Hello everyone! As usual, thank you for the ridiculous amount of follows, favorites and reviews! You guys are too good to me.

Okay, notes on this chapter: It is the second day of Nico's infirmary, and this is where time gets tricky. This is the longest chapter yet, because it had two really long things. Today we are having a random angst specialty, with a heavy dose of my personal headcannons on the side. If you have any questions about those, aka I completely confused you with random explanations of things that don't exist, please feel free to ask me to explain properly in a review!

The songs Will plays in this first one are the songs I'm learning in high school guitar 1. Very easy, and very nice. I feel like as a whole, like at parties and such, demigods listen to stuff like AWOLnation, Michael Jackson and Fall Out Boy. But I couldn't imagine specifically what kind of music Will and Nico liked, so I made Will like almost anything and Nico pretend to hate everything just to annoy Will while secretly enjoying most of it. The last song, Maggot Brain, is such a wonderful song, I suggest you go listen to it right now so you understand the feels behind it.

Someone asked if I would ever write smut for this couple. I have to admit, I am very flattered. I would never want someone to specifically write smut for a couple I love unless I really liked the way they wrote and portrayed the characters, so I am very honored. The answer issss . . . maybe. Probably sometime in the future (like years and years) I will try to do something smutty, and when I do, I will remember your request.

All righty then! Let's get this show on the road! This was beta'd by the amazing and wonderful AbbieDabbie! Now I can finally get to work on your birthday present! Your birthday was what, a week ago?

~I don't own Percy Jackson~ But seriously, how cool would that be? Probably less cool when Annabeth murdered me in my sleep, but then again, that would be such a cool way to die!

Music

It all started with the radio. Will liked to have it on at all times, in every room of the infirmary, saying it 'helped him concentrate' and 'accelerated the healing process,' and 'provoked a healthy atmosphere.'

Nico hated it. He said it was 'énas thóryvos rypogóno̱n apovlí̱to̱n tou chrónou pou trimméno eknev̱ristiká sta név̱ra kai den tha boroúse na theo̱ri̱theí káti perissótero apó éna kommáti anaxióti̱tas .'

Or, in English, 'A noise polluting waste of time that grated irritatingly on the nerves and could not be considered anything more than a driveling piece of worthlessness.'

As one might expect, that did not go over well with the son of the god of music. (Whether Will himself was musically gifted was irrelevant – he still liked to listen.) And so it became Will's mission to find out what kind of music Nico liked.

Usually Will would set the radio to a random variety station and be okay with whatever song came on, but the that day he turned the dial to a rock station. And then a rap station. And then classical.

Each time Nico declared he hated it. Will didn't know whether he was just being difficult on purpose, or literally had no musical taste, but either way he wasn't backing down.

And then Will came back to find the radio had been mysteriously stabbed, gutted and strewn in little pieces into the fireplace.

"Right." Will took a deep breath. "Right."

He left abruptly and then stormed back into the room ten minutes later with a slim silver contraption in his hand.

"All right!" he exclaimed. "That's it! I have at least one song from every genre known to man right here, and I am going to play each and every single one until you like something!"

If Nico thought that was a poor strategy, he didn't say anything.

He watched shrewdly as Will set up the small silver rectangle on a black box and plugged it into the wall.

"What is that?"

"This, my uncultured young friend, is my personal iPod." Will nodded importantly as he scrolled through his songs. "Be grateful that you are allowed the deep and intimate honor of being privy to my most innermost self."

"I'm speechless with wonder," Nico muttered. "What's an iPod?"

Will just shook is head in disbelief.

He started with country and folk music and then went on to rap and pop. Blues and jazz. Metal and rock. Alternative rock. Techno. Celtic and opera. Soul. Retro/eighties. Foreign. Classical. Everything he had in neat little labeled playlists, and then on to the miscellaneous items. From the Beatles to Elvis to Michael Jackson and beyond, Will had very song he'd ever heard stored on that small silver device, and after every song he'd look up hopefully, wondering if Nico had finally heard something he liked.

Every time, Nico would glare at him like are you serious?

Will would have torn at his hair in frustration, but it was carefully styled with several bobby-pins to keep it away from his face while he worked, so he settled for quiet seething and dirty looks.

Nico dozed.

"Dammit, di Angelo!" Will finally roared, throwing down the flowery potholder he had been using for unspecified reasons. "What the hell do you want from me!?"

Nico squinted up at him sleepily. "Wha . . .?"

"This!" Will slapped the top of the black box (home speaker) his iPod was resting on and the dulcet tones of Whitney Houston stopped mid-song. "Do you seriously not like any of this!?"

"Mmmn." Nico rolled over onto his stomach, twisting the sheets around his waist and propping himself up on his elbows. "Not really."

Will seemed to deflate.

"Really?" He looked so sad and pitiful, Nico almost felt guilty.

But not guilty enough. "Really."

Will slumped onto the end of his bed. "You honestly don't like any kind of music?"

Nico observed his defeated posture with a lazy eye and didn't respond.

"Ugh." Will flopped across the bed, his head hanging off one end while his long legs dangled over the other. He covered his face dramatically and gave a long, woe begotten sigh.

