WPOV

He awakens with stiff limbs and quiet groans. His head lazily lols my way and eyes drunk on medication squint at the person sitting next to him in the car seat. 

"Will?" He breaths out. 

The blanket I had tucked around him slides off his shoulders as he stretches his sour arms with a wince.

"Yeah it's me, how are you feeling?"

I aim my eyes back at the road as I make another turn to the left. The car is silent besides the raspy breaths of Nico. He squeezes his eyes closed while pressing the palm of his hand against his temple. 

"It feels as if someone is drilling holes into my skull," 

I give him a bitter little smile, "I'm sorry, I had to lower the morphine dose to have you a little bit more coherent." 

"Don't be sorry," he says, "it's not your fault."

My fingers dig into the wheel of the car as anger burns through me. I keep my eyes pierced onto the fading horizon as the skin over my knuckles turns white. It takes every ounce of control my body possesses for me, to not turn around the car and straight up crash the thing into Nathan Miller's cursed small house. 

"Maybe a little." I bring out through gritted teeth. 

I can feel Nico's hazed eyes rest on me, lighting up in the sun as lucid syrup. 

"I you weren't beaten up by him a few days ago, you wouldn't have fallen down that flight of stairs. I should have known. I should've paid more attention to you." 

His pupils grow a bit wider but no sound passes from his lips. 

"I am sorry," I turn my head his way, "and I should be." Eyes dart back to the window shield. 

The blood in his hair has crusted into a dark mess. I never noticed but some sticky strands even look brown in the melting sunlight. I try to imagine him with colour on his cheeks, a smile on his lips and freckles under his eyes instead of bags and I nearly tear apart from rage, knowing Nathan stole the light from his eyes, Nathan stole the warmth from his heart, he took all of that. And the fool I was, I let him. 

"I really said all of that, didn't I?" Nico whispers as he mentally recalls his own voice. 

I nod grimly. 

"I'm going to rip his limbs off." 

It frightens me how willing I am to fulfill that promise. Nico weakly turns his head away from me.

"I mean it. If that son of a bitch has the audacity to come even near you..." my throat constricts too much to finish the threat. The words boil in my mouth, I'm scared to spew them out. 

"Then what Will?" Nico asks tiredly. 

My fingers dig into the leather steering wheel until they're so numb, they might as well fall off. I glance sideways at his worn-out face. 

"You don't want to know," I shake my head, "believe me."

Nico shifts underneath his blanket, pulling his arms closer against his chest. His shirt is soiled from dried up blood stains, sticky and uncomfortable in the cloth against his pale skin. 

"Are you cold?" I try to keep the fury out of my voice. It's not meant for him, it's meant for the hand I'll make into a stone fist the moment Nathan fucking Miller dares to step a foot in my direction. 

The more I look at the purple yellow swirl on his cheek, the nastier the fire underneath my skin starts crackling. It burns so much, it devours me whole.

"A little bit," Nico answers as he lays his head down against the window on his side. 

I push the button for seat heating to the max while keeping my eyes glued on the grey Volvo before us. 

"Where are we even going?" 

"Huh?" I let my gaze dart over his slumped form. 

"Where are we going?" He repeats with a strained voice. 

"To my house. Mom is out of town and Summer is at dad's."

"And?"

"And... " I take a deep breath, "It's further away from Nathan than the Half-Blood House." 

Nico sighs as he closes his eyes, "you hate him." It's not a question. 

I grit my teeth. 

"Hate, doesn't exactly cover the emotion I'm currently feeling for him."

Nico ignores it as he keeps his eyes closed. 

"Don't be angry Will, it doesn't suit you." Is the last thing he murmurs before drifting away into another pained slumber. 

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NPOV

I startle as the door of the car slams shut. I blink my eyes open to see pine trees gently shaking in the breeze, the sky early in twilight with red ringed clouds drifting by. I frown as memories slowly trickle through my consciousness. 

Will.

I glance from the empty seat next to me to the figure walking from the front of the car to my side. Evening lights glow warmly on the porch of his house. 

