Percy Jackson Ship Weeks! Once again I'm posting early because I'll be out of town. Quick refresher of the schedule:

July 14-20- Thalia and Luke (story: Keeping it PG)

July 21-27- Beckendorf and Silena (I honnestly do try to call him Charles, I really do... anyways, the story for this is The Girl in the Attic)

July 28- August 3- Grover and Juniper (story: The Track of Time)

August 4-10- Chris and Clarisse (story: this)

August 11-17 Tyson and Ella

August 18-24- Frank and Hazel

August 25-31- Leo and Hazel

September 1-7- Leo and Reyna

September 8-14- Jason and Reyna

September 15-21- Jason and Piper

September 22-28- Free Ship!

September 28- October 7- Percy and Annabeth

This story was harder to come up with, but I like my premise and I hope that you enjoy it too!

Disclaimer: I don't own the world of Percy Jackson or its characters.


Scraps


I don't know what I'm supposed to say.


Random stuff I guess?


That took a long time to come up with.


Love you.


That one was easy.


I found a cooler full of goodies on the front door. A full lasagna, homemade and everything. Garlic bread to go with and cake as well. I love having Italian neighbours.


I picked up milk. Finally. You'd have killed me for taking that long. I was a bit busy, sorry. They didn't have any skimmed left, so I had to pick up 2%. I had a glass and it's disgusting. I put it in a bowl outside and figured that the stray cats would get to it. I don't know why I ever liked it before meeting you.


Did you like the movie? It was pretty funny. We'll watch it again later. That way you'll get to see the special effects. They were really good.


Taco Bell's come up with this Meat Eater's Taco. I can't even describe to you how loaded it is, you wouldn't believe me.


First day at work. I get up every morning before you do and drive two hours out of town every day, but for some reason today… today I felt so far from you. It was so scary. I nearly couldn't do it.


Good news. I finished the first lasagna. Three more to go. I think I'll just have peanut butter and jelly from now on. I'm about to overdose on Italian food.


Frank says hi. He couldn't stay long; his flight was just a connection. He has to go see Hazel, you know? Poor guy, I don't know how he does to work away from her for half a year at a time. I mean, it's only been a month here… and I can't take it.


Chiron came in. I don't know if you knew. Hell, I don't know if you know that I'm here. But he said that everything was being done. All we had to do is wait.


I know that you're on a constant mission to improve my character, but come on. I'm impatient. Don't make me wait much longer. Please, if there's anything you can do to speed things up… please and thank you, hugs and kisses.


It's been raining.


There was a sale on Twinkies at the store. I got some. I didn't tap into the life savings, don't worry, I did the mature thing. I even kept you some. I figured they wouldn't have time to go bad, right? Right.


I nearly collapsed at work today. Don't worry, I wasn't with a group or anything. Not even in the water. But Ellie's waiting just outside the door. She's not letting me sleep over here tonight, she says I need a good night's sleep. I promise I'll come back as soon as she lets me.


Your mom's new book came out. I only read the introduction but I told her that it was really good. The Zulu are cooler than I thought, why didn't you ever tell me about them?


You know Mona down the street? She's come to vacuum yesterday. Let herself in with the emergency key, picked up the crap I've been too busy to clean up and managed to tame our monster of a vacuum cleaner. She feels super sorry, I guess.


In a surprising turn of events the weather sucks balls.


Are you okay? Because I am. Well, I miss you. I feel like I'm not in this world either. But seriously, I'm okay. Don't worry about me, worry about you. Not that there aren't enough people on that already.


So there was that BBQ. You didn't miss much, but you were missed a lot. My family's still nuts. Half of the people were super drunk, but not drunk enough for the sober or soberish to become babysitters. I left way before that. I had a beer without passing out this time. You'd be so proud of me. Maybe one day I'll hold my liquor at least half decently.


You're deteriorating. What's going on? That's not like the fighter I know and love.


I have a long day tomorrow, a special needs camp is coming for canoe lessons, so I need to go home and sleep. Goodnight, love you. See you soon.


I took a day off. I can nearly hear you tell me that I shouldn't have- but I had to. Work sucks and I really just want to be near you. You too? I hope so.


I wouldn't mind missing this crap weather either. Still, that's not a reason for all of this. Come back.


Even the professionals are getting worried. Where are you? What's going on?


They're taking about taking you off, babe.


Come on.


This is too scary.


I'm not used to fighting without you covering me. Give me some tips, here. How do I tell them no?


Cover me. Help me. Do something. Anything.


I'll see you after the MRI. Love you.


I'm not losing hope, okay? If you can hear what they're saying, discard it. I still believe in you.


Are you still there to be believed in?


Please.


Anything. Anything at all. Just shut them up. Make them stop talking about this.


One more week darling. One more week and everything's on the fence again. Gods I'm scared.


"Can you lift up two fingers?"

It was a stupid question. Duh. Of course she could do that.

"Please?"

She did.

Next thing she knew people were gasping and someone was calling her name.

She gagged. Something was pulled out of her mouth, a tube or something.

"Clarisse, that was very good."

I held up two fingers, asshole. What's the big fuss about? She grumbled to herself.

"Do you think you could open your eyes too?"

Maybe they'll give me a cake for doing that one, she said. Then it hit her. Why weren't her eyes open? What was going on?

She managed to lift her eyelids and she looked around. She was surrounded by a bunch of white coats and blue scrubs and one guy wearing a t-shirt like a normal person.

"Clarisse," he said breathlessly. "Oh my gods…"

He took a step but a nurse put an arm in front of him.

"Why you stopping him?" she demanded. Her voice didn't sound sharp like she'd wanted it too, it sounded broken. Her head suddenly felt fuzzy.

