Archive of Our Own

        My only one

          Nico looked around the room of the Big House, smiling anxiously.

“Hey! Where’s…where’s my sister?” Percy stood up and regarded him coldly, his eyes a violent shade of lilac.“Let me show you, son of Hades”, he said, reaching out to place an ice cold hand on Nico’s cheek. Nico flinched, his vision tunneling as he appeared in a giant bronze room full of controls. He watched as his hands flew across the controls, flicking at switches and buttons at random. The room started shaking, pieces of bronze falling all around him. Suddenly, the shaking jerked to a stop and the walls lit up with electricity. Nico screamed as the walls started closing in, squeezing, suffocating, smothering him. Through the darkness, a pair of glowing purple eyes, the colour of bruised violets, examined him frigidly as the inky blackness swallowed him whole. 

Nico’s eyes flew open, heart pounding against his rib cage and breathing shallow. The sensation of waking up from a nightmare was familiar to him by now–the cold sweat, the fear, the salt on his cheeks. The only difference was the unfamiliar feeling of an arm thrown around his waist. He rolled over to find a familiar head of blond curls and the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Nico moved closer, seeking out the warmth of Will’s embrace to calm his racing heart, pulling him in tighter. Will made a muffled sound of protest at being disturbed but allowed Nico to bury his face in his chest.

Will stood at the edge of a canyon, the crack in the earth yawning up at them. As the dry dirt crumbled under him, Nico lunged forward to grab his boyfriend’s arm but watched in horror as his fingers passed straight through his arm like it was made of mist and the son of Apollo fell into the abyss. Nico scrambled to the edge, peering into the chasm. Again, there were those purple eyes, twin amethysts gleaming with malice. They blinked, and the earth crumbled beneath his feet, sending him tumbling into the void. Nico woke with a gasp. He turned to find Will, soft golden curls framing his face, those beautiful blue eyes staring right at him. He reached out and gently cupped Nico’s cheek with one hand, gently tracing tear tracks with his thumb. 

“Shhh…it’s okay.”

“You’re here.” His voice sounded wrong, raw and soft.

“Of course I’m here. I’m always here.”

My smoking gun

Will had not seen Nico since breakfast, nor had he seen him eat breakfast so he decided to grab an apple and find him. Will found him at the arena, slashing and hacking at the straw dummies. The grass around him in a three foot radius was dark and withered, shadows swirling around him like a storm of emotions. His cacodemons cowered in a corner, backing away from his sword. Will stood there, mesmerised by his movements, how his dark hair fell around his face, the glint of his Stygian iron blade, the cute little furrow between his brows.

“You’re staring.” Nico finished decapitating the straw figures and wiped the sweat off his brow. Will’s cheeks flamed and he tossed the apple to Nico, “I brought you breakfast.” Nico caught the apple with one hand, looking down as his cheeks pinked. Will grinned, noticing his reaction, and motioned for Nico to sit down next to him.

My eclipsed sun

Will watched as Nico sat down and gently nibbled on his apple, enjoying the way he leaned into him as if seeking out his warmth. He watched as he finished the apple and licked the juice off his lips, tossing the core to the Cocoa Puffs, who devoured the remainder of the fruit. 

“You’re staring again, Solace” Will forced his gaze away from his boyfriend’s lips to meet those piercing russet eyes. Without realising what he was doing, Will reached out and brushed a strand of dark hair away from his face. Nico flinched. He flinched. Will immediately withdrew his hand, ignoring the twinge of pain in his heart. 

“No, it’s okay! I didn’t…” Nico grabbed his hand, gripping it tighter than usual. Will entwined his fingers with Nico’s, feeling him relax slightly. 

“You were crying last night. Do you… do you want to talk about it? Mr. D always said it’s better to talk about it.”

Nico scoffed under his breath. “Wow, quoting Mr. D. You must be desperate.”

Will frowned. “Nico, I’m being serious.”

“Yeah,” Nico muttered, “that’s the problem.”

“Please?”

Nico looked away, a muscle tightening in his jaw. Will couldn’t help but notice his striking features— pale skin, dark eyes, every edge carved sharp and delicate. He was the complete opposite of Will, who was all soft features and golden curls. Yet somehow they fit together perfectly. The darkness to my light, Will thought, allowing his gaze to drop down to his lips. They looked as if they were made for half smiles, and Will dreamed of them constantly, tracing their shape with his eyes. He was so hauntingly beautiful it made Will’s chest ache, made him feel lucky to have him.

This has broken me down

Nico shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Will’s eyes. “I… nightmares… Bianca…” He pushed the memory away, pushed away the pain, the hurt, the grief. But it was still there, clawing at him from the corners of his mind. The memory came back to him, painfully sharp and vivid—the bronze room, Bianca’s death, and worst of all Percy, strikingly handsome, staring down at him with pity. One of the Puffs— Grief, climbed into his lap, nuzzling him gently. 

 His chest tightened, lungs filling with iron. Every breath came in short, rapid pants. His vision tunneled, the world shrinking down to the sound of his heartbeat— wrong, loud and unsteady. His fingers went numb, tingling like they weren’t his. Painful memories raced through his mind, slicing at his sanity. Nico could feel himself slipping, emotions swirling out of control. 

Through his haze of emotions, Nico could feel Will shaking him, asking if he was okay. He couldn’t  feel, couldn’t think through the pain, the whirlwind of emotions keeping him from responding. He couldn’t move or even speak, even as Will wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into an embrace.

My twisted knife

Nico could feel the rough flannel of Will’s shirt, his hand rubbing gentle soothing circles on his back, pulling him out of the fog of his memories. Nico rested his head on Will’s chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to a steady thump, in sync with his.

Sensing that Nico had calmed down, Will shifted him into a more comfortable position,carefully brushing a tear from the corner of his eye. Nico pressed in closer, listening to the steady rhythm of Will’s heartbeat, clinging to the sound like an anchor. It scared Nico, how much he needed Will. He feared even more the thought of possibly losing him. His past, marred by tragedy, was feeding his insecurities. He had lost almost everyone he loved, his mother, his sister, Jason Grace— all gone. He knew he had fallen for Will, and that made him afraid. Still, he stayed, listening to his pulse and pushing the pain of loving someone else deep down, burying it under the snowstorm of his emotions.

Will didn’t say much after that, just helped Nico up and walked him to the infirmary like nothing happened. The rest of the day passed in small pieces— sunlight spilling through the windows of the infirmary, Will joking with the other campers, Nico sitting quietly in a corner and hiding a smile. Every once in a while, Will would look up and smile at Nico, or brush his hand against his. Small actions that meant the world to him. Still, the pain of loving him lingered as did the fear of losing him as Nico watched him work, admiring his golden blond curls, the way his fingers moved deftly, wrapping bandages and applying ointments, the way he chewed his lip while inspecting a patient. 

