As also suggested by @Litch_
Forgive me if this isn't 100% accurate because I'm still a baby and have never been in war or anything
Working in a war infirmary can be depressing, scary, and really really messy, but knowing that I'm doing my part for the country makes me feel better.
On anormal morning would be getting less than 5 hours of sleep, waking up bright and early, gettting dressed in 2 seconds, and jogging in my skirt down to the hospital full of wounded, dying, or dead soldiers. I spend the rest of my day, and well into the night, doing my best to make the soldiers near death as comfortable as possible and try to prevent as many deaths as possible.
I thought today would be normal, well as normal as my days could be, and nothing dramatic would happen. I was wrong.
A truck full of wounded soldiers came like they normally do, and I rushed down to help with the delicate unloading process. I climbed into the truck and quickly scanned to find the soldier who looked to need the most help. My eyes settled on one particular soldier. His upper body looked fine, a few expected cuts and bruises, but his lower body was a mess. To put it simply, his left leg was completely coated in blood, and his right foot was also drenched.
"I found the worst," I called out of the truck, "He looks like he could lose a leg and a foot if infection gets it." A few men climbed in to get him as I jumped out to help the more functioning wounded men.
I watched as they hurried the man I saw into the light. He wasn't the worst looking person I've ever seen. Despite the sweat and dirt covering his face, I could make out well-defined facial features. His unkempt raven hair flutter over his eyes and stuck to the back of his neck. As he was carried by me, his eyes flutter open. For a brief moment our eyes met, then his beautiful black eyes glazed over in pain.
"(Y/N)!" one of the men carrying him called over his shoulder at me, "forget helping the others off, your skills would be better used in helping this guy!"
"Umm, ya!" I replied and followed closely behind.
He was set in a small room with a single bed that was used for the most critical patients. I watched as a few other nurses partially cut off his pant legs and gently, but quickly, pulled off his boots. I came in to get a closer look as they began cleaning his legs. If he hadn't been but under he would probably be screaming.
"Do we know anything about him?" I turned to one of the head nurses in the room.
"His uniform said 'Nico Di Angelo' but that's about it. Though, if you ask me he looks pretty Italian," she replied. I nodded.
Once he was cleaned up I went to inspect his wounds. (Sorry if this is semi-graphic)
On his right foot, it looked like he was missing his 2 smallest toes, but nothing more than that. His left leg was a mess. The front part of his shin was missing almost all of its skin and his kneecap looked like it was missing the top part of it. His upper body looked fine other than a mild cut on his upper arm that could be fixed with stitches.
I set to work. I easily stitched his arm up and put a little numbing cream over it so at least that wouldn't hurt when he woke up.
"Could you get me a box of badges please," I asked the nurse nearest to me. Even though I was technically a nurse, I was treated like a doctor. I didn't have a degree or the formal training of a doctor so I couldn't officially be a doctor. But because of the overwhelming need for medically talented people, no one really cared as long as we could save as many people as possible.
The nurse quickly returned with a box of badges as I requested. I gently swabbed his lower leg to prevent infection and began wrapping his leg tightly to stop any more blood loss. I didn't know what else to do with the knee cap so I just kept wrapping. I attempted to stitch close his missing toes and wrapped it too.
Now I was just a waiting game.
I spent about 3 hours waiting for him to wake up. He intrigued me and I just wanted to know more about him. I occupied those hours with telling his sleeping body stories. They ranged from classic fairy tails to stories of victory I heard about the war.
I was in the middle of quietly reciting poems I learned in elementary school when he spoke.
"You have a beautiful voice," his voice rasped in his throat.
"Oh gods, you're awake," I started, looking down at his half-open eyes.
"It feels like I'm still asleep," he gingerly rubbed a hand over his face, "Why can't I feel my leg?"
"I put numbing cream around the wound so you wouldn't immediately wake up in pain."
"Thank the gods for that," he almost whispered. For a second I thought he went back to sleep, so I got up to see if I was needed elsewhere.
His hand wrapped around my wrist in a surprisingly strong grip, "Please stay," he practically begged.
So I stayed.
I spent days by his side, reading stories, teaching him poems, and watching him sleep. I thought it was funny that I read to him like he was a child. He didn't seem like a brave soldier that protected innocent people, but there were times when he would slip into his memories and start muttering things about guns and death. I found him with tears on his cheeks a few times, but he always denied it.
Day by day he got better, his leg healed and his foot went back to normal.
"How much longer will I be in here?" Nico asked me as I was re-bandaging his leg one day.
"At best, a week, but you'd need someone to help you change your leg bandages," I distractedly replied as I filled out his weekly report.
"I have a girlfriend that could help me," he replied quickly.
A girlfriend? Since when? Why didn't he mention her to me in the month I spent with him? I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. It never occurred to me that I could have this strong of feelings for Nico. I knew that I had a small crush on him, but I didn't think it would hurt this much to know that he was un-available.
"You're eager to get out of here," I quietly stated.
"Wouldn't you be?" he cocked his head at me.
"I guess," I shrugged. "You can go now," I waved him out with my back to him.
The second the door shut a tear or two fell down my face. After all the time I spent with him I thought he would care more. I collapsed exhaustedly into the small chair by a ratty old desk and sat there. He would be gone in a week and I'd never see him again. My feelings were painfully stong now. How could I get sucked into this so quickly?
This took a turn that I was not planning on taking. So I decided to make this 2 parts because otherwise, this would be way too long, it's literally 1000 words. Instead of making it 2000 words I'll just split it up so my book can have more parts and make me look cooler. Sorry for the lack of any greek mythology, but yep. Hope you liked it.
~Trash xoxo
YOU ARE READING
Dead in Love (Nico x Reader)
FanfictionAll you have to know- you are a demigod (almost always a child of Posiden) I do not own any of the characters unless specified in the one-shot. -unedited-