Nico watched him with interest. "Don't you play guitar?"

"Where on earth did you hear that ridiculous rumor?"

"You've played it at the campfire."

Will uncovered his eyes. "I play guitar," he admitted. "And sometimes the trumpet. And the lyre, but only because my dad insists on tradition. Although lately he's been going on about some Valdezinator thing . . ." he trailed off for a second and then snapped back. "But it isn't a gift. The music, I mean. I had to learn from scratch, and I have to practice a lot to keep from getting rusty. And don't even get me started on my singing-"

"No need," Nico interrupted. He had heard Will's self deprecating musical/archery speech several times already.

"Do you have your own guitar?"

Will looked over at him, confused. "Yeah. One electric, one acoustic. Why?"

Nico looked at him with sleepy, half lidded eyes. "Play me something?"

Will's eyes practically bugged out of his pretty blonde head as he gaped. "W-what?"

Nico shrugged and gave a small yawn. "I just thought since you're so gung-ho about all this music schist, you would want to explore every option."

Will glared at him suspiciously. "Fine."

Ten minutes later he was back with and electric blue and black zebra striped guitar and a small portable amp. He plugged everything in, settled on the edge of the bed and strummed a few chords to make sure it was all in tune.

"All right," he said. "What should I play?"

"Hmm." Nico was scrolling through his iPod. The miniature screen and touch pad seemed to fascinate him to no end. "Uhh . . . This one. The black one."

Will took the iPod to see which one he was referring to. He raised his eyebrows. "The Rolling Stones. Nice."

He took a deep breath and began –

"I see a red door and I want it painted black,

No colors anymore, I want them to turn black,

I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes,

I have to turn my head until my darkness goes."

Will played through the whole four minute song while Nico watched with lazy interest. Finally Will plucked the last note and let it ring out into the empty silence. He looked at Nico expectantly.

Nico shook his head and held up another song.

"Folsom Prison by Johnny Cash? Seriously?"

Nico raised an eyebrow.

"Fine."

"I hear the train a comin', it's rollin' down the bend,

And I ain't seen the sunshine since, I don't know when,

I'm stuck in Folsom Prison, and time keeps dragging on,

But that train keeps a rollin', all down to San Antone."

"You are so full of schist, Solace," Nico said when he was finished.

"Excuse me?" Will said, affronted.

"You kept going on and on about how bad your singing was. And now I'm calling you out on that bullschist."

"My voice is not-"

"No, it's not good, it's not even slightly leaning towards good. It is, without a doubt, the most mundane singing voice I have ever heard. No doubt compared to your siblings it's leaning more towards the 'not good'. But it isn't bad." Nico sighed. "I have to say, Solace, I'm a little disappointed. It would have been cool if you could have scared away monsters just with your singing."

"But-"

"Play this," Nico interrupted him again. "It doesn't have a singing part."

Will glanced at the song. "Maggot Brain? That's a ten minute song!"

Nico looked at him expectantly.

"Grr. Whatever."

Maggot Brain was a long electric guitar piece by Edie Hazel. It started off as something very slow and very simple and very sad, and then rolled in between the many crescendos like wailing waves. The song had always reminded Will of someone crying or screaming, with that constant background melody as the sorrows that troubled them no matter how much they railed. The amp echoed every note back, to the effect that the whole song took on a haunted feeling, much at odds with the bright sunlight and Nico's sleepy expression.

Eventually the song trailed off into silence.

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, and then Nico gave a faint laugh and rolled over.

"You know," he said, "I didn't really like that one either. You should play another one."

Will stared at him in disbelief. And the suddenly he was laughing, maybe a little hopelessly, maybe a little breathlessly, and Nico was grinning at him with a mischievous twinkle in his dark, sleepy eyes.

"Fine," Will said, shaking his head. Like I could say no. "I'll play another one."

I'll play as many as you want.

Coma

"So who else is in here?" Nico asked. Will looked up distractedly from a stack of patient files he was cross referencing.

"What?"

"Those two beds have curtains around them, and all the others are empty." Nico scowled. "Why doesn't my bed have a curtain?"

"Because I need to keep my eye on you." Will shot him a tired grin. Nico flushed and grumbled, pulling the blankets over his head so he didn't have to look at Will Solace's stupid face.

"Most people don't stay here too long after they're well enough to get out," Will said. Nico stiffened, wondering if that was an insult to him or a jibe at Will himself. He lifted the blanket an inch and took a swift peek out. Will was looking at him with unsettling fondness, but he didn't look like had been joking at all.

"That guy," he pointed to the closed off bed near the door, "Hermes kid with slashes all over his face, neck and chest with poisoned claws. We stopped the poison in time, but the actual wounds aren't healing well. Worst case scenario is he won't hear, speak or see again.

Nico raised his eyebrows, interested against his will.

"Now as for him," Will gestured to the bed across from Nico, "We have no idea what's wrong with him. Ares kid, or rather Mars - he's Roman. Found him unconscious on the battlefield, with only minor injuries. We healed those, gave him an IV of nectar and tried just about everything we could think of to wake him up, but he's an eight on the coma scale and shows no sign of improvement."

