Chapter Text
Will never celebrated his birthday, had anyone asked him why he would have shrugged and just looked away. It was during the school year, most of his cabin— his family— was gone for their school year and even his mother, Rest her soul, had passed so birthdays didn’t mean much to him.
If you’d ask him privately he’d say meant another year, another bead, and another chance to meet his gruesome death at the hands of some hungry monster.
It was because of this mind set that his own birthday didn’t mean much so when he woke up on October 7th and blinked his eyes at the mostly empty cabin nothing felt different. In all fairness, seventeen wasn’t anything special, it was the age right between adulthood and childhood that left most people feeling restless but all Will could conjure up was a soft feeling of relief.
Seems he beat the odds again this year — he mindlessly catalogued climbing from his bed to fall into his usual routine. Bathroom, shower, dress in his scrubs, head to the infirmary to check over their local accident prone children.
Nothing was different when he pushed open the screen door of the infirmary door and hummed softly to himself glancing down the twin rows of 6 beds to see the two separate occupants of the building to be still caught in sleep.
They were his frequent flies, he had joked at one time, Roe and Philip, son of Hermes who had a knack for finding the loose rocks on the obstacle course and Son of Ares who had been around almost as long as Will and had a skill for pissing off his older siblings.
He smirks softly to himself walking down to pick up the two charts silently moving toward the back of the room where his collection of supplies sat catalogued and safely locked away behind strong glass cabinets. He flicks through the two charts as he drops onto the single rolling stool he kept around to use when working noting both should be able to be discharged today as long as they stayed away from the training field.
He liked seeing that, seeing people getting better. To be kind to himself most people did get better when encountering him, especially within the last few years but he didn’t think that washed away his failures from when he had been younger.
He reaches one hand up carefully scratching at the back of his neck feeling the curling hair back there tickling his neck slightly and almost falling too long. It had been almost half a year since his last hair cut, sometime during early spring and late winter when he had finally been cornered by the Aphrodite cabin and sat down after assisting his father with some shitty quest. His stomach still twisted in displeasure at the memories of said quest, not to mention after that following his batshit crazy boyfriend into the literally pits of hell hadn’t been the best for his mental health but he was a demigod so who was there to tell him he was wrong for focusing on suppression instead of processing.
In the back of his mind a voice sounding eerily like his boyfriend screamed about proper mental care and treating himself as more but he easily ignores that. It was simpler to be able to ignore it when said boyfriend had been away for the last month running around wild with some Roman demigods hunting some kind of monster or another. He wasn’t bitter, he missed him seriously though. Forcing his thoughts away from his missing—BUSY— busy boyfriend, he checks his watch, breakfast would begin in 30 minutes and if the two wanted to make it they would need to get up.
He carefully sets the charts to the side on a small sliding table he used often when doing anything in the infirmary, grabbing a pen to sign on the bottom of the chart his personal approval for discharge and then rises from his stool. His humming that he had been doing earlier before entering the infirmary slips from his lips again, easily louder than before but still running through the air softly. The tune bumping around his head desperately begging for escape but truly music wasn’t one of his best skills and he could say he wouldn’t risk anyone being woken up by his obnoxious singing voice so early.
Instead he drifts between the beds getting the two conscious and sitting up with only a few presses of their shoulders. Most demigods were like that, specially the older more seasoned kids. When you live through multiple battles and wars you tend to be ready to raise no matter the time.
He sends the two off with little flourish seeing them out and waving at some of the passing all seasonal campers. It was a bit busier than it had been years prior, more demigods showing up day by day, being claimed and then carted off to some school that Mr D or Chiron could convince the mortal staff to accept.
Really Will liked it this way, slightly rushed and collected with bright eyes and low laughter, it reminded him of when he himself first joined camp. It was nice to see more and more kids showing up on their doorstep without the horrible traumatizing monster experiences.
