Work Text:
Will was supposed to be extroverted. A people pleaser. But sometimes he wasn’t. Sometimes he wanted to listen to an audio book or go for a long run or sit in a field and play Neil Diamond songs alone. Will was supposed to be the perfect head healer. Able to fix anyone who walked through the infirmary doors. But sometimes he wasn’t perfect. Sometimes, even after hours of trying, he couldn’t save someone. Sometimes, they were young. Sometimes, they were just arriving at camp and Will didn’t know anything about them besides their name. Sometimes, Will didn’t feel like a head healer. Will was supposed to be happy. Sunshine personified. But sometimes he wasn’t.
Sometimes he wasn’t and those times tore him apart the most.
Because Nico was healing. He was traumatized and prone to debilitative spells of depression. He’d lost a full sister and his best friend. He’d lost his mother and his father—well— Will wasn’t exactly palls with his father all the time, but at least Apollo wasn’t frightening. The truth of it was, Will didn’t know what to do with himself when he felt sad. When the weight of failure and grief made him feel like joining Nico in his little depression nest of blankets and pillows. Will didn’t know how to manage his emotions. He tried to help other people work through their own emotions, but he was at a loss when it came to his own sadness. So he retreated. He spent longer hours working and less hours around Nico and his friends. It pained him to keep his distance from his (they weren’t exactly boyfriends yet, but they weren’t exactly chums either) dearest companion. It wasn’t easy, but it’s what Will thought needed to be done.
At around two-fifteen in the morning, Will felt the presence of someone behind him. Will was standing over the body of a patient, hands twitching at his sides and tears threatening to spill over. He sniffled and murmured, “Nico,” into the dim lighting of the infirmary at night. “What’re you doin’ here, huh? Gonna get the harpies on your ass.”
Nico snorted a little. “They’re more scared of me, than I’m scared of them.”
Slowly, Nico came up next to his friend. Will furrowed his brow.
“You oughta get back to your cabin an’ sleep,” he said.
Nico shook his head.“You’ve been here for more than twelve hours.”
“S’no reason for you to stay up all night.”
“I wasn’t up all night,” Nico tried to reason. His hand hovered over Will’s shaking shoulder, unsure of how to initiate contact. It was always Will who held him. “Can I—“ Nico swallowed hard. “Can I touch you?”
Will’s head whipped in Nico’s direction. Tears were still trapped in his eyes.
“Yeah,” the son of Apollo breathed. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Nico nodded and gradually put his hand on Will’s shoulder to steady him. Will’s body was wrecked with tension and fatigue and pain and it about broke Nico’s heart to feel how hard Will was working at keeping it all in.
“I wasn’t up late,” Nico reiterated gently. “I woke up from…” he glanced down at the child in the bed. “I knew what happened to her. I…I felt it.”
Will inhaled sharply. “You felt me fail, then.”
“No!” Nico cried before exhaling slowly to calm himself. “No. You didn’t fail. You did everything you could.”
“You weren’t there, Nico.”
“I know I wasn’t. But I do know how hard you work and how much you care and how you did everything in your power to save her.”
“Him,” Will corrected. Gods, he hated how wrecked and raspy his voice sounded. “That was one of the only things he got to tell me before he…before it got too bad. He said—“ Will pinched his eyes shut. “He said he wanted to be buried a boy. Julien, not Julia.”
Nico nodded jerkily. He was beginning to understand the various things Will tried to explain to him about gender and queer identity. So much of Nico’s life made sense with Will’s help and carefully thought out conversations.
Nico looked down at the young boy (he couldn’t have been more than twelve years old) and let out a heavy sigh.
“I’ll send him off the way he deserves. I can give that to him,” he said.
Will nodded and pushed away from his not-really-yet-boyfriend-but-more-than-friend. Nico followed his gaze as Will’s eyes landed on the sink close by.
“Need to clean up,” Will mumbled. Nico stood where he was. He wanted to give Will his space. Allow him time to process and move through his motions. Nico wanted to trust Will and leave him to his own grief, but even from meters away and in the dark, Nico could tell the son of Apollo hadn’t turned on the cold faucet. The water was scalding—steaming and relentless. Nico flinched. He watched Will wash his hands one, twice, and by the third time, Nico had enough. He crossed the floor and turned the hot water off. Will kept scrubbing, fierce and determined, despite Nico’s hand over the faucet.
“Will…” Nico’s other hand hovered over Will’s red and raw ones.
“Don’t—“ Will sobbed. The tears were coming thick and fast. “I’m not—I’m not clean yet.” He scrubbed his hands together relentlessly. He pumped the bottled soap, but it was empty. He’d gone through the last of it. It had been full when his shift had started.
Nico grabbed Will’s hands. He wasn’t sure what else to do. What else would calm him. Gods, his pulse was racing. Will stared at him with tears streaming down his face.
“You’re clean, Will. You’re all clean.”
“M’not,” Will tried to yank his hands back so he could scrub them some more.
“Yes you are, honey. You’re clean and you’re tired and we should get you to bed.”
“But there’s blood.”
Nico frowned and inspected Will’s shaking hands. They were red and raw and burned from him overusing his powers, but there wasn’t a spec of blood on them. Nico pulled up Will’s right wrist, and in a moment of pure empathy, kissed it.
“There’s no blood on you,” he murmured. “Trust me.”
Then Will’s entire body began to shake. “I’ve got his blood on my hands, Nico. His and Claire’s and Peter’s and…and…Michael and Lee and—oh Gods—Lee left this place to me and…and I—“
“C’mere,” Nico gave Will a light tug towards him and that’s all it took for Will to collapse into Nico’s arms.
“Gods, Nico, there was so much blood. And his face—“ Will heaved a sob into Nico’s chest. “It didn’t feel real. If it weren’t for his shoes, I wouldn’t have been able to tell it was him. Lee had track suits made for Apollo cabin that year and…and everyone was wearing them. But Lee had these green Nike runners he always wore and…”
Nico squeezed Will tighter. “I got you,” he whispered. He didn’t say it was okay or that Will was okay, because none of it was okay. “We’ll get through this. You’re not alone.” Nico felt Will nod against him and sighed in relief. “Let’s get back to my cabin, okay? Just the two of us. You need a good three days of rest.”
Will let out a weak chuckle. “That sounds familiar.”
“Does it? That’s weird.”
Will sniffled. “Don’t—“ he pulled away from Nico slightly. “Don’t want you shadow travelling.”
“Please,” Nico kissed the tip of Will’s nose. “We’ve been practicing, remember? I’m recovered.”
“Not entirely.”
“Enough to cross not even a quarter of camp.”
Will let Nico manoeuvre them over to the shadows he came from. “Hey, death-boy?” he whispered.
“Stop calling me that. What?”
“You kissed me. And called me honey.”
“You were grieving. Sue me.”
“I liked it.”
Nico rolled his eyes. “Good.”
Later, once Will forced Nico to drink a Gatorade and Nico made sure Will had ample blankets, Lindt chocolate, and stuffed animals to comfort him, they opened Will’s recently snuck-in used MacBook.
“So…” Nico concentrated on logging onto the streaming service. He was still getting used to how track pads worked. “What’ll it be.”
“Vanderpump Rules.”
“You’re terrible.”
“Tom Sandoval is terrible. I’m annoying,” Will watched how Nico made himself comfortable next to him and the many fuzzy blankets.
Nico scowled dramatically. “Tom is the worst. Raquel, like, maybe a little worse yet.”
Will’s eyes lit up. “So you are paying attention.”
“Shut it,” Nico groused into his blanked. “I lose ten brain cells per episode.”