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Return from the Labyrinth
She doesn't know why she's here, sitting next to the boy who hasn't moved in weeks, in the early hours of the morning, when the sky is at its darkest and blackness seems to be swallowing everything in one harsh gulp. It's hours after lights out, the same length of time she's been sitting here, unable to speak. Everyone else in the Infirmary is asleep, and she should be, too, back in her cabin, but she can't, not yet.
She has to say goodbye.
Swallowing hard, she whispers, "We lost six campers today. None of my siblings, thank the gods, but that's still six too many." Her mind wanders to Lee Fletcher, and she wonders what he would say about what she's about to do, but it doesn't really matter because the son of Apollo is dead, and it hurts like little shards of glass digging into her skin [1]. "War is coming. Real war, and we're going to lose a lot more than six. Everyone's going to have to improve, and everyone's going to have to stay focused on training. There can't be any distractions, not now." Fingers clench in her lap, but she forces herself to continue. "And...and you're a distraction. I've spent all these months helping you, and nothing's worked. And now you're barely even hanging on, and...and it's time you let go." Heart throbbing in her chest, she lowers her head and murmurs, "I need to let go. I can't save you. I want to, and I've tried to, but there's nothing I can do, and I have to accept that." Strands of hair fall into her face, and she convinces herself those are what are causing her eyes to water. "Besides, there's no point in you staying here anymore. Just, just let go, okay? Whatever you're clinging to, it's not worth it. Death's gotta be better than this. And the judges, they'll probably go easy on you, you know? You're young, and it's not like you led the Titan army or anything. They'll probably send you to the Fields of Asphodel." Just the thought of him getting sent to the Fields of Punishments makes her stomach church and bile climb into her throat. "So...so stop fighting. You've fought long enough." She fiddles with a faded red hairband around her wrist and she tries to forgot who got it for her years ago when she was complaining about all the ones that had broken or gotten lost. After a moment, she sighs and whispers, "I'm sorry Chris."
And it's ridiculous that she says this to him, like it's ridiculous that she's said this whole speech, like it's ridiculous that she's visited him every day since Chiron declared that he lost the will to live. Because he is a traitor who fought for the Titans, who betrayed camp and everyone in it, and he doesn't even know what she's saying, and he certainly doesn't deserve it-because it's not like she ever got a goodbye-but she can't help herself. Even afer all this time, she still cares about him, remembers him before the betrayal, when he would tag along with the Ares cabin rather than his own and flash her that smile that made her stomach tingle and sneak out after hours to meet her in the woods, just to spend more time with her. And even after all this time, and even though he only did it a handful of times before he joined Luke, she can still remember his lips on hers, tasting like caramel and and Dr. Pepper.
She leans over and presses one small, gentle kiss to his forehead before she forces herself to leave, knowing she can't handle staying any longer. On unstable feet she returns to her cabin, to dream dreams of death, those bathed in the glory of battle and those which are not, and she awakes entangled in sheets and fighting just to breathe. No one asks why.
No one has to.
The day is spent helping the injured, and she welcomes the distraction from her thoughts. It's only when she spots Mr. D does her mind start drifting to Chris, but she shakes her head to free her of those thoughts. He won't save Chris now, and besides, he's probably already dead.
Which is why it's all the more surprising when she bumps into a very much alive Chris right outside her cabin door.
She had never really thought about what it would be like to see him, but she knows that this was not a top possibility, him just standing there smiling like he's waiting to walk her to the campfire, like he hadn't up-and-left in the middle of the night to join the enemy. And honestly, considering that she'd braced herself to accept his death, it's actually really annoying that he isn't dead.
That's why she finds herself punching him, hard, her fist connecting with his nose, and blood dribbles onto her fingers. "What the Hades?" she snarls, her body trembling.
"Good to see you too, Clarisse," he murmurs, reaching up to touch the injury, but that smile doesn't leave his face.
"You...you...you..."
"I see you've gotten more articulate since the last time I saw you."
"The last time you saw me was the night before you bailed!" she spits, and she sees the smile waver. "You joined Luke's army! You fought against us!" She punches him again, this time in the arm. The fact that he just takes it makes her angrier. "And now, now you're just standing here and all you have to say is, 'Good to see you?' That's all I get from you? Do you know how long it's been? Do you have any idea what I went through with you?"
It's Chris, so it's really hard to predict what he'll do, but him wrapping his arms around her and squeezing was something she certinly wasn't expecting.
"What are you doing?" she demands, wanting to fight back but finding herself enjoying the embrace more than she'd ever admit.
"I'm giving you a hug," he explains softly. "That's what you give to a person that you care about. And I do care about you, Clarisse, and I know you won't believe me but I do. I left camp because I was stupid and naive and I wanted to take revenge on whoever up there is ignoring me. And it was wrong, okay? I know that because Luke's whole promise of a better future was bull. I know that now, and I know that no future would be better without you. I thought of you every day. I worried about you."
"You didn't come back," she protests. "You didn't come back so how much did you really care?"
"Because I'm not as brave as you are, and I'm not as strong-willed as you are, and I kept telling myself that it would all work out in the end." He hugs her closer, despite her pushing against the embrace. "And it was stupid."
"I could have told you that from the beginning! And that doesn't make up for the fact that you left me!" She hears what she said, and she knows she can't take it back, so she adds, "You were my best friend, and you told me I was perfect, and you left without even a goodbye! Who does that?"
She pushes again, but he just tightens his hold. "An idiot. That's who. An idiot who bought a bunch of lies because he couldn't see what he had." She feels tears on her face, but she can't tell if they're his or hers. "Mr. D, he had me keep the memories of the time after I lost my sanity. I know about everything you did for me. You were amazing through everything, and I didn't deserve any of that, and I still don't deserve you, and if you hate me, that's fine. You can hate me as long as you want, but I still wanted to thank you. You have always been the only person to stick by my side, and nothing I say or do will ever make up for all you have done. So thank you, Clarisse." He lets her go and offers a small smile. "Now, if you need me, I'm going to go back to the Hermes cabin and hope that when everyone comes back from the campfire, no one kills me."
He's only gotten a few feet before she finds herself blurting, "So if you kept the memories, you know about me giving up on you yesterday?"
Why she bothers asking is a mystery, even to herself, but she needs to know.
Chris doesn't even hesitate: "You never gave up on me. You just let me go." In the fading summer light, she catches that smile on his face. "Daughers of Ares, they don't give up. That's what you always said. And I trust your word-always have, always will."
He continues to walk, and after a moment, she follows. "You don't have to skip out on the campfire," she mutters, falling in step. "Everyone's going to think you're a coward, don't encourage the image by hiding. Go out and face them."
"'Course that would be your advice," he snorts.
She punches his arm again, but it's significantly lighter, the ones she used to give him. "Am I ever wrong?"
"No." He turns to her. "But it might be easier with someone by my side."
Exaggerating a sigh, she says, "Fine. I'll stick by you." After a moment, she adds softly, "But I'm still mad at you."
"I would expect nothing less," he assures her, his hand brushing hers gently. "And I promise, I will do whatever I have to, however long it takes, to gain your friendship again."
It takes him only through the first five songs of the campfire.
Because as much as it would pain Clarisse to admit, he never truly lost it.
[1]: Head cannon-Clarisse and Lee became friends during the Golden Laurel Challenge when Clarisse ended up telling him about Chris. He was one of the few outside of her cabin who knew her real feelings towards Chris, and he kept his eyes out for her, if she ever needed someone to lean on.