"Aren't comas one of those medical things you're supposed to be good at fixing?"

Will didn't take the bait. He ran a hand through his hair and squinted at his watch blearily.

"Yes," he sighed. "But there's nothing physically wrong with him. I can't fix a problem that isn't there." He looked so despondent, as if it was his own personal folly that some poor shmuck had a bump on the brain.

Nico looked at him inquisitively. It was the middle of the day; Will should have been at his peak of annoyingly chirpiness. Instead he was ignoring jabs at his abilities and wearing the same clothes he'd had on the day before. And the day before that.

He frowned at his own thoughts. Why should he care whether stupid Dr. Sunshine was getting enough sleep?

Annoyed with Will, and especially with himself, Nico rolled over and went to sleep, just to be spiteful.

When he woke up an hour later, Will was gone and the windows were open, letting in the sunlight and fresh air. Nico grimaced. He and nature had a lot bad blood between them.

Almost unwillingly, he glanced over at the curtained off bed that hid the supposed coma patient.

Damn the kind, human part of his nature, small as it was. Damn it to his dad.

Muttering to himself, Nico stumbled to his feet and crossed the room to the closed off bed. He drew back the curtains, and gave the young man laying there a cursory glance. Dead in every relevant way, except . . .

His shadow was off.

Nico picked up the patient file hanging by the foot of the bed. Bruno Davies it read. Below was a picture of the guy smiling slightly, his eyes looking somewhere off to the side. He had a big nose, a thick neck and slick brown hair. He reminded Nico somewhat of Percy's little brother, Tyson the Cyclopes. Except with two eyes. Underneath the picture was a whole bunch of medical stuff that Nico actually understood. The 'Cause of Death' files in the Underworld were similarly organized after all.

Well then.

Nico took a deep breath.

"Bruno Davies," he called in a loud, clear voice.

Almost at once, a ghost appeared in front of him.

"You called, my lord?" Bruno looked very much like his picture, except leeched of all color and glowing a proper ghostly white/blue. "Umm, my lord? Are you okay?"

"Fine," Nico muttered. He leaned heavily on Bruno's bed, trying to catch his breath. He had hoped that just calling out to the ghost, and not actually summoning him, would be less draining. It was, but he still had to take a moment to compose himself.

Bruno's ghost waited patiently until Nico turned back to face him.

"Did you need me, my lord?"

"You're not dead yet, so you don't have to do the whole 'my lord' bit," Nico sighed. "In fact, if you were completely alive, you wouldn't be caught dead calling me that."

"Whatever you say, my lord."

"Ghosts," Nico thought, shaking his head. He pointed to the coma patient's prone form. "Is this your body?"

"I . . . believe so, my lord."

Nico tutted disapprovingly. "You believe?"

"I mean . . ." the ghost looked confused. He gazed at his body as if it were an old friend whose name he was trying to remember. "Yes. This is . . . my body."

"Why don't you tell me how you got out of it." Nico sat down on the edge of Bruno's bed and looked at his ghost expectantly.

Bruno was still staring at his body. "My head hurt . . . I think I got hit. And then I was asleep for a while . . . and then I heard a battle going on outside. People were screaming . . . I wanted to help. So I got up. But my body didn't. And now I don't know how to go back in."

"Obviously," Nico said under his breath. "May I try something?"

"Of course, my lord."

Nico stood up and gestured for Bruno to lie down on the bed. The ghost did so, looking extremely confused.

"No, no," Nico sighed. "Inside your body. I'm going to seal you back in."

It took some prodding before Bruno's ghost was perfectly lined up with his body. Ares and Mars kids were all brawn and no brain. At least Frank had some intelligence.

Finally Bruno was ready. The only way to tell his body and ghost were still separated was the ghostly glow surrounding his body. Nico reached over to grip the edges of his shadow.

"Ready?"

Bruno made a sound like he was being strangled.

"Good."

Nico took a deep breath . . . and tugged. There was a satisfying, clicky feeling as Bruno's shadow snapped back into place. The glow around his body faded, and he suddenly jerked and inhaled sharply. After a minute, his breathing steadied, and his eyelids fluttered like he was dreaming.

Nico watched him carefully for a moment, and then climbed back into his own bed. He hadn't even used any shadow magic for that particular trick, but he was already exhausted. He burrowed under his sheets, and only had time to vaguely wonder how Will would react to his coma patient waking up out of the blue, before sleep claimed him.

As it turned out, Will was one of the last people to know. His brother Austin was the one who discovered it first, during his checkup rounds. His startled yells woke Nico up, and brought the rest of the Apollo kids running. Will was not among them.

And then, of course, the Romans had to be informed, and various procedures done on poor, barely awake Bruno. So the formerly nice, quiet and peaceful, 'Long Term Stay' wing was full of noisy Roman cohorts and a bunch of underage healers who each had a different idea of what the proper course of action was for mysteriously awoken coma patients.

