A Walk Along Valencia Boulevard

'You're a great camper. You're the best Pegasus rider we have. And you get along with people. Believe me, anyone who can make friends with Clarisse has a talent.'

His eyes are kind and voice sincere. You can tell by the way he reaches out to gently clasp the girl's wrist that he truly does care… And he honestly thinks this girl is an asset.

She finds it hard to believe him. She was never any good for any sort of real help. But helping was hard when your arms are too skinny to hold a sword, and your mind too fluttery for battle tactics.

But she's good at making friends. Silena smiles wryly. He's saying she's nice. Out of all the compliments in the world he could go for, Percy chooses to say that she's good at making friends. At least she's not obtuse. Another wry smile.

She thinks how her charismatic ('bubbly,' as Clarisse put it) personality could be put down to minor charm-speaking abilities. How else had she kept her title from Drew all these years? That girl could have any other camper crawling on the floor, fetching diet coke and cookies, but not Silena.

Clarisse rebukes any thought of the idea—says that Silena's a good person, through and through (if only she knew)—and that she'd pound the face in of anyone who says differently. Classic crude Clarisse. She may not be classy but boy, that girl is one hell of a fighter…

A sudden realisation dawns on Silena's face. Her eyes brighten and she lifts her head up, shaking long, tangled hair out of her face. 'That's it! We need the Ares cabin. I can talk to Clarisse. I know I can convince her to help us.' She gushes quickly, a plan forms in her head and she gets more excited with every word.

Percy looks startled; he doesn't want to give her any ideas, this girl in enough danger of an emotional breakdown as it is, she's like cracking glass threatening to shatter, and he doesn't want her throwing herself into the line of fire. He's managed to keep her off the front lines so far. But Silena's got a rebellious streak in her—she's already made her decision, and she'll stick to it with the stubbornness of that to match his own, regardless of what he (or anyone else, for that matter) has to say about it.

'Whoa,' he steps backwards and the moment of tenderness between the two is now gone. 'Silena. Even if you could get off the island, Clarisse is pretty stubborn. Once she gets angry—'

'Please,' begs Silena, urged on by Percy's reluctance. Silena's nothing if not unswayable. Besides, he was the one who said she's a great Pegasus rider. 'I can take a Pegasus. I know I can make it back to camp. Let me try.'

Percy knows he's been defeated. He glances down at Annabeth (secretly hoping she'll put a stop to it) who's watching the whole affair with a thoughtful expression. Annabeth gives a short, curt nod as not to disturb her bandaged arm. She, unlike Percy, believes in Silena's powers of persuasion. Or possibly she's hoping that Clarisse'll see the girl's deadened eyes and realise how deeply they need the help.

Percy gives a sigh of resignation, 'Alright, I can't thing of anyone better to try.'

Silena lunges forward and wraps her arms around his neck. Percy gives a slight lurch of surprise so Silena's nose ends up awkwardly crammed into the cranny formed between the shoulder and collarbone. Percy has that clangy, salty smell, somewhat between dried blood and hot metal—a smell she has long associated with the forges. And Charlie.

A painfully nostalgic feeling wells up inside of her, sitting uncomfortably at the bottom of her stomach with that oddly happy feeling that comes bundled up with those memories.

She pushes back, realising that she's still wrapped around Percy. Her faces blushes a crimson red. It's a hideous colour the clashes horribly with her orange camp half-blood t-shirt. Though Percy smiles, her face red is better than the broken expression he's grown accustomed to.

Silena glances awkwardly down at Annabeth who, to her relief, doesn't seem too bothered by the exchange. Silena did just practically sexually assault her boyfriend after all. 'Um—sorry. Thank you Percy! I won't let you down.' She leaves the cloth on the small table and darts past Percy; he doesn't seem to notice, he's too engrossed in taking over the act of dabbing Annabeth's forehead.

The wind in biting, nipping at her face; tears blur her vision as rain smacks against her face as sharp as knives.

