The first night was the easiest. Nico, still holding some hope that he was dreaming and wanting to get back to normal life, flung down in his bed and closed his eyes. In seconds, he was sound asleep. But in the morning he opened his eyes to find Percy standing over him, those green eyes seeming to smile. "Come on, breakfast."
Breakfast was just as the day before. Nico stared down at his slop and sat across from Percy and Annabeth. As the two soulmates talked amongst themselves, Nico ate with a glare every now and again at the tasteless food. Nothing seemed to change, and by the end of breakfast, he was dying for something new.
They were just about to get up when one of the operators walked into the room, causing everyone to freeze in their tracks. They watched this humanoid figure, covered in black scrubs, stalk towards the table that Nico sat at with Percy and Annabeth. He pointed at Nico, jabbed him in the chest, beckoned him to follow as he exited the room again. Nico looked at Percy and Annabeth for help, but they only motioned for him to follow as the man disappeared into the hallway.
Nico followed, but only after having to get pushed out of the room.
The metal hallways lacked any and all color, and there was never a window to let any sunlight in. The hallways were lit but no lights were in sight, and the very floor seemed to echo deep beneath its depths. Nico could picture a whole swarm of Scrubs down there, the cloth hiding large ears that listened to everyone walking above. The picture of men with elephant ears almost made him laugh, and a slight chuckle did escape his lips. Maybe this place wasn't all doom and gloom, after all.
"Nico." the man turned to face him and moved a hand to Nico's chest, right over where his heart should have been. "Your first life is over. Your next life will begin in approximately 23 hours. All memories will remain but you should save from sharing them with the world if you don't want to end up in a mental asylum. That wouldn't help the Research."
"23 hours?" Nico crossed his arms and stepped back so the man wasn't touching him any longer. "23 hours?! Are you kidding me? No, nope. I'm waiting here for Will and there's nothing you can do about it."
"Nico. Your first life is over. Your next life will begin in approximately 23 hours." the man repeated. "All memories will remain but you should save from sharing them with the world if you don't want to end up in a mental asylum. That wouldn't help the Research."
Nico bit his lip, kept back a remark. "Is that the only reason you pulled me out here?"
The Scrubs gestured to the door behind him. "Please lay down on the hospital table. You need your operation exactly 20 hours before your new life begins. Please lay down so we can get ready to begin."
Nico clenched his fists, stalked into the room, hoped beyond hope that Will would come before he left. The metal table was cold and the light was too bright, and the red eyes of the Scrubs were unnerving. He laid there, exposed, his eyes closed as he tried to block them out of his thoughts. A mask over his mouth eventually, the whispers to breathe in as consciousness faded away.
20 hours later, he felt himself slipping away again, slipping away from the metal table and slipping away from all that he had known. Slipping, slipping, further away with each second.
Will Solace lived long enough to see them retake Paris but no longer. One of their soldiers were down and he ran to help, having thought he'd be okay. He was okay on Normandy beach, he was okay up until now. He'd be okay. All he had to do was pack the wound and drag this guy to safety.
But not everything happened the way you wanted it to. Nico dying didn't happen the way he wanted it to, his last breath against his lips was terrorizing, feeling his heart stop was scarring. That moment, despite all Will had gone through, had been the worst. It had been the one moment not everything had gone as planned.
The moment of his death would be the second.
"Hold still." Will opened his pack and pulled a couple towels out before holding them to the man's bleeding chest. "You're going to be okay. Just let me get you patched up."
The man was either too out of it to listen or was being an ass. Every second he moved a different way, tried getting away from Will. It took precious seconds away from them, kept them on that battlefield longer than they needed to be. It was because of this that he was in that spot when the cannon went off.
The cannon that took both his legs with it, clean off his body. It brought pain and suffering, but he still didn't expect it to bring him death.
But the blood kept pouring out, and laying over the now dead soldier, Will closed his eyes for the last time, closed his eyes against such a cruel world. The lights flashed and he felt himself floating away, floating away from the pain and sorrow. Floating away from life to find himself on a metal table, surrounded by red and black eyes.