Archive of Our Own

Nico may have really gone too far this time.

In his head, L.A. to Baton Rouge wasn’t that big a jump. He’d certainly gone much greater distances in a single leap before — without Reyna’s help, even, in the past few years. Even when he pushed himself a little too hard, the shadow sickness never lasted more than a few days, and then he’d be back on the job again. But he guessed he hadn’t been keeping very good track of his own stamina lately, because a whole human being had literally just walked right through him on the sidewalk. She hadn’t even turned to look at him after. It was like he was already gone from this plane of existence.

Fuck, Nico thought. Dad’s gonna be pissed.

For the past few weeks, he’d been on the trail of some spirit that had snuck past Thanatos’s border patrol. Nico didn’t know what the guy had done to deserve eternal torment in the Fields of Punishment, but his father was greatly displeased that he was loose. This was what Nico had been doing with his time for the past three years: a junior Fury, errand boy for the Lord of the Underworld, the chthonic intern that took care of the grunt work that was too far below the station of Megaera, Tisiphone, and Alecto. Except instead of coffee, he was sent to retrieve expired sinners who got their kicks haunting graveyards and psyching out teenagers with Ouija boards. Once, Nico had helped save the world from total destruction and fascist reincarnation. Twice, actually. And a third time, it was just New York, but still. These days he was reduced to spending his time and considerable power doing this bullshit.

And now he couldn’t even carry out the spiritual equivalent of chasing wasps with a butterfly net, because he’d ignored his limits yet again.

What would Will say? his brain prompted, a thought that only broke through his mental wards due to his current state of dissolution.

It was a rainy night in Louisiana. At least it seemed like it was, if that blurry gray static wasn’t just the shadow sickness. Nico flailed a hand out, his palm landing hard on an iron lamp post. It was wet. Rain. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to focus on not throwing up, on suppressing the swelling feeling of his tongue and the sudden overproduction of spit in his mouth. Despite his best efforts, his knees buckled and hit the pavement a split second before a wave of vomit tore out of his throat and splashed into a muddy puddle in the gutter. Sucking damp air into his lungs with an audible wheeze, Nico tried to ground himself. The rain was warm, but the metal pole was cold. His hair was soaked, plastered to his face and the back of his neck. His knees hurt and might be bleeding. There was a sticker on the lamp post beside his hand with a picture of a weed leaf on it.

He curled over himself and retched again, and this time there was blood. Every time he thought he was done, he hurled again, until enough blood was splattered on the pavement around him to resemble the scene of a violent crime. Nico’s head whirled, suspended in that sickening, dizzying moment before losing consciousness.

Is this how I die? Nico asked himself. He could almost hear his neurons fizzling out like blown circuits. I survived an assassination attempt by Zeus himself, I survived that stupid jar, I survived Tartarus twice, and this is it? Underworld workaholism?

He was kidding himself, he knew. None of those things compared to the closest he’d felt to death. That would be the look on Will’s face the last time he let go of Nico’s hand three years ago.

If he was always going to go out from shadow sickness, it should’ve been from trying to see Will Solace one more time, not from chasing around a B-list poltergeist with a leash. If he could muster the strength to make one more jump, would Will want to see him before he died? Or maybe Nico would live to see another gods-forsaken day — his ex-boyfriend happened to be the only person on the planet who knew how to treat advanced shadow sickness. He might be upset about it, but knowing him, he’d probably be angrier if he found out that Nico had kicked it alone on a sidewalk in Louisiana, surrounded in mud and blood and puke.

He had to try. He had nothing to lose except his dignity and maybe his life, both of which at this point were already forfeit. Nico clenched his fists against the wet cement and forced himself to stand. He almost hit the dirt again immediately when his vision and his guts lurched grotesquely at the shift in posture. He knew the Chicago hospital that Will was a resident at, but could only pray that he was on shift tonight. Gripping the lamp post for dear life, Nico bid the shadows to surround and deliver him, maybe for the last time. From beyond the watery light of the lamp, the night snaked toward his feet and dragged him down into its darkness.

Nico could feel the molecules of his body ripping apart and shedding back into the ether of Chaos that they’d come from, and wondered absently which parts of himself he would never get back. Before he could get too existential about it, the shadows spat him out in the back of the waiting room at Northwestern Hospital’s ER. He instantly collapsed, his body colliding painfully, and loudly, with the linoleum. If the waiting room staff felt any confusion about where the scrawny, soaking wet, twenty-eight year old man with bloodstains on his sleeves had just come from, it was overtaken by their duty as health workers. A couple of nurses rushed to his side, one gripping his wrist to feel his pulse.

“Can you hear me, sir?” the other asked.

Nico licked his bloody lips, and with the last of his conscious strength, he rasped, deliriously, “Solace. Will Solace. Get Will Solace. Please. Will Solace. Will Sola…”

Abruptly, he lost the fight against the overwhelming pull toward the empty darkness of Chaos.

Will was already having a lousy week. Not that the past few years in med school had set a very high standard of wellbeing, but usually the bullshit didn’t pile up quite so high all at once. He’d been on shift in the ER for the past seven days in a row, which had run him ragged. Two separate patients had threatened him in the past few days, with one actually making a swing at him before Will had left the room. Another patient, discharged last month, had made the connection that this medical resident was the son of music star Naomi Solace and had somehow gotten his personal phone number. Will had been blocking calls left and right, and as a result had missed an important call from the bank about his overdrawn account, so now he was a few hundred dollars in the hole. And on top of everything, his cat wasn’t eating his special kidney-health food that Will had shelled out painful amounts of cash for, and if he didn’t start eating it soon, Will might be facing a veterinary kidney procedure that he did not have the funds for.

He knew, intimately and on a molecular level, how bad smoking was for the body. He prayed to his father, the god of health and medicine, to have mercy and grant him this one vice without giving him cancer. He knew how completely hypocritical the habit was, but some days, it felt like the only way he could breathe was through the end of a cigarette.

He was on a two-minute smoke break when his fellow resident, Alexandra, busted him.

“Will!”

