Nico

Everything hurt. Every bone, every muscle, every inch of skin. My ears were ringing faintly, and spots danced across my vision as I tried to sit up and failed. Slowly, the spots cleared and I realized I was laying flat on my back staring up at the sky in a bomb site. Probably one of Leo's disasters meant for monsters. I heard someone calling my name very faintly, as if they were far, far away.

The face of a tanned boy with bright blue eyes and golden hair framing his features hovered over me with a panicked expression. His mouth was moving, and he called over his shoulder to somebody, but I couldn't hear what he said. Everything faded into black and I descended back into Tatarus.

Will

The bomb was huge. So loud, I'm sure they heard it in China. But as I rushed to the scene to check for the wounded, I realized that this is where Nico had been not five minutes ago. The thought spurred me to run faster towards the explosion.

"Nico!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Nico!"

I rushed all over the field trying to find him, and when I finally did, he looked halfway to death. His right wrist was bent at a funny angle and there was a huge piece of shrapnel protruding from his lower left ribs, nowhere near his heart, thank the gods, but it was still bleeding severely. He had a nick on his forehead that dripped dark red blood down the side of his face. I peered over him, checking his pulse. He was still alive. I called over my shoulder for help and a few of the other Apollo campers came running over with a stretcher. When I turned back to him, he had closed his eyes.

"If you die, Nico Di Angelo, I'm going to kill you." I muttered as we hefted him onto the stretcher. He was surprisingly heavier than he looked.

〰

It had been nearly four days and while I had helped the other campers, Nico had been our main priority. Most of the other campers had gotten far enough away from the blast in time to only get a few broken bones, but Nico had been three steps too close. We had taken out the piece of shrapnel as soon as we could, and bandaged him as quickly as we could. He had a pretty rare blood type, but we managed to find an O- and hook it up to the machine so he wouldn't die. Currently, I wasn't entirely sure whether I should be angry at him for nearly getting himself killed, or relieved that he was alive and not dead.

When he woke up, I decided I could be angry at him later and immediately enveloped him in a tight hug. "Will," his voice was hoarse, and barely more than whisper of air. I leaned away, knowing I was probably squeezing him to death.

"Sorry. Thank the gods you're alive Nico, I was so worried."

"Everything hurts." He groaned, closing his eyes in pain. I nodded and forced a square of ambrosia into his mouth.

"That's to be expected when you've had an enormous piece of metal sticking out of your chest and a concussion." I replied, giving him a look.

"Mmhm..." He drew in a breath, and didn't wince, but I could tell he was holding it in.

"How long have I been out?" He asked, slowly moving his hand towards mine. I took it gently.

"Four days." I answered solemnly. "And you've got a broken wrist." I added, gesturing to his right hand.

He shifted his head enough to look at it, then turned back to me. "And I suppose I'm going to get a two hour long lecture about not dying sometime soon?"

I smiled. "When you're well enough to breathe that it doesn't hurt." I replied. He frowned, but nodded.

"Okay." He agreed quietly. We continued chatting for awhile longer, and then I changed his bandages and told him to get some sleep. Surprisingly, he listened to me and fell asleep within the minute. The wound in his side was healing, but slower than I would've liked.

〰

Nico woke up with a jolt at about five in the morning and groaned in the pain of the movement. I was asleep, but I'm a pretty light sleeper, especially when I have a patient in extreme conditions.

"What— yep, I'm awake, no more chocolate." I muttered. Nico had tears streaming down his face, but he managed to give me a weird look.

"Nico? What's wrong?" I asked, helping him lie back down.

"N– nothing, I'm fine." He stuttered.

"Nico, what is it?" I pressed. He looked at me, his eyes wide with fear.

"I– I was– and there were demons– and they– they killed–" he was unable to speak anymore and curled up in a ball. A very shaky ball. I sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his back.

"Nico, you're here now. It was just a dream. It can't hurt you, okay?" I told him, playing with his shaggy hair.

He didn't answer and I pulled him into my arms, being careful of the tubes attached to him. "It's okay Nico. You're okay." I murmured. He shifted against me, burrowing into my chest.

"Don't let me fall asleep again, Will. Please." He whispered. I nodded and told him, "I love you." He nodded against my chest. "Ti amo troppo il mio sole. Non smetterò mai di amarti , non annche nella morte."

"What does that mean?" I asked curiously. "It means I love you too. On a loose translation." He answered, not looking up. I pressed my lips to the top of his head and held him closer.

"I never new so many words could mean so few." I mumbled in reply. He shifted enough that he could look up at me and kiss me on the lips, which I was surprised by, because Nico isn't usually one to initiate this sort of thing. But I kissed him back and then pulled away.

"Go to sleep Nico. You need to rest." I told him lovingly. I saw the protest in his eyes as I got up. "I'll be right here. I won't leave for a second, I promise." He relaxed and let himself stretch out, gasping in pain as he did so.

"Just relax your body and your mind." I told him, running circles down his neck and back with my thumb. His muscles loosened beneath my hand and he let me lower him back onto the bed. He grasped my hand though, before drifting off to sleep, and I didn't bother prying it away.