Will shone without trying, making the shadows in Nico recoil a little as he watched him work with both envy and fascination. Will’s light made him feel both alive and unseen and Nico hated it.

My sleepless night

Will felt him wake up, his body jerking and trembling from another nightmare. This time, Will didn’t speak, only held Nico close until he stopped shaking and his breathing evened out. 

Nico woke up several times again that night. Every time, Will was there, holding his hand, tracing patterns on his wrist, or simply just being there and waiting for him to calm down and fall asleep. 

The next morning, Will was drained. He had barely slept the last night, not letting himself fall asleep until Nico had calmed down. But seeing Nico well rested for once filled him with a sense of contentment, and every hour of sleep he had lost was worth it to see his boyfriend like that.

My winless fight

An Iris-message had arrived for Will. Bob peered through the mist at him, “My sun and my star! Bob has been trying to reach you. Nature spirits here in the west have been strange. Coughing blood or sap then going into permanent hibernation and never coming back. They also fight each other and forget things. Bob thinks they are sick, but even Bob cannot heal. Bob thinks they need a healer. Can Will, son of Apollo come and help?” 

Will frowned, “I’ve never seen that before, but I’ll talk to Chiron and see if I can go over to assist you.”

“I’m coming too.”, Nico melted out of the shadows.

“On one condition. You go with me to the strawberry fields. You need more vitamin D anyway.”

Nico grumbled something under his breath but followed Will to the fields anyway. They spent the morning picking strawberries. Nico’s fingers brushed the red fruit with surprising gentleness. “You look like you’re negotiating a peace treaty with the plants”, Will laughed softly.

“Plants don’t scream,” Nico muttered under his breath and continued picking, squinting against the sunlight.

“Brighten up, Sunshine,” Will plucked a strawberry and threw it at Nico. It hit him in the neck, crimson splattering on pale skin, a stark yet beautiful contrast. Nico looked up, a mischievous glint in his coffee brown eyes. He picked up a strawberry and flung it at Will, hitting him squarely in the chest. 

Will glanced down at the ruby juice then back at Nico. “Oh you didn’t .” He lunged forward and tackled Nico around the waist, sending both of them tumbling through the fields. They rolled across the grass together, laughter breaking between them. Nico pinned Will easily, and Will grinned up at him. Will plucked a strawberry and weakly threw it at Nico, hitting him in the mouth and staining his lips scarlet. Nico startled, sat back and raised a hand to wipe the juice off his mouth. Will reached up to stop him, and before he knew what he was doing, he crushed his mouth to Nico’s. 

This has frozen my ground

Nico’s breath caught. Everything went quiet except for the rush of blood to his ears. His first instinct was to pull away, away from the light, away from the warmth, like how he had always done his whole life. The warmth of Will’s mouth startled him and he instinctively parted his lips, betraying the panic fluttering in his chest. Part of him was screaming to pull away but he chose to lean in, kissing him deeper, intoxicated by the taste of strawberries and sunshine. Time folded in on itself, trapping them in that moment. The world tilted, narrowing down to Nico and Will—his lips, his tongue, his able hands on Nico’s neck, drawing him in closer. 

And when Will inevitably drew away to breathe, Nico was hit with the revelation that he never wanted him to let go.

Nico had not spent his whole life pushing people away. Once, he had been a bright, energetic twelve-year-old. Then the only anchor he had in the world was gone. The light of him was snuffed out with her. All that was left was fear, anger, and darkness. He delved into the deepest parts of the Underworld, communed with ghost kings, walked through Hell itself— alone. He pushed everyone away, terrified they would leave, just like Bianca had.

But when he was with Will, he didn’t feel like pushing him away anymore. The thought scared him.

 Will’s light shone through him, filling the empty spaces in him with both pain and longing. 

Someone cleared their throat loudly, way too loudly. Nico and Will flew apart, hastily wiping strawberry juice off their faces. Damon the satyr quickly coughed into his fist, “Umm, Chiron wishes to see you. I’ll…uhh…give you two a moment. He’s waiting at the big house.” Damon ducked his head down to hide a smirk before shuffling off.

My best laid plan

Nico, Will, and Damon sat at the ping pong table with Chiron, sunlight streaming through the windows of the Big House. Chiron unfurled a map of the Pacific Northwest, pressing the yellowed paper onto the ping pong table. 

“Bob contacted me. He said you were supposed to tell me, but I suppose you two got…”, his gaze flickered from their bruised lips to their strawberry coated clothes, “…distracted.”

Nico’s face flamed, prickles of heat crawling up his neck. Damon smirked and gave Nico and Will a knowing look. Will frantically pointed at the map, scrambling to change the topic, “So…the map, we just need to get to Bob’s forest, heal the dryads and whatnot, boom— quest completed. It’s pretty simple — I’ll go, heal the nature spirits, and be back for dinner.”

“No, you are not going by yourself, I’m coming with you. That was the deal.” Nico stood up and glared at Will, daring him to object.

Will leaned back in his chair, whispering harshly, “It wasn’t a deal, it was a ‘you need sunlight or you’ll bite someone’ situation.”

Nico’s eyes narrowed, his voice taking on an edge. “That was one time, and he deserved it.”

Will ran a hand through his hair, “Nico, this isn’t a shadow-hopping errand, it’s a medical crisis. I don’t need you getting hurt.”

Nico shot him a look, ice hidden under the sarcasm. “Too late. I’m already hurt— by your terrible decision-making.”

Chiron sighed, “As simple as it may seem, I would advise you, Will, to bring Nico in case of any non-diplomatic encounters. Damon will go with both of you as the third quest member and a… chaperone of sorts. The three of you will set off tomorrow morning.”

“Translation: Nico punches first, Will apologises later.” Damon muttered under his breath. 

“You’ll travel west, as all heroes must eventually. The forest you’re seeking lies beyond mortal roads — the entrance is near the Olympic Mountains. Apollo’s children should be able to sense it before they see it. The nature spirits there are ancient, bound by Chaos long before Nyx herself was banished. And these kind of nature spirits tend to be unpredictable so be careful. ”

As Chiron finished speaking, something cold coiled in Nico’s chest, an invisible fist closing around his heart. His hand instinctively went to his pocket, to the coin Will had given, running his thumb along the rubbed groves. Will noticed him tense up and reached under the table to squeeze his hand, “We’ve handled worse, you can count on us Chiron.”

Will smiled, teeth a dazzling white. Nico admired and envied how Will was always bright and confident, always bringing the light. Nico wanted to believe in light, he really wanted to. But he still couldn’t  shake the feeling that something was off. 

That night, Nico dreamed of purple eyes glinting in the darkness— a gaze that felt familiar, like something he had fought before but not quite defeated. Gasping, he sat up, sunlight bleeding through the curtain. Will turned to him, blue eyes shining with concern. Nico plastered on a fake smile and shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just a dream.” Just a dream. It was probably just nerves.