“I know, I know,” Will sighed, crushing the butt under his orthopedic shoe. “I have saline bags to change and opioids to administer. I’ll be right there.”

Alexandra shook her head. “Forget that. Front desk staff have been looking everywhere for you. A critical patient just showed up and asked specifically for you.”

Will furrowed his brow. “By name?”

“By name,” Alexandra nodded. “It seems urgent.”

“Fuck,” Will groaned. “It’s that guy who’s obsessed with my mom. I don’t have time for this.”

“Sorry,” Alexandra said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “Wish I could get you out of it.”

Will scanned his ID badge and pulled open the metal door back inside. “’Sfine. If you don’t hear from me by the end of the day, I’ve been murdered by a stalker.”

As soon as he was back in the building, a nurse shepherded him down the hall and into one of the many ER suites. He met up with the attending physician, who was scowling at a computer monitor beside a curtained room. She looked up, her posture slumping in relief when she saw him. “There you are. Someone just collapsed in the waiting room, and I honest to god can’t figure out what’s wrong with him. He asked for you before he fainted. Do you know this man?”

Will grit his teeth as he drew aside the curtain, mentally preparing himself for an unpleasant interaction. But when his gaze landed on the unconscious figure on the bed, his heart dropped at terminal velocity. Yes, he knew this man. He knew the battered Docs, the ripped grey jeans, the studded leather sword belt, the bony frame, the feathery black hair. He knew the scars dragging across that face. He knew the intangible transparency to his papery skin, that menacingly thin tether.

“Nico,” he gasped, a sound punched out from his chest. His attending forgotten, Will rushed to the bedside and grabbed a cold, pale hand. The vertigo swell of clear shadow sickness overwhelmed him, and he had to let go. It was alarmingly advanced, so intense that it stirred up a storm of panic in Will. Nico had only let it get this bad once before in all the time Will had known him, and that was on the day the Earth Mother rose. Will remembered those three days, when he’d tried everything in his arsenal of medical knowledge to stabilize the son of Hades. He never wanted to use that knowledge again, but now it seemed he had no other choice.

He stared down at the blank, unconscious face. It hadn’t changed at all, gaunt and dominated by Nico’s strong features. His cheek still bore remnants of those scratches Will had healed so long ago. Will brushed his knuckles across it. Nico’s skin was icy. “What have you done?” Will whispered.

He’d meant what he’d said all those years ago. No matter how estranged things were between the two of them, there was no universe in which Will would ever turn his back on Nico when he needed him.

Waking from unconsciousness was disorienting enough under normal circumstances, but emerging from a magical, phase-shifting shadow state was akin to falling asleep during World War II and waking up in the twenty-first century. And that wasn’t a hypothetical comparison. It was like the Fates themselves had used their knitting needles like chopsticks to pluck Nico out of one period of time and plop him gracelessly into another.

Which was why he could be forgiven for, upon opening his eyes and seeing a blurry head of blond hair, reaching his arms out like a toddler and croaking, “Will. Caro mio, come to me.”

At the sound, the person turned around with a start, and Nico saw that it was not Will but a female nurse updating his chart. She approached him, scanned his face, scanned the heart rate monitor he was hooked up to, then asked him how he was feeling.

Nico frowned. “Is that a joke?” he rasped.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

“Not going anywhere.”

When she left the room, Nico took a moment to pause and let time catch up to him. As reality sank in, his gut twisted tighter and tighter with mortification at what he had said upon waking. The gods were not normally kind to him, but he silently thanked whichever one of them had spared him the humiliation of saying that to his actual ex-boyfriend. They probably figured he’d been humbled enough, anyway. No point in beating a dead horse.

He was deliberating whether he could manage sitting up without losing grasp of his slippery state of consciousness when the door opened again, and a breathless Will Solace stepped in.

“You’re awake,” he gasped.

Nico stared at him. He looked like shit. He was beautiful, of course, there was no version of Will that wasn’t breathtaking, but he was clearly running on fumes. The divine blood of Apollo lent his disheveled curls a persistent golden luster and his baby blue eyes a brilliance that couldn’t even be tarnished by the bruised-looking skin dragging below them. He had glasses now: large, opaque white frames that were currently halfway down the bridge of his perfect nose. As unkempt as he appeared, Nico shuddered to imagine what he looked like right now. Yeah, di Angelo, drag yourself half-dead to his place of work spattered in filth and various bodily fluids. That’ll show him what he’s missing.

Will crossed the room to his side and fell into a plastic chair, his eyes never leaving Nico’s face. “You’re…you’re alive.”

Nico broke his gaze. “Because of you,” he murmured. “Again.”

Will ducked his head with a shuddering sigh, his hands dangling limp between his knees. A moment passed in stillness before his shoulders began trembling, and Nico had seen Will cry enough times that he knew what this was.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, at a loss for better sentiments.

Will didn’t respond, his hands coming up to cover his face as his breaths hitched.

“Will, I’m sorry,” Nico tried again. “I didn’t know what else to —”

Will suddenly jerked his head up. “Are you?” he snapped, a tear racing down his reddened cheek. “Are you sorry, really? Because this is the exact same shit you always do! This is the whole reason why I — why I had to —” He cut himself off, but Nico knew what he meant. “Do you have any idea how long you were out?”

Nico shook his head. “I don’t know, a day?”

“Five days!” Will nearly shouted, sounding hysterical. “Five days, Nico! Do you know what that was like for me?”

Nico didn’t answer. His mind had caught on hearing Will say his name for the first time in years. The lyre of Orpheus couldn’t have sounded sweeter, even if it was spoken in anger.

“Five days of seeing you lie there like you’re already dead, five days of reapplying nectar to your face so that you didn’t literally disintegrate out of existence, five days of knowing this is the deadliest condition I’ll ever have to treat and it’s happening to the last person I can stand to lose.” Will took a breath. “Five days of unrelenting anxiety that I would fail you for the last time.”

Nico felt his own eyes getting hot and prickly. “You never failed me, Will.”