It's been…what? Four, five hours? Silena enjoys flying, but—even by her standards—that's a long time. Her rear is numb from Ginkgo, the Pegasus' rhythmic movements and she's sure the black colouring of the saddle has rubbed of on her new, white sweat-pants. Her entire body is covered in a thin film of moisture from where she's been flying through clouds and her hair has that perfect picture of sex hair, just minus the sex. (So, in other words, completely dishevelled.)

Silena is, to say the least, well out of her three-by-three, nine inch square comfort zone. She's dirty, not near a mirror and completely alone (save maybe the horse—and he's not exactly learned in the way of the English language) with her thoughts; something Silena's not particularly adept at.

The five stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Clarisse can vouch that the first has passed; and many broken possessions can account for the second. Silena knows what comes next; bargaining. Soon she'll be begging, pleading, wishing for Charlie. She wrinkles her nose at the thought. Silena never liked wishing for things.

'If wishes were fishes,' her father says. What a silly saying…we'd all what? Just have a lot of fishes? The phrase should come with a warning tag: Danger! This is saying is in no way informative nor helpful.

Silena thinks it'd be much more useful to skip that stage entirely. Depression? Bring it on. Still better than wishing. Wishes are goals for the unmotivated. Silena has a plan—wallow in self pity for the next hour or so.

A much better use of her time.

She never did, and doesn't consider herself a traitor. Spy, yes. Traitor, no. She's seen traitors at camp. Unclaimed mostly, or children of minor gods…they all left though. Not one hung around. One camper tried to convince Lou-Ellen to stay. It didn't make a single difference. Traitors abandon and disparage old friends, seeking solace in fellow turn-coats. If anything, Luke is even more repulsive since he turned up at Silena's house with that bracelet.

Silena thinks it an 'I'm sorry' present at first. (After all, they had never truly broken up—granted, they had never truly gone out. But neither had renounced their snog-buddyship. And in Silena's eyes, that was still dating.) She thinks he has come back for her. She doesn't know she was second choice, second best to Annabeth. Again.

Luke explains what the charm is and Silena immediately shoves it back into his hands, making to close the door. He stops her with that dazzling, dishy, crooked smile that all ridiculously handsome boys have. The marring scar on his left side is barely registered.

'We are going to win.' It's not a question or a guess. It's a statement.

Silena scoffs, but Luke has certainly unnerved her.

'Our numbers outweigh yours by far,' he carries on, 'You will lose, it's going to happen. But you don't have to go along with this suicide mission of yours. We don't want to hurt anyone.'

Silena scowls. 'And Lee? I suppose he dropped that giant's club on himself. And what about Castor? His own twin brother was killed—Pollux was stabbed in the back. No-one gave him the chance to defend himself. Not hurting anyone, my arse.'

Luke's stunned for a moment. When he set out for Silena's house, he expected to meet the small, meek fourteen year-old that he use to make-out with behind the stables, not this feisty almost-adult.

'Exactly. Their deaths were unnecessary.' He reaches out to grab her hand and Silena recoils. Not as his touch, but at two of her great friends' deaths being referred to casually as 'unnecessary'. 'If you give us information you can prevent so many more—your friends needn't die for a dying cause. You can help.'

With the last word—that's like a slap in the face for Silena—Luke presses the dainty charm bracelet into the palm of her hand and strides down the little, cobbled path, opening the little garden gate and disappearing out of sight.

Silena stands, frozen in the doorway, with tears of anger (or frustration, or sadness, or just that sick sense of foreboding settled in her stomach—she's not entirely sure which) budding in her eyes.

A tingles runs down Silena's back as she passes through the camp boundaries. The world suddenly becomes more vivid as if someone turned up the brightness setting. She makes her twirling descent to land next to Thalia's tree, dismounting as soon as she's stationary.

Silena pauses to drink in the scene. She knots her hand into Ginkgo's mane, but the sense of homeliness and relaxation that normally accompanies the movement is gone. Everything is wrong. No wind rolls over the hill, even though she could feel it clearly enough when she was flying. It's as if the boundaries themselves can sense there are no sailors out on the lake today. The air tastes disgustingly clean—oddly enough, it's the absence of that putrid, clogging smell of monster ash that makes her want to hurl. She tries to ignore it and inhales deeply. The calming scent of pine only adds to her feeling of alienation.