🖤

Will, Nico and Damon left before the rest of the camp stirred. After convincing the Cocoa Puffs to stay in camp with Mr. D by bribing them with KitKats, they set off to find Chiron. Will hummed under his breath, backpack of supplies slung over his shoulder. Nico gripped his sword, eyes darting into shadows that were not there. Damon wore his set of reed pipes around his neck and carried a bag full of tin cans as he strolled behind them, hooves clacking against the ground. 

Chiron was waiting to see them off, handing Will a bag of ambrosia and a canteen of nectar. “Transportation has been…arranged.”, he intoned, leading them to the camp parking lot, which consisted of an overgrown piece of concrete with an assortment of broken chariots and a couple of mortal cars enchanted to look normal. At the far end of the space, Travis and Connor Stoll were leaning against a black Chevy Suburban, attempting to look innocent. 

Travis tossed the keys to Will, who barely caught it. “You’re welcome.”

Will blinked at the keys in his palm, “You stole an SUV?”

“No, no, no. We acquired it. It’s different. “

“It was lonely,” Connor quipped, “We rescued it from a very boring parking lot in Queens.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “So you stole it from some rich person in Queens.”

“Borrowed. Indefinitely.” Travis flashed them a mischievous grin, betraying no intention of returning the car.

Nico cast a sidelong glance at the SUV like it was a ticking time bomb. “Great. A metal death trap on wheels. What could possibly go wrong?”

Travis smirked. “You worry too much, di Angelo.”

“I’m not worried,” Nico muttered, voice flat, “I’m terrified. Just call me your friendly neighborhood Grim Reaper if we die in a fiery crash somewhere in Ohio.”

Connor leaned on the hood. “Ohio? Amateur. The real fun starts in Nebraska.”

Will frowned, jingling the keys. “I just got my license, I’ve got this. Thanks for the car, guys.”

Nico grumbled under his breath. “Or we could have shadow-traveled and avoided the entire Midwest entirely…”

“You can’t shadow travel cross country, Sunshine. You’ll pass out by Indiana.” Will’s tone was patient, but Nico caught the smirk tugging at his lips.

“Then I could summon Jules-Albert.”

“Zombie chauffeur?”

“Efficient.”

“No, I’m driving.”

Nico huffed but climbed into the passenger seat without further comment, and Damon sat in the back.

Your sleight of hand

The journey started out relatively peaceful. Will sang along to songs from the radio. Damon played tunes on his reed pipes and told stories of the dryads in the redwood forests of the Olympic Mountains. Only Nico was tense, gripping his sword, dark gaze darting around.

They merged onto the I-80 somewhere past Newark, just as the sun began to dip beyond the horizon, painting the sky streaks of violet. Nico suddenly stiffened. Will ignored it and continued driving, figuring that Nico had been acting off the whole day — this wasn’t any different.

The air felt wrong, shadows stretching too far beneath the cars ahead. The radio hissed with static. Will tried to adjust the dial, but the static only grew louder— like whispering.

“Tell me that’s just  you doing the creepy-shadow thing,” Will muttered, eyes still on the road.

“It’s not me,” Nico said tightly. “Something’s following us.”

And then Will saw it. From the rear view mirror, the headlights of the car behind them blurred, taking on humanoid shapes of …

“Phoboi,” Nico hissed. “Spirits of fear.”

“Of course it’s fear demons,” Will groaned, slamming on the brakes as one lunged at the windshield. The SUV spun and burst through the guardrail. They landed on a side street — right into downtown Philadelphia. Pedestrians scattered, shouting.

“Nice driving, Solace,” Nico deadpanned, gripping the door handle. “I think you missed a pedestrian.”

“Shut up,” Will snapped, swerving onto a dirt road framed by tall trees. 

You won’t be able to help him escape his fears. Will glanced up at four figures standing in his path. Without thinking, he revved the engine and slammed directly into them. The phoboi burst into translucent dust, and seeped into the air, filling it with whispers. 

You won’t be able to save everyone.

You are too optimistic, one day he will walk away from you.

You will be consumed by darkness.

Will gritted his teeth, pushing those voices out of his head. 

“Uh guys…” Damon squeaked, turning around.

Something thumped unto the roof of the car.

“Please tell me that’s a squirrel.”

The metal groaned.

“That’s a very heavy squirrel.” Nico looked up, knuckles white around the hilt of his sword.

“Get out of the car,” Damon yelled, tossing Will his bow from the backseat, “Now!”

They flung open the doors and threw themselves out just as the car exploded into a spray of rust and black dust. From the wreckage, three humanoid figures stepped out. Green veins pulsed under their yellowed skin, their milky, fever bright eyes flickering around. Their limbs were wrong— too long and bent in the wrong directions. Black ichor dripped from their mouths, filling the air with the smell of copper and disease. As they moved, their footsteps left decay in their path, staining the earth. They gripped weapons, hands patchy and knuckles swollen, swinging pieces of rusted metal and splintered wood.

“Nosoi,” Nico cursed, “Spirits of disease.”

“Three of them, three of us.” Will nocked an arrow with shaking hands. Damon brandished his wooden cudgel and Nico drew his sword, Stygian iron gleaming in the moonlight. They met the nosoi as they lurched forward, spilling black smoke into the air. 

Damon swung his cudgel, vines around him snapping at the nosoi— half fear, half reflex. Will loosed arrow after arrow, each shot punching through smoke and stench, movements shaky but precise. The nosoi glided forward, skin blistered and translucent, filling the air with the stench of decay that left him dizzy and disoriented. From the corner of his eye, he could see Nico fighting the nosoi with the piece of rusted metal, parrying its strikes with his Stygian iron sword— sharp, beautiful deadly. But something was wrong, Nico’s movements were too tense, his eyes wild, shadows coiling around him too thickly. Damon broke his cudgel over the head of the nosoi and cursed, switching to play a frantic tune on his reed pipes.

Will felt himself start glowing, calling upon the power of Apollo. He heard a rasping breath behind him, smelled the stench of decay. Spinning around, he reached for the knife at his belt, light flaring around his hand, glinting off the the celestial bronze. It all happened so fast— the shadow of the nosoi looming over him, gaunt face twisted into a sickening grin, Nico screaming his name, sword cutting through the air, too close, too fast. The nosoi twisted aside, claws slashing blindly. Then Nico was on his knees, clutching his side, blood seeping through his clothes. Will screamed, the sound ripped out of him, releasing his fear, his rage. In a flash of light, the nosoi were gone, reduced to piles of desiccated flesh. But Nico was lying on the ground, blood staining the grass beneath him vermilion in the moonlight.