He leaned against the doorframe as Philip joins his collection of younger siblings, watching as they begin ribbing him about getting another scar from his own stupidity. The handful of kids push and shove at each other but each of them waves their thanks to him and he just nods, head tilted against the wooden frame and a pleased smile tracing his lips.
Roe’s reunion with his own siblings passing by is just as bright, name calling and laughter slipping toward him but even they don’t seem any less grateful to have him returned. Privately he couldn’t blame them, sometimes accidents at camp could push to longer and less stable stays behind the white painted screen door.
It was better this way, everyone knew it.
After watching his patience disappear with their family he gets a bit distracted eyes raised across the coast. There’s a cool silence tracing over him and its almost as if his own family was greeting him as he watched the sun slowly start pushing across the Long Island horizon bathing the fields and valley in warm gold brushing along every cabin and then heating his skin in a slow brush.
It was almost like a soothing hug and knowing his father maybe it was.
He takes a moment closing his eyes enjoying the heat before he hears the sound of a conch shell echoing across the space calling breakfast to order. He sighs pushing off the door frame grabbing the handle of the screen door and pulling it closed behind him and began heading down the creaking wooden stairs and moving toward the pavilion to join in the breakfast.
As he walks down the well worn dirt path from the infirmary to pavilion he can’t help but think to himself how, different today feels.
It wasn’t different in a physical sense, he couldn’t tell that the breeze on his skin was a bit softer, the sun a bit warmer, and the sounds around him a bit more musical. Maybe it was that feeling of a non physical different that made the bird catch his eyes.
It was beautiful, soft browns and whites mixing together as it soared through the air. It didn’t seem real as it swooped through the open sky and along the path toward the pavilion singing loud songs in its beautiful voice. It made his stomach twitch and his heart pound, as if he was experiencing a sharp blast of joy and happiness just at the sight of the bird.
He almost wanted to chase it, his steps falling out of synch for a moment before he regains his sense of self and he pauses in his movement his eyes never stopping their watching, captured on the arching of the bird over the pavilion only to fall on the crowd that seems to have formed chattering and laughing.
Everything seemed— normal? Safe almost, like a fake scene in a movie where the main character was thrashing around with something but nothing outside of himself was wrong.
Dread slide along his stomach for a moment, curling and coiling like a venomous snake with eyes narrowed ready to lash out at anything that came too close.
He carefully clenched and unclenched his hands shaking his head and forcing himself to shove the distrust and worry down and instead sink into the energy around him.
Nothing was wrong, nothing was off and all he was experiencing was a bout of simple paranoia. He bite the inside of his lip for a moment before forcing himself forward.
The last two steps into the pavilion were quick and almost painless his eyes flicking toward his massively empty table minus about 5 of his siblings like normal, each bubbling over with their own enthusiasm and happiness. Upon seeing their normal behavior he is able to sooth his brain and he moves to settle onto the edge of the bench next to one of his newest siblings, Helix.
“Listen— I get it, music is meant to be like our thing but isn’t it a bit much to have to stumble around all the abandoned instruments you leave out every night,” Kayla leans over the table pointing toward the younger kid.
Seems that there had been another incident this morning. Normally Will was able to avoid the dramatics that happened between growing teens but having left early before his cabin mates had risen to check on his patients had left an opening for argument. His lips purse slightly for a moment before pretending to be untested in observing the feast before him to process her complaints.
To be honest the issue probably came from the fact that Will didn’t have the heart as the head counselor of Cabin 7 to scold the 11 year old yet. Helix had been dropped at camp 3 months ago by an aging grandmother with eyes that held laughter and kindness, gently patting the kids head and making Will promise to watch out for the kid. He can’t really turn down gentle old ladies so he had agreed. If it meant that the kid was a bit more spoiled than the others at first— well that’s between Will and the Gods.
In turn he has to duck his head to stop a chuckle at Helix’s outraged growl and waving of a fork, “You wouldn’t have to stumble around them if you stopped moving them from their places!”
