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Archery in The Woods

Dawn painted the sky in hues of rose and gold, a stark contrast to the turmoil within Will. He hadn't slept, haunted by the image of Nico's tear-streaked face and the echo of his own cruel words. The camp bustled with renewed activity, the lingering effects of the eclipse a distant memory for everyone except him.

He felt hollowed out, a shell of his former self. His usual sunny disposition had been replaced by a leaden weight that dragged at his every step. He needed an outlet, a way to channel the storm of emotions churning within him.

With a heavy heart, he made his way towards the archery range. The familiar feel of the bow in his hand offered a sliver of comfort, a grounding force in the chaos of his emotions. He nocked an arrow, aiming at the distant target.

As he drew the bowstring back, a dark blur crossed his vision. Panic surged through him. He hadn't heard anyone approach, his blurry eyes clouded with unshed tears. Without fully aiming, he released the arrow.

A choked cry pierced the air, a sound that sent a jolt of pure terror through Will. The arrow, meant for the target, flew off course, embedding itself with a sickening thud in the chest of a figure emerging from the trees.

"Nico!" Will's scream tore through the morning air as he sprinted towards the fallen figure. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the terror in his mind.

He skidded to a halt beside Nico, his knees hitting the damp earth with a sickening crunch. Nico lay sprawled on the ground, a hand pressed against his injured chest, his face contorted in pain.

"Oh gods, Nico, I'm so sorry! I... I didn't see you!" Will stammered, his voice thick with a mixture of horror and relief. Relief that Nico was alive, but horror at the terrible mistake he'd just made.

Nico gritted his teeth, his dark eyes flashing with anger and pain. "Will... what in Hades... ?" He winced as he tried to sit up, but couldn't, as the arrow had pierced his left lung. Instead, he lie back down, coughing, a spray of blood blooming on his lips.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Will had just hurt Nico, again, this time physically. The weight of his actions settled on him like a suffocating shroud. He reached out a hand, but stopped short, afraid of causing Nico any further pain.

"I... I can't believe I did that," he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. "I thought... I didn't see..."

Nico stared at him, his gaze cold and distant. The raw vulnerability that had flickered in his eyes the previous day was gone, replaced by a wall of icy indifference.

"Get this arrow out of my LUNG, and never talk to each other again. K? Good." he finally said, his voice laced with a chilling calmness. The morning sun peeked through the trees, casting long shadows across the clearing. The once familiar warmth felt alien now, a reminder of the light Will felt he'd extinguished in Nico's eyes. He had a lot to apologize for, but would Nico even give him the chance? The answer, etched on Nico's face, was a terrifying unknown.

Tears streamed down Will's face, blurring his vision further. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his own legs, he scooped Nico into his arms, the familiar weight a stark contrast to the chilling emptiness in his heart. "Hold on, Nico, I'm taking you to the infirmary. Please, hold on!" He sprinted towards the infirmary, his voice a ragged cry for help echoing through the clearing.

The doors burst open with a crash, Will panting like a hellhound. He cradled Nico in his arms like a precious, broken doll. Nico, pale as moonlight, coughed weakly, a bloody stain blooming on his shirt like a gross, blossoming rose.

"I... he... shot! He got shot!" Will gasped, his voice hoarse with panic. "Arrow in his chest. Please, you gotta help him!"

Kayla, on duty that morning, sprang into action like a ninja on a sugar rush. "Put him on the bed!" she barked, already reaching for the nearest gurney. Austin materialized at her side, his face as grim as a tombstone.

Despite the urgency, Nico's eyes stayed locked on Will's. His voice, raspy with pain, held a sliver of ice that could freeze a lava monster. "Kayla," he rasped, "Don't let him... don't let him work on me. I... I can't trust him."

The weight of Nico's words slammed into Will like a linebacker on steroids. Shame burned through him, hotter than any sunbeam. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Kayla cut him off faster than you could say "Mythomagic."

"Step aside, Will," she said, her voice firm but laced with a sympathetic glint in her eyes that seemed to say, "Dude, major fail." "We've got this."

Will felt numb, his legs turning to lead as he backed away from the gurney like a rejected offering. He watched, a helpless spectator, as Kayla and Austin, their faces etched with grim determination like they were about to face down a particularly grumpy Cyclops, prepped Nico for surgery. They moved with practiced ease, a well-oiled machine honed by years of monster-butt-kicking experience.

Will wanted nothing more than to be there, to hold Nico's hand, to offer some comfort in the face of the excruciating pain that had to feel, well, excruciating. But Nico's words echoed in his ears, a chilling indictment of his actions. He wasn't trusted, not by the one person whose trust mattered most.

He sank onto a nearby chair, burying his face in his hands. Tears streamed down his face, hot and unchecked. It wasn't just the fear of losing Nico, though that fear gnawed at him with an intensity that threatened to turn him into a chew toy for a particularly peckish fearsome beast. It was the realization of the depth of his own betrayal, the knowledge that he had irrevocably damaged the fragile trust they'd been building, like a bull in a china shop made of trust.

The hours ticked by, measured by the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional muffled sound from the surgery room that sounded way too much like swearing, which, hopefully, wasn't Kayla and Austin yelling at each other. Will sat there, a statue carved from self-loathing, reliving his every mistake like a broken record on repeat. He should have listened to Nico, shouldn't have let his anger cloud his judgment like a dyslexic fog monster. Now, Nico's life hung in the balance, and it was all his fault.