Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The smell of smoke and silver was thick. It choked and consumed Will Solace. It clung to his hair and his clothes, and yet he didn’t move. He stared at the flames licking away at his brother. The light from the flame moved across the stones, turning his brother into ash and bone. Michael, his older brother, brave and reckless, was now burning into nothing. He was not the first hunter the vampires had taken, and he would not be the last.

 

His grave was shallow. The guild and many hunters did not believe in giving bodies back to the earth. Early on, there was a superstition about how that was one of the reasons humans were changed. The hunters know better now, but the tradition stuck. So, Michael was salted, staked, and burned, a supposed great honor.

 

Will had seen it before, but it never got easier. Watching the fire consume the body of someone you loved, someone who was once alive, who laughed, joked, and teased you only nights before, it left an ache that no silver stake or holy water could mend. He clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms to stop his hands from shaking.

 

The others at the funeral whispered prayers to Zeus, the patron of the guild, or spoke about what Michael had meant to them. Some had tried to talk to Will; he was now the oldest in his bloodline. He could not talk. His ears were ringing, his throat closed, sealing anything he might have said.

 

When the fire gave out, someone came to gather what was left of Michael. The other hunters left. They had missions to plan, vampires to kill. Will lingered staring at the blackened ground, like that would change anything.

He was a medic, not a warrior. His hands were made for stitching flesh, pressing against wounds, coaxing broken bodies back towards life. But when Michael had been dragged through the door of Zeus’s Thunder headquarters two nights ago, skin pale, throat torn and bloody, none of Will’s skills had mattered. He could not patch the absence. He could not stop the ugly fangs of death.

And now, by the guild’s logic, it was his turn to take up Michael’s place. It didn’t matter what Will wanted to do because every family needed a warrior. Without Michael, Will was the oldest. Therefore, the burden was passed down to him.

Will lifted his gaze from the ground and blinked against the sting of smoke and grief. Around the courtyard, weapons gleamed, crossbows were strung with silver, stakes sharpened to splinters, and bottles of holy water were lined along the walls.

He could already feel the weight of them pressing down on him.

“Solace.”

The voice brought him back to the present. Percy Jackson, the guild’s star. He came from the family of the big three. A descent of one of the founding brothers of the guild. The youngest but most celebrated hunter of their time and Percy was only a few years older than Will. He came to a stop next to Will, looking out at the pyre where Michael had been burned. His jacket was torn from the last mission, his sword still strapped across his back, but his expression was softer than usual.

“You’re needed at the meeting,” Percy said, almost gently. “Chiron’s drawing up new assignments. Michael wasn’t the only casualty. He’s making new groups. Anabeth is working with him as we speak.”

Will looked back at the scorched patch of earth. “Already?”

Percy hesitated. He didn’t say what they were both thinking. Hunters don’t get time to grieve. The night demanded action, it was cold and uncaring.

Will swallowed hard, forcing his hands to steady. He had no right to ask for mercy, no right to ask for more time. Not when the same creatures that had taken Michael were still out there. The nest that Michael had gone to had not been cleared. Will wouldn’t be sent on that mission, but they needed more people to patrol while the guild sent the more experienced fighters.

He followed Percy toward the guild hall, their boots crunched over the gravel. Inside, torches smoked against the stone walls. Maps covered the tables, marked with red pins for attacks, black pins for nests. The air reeked of oil, silver polish, and too much ambition.

Chiron, their commander, lifted his head as Will entered. His hair was graying, his frame broad and unshakable, but his eyes were still as sharp as ever. “Solace. You’ll go out with Lou Ellen and Clariese tomorrow night. Patrol the northern quarter. Reports of a stray.”

A stray. That meant that there was an isolated vampire, one foolish enough to wander too close to mortal streets. Normally, Will would be left to patch up the hunters after the fight. Now he was expected to join the hunt itself.

“Yes, sir,” Will said as calmly as he could manage, though his chest tightened.

Clarisse smirked from across the room, sharpening her stake. “Try not to freeze up, medic. They won’t wait for you to fumble with your bandages.”

Will’s jaw ached from how tightly he was clenching it. He didn’t want this, none of it, but the fire still burned behind his eyes, Michael’s blood still stained his memory, and there was no room for refusal. He walked out of the room and ignored Clarrise. All that was left was for Will to go home and break the news to Kayla and Austin.

They weren’t that much younger than Will. Kayla had a craving for battle that Will had only seen in Lee, their brother, who had been taken almost a year ago. They were expecting Michael home. Will was supposed to bring Michael home.

The walk back was longer than usual, though the guild’s compound wasn’t far from the house. Every step echoed in his chest, and he felt hollow. He passed torches, empty practice yards.
His house was quiet when he opened the door. Too quiet. Apollo, Will’s father, was a famous hunter, and he had many affairs, like most hunters, which is why Will had so many siblings. Apollo was never around, but he paid for the house where his children stayed, and he sent the oldest a monthly check for food and other necessities.

Kayla was sitting at the table, sharpening an arrowhead by candlelight. Austin sat slouched across from her, a book open but unread. Both of them looked up at the sound of the door, their faces lifted with the same hope that dug deep into Will’s chest and cut him to pieces.

“Where’s Michael?” Kayla asked first, because of course she did. She was direct, braver than she should have been at her age.

Will froze in the doorway. He could feel the soot still clinging to his skin, could smell the smoke in his hair, and for a moment, he thought the words might simply choke him the same way.

“He’s not coming home,” Will said finally, his voice breaking on the last word.

Austin’s book slid off the table, forgotten. Kayla’s arrow clattered to the floor.

“No,” she whispered. “No, he promised- he said he’d…”

Will crossed the room in two steps and pulled her against him before she could finish. She struggled at first, small fists hitting his chest, until the fight drained out of her and she sagged against him, trembling.

Austin’s face was pale in the candlelight. He didn’t cry, not then. He only shook his head and stared at the wall, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge of the table.

Will held them both as best he could, though his own strength felt like sand slipping through his hands. He wanted to promise them something, safety, vengeance, that he wouldn’t let anything else happen, but every promise tasted sour on his tongue.

The guild would expect Kayla to fight one day, and Austin, too. That was the way of things. The Apollo line had already given Lee and Michael to the cause, and many more before them. And now, it was Will’s turn.

But standing there, with his siblings’ grief pressed close against him, Will couldn’t stop the thought that had been gnawing at him since the pyre. If he was meant to fight, to kill, then who would be left to save the ones who bled?

He was one of the best medics of his time. Why did the guild force his hand as a fighter?

He stared past them, into the candlelight that flickered against the walls, and felt the weight of the silver stake at his belt was heavy and unnatural.

Tomorrow night, he’d be sent into the dark to hunt. To prove himself. To take Michael’s place.

 

The next day passed in a blur. He barely remembered breakfast, barely remembered Austin asking if he was going to be gone long. Time slipped between his fingers, until suddenly it was evening and his boots were on his feet and the shadows stretched long across the floorboards.

Will was halfway to the door when Kayla blocked his path, crossbow in hand. Her eyes were sharp with defiance.

“I want to go too,” she huffed, glaring at him like she was daring him to say no.

“You know you can’t,” Will sighed, adjusting the strap across his chest. “I left some of my medical books upstairs. Austin can help you read through them while I’m gone.”

“I don’t care! Lee used to take Michael, and Michael—” Her voice cracked, but she pushed through it. “You need me, Will! We all know you aren’t a fighter. You’re not like Michael.”

Her words were unexpected, and they stung. Will’s hand found the dagger at his belt, his knuckles tightening until the leather bit into his palm. His face fell.

“I’m just following orders, Kayla. You know that.” His voice broke, thinner than he wanted it to.

Something in his expression must have reached her, because her anger faltered. She opened her mouth to say something more, but Will cut her off before the cracks in his voice could spread.

“I’ll come back,” he said softly. “It’s not a nest. Just a stray.”