'Silena?' The voice breaks through her sheen of faux serenity and she swivels round to see Clarisse—in all her glory—standing with one arm draped around Chris in a very un-Clarisse way and her hair bundled up in the signature bandana.

With a roar of unashamed joy Clarisse bolts forward, sweeping the smaller demigod into a hug that yanks her off her feet. She sets Silena down as to drink in the image of her friend—alive. 'Why are you back already? Is it over? We won!'

Silena stares blankly, dumbstruck by Clarisse's reaction. 'Won?'

'Oh gods—' Clarisse's voice lowers to a terrified whisper, 'we lost.'

'No, no, no. The fighting; it's still going on, well, not presently. It had just stopped when I left, but they'll be back at nightfall.'

'So what are you doing here?'

Pleased to report that she, personally, has been given an important task, Silena stands up straighter and thrusts her chin out. 'Percy sent me to get you to help.'

Clarisse narrows her ayes, 'No,' she growls.

Chris chooses this moment to interject. 'Clarisse, look, I really think—'

'Chris!' Clarisse shoots him a look, universally understood to mean 'scrape out'. 'Why don't you take Ginkgo to the stables?' She gestures over to the Pegasus, who is still standing by the tree, pawing the ground nervously.

Chris mumbles an incomprehensible reply and takes the reins, leading the horse down the hill.

As soon as he's out of earshot Clarisse repeats even more firmly, 'No.' She storms off.

'Clarisse, wait!' Silena Yells, stumbling down the hill after her.

'No! No, nonono, no! My cabin has been insulted too many times; always taken for granted. This is the last time. People don't realise your worth until you're gone. Well, we're not there and now everyone has decided that they need us.' Clarisse's voice raises to a shriek. Across the silent camp it carries far enough that even the other Ares campers down at the arena can hear her shouting. 'Too late! I—'

'Clarisse! I swear to Aphrodite that if you are letting your friends die because of a stupid chariot I will—' She's at a loss for words; for the first time in her life Silena is properly livid about something that isn't directly related to The Hunters or flaking nail polish.

'This is not about a chariot! Sure, Yew was a prat about that, but—'

'Michael is dead.' She spits with enough venom to rival a Drakon.

Clarisse's eyes widen and she immediately regrets speaking ill of Michael. And not in an I'm-annoyed-that-came-back-and-bit-me-in-the-arse-kind-of-way. She really wishes she could take it back.

Silena'll take it to her grave (not that that's very far away) so no-one else will ever know. But Clarisse will know, she'll always remember that she described Michael Yew, war-hero as a prat. And it'll haunt her 'till her dying day. (And then in Elysiun Michael will bug her about it. Apparently he found it hilarious.)

Clarisse backs down and replies in a normal speaking voice. 'This isn't about Michael, or the chariot. It's about honour and earned respect, and it's about time I got some.'

Silena doesn't follow Clarisse when she storms off this time. She stays and remembers the girls who came to her with boy trouble and wonders where she's hiding under all that anger.

Everybody knows that when you have some sort of problem, stressful or not, you shouldn't bother with any of that prescription drug rubbish. (Besides it's only really given to you because your psychiatrist gets a free pen every time she sells a pot.) Ambrosia won't do either. The food of the gods is obviously for sprained ankles and never for help whilst getting through your SATs.

No, if you are ever going to get any help from material things it was going to come from expensive, French bubble-bath and two men by the name of Ben and Jerry.

So, when Silena is sat on her bed, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, still lingering with the scent of eau-de-something-I-can't-pronounce and quite happily devouring a bit pot of Caramel Chew Chew she was sure that her epiphany wasn't too far off.

A knock at the door startles her slightly. 'Erm, hello? Silena, can I come in?' A shy voice—an unusual trait for an Ares camper, Silena notes—sounds from the other side of the door.

Silena quickly jumps up. Wrapping the towel around herself tighter, she chucks the empty ice cream tub under the bed, hiding it from view. Although she doubts Chiron would punish her given the current climate, the hidden mini fridge in their bathroom is certainly something she doesn't want to advertise.

