May I first say congratulations to all you who shipped Soldangelo before it was canon. I don't know why I didn't see this coming. And yes, I spelled their ship name wrong, because when I say it out loud I always accidentally slip a D in there.

I have a headcannon where Will (so cute!) has been crushing on Nico since way before Nico even knew he existed. This fic embodies that.

When I write this ship, I will probably make Nico a little mean. I think that Will might be good at being friends, but his version of expressing romantic feelings is to grab someone's hands and tell them he just delivered a half goat baby. Nico's going to have to step up at some point. And just because Will is two years older and is passionate about making sure Nico's okay does not mean he is in charge of the relationship. Nico is no one's shota.

I've been working on this since BoO came out, and it's finally done! The first chapter, anyway. There will be at least two more. This one is Will's POV for the three main times he saw Nico before they officially met, and then what happened in those awesome little gay ship scenes Uncle Rick slipped in there for us, and then a little after that. The next chapter is the three days in the infirmary, and the one after that is what happened next in my own little non-canon world.

Uncle Rick needs to do another thing like the Demigod Diaries and give us some flashforwards. There were a a serious lack of percabeth scenes! Although the ones that were there were just too wonderful.I mean, DID YOU SEE WHAT PERCY DID WITH THAT KISS RIGHT WHERE THEIR PARENTS STARTED FIGHTING!? Gods percabeth is too PERFECT.

Jason has glasses and the title pontificus maximus. He is slightly less stupid.

The friendship between all the girls is so wonderful! Piper and Annabeth especially.

The bromance between Reyna and Nico very nearly killed me it was so beautiful. Nico has way too many big brothers and sisters. Poor Will. I mean, did you see that high five!? Quite possibly my favorite part in the whole book.

This was beta'd by the wonderful and amazing AbbieDabbie. To the hours of fangirling. Cheers, darling!

I don't own anything! But how I wish I did.

First time

Unfortunately for almost everyone involved, the first time Will Solace laid eyes on Nico di Angelo, he was about to shoot a dracaenae in the head.

It was during the first real battle Camp Half-Blood had seen in a long time; an invasion through the Labyrinth, courtesy of Lord Cuckoo Head of Time himself, Kronos. Every demigod over thirteen was in armor and fighting. Will had stayed in the back with the other archers, but he'd soon realized he wasn't doing much good. When he'd seen Castor, one of Dionysus' kids and a frequent volunteer at the infirmary, go down from a blow to the head, Will had abandoned the high ground and dove into the fray.

And ended up arrow to trident with a dracaenae.

Now, for an average eighth grader, Will wasn't that bad an archer. He did, after all, occasionally hit the target. Compared to most of his siblings, however, he shot like crap. Both Lee Fletcher and Michael Yew were archery prodigies, and all Kayla needed to do to be able to play an instrument was to pick it up. Will could play the guitar, the trumpet and the lyre (a requirement for everyone in Cabin Eight) and had perfect pitch, never mind that his voice was soawfully average it was just embarassing. Not to mention he did a mean super sonic whistle. He also liked poetry quite a lot, even if he was terrible at writing it. But his real talents lay in healing, and that wasn't much use in the heat of battle.

When a freaky snake woman is about to spear you with a giant fork, it's a really bad time to get distracted. And yet, to his horror, when Will suddenly caught a flash of darkness in his peripheral vision, he found himself turning around to see what it was.

In some part of Will's brain, birds started chirping, angels started singing and the sun came out from behind the clouds to shine down on a meadow of flowers where cute baby animals were frolicking together in the sunshine.

The rest of his brain wanted to slap the stupid hormonal teenager right out of him.

The dark flash was a kid. He had to be at least a couple years younger than Will himself and was small and bony, dressed all in loose black clothes with a sword dark as night. He was also doing some serious damage to every unfortunate monster or enemy demigod who happened to be in his vicinity.

This wasn't the first time Will had wished he could trade the blessing of bandaging and stitches for just a little bit better aim, but when his bow string suddenly snapped and whacked him in the face, causing his arrow to veer wildly off course, completely bypassing the dracaenae in front of him and almost hitting Nyssa in the foot, he just wished he hadn't been blessed with anything at all. At least then he would have an excuse to never ever set foot outside his cabin ever again and run the risk of coming face to face with the doomy gloomy eleven year old who had somehow managed to catch his eye from across the battle field.

