A Reason to Stay (Solangelo/Willco)

II. Rise and Shine

        Nico woke up slowly.  First he noticed a deep, dragging ache in his chest, as if his heart was straining to keep up its beat.  Then he felt a stabbing pain behind his eyes as he opened them too quickly, a shock of light after a long, dark sleep.  He had been too exhausted even to dream, he thought, although come to think of it, there had been something... he seemed to remember the feeling of sunshine on his cheek, the warmth permeating areas that had been so cold for so long, he'd forgotten they could be anything else.  He slammed his eyes shut again, suddenly feeling hot and sticky, like his blood was made of boiling mud.  He felt a little groan escape his throat as he curled in on himself, unable to clear his head, to think straight...

        Distantly, he heard the scrape of a chair, and then felt something so foreign, he flinched away before he could realize what was happening – a hand was brushing his forehead.  So gentle.  So smooth.  It seemed to wash away the sick, rotting feeling in his chest, make the air breathable and the light bearable again.  Nico blinked hesitantly, testing the waters, and found that his vision had cleared now, and he could see, standing above him, a pair of blue and gray eyes surrounded by a halo of golden hair, Will's hand still resting on his forehead, stroking back his sweaty hair, spreading a pleasantly warm feeling, like a summer breeze, through his body.

        And then Nico snapped out of it, his heart leaping into his throat as he realized that someone was touching him, and he was just lying here like some imbecile.  He leapt back, banging his head against the wall and tangling himself further in the sheets, gasping, staring up at Will with big, scared eyes, as if he had been hurting him rather than healing him.  His head started to throb where he'd hit it, and he looked down and away, ashamed of his weakness, and his panic, and gods, he probably didn't smell too great, and here was Will, perfect the-whole-world-is-my-best-friend smile in place like always, only a crease between his eyebrows revealing something else going on in his mind.  He was probably trying to hide his disgust, Nico thought, although for just an instant, he almost let himself believe that it might be concern on Will's face, rather than repugnance.  He squelched the thought; no one but his sisters had looked at him with anything bordering on "concern" for as long as he could remember.  Fear, perhaps, or anxiety, but no, not concern, not for Nico.

        He flinched again as he felt Will touch his arm, but he managed to restrain himself this time, no matter how foreign it felt, no matter how pathetically comforting... 

        "Woah there, Death Boy.  I'm just trying to help.  It's okay," Will said in a soothing voice.  Nico could almost hear the slight smile playing across his lips as he leaned towards him, closer, closer... "Look, can I just check you out?  I mean, um, that came out wrong, I just meant, um, you're my patient, and you've been asleep a long time.  I just want to make sure you're doing all right."

        Nico looked up, startled at the tone of his voice.  Then again, it was his job to heal people; he probably talked to all the injured campers like this.  But looking into his eyes, Nico was sure he saw something besides the usual doctor-patient expression of detached worry.  He looked so intense, so determined to fix Nico up, to make him feel better.  Slowly, he nodded at Will, forcibly relaxing some of the tension in his shoulders and neck, disentangling himself from his blankets and scooting to sit at the edge of the bed.  

        Will smiled again, and to Nico's surprise, sat down next to him, only a few arbitrary inches of space separating them.  Will took Nico's hand in one of his own, using the other to take his pulse, and Nico felt an all too familiar wrenching in his gut at the casual contact.  No, he cursed himself, I'm not going down this road again.  I just got over Percy, and it's not like Will would ever be any more interested in me than he was.  He focused on his breathing instead of the hand held in Will's, in and out, in and out, not too fast, good, deep breaths bringing fresh air into his suffocating lungs.  He screwed up his eyes, turning his face away from the boy sitting so calmly on the bed next to him.

        Will dropped his hand, and Nico suddenly felt inexplicably cold.  "Hey," Will said, "did I hurt you?  Are you feeling all right?  Do you need to rest a bit more?"

        "I'm fine!" Nico spat, "Just leave me alone, will you?"  He stood up, but as soon as he did so, a wave of dizziness crashed over him, making him stumble and almost fall down.  As if he hadn't already made enough of a fool of himself.

        Now Will definitely looked concerned, there was no way he was imagining it.  He stood up and caught Nico around the shoulders, supporting him as he guided him back to the bed and sat down beside him once again.

        "You're clearly not 'fine'," Will admonished, "and besides, you're not going anywhere.  You promised me three days in the infirmary, and you've only been here two so far."

        Nico couldn't seem to summon up the energy to argue.  He just looked up at Will, realizing that he couldn't possibly hold himself up for another second, and slumped against his chest, shutting his eyes quickly so he wouldn't be tempted to search out the look on Will's face – was it worry, or horror, or perhaps something else, something gentle and kind and forgiving?  Nico hunched his shoulders as Will wrapped his arms around him, holding him loosely enough that he still felt like he could breathe, but tight enough that he knew he was there, and that he wasn't planning on leaving him any time soon.