Disclaimer: I sincerely do not feel like violating copyright laws or going to jail so I do not own the rights to Percy Jackson.

Everything is going towards hell is how Will Solace would describe the state of the world now.

The world was in a convoluted war with itself. The borders of France and Germany were a battleground with trenches running through like veins. Artillery and cannon fire was traded back and forth. Shells exploded causing soldiers' ears to bleed and stress from the chance that you might actually get hit by one.

Will was lucky that he stayed far from the front-line trench. He heard terrible stories from the men there and they came to him when they needed patching up. They weren't that much older than himself, at most probably thirty. The war needed doctors so Will applied. The pay wasn't that great nor the rainy conditions that he was working with. But if it meant saving a life, then Will would put up with anything that Mother Nature would throw at him.

It was a grim occupation that Will had. He fixed anything from broken bones to soothing burns with needles and gauze. Sometimes their wounds could be treated, and sometimes they weren't. Soldiers who forgot to put on their gas mask coughed up bits of their lungs with blood was one of the worse cases he could have. The best that he could do was offer them fresh air and a bit of whiskey to mitigate the pain.

The most common injury by far was gangrene. The infection was a grisly affair, yellow pus would come out of the bloody wound and would spread into other areas. If Will had antibiotics, then he can easily cure gangrene. But he was given a meager supply and often, limbs would have to be amputated to save other body parts.

By then, the sorry soldier would be sent back home and away from this hell. But he would never be the same. No one would be the same if they returned home, the key word being if.

He missed his little flat in London. He missed his mother and father and his siblings too. Will wasn't that far. He was close enough so that he could read the daily newspaper, which was just across the Channel. The war wasn't glorious - it was anything but that. Men were getting injured left and right and the weather was just miserable. The only thing that prevented Will from just outright quitting was saving lives.

Death was Will's most hated enemy. It took away loved ones and beloved friends. It was cruel, cold, and unforgiving. He was constantly daydreaming about a world where Death didn't exist. What he imagined was a world where grandparents enjoyed the company of their grandchildren and their great-grandchildren, a world where couples separated by the wall are reunited in life.

Yes, it was a beautiful world but it was impossible to accomplish. Death laid all around him. The air was thick with it's nauseous scent. A new shipment of oak coffins came in, ready to be filled with the bodies of the fallen that he couldn't save.

The ground shook. It appears that the bombardment has graced the trenches yet again with it's presence.

Will wiped the blood and sweat off his forehead. It wasn't his of course, it was his patient. The poor lad got shrapnel embedded in his leg. There was no guarantee that the man's life could be saved. His name was David, from France. He had a child and a pregnant wife who were waiting for him at home, joined the war because he needed the money to support them.

He knew little French, rudimentary at best. But he tried comforting David that everything would be alright that he would make it to his family again - which wasn't easy to do when you're meticulously prying off sharp pieces with tweezers. Will bandaged his leg and told him to get some rest. Maybe he could get proper treatment at a proper hospital but Will doubted it. They were filling up fast.

How many more years would this war drag out? It was the question that milled around in everyone's head. "You'll be back before Christmas" was a popular saying. But which Christmas were they talking about? God only knows when this damned war will end.

It was nighttime but the boys still kept on fighting. Sleeping during this time was impossible, even when it was silent. Silence meant something happened and it usually meant something bad. At least with the explosions, Will knew someone was out there alive.

The bed creaked as he rolled over on his side. The wall next to him had photographs taped on to it. Despite that they were black and white, it sure was more colorful than now. His mom was smiling and held his seven-year old shoulder. Her belly was swollen with his baby sister, Kayla. Kayla had a bright mind. Will was sure that she could handle life on her own. He sent her his pensions every month.

Sighing, Will closed his eyes. Tomorrow was going to be another long day and he needed his sleep, assuming he wouldn't get woken up in the middle of the night. He hoped that he would dream about sunny days and his family. On the contrary, he dreamed about something much more ethereal.

White.

That was what he saw when he entered dreamland. Or at least, that's where Will thought he was. The tile was a marbled black and white with a golden chandelier hanging above, though none of it's candles were lit. There were no windows or doors. An unsettling feeling crept through Will's body, like he was being watched.

"Hello Mr. Solace."

Will jumped at the sound of his name. In front of him, Will swore that it was not there before, was a young man who was dressed all in white. The only thing not white about him was his ebony hair and eyes, which contrasted sharply with the background. A cross adorned his neck. Otherworldly would be the best term to describe him.

"I've been waiting to talk to you for a while now." The man's voice was soft and quiet. Will noticed that it had a slight accent to it. Italian, maybe?

Will hesitated before answering. Was this really a dream? Or was he dead? That was impossible since he didn't do anything today that could be remotely life threatening. Perhaps someone killed him in his sleep then? Oh, out of all of the things that could happen to him why this?

The man tilted his head. "You aren't dead if that's what you're wondering. You are simply dreaming. Once I am done with you, you are free to wake up." He held out his hand. "My name is Nico di Angelo, an angel of death. I was sent by my superiors to deliver a message."

