Quick tidbit of information: this is a soulmate AU with a twist. If you're really lonely or have no one to talk to, if you write on your arm it shows up on your soulmate's arm, but only if you really need it.
Nico's POV
I stared at the blank white walls of my hospital room, the only sound the constant beeping of the heart monitor that was making sure my weak heart stayed pumping. The room was completely bare, the equipment used to keep me alive sterile ad shiny and the pillows and blankets on my stiff bed were, like everything else in the room, white. The only thing that wasn't white was a fine tipped black sharpie, one that I had stolen from the pocket of a nurse when she had come to check on me. I twirled it in my hands, wishing I had something to use the marker on. I enjoyed writing, poetry, mostly, and I wasn't a bad artist, either. I could always draw on the walls, be the rebel that doctors hated, but then I risked loosing my financial aid and getting kicked out of the hospital which, for me, at least, meant almost sure death. According to a multitude of test results, my heart wasn't nearly strong enough to be on it's own yet.
I had almost given up on the marker, ready to cast it aside and attempt to pilfer something else, when my eyes landed on a perfectly blank canvas that had been sitting in front of me the entire time; me. The doctors couldn't yell at me if I drew on myself, and I would tear my hair out if I had to sit around for one more second. So I uncapped the marker, heart beating aster at the sight of the ink on the tip. I could hear the monitor beeping faster as my excitement grew.
It was only as the marker was hovering over my skin, almost dripping ink, when I realized I had no idea what I was going to make. I though for a moment, considering the many possibilities. I could always draw a picture, but I had no clue what I would draw. Poetry was always another option but usually, in order for it to be good I needed inspiration and there was no way I was going to be stuck with a bad poem on my arm until I could wash it off. Finally, I decided a simple hi would do. I could pretend someone wrote it on me, maybe a friend or a boyfriend. Besides, it was always nice to have a friendly word with you where you went. I etched out the two simple letters, a scratchy h and i. I looked down in satisfaction at my arm, happy at the thought that I had done something besides lay around in my bed.
As I looked at my arm, something started to appear. It started out black, just a small dot of what seemed to be ink. I watched in amazement as what seemed to be an invisible marker started to dig into my arm, making black letters until, at last, there was a word. Hello.
Will's POV
I was disgusting, and I knew it. I was covered in dirt from our last raid, stealing much needed ammo from the enemies. I hadn't been able to take a shower in days, so I was sure I smelled like a pig sty. On top of all of this I was exhausted. There were deep bags underneath my eyes and I hadn't had a goodnight's sleep in days, our brief period of rest constantly being interrupted by gunshots raining down on the measly canvas of our tents. There was nothing to do here, either. We weren't allowed to use technology and we weren't allowed books, their bulkiness weighing us down. The only thing I had was a marker, a black fine tipped sharpie. We didn't have a lot of paper, and I had used the last of mine this morning.
I looked around my tent, looking for a blank surface, anything that I would be allowed to draw on. I didn't have much, only what I could carry in my pack. I had a few clothes, but most of the time I was in my army uniform. Besides my clothes I had a toothbrush, a jacket and not much else, especially something that I could draw on. I raised my sleeve, scratching at an itchy spot on my lower arm. When I looked down, there was a word there.
Hi, it said. It wasn't even close to my handwriting, and I was sure that I had never written it. Cautiously, I uncapped my marker, which seemed to be a twin of the one used to write hi. I wrote hello, watching the marker sink into my skin. I waited one beat, then two. I felt stupid, waiting for some magical word to appear on my arm. I was about to cover up my arm again when I saw a black dot appear on my arm. Letters started to form until, at last, words formed. There was a sentence now, and it made my heart flutter with excitement. I'm Nico. What's your name? I thought for sure that I was hallucinating. Maybe I had been bitten by a strange bug or had been in the woods for to long but whatever the reason, I was grateful for it. Even five year-olds had fun with their imaginary friends.
I'm Will. I wrote. I'm in the Army. I've been out here for months, and I haven't been able to talk to anyone interesting. So, Nico, are you interesting? I waited for a response, sitting up straighter when I saw a response starting to form.
I'd say I'm pretty interesting. We're the same, in some ways. I've been in the hospital for a while. My heart's too weak to support itself. So, do you want to play hangman?
I lost track of time, talking to Nico. Sometimes we would talk for hours, cracking jokes, telling each other our deepest secrets. I even drew him pictures, pictures of the forest and he returned them, drawing monsters he thought of in his head. Eventually I had to erase some of them, but I kept a few of my favorite phrases. Things like this is the best thing that ever happened to me and I love you. In the darkest times of my fighting he was there for me, ready to make me laugh and smile. And when he needed me, like when his heart nearly stopped, I made him feel better. We would play games and have fun and when the news came, I couldn't wait to tell him.
I'm coming home, I wrote out on my palm. In a few weeks they're flying me to New York. I can come visit you, every day. I waited for his response, and watched as it started to appear, this time on my other palm.
You won't have to, it read. I'm being released in just a few weeks. My heart's strong enough. Do you know when you're coming home?
April 5th, I wrote. You?
April 5th! I can come meet you at the airport. We can finally be a couple. We can share an apartment and go on long walks. I love long walks.
Me, too. I can't wait to see you in person.
"Me, neither. Just, try not to die, ok?
Nico's POV
As I walked out of the doors to the hospital, a breeze blew cool air onto my face, letting me know that I was really outside and not still trapped in the stuffy prison that was my hospital room. I checked my watch, reading that it was almost noon. It thrilled me that I needed a watch now.
I hailed a cab, sliding into the back seat. The seats were soft, much unlike the hard bed that I was forced to live in for the past few months.
"Where do you want to go?" the cabbie asked, glancing at me in the rear view mirror.
"Airport, please," I instructed, inhaling deeply. The cab smelled like a mixture of nicotine and vomit. The hospital had only smelled like hand sanitizer. I loved bad smelling cabs.
I was sitting on a bench, nervously awaiting Will. There were so many things that could go wrong. He could have died and not told me, and there was always the possibility that the whole thing had been a massive hallucination, a product of my loneliness or the crazy meds they were feeding me.
After a nervous hour of waiting I saw a blonde head bobbing through the thick crowd of people. I stood up, watching as the person I assumed to me Will came closer and closer. As he came into clearer view, I could tell that it was, in fact, Will. He was a good artist and he had drawn a few self portraits of himself, and a good description. I had imagined him in my head tons of times, but he was even more beautiful than I had imagined. His golden blonde hair was wavy on top of his head, and his blue eyes sparkled. They light up as he recognized me and started walking faster. In a matter of seconds we were standing in front of one another, and he stared at me as if he had never seen another boy.
"You're even more beautiful than I though," he murmured, rubbing his thumb across my cheek. I blushed, and I was sure he could feel the heat under his thumb.
"You, too," I said, not able to take my eyes off of him.
"So, what do you want to do?" Will asked. "We have the whole world at our fingertips."
"Well, I have a few things in mind," I grinned. Holding hands, we exited the airport, gazing around in awe at the world in front of us. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the writing on my hand disappear but now, that didn't matter. I had Will, and that was all I needed.
Hi, guys! I hope you liked that one!
Nina