Kayla bit her lip, then closed the space between them and wrapped her arms tight around him. Her crossbow dug into his ribs, but Will didn’t move.

“You’d better come back,” she whispered.

Will pressed a hand against the back of her head, holding on for a moment longer than he should have, before pulling away.

The guild’s halls felt colder that night.

Lou Ellen was already waiting when Will arrived, hood pulled low over their sharp eyes. They gave him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach their face. Clarisse leaned against the table nearby, dragging a whetstone over her stake until sparks jumped off the silver.

“Finally,” Clarisse drawled when she saw him. “Hope you remembered how to use that knife, medic.”

Will ignored her, tugging his cloak tighter. Lou Ellen gave Clarisse a look that was half amusement, half warning.

“Don’t mind her,” Lou Ellen said as everyone set out. “She’s just excited at the chance to kill something.”

The city was silent and eerie. The guild had placed a curfew a few years ago when the killings and disappearances spiked. No lanterns burned in the windows, no doors creaked open. Even the wind seemed to avoid the narrow streets. Will’s boots clicked against the cobblestones, the sound too loud in the emptiness. Every shadow felt too deep, too alive.

The signs of a vampire were faint but clear. There were claw marks raked across a wooden fence, a smear of blood on the stones, a trail that wound them farther north, toward the old churchyard.
Clarisse grinned when she saw it, and she reached for her stake. “Perfect place for a bloodsucker to hide.”

Her tone sharpened as her eyes gazed at the environment, calculating. “Let’s split up. Lou Ellen, you’re sneaky and good with traps. Take the escape routes. If it bolts, make sure it doesn’t get far.”

Lou Ellen nodded and slipped into the dark.

Clarisse turned to Will, her stare heavy. “If you think you’re even close to the bloodsucker, you shoot up your flare. Or you leave and find me. Do not face this thing alone. Understand?”

Will’s stomach twisted, but Clarisse wouldn’t take no for an answer. Beneath her cold words and constant teasing, she was smart, and her plan was solid. He gave a stiff nod, and she disappeared into the church’s main hall.

Will was left alone with the silence.

He decided to start the opposite way from Clarisse. He made his way down a side corridor, the air thick with mildew and dust, which made his nose itch. Will had attached a lantern to his belt, so he took it out and lit a match to light it. The light threw wild shadows across cracked stone and broken pews. He tried to steady his breath, but the quiet was suffocating.

Then he heard a noise, low and ragged. Breathing, Will had heard this sound many times before, pained shallow breathing.

Will’s pulse leapt. He followed the sound to a half-collapsed room. The door groaned as he pushed it open, and the light from his lantern spilled across the far corner.

There, hunched against the wall, was the shadow of a boy.

He was small, thin, no older than Will himself, fifteen, maybe. Dark hair hung into his pale face, and his chest rose and fell in shuddering, uneven breaths.

For a heartbeat, Will almost thought he was human. Almost. Then the boy’s head snapped up.

Two burning, coal-dark eyes locked on him, too sharp and too hollow. A low hiss tore from his throat, his lips pulling back to bare sharp fangs.

Will stumbled back, heart hammering, his hand flying to the dagger at his belt. The boy tried to surge forward, but his body gave out. His knees buckled, and he collapsed hard against the stone floor.

That was when Will saw the wounds.

His clothes were torn, stained with dried blood. Ugly bruises covered his arms and throat, and deep cuts scattered across his skin, too many to count. The worst was the long gash that slashed across his side, still bleeding sluggishly. Another carved down his leg. Both should have healed already.

But they hadn’t, he was too weak.

Will’s breath caught. He’s starving. The only reason why a vampire wouldn’t be healing was because of a lack of blood.

The boy was shaking, his thin frame quivering with the effort just to stay upright. His lips were cracked, his fangs bared not in menace but in desperation. Will saw the raw and desperate hunger behind the vampire's eyes, but something was holding him back.

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. The silence pressed against Will’s ears, heavy and expectant. He knew what he was supposed to do, what Clarisse would do. What Michael would do. Drive the stake through his heart, and end it and kill the thing before it attacks him.

But all Will could see was the raw pain etched into the boy’s face. The way his hand trembled as he clutched at his side, as if trying and failing to hold himself together.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t attack the boy; he couldn’t run to find Clarisse. Slowly, Will let go of his dagger. His fingers went instead to the satchel at his hip.
“Don’t,” the boy rasped. His accent was strange, Italian maybe. “Stay away.”

“You’re hurt,” Will said softly, crouching, careful not to move too fast. “If you don’t let me help, you’ll die.”

The boy hissed again, pain and frustration mixing with the faint growl of his hunger. “I… don’t… need—” His voice cracked. “If you're offering blood, I don’t want it.”

Will reached for the things inside his satchel: bandages, antiseptics, and herbs. “You won’t have to. I’ll patch you up. You don’t have to drink. Actually, I would prefer to fix you up this way. No biting for me.”

The boy’s eyes flickered. Hunger pulled at him, gnawing, but he didn’t budge. He hissed softly, just loud enough to let Will know he wasn’t entirely compliant. Will slowly approached and crouched down by the vampire. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and he placed the lantern nearby to give himself some light.

Will swallowed. “I won’t hurt you. I’m a medic. I know what I’m doing.”

The boy’s fangs showed again, closer this time, a warning, but he didn’t move.

Careful and deliberate, Will exposed the worst cuts. The long slash along his ribs would need stitching. The gash on his leg, the bruises, they all needed a lot of attention. He worked quickly, his fingers steady despite the tension in the room. He had stitched up countless amounts of people, no one with fangs, though.

The boy winced with every prick of the needle, and once, he hissed, baring fangs in frustration. But he didn’t pull away; he trembled as Will worked, his blood tempting the vampire. Will’s hand brushed an ice-cold arm, and instinctively, Nico’s teeth drew back.

“See? I’ll keep you alive, and for the record, you’re… stronger than you look,” Will said quietly. “You’ve clearly been through something, but you’re still here. That’s… not nothing.”

The boy twitched, and he tried to scoff, but it came out as a dry laugh. “You… talk too much,” he muttered. “Humans.”

The vampire’s lips pressed together, eyes flickering between the stitches and Will’s calm face. He was so small, but there was fire behind the darkness, a rage, defiance, survival. Hunger tugged at him, but he resisted, letting Will work.

Finally, Will tied the last stitch, leaning back slightly to study him. “I’m Will, what’s your name?” he asked.

A pause. The dark eyes studied him, wary, distrustful, and hungry.

“Nico,” the boy whispered, voice rough.

Chapter Text

Soon after Will patched up the strange vampire, he heard footsteps coming down the hall. It was Clarisse.

Will stood up quickly, and Nico tensed, his dark eyes narrowed. Will could have sworn his pupils turned to slits, almost like a cat, but it was hard to tell in the low light.

“Stay here,” Will whispered, voice low but steady, before he moved toward the door.

He saw Clarisse easily, her figure cut through the gloom, crossbow in one hand and her stake in the other; she seemed upset.

“Anything? I can’t find this bloodsucker anywhere,” she muttered, she all but spat the words out like they tasted foul.

“No, I haven’t seen anything,” Will lied, and shifted, covering the doorway.

Clarisse’s eyes narrowed. “You sure?” She leaned to the side, trying to see past him, toward the flicker of light from the lantern inside.

Will shifted just enough to block her view with his shoulders. “Yeah. Just dust and broken pews.”

Clarisse huffed in annoyance and rolled her shoulders. “Figures. Probably ran before we got here. Cowards.” She spat on the ground, then started toward the main hall. “I’m gonna check outside. Stay in here, keep looking.”

Will nodded quickly, his heart pounding as she turned away. Her boots thudded against the stone, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the sound faded, swallowed by silence. He knew she was tense, coiled like a spring; her anger scared him.