Will was taken aghast. Out of all things - an angel? He really must be dreaming. They don't exist... He took a glance at Nico. Well, that would explain why he was dressed in white and that eerie aura he got from him. Will thought he had seen everything this world has to offer. Clearly, he didn't see all of it. The last name was a given too, of the angel*.

"An angel of death, eh?" Will said," his tone was bitter. "So you're the one whose taking all these lives away? Why don't you sod off and let me do my job?"

"Because I am doing mines," growled Nico. "Death is inevitable Mr. Solace. Everyone dies at some point. It's just that some die sooner than others. Yes, you 'save' lives. But you are merely prolonging the unavoidable. I am an angel of death and my job is to collect the souls and lead them to the afterlife."

"Then why do you do this? Surely it must be a depressing job, tearing apart people's lives and all of that. Do you not feel any sympathy for the souls?"

"I've gotten used to it after a while. I've been alive for a long time , longer than your race. I was alive before the dawn of human civilization. My brothers and I have been doing this for eternity. So no, I do not feel any sympathy for the souls that I collect. Perhaps a little relief for some of them are suffering and the only thing that could stop it is death."

Will snorted. "Anything could be fixed if we try. If they were given a bit more of time, then maybe they could be saved."

Nico narrowed his eyes. "No. They couldn't. Some people can't be saved. Everyone has a set amount of time that they have on this Earth, no more and no less. When your time is up, it is up." He took out a golden pocket watch with a chain and briefly looked at it, frowning before he put it back.

"Well if our clock kept on ticking forever," Will mused, not noticing the action. "Then there would be no more death wouldn't it? The world would be happier as none of our loved ones would die and-"

"Stop right there."

Will blinked in confusion. "Excuse me?"

Nico forcibly grabbed Will's arm and pulled him close. "Now listen here you ignorant human," Nico snarled. His brown eyes were burning with anger. "Do you have any idea what you are asking for? A world without death... it would be disastrous."

"Disastrous? I think it would be like a utopia, where everyone is happy and there is no grief over the dead," Will retorted. He felt his heartbeat speed up but he refused to lose an argument with this boy. If he was going to die, well at least it would be in a spectacular way.

"It would be far from a utopia. A delicate balance is in play Mr. Solace. If that balance was disturbed by say, no one dying, than it would have to correct itself. And believe me, you do not want to see that. Even if there was no balance, the Earth would be overpopulated since humans breed like rats. The next thing you know, humans have exhausted the resources leading to extinction."

Will was had no other words to say, besides being slightly offended that Nico called humans "rats." But that was beside the point. He... never really thought about it that way. All his life, Will was surrounded by death and it ruined his life for the most part. That was why he became a doctor you know. Will had the skills, nimble fingers, a sharp mind, and a unconquerable motivation.

He started off at a local hospital and moved himself up to the ranks. He taught himself how to use a needle to suture a wound, how to treat a fever, how to set a limb, and much more. The expenses were nominal compared to his success. A talented musician and a even more talented doctor, Will had his whole life set out for him.

Nico was right. Everyone dies at some point, but that doesn't mean that Will should give up on his profession. It just made him try harder to in a way, "cheat" death. The best that he could do is delay the inevitable as the angel put it.

"What you're saying is true now that I think of it. But now knowing that there are reapers out there, it only seems natural that I should work even harder to keep you guys off my patients."

Nico smiled. Huh, Will thought he wasn't capable of showing any other emotion besides apathy. First time for everything, he guessed. "I figured that you would say that. Now you understand the consequences of your desire?"

Will sighed. "Death is unfair. But yes, I did."

"Nothing is ever fair in life. You should know that already." Nico gave him a slight nod as if acknowledging something. "Well, I must be off now. I have so much work and so little time. As much as I want to sit here and have a nice long chat with you, father doesn't like His sons dallying off."

"...Okay then," Will said. That was a lot more pleasant than he thought it would be. "I'll see you then, I guess?"

"Of course you'll see me. I'm everywhere, just not visible to your eyes." Nico winked, or was his imagination? The angel turned his back on him but suddenly, turned back around. "Oh, your mother sends her love to you."

The last thing that he heard before waking up again was the sound of wings fluttering.

Going back home to London was a relief for Will. He back from the trenches a few days ago and was on hold, just in time for Christmas. The halls were decked with holly and a grand Christmas tree occupied the center of the room. Under it were two presents, one for him and one for his sister. A bright star adorned the tip and red decorations zigzagged across.

If there was one memory that Will could go back to, it would be this one - where all felt right in the world. There was nothing but smiles and laughter during this day and Will wanted it to last as long as possible.

But Will knew it couldn't, for nothing lasts for an eternity.

How do you even write dialogue or (not so subtle) romance? I tried to keep them in character but this is one of the few times I actually wrote Nico and Will.

This story could have worked out perfectly fine in the modern world but after some time, I think I lost the ability to write in the modern era. Well, it isn't a big loss anyway.

I don't know about you guys, but I'm not feeling so great right now. I was sick for most of this week (and then some) which explains the terrible quality - the holes specifically - of this story not to mention the title (what kind of title is it really...it doesn't make any sense) . Well, it's not the best I've ever written but I did it.

See you guys around, I guess.