The dracaenae thrust her trident towards Will's chest. He rolled out of the way, and someone came up from behind and stuck a knife in her throat. The snake lady dissolved instantly into yellow dust.

Not believing his luck, Will scrambled to his feet and looked around. The kid he had seen before was wading through the monsters like he was taking a stroll through the park, slashing his black sword through the hordes and absorbing their life essence until nothing was left. His expression was stoic and unreadable, almost bored, but his eyes burned with a manic fire as he desecrated the monsters, like they were nothing but pathetic bugs that had the misfortune to get in his way.

Will just kind of wanted to stand there and gape at him for awhile, but a hell hound bounded towards him and by the time he got away, the kid was gone.

In the aftermath of the battle, the entire Apollo cabin was confined to the infirmary. Even though they were still reeling from Lee Fletcher, Fiona Jarvis and Kasey Crilling's deaths, Cabin Eight still had a duty to the wounded. Will used up thirty Ace bandages, gave a couple hundred stitches, splinted fourteen broken bones - including all four of Chiron's legs - and watched ten people die because not even the food and medicine of the gods could help them, before Kayla told him to take a break.

Will ignored her and kept going. But each time the infirmary door opened he looked up, half hopeful and half terrified that the next person who came in would be the dark haired boy he had seen.

The kid never appeared.

Second Time

Will had seen the kid several times in the Battle of Manhattan. He had seen him ride a hell hound into battle dressed in pitch black skull armor, seen him face off with the King of the Titans, seen him raise an army of the dead and cut through another army of monsters while trying to protect the mortals.

But that had all been from a distance. The only time he had been close enough to go up to him was afterwards, when he caught sight of him talking with Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase. Will must have been only ten feet away from them, helping load the injured into the camp vans.

Without the skull helmet, Will had been able to see the boy's deep-set eyes and the urgent flutter of his hands as he said something to the other two.

And then they flew away.

Will hadn't had time to even think about going up to him.

Now, seated at his new place at the Ping Pong table with the other senior counselors, (in Michael's place, in Lee's) he felt like he was just realizing how young the kid really was.

Percy had just burst in yelling, "Grover, you better not have eaten all the donuts!" He was grinning wildly and hand in hand with Annabeth.

Trailing behind them, dressed from head to toe in black was the kid himself. He did not appear to be sulking exactly, but he definitely didn't look thrilled to be there.

"So guys, this is Nico," Percy said, cheerfully oblivious to the dark brooding cloud that hung over the kid's head. "Son of Hades. He's the one who came with the freaky skeleton army and saved all our sorry asses. Nico, senior counselors. Counselors, Nico di Angelo."

Nico di Angelo.

Nico.

It wasn't the first time he'd heard the name, but it was the first time he'd associated with his kid.

All the counselors around the table muttered hi or gave a little wave. Nico just glared at the floor. Percy went around and introduced everyone. Nico refused to meet anyone's eye.

Next to Percy the boy looked so small and skinny and pale, and more childishly human than Will had ever seen him. He was at least a head shorter than the son of Poseidon, and with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his aviator jacket and hunched shoulders it was as if he was trying to appear even smaller.

It occurred to Will that he could say something, say hello, maybe ask him to sit down in the empty seat next to him.

He almost did it.

But then Percy was asking if he was 'ever going to sit his butt down', and Nico gave him such a dark look, like he was serious considering commanding the earth to swallow him up, and said very stiffly, "I prefer to stand, thank you."

So cold.

Will slumped back in his chair and fiddled with the Ace bandages he had wrapped around his hands and forearms, feeling like he had been the one shot down.

The meeting passed by in a daze. Percy spoke about how they were going to building more cabins recognizing the minor gods, but Will couldn't concentrate. He smiled and replied when someone spoke to him directly, but the rest of the time he was busy trying to look at Nico out of the corner of his eye.