Will silently notes as he reaches across the table to collect an abandoned blueberry muffin that had fallen from Sydney, another one of his younger sisters, plate and easily raises it to his mouth, that the instruments places happen to be piled from on the two bunks that sat left and right of the younger kid.
Okay so Maybe Will was spoiling him too much because to the right of Helix’s bunk was Kayla’s bunk even if she preferred to sleep in Mia’s when the other was at school for the optimal moonlight.
His face scrunched up a bit when a piece of Kayla’s breakfast flicks off the edge of her fork traveling toward him making him swallow the muffin and say, “Hey, Hey— deep breath.” Cutting off whatever argument she had been building up in her chest.
He always felt like a mother when breaking up the arguments of his younger campers, hell he felt that way during counselor meetings too when he had to stop the chronic snarking between all of the head campers.
Kayla lets out another almost growl and with a look from Will she settles back into the bench seat leaning her head against Sydney. She then began lamenting to the other about disrespect and favoritism making Will roll his eyes again and turn to look at the younger Apollo child.
He says with a slight tilt of his head, “She’s right you know, we need to start picking up our stuff before lights out, if anything happens in the night and we have to get up in a hurry it could become dangerous.”
At his statement the kid frowns, pushing a bit of the cinnamon rolls around his plate before asking, “What could happen here? Nothing has happened here since I got here.”
It was an innocent statement, one that normally people would feel it rolled off their backs as a passing complaint abound chores. It tugged at something in Will’s chest though, souring his thoughts as he flicks his gaze around the room, his eyes brushing over the long faded crack in the floor from his boyfriend, or the patches of earth still beaten down up the hill from scorched battle preparations from a year and two years ago, or the tree standing tall and proud at the top of half blood hill still sprouting the beautiful Golden Fleece.
When had there been a time where something didn’t happen at camp, when the world was ending and crumbling under their feet and maybe his silence was telling enough for his siblings to distract the kid from getting an answer.
Absentmindedly Will brushed his thumb over the beads that hung around his neck, every battle, every memory suddenly bright in his head before he blinks his eyes and the song of a bird echoing through his ears. The hazy feeling that had fallen over him in that moment melts away and his brain catches up to the chatter around him.
Everything was good— no world crumbling quests or gods falling onto his doorstep to save. No demigod bleeding out sobbing for help while he was elbow deep in their intestines to patch them together to hopeful make it to the end of the next 30 minutes. His stomach drooped in displeasure as he sets down the half chewed muffin and cracks a grin.
It was entirely forced but no one but himself would notice as he says, “Better watch yourself or I’ll make something happen to keep you in your toes.”
He runs a hand through the younger golden haired child, who just swats him away falling into a discussion about music with his siblings. It was soothing to see such a bright light here that hadn’t yet seen the shit that the rest of the kids had, untainted by the shit of the gods.
A bit of bitterness brushes along his thoughts before he smoothed it away with another blink of his eyes and he feels his appetite fade as he stands stretching. He looks to his small collection of siblings and says, “I have inventory to do, and pass long to the Stoll’s if you guys have your need lists as well make sure and drop them off with me.”
He gets a group affirmative before waving them off starting down the path toward his infirmary again.
As he walks he waves at old friends and wishes them good morning forcing the hum from this morning to brush along his lips hands pressed into the larger front pocket of his scrub top. Since his visitors had been dismissed he was in need of a disinfectant day anyways so he sends a silent prayer to the gods to make sure no one gets hurt today before unlocking the door again and stepping inside.
Nothing had changed from his abandonment of the building 20 minutes ago. He didn’t bother with cleaning yet, instead letting the screen door swing shut behind him and flipping the wooden arts and crafts sign he had been given 3 years ago by a collection of kids that read “the dr is in” in bright obnoxious yellow coloring, he strides toward the back shelves again. He moves to the right of the original collection of clear glass door cabinets to his old and paint faded wooden desk.