When he turned back, Nico was watching him, distrust carved into every sharp line of his face.

“You lied for me.” His voice was rough, and the statement held more accusation than gratitude.

“You’d be ash if I didn’t,” Will shot back quietly. He closed the door, leaning against it for a moment. “Hunters don’t hesitate. Clarisse would’ve killed you before I could say a word.”

Nico’s eyes flickered, but his expression didn’t soften. “Maybe she should have. Maybe you should have.”

Will frowned, taken aback. “What does that mean?”

Nico shifted against the wall, his breath uneven. “I’m not worth saving.”

The words were sharp, but underneath them was a quiet ache that Will couldn’t ignore. He crouched back down, careful to keep his movements slow and nonthreatening. This boy laying there was tattered and broken, hardly a threat of any kind.

“You should be dead. You are clearly lacking blood, and those injuries are severe, but you’re not. You’re a fighter, and I am going to help you. It’s what I do.” Will’s tone was firm enough to leave no room for argument.

Nico bit into his bottom lip, a fang flashing briefly. His hands clenched in the torn fabric of his jacket. It took him a long moment to speak. “You are a foolish human and a lousy hunter. You don’t even know who I am.”

“Maybe I am foolish,” Will admitted with a small shrug, and he tilted his head almost like a confused dog. “And I guess I’m not very hunter-like. But I want to know more about you.” His voice softened. “Start with your name. Nico, right? Nico… what?”

Nico’s jaw tightened. “Di Angelo.”

Will didn’t push, though curiosity burned inside him. He could tell that Nico was full of secrets, but right now wasn’t the time to tear at them. Every word that the boy spoke raised more questions. Will wanted to pick apart his mind and then put it back together.

Will decided to ask more questions. “Who did this to you? The wounds, you have too many for a stray fight. Someone wanted you hurt.”

Nico stiffened, and his silence was answered enough.

Will sighed, adjusting his satchel. “Fine. Don’t tell me. But I’m not leaving you here to bleed out. You’ll need rest, at least 3 days-”

“Why?” Nico snapped, “Why would you risk everything for me? I’m a monster.”

“I know you’re not like the others,” Will said firmly. “If you were, you’d have tried to rip my throat out already.”

Nico’s lips curled into something between a sneer and a smirk. “Don’t tempt me.”

But there was no bite in his voice, only exhaustion. He reminded Will of a stray cat, all claws and hiss, until it collapsed.

The hunter shifted and looked a bit closer at the vampire. He’d never been this close to a vampire before. He wanted to reach for a dagger, it felt so heavy at his side, like it was begging for Will to use it. To kill this stray. That’s what any hunter would have done, Michael, Lee, Percy, Anabeth, hell, even the Stolls would have killed this vampire. End it quickly before he gets strong enough to lash out.

But Will’s hands didn’t move toward the weapon. Instead, his gaze lingered on the boy slumped against the wall. Nico. His name was Nico. His face was too pale, almost waxed. Blue veins spiderwebbed faintly under the skin of his throat, a sign Will recognized from the guild’s textbooks: starvation.

By all logic, this boy should already be feral. His hunger should have driven him to attack the moment Will approached. So why hadn’t he?

“You’re shaking,” Will said quietly, his voice breaking the silence that pressed too close. “If you were really gone, if you were feral, I’d already be dead.”

Nico’s head snapped up, his eyes burning. For a heartbeat, they looked black, the way the guild warned about. His lips peeled back over sharp fangs. Will didn’t move. Instead, he thought of Chiron's voice, the lessons drilled into him since childhood, Never trust the hunger. Never trust the silence. If you hesitate, you die.

Will clenched his fists. Maybe the guild was right, maybe Michael was right, but looking at Nico now, trembling, starved, and yet still holding back, he couldn’t believe it. Not completely.

He had stitched and bandaged the wounds, but none of it would matter without blood. Nico needed blood in the next few days, or he would be as good as dead. But Will wasn’t ready to cross that line.

“I’ll come back,” Will whispered. “Tomorrow night. I’ll bring more supplies. We’ll figure something out.”

“You won’t,” Nico muttered. “Not for a creature like me.”

Will didn’t answer. He just gathered his satchel, lit his lantern, and slipped into the hall. His boots echoed too loudly, every step dragging him farther from the boy in the shadows.

The team returned empty-handed, and Will could tell that it agitated Clarisse and flared her temper. Even Lou Ellen seemed upset. At least everyone made it back alive. They reached the guild hours past midnight.

There were no more missions for them, and Chiron had told Will to take it easy for a few days. Probably until another ‘safer’ mission came up. Maybe this was Chiron's way of giving Will a break.

He thought of Nico’s face as he unpacked his things and headed back to his house. He thought of how starved he’d looked, of the way his voice cracked when he said he wasn’t worth saving.

Animal blood. He’d need animal blood. Human blood would heal him faster, but Will couldn’t bring himself to offer that.

And then, what? Nico had hidden himself in a church to die, so Will could only assume he had nowhere to go. If Will gave him blood, healed him, could he… could he bring him home? With Austin and Kayla there?

Will groaned into his hands as he opened his front door. Kayla and Austin were already asleep, thank the gods. He dropped his boots, hung his coat, and collapsed onto his bed, but sleep never came easily.

 

By the next night, Will had convinced a local butcher to give him a flask of pig’s blood. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t ideal, but it was all he could get. He tucked it carefully into his satchel beside his dagger and lantern, then made the long walk back to the ruined church.

The place felt heavier tonight, and Will had to force himself forward towards the room where he knew Nico would be. He pushed the door open, and his lantern's light spilled into the room.

Nico was there. He hadn’t moved much since last night. But when he looked at Will, his eyes immediately flicked downward, snapping to the flask at his hip. Will realized with a start that he could smell the blood. He forgot how strong vampire senses are. He froze in place.

Nico’s nostrils flared. His pupils dilated, and a low hiss slipped through his teeth as he bared his fangs.

Will’s hand twitched toward his dagger, but he forced himself to stay still.

“Nico?” His voice was steady only because he forced it to be. “I’m going to throw this flask over to you, okay?” He spoke softly, like he was trying to calm a wounded animal on the edge of panic.

He pulled the flask free and rolled it across the stone floor.

The instant it was close enough, Nico lunged, and Will flinched back. His breath caught, but he couldn’t look away. The vampire tore the cap free with desperate speed, and he started to down the contents.

Nico drank like a dying man given air, and the sound was wet and greedy. The blood stained his lips, and the sight made Will’s fingers grab the hilt of his dagger. Something in him was screaming to end it before those fangs had a chance to turn on him, or run.

Will couldn’t run. His feet felt like they were rooted in place, and a sick fascination twisted with guilt in his gut. He thought of the other hunters, who never hesitated. Anyone from the guild would have called Will weak.

Maybe Will was weak; his breath caught at the way Nico’s throat worked as he swallowed, the tremor in his hands. It was wrong and it was dangerous. And still, Will couldn’t look away.

When the flask ran dry, the vampire’s shoulders sagged. He licked blood from his lips, slow and deliberate, and his eyes, still dark but clearer, lifted to meet Will’s. He looked better. The veins were nowhere to be seen, and the smaller cuts and bruises had completely healed.

Something in Will’s chest stuttered. He should feel rage, hatred, the same burning disgust he’d carried since he found Lee’s body. Instead, he felt caught, like prey pinned by a predator’s gaze, and he was unwilling to break free.

When the vampire finished, he glanced up at Will and licked his lips, cleaning off the blood. Will stared back, unsure of what to say or do, but he could tell Nico wasn’t going to say anything.

“Feeling better?” Will asked cautiously.

Nico gave a stiff nod and looked at Will like he was a figment of his imagination. “You…” Nico started to talk, but his voice was hoarse. “You came back.”

“I told you I would,” Will gave a small smile and shifted closer. “You’re still going to need more attention on those wounds. You’re not going to like it, but I need to get you out of here. I can’t give you the help you need here.”

