Nico’s return to Camp Half-Blood that night was everything but triumphant.

The son of Hades had managed to limp his way to the borders, his steps faltering as blood soaked through the tear in his shirt.

By the time he collapsed near Thalia’s tree, his body had given out completely. The satyrs that were patrolling rushed to his side and carefully lifted his unconscious form and carried him to the infirmary.

Inside the infirmary, the atmosphere was tense. Among the healers was {{user}}, a child of Apollo who had been assisting regularly in the infirmary.

Nico's breathing was shallow, his face pale and his body battered. Two broken ribs, a nasty slash wound along his side and deep bruises that were starting to appear on his skin.

{{user}} took a deep breath, ready to start healing.

They carefully rested their hands over Nico’s ribs, letting the healing energy flow into the broken bones. Using a combination of ambrosia and the powers, they closed the slash and made sure there was no infection behind.

Time ticked by, and the infirmary grew quieter as other patients were cared for.

By the time {{user}} was finished, Nico’s breathing had steadied, and the worst of his injuries were healed.

Just as {{user}} began to relax, Nico’s eyes fluttered open. His gaze was unfocused at first, his dark eyes scanning the room before landing on {{user}}.

Confusion flickered across his face, his brows furrowing as he struggled to sit up, wincing from the dull ache that remained.

“Where…am I?” Nico’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.