“Apparently I did!” Will glared at him. “Because if anything I ever said meant a damn thing to you, then you wouldn’t have done this to yourself again.”

Nico tried to swallow the tears building up behind his eyes. He deserved every word, he knew he did. “I shouldn’t have brought myself here,” he said meekly.

Will huffed, touching his fingers to his forehead. “No, I’m glad you did. I’m thankful you came to me. No one else would’ve been able to help you.” He lowered his hands and leaned forward, trying to catch Nico’s eye. “But gods dammit, Nico, when are you going to stop? What is it going to take?”

His implication was clear. Nico bit his lip until it hurt, hating himself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, pathetically.

Will sat back with a heavy breath, and silence stretched between them for a few moments. When Will spoke again, his voice was much weaker, like an exhausted animal that had been hunted for too long. “Why do you think I broke up with you?”

Nico squeezed his eyes shut, his heart breaking at the recollection. “Because you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Will said.

Nico hesitated. “You didn’t want me to see you anymore.”

“I didn’t want you to shadow travel to see me anymore,” Will insisted. “I couldn’t stand to see you hurting yourself for the sake of our relationship.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Nico said, palms turned to the ceiling. “I risk Zeus’s wrath if I fly, and traveling by road invites monsters from far and wide to come and fuck with me.”

“You could’ve just waited for me to visit.”

Nico scoffed. “What, twice a year? Once you started med school, you had no time for visits anymore. That wasn’t enough for me, Will. I lo— I missed you when you were gone.”

The look Will gave him made him feel desolate. It was the look of a person watching some poor idiot make a choice that they knew was the wrong one. Pity, regret, contempt. It only lasted for a second, though, disappearing when Will looked down at his hands. “After I left you, my one consolation was that you wouldn’t have a reason to push your powers beyond your limits anymore. But look at you,” he said, gesturing to the bed. “Now I don’t even have that small mercy to cling to.”

“Then stop looking at me,” Nico said. “Discharge me, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Where will you go if I discharge you?” Will asked. “Do you have a vacation home in Chicago I don’t know about?”

Fuck, right. He couldn’t just teleport back to his room in Hades’s palace unless he wanted to kiss his mortal coil goodbye. He shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ve lived on the streets before, and I can do it again.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Will said, removing his glasses so he could rub his eyes. “I have a couch. You’ll stay with me.”

Nico scoffed. “Uh, no, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.”

“No, Will. You’ve done enough for me already. I’m not staying at your place.”

Will cocked an eyebrow at him. “Would you rather stay in the hospital?”

Nico considered. “Kind of?”

“Too bad. The last thing I need is a monster attacking the hospital because it can smell a son of Hades who’s too weak to fight it off.”

Nico fell backwards on the bed and flailed his arms in the air. “Fine. Whatever. Have it your way.”

Will insisted on pushing Nico in a wheelchair to his car in the parking lot, and then letting Nico lean on him from the car to his apartment building. Nico’s face burned the entire time, partially because he was ashamed to need help for so little, and partially for…other reasons. Putting his weight on Will’s arm, he could smell his familiar scent. It was close enough to his memory for his heart to squeeze with longing, but still, there were some new elements. The astringent odor of hand sanitizer was something Nico had associated with him since they first met, but now it was accompanied by the unmistakable smell of tobacco smoke. Nico frowned. Maybe he had a coworker that smoked.

Once they’d shuffled together to Will’s third-floor walk-up and Will was searching for his keys, Nico was suddenly gripped by the fear that perhaps Will didn’t live alone. What if he had a roommate? Or a partner? Oh gods, Nico should never have agreed to this. Technically it wasn’t too late to throw himself over the banister and escape. Will fit the key into the deadbolt and turned, stepping inside with an affectionate, “Hi, baby!”

Nope, Nico couldn’t do this. He tugged his arm out of Will’s hold and stepped back from the door frame like it was a salt line and he was a demon.

“We have a guest. Come say hi,” Will said to whoever was inside.

Gods, please, no. Nico turned around and got ready to run.

“Meow.”

He stiffened.

“Good boy,” Will cooed. “Did you miss me, little guy? Have you been bored?”

Nico turned slowly to look at the orange and white cat that was weaving between Will’s shins in the entryway. A burden was lifted from him so abruptly that he almost fainted again. Tentatively, he stepped inside, bending down to offer his knuckles for the kitty to sniff. The animal took his time considering Nico, then decidedly rubbed his cheek firmly against his hand.

“You got a cat?” Nico asked, still crouching so he could pet him between the ears.

“Yeah,” Will said, reaching over Nico’s head to close and lock the door. “I got — I got lonely.”

“Oh,” Nico said softly. He heard the rumble of purring as he scratched the kitty’s chin. “What’s his name?”

Will hesitated, and Nico looked up to see him biting his lips. “Don’t laugh.”

“No promises.”

Will sighed dramatically, then said, “Jules-Albert.”

Nico snorted. “No fucking way.”

“I missed that stupid zombie, okay?”

Nico cackled as he stood up and joined Will in the kitchen. “I’ll pass along your sentiments.”

Will regarded him a moment, his lips curved in a slight smile that Nico would dare say was fond. Then he shook his head slightly and ushered Nico to the couch. “Sit down. Doctor’s orders.”

Nico obeyed, taking in Will’s apartment as he did so. It was small, but it had a separate bedroom, so Will could’ve done worse. The kitchen was a single strip of appliances along one wall, with hooks under the cupboards to hang Will’s eccentric mug collection. He had an old-fashioned coffee pot that looked like he could’ve dug it out of someone’s garbage bin, and the sink as well as the drying rack beside it were both piled up with plastic dishes. The beige, cat-scratched couch was big enough for three people to sit side by side, but barely. A fleece Star Wars throw blanket was heaped on it, and the black helmet of Darth Vader was covered in white cat hair. A dented pine coffee table stood unevenly in between the couch and the small TV, its surface occupied by empty takeout containers, protein bar wrappers, and half-empty cigarette packs.

“You don’t smoke, do you?” Nico called as Will turned on the coffee pot.

