Lou Ellen… I don’t think I remember her.” Will turned toward Malcolm, worried. “Is that bad? I feel like I should remember my friends, right?”
“I don’t think you need to be nervous about this,” Malcolm assured him. “We’re all confident that your condition is temporary, so you’ll remember her eventually. I think I’m actually starting to narrow down some of the specifics of your memory loss - why you remember some things but not others. And, actually, if I’m right--” and, typically, he was, “--then Lou might actually be able to help, if she’s up for it.”
Malcolm quickly jotted a note for himself: talk to Lou. When he looked up, Will’s eyes had gone sort of vacant again.
He looked around the room, brief. “Um. Where are we?”
Malcolm hit the stopwatch, stopping the timer. “This is the infirmary,” he answered as he rose from his chair, moving toward the whiteboard. “There’s been a minor accident affecting your short-term memory. Everything you need to know is written on this board.” He grabbed a marker at random and started to add another bullet point to the list.
- Your short-term memory lasts about 7 ½ minutes.
“Oh, that’s… good to know, I guess,” Will said, but Malcolm thought he sounded a bit distracted. “I can think of something that’s not on that list, though.”
Malcolm glanced at Will over his shoulder, questioning.
Will’s cheeks darkened in a blush, his freckles turning into tiny pinpricks of light. “Who’s the hot guy out there?”
Malcolm didn’t bother looking, this time. He turned back to the board before rolling his eyes, and added another bullet point:
- The hot guy is Nico
Nico had been hanging around the infirmary for a few hours, helping the Apollo kids wherever he could. He hadn’t built up the courage to check in on Will, but he hovered nearby the curtained-off area whenever one of Will’s siblings went inside to see him, and demanded an update as soon as they emerged.
There was still no change in Will’s condition.
It was hard to hold on to hope that Will would get better. To Nico, this all felt pretty par for the course - someone came into his life that loved Nico just as much as he loved them, and some horrible, gods-related incident came to rip them apart. Losing his mother had been tough, and he’d thought that Bianca joining the Hunters had been bad enough before she died as well.
The death of a loved one almost seemed like a mercy compared to whatever was going on with Will. What if Chiron was wrong, and his condition wasn’t temporary? What if Will never remembered Nico again? Why couldn’t the Fates cut Nico some slack, just once?
“Nico?”
Nico froze in the middle of sweeping the floor.
“Nico! Hey, Nico!”
He dropped the broom and took off across the infirmary, bursting through the opening in the curtains. “Will? Are you okay?”
Will was sitting up on his cot, criss-cross with a thin blanket pulled over his legs. His eyes went wide, his mouth falling slack when he saw Nico. “Oh, wow. The board was right - you are a hot guy.”
Nico wasn’t sure whether to feel dread or embarrassment. But now that he was here - now that he finally saw Will for himself - he wasn’t sure he would be able to leave. “Um. So, how are you feeling? Are you hungry, or…?”
Nico moved a cot into Will’s curtain-walled room. He got dinner for both of them, directed Will to the bathroom and back to his bed, and kept him company for the rest of the night. Nico wanted to crawl into Will’s cot with him when they went to bed, wanted to fall asleep with the assurance that Will was okay, that he was going to get better. But he wasn’t sure how Will would interact if he woke up in the middle of night, still confused and suddenly afraid of the other person in his bed.
So Nico slept fitfully, as usual, tending to wake at even the slightest sounds across the infirmary - another camper tossing and turning, the midnight shift infirmary staff doing their rounds. He only really seemed to sleep just before dawn, but then the sun was shining in through the windows and beaming directly into his eyes. He didn’t see any point in trying to fall back asleep after that.
He woke with a soft groan, not directed at anyone or anything, just a general expression of how being awake made him feel. When he opened his eyes, he found Will sitting up in his bed again, already carefully studying him with a soft smile on his face.
“You must be Nico,” Will said.
Never mind. Nico wanted to roll over and sleep until Will’s memory nightmare was over. “Huh?”
Will pointed toward the whiteboard. Nico had made a few updates throughout the evening, adding on what time Will had eaten dinner and answering a few of Will’s more common questions.
Nico pushed himself up, swinging his feet toward the ground and holding himself upright with his hands on the cot’s frame. “Oh, right. Uh, yeah, I’m Nico.”
Will grinned. “I figured you must be, because you’re the only hot guy I’ve seen around. You’re, like, hot guy from my dreams kind of hot.”
Nico choked on his spit.
“Probably a real sweetheart, too,” Will continued, his smile growing. “Funny and kind and caring. Stubborn, too. Like, stupid levels of stubborn.”
Nico rolled his eyes, if only to cover the way his heart had skipped a beat. “Okay, so, I take it your memory is back to normal.”
“Why, whatever do you mean?” Will asked, but he didn’t bother trying to tame his giant, toothy grin. “I just woke up next to the hottest guy ever, who I can only imagine is going to whisk me away on a dangerous, exciting, and most importantly, romantic adventure to somewhere exotic. Like, maybe my own cabin instead of this infirmary cot.”
Nico ran his hands over his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as relief washed over him. The tension melted from his shoulders, and all he wanted to do was throw himself at Will to soak up as much of Will’s warmth as possible. “Uh huh,” he said instead. “I’ll get right on that as soon as you’re discharged.”
“Kayla already came by about half an hour ago,” Will told him, finally dropping the act (if it could even be considered one). “She said I’m good to go. Can we go get breakfast? I’m starving.”
Nico got to his feet, holding his hands out to pull Will up as well. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Better than ever,” Will replied, so they put on their shoes and headed out of the infirmary, coming to a brief stop on the Big House porch. Will’s eyes slipped shut as he took in a deep breath of fresh air.
Nico squeezed his hand. “Hey.” Will’s head tipped toward him. “I’m glad you remember me.”
Will smiled. “Me too.” He leaned down, drawing Nico in for a kiss. He led Nico down the steps by the hand, drifting off toward the left as soon as they reached the grass.
Nico pushed his shoulder into Will’s side, knocking him back on course. “The pavilion is this way.”
Will’s head swiveled around, like he couldn’t find his bearings. “Oh, right, of course. Sorry, I was thinking about going to, uh… My cabin.”
Nico raised an eyebrow, and turned Will in the opposite direction until they could see the circle of cabins in the distance. “Your cabin that’s over there?”
Will laughed, a second too late, and bumped Nico with his hip. “Babe, I’m kidding. Let’s go eat already.”
Nico let himself be dragged onward toward the pavilion, but he couldn’t help but wonder whether Will’s memory was actually as healed as he claimed.