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The thing about Camp Half-Blood, and the thing that made Nico really angry, was that new campers didn’t always make it. The satyrs tried their hardest, but the world was dangerous and cruel and sometimes it was just too late. Nico wished there was a better system, wished that there was a way to guarantee a demigod’s safety, because the event of grieving for someone they had never even known was something that happened all too often. He was tired of watching funeral shrouds go up in flames, taking the soul of someone who’d been ripped away from the mortal world too soon.
One of the worst things, and one of the things that Nico desperately wanted to change, was that the people who were in charge were just children. They were children with special abilities and the blood of the gods running through their veins, yes, but they were still children. And no child should have to worry about saving each other’s lives every other day. They shouldn’t have to worry about saving anyone, even if they were good at it.
That’s why, even though he was typically seen as the one worth fretting over, he was endlessly concerned about Will. No matter how talented a healer Will was, there were some injuries that couldn’t be fixed, and sometimes kids died while in Will’s care. It wasn’t Will’s fault at all, and everyone knew that-- everyone except Will. Trying to convince him he’d done all he could was futile, but Nico said it anyways because it’s what a grieving person needs to hear, even if they don’t believe it. But Will was stubborn, and Nico knew better than anyone that grief and guilt weren’t things that went away just because someone told you that you were being irrational.
It was hard seeing Will so upset, and it was even harder when he knew there wasn’t much that he could do other than offer comfort, which Will often didn’t accept. Will was like Nico, in that respect; he didn’t want to show weakness, didn’t want to show how much he was truly hurting.
But sometimes grief took over the need to be strong.
-
Will was sitting on the porch of the Apollo cabin, still in his bloodied scrubs but with his gloves thrown to the side, staring blankly into space when Nico found him. He was pale, and he looked like he wanted to be sick.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Nico said, hoping what he knew had happened hadn’t actually happened, hoping Will would stop feeling like the fates of everyone’s lives were resting on his shoulders.
Will’s gaze flickered to him briefly. His eyes were dark, tired, and way too similar to what Nico saw when he looked in a mirror. “Just been sitting here.”
Nico knelt down in front of him, putting his hands on Will’s knees. “Will—Will, please talk to me.” His tone was firm, but not unkind. If he were soft-spoken in moments like this, Will would never respond. When someone’s emotions were all over the place, it could be hard to focus; Nico knew firsthand what that was like, and while that was unfortunate, it allowed him to provide better care than he otherwise would have.
Will shook his head. “Don’t wanna talk.”
“Okay.” Nico shifted so he was sitting next to Will on the porch steps. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He was still touching Will’s knee—a gesture that he hoped was soothing. If there was one thing he was good at sympathizing with, it was people who were trying to cope with loss. That was something he knew well, and one of the only things he could help others with. “Do you need anything?”
Will gave a small smile, but it was sad, and it made Nico’s heart hurt. “You’re here. That helps.”
Nico nodded, moving to rub small circles in Will’s back with his fingers. A part of him wanted to lean over and press a kiss to Will’s temple, to show this was more than just a friend providing support, but the rest of him was still afraid. He didn’t want people to see it, didn’t want rumors like that spreading around, even if they were true. He was sick of being whispered about, and he wasn’t going to willingly feed everyone more things to hear through the grapevine. It wasn’t that he hated himself for loving Will, or liking boys—that wasn’t the case anymore—but it was still private, still something he wasn’t quite comfortable putting out in the open.
Will kept shooting quick glances at Nico, looking distraught and conflicted, and Nico decided that if he didn’t ask, Will wouldn’t be able to talk about it even if he wanted to.
“Will,” Nico murmured, being sure to keep his voice low enough that it wouldn’t startle Will in his current state. “What happened?”
“I—I don’t—“
“It’s obvious you wanna say something, and I’m here to listen. You can tell me.”
Will's lower lip wobbled and dread settled in Nico’s stomach. “I couldn’t save her.” Will stared at his shaking hands. “This is the only thing I can do, the only thing I have to offer, and I can’t even do it right.”
Nico wanted to protest that, but Will looked dangerously close to a full-fledged breakdown, so he didn’t think arguing right now would help. “C’mon.” He stood up and helped Will to his feet. “Let’s take a walk, okay? We’ll go somewhere more private.”
Will didn’t seem too opposed to this idea and let Nico guide him over to Cabin 13. It was blissfully devoid of people, and Will’s resolve to appear fine crumbled once they were inside.
“Nine years old,” Will said, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were beginning to fall. “She was nine years old, and now she’s never going to be ten.”
“Did you do everything you could to save her?” Nico asked even though he already knew the answer.
“Of course.”
“Then that’s all that matters—hey, look at me.” Nico took Will’s face in his hands. “Don’t do this to yourself, Will. The Fates are merciless creatures and they’ll take anybody, even if they’re just nine. Don’t hold yourself responsible for what they do. This is not your fault, do you understand me?”
And then Will completely shattered.
