WILL SOLACE ONE-SHOTS

FADE AWAY

I have never lost a loved one, so I apologize if Will's reaction is inaccurate.

Will sat at his desk, filling out paperwork. He could hear Austin singing in another room, his voice echoing through the halls. Will smiled to himself.

Nico appeared in the doorway, agitated and rubbing his ears, as though they wouldn't stop ringing. The distress in his face was concerning, and Will stood up. "Nico? What's wrong?"

"I think something happened...Your mom--"

The door opened, and Chiron came in. His expression made Will tense. "Will, I have bad news."

He stood up. "What is it?"

Chiron hesitated, then said, his voice painfully gentle, "Your mother... she passed away this morning."

It took a moment to sink in.

The room spun. Will braced himself against his desk as shock crashed over him, then grief. Tears filled his eyes, and he turned away. He will not cry in front of them.

"How?" was the only word he managed to choke out.

It was Nico who answered. "I... a car accident. It was quick. She barely felt a thing."

Footsteps, then his siblings were pulling him close, whispering that it would be okay. He wrapped his arms around them and allowed the tears to fall, allowed the grief to rip him apart.

His mother was gone.

☀️☀️

In her will, Naomi Solace had given her house and finances to her only child. Will was stunned, barely able to think past the revelation that she was gone from this world.

Nico shadow-traveled Will to his house. When they materialized in front of it, Nico was silent for a moment, then said, "I could stay here, or..."

"No." Stepping away from him, Will stared at the house. "You can go back. I'll call you."

Di Angelo nodded, sympathy gleaming in his obsidian eyes, and faded into the shadows.

For a moment, Will stood there, frozen. Then, step by step, he forced himself to the entrance of the house, of his house. With shaking hands, he opened the door, its creaking horrifically loud in the silence. Stepping into the entry hall, he scanned his surroundings.

For an alt-country singer, the house was modest. A few pictures decorated the walls, in different positions from what Will remembered.

He had visited a few months ago, just for a few days. He faintly remembered his mother's voice as she sang and laughed, remembered her kiss on his cheek and his embarrassed complaint of it.

If only he had known that it would be the last time he saw her...

Shoving the memories aside, he walked into the living room. Naomi must have had someone clean it. It felt sterile, empty, erased of her touch.

An acoustic guitar sat in the corner. His boots muffled on the carpet, Will approached the instrument, then picked it up, the familiar weight in his hands a comfort. He played a chord, then frowned at the sound. It was out-of-tune.

Will wasn't as talented as Austin when it came to music, but he was a good guitarist. More than good. Naomi had taught him guitar. He remembered sitting next to her, pressed against her side as she showed him the notes and frets and chords.

Biting his lip at the memory, he turned-- and froze. On the coffee table was a familiar red folder. He snatched it up, nearly spilling the contents.

Sheet music. Some songs that he had learned in his youth, some well-known songs of Naomi's. He stared at the notes and titles, then hugged the folder to his chest as tears slipped down his face.

☀️☀️

Will tore through the house, searching top to bottom, scouring for so much as a scrap of more music. He hoarded every last bit he could find in the folder. In his mother's bedroom, he discovered a green notebook containing hastily scribbled songs-- some completed, some not. He took it as well, shoving it into his backpack.

He found copies of his mother's albums in an abandoned room, then a CD player and a speaker. He played every single song as he paced the house, tears streaming down his face at his mother's lilting voice. The voice he could now only hear in her recordings. He sat on the couch and lost himself in memories of what used to be.

He had arrived at the house around ten A.M.-- but now it was close to sunset.

He needed to get back.

He took the folder, notebook, and albums with him in his bag. Naomi's guitar was slung over his shoulder; he had found the case and strap for it, along with some ancient music books on how to learn. He had played out of those books when he was young.

He took a final look over his shoulder at the house, then turned and walked away, a bit numb but glad.

☀️☀️

It was almost a month before he sold the house.

At that time, the funeral had been held long ago. He had come in his finest suit. He didn't remember much, except crying upon seeing his mother's body. Watching as the casket was lowered in the earth. Leaving a bundle of hyacinths on the headstone, singing one of her songs under his breath. His uncle, who had taken care of the funeral, had playfully tugged at his ponytail and told him to cut his hair. The action had brought a ghost of a smile to his lips.

After the funeral, Will had come back several times to the house. He didn't take a lot of things, merely content to walk around.

"Did my mom go to Elysium?" he once dared to ask Nico as they shadow-traveled back to camp.

Nico was silent for a moment, then said, "Yes. I-I talked to her ghost once, actually. Your mother was a good woman, Will."

"Is she happy?" The question was barely a whisper of breath.

"She's sad that you're alone, but she is content with where she is in the afterlife. She doesn't want you to be sad that she is gone." Nico shifted his weight, then said, "I can... summon her ghost if you want."

Will shook his head. "No, thank you. It won't help me move on." He smiled at Nico. "Thank you for offering. And if you ever see her again, tell her--" his voice threatened to give out, but he persevered. "Tell her I love her, and that her legacy lives on."

It was true-- Will had found countless lit candles in his mother's honor on the house's doorstep, and fans had offered sincere condolences.

What he also wanted to tell Naomi was that Austin was going to help him finish the uncompleted songs in her notebook. That he played her guitar at the campfire. That he listened to her songs and sang them.

But for now, that simple message of I love you was enough.

I made Naomi into this monster in one of my other fanfics and I feel bad about it. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been busy.
This was sad, but at least it wasn't scary. That's an improvement.
Random question: Does Will actually have freckles, or is that just the fandom?