HOLDING HANDS AND INFIRMARIES

“Distill the nectar, please-” Will was saying as Nico entered, already in action. Nico’s mind was still a little sluggish, and Will had to snap his fingers in front of his nose. “As in, mix it with water.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“Hey,” Will’s voice was very calm, very soothing. “Christine. Doing okay?”
She was young. Probably the youngest at camp. Six- maybe seven- years old. Stringy brown hair and freckles, with chubby cheeks. She was sleeping, and when Will gently tapped her shoulder, she flew awake, eyes wide.
“They let her fight?” Nico mumbled. Will didn’t answer.
“Christine.” Will’s voice was definitely changed- “professional” mode. “Were you having nightmares? Bad dreams? How are you holding up?”
Christine put her face in her hands and shuddered. She was crying, but clearly trying to hold it together. The sounds were muffled.
Nico felt a huge wave of nostalgia and painful melancholy. Something surged within his chest, and he felt like doing something- anything- but wasn’t sure how.
Will motioned behind his back for the nectar.
Nico, forgetting that he had the nectar, stumbled a little and dropped his apple. He rushed for the nectar and handed it to Will, trying desperately to do his part.
“War is hard,” Will tried to comfort her. An understatement. “Nobody’s blaming you. War... it’s one of the most awful situations someone could go through.”
Christine still didn’t respond, her back shaking.
Will sighed. “Here.”
The nectar was handed over. She took it hesitantly, letting her face be seen for a millisecond. The eyes were angry. Her face was scrunched up. Everything was blazing until her hair fell over her face.
Nico recognized the emotion immediately.
The drink helped her relax a little. Some of the tension left her shoulders. But she still had anger hanging around her head.
“Will,” Nico mumbled. He coughed, embarrassed to ask. “Um... maybe you should let me...”
Will turned around, not really understanding what Nico was asking. When he did, his eyebrows shot up immediately. “You want to...talk...?”
“I think... yeah,” Nico straightened up. “I think I understand...”
Pain. She was going through pain. And Nico knew misery only all too well.
Will stared for a little. “Yeah. Okay. Here-”
He got up and motioned towards the seat, which Nico hesitantly took. He studied the little girl’s face before tensing- Will was still in the room.
“Maybe you should...” he coughed again. “Um, you know. Get some air-”
Will let out a snort of protest. He folded his arms, but Nico set his jaw, and Will settled for saying, “If you say so” and marching out of the room.
Nico sat with the girl for a couple of minutes, waiting for her to settle down into someone who can handle the conversation. She, apparently not being able to stand it anymore, looked up in a pout.
“When I was ten,” Nico started out, almost wincing. Why did he even think she cared? Why would she ever want to hear any stories about his past? “I thought being a demigod was the coolest thing ever.”
He laughed bitterly. He couldn’t help it. Whenever he thought of his past self, it was like looking at a different person. Like they hadn’t shared the same life, the same body... they just weren’t the same. But they were. The fact that so much changed in a single blow was something that still hurt Nico to this day.
“I had all these magic cards. Mythomagic. It was a game. And the fact that all the players and pieces were real was like a dream come true- my favorite game was becoming my life.”
She was watching him with the same expression he was afraid of seeing- so why are you telling me? He faltered, then swallowed and kept going.
“Um. And, uh, then my sister. She-” something stuck in Nico’s throat. “She died. And it was because she went on this quest, for the gods. And I couldn’t handle it. I acted... terribly. I hated everyone. I hated everything- the gods. My friends. Percy Jackson. My sister. It wasn’t my fault, but it wasn’t really anyone else’s fault, and it just... tore me apart.”
Nico kind of liked talking about himself to Christine. It was different than talking about himself to anyone his age, somehow. Simpler.
“The dreams, too,” he added, carefully, avoiding her gaze, knowing that this was probably a relatable point. “The dreams were awful. Terrible. They had fears and monsters that I never wanted to see or think about again.”
Christine was crying again. Nico didn’t put his hand on her back, or anything. That would probably terrify her, or make her feel embarrassed. He just kept talking.
“It’s not fair,” Nico said, letting his voice sour. He didn’t hold any emotion back. His words filled with years of anger, bitterness, disgust, and... resigned acceptance. “It’s not fair that our parents gave us these lives, where we’re expected to be heroes and never give up and stand against all these crazy enemies. It isn’t fair.”
Her crying was stopping. Nico could see her hands grip the side of the bed in fierce fury, her knuckles turning white.
“I don’t want to be a hero,” she finally announced, like she’d been dying to say it all this time. She sounded like she was choking, and she turned to Nico with desperation. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”
Nico, instead of debating with her, nodded. “I didn’t want to, either. I ran away from Camp Half Blood. I hid out with the ghosts. I cursed the gods, turned my back on everyone... And...”