'Come in.'

The door opens and Caroline, an Ares camper—the smallest and youngest at only twelve—hovers awkwardly in the doorway. She's tall but very stocky and her auburn-red hair (a colour that most Aphrodite girls would kill for) is tied back into a scruffy braid.

'Erm, hi. Clarisse asked me to come tell you that dinner's in ten minutes.'

'Ok, thanks. I'll be there as soon as I'm dressed.'

Caroline scampers off and Silena quickly pulls on some leggings and a sweatshirt before heading to the mess hall.

The whole way through the dinner Clarisse scowls. And Silena (ignoring the fear of premature wrinkles) scowls back at her. The rest of the Ares cabin looks nervously between the two. And Caroline hiccups—the whole freaking time.

Silena can't remember the last time any dinner was more awkward. The only one that came even vaguely close was the time she had to take Charlie home to introduce him to her dad. But even that couldn't really compare.

After dinner the Ares cabin disband quickly, all muttering about how they have to run various errands. Silena suspects they just want to get away from Clarisse. For the kids of a war god they sure were a bunch of cowards.

Silena approaches Clarisse who's arguing animatedly with Chris.

'Clarisse?'

Clarisse locks her jaw and swings round to glare at Silena, 'What?'

'Look, won't you just reconsider? We're dying back there. Austin's missing, probably dead. Annabeth's been stabbed.'

Clarisse growled, 'How is it my fault if Miss Princess can't get out of the way of a knife?'

Chris takes that as his cue to interject, 'Seriously, Clary. This whole pride thing is just getting stupid, maybe—'

'Stupid!? You think it's stupid that I just want some respect? I saved your life! I've saved Jackson's more time that I care to count. I've probably saved every single person's gods-damned life here. And still nobody even likes me!' Clarisse stalked off but not before yelling back, 'I'm going on patrol for the night!'

'I'll try to talk to her,' says Chris, 'But if you can't convince her I don't think there's much hope. Maybe you should just give up on trying to sway Clarisse and head back to Manhattan. Sorry you came all this way.' Chris shrugs in apology before running after Clarisse.

Silena is lying on the floor of the stands in the arena when she finally has her long awaited epiphany.

She's watching the thirty or so Ares Campers through the gaps in the rafters. They're sparring with the practise dummies and each other. They're too far away to hear and because she's at the very top and they can't see her so Silena is able to watch them fight in peace.

The Ares cabin is the second biggest at camp, next to Hermes. And they're easily some of the best fighters. (There's a reason every time the Athena and Ares cabins team up for capture the flag they win within the first five minutes.) Out of battle the Ares kids are mostly bulky and clumsy but when they fight hand-to-hand it looks almost choreographed.

Silena knows how much of a difference having them at Manhattan could make; but they'll only follow Clarisse. If only she had a Hecate child with her—they could do a switching spell and Silena could lead them out, pretending to be Clarisse.

She gasps and shots upwards, slamming her head on the top of one of the bench. She cusses loudly then claps her hand over her mouth, fearing that the campers below heard her. She checks and they don't appear to have noticed her, and if they did they aren't letting on. Silena relaxes slightly and runs out of top exit, still rubbing her head with her hand.

It's heavy. And it's also way too big for her. But after thirty minutes, straight of teasing and tugging at the straps Silena's finally manages to get the breast plate to vaguely fir her. It's nearly impossible for her to move but she shuffles back over to the chest at the foot of Clarisse's bed that holds all her clothes, weapons and armour.

She rummages for the last piece of her plan—the boar helmet. And it's not there. Why isn't it there? Everything else is in that chest. She desperately digs through the stacks of cargo pants and CBH shirts. But it's definitely not there.

Why does it have to be the helmet? Why not the shin guards or breastplate…those can easily be stolen from another camper, red armour isn't too uncommon in the Ares cabin. But Clarisse's boar helmet is unique. The whole plan really relies on finding the helmet. With it, she's Clarisse La Rue and without it she's just a sad Aphrodite girl wearing oversized armour.