“Why?” Will dropped to his knees in the grass next to him, half yelling, half sobbing, “Why would you…”

“I thought.. You… Protect…”

Then hit him it. The realisation hurt more than any injury. Nico thought he needed protection, that he need to be saved, and it almost cost him his life.

My barren land

Everything hurt. Nico’s entire left side felt like it was on fire, and he could still hear the whispers of the phoboi, as well as Will crying. At least Nico thought he was. Through his red haze of pain, he could see Will, bent over him, blue eyes brimming with unshed tears as his hands glowed, channeling the power of Apollo. He winced as Will lifted the edge of his blood soaked shirt

“I’m all for you taking off my clothes, Solace, but— ow!”

Will roughly yanked back the bloodstained fabric, peering at the wound. Nico felt the sting of air on his wound, followed by  Will muttering something about infection and asking Damon to pass him the canteen of nectar and his medical kit. Nico grimaced as Will poured nectar over the wound, biting his lip to keep from crying out. Will put down the canteen as his hands started to glow, light trembling. Nico watched it flicker, thinking about how even sunlight can shake. “Stay with me,” Will murmured, voice cracking, panic barely controlled, “This is going to hurt.” The son of Apollo picked up a needle and pressed it into his skin. 

Nico tried to make a joke again, but his mouth went dry when he looked up at Will. He noticed the glint of metal at Will’s collarbone- his ring, looped onto a chain, silver glinting faintly in the moonlight, rising and falling with each uneven breath Will took. Will was crying, silent tears streaming down his face. Tears clung to his lashes, catching the moonlight like shards of glass. One slipped down his face, tracing the curve of his jaw before landing on Nico’s skin. His shoulders shook, barely, as he worked, muttering something under his breath that sounded like a prayer. Nico hissed in pain as Will tied off the thread, pulling the wound shut, and pressed his glowing hands to his skin. 

Slowly, the pain dulled, a warm sensation spreading from the wound outwards. Nico laid there, moonlight spilling into the clearing like water unto a wound. It touched the blood on his shirt, turning it silver instead of red. Will shoved a piece of ambrosia between his chapped lips and sat aside, staring into the obsidian sky. Nico chewed on the ambrosia, guilt inside him curling like smoke. I thought he needed me. The earth beneath him was cold, grounding and cruelly real. Nico tried to sit up and cried out in pain. Will snapped around. “What are you doing? Lie back down now.” Nico ignored him and continued trying to sit up, gritting his teeth through the pain. 

“Damon, put this idiot to sleep before he tears his stitches.” Will scooped him up as Damon brought his reed pipes to his lips. “Sleep now. We’ll be there by the time you wake up.” The music started, soft and strange, but Nico found he couldn’t  fight it. Nico’s eyelids grew heavy, his muscles slackening despite his struggles. He had no choice but to let sleep take him, and he let his head rest against Will’s chest, listening to his heartbeat sync with his, steady and real in the midst of everything.

🖤

Nico dreamed of purple eyes again,  twilight bruises that watched him with the stillness of something immortal— cold, deliberate, almost curious. 

“Who are you?” Nico’s question echoed into the black nothingness. The eyes blinked and the shadows moved, as if they were pulled towards the thing in the dark, swirling and forming a humanoid shape. The shape solidified, edges sharpening into a woman draped in shadows. Gold light flickered between her fingers— a glint, a promise, a threat. The purple light of her eyes pulsed with something cruel and amused, like a heartbeat that should not exist. She raised a hand, and from the shadows bloomed a golden apple, its surface slick and gleaming as though it had been dipped in ichor. 

“I am your darkest moment,” her lips were a violent crimson, the colour of spilled blood, and they moved in a way that was almost hypnotic, “The monster that always draws near.”

Her beauty was not human— it was symmetry turned sour, perfection stretched too far. Her face looked like it was carved from starlight and cruelty, her dark hair fell against pale skin, like ink from a broken quill spilling across parchment. She stepped forward, beautiful in the way dying stars were, bright and collapsing all at once. The folds of her gown shimmered between black and gold, discord made visible. She smiled, lovely in the way broken glass caught the light, and for a heartbeat the apple in her hand looked like a heart— one she meant to break. She stepped forward, shadows whispering around her, and bit into the apple. Her purple eyes flared a blinding amethyst light, and Nico woke up to the taste of gold and smoke on his tongue. 

I am ash from your fire

Dawn was breaking through the trees. Pale morning light dripped through the branches, faint birdsong rang in the air, the grove ahead looked wrong— grey-veined trees, air thick with rot. 

Will heard a rustling next to him and turned. Nico sat up and blinked. “You got Damon to put me to sleep.” His voice was rough, accusing, not a question. 

“You needed it.”

“My sun and my star! You are finally here!” Will and Nico spun around. Bob was supporting a dryad. His lips were chapped and oozing sap, his naturally green skin a pale sickly yellow. “Will, can you heal him?”

Will helped the dryad into a sitting position next to him. “Of course, Bob.”

“The healing ointment, in the hollow, Bob will go get it.” Bob gently set the dryad down and lumbered off into the forest. 

“You didn’t need to put me to sleep.”

“You didn’t need to get yourself injured!” Will snapped, placing his glowing hands on the dryad. 

“I was trying to save you.” Nico responded bluntly. 

“I don’t need saving!”

“Then maybe you don’t need me at all.” The words, brittle and angry, hit harder than any monster could. Nico stood up and stormed off, leaves crunching as he stalked away into the forest. 

Will stood frozen for a moment, wanting to call out but the words caught in his throat. Nico’s footsteps echoed through the grove, and the entire forest seemed to be holding its breath. Damon shifted awkwardly, “I’ll go make sure he doesn’t get eaten.” He scrambled off, leaving Will alone with the dryad. He sighed, anger and guilt simmering under his skin. He turned his attention to the dryad, who was shivering and mumbling under his breath, eyes glassy and unfocused. 

Will knelt down next to him, hands glowing faintly gold. The grove was quiet except for the rustling of sick leaves, like the trembling of fevered skin. Guilt gnawed at him, Nico’s words eating him up inside. Maybe you don’t need me at all. He tried to lose himself in work— light, precision, healing, but every flare of gold light reminded him of Nico’s shadow. 

He healed nature spirit after nature spirit, hoping that doing something good would help him shake the cloying guilt. The disease felt wrong, unnatural. It fought back. The sickness coiled beneath bark, like smoke trapped under glass. His light seeped in, but something in the dryads recoiled, as if it was alive— aware. 

By the time the sun began to bleed into the tree line, Will’s hands were shaking. He had healed dryads, satyrs and nymphs with symptoms ranging from coughing and stuttering to violent rages and amnesia. A female dryad stumbled towards him, eyes clouded with fever, sap glistening like tears on her skin. Will knelt close, hands glowing, trying to pour sunlight into her fading form. The dryad stirred, voice a cracked whisper calling out a name that wasn’t his, “You came back.” 

