"I can't keep doing this, can I?"
From where he was sitting next to the cot Will glanced at Nico. But Nico had his eyes on the ceiling, like he was asking the question to the ceiling instead of to Will.
Will looked down to the paper in his hand. But the words on Nico's records on his hands become things without any meaning.
"What do you mean?'
"I can't keep on coming back here, being broken like this, asking you to fix me…only to leave again."
Will chewed his lower lip.
(Don't leave, then)
Will stayed silent as he placed the folder on the small table next to the cot.
"First of all," he said, fiddling with the pen that he was holding to stop himself from taking Nico's hand. "You're not broken."
Nico turned his head and locked his eyes at Will. The dark eyes staring at Will, asking questions.
Will smiled softly. "You're just…tired. Injured, sometimes. But no, you're not broken."
Nico was still staring at him, and again, Will got lost in the dark galaxy hidden behind those eyes.
"You're not broken, Nico. There's nothing about you that needs to be fixed."
Silence passed between the two of them.
Nico's eyes were staring at his, like he was searching for something.
Will wondered whether he would ever be the one that Nico has been searching for.
"What's the next one, then?"
Will arched an eyebrow.
"You said first of all. What's the second one, the next ones?"
This time, Will allowed himself to gently brushed away some of Nico's hair from his forehead.
"Whenever you're tired. Whenever the world is too much for you, you can always come back here."
(I will always be waiting. Holding a candle to light the way for you)
The look in Nico's eyes got softer.
Will wondered whether Nico has found what he has been looking for.
"I…" Will pulled away his hand from Nico's hair.
"Will?"
Suddenly Will's heart was too big for his chest and it was beating too fast.
"Yes?"
"Should I stay tonight? I mean…for…the healing process and stuff?"
Nico's voice was low with hesitation. Nico's eyes were staring at him with a fragile hope.
Will stared back at him.
His heart was heavy and Will could not understand whether his heart was aching with longing or it was fluttering with hope.
He smiled, pretending that the question was can I stay.
"I think so," he said.
"From your medical perspective point of view?"
Nico's smile was barely visible, but it was there anyway.
Will's lips tugged up higher. "A professional medical point of view."
Nico gave him a microscopic nod.
"And…" he said, paused with another hesitation. "Can you…stay here too?"
Will braced himself to carefully placed a hand on Nico's shoulder.
"Of course."
Nico reached out a hand to cover Will's hand. His smile was barely visible on his lips, but his eyes were smiling too now.
"Thank you," he said.
Will wondered, whether he would ever have the chance to ask the same question to Nico. Whether he could ever ask Nico to stay.
(Maybe asking Nico to stay would be too much, when sometimes Will felt like Nico would not even come back.)
They were in the middle. That was how Will liked to think about it. Not at the beginning, and Will prayed to all the gods in Olympus, they were nowhere near the ending.
People might think that the beginning was those three days in the infirmary.
It was far before that.
Will never told anyone, not even Nico, but the beginning was the Manhattan Battle. The beginning was when he saw Nico, slaying monster gracefully with his black Stygian sword like he was dancing with death.
The beginning was the Manhattan Battle, when Will watched like he was being hypnotized, following Nico's movement with his eyes while holding his breath. He didn't know someone could look so beautiful in a fight. Nico proved him wrong.
That was Will's beginning.
And they were in the middle now. Even though the middle was only one, two steps away from the start.
Maybe there was an ending somewhere.
Will tried not to think about it. He tried not to think that this, whatever this was that they had right now, was nowhere near an ending.
"So he just left?" Kayla asked him.
Kayla didn't say it, but Will could feel the word again, ended with a question mark, hanging in the air.
Will studied his eyes to the bottles on the shelves that he was arranging. The day after tomorrow, he's going back to Tennessee. He needed to make sure that whoever was in charge of the infirmary while he was gone would have everything that they needed.
"Well, his injury was healed, he still had some things to do for his father-"
"So he left."
Will didn't bother to respond to that.
