Will's Untold Story

A Percy Jackson Fanfic

By Cracker Stealer

1

So, here it is. My attempt to give Will Solace a character other than "Nico's boyfriend.'' I went back and read every book that he appeared in, gathered as much information as possible, and filled in the blanks myself.

Disclaimer- I don't own PJO

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My hands were about to fall off.

Not literally, of course- I'd been assigned to cut bandages enough times to know that my hands could take a lot more than this. But they were aching, and I was about ready to fall asleep from boredom.

I had been at it for the past three hours. And for the last four days.

It wasn't the work itself I minded- although I could have done without the blisters- but I was surrounded by hurt campers, bleeding campers, unconscious campers, and I wasn't allowed to do anything about it.

I did understand. I had only been at camp for a few days, after all. And Lee Fletcher had told me before I started work in the infirmary (with a hint of guilt) that bandage-cutting duty was assigned to all the newbies. Kind of a learning the ropes/hazing ritual thing.

Thanks a lot, Michael.

In a way, I guess it was my own fault for not being into archery or music or something else Cabin 7 campers are usually into. But I liked it here.

What I did not like was my current job.

I glanced up at a girl a few years older than me. She was sitting on a cot, grimacing, a deep slash down her arm. One of Athena's kids, judging by the bond hair and gray eyes. One of my sisters sat down next to her and began wrapping up her arm.

"How long have you been at this?" I glanced around. Michael Yew, my older brother, was behind me.

"About three hours," I said, trying to keep any hint of boredom or annoyance out of my voice. Remember, you're still new.

He shook his head. "By now, I think we have enough bandages to last us a week." He gently punched my shoulder. "Come on. Time for some real work."

I put down my scissors and jumped up, following him excitedly down the row of cots. He turned around to look at me. "And by the way, you're going to be cutting bandages a lot- it's one of the things we do all the time."

I grinned sheepishly. "I guess I'd better get used to the idea now."

There were worse things than cutting bandages, after all.

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Flashback

The older boy- my brother- placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I know it's hard to believe. And I know how scary it is. But believe me when I say that we've all been here."

I forced myself to look at him, trying to still my shaking hands. He had the gentlest expression I'd seen at camp so far- and the kindest eyes.

I didn't want to leave my mom. I didn't want to come here. I didn't have a choice. But if I had to be here- and I did- I was glad that this guy was my head counselor.

"You're lucky, you know." Lee squeezed my shoulder. He couldn't have been more than a few years older than I was. "Some campers wait their entire lives to find out who their godly parent is. You got claimed pretty quick."

It was true. Less than ten minutes after I arrived at camp, while I was still talking to Chiron, the symbol had appeared above my head. A harp.

A lyre, Chiron called it.

I wanted to cry. I had been trying to tell myself everything would be okay, that I could see my mom again, that I would be able to go back to my normal life- whatever that meant. But here was the glowing, golden symbol above my head, saying this is real and you are not dreaming and you can never, never go back.

My dad. Apollo.

I'd obviously never known much about my dad, as my mom never talked much about him. Mom had told me that they had loved each other, but my dad had other responsibilities. That was okay. And I was only ten. I accepted it.

Now I knew.

They had come for me, the birds with their steely beaks and flashing red eyes and razor-sharp talons. I was terrified. Of course I was. Huddled against my mom, feeling my skin and clothes ripped apart, kneeling on the dirty sidewalk, I was sure I was going to die.

It was my satyr that saved me.

A creepy old guy, sure, but he had protected me from the birds- Stymphalian birds- and I was grateful.

It didn't mean I fully trusted him, though. I had been scared to go with him, scared to leave my mom for the first time in my life, scared that they weren't giving me a choice.

You're alive. You're alive. You're alive.

My mom had held me tight, promising that this wasn't the end, I would see her again, it would all be okay. Telling me to never forget where I came from.

And then I was gone.

But I didn't say any of that. Instead, I followed Lee to his cabin- our cabin, I reminded myself- feeling anything but lucky.

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A boy sat on a chair in front of us, cursing and gritting his teeth through the pain. He was clutching his hand.

Michael gave me an alright, let's see what you can do look. "Can you tell which bone he broke?"

"His proximal phalange. A clean break, in the middle." Then I blinked. "How did I…?"

Michael grinned. "Not bad, for a newbie." Then he pulled a roll of medical tape out of his pocket. "Watch carefully."

It was over in a few minutes. Michael taped the broken finger to the finger next to it. Then- and this was the amazing part- he placed a few fingertips over the break and began singing under his breath, in a language that I had never heard before but still understood.

Just as I began to wonder if I had accidentally joined a choir, I realized that the swelling was going down, the coloration returning to normal, the expression of pain on the boy's face lessening.

Oh, I realized. Healing magic. Okay. This is normal.

Michael stopped his quiet singing and unwrapped the tape. "How's it feel?"

The boy flexed it. "Feels okay. Thanks." He jumped up and headed out of the infirmary.

I glanced at Michael. "What was his name?"

He blinked. "Really? That's your first question?"

I just shrugged. Names mattered, even if it was hard to explain why.

"I'm not really sure," he said. "There are a lot of us, and it's hard to keep everybody's names straight." I made a mental note to learn as many names as possible. "The hymn-did you understand it?"

I stared at him for a few seconds, wondering what a hymn was, before realizing it must have been the healing song. "Oh- yeah. Yeah, I think so. A s- a hymnto Apollo, right?"

Michael grinned. "Right. You'll learn some for yourself soon."

I grinned at the thought of actually getting to heal people myself instead of doing busy work. Then I remembered why all the people were in here. That sobered me up.

Michael seemed to read my mind. "I know- it's scary, at first. But you'll get used to it."

I rubbed my eye. "I guess everything here is scary. You're the second person to tell me that."

He shrugged. "Because so much of this is scary. But like I said, you'll get used to it."

I shivered at the thought. For a brief second, an image crossed my mind- a blood soaked body going limp on the ground in front of me. Remember, it's their blood on your hands.

I pushed the image away. I was only ten, too young for people to die because of me.

I learned the hard way that everyone is too young for people to die by their hands, but it happens nonetheless.

You'll get used to it.

Maybe I don't want to get used to it.

If I help anybody, even just one person...

I pushed all the thoughts aside and followed my brother back down the row of beds.

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Well, I finished the first chapter! I plan on getting out a new one every few days. I'm not sure yet how much of Will's story I plan on telling- I guess I'll know when I get there.