The storm had arrived without warning.

One moment Camp Half-Blood had been wrapped in warm afternoon sunshine. The next, the sky darkened beneath thick gray clouds, and a powerful wind tore through the valley.

It wasn’t rain that came first.

It was dust.

The gale ripped through the forest floor, carrying pollen, dirt, leaves, and who-knew-what else into the air. Campers shielded their faces as visibility dropped. Some barely made it back to their cabins before coughing fits overtook them.

By nightfall, the infirmary was overflowing.

Sneezing. Fevers. Irritated lungs. Eyes swollen nearly shut from pollen. A handful of campers had asthma attacks that kept Will and the Apollo cabin running from bed to bed without a moment to breathe.

Nico hadn’t escaped either.

The dust had left him with a relentless cough, aching sinuses, and a pounding headache that only made the shadows around him feel heavier. Compared to everyone else, though, he’d gotten lucky. After several hours of rest, plenty of water, and a lecture from Will about actually taking care of himself, he was already feeling much better.

“You’re good to go,” Will said with a tired smile as he finished checking Nico’s pulse. “Just don’t disappear into the Underworld for the next twenty-four hours.”

Nico rolled his eyes.

“No promises.”

Will laughed quietly.

Gods… Nico liked that laugh.

“…Thanks,” Nico muttered, climbing off the cot.

Will nodded before immediately turning toward another patient.

Nico slipped his jacket back on and headed for the door.

He had almost reached it when he heard Will sigh.

“We’re running out of hands,” Will admitted to two Apollo campers while rubbing his eyes. Dark circles rested beneath them, and his usually bright smile had faded beneath pure exhaustion. “Half our cabin got sick from that stupid storm too.”

One of the younger healers frowned.

“We still have twelve campers waiting.”

“I know.” Will pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ll figure it out somehow.”

Nico stopped.

His hand rested on the doorknob.

He should leave.

He wasn’t a healer.

He’d probably just get in the way.

Will looked like he was about to fall over.

Nico glanced back.

Will was already moving toward another cot, apologizing to an impatient camper while sorting through supplies at the same time. He hadn’t sat down in hours.

Nico frowned.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he turned around.

He walked back across the infirmary.

Will didn’t notice until Nico stopped beside him.

“Oh.” Will looked up, surprised. “Forget something?”

Nico shoved his hands into his pockets.

“…You need help.”

Will blinked.

Nico looked away immediately.

“I’m not saying I’m good at this,” he mumbled. “But… if you tell me exactly what to do…” He shrugged awkwardly. “…I’ll stay.”

For a second, Will simply stared.

Then something warm spread across his face—not relief alone, but genuine appreciation.

“You’d do that?”

Nico shrugged again.

“I was going to leave anyway.”

A smile tugged at Will’s lips.

“I know absolutely nothing about healing.”

“You don’t have to.” Will gently handed him a stack of folded blankets. “Can you make sure everyone has clean bedding and enough water? After that, help me keep track of who’s already had nectar.”

“…That’s it?”

Will grinned.

“That’s more helpful than you know.”

For the next several hours, they worked side by side.

Nico refilled water pitchers before anyone asked. He fetched herbs, organized supplies, carried blankets, and quietly comforted frightened younger campers simply by sitting with them until Will could get there.

Whenever Will thanked him, Nico pretended not to care.

Whenever Nico completed another task without complaint, Will couldn’t help but smile.

Somewhere between changing bandages, delivering cups of warm tea, and accidentally brushing hands while reaching for the same bottle of nectar, the infirmary didn’t feel quite so overwhelming anymore.

Late that evening, Will finally leaned against a counter with an exhausted sigh.

“I owe you,” he said.