It took him a few seconds to realize when the meeting was over. Quickly he scrambled to his feet and looked around. Nico was already walking away. Will started towards him, unsure what he was going to do (say hi, or just make eye contact?) but before he could do anything, the kid dissolved into shadows right before his eyes, leaving Will with nothing but an outstretched hand clutching air and Nico's name on his lips.

Will found himself becoming rather fond of black. Back at his mom's place in Florida, he went shopping, buying a grand total of two shirts – one short sleeved, one long sleeved – one pair of sweat pants and three pairs of socks, all in black.

His siblings would no doubt disapprove - Apollo kids were known for their colorful ensembles, second only to the Aphrodite Cabin's. It wasn't like Will didn't like his jeans and camp tee-shirts, or his cargo shorts and brightly colored tank tops anymore. He was just learning to appreciate a new color.

And it happened to be a very comfortable color. Very simple, very calming. It was . . . nice. His sibling looked at him like he was insane, but really, it was just a shirt. If he had been in anyone other than Apollo's child, no one would have even noticed. He didn't wear them every day, he didn't start praising the powers of darkness.

It was just a shirt . . . right?

Third Time

Usually, when someone had a crush it was on someone nearby, someone who went to their school, who worked at their coffee shop. They would see them once, think they're cute, sense an attraction. Then they would see them again and again, torture themselves with the possibilities, gather information on the object of their affection, observe them at every opportunity.

Will did not have this problem.

For one thing, he estimated Nico came to camp maybe two to four times a month. And usually Will went back to his mom's during the school year, which meant about eight months out of the year, even those few times weren't worth anything.

And what about those days Nico came, but he just didn't see the kid? Did it still count as cowardice if he didn't even know the opportunity was passing by? If Nico was there, and Will just wasn't aware of it, could he forgive himself for not making conversation?

Sometimes he wondered what he would do if presented with the perfect opportunity. Would he be able to speak normally, or would he just stare and gape until Nico realized he was mentally incompetent and shadow traveled somewhere far away, as he seemed so very apt to do?

Will was a very friendly person. He was nice to everybody, even Clarisse, and people liked him. Came to him for help. Asked his opinion. But somehow, Will thought, even if he did manage to speak to Nico like a normal person, it wouldn't end well. Nico didn't seem to be interested in people, much less dating them, much less dating a guy. Will was fifteen. Disregarding the fact that the kid was two years younger than him, Will had had his fair share of crushes before.

But Nico was different. He wasn't like Danny Grosling from the Demeter Cabin, or Jeremy Tichus, the unclaimed boy from Hermes, and especially not like Sarah Vatsie from Athena, (though he wasn't sure if that one counted,) or anybody else he'd ever maybe been attracted to.

Will knew nothing about Nico. He didn't think he'd even seen him enough to have developed a proper crush. Nico seemed to be on a different plane of existence than everyone else, somewhere Will wasn't allowed. He was the son of one of the elder gods, Prince of the Underworld, King of Ghosts. No matter how human he appeared up close, there was always a sense of power lurking under the surface. Just like with Percy, minus the son of the sea god's dorky personality. The kid may have been a grouch, but he was also very refined.

Nico was . . . there was no proper way to say it.

Untouchable.

And Will didn't have a chance with him.

This was proved especially on the day Will was asked (read; begged) by his sister Kayla to help her ask out Jake Mason. Also know as, 'Will Solace's failed attempt at being a Love Doctor.'

All he had to do, Kayla told him, was deliver the poem she had written to Nyssa, who would then give it Jake. Will wondered why Kayla couldn't just give the poem to Jake herself, but he didn't say anything.

"Love makes us brave, love makes us cowards," he thought, waving to Travis as he dashed by, Katie hot on his heels.

"My roses!" she shrieked at him. "A hot glue gun and glittery raccoons, really Stoll!? What are you, five?"

Travis just laughed and ran a little faster.

Will shook his head. Love made people idiots. Walking towards the forges with Kayla's poem in his pocket, Will's thought's strayed, as they sometimes did in odd moments, to Nico di Angelo.

If he was ever in this situation with Nico . . . ?