Okay- got it. Talking was a bad idea. Calm down and don't you dare make me pass out, brain.

It was too much.

The nurse looked at the doctor who shook his head. She let him step forwards and he kissed her forehead, his arms around her.

"Chris, careful. Remember the tubes," one of the female doctors said.

He ignored them and kissed her face some more.

"You're up, you're up, you're up," he repeated between kisses. She wanted to kiss him too but her brain felt too tired, as if she was mentally stuck in a traffic jam.

"I feel hung-over," Clarisse mumbled.

The doctor laughed. "You're not hung-over, Clarisse. You've been in a coma for five months."

"Goddamn." She said. Chris nodded. Now: Clarisse's mind was still fuzzy and she wasn't making much sense. But she was pretty sure that Chris hadn't had those pockets or lines around his eyes before she'd been comatose. She was certain of it. He was even tanner than he was now too.

"You were transferred to this hospital quickly after the severity of your injuries was established," the doctor said. "Do you remember the accident?"

"No," Clarisse muttered. She certainly talked as if she was drunk.

"You're with the MPDC, yes?"

Metropolitan Police for the District of Columbia.

"Yes," Clarisse said.

"You pushed someone out of the way of a car accident," the doctor said. "A little girl, in the midst of a shooting. You took the impact."

Clarisse's eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head, but she concentrated.

"It was in the papers," Chris said softly, brushing his thumb against her hand. She managed to squeeze her hand.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Chris asked. "Clarisse, don't be sorry."

"You did an extremely courageous thing. You saved a little girl's life, and her family a lot of pain," the doctor said.

"There are piles of drawings that have been sent to you," one kind-voiced nurse said. "From her and from many other children. You can look at them later if you like, they're quite sweet."

She didn't care about what they said. It was their job to try and keep her alive. They saw people get injured, heal, and push daisies on a regular basis. She was a face in a swarm, it wasn't anybody's fault. What she cared about was the person who'd stuck around on the basis of free will and who had clearly lost sleep. She starred at Chris until he answered.

"You're okay now, that's what matters." he said softly, squeezing her hand.

He kissed her. That certainly sent her senses all over the place.

"Maybe you should have kissed me earlier." She had to stop for a moment and get her bearings before going on. "Maybe I'm Sleeping Beauty," she said.

"I can't believe I didn't think of that," Chris said.

"I am tired," Clarisse said.

"You can get some sleep if you like," the doctor said. "We just want to run a basic check-up to make sure you're alright. Would you like Chris to stay?"

"He's not going anywhere," Clarisse said.

Chris smiled.


She'd woken up and would have called a nurse, but she heard Chris in the hallway. He was crying.

"Yeah… yeah… no not yet. Maybe eventually… yes I called her family… I don't know if she can yet… maybe, Mom. Maybe."

He was crying.

She fell asleep again.


"Morning," Chris said when Clarisse finally woke up.

"Alright," she said.

Chris looked at her with an odd look on his face, as if she was a miracle. She guessed that it made sense. She hadn't been supposed to wake up at all after the accident. But this...

"What?" Clarisse asked. It sounded too rough. Her jaw felt stiff. She was struggling to find her words.

"Part of me thought that you'd never wake up," Chris said ducking his eyes as he spoke.

"Before?"

"No, not before. I knew that you'd never stop fighting until you scored at least some kind of victory. I meant just now. I thought that you'd woken up yesterday to say goodbye and then…"

"Chris…" she said.

He wiped his eyes with his wrist. "I was scared, babe. You really, really scared me."

"Didn't mean to."

"I know. It's not your fault."

"Not yours either."

"We'd fought the morning right before the accident. Do you remember? I thought that the last you'd seen of me was my leaving the door too pissed to say goodbye. I don't even remember what we were fighting about."

"I hadn't filled up the tank," Clarisse said breathlessly.

Chris shook his head. "That was so stupid. You could have died and I wouldn't have gotten to say goodbye to you because you were in a coma, and I wouldn't even have said goodbye to you the last time I saw you."

She could register more details now. There was something up her nose, going around her head. Probably a breathing tube, pumping oxygen in her. The chair next to the bed had a wrinkled blanket and a pillow on it- as if someone had spent the night. She wasn't stupid. She knew that Chris had been there. She felt hair on her shoulders, it was probably braided.

There was a newspaper on the bedside table- out dated with rings on it, as if cups had been put down on it. TWO COPS KILLED, THREE INJURED, ONE IN COMA AFTER SHOOTING. Another newspaper overlapped it; newer. HEROIC POLICE OFFICER WAKES UP AFTER FIVE MONTH'S COMA.

"Not hallucinating, right?" Clarisse asked.

"When?" Chris asked.

Having to talk frustrated her, it felt like uselessly spent energy, but she had to get it out of her system.

"While I was out?"

"Were you dreaming?"

"I heard scraps of words. Pieces of sentences. Bits of information. Every now and then. Didn't make sense. You still sick of lasagna?"

Chris laughed a bit. "You weren't hallucinating."

"You were there?"

"As much as I could be."

"You work two hours away from here," she said.

"I do," Chris said. He was sporting his summer farmer's tan- that's what you got when you worked at a national park. That and some very, very nice arms.

"And you still came - every day."

"I tried."

She tried to smile but it hurt.

"Do you need more morphine?" Chris worried.

"I'll live," she said. "How could I. How could I have not known that you loved me? Hearing that. Every day? It's what you do. That matters. Not what. You don't."

Chris swallowed.

"For the record I forgive you about the gas. I didn't run out on my way to work anyways," he said to drag the conversation back to something he was comfortable with, comedy.

This time Clarisse smiled without even registering the pain.