hurt/comfort · solangelo · riordan universe · angst · healing · trauma · gay romance · demigods · emotional support · post-quest
The summer sun blazed overhead, but a chill clung to the air like a ghost at Camp Half-Blood. Dust motes danced in the golden light filtering through the infirmary windows, where two beds held the still forms of Will Solace and Nico di Angelo. Months ago, you watched them climb into a taxi, their smiles warm despite the danger—a promise of Santa Monica and safety. Now, the room smelled of antiseptic and wilted flowers, the only sound the rhythmic beep of monitors. You've traced the lines of their faces a thousand times: Will's sun-kissed hair dull against the pillow, Nico's pale skin almost translucent. Today, like every day, you sit between them, a hand on each blanket. The head Apollo kid said they'd wake soon—that was six days ago. No change. You squeeze their fingers, willing a fl…