Nico frowned and glared, “I’m fine on my own, I don’t need or want your help,” he snapped, his tone cold and harsh.

Will just huffed and crossed his arms. “This isn’t something that I am going to change my mind about.”

“Why are you doing this? You’re a hunter, I don’t understand,” Nico looked at Will, still stern but more searching, he was trying to understand the golden boy near him.

“You don’t have to understand. I just couldn’t live with myself if I just left you to die.”

“You’re making a mistake by helping me, hunter.”

“I don’t care,” Will stared at the boy in front of him, his voice unwavering.

Nico looked human enough, as long as Kayla and Austin didn’t catch sight of his fangs; he would be fine. However, now that he had the blood, he should be able to retract them. The paleness and sunken eyes could be attributed to his injuries.

Nico just sighed in defeat. “Your funeral.”

Will just looked down at the vampire and grabbed the strap of his satchel. “Can you walk?”

Nico scoffed, shifting against the wall as though the question offended him. But when he tried to push himself up, his legs wobbled, and he hissed softly through his teeth. Will was at his side in an instant, steadying him with a hand on his arm. The vampire was cold, and Will had to bite back a shiver.

“Don’t,” Nico muttered, trying to shrug him off. He didn’t want any more stabs to his pride.

“Don’t what? Stop you from face-planting into the floor?” Will shot back. “Sorry, but that’s not happening.”

Nico glared but didn’t pull away again. His weight leaned heavier than he probably meant it to as Will guided him out of the ruined church.

Outside, the night was cool, the moon bright enough to silver the dirt road. The walk back was long, too long for someone in Nico’s state, and Will knew every passing minute was a risk. But Nico said nothing, no complaint, no demand to stop, just the occasional ragged breath.

Will’s mind raced despite himself. He thought about Austin, who would panic if he found a vampire under their roof. Kayla, who’d want answers, Will wasn’t sure he had. To his older siblings, the other hunters of the guild who would never come home because a vampire took them away.

And yet, here Will was, breaking every oath the guild drilled into him, dragging one back like a stray cat he couldn’t leave behind.

“Your heart,” Nico rasped suddenly, breaking the silence. “It’s too fast. You’re nervous.”

Will stiffened, almost tripping over his own boots. He had forgotten about the heightened hearing. “Yeah, well, forgive me for not being totally relaxed walking through town with a vampire in tow.”

Nico’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “You did this to yourself, hunter. You’re insane.”

“Probably,” Will said, tightening his grip when Nico stumbled again. “But at least I’m consistent.”

By the time they reached Will’s neighborhood, he felt his nerves weighing down on his chest. He slowed their pace, scanning the windows of his home; they were all dark. Good. He eased Nico toward the side door, the one that creaked less, and reached into his bag to get out the spare key.

When he glanced at Nico again, his stomach tightened. The vampire’s fangs were still visible, sharp white against pale lips, flashing when the lantern caught them.

“You need to… hide those,” Will whispered, glancing at the vampire.

Nico blinked, confused. “Hide what?”

“Your fangs,” Will muttered, gesturing vaguely at his mouth. “If Kayla or Austin sees them, hell, if anyone does, they’ll know what you are. Can’t you… I don’t know, put them away?”

Nico gave him a long, flat look, like Will had asked him to sprout wings. But then, with a slow exhale, his jaw shifted. The sharp canines receded until his teeth looked almost human. They were still slightly sharper than normal.

Will tried not to stare. “Better,” he said, voice low. “Just… keep them away.”

“Wait, you said two names just now. Are there other hunters here?” Nico looked at Will, his gaze untrusting.

“Well, yes I have two siblings, but they should be sleeping. Don’t worry about it.”

“Wonderful.”

Will gave the vampire a flat look at his sarcastic tone, then turned back to the door, heart pounding. He slid the key into the lock, twisted, and pushed. The door opened, and when Will tried to walk in, Nico wouldn’t budge. He huffed and looked back at the dark-haired boy.

“I can’t,” Nico said simply.

Will turned, frowning. “What do you mean you can’t?”

Nico’s dark eyes flicked toward the threshold, then back at him. “Your home. I can’t enter unless you invite me in.”

A chill prickled the back of Will’s neck. The guild had taught him that rule, but hearing it from a vampire’s mouth made it real in a way the books never had. He gripped the doorframe, torn between every lesson drilled into him, don’t give them power, don’t give them ground, don't let them in, and the boy leaning heavily on his arm.

Nico swayed, his pride stretched thin over his weakness. He didn’t ask for the invitation. He just stood there, silent, like he was ready to collapse on the porch if Will said no.

Will swallowed, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. “Come on in, Nico.”

Something shifted in the air, subtle and heavy. Nico’s shoulders relaxed, and he stepped across the threshold. Will followed, locking the door quickly behind them.

The house was warm, and Will realized how alive it felt, how human, and how violently Nico’s presence clashed with it.

He led him quickly down the hall to his room, easing the door shut behind them.

Nico sank onto the edge of Will’s bed with a tired exhale. His dark eyes roved over the room, pausing on the cluttered books, the bow strung neatly in the corner, the soft blue quilt Kayla had stitched.

“This is a mistake,” Nico muttered again, quieter this time, but he made no move to stand up.

Will leaned against the door, heart still pounding. “Probably. But it’s my mistake to make.”

For the first time since the church, Nico looked less like a cornered animal and more like a boy who didn’t know whether to stay or run.

Chapter Text

Will had spent the night on the couch in the living room, curled up under a blanket that did little to stop the cold. He’d left Nico alone in his room with the curtains drawn, and he hoped that the vampire would actually stay put and not kill him in his sleep or something.

The couch was lumpy, and the air was too still. Even half-asleep, Will kept glancing at the closed hallway door, waiting for a sound that didn’t come — a breath, a scrape, anything that meant the thing he’d brought home was still there.

“Why aren’t you in your room?”

Will woke up to Kayla’s voice, which was sharp, amused, and way too loud for the morning, followed by a jab to his ribs.

He groaned and rubbed at his face. “It’s a long story.”

Kayla rolled her eyes and sat on the edge of the couch. “Okay, well, you need to find a way to make it short. I’m gonna make breakfast and then you are going to tell me what’s up with you,”

She disappeared into the kitchen before he could come up with a decent lie. Will let out a long breath and stared at the ceiling. Yeah. That’s gonna go great. ‘Hey, so I found this injured vampire and kinda just… brought him home. He’s fine! Mostly!’

Right. Totally normal breakfast conversation with a completely normal explanation.

He dragged himself to the table a few minutes later, drawn in by the smell of fresh eggs, toast, and juice. The scent should have felt comforting or even grounding. Instead, it only reminded him of how fragile everything had begun to feel recently, how easily his slice of normalcy could collapse.

He ate quietly and ignored the questioning glances of his siblings and tried to act casual, like he hadn’t committed treason last night.

“Literally just tell us what’s up. Stop being so mysterious,” Austin finally spoke, his fork clinked against his plate.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Will said as he stabbed at his eggs like they had personally attacked him. “There was this boy, and he was really hurt, and so I… brought him here.”

The two younger siblings stared at Will like he had grown another head. “Why the hell didn’t you bring him to a hospital? Or the guild's infirmary or something?” Kayla asked, and her eyes narrowed, following her older brother's gaze toward the closed door. “Will.” Her voice sharpened. “Who’s in there?”

Will’s stomach twisted. The clatter of his fork against the plate felt too loud. He could feel Nico beyond that wall, an almost physical awareness pressing against his ribs.

“Just someone who needed help,” Will said, as carefully as he could, and he tried not to choke on the lie.

Austin frowned. “You brought some random injured guy home? Without telling us? What if he’s dangerous?”

The words stung because they were too close to the truth. Will swallowed hard. Dangerous didn’t even begin to cover it.