Silena starts to ransack the rest of the room looking for the helmet. She empties the two nearest wardrobes and pulls out all the rubbish that is under Clarisse's bed (it's gross…there's a month's worth of dirty clothes and a dead rat under there. Silena reminds herself to give the Ares cabin a minus-five on their next cabin inspection).

Disgusted, Silena picks her way through the pile of stuff when suddenly she hears a squeaky hiccup from the doorway. Caroline, the same Ares camper that Clarisse sent to get Silena for dinner, stands in the doorway. Her eyes are wide open (much like a deer stuck in the headlights of a speed car) and her hand is clapped over her mouth.

They stare, frozen, at each other for at least ten seconds, each waiting for the other to make a move. Silena waits for Caroline to sprint off, tell the others and for her whole plan to be ruined. But she doesn't.

Caroline slowly removes her hand from her mouth and takes a step inside the door. She reaches round, still staring at Silena like she's about to attack her, to a part of the wall that was previously hidden by the open door and pulls out the boar helmet. She places it back on the floor and darts back out of the room, closing the door behind her.

With the door shut Silena can see clearly a row of hooks that was previously hidden. Each hook but one has a different and equally ugly helmet hung on it. Silena walks slowly towards the helmet on the floor and picks it up, still slightly unbelieving at what just happened.

Ten minutes late, after putting the helmet on, collecting Clarisse's electric spear and giving herself a mental pep-talk (that didn't really do anything in the way of quelling her nerves) Silena starts to head for the arena.

Some are still hacking away at the remaining practise dummies even though darkness is approaching. And the rest are sitting in a small circle amongst the straw from the disembowelled dummies with a small, makeshift fire in the middle. Instead of entering from the top gate and hiding under the rafters. Silena pushes open the big doors and they open with a bang. She strides in with faux confidence.

The flames in the bonfire shoot up by about ten feet and turn a bright, sparkling orange; obviously they've used the same enchantments as is used on the regular bonfire.

The Ares campers turn to face Silena. They all look slightly bewildered as who they think is Clarisse stumbles towards them. She finally stops and starts to address them.

'Erm…' Silena looks round at all the Ares campers that are slowly gathering in front of her, on their feet. 'I have decided that, in despite of our quarrel with the other cabins, our pride isn't worth our friends' lives.'

She looks over at Caroline who's hiding at the back of the pack. Caroline shakes her head, indicating that she didn't tell anyone.

Looking at all of their faces, Silena knows that each and every one of them has no misconception of her identity, but they're still willing to pretend because they want to fight. Silena smiles. They're children of Ares, even if Clarisse tells them not to they'll fight…they just need a leader to rally around.

'So, we'll take the chariots and Pegasi and we'll be at Manhattan by morning.'

The campers all nod their heads and look excited at the prospect of getting to fight.

'Okay, then, go get your armour and meet me at the stables.' Says Silena.

Everybody is sitting in their respective chariots, waiting for Silena's command to take off.

Silena has left one chariot behind so a couple of people at the back are a bit cramped. But she told everyone they had to leave a way for Argus to travel…everyone knows it's for Clarisse (who, thankfully, is nowhere to be seen so far) when she realises they've gone.

Mark, the Ares camper sitting next to Silena nudges her shoulder and gives a little nod.

Silena swallows and licks her lips nervously before yelling, 'Lets go!' and the top of her lungs. All at once the air is filled with the sound of Pegasi hooves beating on the ground and each chariot rises in unison, heading in the direction of Manhattan.

'ARES!' Silena yells and raises her spear as they ride into battle. Her war cry is echoed by the campers behind her. She can't deny it; it's nice to be able to be a real leader for once. Being the Aphrodite counsellor entails mostly breaking up cat fights over shoes more than anything and Silena can't help but enjoy the power that being Clarisse gives her.

The back six chariots veer off to join the fight against the monster army and Silena gulps when she sees up close what they're fighting. The Drakon's giant eyes are huge, beady eyes stare into her own and Silena averts her gaze, resisting the urge to faint. The back two chariots aren't so lucky…the drivers are paralyzed by the Drakon's death-stare and they crash into a nearby building.