Will hesitated, golden light flickering uncertainly. “I’m… here to help.” She lifted a hand to his face, trembling against his cheek, smearing dirt and sap on his skin. Before he could react, she leaned forward, desperate and disoriented, and pressed her mouth to his. 

Will staggered back, heart hammering, mind scrambling with confusion. The taste of rot and honey lingered on his lips like the bitter aftertaste of poison. He blinked, pulling away and his gaze landed on the figure standing at the edge of the clearing.  Nico stood there— eyes wide, heartbreak and fury entwined, betrayal carved into his face like cracks in marble. Something shattered in the space between them. Nico spun around and fled, footsteps echoing into the forest, drowning out the sound of Will’s voice. 

Stood on the cliffside screaming, "Give me a reason"

Nico ran. The image of the dryad’s hands on Will’s face burned into his mind, betrayal searing through his heart. He sprinted through the forest, branches whipping at his face and tearing at his clothes. Voices slithered through the trees, venomous and familiar, shaped like his own thoughts. He doesn't love you. He never did. You’re just another shadow for him to fix. The words crawled under his skin, growing claws and dragging him towards the edge— pale stone above water, the world dissolving to silence below. 

The voices rose with the wind. Jump, they hissed, He’s already gone. There’s nothing left for you here.  He stumbled forward, shadows around him thickening with every step. He took a step forward, then another. Mist curled around his ankles, soft and cold. The wind pressed against his back like a promise. The sea called his name, soft as a lullaby. The world seemed to tilt, narrowing down to him, the sea, the ledge. His shadow tipped forward before he did as he leaned into the sky’s embrace. 

A voice cracked through his storm of emotions. “Nico,” Not a whisper. A plea, broken and desperate. Fingers closed around his wrist before the wind could. Nico turned. Will stood there, chest heaving, sapphire eyes wide with fear and something that looked like heartbreak. His fingers trembled around Nico’s wrist but he didn’t let go. Nico didn’t move. For a heartbeat, they stared at each other— the storm between them silent, waiting.  

Nico’s voice tore through the silence, hoarse and trembling, “Was it that easy to replace me?” The words came out sharper than he meant, a knife thrown, carried by the wind and the ache in his chest. He saw Will flinch as the barb hit true. And then, as Will moved closer, something silver glinted from beneath his collar. Nico recognised it instantly— the ring he had given him what seemed like ages ago. 

Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in

Will swallowed hard, words burning through his throat, “It’s not what you think.”

Nico looked up, dark eyes unreadable. 

“It’s the disease, it causes them to lose memories. She was confused, I didn’t mean… I would never.” The words tripped over each other, catching in his throat, desperation clawing at him. “I don’t care if you hate me, just— please, don’t do that again.”

“You think I’d choose anyone else? After everything?” Will’s voice cracked, breaking like a promise, whispered then forgotten. He hated it, hated how easily Nico’s doubt could undo him, hated how their love felt like something both fragile and cursed. Nico’s ring pressed against his sternum like a promise he was unsure if he could keep, metal chain cold against his skin. 

The forest went silent, even the wind had gone quiet, like it was waiting for something. His words hung in the air between them, like glass waiting to be broken. Nico didn’t speak. His breathing was uneven, his gaze impassive. He took a step back, then forward again, as if torn between leaving and staying. His jaw tightened, hands clenching and unclenching like he had something to say but couldn’t . 

Will didn’t see him move. One second they were standing apart, the next Nico’s hands were on him, rough and trembling. Nico’s mouth met his with the force of all his pent up emotions, splitting Will’s lip against his teeth as the world narrowed to heat and breath and desperation. He tasted like iron and salt and all the words they had left unspoken. 

Will wrapped his arms around him, curling his fingers in Nico’s hair, pulling him closer, away from the edge, away from the world that kept trying to break them apart.

Don’t want no other shade of blue but you

The storm in Nico broke against Will’s mouth. He tasted like sunlight and tragedy, pain and longing. It was too much and yet never enough, and it was everything that Nico wanted. 

Nico raked his teeth against Will’s bottom lip, tasting the copper tang of blood and the fading warmth of sunshine. Will gasped, and Nico swallowed the sound, clinging to it like an anchor to the world he had almost left behind. His hands trembled where they gripped Will’s shirt, pulling him closer and closer, until the air between them burned with the sweet poison of sadness. He could feel Will’s pulse under his fingers, feel him there, real and breakable. 

“Mine,” he murmured against his mouth, voice raw and trembling. Not a command. A confession. Will sighed on his lips and all of Nico’s fury collapsed into grief which melted onto his tongue. 

The world dimmed around them, moonlit edges softening until there was only Will— the fragile blue of his eyes, the only colour that mattered. Their lips parted, breath catching in the quiet between them. The air still tasted like salt and sorrow. The world felt quieter somehow— too fragile to touch, too heavy to hold. 

No other sadness in the world would do

Will’s breath trembled against Nico’s lips, tasting like the salt of tears and something that felt too close to the shadow of a goodbye. The air between them was still charged, pain and want braided together until it was impossible to tell them apart. Nico’s hand lingered on his chest, over the frantic beat of his heart, as if he could hold it still. Will exhaled, the sound shattering the quiet around them. The forest around them seemed to sigh, releasing the tension from its stillness . 

The ache in his chest was not sharp anymore, it was soft and familiar, like a painful memory that refused to fade. There was no joy, no anger— just the kind of sadness that felt almost holy. 

They walked back to the grove in silence, steps slow, breaths syncing again. Nico’s fingers brushed his, and he took his hand, holding on to it like it was a lifeline, the only thing keeping him grounded. 

Maybe it was.

Moonlight sifted through the leaves, painting the clearing silver as Will and Nico found a spot by the dying fire and settled down on the moss. Nico leaned against him, head fitting perfectly into the crook between his shoulder and his neck. Will closed his eyes to the steady rhythm of Nico’s breathing. The warmth between them was quiet and unspoken, but it was enough. Will drifted off, and the last thing he felt was Nico’s hand tightening around his. 

🖤

Will stood in the middle of Camp Half-Blood, sunlight settling around him like honey poured over the world, slow and unreal. The air shimmered with late-afternoon gold, soft and warm against his skin. The cabins glowed in the gentle light, edges softening as if he was seeing them through water. Suddenly, the shadows deepened, scattering and swirling into a dark mass in the middle of the cabins. From somewhere within the dark mass, a woman stepped out. 

Her midnight hair fell against pale skin like a shadow draped across starlit marble. Her eyes were purple, violet burning too bright, too sharp to belong to anything mortal. She wore a gown made of shifting shadows, black silk woven with gold fractures. The air around her hummed with a quiet malevolence, like a perfect chord struck wrong— almost imperceptibly so. In her hand, a golden apple gleamed, warm as sunshine and cruel as a prophecy. Will stepped forward, drawn to its unnatural light. 