Somehow he couldn't imagine the kid being too fond of flowers or poems. How would Will even get them to him? He didn't come around enough for leaving them in his cabin to work. Who were his friends? Percy, Annabeth, Rachel . . . Those were the people he occasionally interacted with, but Will didn't know anything about friends.

He was so close; halfway between the arena and the armory when he saw him. Walking alone, always by himself, black clothes, black hair; black mood, black sword dragging by his side.

Will froze and stared so hard his eyes hurt, wondering if he would ever be able to think rationally again.

Then he blinked and Nico di Angelo was gone.

Dazed, he didn't hear the person coming up behind him until Jake tapped him on the shoulder.

"You okay, dude?" he asked concernedly. Jake was still in a wheelchair, but it looked like his hands were healed. They were bandage free and covered in grease. "Seriously, man. You're freaking me out. You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Will wanted to laugh. He was a little worried that if he did, he would end up crying.

Instead he just muttered something and stumbled back to his cabin, completely forgetting Kayla's request.

She looked at him in confusion when he handed her back the poem.

He just shook his head.

That night he lay awake in his bunk while everyone else was asleep and wondered if he had really seen Nico at all. Furious with himself, he tore a sheet out of one of Kayla's empty songwriting notebooks. He had never been even halfway decent at poetry, but that night he filled up both sides of the page, cramming as many words as he could into each college rule line until he fell asleep.

When he woke up, what he had written the night before didn't make any sense. He puzzled over every phrase and wording, trying to decipher the half asleep scribbles. Eventually he gave up, attributing it to the mad ramblings of three o clock in the morning.

He didn't throw it out, though. Just crumpled it up and shoved it under his pillow, hoping someday he could forget it existed.

Love makes us brave, love makes us cowards,

Love makes us fools.

Love is patient, love is kind,

Love means slowly losing your mind.

The First Time All Over Again

Will was happy. From the second Nico di Angelo stumbled into existence on Half-Blood Hill in a strange, brightly colored Hawaiian shirt Will had never seen him wear before and nearly took his head off, Will had felt more okay than he had since the Titan War started.

Because, you see, Will had made a decision. No more chances. He didn't care if he dated the son of Hades or not. All right, he did, but that wasn't the point.

The point was that Nico was there, talking with Will, arguing with him, insulting his hair, his wardrobe and just about everything else, wonderfully solid and there and alive. He hadn't appeared at camp since the Argo II set out, and Will had no idea what he had been doing all that time, but he knew just from touching his hands, (touching his hands! The thrill if it kept him grinning even as he recalled the traumatizing ordeal of delivering a satyr baby – which made Nico smile; Will didn't think he'd ever been so happy,) that if he made one misstep he would fade away forever.

Chances were for his own love life, not Nico's life.

So he lay down the law. No shadow traveling. No raising the dead. No underworld magic-darkness doohickery. Doctor's orders.

He was on a roll. They distracted the Roman's from the onagers, which resulted in Will finally doing something he was good at – running, (despite the last three sleepless nights he suddenly felt full of energy) Nico doing some serious ass kicking on his behalf, (even without his powers the kid was unbelievable,) a minor hitch when Nico did use his powers and nearly collapsed, (Will would never forgive himself for enjoying the few moment when the kid actually needed his support,) another argument, getting to use his supersonic whistle, and getting to watch Nico stand up to Octavian and the other Roman's with his quiet, determined, slightly terrifying and seemingly endless strength.

And then Nico announced he was leaving.

Both camps.

For good.

Will felt like someone had punched a hole in his stomach, slowly stretched it apart and was pulling all his organs out with ice cold pliers.

He suddenly realized how important those few glimpses each month had become. For them to be taken away, for Nico to be just gone, like he'd never existed . . . Gods, it pissed Will off, but it also opened a deep dark hole in his heart he was afraid of falling into. And then that limp, over cooked noodle-like sorry excuse for a son of Apollo had the audacity to try and buy Nico's loyalties. (As if Nico could ever be bought. He would do exactly what he liked and no one, especially not Will would be able to stop him.)

And the look on Nico's face . . . Will knew what he was thinking. He was planning on killing Octavian, been planning on killing him before he'd even come to the battlefield. And that was the only way, wasn't it? Octavian was crazy; the only way he'd ever stop was if someone made him.