Will shrugged. “Guilty.”

Nico scowled. “Those things will kill you, you know.”

Will turned to face him, a hand on his hip. “Oh, really, Mr. I-Nearly-Teleported-Myself-To-Death? Please tell me about other behaviors that could kill me.”

Nico coughed. “Okay. Point taken.”

Will waved a hand. “Don’t worry. I get lectured enough by my mom.”

Jules-Albert hopped up onto the back of the couch, settling onto Darth Vader’s face. “How’s she doing?” Nico asked.

“She’s good. Retirement’s been treating her well,” Will said, pouring coffee into a pair of mugs, one in the shape of a Minion and the other bearing the words “Chaotic Bisexual” as though it were a metal band logo. He sat down on the other end of the couch, handing Nico the Minion one, to his distaste. Will took a sip. “She was worried when she heard what happened to you.”

“You called her?”

“’Course. She cares about you a lot.”

“Oh,” Nico said under his breath.

A profoundly awkward few minutes stretched between them, punctuated only by quiet sips of gross coffee. Then Jules-Albert yawned, apparently snapping Will out of some sort of trance. “Are you tired?” he asked Nico.

“Always,” Nico said.

Will huffed a laugh. “Same. Why don’t you go to sleep, alright? Your body needs rest.”

“It’s, like, four PM.”

Will cocked his head. “I’m sorry, did you have evening plans?”

Nico defiantly sipped his coffee. “I don’t feel like sleeping yet.”

“Do you trust me to dictate your medical care or not? Bed’s that way,” he said, indicating the door with his head.

“What? No, I’m not taking your bed. If you want me to sleep, get off the couch.”

Will narrowed his eyes. “Nico di Angelo, don’t make me curse you.”

“Jeez! Okay, fine, I’m going,” Nico said, setting his Minion mug on the counter beside the sink. He hesitated before turning the bedroom door handle. “…Goodnight, I guess.”

“Goodnight,” Will said, without turning around on the couch.

Nico cleared his throat. “Um. Thanks, Will. For saving me. And for letting me stay with you.”

Will looked over his shoulder and met his eyes with a small smile. “That’s the first time you’ve said that since you woke up.”

Blushing, Nico turned away and ducked inside the bedroom. Once the door was closed, he flicked on the floor lamp beside it, lighting up the space. Will’s clothes were strewn all over the floor; Nico felt bad that Will hadn’t gotten the chance to clean up at all before he just crashed back into his life. A tiny desk was shoved in one corner, a dark-screened laptop surrounded by scattered clinical studies atop it. The wall above it was covered in sticky notes with reminders scrawled in Will’s familiar handwriting. Blackout curtains draped the windows beside the full-size bed, which to Nico’s eye seemed too short for Will’s considerable frame. Nico ran his hand over the mint gingham-patterned duvet, feeling like he might cry. Somehow, even after spending the afternoon with Will, standing here alone in his bedroom was the closest he’d felt to him in years.

He stripped to his boxers and got under the covers, and then it really was too much. He couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, emotions flowing over him like waves. Fuck the near-death experience, seeing Will again was what would break him. He curled in on himself, surrounded by the heartbreaking smell of the man sitting right outside the door, and cried like a child until sleep overtook him.

Will liked to think he owned a comfortable couch, but he couldn’t sleep on it. Not that night, anyway, not when Nico di fucking Angelo was on the other side of a thin wall. He laid there, his head on one end and his legs dangling off the other end at the knee, staring at his cheap popcorn ceiling and wallowing in an emotion that could be best described as aching.

To say he had gotten used to Nico’s absence from his life would be a falsehood, but having him here was jarring nonetheless. His mom had absolutely freaked out when he called her, which definitely hadn’t helped with his efforts to remain calm during the days when Nico was out.

“But he’s…he’s gonna be okay, right?” she’d asked, almost as though she didn’t want to know the answer.

“I don’t know, Mom. I’m doing everything I can.”

A sound of pity reached him from the other end of the line. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”

Will pressed a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob, and he slid down on the wall in the hospital hallway until he reached the ground. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen,” he’d croaked.

“I know, baby,” his mom said. “It’s hard for you to see him like this.”

“It’s hard for me to see him at all,” Will cried. “What am I supposed to do?”

Now, Will rubbed his hand over his face as he sat up, just before sunrise. Jules-Albert trilled as he leapt down from the couch, his paws hitting the hardwood floor. He sat by his empty dry food bowl and meowed pointedly. Will dragged himself upright, threw out the untouched plate of special wet food from yesterday, and prepared him a new one. He set it down, and Jules-Albert sniffed it experimentally before looking back up at him and meowing again.

Will pointed at the wet food. “Eat it. Please, man. I’m begging you.”

He ate a piece of toast and drank a cup of coffee as quietly as he could, then went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and take his meds. When he couldn’t put it off any longer, he shuffled up to his bedroom door and knocked lightly. “Nico?”

He heard some sort of garbled moan from the other side.

“Sorry. I have to get a change of clothes. I’m coming in, okay?”

When he detected no protest, he went inside, using the flashlight of his phone to pick through his drawers for a clean set of scrubs. He set them on the couch outside, then figured he should check on Nico before he left. He turned his light on the bed and felt his heart tremble at the sight — Nico was curled up on his side, the entire duvet gathered around him like a cocoon. The top of his head poked out, resting on Will’s pillow, his tangled black hair splayed across it. A crowd of memories spilled forth, hundreds of mornings when Will had seen Nico sleeping just like this, except usually Will was waking up from beside him in the bed. He closed his eyes, shoving the heartache aside, then leaned down. “Hey, I need to check your vitals before I go. Can I see your hand?”

Nico groaned with displeasure, but momentarily, a pale arm was thrust out from the pile of blankets. Will wrapped his fingers around his wrist and breathed deeply. Heart rate normal, body temperature normal, blood pressure a little low but not concerningly so. Shadows on the surface where they belonged, not penetrating cells and vaporizing parts of him. He couldn’t detect any signs of fever or illness.

