A baby boy, born to a happy American family in a quiet city in Utah. Nico Gordon, dark hair and dark eyes. By the time he turned ten, he woke up screaming every night from the nightmares that plagued him. He remembered everything, remembered the battlefields and the Facility. He never told his parents, but they worried about him.
He was sixteen when he started to try and find his long-lost soulmate. He looked him up, found that he had died not too long after Nico in that war. Nico looked wherever he could, tried to find a blond by the name of Will. Sixteen wasn't a good year, not in the least.
"Nico? Are you going to come out?" his mother knocked on his bedroom door, her anxiety evident in her voice. "Nico? We're going to that party, remember?"
"Do I have to?" Nico wrapped his wrist with ace bandages before lowering the sleeves of his suit. "Do I really have to?"
"Please? Please, baby? You need to get out of the house. I promise it'll be good for you." her name was Maria, but she was nothing like his first mom. "Okay?"
"Okay." Nico stalked to the door and edged it open, narrowing his eyes against the hallway lights. "But do we have to stay long?"
"No, we don't have to stay long." she kissed his forehead before moving a hand to his shoulder. "Come on, let's not keep your father waiting. He's excited about tonight."
She led him down the hallway, never stopping her ongoing chat with what might as well have been open air. "It's really important for his work, you know. His boss is hosting it. Maybe you could get along with his boss's son? I hear he's been hoping to get into medical school."
Nico kept his eyes on the ground, kept watching each step he took. Left foot, right foot, left. Over and over until he was in the backseat of the car and his marching could finally end. He thought back to his days in the army, thought back to all the marching before. "I hate marching. It was pointless, I think."
"What?" Maria looked back at him with her fake, makeup covered face. "What are you talking about? You've never been in the marching band."
Nico's dark eyes rested on her face before shifting to the floor of the car, taking his attention with them. "Right. Sorry, I'm half asleep."
She watched him for a moment more before turning forward in her seat, her hand reaching to grip onto her husband's. "Okay, Nico. Just try to wake up, then."
Nico sat in the corner of the room and watched the adults mingle, his scowl deep on his face and basically melting into his soul. The music was horrible, the food was horrible, the alcohol was off limits to him. He had fought in a war but he couldn't take a sip of wine. Go figure.
It was after a sip of his pop when he saw him for the first time, when his eyes landed on a boy with a yellow soul and blue eyes. Nico immediately knew the boy's name despite never having seen him in this life before. William. His Will.
Nico stood up before he knew what he was doing, walked over to that boy as if his feet had a mind of their own. When he stopped in front of him, when he met those blue eyes, he felt like his soul was melting into a puddle. "Hi..."
"Um, do I know you?" Will turned to look at Nico in confusion.
"I...I'm Nico." Nico pointed to his own chest as if those words solved everything. "I was Nico di Angelo. Remember?"
"Um...no, sorry." Will scratched the back of his neck. "Have we met before?"
"Have we...have we..." Nico's heart dropped into his shoes and the pain in his wrist suddenly felt more comforting. "You...don't remember? World war 2...the army..."
"Are you feeling okay?" Will sat Nico in a chair before moving his fingers to Nico's neck, feeling his pulse. "Your heart's racing. Are you sick?"
"I thought you were supposed to remember..." Nico's voice was too quiet for Will to hear as he stared at the ground. What now? What was he supposed to do? Finally meeting his soulmate, having to watch from afar as the memories were only held by him?
His heart was beating too fast, his breaths came too quick. The room spun and suddenly he was vomiting, all over the expensive suit his father had just bought him. He needed to get away, needed to get out of Will's view. But there the boy was, trying to help him get steady.
Nico didn't calm down until he was in his father's arms, being carried from the building and into the car. He didn't stop crying until he was laid in the bath, his father using a washrag to get all the vomit out of his hair and off of his skin.
He couldn't think clearly until his father saw his wrist, until he was hugged and hugged for what felt like forever, until he was assured that he was loved. He was loved by his family no doubt, but he wanted to be loved by Will.