“I patched him up,” he said, shrugging like it was no big deal. “He just needed a place to crash. It’s fine.”

Neither of Will’s siblings looked convinced, but they exchanged a look and dropped it for now.

“Whatever,” Kayla muttered as she stood up and put her plate in the sink, and grabbed her training gear, Austin following suit. “We both have to get to training, this is survival week, so we’ll be out camping. I don’t know when we’ll be back. Please don’t do anything stupid, Will,” Kayla frowned at him as she spoke.

Will had completely forgotten about the survival camp. “I can’t promise anything,” he said as he got up to walk his siblings to the door and hugged them both tightly. “Stay safe, you two.”

When the house finally went quiet, he just stood there for a second, staring at the empty hallway. Then he grabbed his jacket and headed out.

 

The butcher was already starting to get suspicious. Too many questions, not enough excuses. ‘My friend’s iron-deficient’ wasn’t going to work much longer.

When Will got back, the sun was higher. He slipped quietly into his room.

Nico was awake. Pale against the sheets, and staring at nothing. Even now, he looked better, less half-dead, but still fragile in a way that made Will’s chest ache.

Will walked over to the bed and spoke softly, “How are you feeling, Dracula?”

Nico huffed and gave the human a dry look, “That is incredibly offensive.”

For a moment, Will was worried he had actually crossed a line, until he saw the faint smirk at the corner of the vampire's lips.

Will grinned. “Good. I think worse names that bother you later.”

“I’m sure you will.”

The human nodded toward the bandages. “Now, c’mon, let me see your wounds. I brought more blood, you can have after I take a look,” Will said and moved closer.

Nico shifted uncomfortably, but at least he was compliant. He sat up and moved the blankets so that Will could examine his wounds more easily. He pulled off the bandages and saw that they were closing fast, but still not as fast as they should.

Will frowned, “You’re healing too slowly.”

Nico shifted his weight again and rested a hand loosely over his stomach. “Your sunlight isn’t helping.”

Will blinked, “My what now?”

“The sun slows the healing down,” Nico said, looking down and continuing in a quieter voice. “And I'm still hungry.” He looked at Will’s bag, where he could smell the animal blood. He still hadn't had enough blood. If he wanted to heal fully, he would need human blood.

The hunter sat down on the edge of the bed and set the blood container beside Nico. “Drink slower this time, yeah? You nearly drained the last one in seconds.”

Nico’s lips twitched. “Animal blood is hardly something worth savoring, and like I said, I’m hungry.”

Will rolled his eyes and laughed uneasily, “Sorry, I left my human blood stash in my other jacket.”

Nico ignored him, opened the container with an easy flick of his hand, and drank. Will tried not to stare. He tried really hard, but he ended up failing miserably. He was caught by the way Nico’s throat moved, the faint flex of his jaw, and the unnatural grace even in something as raw as feeding.

When Nico finally lowered the blood, his voice was quieter. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

Will tilted his head. “Feeding you?”

“Helping me.” Nico didn’t look at him when he said it. His tone wasn’t biting this time, just tired, maybe even resigned.

The human rubbed at the back of his neck. “You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true.” Nico set the container down carefully. “If your guild finds out, they’ll probably imprison you and kill me anyway. Or worse.”

Will gave a short, humorless laugh. “I think death already counts as the ‘worse’ in this scenario.”

Nico’s gaze flicked to him, then to his hands, pale and still, fingers flexing slightly like he was testing if they still worked. “You joke around too much.”

Will glanced up, and he wanted so badly to ask, What happened to you?, but stopped himself. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer.

Instead, he said softly, “You aren’t like the other vampires I’ve seen.”

The vampire’s eyes went to look at Will. “And how many have you ‘seen’?”

Will hesitated. “A few. Mostly during guild hunts. Usually they’re—” he paused, unsure.

“Ravenous,” Nico supplied, voice bitter. “Ferals. The kind your guild makes easy examples of.”

Will’s silence said enough.

Nico studied him for a long moment. “And what are you doing in a hunter’s guild, Will Solace? I’ve met hunters before. None of them looked at me the way you do.”

That made Will’s chest tighten in a way he didn’t want to think about. “And how exactly do I look at you?”

“Like you’re trying to convince yourself I’m not a monster,” Nico said. His tone was matter-of-fact.

“Maybe I am.”

The room fell quiet again, save for the faint tick of the clock down the hall.

After a long moment, Will stood and collected the used bandages. He was growing agitated and wanted something to do with his hands. “You should rest. I’ll check on you later.”

“You’re leaving again?”

Will shrugged. “I’m not going far, just outside the door.” Before Will left, he turned to the vampire, “You should smile more often. It makes you seem less like… you know.”

Nico arched a brow. “Like a blood-sucking corpse?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Noted,” Nico said dryly, though the faint amusement never left his voice.

 

By midday, the house had settled into an uneasy calm. The sunlight stayed obediently behind the curtains, and Nico slept again, as if his body demanded it. Will cleaned the kitchen, checked the locks, and tried to ignore the constant tug of anxiety gnawing at his ribs.

He finally sat down at the kitchen table, staring at the untouched second cup of coffee Kayla had left behind. His hands shook slightly.

He couldn’t do this forever. If anyone found out, even Austin or Kayla, it would all be over for both of them. And yet… he didn’t regret it. Not even a little.

Will pushed his fingers through his hair and exhaled. “You’re an idiot,” he muttered to himself.

“Agreed.”

Will nearly fell out of his chair. Nico stood in the doorway, barefoot and pale but steady, his dark eyes faintly luminous in the dim light. He was beautiful and dangerous all at once.

“You’re supposed to be resting!” Will hissed.

Nico gave a small shrug. “I was tired of lying down.”

“Yeah, well, I’m tired of lying in general, but here we are.”

Nico ignored the comment and took a step closer. His movements were quieter than they should’ve been; vampires tend not to make a sound when they walk.

“You shouldn’t push yourself,” Will said, standing. “You’re still—”

“I’m fine,” Nico interrupted, though his voice had a thin edge to it, like he was trying to convince himself. “I don’t want to be alone in that room anymore.”

Will folded his arms. “You look like you’ll pass out if I breathe too loudly.”

Nico’s glare softened a fraction. “You really have no sense of self-preservation.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told.”

For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, then Will sighed. “Alright, fine. You can sit in the living room if you promise not to die on my couch.”

Nico’s mouth twitched. “You have very specific rules for guests.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a very specific kind of guest.”

They settled in the living room with Will sitting cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a half-written report for the guild, and Nico draped over the couch.

“So,” Nico said after a long moment, “you lied to your family for me. You steal blood for me. And you still wear that ridiculous guild insignia.”

Will glanced down at the small patch stitched on his jacket sleeve. “It’s not ridiculous.”

“Do you hate them?”

“I don’t—” Will’s throat tightened. “I don’t hate them.”

“Then why hide me? Is this some rebellion thing?” Nico tilted his head, voice quiet but probing. “Some kind of defiance against your precious guild?”

Will snapped the notebook shut a little too hard. “Because if I had done nothing, you would be dead,” he said, sharper than he meant to. “You think I don’t know how wrong this is? I just—” He broke off, hands running through his hair.
He didn’t want to meet Nico’s eyes, but he did anyway. “I saw you bleeding out in that alley. Everyone else would’ve walked past or finished you off. I couldn’t.”

Nico studied him for a long moment. His eyes softened with understanding.

“You’re a terrible hunter,” he said quietly.

Will huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Guess I am.”

 

Dusk came creeping in. The sunlight turned from gold to orange, and the room filled with the kind of glow that made dust hang heavy in the air. Nico was half-asleep on the couch, his features slack and calm for once.

Will sat nearby, knees drawn to his chest and a pen in his hand, but no words on the page. The quiet between them had stopped feeling dangerous. It was almost peaceful, in a fragile way that made him afraid to move.