He released Nico’s wrist. “You seem okay. Will you be alright if I leave for the day?”

Nico refused to open his eyes. “Fine,” he whined.

“Okay,” Will whispered. “Just…don’t leave the apartment, because I only have one set of keys. Drink fluids. Do you have a phone?”

Nico shook his head into the pillow.

Will sighed. “I’ll leave mine here. If there’s an emergency, call Alexandra Turner. She’ll know how to find me. I’ll write down my passcode for you.”

Nico grunted in understanding.

Will straightened up and left the room, pausing at the door. “Bye, Nico. I — I’ll see you later.”

Something else almost slipped out of his mouth, but he caught himself. It wouldn’t have mattered — Nico was already snoring again.

Cat Jules-Albert was much friendlier than zombie Jules-Albert. Which was kind of a low bar, as Nico had learned so many ancient Greek swear words from his undead chauffeur’s road rage that he could’ve made Chiron swoon with dismay. But Nico found he and the cat had an innate understanding of each other: they mostly left each other alone, and that mutual respect for their own space built up a nice rapport.

“Nice wet food,” Nico remarked while Jules-Albert sat next to his food bowl and stared at him with big green eyes. “It looks expensive.”

Jules-Albert had no reply.

Nico had been awake for four hours and was officially bored out of his mind. He didn’t care for TV, and the only books Will had lying around were either pulp fiction sci-fi or medical journals. He wondered when Will would get back; he couldn’t remember if he’d told him this morning.

He eyed the phone on the coffee table. Underneath it was a green sticky note that said:

Passcode: 7777
In case of emergency call Alexandra Turner
I’ll come back with food and clothes for u

Nico appreciated that last thing — he’d had no choice but to borrow a set of Will’s sweats, since the clothes he’d been wearing when he arrived at the hospital were pretty disgusting. This was far preferable, but even so, Will was much taller than him and his pant legs had to be rolled up four times to fit Nico. He didn’t think about how wearing Will’s clothes again made him feel. There was no point in thinking about it.

He picked up the phone and entered the (stupid) password. Both Will’s lock screen and home screen were pictures of his cat. As he scanned the apps, he considered doing a bit of snooping. Not extensively, just to see if Grindr or Tinder or whatever dating app was popular these days was downloaded. His thumbs hovered over the touch screen as he warred with himself, but after a beat he dismissed the idea. Will could do whatever he wanted, and if he’d met someone surely he would tell Nico at some point. Surely.

Instead, he pulled up the phone app, found Hazel (her name flanked by a horse emoji on one side and a diamond emoji on the other), and rang the number.

She picked up on the second ring. “Will? Everything okay?”

“It’s me.”

Silence for a beat. “…Nico?”

“Yep.”

He could almost hear her blinking. “Explain.”

Nico chuckled, then did as he was asked. He caught an earful from his sister about the shadow sickness, and he assured her that Will was way ahead of her on the “yell at Nico for risking his life” agenda.

“Thank the gods you’re okay,” she sighed. “I need to buy Will flowers or something.”

“Sure, go ahead. Show me up,” Nico deadpanned.

Hazel scoffed. “Oh, were you gonna buy him flowers?”

“I might’ve. At some point.”

“The guy single-handedly yanked you out of Death’s grip, Nico. You should be asking him to marry you. At this point I’m convinced he’s the only person equipped to handle you long-term.”

Nico picked clumps of cat fur off the couch. “Stop it, Hazel.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you’re serious.”

“I’ll keep saying it until it sinks in for you,” Hazel insisted. “You guys shouldn’t have broken up.”

He sighed. “It wasn’t exactly up to me. But in Will’s defense, I kind of gave him a good reason.”

“What reason? The long distance?”

“The shadow travel, Hazel. You know this. It was stressing him out, we fought over it a lot towards the end. But, you remember how I — I missed him so much when he was gone,” Nico lamented, recalling how his heart had felt like a vacuum back then, collapsing his chest further with every month he had to spend alone, without Will. “It stressed me out to not use shadow travel to see him.”

Hazel paused, and when she spoke again her voice was softer. “Then he shouldn’t have moved so far away for university.”

Nico scoffed. “I wasn’t the kind of boyfriend to prevent him from going where he wanted,” he said. “He was so excited when he got into Northwestern. I could never have taken that from him.”

“But he knew that you couldn’t leave Camp Half-Blood,” Hazel pointed out.

Nico groaned at the circular argument. He’d been over this with Hazel countless times — his reluctance to depart from Camp Half-Blood, even to be with Will, was a hallmark of the first few years of their long-distance stint. There were the practical reasons, of course: a powerful son of Hades tended to draw monsters wherever he went, and camp offered a relative sanctuary from that life-threatening pressure. But there was also a deeper, emotional component. Nico had spent much of his childhood lost and uprooted, homeless even when he had a roof over his head. It had taken a few months, but in the time after the Giant War, Camp Half-Blood had gradually become the home that he’d been searching for. It was the first place he had belonged to since he was a little boy living with his mother in Venice. Nico wasn’t ready to give that up, even for Will.

And Will wasn’t the kind of boyfriend to demand sacrifices from him, either.

Nico scraped a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter now. And you know what, I don’t need this lecture from you, you haven’t had a steady relationship since you dumped Frank.”

Hazel’s eye-roll was almost audible. “That was years ago, Nico. And besides, this is different.”

“How is it different?” Nico demanded, flicking one of Jules-Albert’s orange ears between his fingers.

“Frank and I weren’t right for each other. We got close when we were questing together, because trauma bonding will do that to you. But that’s what’s special about you and Will — you chose each other freely, on purpose, when you had other options and your lives didn’t depend on each other. Ask Piper, she’ll tell you the same thing about why things didn’t work out with Jason.”

“I’m not sure asking Piper about Jason is a great idea.”

Hazel sighed. “Well then, take my word for it. She and Jason didn’t work together. Frank and I didn’t work. You and Will work. You always have. You should be with him, there’s no good reason to keep him away.”