Nico very much wanted to throw them all out and go back to sleep, or better yet shadow travel somewhere far, far away from the rowdy crowd. But alas, he had no authority over living infirmary occupants, and shadow travel would probably end up being more trouble than it was worth.

The only good point was that no seemed to have realized Nico's involvement. Bruno was still pretty out of it; Austin had mentioned he wouldn't be able to wake up for long periods of time for awhile, and therefore hadn't been able to give an accurate description of what had happened.

Nico certainly wasn't going to say anything. In fact, he was extremely grateful that the visitors had ignored him so far. He didn't know how they would react to what he had done, and he didn't particularly want to. Sure, they might be grateful, but he really didn't want a bunch of Romans fawning all over him. And what if they thought he had cursed Bruno, or something equally misguided? It was far better to lay low, and it gave him more of the possibility of getting back to sleep.

And then, finally, Will wandered in.

His eyes went straight to Nico, and Nico knew immediately that he was in trouble. Will was way too smart. He would not take Bruno's miraculous recovery as a gift from the gods, not when Nico di Angelo was in the same room.

Nico watched apprehensively as Austin told Will what had happened, and then as Will checked Bruno over for himself. Hooking his stethoscope back around his neck, Will gave Nico an intense, unreadable look. Nico scowled back at him. He hadn't done anything wrong.

"All right, everybody out!"

Nico blinked in surprise. Everybody groaned as Will shooed them out of the room, promising the Romans that they could visit later, and reassuring his siblings that he would have an explanation shortly.

Will slammed the door shut behind them with both hands and leaned against it. His shoulders slumped, and Nico suddenly remembered how tired Will had seemed before.

Then Will whirled around, strode across the room with long, forceful strides and practically jumped on Nico's bed.

First he took a minute to situate himself comfortably. He ended up sitting cross-legged in front of Nico. Then resumed giving him the Stare Down.

Nico looked at him blankly.

Will's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Nico's dark brows went up in bemusement.

Will twisted his mouth into something that almost resembled a frown. It looked painful, like he wasn't used to doing it.

"You did something," he stated.

Nico schooled his features into looking offended. "I didn't!"

"You are such a liar!" Will hissed. "I told you no shadow magic! I said you shouldn't even get out of bed! You've probably set your recovery back weeks-!"

"I didn't use any shadow magic!" Nico said flatly.

"Then what did you do?!"

"I woke him up!" Nico snarled.

"Without shadow magic? No Underworldy stuff, whatsoever?"

"No."

Will sat leaned back on his hands and regarded him warily. "How then?"

Nico huffed and looked away. "None of your beeswax."

"My patients, my beeswax! Explain, di Angelo!"

"I won't indulge your obsessions just because you prattle and pry, Solace!"

Will gasped in offense. "Prattle and pry?! It's not my obsessions that are the problem here!"

"And what is that supposed to-"

"You can't bear to trust someone even if it's just-"

"You think you have to be the one to fix everything, even if it isn't-"

"You're such a-"

"You are a-"

"A what!?"

Nico opened his mouth to respond – and then suddenly realized that he and Will were practically nose to nose. With a muffled yell, he sprang to his feet and was across the room in seconds.

Will gaped at him. Nico pressed back into the wall, wishing he had the strength to disappear. Anger forgotten, they stared at each other, waiting for someone to break the icy silence.

Finally Nico looked away. Will made a strange little sound and put his head in his hands.

"Sorry," he whispered. Nico didn't reply – his chest felt too tight. He slid down the wall and wrapped his arms around his knees, curving over and hiding his face in the space between. He didn't want to look at Will; it was like looking directly into the sun.

It hurt.

He didn't even know why they were arguing. It had happened so suddenly, like they had been waiting for a chance all day, boiling and simmering away on the stove and then someone added salt and everything had blown up over nothing.

"You need to stop making me mad," Nico finally said against his knees in a low, hoarse voice. "It's dangerous."

"Why?" Will's voice sounded thick.

"Because," Nico said fiercely. He raised his head. Will still had his face covered. "Someday I'll kill you."

Will dropped his hands. His eyes looked bright, but Nico didn't know whether from anger or something else.

"No you won't. I'm immune to you."

"That's . . ." A child's response. Nico groaned and banged his head against his kneecaps. I hate the living.

Will sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. Nico glared at him. Will raised his chin defiantly and didn't flinch.

Nico looked away. "Sometimes people's shadows get loose," he muttered.

Will's brow furrowed. "What?"

"That's why people stay in comas when there's no medical reason." Nico sighed and glared out the window. "Usually from a trauma. Their shadow gets knocked loose, which throws everything out of balance, and then it takes a little while to fix it. But sometimes the ghost slips out through the gap, and then the shadow can't go back without cutting off the ghost from the body and killing the person."

Will still looked confused. Nico wanted to smack him.

"It's like . . . imagine we, as humans, are in five parts. When we're alive, we have our physical body, which is like the camera lens. Then there is the ghost, which takes the same shape and space as the body, but is made from something else entirely. The ghost is the actual camera that takes the pictures of our lives, which we see and understand through our body, and then sends it to our soul where everything is recorded. Think of the soul as a tiny glowing library in side your chest."