Will couldn't let him do it.

If anyone made a move towards the augur they wouldn't get out of there without the entire Roman army attacking them first. Not even Nico could survive that, not in his condition. It was wanted to take the kid by his shoulders and shake some sense into him. He wanted to yell at him, say, "Are you really so miserable that you'd let yourself die? Do you really think your life and his are worth the same?"

He could imagine what Nico would say. He'd look up at him with those deep dark eyes that made Will feel like a child who didn't understand the sacrifices grownups had to make.

"No two souls are worth the same," he would say. "But my life is worth far less than his death."

Thankfully, Octavian, he could get angry at. No one disrespected Apollo's Cabin like that and didn't get some serious sass in the face.

Lucky for Octavian the onagers went off before Will got started on his mother.

And then came the Greeks. Along with another chance to use his awesome taxicab whistle.

And then Nico was smiling so widely Will had to smile too, before he even knew what there was to smile about.

And then the Athena Parthenos was coming down from the sky like an angel on the wings of a cavalry of pegasi and a demigod girl Will had never seen before was yelling at them to work together.

And then Nico was striding forward to tell everyone they were being idiots with such authority it gave Will shivers . . .

And then, of course, the world ended.

For the next ten minutes or so, Will stood back with Octavian and let everybody else to the work.

He wasn't being lazy. He had a sword, but he wanted to avoid using it at all possible. If he was bad at archery, he sucked at sword fighting. He'd been on a re-con mission for the gods sakes. He hadn't thought he would have to do much fighting.

He was also rather busy watching Nico fight, partly because he wanted to make sure he didn't use his powers and partly because the kid was an absolute demon.

Watching Nico di Angelo fight should have been a religious experience. Will could have stood there until Gaea rose and the world exploded, watching Nico slash his way through the dirt monsters, but as usual, Octavian ruined it.

Will turned around as soon as he heard Latin cussing. Octavian was furiously trying to reload the nearest onager.

"Great Apollo, don't you know when to give up!?" growled Will, drawing his sword nervously. He was really, really bad at sword fighting.

"Stay back, graceus filth," Octavian spat, grabbing an explosive and holding it threateningly over a match. "Or else we both go up in flames!"

Will's hand tightened on his sword. Octavian had a gleam in his eyes that made Will quite certain he was not in his right mind, and he definitely didn't want to mess with a crazy guy who had a lit match hovering near a bunch of explosives.

Dammit.

"Stay there!" Will told Octavian, quite unnecessarily. He had lost sight of Nico, and now he dove into the chaos to find him. Which he did, fighting next to Jason Grace, who Will hadn't even seen come in.

It just took one word to get the manic fire back in Nico's eyes. They ran back towards the onagers as quickly as they could, pausing only to gape as Crazy Dirt Lady got carted off by Happy the Dragon.

Will hated Octavian. He really, really did. Octavian was Gaea's instrument through and through even if he didn't know it. He was the reason all this was happening.

Will saw Octavian's robes tangled in the onager trigger. So did Nico, so did Michael Kahale.

If he hated Octavian so much, why did he try to save him?

Why was he the only one who couldn't do what needed to be done? It cracked open his own little Pandora's Pathos where his fears lay. Why was he so weak? Why couldn't he keep people from being hurt instead of just trying to patch up those who already were? Why did he sometimes want to tear the world down, but he only had the power to heal?

It was only Nico holding him back. Nico's soft voice as he said Will's name, his first name, for the first time. And when Will looked back at him in disbelief Nico had looked so old, older than Will had ever seen him, like a great weight had settled back onto its familiar place on his shoulders.

Will didn't look at Octavian when the onager went off. He didn't watch the fiery comet as it soared into the sky and disappeared behind the storm clouds.

Will's eyes were only on Nico, and he wondered how such a powerful demigod, such an untouchable prince, such a child, could have an expression like that, with such sad, wise eyes.

