Will's lips curved into a cruel smile. "Scared, Nico love?" His voice was a seductive rasp, laced with a darkness that sent shivers down Nico's spine.

He took another step forward, his body brushing against Nico's. The familiar scent of sunshine and strawberries, usually a comfort, now twisted into a weapon.

Nico stumbled back, the Stygian Iron sword wavering in his hand. "Don't do this," he choked out, his voice thick with a mix of fear and something else, something primal and hot.

Will leaned in closer, the moonlight glinting off his sweat-slicked skin, his eyes burning with that alien intensity.

"Do what, Nico?" He whispered, his breath warm against Nico's ear. "Isn't this what you wanted? Me, you?" Will's hand slipped up Nico's arm, sending another jolt of electricity through him. His grip tightened, pulling Nico flush against his body.

The heat of Will's touch, the familiar press of muscle against muscle, was a potent mixture. Nico's mind was at war, his love for Will battling the terror of the stranger inhabiting his body. Will leaned in further, his lips brushing against the shell of Nico's ear.

"We can be together, Nico. Just like you always wanted." His voice dropped to a murmur, laced with a promise both alluring and terrifying. A desperate longing clawed at Nico, a part of him yearning for the comfort of Will's touch, even in this warped form.

In a moment of weakness, a moment fueled by love and desperation, Nico's grip on reality loosened. With a choked gasp, he closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Will's in a desperate, searching kiss. The world dissolved into a heady mix of fear and desire.

"Let's go somewhere quieter," Will murmured against his lips, his voice back to its usual soothing tone, but laced with an undercurrent of something else. Before Nico could even register the shift, Will's hand snaked around his wrist, focusing on the shadows at his feet.

The world dissolved into darkness. When Nico opened his eyes, they were in a dimly lit bedroom, the only light filtering in from a sliver of moon through the window. Will stood before him, his face unreadable.

Now, bathed in the cool moonlight filtering through the window, Nico recognized the room – his own at Camp Half-Blood. Disbelief and a flicker of hope warred within him. Maybe, just maybe, this was a twisted part of Will trying to reach him.

Will, his eyes no longer burning with that alien intensity, stood before him. A shadow of a smile played on his lips. "Finally somewhere we can talk," he said, his voice dripping with a honeyed sweetness that sent shivers down Nico's spine.

The desperation that had clawed at him earlier flared anew. He wanted the Will he knew, the one who held him through nightmares and chased away the shadows with his laughter. Maybe, just maybe, a touch of normalcy, a reminder of their bond, would snap him out of it.

As if sensing his turmoil, Will reached out, his touch sending a familiar warmth through him. "You look tense, love," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. "Why don't you get comfortable?"

Nico hesitated, the sword heavy in his hand. "You... you're sure it's okay?"

Will's smile widened, devoid of its usual warmth. "Of course, Nico. What could be safer than right here, with me?" His voice was a silken snare, pulling Nico in.

With a shaky breath, Nico lowered the Stygian Iron sword, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat rising in his chest. He shrugged out of his aviator's jacket, then his black Camp Half-Blood shirt, tossing them carelessly onto a nearby chair. The vulnerability of being partially undressed, the familiar weight of his Stygian Iron sword replaced by only the reassuring presence of his dagger strapped to his thigh, sent a prickle of unease down his spine.

He ignored it, focusing on Will's hand moving up his arm, tracing a path down to his belt buckle. "Let's just relax for a bit," Will whispered, his voice a husky murmur. "No shadows, no monsters, just us."

Nico closed his eyes, letting himself melt into the touch, the familiar warmth momentarily pushing away the gnawing fear. He unbuckled his pants, letting them fall to the floor, his movements slow and deliberate. He was in his own bed, with Will, or at least a part of Will. Maybe that was enough.

He crawled onto the bed, his back to Will. Will's touch followed him, warm and familiar, yet different. There was a possessiveness to it now, a predatory edge that sent shivers down his spine.

"There you go," Will murmured, his voice a purr in Nico's ear. Nico felt the mattress dip beside him, the weight of Will's body a familiar comfort. He squeezed his eyes shut, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek.

Will trailed kisses down Nico's neck and chest, his lips lingering on the sensitive skin exposed by his tank top. Nico let out a shaky breath, his body trembling with a mixture of fear and something else, something primal and arousing.

The touch was wrong, terrifying, yet a part of him craved it, craved the feeling of normalcy it represented. Will's fingers brushed against the waistband of Nico's boxers, sending a jolt of heat through him.

"Let's get even more comfortable, love," Will murmured, his voice a seductive rasp. Nico's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He wanted to push Will away, to grab his sword and fight. But another part of him, a desperate, yearning part, craved Will's touch, even in this warped form.

With a choked moan, Nico reached down and pulled his boxers off, tossing them aside. He felt exposed, vulnerable, yet a strange sense of relief washed over him. Maybe, just maybe, this was what Will needed. Maybe this would break through the darkness and bring him back.

Will chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. "Good boy," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down Nico's spine. He rolled Nico onto his back, his body heavy and warm against Nico's. Nico closed his eyes, the conflicting emotions warring within him.