Jules-Albert nipped at one of Nico’s fingers, and he scowled. “You know you’re preaching to the wrong guy, right? Will broke up with me.”

“And I’d happily tell him how stupid he was for that, except you told me not to.”

“Yeah, don’t.”

“I won’t,” she promised. “But someone has to talk some sense into him, and you’re the closest person to him right now. Think about it, Nico, will you? You’ve suffered enough for one lifetime, and I’m telling you that you don’t have to suffer over this. Try to fix it, for everyone’s sakes.”

Will came home just after six PM, three reusable shopping bags swinging from his forearms. Both Nico and Jules-Albert perked up at the sound of entry, and Nico instantly stood to take bags from him.

“Those are clothes for you,” Will said when Nico offloaded a rainbow-striped Ikea bag. “The selection at Goodwill was a bit limited, but I tried to get stuff you’d like.”

“Thanks,” Nico said, rifling through the contents. He was touched that Will had found a Motionless in White t-shirt for him.

“And I brought some ingredients to make dinner,” Will continued, toeing off his shoes. He set the other two bags on the kitchen counter, leaning down to greet the cat.

“What are you making? I’ll help,” Nico offered, starting to unpack the food. Rice, frozen veggies, tofu, and a bar of chocolate at the bottom of the bag. Nico pulled it out and saw that it was a Kit-Kat bar. He closed his eyes, tucking the candy to his chest for just a moment before remembering to act normal.

“Fried rice, and no you won’t,” Will said, stretching his arms over his head. “Just give me a few minutes to shower and change, then I’ll get started on food.”

“Will, you’ve done so much for me lately. You’re obviously exhausted. I can take care of this.”

Will shot him a glare. “Yeah, and you almost died last week. I win. Sit your ass down and hang tight.”

Nico’s scowl went ignored and Will disappeared into the bathroom. Nico defiantly did as much prep as he could while Will’s shower lasted, pressing the tofu and starting the rice cooker, but unfortunately Will took freakishly quick showers. It was probably a result of being head counselor of Camp Half-Blood’s second-largest cabin for five years, but it was incredibly inconvenient at present. He was done in what couldn’t have been even five minutes.

Somehow, Nico hadn’t mentally prepared himself for seeing his ex-boyfriend half-naked and dripping wet. He casually looked over his shoulder, only to be slapped with an eyeful of bare skin, and he feared he did not tear his gaze away at a purely platonic speed. His chest was as gorgeous as it had ever been, with the sun tattoo over his left pectoral…and the twinkling star he’d gotten a few years later above the right to, in his words, “complete the set.”

“Sorry,” Will stammered, hurrying into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself. Nico caught sight of the back of his neck turning red and felt comfort that he wasn’t the only human mess in this apartment.

When he emerged, he was wearing a red t-shirt with the words “Very Manly Muppet” in large font and a pair of navy blue pajama pants. He wasted no time in shooing Nico out of the kitchen and taking over the meal. They let some time pass without conversation as the skillet popped and sizzled, and Nico sat on the couch watching Will’s back as he worked.

Abruptly, he said, “You didn’t get a cover-up.”

Will halted and looked at him. “Huh?”

“The star,” Nico said. “You didn’t cover it up.”

Will swallowed, holding his gaze with an unreadable expression. He shook his head minutely. “No, I didn’t.”

The cicadas sang autumn all through the strawberry fields, a steady backdrop to the melodic song of two teenagers in love. Will had brought a gray blanket out to their secluded patch, and was lying back with his face to the sky and his boyfriend on his chest. Every few minutes, Nico raised his head for berry-sweet kisses, humming in satisfaction as he settled back down over Will’s heart.

“I don’t want to lose this,” Will said, unprompted. The rumble of his voice in his chest warmed Nico’s whole body.

“I know. It’s so peaceful here after summer, when everyone’s at school.”

Will bit his cheek. “That’s not what I mean.”

Nico propped himself up on his elbow. “Which is?”

Will put a hand on his cheek. “You. Us.”

Nico’s brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, then he seemed to realize something. “You’re thinking about Hazel and Frank.”

“I mean, we all thought they were so perfect. If they couldn’t stay together…”

Nico shrugged. “According to Hazel, they weren’t that perfect. Between you and me, she’s had doubts about their relationship for a long time.”

Will frowned. “I guess…”

“And they’re not us. We’re different people. I’m not thinking of breaking up, are you?”

“Of course not,” Will assured him. “I love you. I can’t imagine that ever not being the case.”

“Then we don’t have anything to worry about,” Nico said with a smile. “Because I love you too, and I always will.”

They laid back down then, but it was only a few moments before Will spoke up again. “But say it did happen…”

Nico groaned. “Could you lighten up?”

“Gods forbid,” Will swore, ignoring the protest. “But if we did ever have to part ways…you know you’ll always have me, right?”

Nico rolled his eyes affectionately. “Yeah, yeah, you big sap.”

“I mean it, Nico,” Will said, suddenly gravely serious. “No matter what happens in the future, you can always come to me. Because I can promise you now that I will care about you until I die.”

Nico felt his heart melt and puddle in his stomach, and he reached forward and pulled Will into a soft, lingering kiss. He pressed his cheek to Will’s and whispered, “I promise, too.”

The second night that Nico slept alone in Will’s bed, he noticed something glinting on the bedside table right before he turned out the lamp.

He reached out and brought it close to his face, but before his eyes focused on it, he knew exactly what it was just from the texture.

It was Bianca’s skull ring. Still strung on a golden chain.

“I have the day off today,” Will said between bites of toast the next morning. “I have to read a clinical trial study later, but I have some free time.”

Nico blinked at him over his mug (which bore a cartoon of a frog wearing a rainbow sweater beside the words “gay frog” in flaming text). “Okay,” he said, noncommittally.

Will cleared his throat. “If — if you’re feeling better, would you maybe be interested in seeing Chicago today?”

“Oh.” Nico felt his little brain demons screaming, like a date?! but he drowned them in an ocean of denial. “…Sure.”