He found his eyes drifting to Nico’s face again. It was almost eerie to look at a vampire this close. The feeling was uncanny because the vampire’s features were, in a way, too perfect. It wasn’t human beauty; it was something sharper, like glass, dangerous if you touched it. His skin was pale yet remarkably smooth. His hair, dark against the arm of the couch, seemed so soft, and his lips were parted, but they seemed so full. Looking at him like this, Will thought he understood why many people could fall into a vampire’s trap, drawn in by their appearance.

Without thinking, Will muttered, “He looks almost human like that.”

Nico’s eyes opened instantly, catching the fading light. “Almost?”

Will froze, heart jumping to his throat. “I ah- you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

Will opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His tongue felt clumsy in his mouth, his brain spinning for something that didn’t sound stupid.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I meant you don’t look like you’re about to murder me. That’s all.”

Nico arched a brow. “Apologies for not meeting your vampire standard.”

“That’s not—” Will sighed. “You know what, forget it.”

“Mhm,” Nico murmured, eyes closing again. “You’re easy to provoke.”

“I’m easy to annoy,” Will shot back.

“Same thing.”

“It’s not.”

Nico hummed, that faint smirk ghosting his lips. “Feels like it is.”

 

Will tried not to smile. Gods, he hated how easy it was to fall into this rhythm with him, the teasing. Nico was quickly turning himself into someone Will knew he wouldn’t be able to lose, and it was terrifying in the same way it was addicting.

Then Nico’s voice shifted into something quieter. “Why did you really help me?”

Will stilled. He’d known that question was coming; he just hadn’t wanted it spoken aloud.

“I told you,” he said finally. “You were hurt. I couldn’t just leave you there.”

“That’s not the whole reason,” Nico said. His tone wasn’t cruel or accusatory, just certain. “Humans don’t risk their lives for vampires. Not unless they have something to gain.”

Will clenched his jaw. “Not all humans are the same.”

“And you’re the exception?”

“Maybe I just don’t like watching people die!” The words came out louder than he meant them to. He dragged a hand over his face, “Gods, you really know how to dig under my skin.”

Nico tilted his head slightly. “That’s not hard. You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

“Yeah, well,” Will muttered, “someone has to.”

Nico watched him then, really watched him, and for a fleeting second, Will saw something vulnerable in his eyes. It was not pity, but understanding.

“You’re strange, Will Solace,” he said quietly.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it keeps being true.”

Will let out a small laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly normal either, Lord of Darkness.”

Nico groaned softly, tipping his head back. “That one’s worse than Dracula.”

“I’ll take that as encouragement.”

“Of course you will,”

The laughter faded, but the warmth stayed. Will cleared his throat, desperate to say something that wasn’t dangerously revealing. “You should eat again later. I can get more blood tomorrow, maybe even from the market farther north. Less suspicion.”

Nico frowned. “You shouldn’t risk that.”

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have gone and gotten yourself nearly killed in the first place.”

“I didn’t exactly plan for that,” Nico said dryly.

“Still happened.”

“Are you always this irritating? Or am I just lucky?”

“Only when I care,” Will said before he could stop himself.

The words hung there, heavy and too honest. Nico’s gaze snapped to him, and Will felt his heartbeat stutter in his throat. The room suddenly felt too small.

“I meant,” Will said quickly, “in general. About people.” His voice cracked, and gods, he could feel his ears burning.

The faintest smile tugged at Nico’s mouth. “You’re terrible at lying.”

“I’m great at lying,” Will said, defensive now. “I lie all the time.”

“Then you’re terrible at lying to me.”

That made Will’s breath catch because he didn’t know how Nico could say things like that so calmly, steadily, and confidently when Will felt like his heart was trying to claw out of his chest.

He tried to laugh it off, flipping his notebook open again, “You’ve known me for what? Two days? You don’t get to psychoanalyze me yet.”

“I don’t need two days,”

Will didn’t look up. He didn’t think he could.

Outside, the light faded into the deep amber of sunset. The air between them grew still again, waiting for something to break it.

Nico shifted on the couch, his eyes flicking toward the window. “It’s getting dark.”

“Yeah.”

Nico was watching him again, something unreadable in his expression. “You aren’t worried?”

Will raised an eyebrow. “What do I have to be worried about?”

“About being alone in the dark with a vampire who hasn’t fed enough.”

Will froze. There was no humor in Nico’s tone. His stillness was predatory now, unnatural in how perfectly he held it. The sharpness in his eyes caught the dim light, and for a split second, every instinct in Will screamed at him to run. Get away from this creature. And yet he didn’t move.

He swallowed, forcing his voice to stay steady. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

Nico blinked once, slowly, his fangs catching faintly in the dim light. “You sound very sure of that.”

“I am.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

Will’s pulse thundered, but he didn’t back away. Instead, he moved closer. It was a small, deliberate motion that made his heart skip a beat. That seemed to be happening a lot in the vampire’s presence. “Then prove me wrong.”

Nico’s breath hitched. For a moment, neither of them moved. The distance between them felt electric. Will could see every small detail now, the tension in Nico’s jaw, the hunger flickering behind restraint.

Then Nico turned away sharply, hands gripping the armrest of the couch hard enough to splinter wood. “Don’t do that.”

Will’s voice softened. “Do what?”

“Move closer to me when you know I can smell your blood.”

That should’ve terrified him more than it did. Instead, Will’s chest hurt in an entirely different way, something sad and almost protective.

“I trust you,” he said quietly.

Nico laughed under his breath, but he wasn’t amused. “You are probably the most foolish human I have ever come across.”

“Probably,” Will murmured.

Nico didn’t respond right away. He leaned back against the couch, eyes closing like the effort of restraint had exhausted him. It probably did.

Will finally moved and sat down in the chair across from him. Neither boy said anything else for a long while.

Eventually, Nico spoke, his voice was softer than before, the sharp edges dulled. “You really are strange.”

“I know.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Will woke up to soft, golden sunlight pressing through the curtains. His neck ached from sleeping in the chair. He must have fallen asleep at some point the night before while talking to Nico. He blinked blearily toward the couch.

Nico was still there. He didn’t really know what he was expecting, but it was strangely comforting to see that the raven-haired boy hadn’t gone anywhere.

The vampire hadn’t moved much from the night before. He was draped over the couch, feet across the side and head on the armrest, which, to be honest, didn’t look much more comfortable than Will’s chair.

Will watched the slow rise and fall of Nico’s chest. He looked better this morning; the bruised hollows under his eyes had faded to something that Will thought was more natural for the other instead of sickness. His hair had fallen across his face, and Will’s first ridiculous thought was that he wanted to brush it away.

He caught himself staring and looked at the floor instead.

Get a grip, Solace.

He stood as silently as he could manage and stretched the stiffness from his limbs. Even though he attempted to be quiet, the vampire stirred.

“Morning,” Will murmured before he could stop himself.

Nico didn’t answer right away. His eyes flickered open, though, dark and distant. “Mn,” he mumbled softly. The noise tugged at his chest in a way he didn’t want to think about, so he ignored it.

For a moment, they just looked at each other. It wasn’t awkward exactly, more like neither of them knew how to act normally anymore.

Will cleared his throat. “I should probably get more blood.”

Nico’s gaze slid toward him, quiet and unreadable. “You shouldn’t keep doing that.”

“Yeah, I know, but unless you have a better idea, I’m going.” Will left the room to go to his own, and changed into new clothes. It occurred to him then that Nico probably needed new clothes too.

He shuffled through his closet to find something that he thought the other boy wouldn’t despise. Eventually, he settled on sweatpants and an old black shirt he didn’t even know he owned.

Will passed the pile of clothes to Nico and, with that, grabbed his jacket, dagger, and tied his boots.

Before the blonde could leave, Nico spoke up, “I still think that you’re acting incredibly foolish, human.”

Will smiled despite himself. “You’re going to have to come up with a better nickname and catchphrase. Use that dark and mysterious brain of yours and be more original.”