Her gaze flitted to him, amethyst stare pinning him as easily as a shadow pinned light. Will swallowed, throat tightening. “Who are you?” 

She tilted her head, recognition flickering— not of Will, but of the question. “I am your quietest doubt,” her voice flowed over him like silk against his skin, “The slip of chaos beneath every light you shine.” She paused, the golden apple pulsing in her hand. “Though others call me Eris, born of Nyx.”

Will stiffened at the name. Eris smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Ah, so the Son of Apollo remembers the night. Careful bright one— some shadows are older than the sun. Mother remembers, she remembers those who struck her halls. Tartarus holds grudges older than the stars. You wounded my mother by walking away with what belongs to her.”

“Bob?” His voice was soft, tentative and confused. 

Eris sneered, distaste rippling across her beautiful features. “Mother remembers those who deny their nature, who turn from their legacy. He walks away from what he was meant to be—Iapetus. Where he hides, where he nurtures life, I see the defiance. The grove calls to me; it reeks of rebellion against the night.”

Will shivered at the mention of their trip to Tartarus, stomach twisting.

“So I seeded it with my mother’s wrath,” she mused, lifting the golden apple and studying her reflection on its pristine surface. “A small discord in the quiet green— just enough for the rot to whisper.”

Will’s breath caught. The image of the withering dryads was still burned into his mind. “You… you cursed it?” he whispered, horrified.

Eris’s smile sharpened, flashing perfect teeth, white as polished bone, as if she was delighted by his dread.

“You touch the broken,” she continued, voice sweet and venomous, “and the darkness follows your hand. The healer drinks the poison meant for others. The shadow sleeps… until it wakes in you. What you mend in them, you carry within. Light cannot save what it binds to itself.”

Realisation of what she was insinuating dawned on him and he forced a laugh, thin and unsteady. “I’m not cursed. I’m not.”

Eris only sighed, the sound almost pitying.“Bright one… light rarely sees its own dimming.”

Her voice softened, if not for the malicious gleam in her eyes, Will would have mistaken her tone for comforting “You touched what was withering. You poured yourself into wounds that were never meant to close. And in healing them…” She lifted her hand, hovering over his heart. Nico’s ring burned ice cold against his skin. “…you drew the curse into your own veins. Darkness follows the hand that mends.”

Will swallowed hard, throat tight. “No. I don’t get sick, I’m a healer. I- I would’ve felt something.”

“A healer feels last,” Eris murmured. “The hurt hides, quiet and patient, until the moment it remembers itself.”

She stepped closer, her expression bordering between sympathy and contempt. 

“Do not speak of this yet. Not to the son of Hades. Not to those who shine for you. Let the shadow sleep a little longer. Some truths wake… hungrily… when named.”

Will looked down at his trembling hands, pulse hammering.

Eris studied him for a long, unreadable moment. Then her voice shifted— still soft, but woven with something that sounded like regret.

“I like your faith,” she whispered. “Little healer… I wish it didn’t have to be you.”

Before he could react, she lifted the golden apple and placed it in his palm with a terrifying gentleness.

“Carry this,” she breathed. “And carry the silence with it.”

Eris closed Will’s fingers over the fruit with an unsettling tenderness and the dream dissolved into golden light. 

You know I left a part of me back in New York

Will woke up with a gasp, heart thumping unsteadily against his ribcage as he sat up. The weight of the apple was still pressed into his palm like a warning. He turned toward the rustle of movement. Nico was already awake, sitting cross legged, absently picking at the seeds of a pomegranate as he studied Will with half-disguised concern. 

Will leaned forward and cupped his face with shaking hands, half expecting him to flinch away, memorising his striking features— the dark hair, guarded eyes, the boy who had walked through Hell with him. The boy he might not get to spend another sunrise with. It isn’t  true. She was just trying to scare me. It’s nothing.  

Still, as Nico’s eyes softened under the rosy morning light, Will leaned down and pressed his lips to his. The kiss held the ghost of a farewell, light as breath. Nico startled for a moment but kissed him back, melting into his mouth. Nico pulled back, tawny eyes flickering with apprehension. “Definitely had bad dreams.”

Will brushed a strand of ebony hair from Nico’s face, holding him close for a moment longer. He stood up, swaying on his feet for a heartbeat before righting himself against a tree. “Let’s… go home, back to camp.” Will rose unsteadily, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off his clothes as he stumbled out of the clearing, pausing for a second to make sure Nico followed. 

Nico fell in step behind him, fiddling with the bronze coin Will had given him and Will could feel his dark gaze on him even as he turned away. They slowed at the edge of the grove. Bob stood there, clutching his broom and beaming. “Bob is grateful for your help with the dryads. The grove is better already. Goodbye and take good care of each other.”

Beside the titan, Damon lounged against a tree. “Yeah… I’m gonna stick around. The trees like me, can’t say the same about demigods.”

Will nodded uncertainly and Nico rolled his eyes, “Sure, definitely nothing to do with the redwood dryad you were hitting on the other day.”

Damon shot him a glare. “See you Di Angelo. Take care of him Will. Make sure he doesn’t kill himself.” A joke, but it hit too close to the truth. Nico flinched, running his fingers along the coin one last time before shoving it into his back pocket. Will offered Damon a hollow smile before leading Nico out of the grove. 

Nico took his hand, shadows gathering around them. Will tried to protest but all he could manage was: “Not too far. Please.” Nico nodded but didn’t meet his gaze. Then the darkness closed in on them. 

The voices around him screamed at him to let go, wisps of cold air whipped around him like icy fingers clawing at him. The darkness pressed against him, squeezing the air from his lungs. Something felt wrong. Will couldn’t feel Nico’s hand in his, they weren’t moving through darkness— it felt like the shadows were trying to pull him apart, unravel him like threads of a tapestry. Will tried to suck in a breath, but it felt like inhaling glass shards. Panic rose like bile in his throat. This was wrong— shadow travelling had never felt this way before. 

Then, as quickly as it had happened, the darkness spat them out, sending them tumbling unto unforgiving asphalt. Will lay there for a while, pain lancing through him as he shivered on the pavement. 

“Will? Will! Are you okay?” Nico’s voice was threaded with concern and barely concealed guilt. Will forced himself up and coughed. “I’m okay,” he lied, “that… was too far… please don’t, just walk next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.” His voice was guilt dipped in forced confidence. He helped Will stand up then dug out a golden drachma from his jacket pocket. Will instantly realised what he was going to do. 

“No… no, no, no! Not them! Please, oh my gods.”

Nico smirked. “They’re not that bad.”

“They’re horrible. Can we please just rest a moment then walk or something?”