He didn’t mean to pause. He was just trying to get his words together. But Christine poked at him. “And?”
“I realized that fighting for something you love is better than running away from everyone you love.” He looked at her. “Does that make sense?”
She’d deflated. Her orange Camp Half-Blood was way too big for her, and her face was a very puffy red. “No,” she stated stubbornly.
“It means you have a home here. And even though you have to fight, you get to fight with all of us. You’ll never be alone. None of us wanted to be a hero, either. Well. I don’t know if I’m a hero, really, but I do know this guy, Percy Jackson-” his breath caught on Percy Jackson, and he cursed himself. Maybe Nico was over him, but Percy had taken up a good three years of his life. That can’t be erased in a couple of seconds. “Percy Jackson only wanted to get through school without being kicked out. He never wanted to be a demigod. He never wanted to be a hero. He wanted to be normal. But he loved camp, and he knew the gods were better than the enemy, and he fought and became one of the greatest heroes the world has ever seen. He didn’t want to, but he did anyways, and look at him now.”
Christine was quiet. She’d probably heard all the stories about Percy. There were many to tell.
“None of us wanted to be heroes. We don’t fight to be heroes. We fight because we love each other, and this is the safest place in the world for us.”
“I don’t love camp!” Christine whispered, frustratedly, trying to process this information. “I don’t!”
“I don’t, either,” Nico surprised her, once again, by saying. “It never felt like home to me. But... I’m trying. I like... I like the food,” he said lamely. She looked at him with sketpical eyes. He had to try better than that.
“I like Chiron. I like the training. I like Mrs. O’Leary. I like...” he thought of Hazel and Reyna and Frank, who weren’t technically at this camp but were connected all the same. He thought of... of Percy. And Annabeth, and Piper. He thought of Jason and Lou Ellen and Cecil. And he definitely... definitely thought of Will. “I like some of the people.”
It was quiet. “If you try...” he offered her a deal. “I’ll try. And then we can try to love it together.”
“I like the pegasus-es,” Christine admitted, her face opening up, timidly, grudgingly. “I like Capture the Flag. It’s like war without the dying.” Her face contorted again.
“Does death scare you?” Nico asked, softly, feeling a little self-concious.
She nodded wildly, telling him, “I don’t want to be gone!” breaking off into little frantic sobs again.
He waited for her crying to subside a little, and he said, “You won’t be gone.”
She continued to hiccup, looking at Nico with wild eyes. “I will. I’ll be gone.”
At that, she looked down at the cup of nectar in her hands and drank some of it, heaving. She shoved the drink at Nico. “More!”
Nico waited a little bit more, looking at her with dark eyes instead. She put her face in her hands again.
“You won’t be gone,” he said again. “You’ll go to the Underworld. And it’s not as bad as people think. Especially if you go there as a hero.”
Her crying was softer now, and he knew she was listening, so he continued. “There’s this line that you have to wait in, which is kind of bad, but after that, you go to these three people and they look at your life. If they think you’re a hero, you get to go to this big paradise where there’s beaches and laughing and friends and sunshine... And you get to stay there forever.”
“Beaches?” her voice was muffled.
“Yeah. And music. Very pretty music down there.”
“Is it Heaven?”
“Well... To you, probably not. But to some people, yes. It’s complicated,” he added, seeing the confusion on her face.
“How do you know all this?” she demanded, crossing her arms. The tears have left, which was good. There was some relief in her body and her eyes.
“Because I’m a son of Hades. He’s the Lord of the Underworld.”
Realization dawned in her eyes. She’d heard about him before. Nico braced himself for screams, or backing away, but instead, he heard her ask, timidly, “Isn’t your dad real, real bad?”
Nico laughed, and then thought about it. “You know-” he remembered his last meeting with his father, and how he was promised- no matter what happened- a place in the Underworld, at his father’s side. The thought, as much as he hated to admit it, softly warmed a small marble in his chest.
“He’s pretty scary, and not really the best guy you’ll ever meet, but he’s not terrible. Sometimes he’s... sometimes he’s okay. You probably won’t have to meet him,” he added, to reassure her.
Christine breathed out and let herself fall back. She was still upset, but her panic had definitely gone down. She was more... defalted. Drained. Exhausted.
But better.
Better than being full of venom.
Nico knew the feeling only too well.
“I’ll meet you down there,” he told her. She looked up at him with a tired expression. “If you die, I’ll meet you down in the Underworld. Which you won’t, because you’re going to be a hero, even if you don’t want to be. I know you will. But if, somehow, you die, I’ll meet you down there. I’ll walk you and wait with you for a little bit, okay? You won’t be alone.”
Christine was still for a second, deciding on how she felt about that. She nodded, tentatively, and then more firmly. “Okay.”
Nico smiled, a little. He was also kind of exhausted from all of that. “Okay. I’ll see you later, Christine.”