It wasn’t easy supporting all five feet and ten inches of him, but Nico managed to do it. He reached up to wrap his thin arms around Will’s back, hating the way he could feel Will’s body shudder with poorly restrained sobs. “Okay, okay, you’re—you’re okay. You’ll be okay.”
“I failed her, she trusted me and I failed—“
“Will, please listen,” Nico said, swallowing the lump in his throat. He could not cry. “You did everything, I know you did, and I bet she knew it too. Don’t—don’t do this to yourself, Will, don’t beat yourself up over this.”
Will’s tears were starting to bleed into the fabric of Nico’s shirt, but Nico didn’t care. All he was focused on right now was getting Will to stop shaking so damn badly, and then maybe they could work on stopping the crying.
“You know something?” Nico ran his fingers through Will’s hair, softly combing out any little knots. “I’m gonna tell you something; doctors who are twenty, thirty, forty years older than you can’t even save everybody. It’s not a matter of how good you are. Every now and then, death is inevitable. And it’s sad, and it’s heartbreaking, and it makes you angry, but it is not your fault. It’s never your fault.”
Nico pulled away a little to look at Will’s face. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were streaked with tears.
“I think we should sit down,” Nico suggested, pushing a few stray pieces of hair behind Will’s ear. Will didn’t protest, and they slowly moved over to sit on Nico’s bed.
“Her eyes were so big when she looked at me,” Will whispered. “It’s like she knew, she knew I couldn’t stitch it up.”
“You don’t have to do this—“
“There was so much blood, Nico. There was so much and it wouldn’t stop no matter how hard I tried, and I tried so fucking hard—“
“I know, I know,” Nico promised, pulling him close, relief seeping into him as Will responded by resting his head on his shoulder instead of insisting that he was fine. “Everybody knows, nobody blames you.”
“But it’s my—“
“It was not your fault. It wasn’t, I swear to you it wasn’t.”
Will’s breathing was erratic and heavy, strained from the effort it took not to openly wail, which was what it sounded like he needed to do, but didn’t want to succumb to. Despite the lack of sobbing, there were still a lot of tears, enough to make Nico think that Will wouldn’t stop until he was bone-dry on the inside.
“I’m sorry,” Will cried, fingers digging into the back of Nico’s shirt. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—“
“Shh…” Nico held him tight, kissed his head and rocked him gently. “Shh, it’s alright, it’s alright…”
It did stop, after a while. Will drew back, pressing his palms to his temples. “Gave myself a headache…”
“I’ll get you some water,” Nico said, smoothing down Will’s hair before getting up. When he came back, Will was sitting with his face in his hands, but he wasn’t trembling like he had been before. Nico got down in front of him and lightly nudged Will’s leg to alert him he was back.
Will peeked at him from behind his fingers, and then dropped his hands entirely with a faint exhale. “Hey.”
Nico smiled, but there was still deep worry in his eyes. “Hey.”
Will slowly drank the whole glass and then set it on the bedside table. “Thank you. I’m-- I’m really sorry—“
“If I wasn’t willing to be here for you when you need me, that would make me kind of a shitty person, don’t you think?” Nico said. That coaxed out a small, weak laugh from Will, but it was there, and Nico saw that as a success. “You don’t always have to give. And you don’t need to be strong all the time, especially not for me.”
“But I do—maybe not for you, but I can’t—a lot of people are depending on me.” He was looking at his hands again, looking at them with a level of contempt that Nico hadn’t thought was possible. “And I can’t break when they’re counting on me to take care of them.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe don’t burst into tears while you’re performing emergency surgery on someone,” Nico agreed. “But that’s a professional thing and you wouldn’t do that. You don’t have to be strong during the aftermath. You don’t have to isolate yourself, and you actually shouldn’t; it only makes grief that much harder to deal with. I would know, considering I did it.”
Will looked dazed and tired, but sleeping now would be a terrible idea. With images of that girl’s death fresh in Will’s mind, nightmares were guaranteed, and Nico wasn’t about to encourage that.
“Are you gonna be in charge of the…”
The process of burning the body. The dead were wrapped in funeral shrouds and then set on fire. It could be beautiful and profound during some, but others were just sad, especially ones that involved such small bodies. A funeral procession for a nine-year-old girl wouldn’t be anything other than heartbreaking.
“Yeah, probably,” Nico answered. “I don’t think anybody else is jumping at the chance to do it.”
“Do I have to go?” Will asked, his voice breaking.
“No, you don’t.” Technically yes, he did, but Nico figured that nobody would be callous enough to make Will go.
“I feel like I should.”
“You can do whatever you want.”
Will closed his eyes and leaned against Nico’s side. “I wish I could have… I don’t know, I just wish I could have gotten to her in time.”
“You did all you could,” Nico insisted, feeling like a broken record, but he’d say it as many times as Will needed to hear it.
Will nodded to himself, absentmindedly reaching for Nico’s hand and squeezing it. Nico brought Will’s hand to his lips, kissing the back of his hand, his knuckles, his fingertips, and a bit of the tension went out of Will’s shoulders.
“I love you,” Will murmured.
“I love you too.”
And he hoped, one day, Will could love himself.