Climb (Percy Jackson x Reader)

twenty-three

✺ DOOM AND CURSES AND REVENGE ✺

"(Y/N)?"

The daughter of Persephone bolts awake with a gasp, lifting her head from the plush mattress and sitting up in her chair. Darkness obscures her vision, the dim light that trickles into the infirmary slowly clarifying the edges of her sight. The boy on the bed groans with his jolting determination to move.

(Y/N) squeezes Will's hand, leaning forward and gently pushing his shoulder down as he tries to sit up.

"Hey," she says, frowning at the beads of sweat that glint off his skin in the moonlight. "Go back to sleep, it's okay."

Will stares at her with wide eyes, his breaths quickening as he shakes his head. His hair sticks to his skin, his grip on (Y/N)'s hand nearly tight enough to cut off her circulation. "No, (Y/N), this isn't- it's not—"

"Will, breathe," (Y/N) urges, carefully testing his burning forehead.

"(Y/N), it's not natural, none of it is natural. It's all—" Will hisses, squeezing his eyes shut and lifting his hand to his temple. "I can't—"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," (Y/N) soothes, moving to sit on the edge of his mattress as he begins rambling incoherently. She pushes his hair off of his forehead, combing it back with her fingers and watching as he relaxes. His eyelids droop while his breaths begin to calm. (Y/N) reaches for the towel at his bedside table, and her eyes flash with blue light before it grows cool and damp in her hand. As she wipes at the sweat on his brow, Will sinks into his pillow, his grip on (Y/N)'s hand loosening.

"I don't . . . I can't . . . (Y/N), it's . . ." His words slur, sentences and thoughts swallowed by the encroaching shadow of fatigue. "I don't know what . . . to do."

(Y/N) sighs, returning the towel to the nightstand and gently squeezing his hand. "That's okay, kid. We're gonna figure it out," she whispers, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Go to sleep. I'll be right here."

Soft mumbles escape his lips, his head lolling to the side as he lets out a deep exhale. (Y/N)'s chest tightens as his pulse steadies under her fingertips, his golden curls dim in the silver light that streaks through the windows.

The shadows in the room thrum around her, as if yearning for their power to be used.

(Y/N) doesn't bother. If the most skilled healer she knew had no effect on whatever affliction this was, if he fell victim to it despite his power, there was no way her abilities would do anything.

Instead, she carefully pushes off of the bed, returning to again sit in the chair at Will's side.

She pushes aside her body's desire to sleep, waiting until the sun rises and refusing to let go of his hand.

— x —

As golden rays swathe the infirmary in warmth, glinting off bottles and jars to cast rainbows along the walls, (Y/N) navigates through the maze of the floor, checking temperatures and breathing patterns alongside the other unaffected healers and volunteer helpers. She makes her way to the back of the room, and a small bunch of sunflowers materializes in her hand.

She—tactically—shoves them into a vase, setting them on Will's nightstand. A soft chuckle escapes her lips when the flowers slowly turn to face the son of Apollo, ignoring the eastward sunshine in preference for the boy.

His eyebrows furrow as he dreams, and (Y/N) sighs at the sick pallor to his face.

None of it is natural.

She stuffs her hands in her pockets, looking around the infirmary with a frown. She'd had that assumption at the very beginning, when Lou Ellen was admitted and Will's power couldn't heal her. He'd brushed it off as over-exertion, that Hecate's daughter merely needed rest.