Will looked at him blankly.

"So . . . say someone gets hit in the head. Two things happen. Their physical brain swells and they get a concussion, and their shadow gets knocked just a little off balance and they pass out. We're actually designed to fix that, and it wouldn't take longer than a few days at most. But the ghost is what connects the body and soul. Sometimes it might hear something that makes it want to get up and keep going, and if the shadow isn't keeping it completely locked in, it will leave the body behind. But ghosts are stupid. They only change when the body does, and their change is what adds to the soul. So now the ghost is stuck in that last moment that made it want to get up, the body is near death and the soul is completely cut off, unable to grow."

Will blinked. "What about the fifth part?"

"What?"

"You said we have five parts. You've mentioned the shadow, body, soul and ghost. What's the fifth?"

"The fifth . . . fire. Or rather, life. The stuff Prometheus gave us. It's the balance of the shadow, like how the body is the balance of the soul. The ghost just ties everything together. If the shadow is off balance, so is the fire, so is your life, which is why you're almost dead."

Will's mouth hung open a little as Nico explained. Then he shook himself.

"So." He leaned forward and stared at Nico, hard. "What did you do?"

Nico shrugged. "I put his ghost back. And sealed his shadow."

"And that didn't require any Underworldification?"

Nico raised his eyebrows at the new word. "I can touch people's shadows and ghosts the same way I touch the living. It requires little to no effort. It's just annoying. And I didn't even summon his ghost properly, I just called him. He came without me having to make him do anything."

Will looked at him. It was the same, intense stare as before, but Nico had told the truth. What else did Will want from him?

"What?" he finally snapped.

Will didn't lower his gaze. Nico couldn't place his expression, but it was unsettling.

"You look tired," Will said finally.

Nico snorted. "So do you."

Will fell to his side on Nico's bed, one hand playing with the sheets. The sun painted him gold and white, but Nico could see the shadows under his eyes and between his lips.

"Can I tell them you were the one who woke him up?" Will asked.

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"They should know what you did for them," Will insisted.

"They don't need to know anything." Nico curled up further into a ball. He was surprisingly cold without blankets or direct sunlight.

Will got up very suddenly.

"Get back in bed," he said without looking at Nico. "It would be stupid for you to be telling the truth about not using shadow magic and then die anyway."

Nico had to agree with that. The son of Hades 'Cause of Death' file should be a bit more interesting. He lay back down and began wrapping the blankets around himself like a cocoon. The warm sunlight tickled his nose.

"Can I at least tell them after you're done in here?"

"Ugh." Will was obviously not going to let it go. Nico pressed a pillow over his head. "Fine."

Will didn't say anything else, but Nico could feel his gaze burning him from the inside out. He lifted the pillow enough to growl out – "What?"

"Are you seriously that bothered by my looking at you?" Will asked.

Nico shifted uneasily "It makes me . . ."

Will sighed. "I just . . ."

They both stopped.

Want to kiss you.

They both looked away.

And that would ruin everything.

Breathe

Will was going crazy. That became particularly obvious to Nico at six o clock in the afternoon, on the second day he spent in the infirmary. He could hear Will shouting from the front area that served as an emergency room, something about not having the proper sized scalpel.

Nico was fairly sure his anger had nothing at all to do with scalpel sizes, and everything to do with the fact that he hadn't gotten more than a couple hours sleep for the past four days, (which went against every Apollo child's most basic instinct to rise with the sun and sleep as soon as it set) and had barely eaten anything for even longer.

And maybe also, because of the patient he had just lost early that morning.

Usually, with demigod war wounds, if you didn't die within the first hour, you were probably going to be fine. Nectar and ambrosia was pretty much hit or miss.

Which was why when Aria Jacobson, one of Will's younger siblings, did not die, despite the four gruesome puncture wounds on her side, everyone had assumed she would make it. Hell, even Nico had sensed her strong, fighting life source, felt it stay steady and unwavering throughout the night.

And then at five in the morning, she had started screaming. Nico had woken up very suddenly, feeling her life force flickering madly, sputtering and gasping like a dying candle flame. Will's voice had carried over from the ICU – he had been up all night and was at her side at once.

"Aria? Aria, what's wrong!? Someone get me some nectar and ambrosia, now!"

Nico had slowly swung his legs out of bed. He'd heard people's footsteps running around frantically, voices shouting and above it all, Will calling out for herbs and bandages, as he desperately tried to save his little sister.

Nico could have told him there was nothing he could have done.

He'd made his way slowly through the darkened corridors and stopped in the doorway of the brightly lit ICU. All the Apollo kids had been crowded around Aria's bed, passing around surgical instruments and rolls of bandages. As Nico had watched, Will had ripped open Aria's shirt and sucked in a deep breath. The puncture wounds that had been healing so nicely had turned mottled green and purple, swollen and pulsing against the stitches and oozing pus. Ugly blue lines spider webbed under her skin, reaching all the way across her chest. The poison had already entered her heart.

"Will," Nico had said quietly.

Will hadn't even pause.

"Austin, get a syringe of nectar."

