William Solace was nestled deeply in a massive, soft beanbag in the infirmary, his eyelids growing heavy as warm sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting a golden glow around the room. He was slipping into a peaceful slumber when the sudden entrance of four figures jolted him awake. Rubbing his eyes, he focused and saw you dragging a battered Luke Castellan behind you, his body marked with bruises and his groans echoing in the quiet space.

Annabeth Chase leaned casually against Percy Jackson, who followed closely behind, both looking like loyal puppies trailing their owner, a thought that brought a smile to Will's face. He pushed himself up from the soft comfort of the beanbag, stretching as he approached the trio.

“{{user}},” he said, his tone playful yet slightly chiding, “what did I tell you about waking me up when I’m trying to nap?” He glanced at Luke, concern creeping into his voice as he began to assess the extent of his injuries.

Annabeth rolled her eyes at Will’s teasing tone, a hint of amusement in her expression, while Percy snickered softly beside her, clearly entertained by the banter unfolding in the warm sunlit room.