“They’ll be fine. I’ll tip them extra.” Nico flung the coin onto the road. “Stêthi, Ô hárma diabolês!” Stop, Chariot of Damnation!

The drachma sank into the road and disappeared. Then, where the coin had fallen, the asphalt darkened, melting into a rectangle of bubbling red liquid that looked disturbingly like blood. A smoking taxi shot upwards, landing on the road and skidding to a stop just inches away from Will. He recoiled, shifting himself to behind Nico. The window rolled down, and an old lady stuck her head out. 

“Oh great. It’s the gloomy one. The son of Hades. And he brought the shiny one.”

A second head popped out of the window. “Ugh, he looks like spoiled milk. Why is he dying? We haven’t even started the meter yet.”

“I’m not dying.” His voice was hoarse and unsteady. Nico opened the back door like this was normal. Will hesitated until one of them snapped, “Hurry up, you're ruining our average response time!” Will sighed and climbed into the taxi.

“Camp Half-Blood please.” Nico climbed in after him. 

“Long Island! Out-of-metro fare bonus! Ha!” The lady at the wheel cackled as she floored the accelerator. Will stifled a scream as the car shot forward. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in Nico’s lap, clutching fistfuls of his jacket like it could keep him safe. “Tell me when we stop moving.” 

“Sweetheart,” One of the old ladies crooned, “if we stop moving that means we’ve crashed.” Will whimpered and tucked himself tighter into Nico. 

“You’re okay.” Nico whispered, stroking his hair once before leaning over to hold on to the car handle as they took a sharp swerve. “Probably.”

“I hate you all,” Will mumbled into Nico’s jeans, “Even you, Nico, until the ride is over.” Nico snickered and ran his hands through Will’s hair. “Fair.”

Suddenly, Nico tensed up. “Why are you turning? There’s no—“ The taxi lurched forward with a splash. 

Will sat up and peeled his eyes open. “Why are we in a lake?”

“Faster this way, honey.” The old lady at the wheel crowed. Will sighed and buried his face in Nico’s shoulder. He didn’t lift his head again. He rode out the rest of the journey with his eyes shut tight, face pressed against Nico’s jacket. The taxi screeched, spun, and at one point briefly defied gravity.

Then, as abruptly as the ride had begun it slammed to a halt. The door popped open before the taxi even stopped and Will stumbled out. Nico climbed out after him, lips twitching with the ghost of a smile. “Well, that was… interesting.” He turned back to the taxi, which had already began to sink into the ground and tossed a handful of golden drachmas at the sisters. 

“Never again.” Will staggered over, a cough rattling his lungs. “I…” Another cough. Nico hooked an arm around his waist and peered at him, dark eyes clouded with unease. “Hey, you okay Night Light?”

“Don’t… call me that.” He coughed again, this time tasting blood. Will glanced down at his hands, veins grey beneath skin paler than it should have been. He shivered, suddenly realising how cold he was. “I’m fine. Just… tired. Need sleep.”

Nico didn’t look convinced. He shifted his grip, guiding Will up the hill towards the cabins. “Come on,” he murmured, voice low, “we’re almost at your cabin.” Will nodded weakly, leaning on him more than he meant to. Their footsteps crunched softly on the gravel path, trees blurring at the edge of his vision. 

“Nico…” Will mumbled, “ If anything happens… my journal, under my bunk… the one with the burnt cover.” Nico frowned at him. “You definitely need some sleep.” He led him to the Apollo cabin, practically shoving him through the door. Will lurched forward and flopped onto his bed, passing out instantly. 

🖤

Will drifted in and out of consciousness for days, waking to different versions of Nico each time. Sometimes, Nico sat by his bedside, offering him sips of nectar with measured patience, hands surprisingly steady as he held the glass to Will’s lips. The Cocoa Puffs sat at his feet, eyes glowing with curiosity. Sometimes, Will woke to Nico curled around him, like he was protecting something fragile he was afraid to let go of and Will’s face was damp with tears that were not his own. Another time he found Nico pacing around the room, pretending to be sorting supplies, eyes flicking back to him every few seconds. 

One morning, Will came to Nico solemnly holding a spoon under his nose. When Will opened his eyes, Nico jerked the spoon away and froze. “Are you checking if I’m fogging a mirror…?” He rasped. 

Nico reddened and put the spoon away. One of the Cocoa Puffs screeched up at him. I told you so. 

“You’re so old. Thanks grandpa.” Will laughed, the action sending pain rippling through his lungs. Nico helped him lie back down, and something achingly familiar fluttered in Will’s chest— he was pretty sure it was hope.

That night, Will woke to Nico snoring softly beside him. The sight filled him with a sense of peace, lessening the pain in his chest. He forced himself up and dug out his journal, pressing a pen to the worn pages and writing down his thoughts. Writing down the words he couldn’t say felt like letting go of a burden, and the pain eased, fading to a dull echo— still there, but muted enough for him to pretend it wasn’t. Allowing the words to settle on the page, he shut the journal and shoved it under his bed.

That morning, Will woke feeling lighter than he had in days. He managed to stand up without Nico’s help and even ate an entire granola bar— small victories, but they felt like the first steps toward something better. Maybe Eris was wrong. Maybe she was just trying to scare me. 

He dragged Nico out of bed before noon, bringing him to take a walk in the forest, to the clearing where Nico had first asked him out. As they walked slowly along the tree line, Nico muttered under his breath, “Camp looks like it’s waiting for something to go wrong.”

Will glanced at him, smiling faintly.“Or maybe it’s waiting for something to go right. You don’t have to see it yet… but things will get better. They have to. Otherwise none of this means anything.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nico’s temple. “Just… remember that I love you.”

You knew the hero died, so what's the movie for?

Will Solace lived for two more days after saying that. 

Nico didn’t cry. He didn’t scream or fall to his knees. He just… stopped. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Not when a Cocoa Puff crept forward and nuzzled his hand, not when the sun rose, not even when they came in, placed a white sheet over Will and took him out. Nico let himself be led to the Big House, movements emotionless and mechanical. 

He sat in the armchair and waited. He waited for Will to walk through the door, come over and kiss him, telling him about his day in the infirmary. He would pick up one of the Cocoa Puffs, give it a scratch, then feed them a KitKat bar. Nico knew that Will would walk through that door, so he waited. 

But he didn’t return. Long after the sun had dipped beneath the horizon, Nico still sat there and waited. 

You knew the password, so I let you in the door

He remembered the first time he spoke about the darkness without flinching. He hadn’t meant to. He expected Will to be scared of him, to run from him, but he had just… looked at him. Like he already knew. Nico remembered how he let Will in, past the walls he had built up over those years of loneliness. How he shared his thoughts, his fears, his pain, his dreams. How he could talk to him without fear of judgement. How talking to Will— letting him in, felt right. Felt safe

And now he was gone. Just… gone. 

