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Will was okay. He really was.
As okay as any demigod who had arrived at camp pre-wars could be. Everyone had some sort of trauma.
His was just… a bit different.
His demigod-awakening had begun at age 8. When a flock of stymphalian birds disguised as pigeons had attacked him.
He had ended up rushed to the emergency room with superficial scars littering his body, some needing stitches—but most of all, they’d gone for his face. He had complete hearing loss in one ear from them.
It wasn’t something he liked to think about often. His encounters with other stymphalian birds had been few and far between sense, though none much more pleasant.
He’d been walking with Nico through New York as they made their way to anywhere they could buy some supplies for the infirmary. They needed just enough to last a few days until they could get their actual shipment in.
A group of pigeons were nearby. No big deal, Will didn’t necessarily have a ‘phobia’ of the birds… just preferred his distance to be kept.
Nico’s hand was in his, comforting to them both in the bustling streets of New York.
Someone ran by and—
Suddenly the birds were flying right at Will’s face.
He gasped and stepped aside, letting go of Nico’s hand, and that might have been the worst decision he made.
He was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, a flock of birds flying, alone and alone—
They flew up and away, but Will could not fly as easily as they did.
He stood still and looked at the spot they once were, mind remembering every time they had attacked him brutally.
But just as quick Nico was back at his side, fingers weaving between his own and familiar voice comforting him just like his mother did a decade ago.
“Hey, you’re fine—they’re gone. They were just normal birds. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He soothed.
Will let out a shaky breath he had held in, nodding, and let himself be dragged the rest of the afternoon.
He had an infirmary shift after, though he was still wired. It felt like his brain was not aware he was safe.
He knew. It was logical. He was in the infirmary, in the (mostly) safe camp, he was protected.
But his brain thought that he needed to stay on guard, to be wary of the world.
He went through the day like dragging through mud, but the mud was slowly drowning him alive. It was like bees buzzing his brain, making it impossible to breathe.
It was when Nico came in that it felt like it all came crashing down.
Nico seemed to see him immediately, to see that the world was weighing down on his shoulders like the weight of the sky, but he could not stand his ground.
It was not just the pigeons. It was years of overlapping and layered experiences and trauma that made one small, tiny thing roll and roll until it was so large that he could not see around it.
“Come here, Sunny,” Nico said quietly, opening his arms. Will pelted forward.
They stood in the middle of the infirmary for just a few moments as Will shook, drained from the day and overflowing with anxiety.
“Over here, love. Come to your office.” Nico pulled back slightly. Arms still embraced around the taller one. He tugged Will gently in the direction.
Will nodded wordlessly and followed, letting Nico lead him, letting him carry himself too.
When they got in there, in the silent and private, it’s like Will’s body knew it could let go.
He wept openly into Nico’s arms, dragging him down and curling into him on the old leather couch. His body shook, but over time, with every body wracking sob it lessened.
“I’m-I’m sorry.” Will hiccuped, sniffling and wiping his under eyes with his shirt.
“Don’t apologize, Tesoro.” Nico whispered. “Let me help you.”
Will cried again, but this time with a tiny smile. It disappeared to the deep churning thoughts, but it was there, and something to hold onto.