She nodded numbly, her brown eyes closing, pudgy cheeks losing some of its red rage. Nico got up, grabbed the first aid kit, and ran into Will Solace.
“Outside.”
Nico nodded, and closed the door behind him.
“Gods, Nico. That was awesome.”
“You were listening?” Nico tried to be angry. Will noticed.
“Oh, please. Of course I was listening. I’m the doctor, remember? But were you listening to me? I just said that that was awesome.”
“All I did was talk.”
Will wasn’t smiling, or being playful. He was being dead serious.
“You’re a really great person, Nico. I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet.”
Nico’s throat closed up, and he looked away. His fingers clenched into a half-hearted fist. Something like liquid sunshine flooded over his aching brain and calmed it.
“You don’t like camp?”
“I’m trying.”
“But you like some of the people.”
Something like discomfort was seeping into Nico’s chest. How was it so hard to talk about himself to people that weren’t six years old? “Yeah.”
Will was quiet. It seemed like he didn’t want to push the question. Nico sighed, closing his eyes, and admitted, “Including you.”
Will let out a small breath. It seemed like relief. “Good.”
It was quiet for a while. When Nico finally opened his eyes, Will was staring at him.
He held the stare, and his heart fluttered in a monstrous wave. Will’s eyes were really blue. That kind of blue everyone reads about but never sees on an actual person- the clearest, lightest sky, or the most pristine pool of water...
“And of course you’re a hero, you idiot,” he threw his hands up, the tone getting more lighthearted. “That might’ve been the stupidest thing you’ve ever said, and I’ve heard you say some pretty stupid things-”
Nico laughed, surprisingly both Will and himself. “Okay, Solace. Good to hear. Don’t we have somewhere to be? People to take care of?”
“Yeah,” Will shrugged, walking down the hall. Nico followed. “But it’s break. People are starting to clear out a little. It’s been three days, and everyone here for rest or broken bones have been scheduled to leave just around now.”
“I’m here for rest. Can I leave?”
“You skipped two days. That doesn’t count. And I’m the doctor, so you’ll be here for rest for as long as I want you to be here for rest.”
Nico made a noise in his throat. “You’re not even a real doctor-”
“In the past week, I delivered a baby satyr, saved at least ten lives- including yours- and healed twenty bones. I don’t need a PhD to tell me that I’m a real doctor.”
“You have the help of this thing called ambrosia.”
“Modern doctors have medicine, too. I don’t see the difference.”
“So you’re telling me that maybe I don’t need to rest. Maybe Will Solace just wants some extra help around his station-”
They trudged into an open room, where supplies littered the tables, and Will whipped around. Startled, Nico stopped, and Will grabbed Nico’s hand.
His pulse immediately started going a million miles an hour.
“I can feel darkness in your palm,” Will stated. His hand was hand really, really warm. Lazy sun trudged into Nico’s fingers. “It’s not as uncontrolled as it was four days ago, but mornings are still especially hard to get up from, huh?”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Nico said immediately, trying to ignore the hands-touching thing. “It’s always hard to get up in the mornings.”
“And your dreams have probably been messy, too. The images aren’t clear. Something’s sucking you in.”
Nico stared. Will shrugged, suddenly a little self-concious. “That’s what happens when darkness starts to overtake you.”
They were still holding hands. Nico started to pull away, in embarrassment, but then stopped. Will kept holding, his brow furrowed. Nico looked down, his face twitching, trying to figure out whether to smile or frown-
Somebody rushed in, and Nico jumped like he’d just been sparked. His hand flew away from Will’s, and he turned away, trying to look like he was busy with something, his eyes focusing on the white pillow in front of him. When he looked back, Will looked like he wanted to laugh. The girl- Katie Gardner- stopped for a second, blinked a couple of times, began to speak, and then shook her head. She grabbed her things and walked quickly off.
Silence and thoughts and feelings filled the air, and something was floating in Nico’s chest-
“So!” Nico tried to say, jamming his hands into his pockets. “Break.”
“Break,” Will repeated, a funny expression on his face. He sounded a little crestfallen. Nico swallowed.
“We should... I mean. We...”
“Oh, right. You haven’t eaten. I have your apple... You dropped it...” Will held it out, and Nico took it quickly, almost jumping at the slightest touch of fingers. His ears were on fire.
“Thanks.” Nico’s eyes were fixed on the apple. It was bruised, and very dark red.
“So... Aren’t you going to eat it?”
Nico laughed nervously. “Yeah. Yeah. Um, I don’t really know why I got this, actually. I don’t really think I like apples that much. I just needed to grab something today and I wanted to get you something-”
Will rolled his eyes at that. “Nico.”
“What, now?”
“Let’s get some hamburgers. Or chips. Or something. Whatever you like. Come on.”
Nico smiled.

Notes