Will went less than forty eight hours before he cracked. He spent the whole time going back and forth between his cabin and the infirmary, working side by side and treating people he'd never even met before, and wondering when the heck Nico was planning on coming and seeing him. He would, wouldn't he? He'd just disappeared after Octavian had blown himself sky high, and Will hadn't seen him since. I mean sure, Leo Valdez and twenty other people had died and the whole Roman/Greek situation was giving everyone a headache, but that didn't give him the right to just leave Will hanging like that.

Will wanted to see Nico. He wanted to make sure he was okay. He wanted to make sure he hadn't already left camp and then smack the idea right out of his head.

Gods he needed to talk to that kid. Talking to him was so much easier than thinking about him, and ten times easier than just sitting there and worrying.

His father Apollo must have smiled down on his pathetic love life, because he finally, finally caught sight of him out his cabin window. Will was out the door in less than a second, not even bothering to take of his green surgeon's shirt.

Nico was talking to Jason Grace.

Again.

Grrr.

That may or may not have contributed to Will's scowl and general annoyance while talking to the kid, but all was forgiven when he got Nico to agree to three days in the infirmary. Three days in which he would have the son of Hades right under his nose, unable to go off somewhere and get himself melted into a puddle of Underworld goo. He felt like the next few days suddenly held endless possibilities.

"I'll be right back. Promise on the River Styx and everything."

Will tapped his foot impatiently, watching with narrowed eyes as Nico went over to Percy and Annabeth, (his friends, Will reminded himself,) and spoke to them. He couldn't hear what they were talking about, but Percy suddenly went from ecstatic to gob smacked, and Annabeth looked like she wanted to laugh. Nico grinned and high fived her. He started back towards Will, leaving Percy and Annabeth to argue happily by the hearth.

"So, what was that about?" asked Will.

Nico glanced up at him as if considering.

"Just some unfinished business," he said finally.

Will crossed his arms grumpily. "Fine. Don't tell me."

They left the wonky circle of cabins and walked towards the infirmary. Will felt like he was a security guard escorting a prisoner to his cell, except of course for the fact that if it came a fight he was one hundred and ten percent positive he would lose. He could feel the kid's eyes boring into the side of his head, and while normally he might not mind Nico's attention, positive or negative, it was making his ears burn.

The burning spread from his ears, down his neck and across his face. It felt like his blood was boiling. He didn't turn around. Gods this was pitiful. Just having Nico look at him was making him . . . well, with anybody else it might have made him angry or uncomfortable or annoyed.

Nico was a different case entirely.

Still, Will could feel the kid's displeasure growing over his head like a rain cloud. He looked over at Nico and saw he was glowering at him like he had insulted his mother. Will gave him a sheepish grin. His glower deepened.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

That knocked the burning right out of him. He looked at Nico in confusion.

Nico looked deadly serious.

"And please, do not say it is because I cannot use my powers right now. That is a terrible excuse."

Will wondered distractedly if Nico noticed that the more upset he got, the more polite his speech became.

"Excuse me, good sir, would you please fuck off?"

"Um . . ." Will swallowed, floundering for an answer. Being scared of Nico had never really occurred to him.

It wasn't like he didn't know the kid was perfectly capable of killing him and throwing his soul to the harpies. He wasn't under the delusion that Nico was too good a person to hurt anybody. He knew that betting on his kind and considerate nature would probably get him killed. It was just . . .

"If you gotta choose a way to go," thought Will.

He thought a lot of things about the son of Hades. If he had to describe Nico di Angelo with words, the first to cross his mind would be powerful, annoying, merciless, dark, childish, quiet, gloomy, wise, maniac, cool, alone, skinny, brooding, eloquent, determined, ghost-like, stoic, transient, run-down, worrisome, awe-inspiring, crazy, dense, pitiless, pale, ridiculous, infuriating, unhealthy, frustrating, mysterious, confusing, rough, anti-social, fleeting, intelligent, young, ruthless, independent, ephemeral, human, charismatic, tired, strong, mature, insane, provoking, sacrificing, suicidal, amazing, upsetting, enigmatic, brave, unhappy and very, very interesting.

But scary?

No.

There was definitely something very . . . thrilling about being around him. Whether it was his underworldly powers or just the kid himself, Will couldn't ignore how it made him feel.

