Spring Cleaning: A Willico/Solangelo Fanfiction (BoyxBoy)

The Wound

(Will's POV)

"Rise and shine, Nico!" Will sang as he swung open the door to the Hades cabin, letting in the light that Nico had been desperately trying to avoid.

Nico groaned and pulled his pillow over his eyes. "Go away."

Will's shoulders slumped. "C'mon, Death Boy. It's almost lunch. You slept through breakfast."

"I always sleep through breakfast," Nico yawned. "And don't call me that."

Will blinked. "You always sleep through breakfast? Like... Every day?"

Nico grunted in response.

Will shook his head. "Then you're definitely getting up. Come on, up. You have to eat." Will grabbed Nico's left arm, which was hanging over the side of his bed, and tried to pull him off the mattress. He only succeeded on making Nico tumble to the floor.

Will rolled his eyes and looked down at Nico, who was snoring softly at his feet. Will leaned over and wrapped his arms around Nico's waist, hoisting him up and carrying him over to the bathroom. Nico didn't protest.

* * *

(Nico's POV)

Will forced Nico to eat lunch in the dining hall, but he didn't force him to socialize, so Nico decided it could have been worse.

Having eaten very little -- the bare minimum to meet Will's "lunch standards" -- Nico made his way to the arena for sword fighting practice. He trudged inside, waved at some other demigods who were already fighting, and pulled his sword from where it hung on his belt. Approaching a row of mannequins -- or "death dummies", as the Ares kids liked to call them -- Nico calmly stabbed one in the chest.

Ooh, Nico thought. That felt good.

Nico began to lash out on the dummy, letting all his emotions flow from his sword. He only stopped when he decapitated the mannequin, and a fit of cruel-sounding laughter erupted behind him.

"Hey, Ghostie," a familiar voice snarled, "What did that death dummy ever do to you?"

Nico didn't have to look to know who was speaking, but he turned around anyway. "Clarisse," he growled, tightening his grip on his sword.

Clarisse pouted, and the two other Ares girls she had brought with her giggled. "Aww, Ghostie, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you mad! How can I ever make it up to you?"

"Oh, no need to make it up to me," Nico replied sarcastically. If he wasn't angry, he might have laughed. "But... A good-natured sword fight never hurts."

Clarisse grinned. "Oh, I agree, Ghostie. Sword fights settle everything, dontcha think?" She stretched out her arm, and one of her friends handed her a sword.

Nico didn't have time to answer before Clarisse lunged, eager to prove that, once and for all, she was better than Nico di Angelo.

It was an old rivalry, a tension that had been steadily growing between Nico and Clarisse since Nico had decided to stay at camp after the war. Nico was never quite sure exactly why Clarisse hated him so much, but he assumed it was because he was one of the only people who could beat her at sword fighting. And Clarisse was not open to the idea that she was not the most violent person at camp, apparently.

Nico's thoughts drifted, and Clarisse used that to her advantage. She slammed the flat side of her sword into his stomach and sent him falling to the ground.

Shit, Nico thought.

Clarisse laughed and raised her sword above her head with both hands, the tip pointed right at him. She wouldn't kill me, Nico assured himself. She wouldn't go that far... Would she?

Apparently, she would. Nico managed to roll over just before Clarisse's sword slammed through his chest, but he wasn't fast enough. The blade sliced his left arm, and Nico cried out in pain.

* * *

(Will's POV)

Will had been looking for Nico all day. He assumed he'd at least find him in a conscious state.

After looking in every place he could think of for the boy he hadn't seen since lunch, Will was finally ready to give up.

Until Jason ran up to him, grabbed his arm, and began pulling him towards the sword fighting arena.

"Hey!" Will complained as he jogged after Jason, who's grip he was still not free from. "What are you --"

"Nico. Hurt. Need your help. No time to talk," Jason stated, his pace quickening.

When they arrived at the arena, Will decided he would have rather been shot in the head on the way here rather than seen this.

Nico lay in a pool of blood on the dusty ground, unconscious, with a gash in his left arm and two in his right. There was a large cut in his left leg. His black shirt was so drenched in blood that it looked red. It looked like he had a black eye, maybe two, but Will couldn't really tell from where he was standing.

So he ran over to check.

"Nico!" Will cried as he fell to his knees at Nico's side. "Nico!"

By now, people had gathered around to take in the disturbing sight, but Will was used to seeing blood, to say the least. Will checked Nico's pulse, which was fine, and he seemed to be breathing, so that was good. Well... It wasn't bad.

He took a deep breath and turned to Jason. "Help me pick him up. He needs to get to the infirmary. Now."

* * *