It had been in the infirmary likely longer than Will had been alive, bulky with locking drawers and covered by a simple lamp and a desktop file organizer that could hold a collection of files where he kept his recent cases.
As he passes his rolling desk he collects the files from this morning moving to instead deposit them in the organizer and picking up a clipboard he had left on the desk before with 15 printed pages of last months inventory.
His lips purse in a bit of displeasure but picking up a pencil from the pencil holder he had next to his lamp he turns toward the cabinets and mutters out loud, “Gods speed good man.”
Patting himself mentally on the back before diving into inventory.
True to form he feels his mind get lost in the counting and cataloguing barely sparing more than a few words when a his siblings drop by to leave their lists of needs on his desk already elbow deep in antihistamine pill counting. His mind finding the task a good distraction from the heavy thoughts of the morning and the passing time of his birthday until a knock on his door draws him from the ticking of his list.
This causes him to jump turning from his position on his stool slumped over the rolling desk with 3 unmarked bottles of before him. Standing outside the cabin was Chiron, leaned over to glance inside his larger horse form unable to make it inside, “Will, Lad, have a moment?”
The tone was light and welcoming even if something about the man being here on his doorstep sent chills down his spine. Swallowing slowly and checking the time on his watch noticing that 5 hours had faded and the day was beginning to enter the early afternoon and lunch had already begun.
He clears his throat shifting to recap the bottles and make a quick note on his board before he says, “Sure give me a moment.”
He raises from his seat setting the pills back into the cabinet front and center to not forget and grabs his siblings lists from his desk. He silently notes to add the task of dropping the lists off with the Hermes Co-counselors tucking them into the pockets of his top, before moving toward the front of the building quickly.
He didn’t like the idea of keeping the immortal waiting. He carefully steps up to the door flicking the sign and then stepping outside listening the door snap shut behind him before facing the centaur. The man smiles down at him, his eyes scrunched up at the edges seeming bright and trusting.
It was a smile that when he was younger soothed all his worries and stress, it was also the smile of a man who had sent children off to war multiple times and the bitterness flashes down his spine again.
He forces those thoughts away easily as he falls in step with the advisor who starts them toward the big house. He raises a hand to twist one of the beads on his leather cord and asks after a moment of silence, “Is something wrong Sir?”
The honorific might seem out of place with Will being almost 18 but something about their motions and movements told him that something wasn’t directly right. His eyes flick around slowly for any telltale sign of the world ending but he just gets a soft hum in response, “Depends on what you view as being wrong.”
It was a nonsensical answer to his serious question.
He bites his bottom lip for a moment wishing that Nico was here to hold his hand but forces those thoughts away as well as the bitterness. His boyfriend was a very busy demigod being the son of Hades and all— along with his standing position as an ambassador for the god at the Roman camp while also running his own quests. They couldn’t spend every moment connect at the hip no matter how much Will would prefer that, though it was another thought he would never share.
He knew it lived with an unending and always filling pile of thoughts that he kept for himself and only for himself, the thoughts were things he needed be left between him and the god of truth that was his father.
The walk to the big house, seeming to be their final destination, was silent only broken by the sound of loud shouts from the cabins and the singing of the same bird. His eyes flick over the cabins below, something telling him that if he didn’t gaze at this collection of kids this last time he wouldn’t get to remember them as they were now. Dread filling him as they pass around the back of the house forgoing the patio and even the centaurs normal casual wheel chair disguise the centaur would settle in to have comforting chats in.
As they round to the front of the big house overlooking the descending hill and the slight misty quality of the barrier that stretched along the borders of the camp his eyes flick around for a moment taking in the world around him before settling on the restless red hair that was pacing the front of the patio with great vigor. Rachel Elizabeth Dare was as much of a spark as he remembered from last year. Her hair was yanked away from her face in a sloppy and barely held together ponytail and eyes narrowed and focused. Her lips were moving quickly as if practicing a speech and in her hands she gripped something tightly but every so often she would turn and make a gesture as if giving it away.