"You . . ." he swallowed dryly. "You really are . . . something else."

"W-what?" The words seemed to knock the glower out of Nico's expression. It was replaced with a soft sort of shock, and Will had to blink several times before he could tear himself away from the kid's confusion.

"Uh, nothing," he said quickly. "Oh, look, we're here."

Luckily the infirmary had remained untouched by the war. Will hustled Nico past beds full of injured demigods and healers, and set him up in the 'long term stay' wing where it was quieter and he could give Nico some privacy and a large window full of sunlight. Nico refused point-blank to wear a hospital gown and Will conceded gracefully on this small point, with the condition that he wasn't allowed to wear his Stygian iron sword or shoes around the infirmary. Nico slipped his sword under his pillow and curled up on top of the sheets like a cat. He was asleep almost instantly.

Will fidgeted around for another ten minutes, wanting to talk more, or do the routine check up that was necessary for their insurance, or, or, or. Finally he just draped a blanket over the kid's shoulders, resisted the urge to tuck him in and left to check on his other patients, feeling annoyed with Nico for being so calm and unaffected, and annoyed with himself for being annoyed.

Will was just finishing a rather disgusting bit of quickie surgery on a son of Mars whose leg had swollen to twice its size with puss from an infected gash on his thigh, when he felt it. Two seconds later he burst into the 'long term stay' wing just in time to see Nico fall back onto the bed.

"Are you insane!?" he cried, rushing forward and trying to push him back down. "You know what? Forget what I said earlier. You are an idiot!"

Nico slapped his hands away smartly. "Stop freaking out, Solace. I'm . . . fine."

He didn't look fine. The little color that had come back to his face was gone; he looked one stiff wind away from dissolving completely. When Will tried to take his pulse, his fingers passed right through his wrist.

Will's stomach contorted. "Nico . . ."

"Hades, Solace. You look like you've seen a ghost." Will looked up at Nico and was shocked at the tiny smile playing about his lips. It did something to his heart that felt like an arrhythmia.

"Here. Look." Nico lifted his arm so the sunlight landed directly on it. "See? I'm fine."

Will touched his wrist; Nico tensed, but let him. This time his skin felt cool and dry, and very much solid.

Nico's wrist was thin and delicate. The blue venus veins were starkly visible under thin white skin. When Will found his pulse it was so faint it took him twice as long as usual to count because he kept loosing track of it. It was faster than he would have expected from someone who walked around half dead.

"You're an idiot," he repeated. "Why would you try to shadow-travel after I specifically told you-"

"Sorry," Nico interrupted, yawning sleepily. "Just forgot."

"Forgot," Will muttered, gripping his wrist tightly. "Right. How convenient, that you can just forget that any tiny little thing might tip you over the edge and send you spiraling into oblivion-"

"Not that," Nico interrupted again. "Hazel. She was asleep when I left. She won't know where I am. I just wanted to-"

"I can tell her where you are!" This time Will was the one interrupting. "Gods, Nico, what do you think I'm here for? To watch you kill yourself out of stupidity? Just . . . just . . . Gods, you're just . . . ugh!"

He threw his hands up in exasperation. Nico didn't say anything and Will stomped away. He was back a second later with a little black bag, from which he pulled a professional looking stethoscope.

"Sit up and lift up your shirt," he said stiffly.

Nico eyed the stethoscope warily. "What is that?"

"Relax, jeez. I got my online medical degree when I was twelve, okay? You're in good hands."

Nico looked at him suspiciously. "Online?"

"Great Apollo. Would you just get over here?"

Will sat on a stool next to the bed and checked his heart, his mouth, his eyes, his ears and his reflexes. He tried to do it without touching Nico as much as he could because he knew he didn't like it, but sometimes he forgot and the kid would stiffen up like Will was about to shoot him.

After he put away his instruments in the little black bag, he jotted down a few notes in the patient file, muttering to himself.

"Bad. Bad but not terrible. Hmph."

Nico yawned again. He had curled back up into a ball, his knees pressed against his chest, his head resting on one hand and the other tucked under his elbow.

"Are you still tired?" Will looked at him with concern.