"But-" Austin had looked torn. Aria had started shaking, her long auburn hair splayed across her pillow, spit frothing in the corners of her mouth, choking off her cries.

"NOW!" Will had bellowed, and Austin had scurried away and returned with a syringe full of golden liquid. Will had snatched it, slammed the needle into his sister's chest and pressing the plunger down forcefully, injecting it directly into her heart.

Aria had given gasping breath and shaken even harder, almost violently, shaking the whole bed.

"W-Wi-i-il-l-l," she had whimpered.

Will had gripped her hand. "I'm right here, baby. You're gonna be fine." He'd poured more nectar into her mouth. She'd choked and gasped. Nico had known that to her it would only tasted like ash, and it wouldn't have done anything to help. Nectar was the food of the gods, not the dead.

"Will," he'd said again.

Aria had screamed again, high and piercing, and started thrashing around, knocking the bottle of nectar out of Will's hands. Across the room, her eyes had met Nico's. He'd felt the darkness swirling in her tiny body, the terror, the pain.

Nico had leaned against the doorjamb and closed his eyes, feeling around for her death, lingering on the edges of her shadow. It had been there, waiting patiently for a quiet moment to steal her away. There had never been any way to save her. The last threads of her life had been quickly unraveling, and Nico had almost been able to see the old, grandmotherly Fates sliding the blade of their scissors through the last bit of resistance.

Nico had taken hold of the girl's darkness and tried to project his own thoughts into it.

It's okay, everything's okay now. I'll make the pain stop. You can let go.

Aria had gasped and shuddered, and then gone very, very still. Her heart monitor had flat lined with a long, high whine.

"NO!"

Nico's eyes had flown open. Will had whirled angrily on Austin who stood beside him, staring down at his little sister's corpse. "Get me the paddles!"

No one had moved.

"Will," Nico had tried again.

Will hadn't seemed to hear him. He'd pushed aside one of his siblings and grabbed the paddles from a nearby crash cart, charged them and pressed them to Aria's unmoving chest.

"Clear!" Aria's body had jerked. He'd done it again.

"Will."

Will had thrown away the paddles and pressed his bare hands to her chest, pumping it up and down. Her heart hadn't started.

"Will," Nico had whispered.

"No," Will had ground out. He had been sweating under the harsh ICU lights, his expression desperate and crazed.

"No!" he'd repeated. His hands had glowed and Nico had felt him pushing his life force into Aria's empty body, trying to wake it up.

"Will, stop!" Nico had leapt forward and grabbed Will's wrists as he stumbled forward, his own life force dimming for a moment before steadying.

"Let go," Will had whispered hoarsely. His eyes had been wild, unfocused and unseeing.

"She's gone, Will," Nico had said, giving him a little shake and trying to make him look him in the eye. "She's gone."

Will had made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. "She's not - I can bring her back-"

"You can't," Nico had said harshly. He'd tightened his grip on Will's struggling hands. "You can't help her anymore, Will. And if you try that again, I'll break your wrists."

Will had finally met his eyes, and Nico had hated his expression. It'd made his stomach bend in on itself, made him want to cry out with the all pain and sadness Will was feeling.

Nico's gaze had only frozen Will for a second, and then he'd tried to twist his hands back to Aria's body, even harder than before. Nico had frowned.

Crack.

Will had yelped and cradled his hand to his chest.

"I'll break the other one too," Nico had said coldly.

Will had been breathing heavily, his eyes darting from Aria's bloodless face, to Nico's dark eyes, and back to Aria, as if unable to look at her for too long, but at the same time unable to tear himself away.

In the end it was Will's siblings who had separated them, dragging Will away from their sister's bedside with firm or gentle hands.

Nico had let his own hands fall to his sides.

I'm sorry, Will.

Small, clammy hands had touched his own. Looking down in surprise, Nico had seen the eight year old Apollo twins, Clarence and Clarity at either side of him. He only knew them because they were Rachel's self-appointed helpers, both gifted with the powers of prophecy.

They had looked up at him with wide blue eyes full of tears and tight sweaty hands.

"Thank you," they had whispered together.

Nico had watched, stunned, as they left hand in hand and followed after the rest of their siblings.

It had felt like he stood there for hours. But finally an arrogant beam of sunlight had poked him in the eye and he'd come back to his senses. Before he had left, he'd reached over and gently closed Aria's eyes.

"Have fun in Elysium," he'd thought. "You'll be missed."

Demigods were always fighting a war, against monsters, against gods and titans and giants, against each other. And with war always comes death. They got used to it, to a certain point. But the problem with thinking you are getting used to something is that it is ten times worse when it surprises you once again.

Nico was used to death. To dying. He had already forgotten what it was like to not have it be a constant part of his life.

Will had seen his fair share of death, and as a healer he shouldered part of the blame, whether it had actually been his fault or not.

But he could still be surprised.

And now he was taking that surprise out on innocent Aphrodite kids who just wanted to lend a hand wrapping bandages and bedazzling casts.

Nico heaved a deep sigh and once again swung his legs out of bed. This time though, he didn't go far. He just knelt on the floor at the foot of his bed, where a puddle of darkness lay in the bed's shadow.