When they get close enough Mark yells, 'NOW!' and a volley of spears fly at the Drakon. Silena has to use both hands to throw but she doesn't miss, which is a first.

'Ares, to me!' The riders of the two crashed chariots respond to Silena's cry and jump into the back chariots. Silena coughs and tries to lower her voice an octave but she's seized by fear, making any coherent thought almost impossible.

Suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere, the Drankons tail swings around and flips Silena's chariot and the one behind her. She's thrown ten feet from the wreckage along with Caroline. Caroline quickly jumps to her feet, pulling Silena with her.

Silena feels like her head is about to fall off her shoulders but the adrenaline fuelling her body pushes her back towards the action. The drakon sees them approaching and it rears its ugly head, hissing and spitting as it goes, then lunges.

Silena did the only thing that came natural—she raised her spear and jammed the thing right in its eye, but Caroline isn't as lucky. The thing swallows her with one gulp. Caroline disappeared into its mouth with a flash of auburn hair and then shes no more.

Silena feels like she should have some significant reaction but she can't bring herself to feel any guilt or sorrow, she just tightens her grip on the spear and goes for another jab. 'ARES!' Her voice comes out weirdly shrill again.

'WAIT!' Someone shouts, Silena looks round and she sees Percy, running towards her, yelling.

And then she's on the ground, screaming because it feels like someone is systematically burning off every nerve ending in her facing with a branding iron. Her vision blur but she can still make out the faces that are crowding above her—Annabeth, Mark, some other Ares campers and…Clarisse.

Clarisse cradles Silena's head in her arms. It should hurt, but it doesn't because everything is numbing. 'What were you thinking?' a tear-streaked Clarisse says.

Silena tries to explain, but her throat is sandpaper blocking the words in her mouth. 'Wouldn't…listen.' She licks her lips but there isn't any moisture left in her, 'Cabin would…only follow you.'

'So you stole my armour…' Silena tries to listen but the thudding of her heart is become too loud. 'NONE of you noticed?'

Silena's mind drifts to Caroline. She noticed, they all noticed. 'Don' blame them. They wanted to believe I was you.'

She could see Clarisse talking but her words were blurring into meaningless buzz. Silena has no delusions. She is dying. In a few minutes she won't be is…she will be was. But they have to know, she can't die a faux-hero. 'All my fault, the drakon, Charlie's death…camp endangered—'

Clarisse shakes her head. Silena wriggles the bracelet off of her hand and opens her palm.

Nobody realises what it is but a look of recognition passes Percy's eyes.

Silena tries to nod and explain. 'Before—before I liked Charlie, Luke was nice to me. He was so—charming. Handsome. Later, I wanted to stop helping him but her threatened to tell. He promised…' Breathing is getting harder. It feels as if her lungs are collapsing inside of her. 'He promised I was saving lives. Fewer people would get hurt. He told me he wouldn't hurt—Charlie. He lied to me.'

Silena rasps one more rattling breath as her sight fades into a white, blinding light. She would think she's dead but Clarisse's hand is still gripped tightly around her own, 'Forgive me.'

They light fades, but not into the scene of a battle-ravaged Manhattan. Her eyes aren't a million miles away. They're exactly 2778 miles away. In LA, Valencia Boulevard, standing outside DOA records. And standing in front of her, dressed in clean white jeans and t-shirt, grinning from ear to ear is Charlie.

Silena tries to run forward but Clarisse's hand is still holding her back, holding her to the living. 'Charlie…See Charlie.' And then she's free.

Silena runs forward and Charlie scoops her up into a giant, warm bear hug.

Silena is dead. But she is indefinitely alive.

A.N. Woa…that was exactly 4 800 words long. If you're still here after all that please review! I don't do much canon so tell me if you like my interpretation of Silena or if you hate it! Did I nail it or fail it? Tell me in your review and I'll be sure to check out your stuff ;-) Thanks for sticking with me for 7 and ¾ pages!

~Jelly