His tongue feels heavy as he says, “Rachel?”
Her name feeling a bit foreign on his tongue for a minute, something told him this was not going to be like their bi weekly gossiping conversations.
He almost jumps out his skin when she swings around quickly eyes wide and the green of them sharp and almost cloudy for a moment before she blinks and shouts, “Finally! I’ve been trying to call you for hours!”
He blinks surprised at her volume and turns his head to glance at the Centaur who seemed to have found himself busy with watching a collection of campers trampling through the strawberry fields being chased out by one of the rare Demeter kids who didn’t return home for the school year. He flicks his eyes around and then he shrugs and rubs a hand over his shoulder soothing a knot he didn’t realize was there, “Sorry, I was working on inventory and you know how I loose time—“
She tsks aloud shifting from her frantic pace to moving closer to his side hands reaching out grasping his arm and says, “Yeah, yeah— inventory can wait! This can’t.”
Just as she is opens her mouth to continue speaking he feels something cold and metallic brush the skin of his arm making his eyes glance down to her hands holding his now captured wrist. His lips pulling down in a frown at the simple metal wristband pressed to his skin feeling something brushing along his skin like a warning.
He mutters, “What—“ his voice caught in his throat before he feels the band expanding and then wrapping around his wrist and locking all within a second making him suck in a sharp sound— eyes staring at the intrusion pressed onto his wrist.
The curse that slips through his teeth would have made his mother roll in her grave and the look he gets from Rachel confirms that she didn’t expect the curse as well.
The silence that surrounds them is heavy for a moment before he hears the sound of Chiron’s hooves on the dirt and him clearing his throat, “Seems your theory was correct Miss Dare.”
Rachel breathes out sharply and frowns staring at Will’s now adorn wrist. After a moment he says slowly the shock fading, “I’m sorry can someone clue me in, on this.”
He gestures with his free hand after dropping it to his side defeated just feeling— tired as he flicks his gaze between the two. He hated being left in the dark but something told him that he didn’t really have a choice at this moment. If the two circle talkers wanted him to understand they would clue him in. He instead lets his gaze drift toward the metal with a curios shiver traveling through his body. The longer he stared the more he was able to connect about the object.
His first realization was that there was magic in the metal, something he had gotten use to the longer he spent time with anyone from the Hecate cabin. It didn’t feel heavy but the chill that cling to the metal at first seemed to be fading and being replaced with a burning heat twisting along his wrist and snaking to his fingers and up his arm. He couldn’t stop the impulsive need to flex his fingers and curling his hand into a fist that seems to bring Rachel to focus on him again.
Her eyes widen and she curses as well, Ancient Greek stuttering over her tongue, a habit he bet she picked up from Percy or Piper or even Annabeth for that matter.
It seemed to fit her all right though, and he felt please to see red color her cheeks in shame as she sucks in a breath, “Yeah— sorry, I didn’t think it would work like this—“ she blinks her eyes twice pushing a haze from them again and seeming to center herself on his wrist again.
The silence around them fades after a moment when she tugs him over toward the solo porch swing dropping down and yanking him with her. He can’t do anything but follow at this point still a bit shocked at the new magical addition to his body. When they settle and his knees feel less locked he turns his head toward her and raises an eyebrow inviting her to speak.
She puffs out a loud breath and says, “a week ago a package showed up at my door, my house in Brooklyn—“
“the manor?” Will interrupts a bit shocked looking at his wrist again, no sane person would drop a magical item off at a mortals residence, especially something that seemed this heavy with magic.
Rachel nods in confirmation and says, “Yeah— in Brooklyn, which I thought was weird because anytime I’ve gotten something— magical? Or well demigod related it happened here at camp or left in the caves you know, so I called Chiron here and he said nothing had happened. Like it was weird but I planned to come down over fall break but obviously something changed.”