I swing the door open with all my weight before Will gets the chance to do so. His hands hover around me as I step onto the driveway. The wind blows cold into my back at the loss of the pleasant heat from my seat, I tug the blanket a bit tighter around my body. 

"I can do it myself," I say as I shoo him away to close the door. 

I didn't swing it with enough force to close it entirely. Crap. I stubbornly dodge Will's telling look as I try to slam it shut a second time. A satisfying dull *thud* breaks the silence. I bite my lip to avoid a moan slipping out from the violent pain wave that shoots up my shoulder from the movement. 

"Unbelievable." Will's voice pounds through my head.

"I give you one less dose of morphine and you're already unable to suppress your need to act like a tough guy." 

I blink up to the light. The colours around me bleary and unreal. 

"It's fine," I croak, "I'm fine."

He puts his hands onto his hips and glares. "Like hell you are! Correct me if I'm wrong but by the way your face has paled another ten shades, I can conclude that sort of hurt."

Tears prickle in my eyes by the warmth that settles in my chest. 

"That hurt a little bit yeah," I confess in a whisper. He doesn't even taunt me with it.

"May I cary you to the door?" He asks instead. His blue eyes are shimmering with child-like openness and I keep wondering how such a brilliant glistening would look in mine. Maybe I'd appear less dented, maybe the scars on my wrists would fade if I could look at people without a knowing gaze that is shattered into millions of pieces. 

I shake my head stiffly, "I'll walk." 

He bites down whatever argument is itching in his throat and nods his chin at me, "Can I at least support you a bit then?" 

I nod.

He stays quiet as he slings my good arm around his shoulder. The movement alone makes my head spin. I keep blinking and blinking, focusing on the paved narrow path to the front door. The house tilts from left to right. I lean heavily against Will's side, the otherwise comforting smell of pine trees now nauseating my stomach. 

"Stop," I pant out. Like an old rusted machine, my limbs sorely stop moving. Will immediately comes to a halt. He takes one look at my face and without any words bends down to hook one arm under my knees to hoist me up. 

"It's okay," he mutters as my head drops against his collarbone, "it's okay, don't worry."

A tear slides past my cheek as the pain slowly subdues a bit. My body grows heavier in his arms until it has completely accepted its fate. 

"I'm going to slash open Nathan's throat with the blunt butter knife of my grandma but don't worry about it," he says and I can't help the sad smile on my lips.

"That's descriptive," I breath out against his warm skin. 

"That's the beginning," he corrects me. 

I keep my mouth shut, my shirt tightly down over the bruises littering my body, the memory of Nath's hands pushing me down the stairs locked away in the depths of my memory...

Vengeance is a dark look on a person.

God forbid, Will's light gets tainted by it. 

I close my eyes, swallowing down the bile working its way up.

"I don't feel very well." My own voice slurs out. 

One of Will's curls brushes over my face as he looks down to me. With one foot, he pushes the front door open and maneuvers us through the opening. He crouches all the way down to gently place me against the wall before softly closing the door behind him. 

I can see, it takes all his control to not freak out in front of me right now. He'd much rather slam the door so hard into its hinges, the whole building shakes from the impact. Scream his lungs empty and make the walls crumble.

But he doesn't.

Because I'm here.

And he'd rather explode from keeping in all that radioactive fury than show even an ounce of it to me. 

I make an effort to bend over my legs to untie my laces but Will beats me to it. 

"Let me," he says as his tan fingers fiddle with the loops. I sigh. I lean back against the wall while watching Will before me, the medication might file off the sharp edges of my common sense but even with a vision swarmed with black flickering spots, I still know there's nothing more beautiful in this world than Will. 

I should tell him that.

I really, should tell him that. 

"You alright there, deathboy?" he asks the moment I open my mouth. The first shoe slides off my foot. 

"It's like cinderella all over again," I joke. I turn my head from his inspecting eyes while keeping my lips sealed onto each other. My heart is hammering in my chest but I can't tell if it's from the nausea building up in my stomach or the words that nearly fluttered out of my mouth. 