You knew you won, so what's the point of keeping score?

Will Solace is dead. The words lodged in Nico’s chest like fragments of broken glass. 

The sun to his star. The light to his darkness. Gone.

He stood up so fast the chair tipped over and crashed. Nico barely heard it over the pounding in his head and the blood roaring in his ears. 

“What was the point?” His voice came out hoarse, raw. “I did everything. I tried. I let myself believe— ”

A Cocoa Puff tentatively crept forward and chirped at him, brushing against his leg. Shards of memories raced through his mind— Bianca, Jason Grace, Leo Valdez. He jerked his leg back, almost kicking it away.  

“Don’t,” Nico hissed. His fist hit the wall before he knew what he was doing. Nico looked down at his hand, relishing the pain that spiked through it as he stared at the blood trickling from his knuckles with a dazed numbness. The Cocoa Puffs shrank back, retreating into the shadows. 

He drew his arm back for another punch when someone placed an arm on his shoulder. He turned and came face to face with Kayla Knowles, daughter of Apollo. And Will’s half sister. She looked at him pleadingly, eyes red and puffy from crying. “Nico, please. He wouldn’t want— ”

“Don’t tell me what he’d want! He’s gone, he— ” His voice cracked and he stormed out of the Big House, nearly ripping the door off its hinges. 

Nico ran. He fled into the woods, away from camp, away from people, away from everything the reminders of him that were  too painful to look at. 

“Why?” He screamed into the night sky. “After everything I’ve lost, why did it have to be him?”

“I hate you!” he spat— unsure who it was for. The Fates. The gods who did nothing. Maybe even Will.

Eventually, he stumbled back to his cabin, the room still carrying Will’s scent. He lay down and drifted into sleep before he realized he was shaking.

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart

Nico stood at Nyx’s doorstep, the insects that made up the foundation of the house buzzed, the sound ringing in his ears. Suddenly, they snapped up and swarmed towards him. Nico backed away and squeezed his eyes shut. 

When he opened them, he found himself back in the bronze jar. Three gashes were scored into the wall and three eaten pomegranate seeds lay at his feet. The air thinned, and the walls started closing in on him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. He squeezed his eyes tight and-

Found himself outside the Apollo cabin. Will paced back and forth, “Nico, I know what he meant to you but you have to calm down you can't just— ”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do. Jason’s dead, Will. Jason Grace.” 

Will paused, then leaned down to kiss him. 

But what you did was just as dark

But before their lips could touch, the scene faded into an empty clearing. The memories throbbed against his thoughts like scars that never really healed. Nico remembered the fear, the hopelessness, the pain. How Will managed to help piece him back after all that. How Will was the only one that could make things stop hurting. How Will made him feel like everything was going to be okay.

But now he was gone.  

“Please…” His voice cracked through the silence. “I’ll do anything. Just… bring him back.”

Then he knelt on the cold ground and pleaded with the Fates, the gods, the universe until his lips were chapped and his tongue was too dry to go on.

He would do anything. 

He would give any happiness he had ever earned, if only Will would live. 

He would surrender his powers, his name, his place in this world, if only Will would live. 

He would give himself over to Nyx, let the darkness take him whole, swallow him and never resurface— if only Will would live. 

“Take anything,” He whispered into the void, “Take me. Just let him live. Please.”

No one answered. 

🖤

Until a voice did. 

The woman with purple eyes from his dreams stepped through the silence, beautiful and deadly. The golden apple in her palm shimmered— more like a reminder than a warning. 

“You would tear yourself apart for someone who would never ask that of you,” she murmured.

“I don’t care.”

“You do,” she said softly. “Or you wouldn’t still be here.”

She extended the apple toward him.

“He believed there was something worth staying for,” she continued. “Let go. Not of him— but of the hurt that keeps you from what he died believing in.”

His hands shook as he reached out for the apple. 

The dream dissolved as soon as his fingers closed over the golden fruit. 

Darling, this was just as hard

Nico woke up gasping. The apple in his hand pulsed, and it seemed to be dragging him down, as if drawn to something. He let the apple pull him towards a dusty box under the bed. 

Nico opened the box and pulled out a journal. It was a faded golden tone, with a sun design embossed on the cover, one of the corners slightly charred. He flipped it open to the first page, and the first thing he saw was the shape of his name written in Will’s handwriting. It was on every page. Will had written down every single good memory, every thought, fear, dream Nico had shared with him. On the last page, the writing was reduced to a shaky scrawl. 

Nico, if you’re reading this, it means I’m probably not here anymore. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. The truth is, the grove was actually cursed. I wont tell you by who because I don't want you to let that anger eat you up inside and let you waste your life chasing vengeance. Just that when I healed the dryads, I drew the curse into myself. I’m also writing this as a reminder in case I ever lose myself like that dryad did. I hope you know that I will always be here with you even if you can’t see me. Just remember that I love you. 

Then the tears finally came. He choked on them, drowned in them. One fell and splattered on the paper. The Cocoa Puffs huddled around him, chittering comfortingly. 

As when they pulled me apart

Nico traced the edge of the tear inside him like someone learning a new scar. The pain hadn’t lessened— it had simply settled. 

My only one

He read through the journal again and again, replaying every memory in his head. He remembered sunlight on golden hair. A laugh too bright for someone who’d seen so much darkness. The way he looked over his shoulder and smiled at Nico. The time he kissed him just to get him to stop talking about Mythomagic. 

My kingdom come undone

Camp felt emptier without Will. The infirmary wasn’t as lively, the Apollo cabin was quieter. Nico didn’t have nightmares anymore but every time he woke up alone he reached for someone who wasn’t there. 

Humans had always worshipped something. Gods, monsters, myths they barely understood. He’d seen it firsthand— temples, offerings, entire lives built around beings that couldn’t care less about their existence. Nico never thought he was like that. The Olympians were merely powerful beings that had to be respected, not worshipped. This world was too cruel to put your faith in a deity you didn’t know existed. Then there was Will. My God, my Universe. Dead. Gone.

My broken drum

Nico remembered the exact moment Will’s heart had stopped beating. He woke up the moment it happened and sat in silence. That heartbeat that he fell asleep to, that he listened to when he wanted to calm himself down— gone. He had instinctively tried to summon his spirit but couldn’t. And so he had waited for him to wake up. 

You have beaten my heart

And when he didn’t, the silence that followed— Nico knew that was the sound of his own heart breaking. 

Don't want no other shade of blue but you

The sky was blue today. The same gentle blue of Will’s eyes. Nico sat in the clearing, journal on his lap and Cocoa Puffs huddled around him. 

No other sadness in the world would do

Nico wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he felt his presence, the warmth he felt whenever Will was around. 

“If this is the price of loving you,” he whispered, letting the wind carry his words wherever they needed to go.

 “I’d pay it time and time again.”