“I mean, you don’t have to,” Will rushed to say, before taking a sip from his own mug (“World’s Best Grandpa”). “Only if you want to. In case you’ve been bored in here.”

“I’d love to,” Nico said, stopping his anxious blathering. A light flush spread across Will’s cheeks, and Nico had to fight the urge to lean over and kiss them. “Is there a natural history museum? I do enjoy seeing interesting skeletons.”

A brilliant grin broke on Will’s face, as bright and welcome as the dawn.

“That’s a lot of taxidermy,” Nico said.

“Yeah. Kinda creepy, aren’t they?”

“I thought you liked creepy,” Nico said effortlessly, only realizing after the fact that he was flirting.

Will smiled and ducked his head, too bashful to answer.

Nico couldn’t bear to have that smile hidden. “Want to see if I can commune with the dead zebras?”

Will pushed his shoulder, laughing. “No, stupid. With our luck, they’d turn out to be chimeras in disguise or something.”

Nico shrugged, moving on. “Might liven things up a little in this corner of the museum.”

They fell into easy lockstep with each other, laughing at each other’s dumb comments, making their way through the Field museum at an unhurried pace. More than a few times, the backs of their hands brushed against one another, and Nico started doing it on purpose, wondering if Will would put distance between them. He didn’t.

“That one looks like you,” Nico said, pointing at a wax mask representation of a Neanderthal.

Will pursed his lips in consideration. “Rugged, strong…a flattering comparison,” he decided. “Though he’s much too beard-y. I couldn’t look like that if I tried.”

“Still no facial hair, huh?” Nico mused. In the later years of their time together, Will had become determined to grow a beard, just to prove that he could. After months of horrible, patchy, uneven stubble, Nico finally begged him to shave.

Will shrugged. “Apparently it’s not uncommon when your dad is the god of young men and bachelors. Have you ever seen a statue or painting of Apollo that wasn’t clean-shaven?”

Nico thought for a moment. “Can’t say I have.”

“Exactly,” Will said. “What about you? Any brave forays into the world of facial hair?”

“Could you have phrased that any stranger?”

“Would you like me to try?”

“Please don’t,” Nico said, giggling. He breathed. “Nah, me neither. I considered it, but it just looks weird with my scars. Nothing grows over them.”

Will hummed in understanding. “It’d be a shame to hide them anyway. You always liked how they looked.”

“Yeah,” Nico agreed softly. So did you, he almost added.

“What about…other stuff?” Will ventured as they moved onto the geology section.

“What other stuff?”

Will gestured vaguely. “You know. What else have you gotten up to in the last three years? Any…updates?”

Nico snorted as he examined a display of turquoise. “Will, if you want to know about my love life, just ask.”

Will deflated, rubbing his arm. “Yeah, sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything, I know it’s really none of my business anymo—”

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Nico interrupted, a teasing curl to his lips.

“Oh,” Will breathed, wide-eyed. “Oh, okay. Cool. That’s cool.”

Nico raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, not that I want you to be, like, alone forever,” Will blurted. “If you had someone, I’d be — it would be fine, I’d just — ” He cut himself off, slipping his fingers under his glasses to press his eyes. “Oh, my gods. Why am I still talking,” he muttered.

Nico laughed at the poor guy’s expense, ambling over to look at some fool’s gold. “I tried a few times,” he admitted. “Nothing ever stuck.” He turned to face Will. “What about you?”

“Me neither,” Will said through a sigh, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I never even tried, though. You know, med school, no time, all stress…not the best circumstances to try and meet people.”

“I get it,” Nico said, meeting his eyes. For a moment, they just looked at each other, slight smiles and searching eyes.

“Oh! Hey,” Will said, suddenly remembering something. “You want to see a really interesting skeleton?”

“Hell yeah, I do.”

Will led the way through the exhibits with Nico close behind him until they stood before an enormous fossilized T-Rex. Will spread his arms toward it, announcing, “Behold, Sue! The pride of Chicago!”

“Whoa,” Nico said, gaping as he approached the dinosaur. “This may be the most interesting skeleton I’ve ever seen.”

“Thought you’d like it,” Will remarked. “Fun fact, paleontologists don’t know the sex, so Sue has they/them pronouns.”

Nico nodded in interest. “Nice. Diversity hire for Jurassic Park.”

Will burst out in laughter, doubling over like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his life. Nico felt his heart beat faster, relishing the sound he’d been deprived of for so long. Will straightened up and met his eyes, and there was no trace of pain or disappointment behind them, pure mirth outshining all the shadows of their past.

Oh, yeah. This was definitely a date.

They got home in the mid afternoon, sitting on the couch and catching up while Will played true crime documentaries on the TV in the background. Jules-Albert would not stop purring, walking back and forth between their laps anytime one of them stopped petting him.

Hours later, when Will got up to use the bathroom, he passed by the cat’s food bowls and gasped dramatically. “He ate his food!”

Nico sat up and looked over the couch in disbelief. “He did?!”

“It’s gone! He ate it all!” Will ran over to the cat where he was perched on the back of the couch, picked him up, and hugged him. “That’s a very good boy! I’m so proud of you!”

“I wonder why he finally gave in,” Nico mused.

With a big smooch on the center of Jules-Albert’s fuzzy forehead, Will released the disgruntled kitty. “I dunno,” he said. “I haven’t been around that much since I started him on his diet. Maybe he just needed me to be with him when he tried something new.”

Nico hummed, watching Jules-Albert indignantly grooming himself in the corner.

If Will closed his eyes and focused, the sounds of cars passing on the street outside his window could almost be mistaken for waves hitting the shore. That usually worked when he couldn’t sleep — tricking himself into thinking he was somewhere more peaceful than he actually was. It had been a useful skill when he was a year-round resident of Cabin Seven, and during the weeks after Tartarus when nightmares kept him up, and during his freshman year of college, when his roommate had sleep apnea.

But it wasn’t working tonight.

He laid there on the couch, wide awake, thinking about how fucked he was. He’d never managed to fool himself into thinking he’d moved on from Nico, but now the fact that he was still completely in love with him was staring him in the face, demanding acknowledgment.