Will chuckles lightly as he places the second shoe next to the other on the mat, "Aren't blue jeans a bit informal for the ball?" 

"I wasn't aware of the dress code." I squeeze my eyes closed to dull the piercing light of the lamps above me. 

Will's hands wrap around my upper arms before hoisting me up. My stomach churns dangerously from the movement. I breath heavily as the blanket slides off my back and I'm trembling like a rag doll in Will's grasp. 

"Now what will the prince say about that?" he gives me a soft smile.

My scrambled brain tries to force an equally quick reply onto my tongue but instead I whip around from Will as my body pitches forwards. The contents of my stomach push upwards in just a split second. 

I swallow it down with a bitter gulp. My heart is knocking itself black and blue against my bruised ribs. I stay standing on shaking knees, turned away from Will who comes running with a bucket. 

He shoves the green plastic into my tingling fingers while holding me firmly around my shoulders. 

"Do you need to sit down for a bit?" he asks, voice overflowing with concern. 

I try to nod but only a weak groan rolls of my lips. 

"This ball sucks," is all I can muster as a reply. 

I barely feel him lift me up. The living room passes my vision in a haze, I push myself impossibly closer into Will's chest, shivering for his warmth. My fingers shake against the smooth surface of the bucket.

"You've got a bad concussion, I should've known moving you this much was a terrible idea," he says.

I nuzzle my face against the softness of his shirt before it registers in my brain that I'm staining his good clothes with dried up blood. I pull my head back. Stars dance in my line of sight.

"What's wrong?"

I'm paralyzed by the emotion reflecting in his eyes.

"I'm staining your clothes." My voice is a hoarse whisper, "I'm sorry." 

His hold on me tightens before he lays me down on the ridiculously large couch in the living room. 

-------------------

WPOV

Nico perks up a bit as I walk in with a towel, a washcloth and a bucket of warm water and soap. 

"Okay since the bathroom is upstairs and I don't want to jostle you around too much, we'll clean up the worst here on the couch and in the morning when I can pump your veins full with morphine again, I'll move you upstairs," I explain and he smiles faintly. 

"Thanks Will." 

I nod while trying not to let my eyes linger on the caked blood on the side of his face. It makes the anger within me boil beyond recognition. To see his beautiful, kind self coated in stains and trails of dark red... it's like he already died before me. 

I want to wring the air with my bare hands out of Nath's throat. If he were there, he could've caught him, he could've done anything at all to stop him from hitting his head. Stopping Steve, if the worst is true. Instead, he beat the life out of him and then let him wander around, exhausted and hurt. 

On his own.

I deny the way my insides curl up into stone. 

"Do you need help taking those off?" I ask while glancing at the fingerless gloves covering his hands. 

Nico stays quiet for a while. Unmoving on the couch.

"Will," his gaze is fixed on the pillow in his hands, "I think it's better if you turn away for now." His voice is dead serious. 

I'm scared of breathing in. 

"Turning away is what got you into this mess in the first place," I respond quietly. His eyes find mine.

"You'll get mad." 

"Not at you," I promise with my full heart. 

He laughs bitterly, some sleek strands give off an ominous reddish glow underneath the lights.

"It's really not that pretty," he warns. 

Nathan won't be either when I'm done with him.

I keep my lips glued onto each other but it's as if Nico can read the thought from the crease of my brows and the gleam in my eyes. 

"Promise me you won't say a word."

He sounds tired. He looks tired, and all I want to do is wrap him up in my arms. I bite the inside of my lip until a distant metallic taste lingers between my teeth. 

"I promise."

Wordlessly, he slides the gloves over his fingers to reveal hands battered black. My breathing quickens, my heartbeat thrums between my ears. As he tosses the black cloth to the side, I somehow manage to stay silent. 

I can almost feel the bumps on his knuckles as if they are my own. 