“I could call you, fleshbag.”

Will clicked his tongue, “See, now that’s worse, I would prefer something more along the lines of super amazing life-saving medic.”

That earned him the faintest ghost of a smirk and an eye roll, which he decided to take as encouragement.

 

The market was already crowded by the time he got there. The air was thick with the smell of cooked meat, old smoke, and something sour. Vendors shouted over one another, selling silver trinkets, crossbow bolts, garlic charms, all the usual paranoia. It was bustling and overwhelming in a refreshing way.

Will kept his hood low and his mouth shut. The guild’s insignia on his jacket sleeve caught in the light sometimes so he tucked it out of sight. The guild was a big deal, and many people would recognize its symbol. Will didn’t want people coming up to him to talk about the guild because he knew it would only dampen his mood.

The butcher gave him a long look when he asked for pig’s blood again.

“Your friend’s still iron-deficient?” the man asked dryly.

“Nah, today I’m running errands for the guild,” Will said and flashed the sign on his jacket.” It’s a new training thing, for the medics.”

The butcher grunted and filled a flask, muttering something about strange medics, but he knew better than to question the guild's authority. Will paid quickly and left. He didn’t want to be there a second longer than he had to.

On the walk home, Will looked up at the sun. He hated how it made him think of Michael and his obnoxiously contagious broad grin, the way his freckles caught on the gold light. He could still remember his laugh the night before he got called on the mission when Will had burned himself on silver tools. Will hoped he would never forget. Every now and then, Will sometimes forgets things about Lee. He can’t remember what his voice sounded like anymore. For a heartbeat, the world went hollow. When you’re a hunter, loss is a part of the job, and Will knows that. He knows. But he never makes it any easier.

Nico had been a good distraction, but now, alone in the bustling market, Will felt like he was drowning. He ducked into an alley and pressed a hand to his ribs. The memory came in flashes: Michael’s body on the pyre, the smell of salt and smoke, and his body-

“Stop,” Will whispered to no one. “Just—stop.”

He breathed until the ache dulled. Then he walked home; he couldn’t get torn up about this. It wasn’t the time.

When he got back, the house was dim and quiet with the curtains closed. Nico hadn’t moved far. He sat upright now, pale hands clasped loosely in his lap. However, he was wearing the clothes that Will set out for him.

They were baggy on him because Will was taller and broader. He had to tear his gaze away.

Will set the flask on the table nearby. “Your breakfast.”

Nico’s eyes flicked toward it, pupils dilating faintly, but he didn’t move.

“You can drink it, you know.”

“I can also not drink it,” Nico said, quiet but sharp.

Will frowned. “Are you trying to make my life more difficult, or does it just come naturally to you?”

Nico looked at him then, almost drinking the human in. His eyes were darker than usual, something wild and trembling under the surface of them. “You keep doing things like this for me. I don’t want your help.”

Will blinked at him. The words didn’t sound angry or defensive. They sounded small, like Nico was bracing himself for something Will hadn’t said yet. Rejection maybe?

“You say that,” Will said, crossing his arms, “but you still aren’t better, and I don’t think you would be able to get blood on your own, so forgive me if I don’t take your declarations of independence very seriously.”

Nico’s jaw tensed. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” Will pushed gently.

The black-haired boy was silent for a moment while he looked down at his hands and curled his fingers into the hem of his borrowed shirt. Like this, he looked ashamed, like the words were caught behind his teeth.

Finally, Nico murmured, his voice thin, “I don’t want to owe you. That’s what this is. Every time you leave the house for me. Every time you bring this—” he nodded at the flask “—you tie yourself to something you shouldn’t. To me. And I don’t want that. I don’t want to owe anyone anything.”

Oh.

That… wasn’t what Will expected. It made his chest tighten painfully because Nico wasn’t pushing him away to be difficult. He was pushing him away because he thought Will deserved better than to be tangled up with someone like him, a desperate vampire, hunted, half-starved, and dangerous even when he didn’t want to be. He didn’t want to be in debt to a hunter.

“Nico,” Will said softly, “I don’t see it like that. I don't expect you to pay me back for anything. You needed help, I would never hold that over your head.”

“You should,” Nico’s voice was sharp. “Hunters don’t help vampires. Humans don’t help monsters. Yet you—” His voice broke for half a second, barely enough to catch. “You look at me like I’m something else. And that isn’t fair.”

Will stepped closer before he could stop himself. “Not fair to who?”

Nico’s eyes flicked up to him, dark, searching, and pained.

“Not fair to you,” Nico whispered.

Will breathed out slowly. “You don’t get to decide what’s fair for me. I am old enough to make my own decisions. I will take the blame for whatever I have to. I understand what it means to help you.”

That shut Nico up, not like he was defeated, but like Will had gently short-circuited whatever careful emotional wall he’d been constructing.

Will nudged the flask toward him again. “Drink.”

Nico hesitated for a moment, then finally reached for it. His hand shook, just barely.

Nico lifted the flask, drinking slowly this time instead of tearing into it. Will leaned against the edge of the table, the wood cool beneath him, and watched the way Nico’s throat worked with each swallow. There was something unsettlingly human about it. Something vulnerable.

“You’re still shaking,” Will said quietly.

“Animal blood,” Nico muttered. “It’s weak.”

“But it helps,” Will murmured.

“Yes,” Nico admitted, “but it doesn’t… steady me.”

The morning light filtered faintly through the curtains, catching dust in the air, illuminating the sharp lines of Nico’s face.

“Do you want help steadying?” Will asked before he could overthink it.

Nico’s head snapped up, clearly startled.

Will felt heat climb into his cheeks, “I didn’t mean— like that,” Will backtracked. “I meant emotionally. Or I don’t know. Physically. Sitting. Breathing. Whatever.”

“You’re terrible at specifying things,” Nico said, but his voice wavered with a thin thread of amusement.

Will just huffed, and then Nico's eyes caught on something behind him. Pictures of Will and his siblings. Will was a lot younger in those, and Michael and Lee were in a few of them.

“Your brothers?” Nico asked softly.

“Yes”

“Are they hunters?”

Will nodded, heartbeat thudding. “Yeah. They were hunters. Died for the cause. It’s just Austin, Kayla, and me now.”

“The cause,” the vampire echoed as he thought it over. “Vampires.” He phrased it like a question, but they both knew the answer.

“Yeah,” Will answered anyway, his tone steady as he asked, “Does that confuse you?”

“It terrifies me,” Nico said honestly.

“That’s okay,” Will said gently. “I think I’m a little terrified, too.”

Nico looked at him, and his eyes softened slowly, like thawing ice.

“…Thank you,” he said, barely audible. “Even if I don’t know what to do with your help.”

Will smiled at that. “Start by finishing your breakfast.”

Nico huffed. “Pushy.”

“Yeah, well, someone has to keep you alive.”

Eventually, Nico leaned back against the couch again, eyes closed, breathing slow and uneven. The hunger hadn’t vanished; it never really did, but it was quieter now, dulled enough to let exhaustion take over. Will watched the rise and fall of his chest, and he could practically see the tension.

“You should shower,” Will said finally. “You’re still covered in blood. Old and new.”

Nico tilted his head. “I don’t need—”

“I know,” Will cut in gently. “But you’ll feel better. The grime isn’t helping. With your healing, and I don’t want you to start smelling,” he teased. When Nico didn’t say anything, Will spoke again, “You don’t have to. It’s just a thought.”

Nico hesitated, then sighed as the fight had drained out of him. “Whatever.”

Will smiled faintly and stood, already heading down the hall. “C’mon, bat boy.”

The bathroom was small and dim, lit only by the muted daylight sneaking through the window. Will turned the water on and tested it with his wrist, adjusting until it was warm but not scalding. When he glanced back, Nico was still standing in the doorway. Will noticed the way his shoulders were set, how carefully he held himself, like any wrong movement would split him open again.