Will's darkness was easily distinguishable from the tangled world of gloom. Nico stuck both of his arms in, and then his whole torso, being careful to keep his knees firmly planted on the cool floorboards of the real world.

Nico appeared in a shadowed corner of the emergency room, right above Will's shaggy blonde head. Lacy, Mitchell and a few others gaped at his disembodied torso, but Will was too busy railing at them to notice.

"I asked you for a number six, size ten scalpel! This is a size twelve! A mistake like this could kill someone! Do you want to be responsible when I make just a little bit too big a cut and some poor sap's guts spill out onto the floor!? Do you – MMPH!"

Nico covered Will's mouth with one hand and wrapped his other arm around his chest.

"Please excuse me while I kidnap him," he said calmly, and then pulled Will back into the darkness, leaving most of the Aphrodite cabin with their mouths hanging open.

They tumbled through a whooshing tunnel of black, and then Nico yanked them both onto the floor of the 'Long Term Stay' wing, Will practically collapsing on top of him.

"W-what the hell, di Angelo?" Will got shakily to is feet. "What the fuck do you think your doing?"

"You're killing yourself," Nico said without preamble. Even that bit of shadow travel left him weak and exhausted, so he just leaned back on his hands and looked up at Will from the floor.

Will made a sound like he was trying to laugh, but couldn't. It sounded harsh and wrong coming from Will's mouth. "Look who's talking."

Nico tilted his head. "Death is different for me. For me, dying will be like . . . like going home after a long day."

"Oh really?" Will made the harsh, laughing sound again. He pressed his hands to the back of his neck and didn't meet Nico's eyes. "And for the rest of us?"

"Death for the dead is like slipping into a never ending dream. The only difference is if it's a good dream, a bad one, or just meaningless existence. For the living left behind when the ones they love are dead . . ."

"We get the really rotten end of the deal, huh?"

Nico frowned. "You've seen plenty of death before, Solace."

"So what, I'm just supposed to get used to it?" Will whirled around, and to Nico's surprise, his eyes were red rimmed and full of bright tears. "Is that what you do? You just . . . just pretend it doesn't matter?"

Will shook his head back and forth and sank to the floor, his hands clenching and unclenching, scratching against the wooden floorboards. "I can't . . . I can't do that! All these deaths, ever since I was little, and I couldn't help any of them! Do you know how many people that is? How many I've failed? I counted them up once. Three hundred and twenty seven. Three hundred and twenty seven people who died, because I couldn't do the one thing I'm good for. Even just in numbers, that's a lot. I can't even remember most of their names. I don't think I even learned half their names."

He spat the words out like they were poison that needed to be leeched out, but it still wasn't enough. "Some of those were just random strangers, some were friends, but some of them were my own siblings! Lee, Fiona, Michael, Kasey, Ave Maria, Jonas, Cassandra, Lyra . . . So many of us died in the Titan War, but this time I though maybe, maybe the gods would let us off the hook! The battle was so short, and there were so few casualties, and none of my brothers or sisters were badly hurt, and now . . ."

Will's voice cracked on the last word and his face seemed to crumple. "I'm just so sick of this. Aria was only twelve; she wasn't supposed to be fighting! And now I'm just supposed not care that she'd dead? Because I've lost so many other siblings, it shouldn't matter anymore? I can't . . . I can't!"

And to Nico's horror, he threw himself into the son of Hades' lap and started to cry.

It took every bit of Nico's willpower not to dissolve into shadows.

Physical contact was not on his bucket list, especially when the other person initiated it first and didn't ask permission, and especially when they were crying and filled with darkness that tugged at the frayed edges his self-control.

"Solace!" Nico tried cringe away, but Will was heavy, his weight pressing on Nico's legs. "Dammit, Solace!"

"Waaaaaaahhh!"

Nico quickly realized the situation was spiraling from depressing to ridiculous at an alarming pace.

"Gods, Solace," he sighed. Somehow the other boy always managed to make a mess of things. His tears were rapidly soaking into Nico's freshly laundered shirt.

Nico had absolutely no idea what to do with him. Comforting his loving little sister with reassuring words and a kiss on the forehead came as naturally to him as could be expected, but this . . .

Will was not his little sister.

Nico flinched and gritted his teeth as Will gripped his black shirt tightly. His shoulders were heaving with sobs, and Nico toyed with the idea of just knocking him out, or possibly throwing him in the Lethe.

Ugh. Other people were such a hassle.

But Nico couldn't stand to see Will cry.

Very, very carefully, he lifted one hand and tentatively rested it on Will's surprisingly narrow shoulder. The small touch seemed to shock Will so much he lifted his head to look Nico in the eye. His face was red and blotchy and wet with tears, but his iris' looked impossibly blue against his bloodshot eyes.

Nico looked flushed and awkward and faintly exasperated, and Will suddenly wanted very much to kiss him. But then Nico's expression mellowed out into something dark and thoughtful, and Will shivered as his hand lifted from his shoulder and accidentally brushed against the tip of his ear and tickled the ends of his hair.