Nico rolls his sleeves up. Angry slashes burn red underneath the white bandage. As far as his shirt reveals skin, bruises and patches reach up to his elbows. He sits still for a moment while avoiding my eyes. He fiddles with the hem of his shirt before dropping it out of his fingers entirely.

"I'm actually really really tired, maybe we can do the cleaning up tomorrow?" He says while already grabbing for the blanket next to him. I march towards him and plow down next to him. Our gazes lock with each other and for a full two minutes there's nothing else besides my angered breaths and Nico's raspy ones that fill the living room around us. He looks downright scared. I might have promised him to keep my mouth shut but that doesn't prevent my mind from screeching out in agony. 

I can't help but let my eyes dart over the beaten skin on his arms. I swallow thickly. I bite down on my tongue as my hand reaches for the hem of his shirt. 

Nico doesn't budge. He's all wide eyes and scared little gasps of breath. 

"Will, I don't... I don't think that's..."

Before he can finish the sentence, I lift his shirt upwards. My hand freezes, my fingers turn into stone around the cloth. The air is knocked out of my lungs as I recognize the precision of the cuts on his chest. My eyes shoot up to his face.

"Those...those are made with doctor tools." My voice burns through the silence.

Nico's expression is as pained as it is beautiful. It's as if someone poured ice water down my neck, every hair on my body rises up. 

"Mine. Those are my, doctor tools." I nearly don't have the air in my lungs to squeeze those words out. Every limb feels as if it's on fire while at the same time stuck in a freezer. I tear my eyes away from the brutal colours corrupting his skin. There are tears glistening in Nico's eyes.

"I'm sorry," is all he says. 

I drop the shirt with fingers trembling from fury. I jump upright from the couch. 

"I'm going to kill him, Nico, I swear I'm going to kill him!" I don't mean to scream but the fire inside of me is raging out of control. 

Nico sobs as I pace back and forth while trying to suppress the urge to kick the ever living shit out of any object that's even remotely close to me. 

"Will don't be mad." 

I glance back to see the tears plunge down from his cheeks. 

I grip my mouth into my hand, dig my fingers so deep into my skin, I might break my jaw. 

"I'm going to rip his face off," I whisper with closed eyes. I'm shaking from adrenaline, my hands itching for a hit. 

"Will please, don't hurt him!" Nico breaths out between sobs.

My heart shudders from the sight of him crying. I walk towards him and place a hand on his cheek. Nico looks at me with wide eyes. My chest freezes another twenty degrees lower. 

"You're too good for him, for me, for the world..." I say while my fingers are getting sticky from tears, "they don't deserve you."  

I stroke the side of his face with all the gentleness I can muster. The tremble in my palms betrays the anger ablaze underneath my skin. Nico's eyes turn glossy. 

"You say it like you mean it." 

A single tear slips past the corner of his eye. The flames swallow me whole. 

Nathan planted all those rotten seeds in his brain, made them flower in black dirt, turned Nico against himself, turned his friends against him as well. And now, there's a boy sitting before me who thinks he's as exchangeable as a dime. 

Without another word, I wrap my arms around his frail form. With all the love inside of me I hold him against me and hope he can feel the warmth, the rage, hope he hears all the words he needs to hear in the folds of my shirt, in the softness of my embrace and the tears slipping past my eyes. 

It's a good thing I promised him not to speak.

I never been so at loss for words in my entire life. 

Never had so much to say and tell.

Still my lips are unable to form one single sound. 

"I'm so glad I have you Will," Nico sobs as he sinks away into my embrace. 

I lay down my head into the crook of his neck and breath in his scent. My arms snake a bit tighter around his middle, as if saying;

'You'll always have me.'

A harsh buzz makes the table tremble. I look over my shoulder to see the screen light up.

Baby Boo

1 new message

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I have been feeling very uninspired the last few days. Not feeling very well, got a bit of the blues, you know. I enjoy reading your comments so much and I want to welcome all the new readers that have gathered. 

I might put this story on hold for a bit but I'll try to not make it too long.

vote?