“Your ribs,” Will said quietly, “be careful, too much movement might pull your stitches.”

Nico’s jaw tightened. “I can manage.”

Will nodded immediately. “Okay.”

The human shifted a bit and then gestured to a folded towel. “For when you’re done. I’m.. I’ll wait just outside in case you need help. You can tell me to leave at any point, too.”

Nico nodded and stepped into the bathroom as Will stepped out. Once the vampire was in will rested his head against the wall and rubbed his hands over his face. He tried to ignore the sound of water hitting skin.

This was fine. This was normal. People helped injured people all the time. He’d done this a hundred times in the guild infirmary without thinking twice. It only felt different because it was different this time.

Because Nico was a vampire. Because Will was alone with him. Because Will had already crossed so many lines, he didn’t know where the edges were anymore. He sighed and stared at the opposite doorframe, counting his breaths until his shoulders loosened.

Then there was a sharp, involuntary sound from inside the bathroom, and Will froze.

He heard Nico call out, his voice was strained, “...Will?”

He was moving before he thought about it. “Yeah,” he said immediately, keeping his voice light as he pushed the door open just a crack. “What’s wrong?”

Nico stood under the spray, his shoulders hunched, and one arm braced against the tile. Water ran down his back in thin lines. His breath came shallow, controlled in that way Will recognized all too well; he was in pain.

“I can’t—” Nico stopped, jaw tightening like the words tasted wrong. “My ribs.”

Will nodded, “Okay. That’s okay.” He stayed where he was. He didn't press the door open anymore and didn’t step inside. “Do you want help, or do you want me to just… talk you through it?”

Nico hesitated. Then, barely audible, “Help.”

Will stepped inside. He moved slowly, deliberately, the way he did when he was afraid of making things worse. “Tell me if I’m too close,” he murmured. “Or if you want me to stop.”

Nico didn’t look at him, but he nodded. “I just need help washing my hair.”

Will didn’t say anything else. He rolled up his sleeves and shifted closer, reaching carefully, fingers brushing dark hair, guiding Nico’s head back under the water so he didn’t have to lift his arms. His touch was light, almost tentative, like Nico might shatter if he pressed too hard.

That was when Will saw the scar, well, he saw a lot of scars. Nico’s back was a canvas of stories made from uneven skin. The one that caught Will’s attention most was a long and uneven, jagged line that curved over his back in a way that made Will’s stomach drop. It was old and poorly healed. Silver burn scars spiderwebbed around it, faint but unmistakable.

Will swallowed hard, his fingers brushed over it softly, and when Nico tensed, Will recoiled immediately and went back to his hair, putting shampoo on his hands and gently massaging it into the vampire's hair.

“…That wasn’t a fight,” he said quietly, more observation than question.

Nico stiffened beneath his hands. “No.”

Will continued to rub the shampoo into his hair, but he paused, giving the other a moment. “Hunters?”

The silence stretched, but Will didn’t push for anything more.

“…They wanted information,” Nico said at last. “About my father. They kept me alive on purpose,” Nico continued, voice flat. “Just enough blood to heal. Not enough to fight back.”

Something cold and sharp twisted in Will’s gut. He thought of guild training rooms. Of silver tools laid out neatly on clean tables, he was taught how to do just that. Where to attack that would be a kill shot, where to attack to weaken. He knew how to make a wound like that. He wondered how many monsters had been told that they deserve it. He wondered how many of those monsters looked like Nico.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and the words felt small but necessary.

Nico shrugged, the movement careful. “It was a long time ago. I got away.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

Neither said anything to one another as Will washed the shampoo out and applied the conditioner. His gaze traced over more scars on Nicos's back. There were mostly claw marks and what looked like a werewolf bite on his shoulder. Will figured the gash along his ribs would scar, too.

When Nico was done, Will handed him a towel and turned away to give him space. He only stepped back in to help rewrap the worst of the wounds, his hands steady even when his thoughts weren’t.

“You don’t have to stay here forever,” Will said quietly as he tied the last bandage. “I’m not trying to trap you.”

Nico looked at him for a long moment.

“I know Solace,” he said.

Will smiled softly and walked back towards the living room, the other following close behind. He hated how he could feel himself growing accustomed to this, growing accustomed to Nico. He wanted Nico here; he wanted him to stay so badly it hurt.

They settled back in the living room again, this time both sitting on the same couch. Nico glanced over and closed his eyes, but spoke up, he was curious and, for once, felt like he could voice his curiosity, “You... you're a medic, for the guild, right?”

 

Will looked at him, “Yeah, I am, I’m the head medic,” he said softly.

“Oftly young to be a leader, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, well..” Will tangled his hands together. He could almost feel the ghost of Nicos' soft hair in his hands. “Hunters don’t always get to live that long.”

“Does that ever scare you? What if you get sent out on a mission you don’t come back from?” Nico was looking at Will now, his gaze was searching.

“What scares me the most is leaving Kayla and Austin alone. I don’t want to do that to them.” Will hesitated for a moment, sorting out his thoughts before speaking again, “It is scary, but it’s all I know. My whole family are hunters, my friends. We’ve all been hunters for generations, and I don’t know what I would be without it. And medicine is my passion, which in particular runs in the family.”

Will swallowed thickly, and Nico was quiet for a long moment after that.

The house felt smaller in the silence. Will shifted his hands in his lap. Even to himself, the movement was stiff and awkward, but he was too aware of them. They were the same hands that had bandaged Nico’s wounds, washed his hair, and touched scars that had never been meant for him to see.

“That explains a lot,” Nico said finally.

Will glanced over. “What does?”

“Why are you like this?” Nico replied. “Why do you keep trying to fix things that were never meant to be put back together?”

Will huffed softly. “You say that like it’s a flaw.”

“It is,” Nico said, but there was no bite to it. If anything, there was something careful in his voice now as he murmured, “It’s just… not a bad one. Imperfections aren’t always a bad thing.”

Will was quiet as he turned Nico's words over in his head, ‘not always a bad thing.’ He supposed Nico was right, a flaw doesn’t have to be negative. Flaws and imperfections are part of being human. The golden-haired boy didn’t know what to say. And so they sat there, shoulder to shoulder but not touching. Will could feel the heat of him anyway. The feeling was strange, given what Nico was. He wondered, distantly, if that warmth was real or if his body was just filling in gaps where it wanted there to be something solid.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Nico added, quieter. “About the guild. Or your family. You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.”

Will nodded. He appreciated that more than he could say.

Still, the words slipped out before he could stop them. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

Nico turned his head slightly, dark eyes focused on him. “That doesn’t mean you can’t learn.”

Will swallowed. The idea was strange; it wasn't something he had never thought of, but hearing someone else say it out loud made it sound real. The feeling he had was unsettling, dangerous, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t respond, not because he disagreed, but because he wasn’t ready to admit how much he wanted that to be true.

Nico leaned back into the couch, exhaustion finally pulling him under again. His eyes fluttered closed, lashes dark against pale skin. For a second, Will thought he was asleep.

Then Nico spoke, barely audible. “Thank you again. For today.”

Will wasn’t expecting that he tilted his head. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I know,” Nico murmured. “I just wanted to.”

His breathing evened out not long after. Will stayed still, listening to it, watching the subtle rise and fall of his chest. Nico’s head tipped slightly in his direction, close enough that Will could feel the brush of his hair against his shoulder.

He didn’t move away.

He didn’t move closer either.

Will shifted a bit, then stared ahead, looking at the fireplace that was never really lit. His heart felt heavy and strangely calm all at once. He didn’t know how to process his thoughts. The idea of chasing after something new was tempting but also revolting in a way, because no one had ordered him to stay here. Because no one would punish him for leaving. He wondered how long he would be able to keep this. He knew eventually that Nico would get better. What would he do then? How was he supposed to go back to the guild after all of this?