"I'm sorry Will," Kayla said, this time in a softer tone.
(It's still kind of hurt, though.)
Will turned his head to look at his half-sister. He flashed a smile at her before returning to his desk.
"Sorry? What for?"
Kayla didn't answer it.
She walked to the desk where Will started to busy himself with some forms. They needed new supplies for some of the medicines, and some more supply of unicorn draught wouldn't hurt. From the corner of his eyes, Will could see Kayla took a seat on one of the chairs.
"What is it between you and Nico anyway?"
Will wanted to laugh at her question. He wanted to laugh and laugh until he felt numb. Until it didn't hurt anymore.
(Maybe he would have to laugh forever then)
Will pretended he didn't hear the question. It didn't stop Kayla from asking another question.
"What is it that you want, Will?"
Something higher. Something more.
"I am happy with whatever that we have now," Will said, keeping his eyes on the empty lines of the form that he needed to fill in.
"You don't want anything else? Something more?"
Will could not say no.
So he looked up at Kayla, and stretched his lips into a smile. Kayla stood up, closed the gap between them as she wrapped her arms around Will.
"I'm sorry Will," she whispered.
Will took a deep breath and shook his head.
"Don't be," he said, placing his hand on Kayla's arm, trying to find something to hold on to.
"It's nobody's fault."
(It's nobody's fault. I should have stayed away from the beginning. I did this to myself.)
Will opened the mailbox and pulled out the mails. Two white envelopes that might just be the regular bill for something, and a glossy rectangular card. A postcard. For him.
He stared at the postcard. The big, silver art installment that Will recognized as the Bean, one of the famous landmarks in Chicago, frozen as a picture on the glossy, thick paper. Will turned the card. Nico's cursive handwriting was neat, but it still took a while for Will to read the words.
Maybe it's his dyslexia. Or maybe it's his rapidly beating heart.
My father is sending me on a mission to some states around the country.
I promise I won't use shadow travel too much.
If you're receiving some postcards, it's just to let you know that I am still alive.
Will smiled for the rest of the day. His chest was filled with warm air for the rest of the day.
Before he went to sleep that night, Will carefully stuck the postcard on the wall next to his bed with a cello tape.
The next postcard came three days later. The words Greetings from Indiana were printed in bright colors, over the picture of a tall building. Will read the cursive handwriting on the other side.
Roses are red, violets are blue.
That's it. Don't expect me to write a poem on a postcard.
Besides, I am not the son of Apollo. You are.
Almost four months later, and Will had 17 postcards stuck with cello tape on the wall next to his bed.
That morning, Will got another postcard, and a white envelope. Will looked at the logo and the words printed on the envelope.
He froze again. He walked into his house on an autopilot, and sat on the chair. The white envelope and the postcards were on the dining table, side by side, staring at him.
There was a picture of Cleveland's skyline at night on the postcard.
The NYU logo, along with its name and address were printed neatly on the envelope.
Will never expected to have Nico standing in front of his house. A small part of him had hoped for it. A small part of him had wished for it. But expecting it? No part of him dared to do it.
So for a second or two after he swung the door open to find it was Nico who rang the doorbell, he didn't say anything. His brain was already having a hard time to process that Nico was standing there. Then Nico tugged his lips up into a smile, and his brain stopped working at all.
"So, this is your house."
Will leaned his side against the door, crossing his arms over his chest. "It is."
"I always thought that the infirmary is your house."
"It is home too for me. A second home."
Nico's smile got just a bit wider. His eyes were a bit brighter. Suddenly seeing him made Will felt like he found home.
Will cleared his throat and straightened up. "You want to…uh.. come in?"
Nico shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah. Thanks."
Nico stepped in. Will closed the door and walked to the kitchen, Nico following him behind.
"You want something to drink?" Will asked as he opened the cabinet to take some glasses. He turned his head to Nico. Nico was still standing on the doorway to the kitchen, looking unsure.
"Yeah, water would be nice."
