Drew Tanaka cries alone in the rain.

The tears are dripping, dripping down her face; but they are lost in the deluge. It never rains in camp. It shouldn't be raining. But the heavens are crying along with the campers, and no-one feels the need to stop the downpour which oh-so reminds them of themselves and their losses.

Percy Jackson had been there, hours ago—while the others had mourned over the other shrouds (the ones belonging to the real heroes) he had come to pay his respects to a villain.

(all villains have heroes inside)

He'd stayed there for the better part of the afternoon, silently mourning her cousin. And then he'd left a letter on the shrine.

"He'll burn at midnight," he had told her, quietly, quietly. "Read it to him before then."

And now, with the rain soaking her dress and her make-up dripping, Drew starts to talk to an empty shroud.

"Dear E—Ethan," she starts shakily, "I'm sorry.

"I didn't mean for it to end this way. For you, I mean. You made the right choice in the end, you know. You tried to fight back. And that makes you a hero.

"Heroes aren't always fairy tale princes. Maybe you thought so. But really, a hero's just a person who does the right thing, no matter the consequences. They call me a hero. But I'm not. You are. You tried to kill that monster and you would have succeeded and they would have put you up on a pedestal instead. They should be, right now. You deserve it.

"You know Luke? Well, of course you know him—that's a silly thing to say. But anyways, I made him a promise. I told him that all the unclaimed, all the unloved, it won't—it won't happen again. That wasn't just a promise to him. That was a promise to you, too. You were unclaimed, Ethan—unloved. And I'm going to change that. All your future brothers and sisters are going to have their own cabins and they're going to be loved.

"You'll go to Elysium. I know you will," and then Drew's voice cracks again, "sincerely, Percy Jackson. The villain."

The letter now wet and tattered from the water is only soaked more by her onslaught of tears. They're coming faster now. "Oh, Ethan, I'm so sorry. If only I knew . . ."

"It—it'll be alright, Drew," a voice speaks from behind her.

She looks behind and lets out another sob. "Lacy? I'm . . . so . . . why?"

Lacy's eyes might be runnier than Drews'. "I'm going to miss him," she says, but her voice is strong (unlike Drew's, which is still cracking), "he told me it would be hard. I didn't think . . . I didn't think it would be this hard."

Her voice is strong but her eyes are streaming. Lacy and Drew are enemies in the Aphrodite cabin (all children are, really, except for Lacy and Mitchell), but right now they embrace as sisters, sobbing over each other.

Drew was his cousin and Lacy was his girlfriend, but both of them loved Ethan and both of them regret his death. Heroes aren't born—they're made. And they can be made anytime. Ethan was made a hero when he was hit in the stomach with a sword shard. He was a hero when he fell from Mount Olympus.

He died a hero when he hit the ground.

"Hey," Drew says, "do you want some time alone with him?"

She really really loves (wait; loved, she cries) Ethan, but she's spent enough time with him and now it's Lacy's turn to be with him. Drew doesn't want to leave her favorite cousin for the final time, but Lacy deserves to be with the boy that she loves.

"That . . ." Lacy doesn't continue, but Drew pats her on the shoulder and leaves her anyways.

Lacy Matthews misses Ethan Nakamura a lot.

Most girls her age wouldn't be mourning a guy like she is, but she isn't most girls her age. As a demigod who's lived through plenty of war, she knows that the relationships she has matter. She knows that most of them won't last.

He'd told her when he'd joined the Titans—he'd apologized, wiped away her tears, and kissed her. But that day had been two years ago. Now he was gone.

She was crying now, too, but he wasn't here to wipe the tears away. And so Lacy falls to the ground and lets her heart sob out into the rain.

"It hurts, doesn't it?"

She looks around and doesn't see anyone. "What . . . ? Who . . . where are you?"

A quiet laugh sounds out. "Thalia Grace. Right behind you."

"Oh," Lacy gets up and turns around to see a lithe figure in a Hunter's uniform. She remembers Thalia Grace—she's been told stories about the girl ever since she came to Camp, when she was six. They'd never talked. Even before she became a Hunter of Artemis, the daughter of Zeus hadn't been very fond of Aphrodite girls.

If Lacy hadn't been Aphrodite's daughter she wouldn't have sensed Thalia's heartache—and even as one, her sixth sense for lost love was weak near her. It took her some time to understand what she was feeling.

"Oh," she repeats, eyes downcast, still flooding. "I'm sorry. It must have hurt a lot more for you."

Thalia smiles and walks up next to her, placing an arm across her shoulder. It's a symbol of sisterhood. "I doubt it did. I had time to let go."

"Luke was a good guy, you know," Lacy says, "at least he'll be remembered for that."

"Ethan will, too," Thalia squeezes her hand, "our boys were traitors until the end, huh?"

"Yeah," she tries to smile, but she can't.

They sit down on a rock and the next hour is just spent with them quietly coping with each other. The rain doesn't stop, and the tears don't either, but maybe it's okay. Maybe they just have to suffer in silence.

And at the end, Thalia grabs her hand again and looks into her eyes.

"Look," she breathes, "I know from experience that it hurts, but just . . . just remember."

"Remember what?" she asks, but she has a good idea what coming next.

"You'll join him, someday," she smiles.

When they leave Lacy notes the broken look on Thalia's face.

Maybe immortality isn't all it's cut out to be.

sorry i haven't been answering pms, i'm seriously sick (no really) and i don't even know how i wrote this . . . i'm on so much medication it's actually kinda hard to stay awake, forget go through my day.

i might continue this as a series of EthanxLacy drabbles. i like the ship. a lot. ah. fanon love (well of course i love the freaking ship i made it up in the first place . . . it's almost my otp but nothing beats thaluke ;)).

-Dee