Solangelo One Shots

The Doctor and the Dumbass(p2)

@Blessed_by_Hypnos requested a part two of last week's one shot and I was more than happy to deliver, so I hope you like it!

Will's POV

The air is cool and he wraps his arms around his chest, shivering slightly as he stands outside of the roller skating rink, scanning the area for the mop of black hair that's become so familiar. His tee shirt is thin and it wraps around his body, hugging it as the wind twists the fabric. He checks his phone for a text from Nico; they had exchanged numbers once he had been discharged, his head in a considerably better state. But there's nothing; no sign of a missed call, no text explaining why he's twenty minutes late. 

Will sighs, shoving his phone back into his pocket and leaning against the brick wall of the roller skating rink, his arms crossed over his chest. He knows that the inside is warm, and the pounding of the music would block out any of the thoughts running through his mind, the questions, his insecurities. His stomach grumbles, and he remembers Nico's promise that once they got inside they'd get bad nachos and soda that would slosh in his stomach as they skated. But he has to stay outside; it's what they agreed on. He turns his ringer on just in case, even though he doesn't think Nico will call. 

Nico's POV

There's blood everywhere. Streaming out of both nostrils and into his cupped hands, splashing onto his shirt, dripping down onto the concrete. This is his nice black shirt, the best one he's ever owned. He doesn't know how he managed to miss the pole directly in front of him; he had been bent down over his phone, texting Will to let him know that he was a five-minute walk away. The next thing he knew his nose was colliding with the pole, his phone shattering against the sidewalk. 

Amid the bloody mess, he falls to his knees, one hand still cupped underneath his nose as he scrambles to find Percy's contact. The smashed screen underneath his fingers is rough, broken glass slicing into his finger. But he manages to call Percy, listens to the ringing, prays that he picks up. "What?" 

"I need your help," Nico says, watching the blood pool in the crevices of his hand. It's deep red, and he fights the urge to gag. Despite the number of times he's seen his own blood, from scraped knees and accidental gashes in his arm, he's never gotten used to seeing it in front of him, so regular yet so disturbing. "I'm on Maple Street, by the McDonald's. Can you come to get me?" Percy's breathing is crackling over the speaker and the audio is tinny, and Nico knows his phone is about to die. 

"Why?" 

"Bloody nose. Please, Percy." He hears Percy heave a sigh, and he yells something to Annabeth. 

"I'll be right there." 

"Thanks. Bring tissues." He hangs up, groaning and taking a seat on the ground, resting his head against the very pole he smashed his head into. His nose is pulsing but it doesn't feel broken like it did the last time because when he looks at it in the black screen of his phone it's mostly straight, the bones in place. Once he's almost sure it's not broken he makes a move to text Will. He'll get there twenty minutes later and they'll laugh about the whole thing as Nico wears a clean but not as nice black tee shirt. But when he tries to turn on his phone only half of it lights up, green lines blossoming out from where the source of the crack is. Nico groans, letting his head lean against the pole until he begins to feel the blood drain into the back of his throat and he almost chokes on it, picking his head back up and waiting, lightheaded, for Percy to arrive. 

"You're really dumb." 

"I know." 

"And on the way to a date, too?" 

"Shut up, Percy." 

"You can't go five minutes without-" 

"I said shut up, Percy." Nico holds the tissues to his nose, pressing hard. In the time it's taken Percy to get there it's slowed, but blood still blooms onto the tissue, staining it red. There's still a stain of blood on his hands, dribbled down his shirt and in his back pocket, the glass of his phone screen hangs on by a thread.