Shelter (Solangelo)

Chapter 24

Back in the praetorium room, Nico sits cross-legged at the head of the bed, his back resting against the wall, while Will searches his backpack for a clean shirt. Nico's not sure what to make of Will's changing moods. Moodiness is familiar to him, but seeing it happen to Will almost gives him the sensation of aversion. He's shed that skin and doesn't want to put it back on. But, too, seeing Will struggle, as if he doesn't know how to handle dark feelings, makes Nico wonder if it's not because of him he's feeling them in the first place. He also wonders how much of himself Will poured into him when they rode back from Camp Jupiter after the last shadow jump fiasco. He'd revived Will by giving some of Will's healing back to him. Was Nico's healing kiss tainted?

"You're doing it again," Will says.

Nico looks up. Will's standing at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, eye brow raised, an amused crooked smile on his face. He doesn't look much different than he had during the final battle. "What?"

Will climbs onto the bed, crawls over to Nico and gives him a quick peck on the lips. He turns over and flops down, his head on Nico's legs. His legs are going to fall asleep if they stay like that. He lifts Will's head and rearranges himself so his legs stretch out on either side of Will and Will scoots himself up, his head on Nico's stomach, the top of his hair reaching Nico's chin.

Will answers his question as if no time has passed, taking the conversation pauses in stride, blue eyes looking up at Nico. "You're thinking that my being upset is your fault. It's not. I'm really okay, just not used to all the stress that's been pouring in on me all at once. It's nothing you did."

"Okay," Nico says, not sure if he buys the explanation. He brushes Will's overgrown bangs out of his face and Will closes his eyes, humming contentedly, as if he's an overgrown cat enjoying a pat. Nico indulges him, and pets his hair, looking absently at Will's feet, crossed at the ankles, bare. He notices the staff that had been Will's bow, propped up on the oak chest beside the door. "You lied to me," he says, almost surprised to hear himself say the words. He'd only meant to think them.

Will opens his eyes, they look odd upside down. "When?"

"You told me before you were no good at combat, that you wished you were better with the bow. The way you fired at those targets this morning … You lied."

"I didn't." Will's voice is quiet, but steady. Nico looks down to where Will is still gazing at him. "I can't kill things: people, animals … even monsters. When I've thought about volunteering for a quest in the past, the idea I would have to … I was violently ill – a psychosomatic response. I was attempting to overcome it this morning."

"Did it work?"

"I'm not sure." A shadow falls over Will's face. Nico realizes it's his shadow, but it seems to darken Will's mood again.

Or it could be entirely coincidental.

"I woke up angry. I was expecting..." Will exhales harshly. "My brother – Asclepius, the god of healers – visited me in a dream the other day. He said he had an idea that might have helped us – a way to save my father." He stops and Nico can feel him trying to hold back his anger.

"What was it? What happened?"

Will sits up and scoots until he's perched on the side of the bed, fists clutching the sheets beside his legs. "He said he was taking a huge risk even visiting me, but he had to. He's already under house arrest by Zeus. It's only a matter of time before Zeus throws him into Tartarus …" He breathes out again, as if collecting himself, refocusing. "He said he needed a blood and tissue sample from me, as it was Python that wounded me as a child. After Apollo healed me, my body would have built up antibodies to the poison."