Her eyes flicked around quickly as if searching for something— maybe confidence, before sighing out lowly.
She raises a hand to push a freed curl from in front of her face tucking it behind her ear and leans back kicking her feet slightly to rock the swing, “Then, I had a dream, it was like prophecy, all spooky and like heavy but all I could make out was that today,” she sucks in a breath eyes focusing on him again, something akin sympathy in her eyes, “October 7th was important and to find the Sun? At first I thought it was because today is the Pyanopsia ya know?”
His voice drifts a little. He did know, it was a holiday to celebrate his father, a simple joke in his mind if he had to be honest with himself, it left him feeling a bit annoyed, not even his own birthday could be about Will Solace.
He flicks those thoughts out of his head quickly and instead says, “I’m assuming something happened that changed your mind to need to talk to me?”
She blinks her eyes for a moment and nods her head leaning into the creaking wooden swing just pushing them back and forth. She bites her lip harshly and then says, “I kept having dreams of your tattoo, the Sun—“ she points to the left side of his chest and he blinks his eyes glancing down.
The white designed sign had faded within the year of having it. A hand raises up to touch his chest where it had been and mutters softly, “Why are you dreaming of my tattoo and what does it have to with, whatever this is—“ he waves his arm between them the metal not even making a sound holding fast to his arm as if it was formed perfectly to his wrist.
It was uncomfortable how, natural and right it had looked there, like it had always been a part of him. It gave him a bit of a headache staring at it so he forces his eyes away and at the wildfire before him instead.
She seems lost for a moment opening her mouth and shutting it multiple times before throwing her hands in the air, “I don’t know okay! I thought if I came here and gave it to you, maybe something would happen, either you know, Delphi would pop out and give me something!”
She sounds exasperated and he can’t really blame her. She played messenger between the demigods and prophecies almost as must as Hermes did for the gods. It would be amusing any other time but at this moment he can’t help but feel a touch frustrated by the situation. He didn’t really have the patience to await whatever right time the oracle believed needed to happen to understand what the Hades was going on.
Almost on impulse his hand drips down to carefully brush his thumb along the metal feeling the smooth edges for a moment before there is a twist in his stomach and a flash. His eyes shut for a second the light curling around them is bright and overwhelming before it calms again.
As it calms a weight curls in Will’s palm making him raise his eyes and clench his hand tighter a realization slipping into his mind. In his hand rests a spear, it was large, almost other worldly feeling comfortable in the palm of his hand but also he could tell there was— something other strange about it, whispering almost secrets that make his insides twitch.
There is a sharp intake of breath and to the side of them as Chiron breathes out in shock, “the Pelian.”
He seemed sad and locked in a memory and at the mention of the name makes Will’s mind start turning. His eyes flick from his advisor toward the weapon before everything seems to click in place, “Wait— this is THE Pelian? You’re saying this is the weapon of the hero Achilles?”
His voice was caught in his throat for a moment his hand suddenly feeling foreign to him where it holds the wooden center of the weapon. From his right he hears the sound of wonder escape Rachel. He wished he could have calmness filling his chest but instead dread slides up his back curling around his tensing shoulders and causing him to clench his jaw sharply.
He breathes out lowly after a moment, “Chiron— please.”
Desperate for his teacher to answer, to confirm the fact of this weapon. It wasn’t right, this shouldn’t rest here in his palm or even in this continent, something twisting sharply. He did not want whatever was happening here and when his teacher nods slowly, seeming to have lost his words in response his head falls back and he forces his hand to release the spear watching the way it leans forward as if to drop but within a flash it is gone and the metal band heavy on his wrist again.
He blinks his eyes twice and then faces the sky eyes focusing on the clouds as they float about before breaking the heavy silence around them, “Fuck.”