Things had felt so easy, so fluid and effortless, with him over the past few days. It was like they had only spent a week apart, not several years. Dragging Nico back from the edge of death notwithstanding, their dynamic was shockingly normal, and if he wanted to, Will could almost pretend that they were still dating like nothing had happened. They had been talking, teasing, borderline flirting, and making each other laugh just how they always used to. And gods knew that Will was still hopelessly attracted to Nico — even in his relative state of poor health, he radiated beauty that was both unconventional and undeniable. His dark hair was kept long (the way Will had always liked it), his frame was strapped with lean, powerful muscle, and his face still had that dark, magnetic intensity lent by his scars and his heavy brows.

Will turned on his side and groaned into the pillow.

He forced himself to remember why he’d ended things. Nico was too reckless, risking his life just to see him. And no matter how good it felt being around him again, he couldn’t lose sight of the fact that their reunion only happened because Nico hadn’t learned to value his own life any more than he did back then.

But…didn’t that also mean that breaking up with Nico hadn’t done anything to protect him from this sort of thing? What had been gained over the past three years as a result of this split, aside from heartache and suffering?

Will ran a hand through his tangled hair. He was considering turning on another crime documentary, muting the sound and reading the subtitles, when the bedroom door cracked open.

“Will?”

He sat up and saw Nico in the doorway. He was wearing the red flannel pajama pants Will had bought him, but his chest was bare.

“You okay?”

Nico hesitated, then said in a soft whisper, “This bed is big enough for two.”

A thrill rocketed through Will’s chest, turning over all his organs like pinwheels. He swallowed dryly. “Are you sure?” he whispered back.

Nico met his eyes and nodded.

Slowly, softly, like he was trying not to scare a wild deer from his backyard, Will rose from the couch and approached Nico. When they were face-to-face, Nico held out a hand.

Will took it.

They laid down together, spreading the comforter evenly across their bodies, though Will was sure it would end up piled on Nico by morning. They turned onto their sides, facing each other, and Will laced his fingers through Nico’s upturned hand.

For a long, long moment, they just watched each other’s faces. The light was gray and dim, but Nico’s round, dark eyes found his own with a clear focus. Their breaths mingled. Will didn’t dare close his eyes.

“I want to stay,” Nico breathed.

“Here?”

Nico nodded. “With you.”

Will blinked rapidly, thinking. “What — What about —”

Nico shook his head. “I know I chose to stay at camp when you left for university. You remember what I said to you back then?”

“That you weren’t ready to leave camp, just when it had started to feel like home to you.”

A slight, sad smile flickered on Nico’s face. “Yeah. That feeling was all I had wanted for such a long time, I would’ve done anything to cling to it a little longer.”

“I’d never ask you to give that up,” Will whispered.

“I know,” Nico said, and Will could hear the quiver in his voice. “But when you left me, I couldn’t bear to stay there anymore. We’d spent so long there together, I couldn’t go anywhere without seeing you.” He paused, looking aside. “So I took my chances in the Underworld in the hopes that my father might replace what I’d lost.”

Will felt a pang of self-loathing pierce his chest. “Gods, Nico, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to…”

“It’s okay,” Nico assured him, his voice creaking with strain. “It helped me realize something important.”

Will squeezed his hand, waiting for Nico to gather his words.

“I was so stupid, Will,” he said, the first tears spilling over. “It wasn’t Camp Half-Blood that filled that hole in my heart. The destination that I’d been waiting for so long to reach — it was never a place.” He met Will’s eyes, that black intensity at full force. “It was you.”

A soft sound escaped Will’s throat. “Nico…”

“You were my home, Will, all along,” Nico confessed, trembling, clutching Will’s hand like he was scared of falling if he let go. “I know I’m in no position to ask you to take me back, I know I’ve been nothing but a burden on you this past week, but I have to ask you if there’s any way you’ll have me because I never want to leave your side again, and I —”

Nico’s words were stifled by Will’s lips closing on his, his trembling stilled by Will’s arms pulling him close. Nico sank into his embrace, an emotional sound slipping from his lips before he pressed them back against Will’s. He reached up and buried his hands in Will’s hair, his body squirming in efforts to press closer. Will soothed his hands down Nico’s back, feeling privileged to touch bare skin the way he would feel holding a priceless artifact from ancient times.

Kissing Nico again after three years was like finally lying down in a soft bed after a grueling day on his feet, like seeing the Milky Way stretch across the sky after years of city dwelling, like dragging himself onto a warm, dry beach after a night spent treading water. He fit his lips against Nico’s and it was like unlocking the door and coming home.

“I love you,” Will gasped when he could steal a breath. He was glowing now, casting a golden shine on Nico’s face. “I love you, and I’ve never stopped.”

Nico sobbed and tucked his face into the side of Will’s neck. “I’ll die loving you, Will Solace.” He pressed his lips to the soft skin there, whispering with palpable affection, “Night Light.”

Will kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his lips. “Stay with me.”

Nico put both hands on Will’s face, forcing their gazes together. “Really?”

Will nodded. “I want you with me. It’ll be different, but we’ll figure it out.” He pressed a deep kiss to Nico’s mouth. “I can take anything as long as you’re with me. I should never have pushed you away.”

“I understand why you did it,” Nico said. “I — I shouldn’t have scared you like that.”

Will stroked his cheek with his thumb. “Will you keep yourself safe? Don’t make me save your life again, okay?”

“Okay,” Nico whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “Okay, caro mio.”

Will fell back into him, kissing and touching and being touched. They spent the next while reacquainting their bodies, only to be interrupted by insistent scratching at the bedroom door, accompanied by concerned mews.

Will laughed, tucking his forehead against Nico’s collar bone. “Jules-Albert wants us to stop.”

Nico tsk-ed. “Homophobic cat.”

Will was overcome with giggles, overwhelmed by affection, floored by gratitude. He gazed at Nico’s returning grin, peace spreading through him knowing that it would be far from the last time he got to see it.