Solangelo One Shots

Three days in the Infirmary

"So, this is the infirmary, huh?" Nico asked. Will turned around with a creased brow.

"Don't tell me you've never been in here before?"

"Well, people don't really want me in the same room as people who are being healed. Being the son of death, and all."

"But what about your injuries?" Will looked horrified. Nico shrugged.

"It's not like I matter. No one really cares about me enough."

"I'm sure a lot of people would take offense to that," Will shook his head. "But gods... I no one checks your injuries after battle... I mean, I only knew about the shadow traveling, but if you have all these other scrapes, then who knows what shape you're in." Will grabbed Nico's hand and led him into one of the more private beds in the infirmary. Nico was surprised that he hadn't recoiled at Will's touch, and that Will knew he liked privacy.

"Lie down," Will said, patting the bed. Nico gave Will his best death stare. Usually it got him what he wanted, but Will's steady gaze never wavered. Reluctantly, Nico climbed into bed, pulling the thin sheet adorned with faded yellow smiley faces over his scrawny body.

After observing Nico up and down, Will gently pulled up Nico's skull printed sleeve and let out a girlish shriek.

"Nico, w-what did you do to your arm?" Nico looked down. His werewolf scratches ha turned a mottled, swampy kind of green.

"Oh, we had an encounter with Lycaon  and his pack," Nico said causally, as if he hadn't been attacked by one of the most powerful werewolves in the world.

"Well, this is going to be a lot harder than I thought it would be." Will picked up Nico's skinny arm. He gave Nico a once over. "Take off your shirt," he ordered. Nico's face blushed the color of a ripe cherry.

"Wh- what?" Nico stammered.

"In order to heal all of the scratches, I have to get at your bare chest."

"Will, there won't be any need to. Lycaon never got at my chest."

"Don't be dense, Di Angelo. I'm a healer, I can tell. Now, shirt off or I'll knock you out and do it or I'll knock you out and do it myself." Reluctantly, Nico tugged the shirt off his body.

"This is just an excuse for you to check me out, isn't it?" Nico muttered. Will said nothing, only staring at Nico's bare upper body. "What?" Nico asked defensively.

"You're way to skinny. You need to eat more," Will noted. "I'll get you some food when u grab the dittany."

"Dittany? Isn't that supposed to sting?"

"Horribly." Will's smile was something like what you would find on a predator about to devour its prey. Nico huddled his blankets around him, partly to keep people from seeing his bare body, partly in a feeble attempt to protect himself from Will's magical medicines of doom.

Ten minutes later, Will returned with some cotton swabs, a small bottle of dittany and a steaming hot bowl of... Ramen noodles?

"Really?" Nico grumped as he accepted the bowl. "You couldn't do any better than ramen noodles?"

"Usually people aren't picky little fourteen year olds like you are," Will responded. "Besides, the infirmary had a budget. The harpies don't cook for us. Now eat. Your skin is hanging off your bones." Nico hadn't realized how hungry he was until the first slurp went slithering down his throat. He devoured the rest of the bowl in under five minutes.

"They always come around in the end," Will smirked as he whisked the empty bowl away. "Now for the hard part." Will sighed as he knelt down next to Nico's bedside with the dittany in one hand and the cotton swabs in the other. There was something in his eyes, something that Nico didn't think he got all that often. Was that... Pity? It couldn't be. No one ever felt pity for Nico. At least, that's what he thought. "This is going to sting. A lot."