Then Nico's fingertips grazed the heated skin on his cheek and temple, and Will stopped breathing. He wondered vaguely in the back of his mind if he was having a heart attack or maybe one of his lungs collapsed, or even possibly an allergic reaction was causing his throat to swell and cut off his air supply. But mostly he concentrated on that barely there touch, feather light and gentler than he would have ever expected from the son of Hades.

"It's not your fault."

Nico said it quietly and without infliction. And unlike every other time he had heard those words, from his family, from his friends, from himself, Will believed them. Because he believed Nico would tell him the harshest truth, if only because he didn't care enough to lie. Because Nico knew.

"Yeah," Will whispered. He closed his eyes and leaned forward to rest his head on Nico's chest. He tensed immediately, and Will felt a stab of guilt because he knew how Nico hated touching. But he was feeling selfish.

"Sorry," he muttered, not feeling particularly sorry at all.

"Hmph." Nico grunted and shifted uncomfortably. There was moment of tense, awkward silence that Will wished fervently would end. But that would probably include having to move, and that was something he just wasn't willing to do right then. Maybe in a minute. Or an hour. Or a day. Or never.

"I don't know if I'm used to it yet," Nico said finally.

"I'm sorry," Will told him. "I shouldn't have said that."

"You were right." Nico shrugged, as if that was a good enough reason to excuse him. "Death in general doesn't bother me. Most of the time I spend more time with people after they have died then when they were alive. I've only ever lost one person I really cared about. I don't know what would happen if I lost another."

"Who was it?" Will was afraid if he pressed Nico would shut down and disappear, but he was so very curious.

"My sister."

"Hazel?"

"Bianca. She is-was my older sister on both sides, before I even knew about the gods. She was killed during a quest, one she had left on almost as soon as we had arrived at camp. I stayed behind, but I knew the second she died. I did everything I could to bring her back, but it was never enough."

"I didn't know you had another sister."

Nico hesitated. "I was . . . very angry at her for leaving me all alone. I didn't remember my mother and I didn't know my father, so for a very long time she was the only person I loved. And then she was gone. I'm still not used to that. But I haven't lost anybody else I really cared about, not really. I spend quite a lot of time and energy making sure of that."

"Which landed you in here," Will muttered.

"Mm. I could have planned it better."

There was another long, trailing moment of silence, but this one wasn't nearly so awkward. In the deadened stillness, Will could feel the faint rise and fall of Nico's chest as he breathed, heard the mute pulse of his heartbeat.

How long would that sound last? Nico had the attitude of someone with a deadly long term illness. Was it just his easy acceptance of death, or the fact that he always seemed to be on the verge of it himself?

Could someone so imbued with death ever be really alive? Nico walked through the world as a ghost, unaffected and unafraid. It made Will feel foolish for wanting to touch him.

"Will?"

Will froze, wondering if Nico had somehow heard his thoughts, or if he wanted to get up. And which one would be worse.

"I'm sorry about your sister."

Will swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry. "Thanks."

"I killed her."

Will lifted his head. "What?"

"When I saw she couldn't be saved. The nectar wasn't helping, and she was in so much pain . . . Her death was right there, so I helped her let go. Like she was going to sleep." Nico looked hard at the floor, not wanting to see Will's face. But Will gripped his shirt tightly, his hands shaking.

"Wait. W-wait, so . . . she wasn't in pain? When she died? Really?"

Nico nodded stiffly.

"Oh." Will hung his head and took long, deep shuddering breaths. "Oh. Thank the gods. I thought . . . I couldn't do anything, and she was screaming so loudly . . . I thought she must h-hate me for that."

"She doesn't hate you," Nico said, still refusing to look at Will. "No one hates you. There isn't a single ghost who blames you for their death. They know . . . you did the best you could. And they're grateful for that."

Will gave a little choking laugh. Nico thought he might be crying again. "I'm not sure I believe you."

"I don't lie."

"Oh really? Not ever?"

"Not about this."

Will wasn't quite sure what he meant by 'this', but he didn't want to argue. Not when Nico was letting him inside his bubble of personal space without trying to kill him.

"How's your wrist?" Nico asked suddenly.

Will had almost forgotten about that. "Fine. I heal quickly. Didn't even need ambrosia. Healer hands."

"Sorry about that."

"Such a liar. No you're not."

"No, I'm not," Nico agreed. "You were being stupid."

"Well it takes one to know one, di Angelo."

"I don't sacrifice myself pointlessly."

"No, you don't care why you sacrifice yourself."

"And you do?"

"I don't want to die."

Nico didn't say anything, and Will wondered, with a stab of fear, if he had gone too far.

"I don't want to die," Nico repeated thoughtfully.

Will let out a long stream of air. He didn't want Nico to die either.

Nico shifted again. Will clutched his shirt tighter. "Can we just . . . stay here like this? Just for a little bit?"

"Solace."

"Please?" Will held his breath.

Nico made a huffy sound of dissent, but he didn't move.

Will breathed.

Yay! You made it through to the end! Now your prize - you get to leave a nice review in that box down there! Go crazy, people.