"Mmm. What time is it?" Nico asked.

"About noon." Will was frowning. Nico thought it made him look older. "Didn't you get any sleep last night?"

"I don't like to sleep in the dark," Nico said. "Sunlight keeps away the nightmares."

He said it so frankly.

There was quite a lot Will wanted to say (or shout) on that matter, but Nico looked like he was already half asleep and there was still something Will wanted to talk about.

"Nico?" He leaned his elbows on the bed and propped his chin up on his hands.

"Hmm?"

"You . . . I'm sorry."

Nico opened one eye and looked at him guardedly. "Why?"

"Because I . . . with Octavian. I shouldn't have gotten you."

Nico's voice went cold as an Arctic winter. "I do not regret what I did, Solace. Whether I killed Gaia or Leo or both, I would do it again every time. Octavian had to die. That was what had to hap-"

"I can't fight!" Will blurted. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes so he didn't have to look at Nico's expression. "I can't . . . fight."

There was a moment of silence. Finally Nico said, "I know."

Will looked up. "What do you mean 'you know'?"

"In the Battle of Manhattan you spent the entire time unnecessarily risking your life for the injured on the battlefield. You walk around with a bow, but you never seem to remember it's there. You would obviously rather run around like a headless chicken than use a sword properly. When you do hold a weapon, your grip and stance is all wrong. I will be blunt, Solace. You must really suck."

"That's . . . true, but not what I meant." Will looked down at his hands. "I'm not really gifted in anything but healing. That's great when I actually want to heal someone, but when all I want to do it stab someone in the gut . . . I just can't."

He hated the look on Nico's face.

"Don't look at me like that!" Will snapped, standing up in agitation. "It's not some heroic refusal to hurt someone. I physically can't. If you held a sword to my throat and I had one at your ribs, and I tried to kill you before you killed me . . . well, I wouldn't be able to! Whenever I try, it's like my whole body locks up and I can't move! And then it's like I'm having a panic attack because there's all this fear and I can't stop shaking, so I just . . . I just can't. So that's why . . . that's why I'm sorry. I was right there. I was right next to Octavian, and I didn't do anything. I shouldn't have had to come and get you. It wasn't fair to make you be the one to . . . I should have been able to do it myself. Sorry."

Nico just looked at him, and Will couldn't read the expression in his dark eyes. The midday sun fell across his bed and caught on his pale skin and in the shadows under his eyes, and Will suddenly realized that in that moment, Nico was quite beautiful. All his darkness and tension seemed to be temporarily balanced with sleepiness and sunlight. He had never been obviously attractive, and the words Will would use to describe him physically would not be the usual positive ones, but now he quite lived up to his surname.

Of the Angels.

It could have been the lack of stress, or the lighting, or the fact that Will was falling hopelessly in love with him, but for a second he had another word to describe the son of Hades. Angelic.

Then Nico snorted and the moment was gone, dead and buried. The kid looked like death, as usual, and he was glaring at Will as if he had personally insulted him.

"You are a fool, Will Solace," he said finally.

"Yeah," Will thought. "I know."

"To be perfectly candid, you are a naïve idiot who is entirely too trusting and has absolutely no sense of self preservation. If you did, you would not dare stand there before me and complain about not being able to hurt someone. Your taste in clothing is ridiculous at best, and any physical attributes are overshadowed by your complete lack of demeanor."

Nico took a deep breath and continued.

"I don't pity you, Solace. Healing, whether a gift or a curse, is what the gods have given you, and you are just going to have to get over it. If you don't want to heal people anymore, then just do nothing. I certainly don't care. But it's a pointless practice to condemn yourself for what you cannot control. So you can't choose to cause someone harm. Stop whining and leave murder to those who have experience in such matters."

For once in his life, Will Solace could not think of anything to say. Nico yawned again and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It made him look like a little kid.

"Besides. You don't need to be able to fight." His eyelids fluttered shut. "I can protect you."

Will gaped at him as heat flooded his face, but Nico was asleep before he got his voice back.

Oh Nico. This just my little headcannon, mind you. I like how it kind of evens things out between them. Review, pretty please with Nico on top?