Will gave a smile that he hoped to be an assuring one, and filled two glasses with water. He walked to the dining table and sat there, placing the glasses on the table.
"Here," he said, pushing one of the glasses towards another chair.
Nico nodded and walked from where he was standing. He sat down, and took the glass. He held the glass, but didn't drink from it.
"So what's up?" Will asked. "What brings you here?"
Nico chewed his lower lip before he answered.
"So, NYU, then?"
Something icy cold ran from Will's neck down his spine. He forced a stiff small laugh.
"News travels fast, huh?"
"So you're not going back to the Camp?"
Will smiled softly. "I will still go there on Summer, I guess. Or for some…short visits."
Nico nodded, but his eyes were fixed on the glass that he was nursing with his hands.
Will sighed. "Besides, Camp is also home for me."
"My father has an apartment close to that school," Nico said.
Will raised his eyebrows.
"Really?" Will stretched his lips into another smile. "You should visit me then."
"It doesn't feel like home, though."
From the chair across of him, Nico lifted his head up, locking his eyes at Will.
Will's heart stopped beating for a moment. He didn't understand why. Maybe because he was already lost in Nico's eyes again.
"You, are home, Will."
Will blinked. It felt like the world stopped spinning for a while. He stared at Nico, trying to understand what he just said.
Will didn't seem to understand it. He was too scared to hope that it meant what he had wished for. He looked away from Nico, staring at the window. The amber light of the late afternoon sun streaming in.
"Don't say things that you don't mean, Neeks," he said.
(I can't take it any longer.)
"I mean it."
Will slowly turned his head back to Nico.
If only Nico was not that beautiful. If only what he felt for Nico was not this strong.
"It was always you, wasn't it?" Nico said solemnly. His eyes never fell off from Will's.
It was. It had always been me. And maybe, it would always be me. Waiting at the end of the road.
"I…," Will opened his mouth and started. But then he failed to find any words to say. He closed his mouth again. He looked down at his hands on the table, fingers lacing together.
"I have something for you," Nico said.
Will lifted his head up. Nico took something out from the pocket of his jacket. A glossy rectangular card. He placed the postcard on the table, and slowly slid it towards Will.
Will took the card. He smiled to see the picture of Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum on the postcard.
"Nashville, huh?" Will looked up at Nico. "It's only about an hour drive from here."
Nico nodded, slightly smiling.
Will turned the card and read the now-familiar handwriting on the other side.
Another state. And all that I can think about is you.
Will's heart did that stupid backflip again.
He placed the postcard back on the table and stared at it. At the words, written in the elegant cursive handwriting.
"Will…" Nico called him softly.
Will didn't answer him. He couldn't even look at Nico.
(It was terrifying to have this kind of feeling.)
The next second, Will felt Nico's skin against the back of his hand.
"Thank you for waiting, Will."
Will lifted his head up and braced himself to meet Nico's eyes. There was a warm light in Nico's eyes.
Will smiled. Letting himself to believe that this was for real.
"You need time," he said.
Nico's thumb rubbed some small circles at the back of Will's hand.
"Be my home, will you?"
Will bit his lips but it couldn't stop himself from smiling. Something like warm melted caramel flowing in his veins.
"You know you can always come back to me, right?"
The smile on Nico's lips was warm and felt like home. The light in his eyes was bright and looked like home.
Will shifted his hand, so now he could hold back Nico's hand.
"I love you, Will."
Will closed his eyes and smiled. "Thank you," he whispered, and opened his eyes.
Nico stood up, and wrapped his arms around Will's shoulder, pulling him into his embrace. Will pressed his face against the side of Nico's chest.
"I love you, Will," Nico said again, and pressed a kiss on the top of Will's head.
"Thank you," Will said again. "I love you too."
Nico was warm and he felt so real as Will wrapped his arms around him, burying his face against Nico's black aviator jacket.
They were still in the middle. Maybe they would always be in the middle. But at least they have found home. Then maybe, they would not have to get to the end.