The original scene is found in The Battle of the Labyrinth.

Percy was sitting in the arena at Camp Half-Blood playing fetch with Mrs. O'Leary. The massive hellhound surely wanted him to put more effort into throwing the shield, but Percy's efforts were focused elsewhere.

This quest was different than anything Percy had done before and he felt completely lost even outside the Labyrinth. The most frustrating aspect of the entire thing was that Percy was in the same spot they had started but had nothing to show for it. Even last winter, when it seemed all the questing party could do was run from place to place, losing Bianca in the process, they were at least getting closer to San Francisco. For all the losses Percy had endured over the years, there were always some accomplishments to accompany them. But now, there was nothing but loss it seemed.

Tyson and Grover were still inside the maze. Quintis had vanished. Luke was getting closer to the camp with every passing moment. And to top it all off, Percy had singlehandedly caused a volcanic explosion that may have awoken a sleeping titan that the gods themselves feared. Things didn't seem like they could get much worse.

But then they did.

As Mrs. O'Leary came bounding back to Percy with the shield in her mouth, she suddenly stopped and dropped the object from her mouth. The hair on her back began to stand up straight and a low growl came from her mouth. Percy turned to see what had caused the hellhound's mood to change so suddenly, only to see his oldest rival, Clarisse La Rue, standing in the arena.

"Hey, punk," she said, keeping her eyes firmly on Mrs. O'Leary as she did so.

Percy stood up without saying anything and walked over to the hellhound, putting his hand on her back which seemed to calm her down enough that Clarisse broke eye contact and began walking the rim of the arena. She stabbed at every dummy with her spear, which did little to ease Percy's stress.

"So, you and the princess are going back in?" she asked after impaling another straw victim.

"The camp isn't safe," Percy answered. "Plus, I think I know how to navigate the maze."

"Annabeth doesn't seem too confident about your scheme."

Percy scratched Mrs. O'Leary under her chin and asked her to give him some space. The hellhound looked at him and back at Clarisse as she impaled another imposter enemy, seemingly to indicate to Percy that she thought he was out of his mind for wanting to keep the daughter of Ares as company. But after another request, Mrs. O'Leary gave Percy an affectionate lick before obeying his command and finding a shady spot in the area to lay down.

Percy walked over to Clarisse but kept a comfortable distance so she could continue her spear practice without him getting in the way.

"Did she talk to you about it?" he asked. "Annabeth, I mean."

"She didn't say much," Clarisse responded. "But she didn't need to. I've gotten pretty good at being able to tell what she's thinking."

Percy still wasn't quite sure how he felt about Annabeth and Clarisse being friends. The first time Percy had met Clarisse she bullied Annabeth and then proceeded to give her best effort at shoving his face into a toilet. The ensuing flood that Percy unleashed in unwitting self-defense got him on Clarisse's kill list and earned him a permanent scowl from every other child of Ares. Besting the war god in combat didn't help Percy's case, either.

But Clarisse seemed different now. Percy now knew that her secret mission had been to investigate a Labyrinth opening in Phoenix the previous winter. He knew she found Chris Rodriguez down there and experienced something else that shook her core. He didn't know what it was, but it had clearly left an impact on her. And as much as he hated to admit it, seeing Clarisse in a shaken state was not something Percy enjoyed. Her being the camp bully was the normal thing every summer, and Percy could use some normal.

Clarisse tossing her spear into the head of a straw dummy brought him back to the uncomfortable reality, though.

"How was she?" Percy asked, deciding to keep the topic on Annabeth. "While I was...you know…"

"Dead?" Clarisse finished.

Percy nodded.

"It was rough, Percy," she began, ripping out her spear from the dummy's head while doing so. "Logic dictated that you shouldn't have survived and it's hard to ignore that inclination when you're the daughter of the physical manifestation of wisdom. But she insisted that you were still alive the entire time."

"But she was speaking at my funeral."

"Annabeth wasn't about to allow anyone else to burn your shroud or deliver a eulogy in your memory. Would you have acted any differently if we decided to hold a funeral for Annabeth last winter?"

Percy had never thought about what that scene would have or could have looked like. Truth be told, he never once thought about life without Annabeth. Being the one to burn her shroud? That was pretty much the most unrealistic thing Percy could imagine and when you're a half-blood there's not a lot of experiences that can be dismissed like that.

"I don't know," Percy finally answered. "It was different I guess? I could feel that she was alive. I knew for certain she wasn't dead."

Clarisse started tossing javelins at dummy's positioned at the opposite side of the arena, landing each one in the chest. "She said the same thing about you."

"What?" Percy realized that he had never talked to Annabeth much about her visions, but every half-blood had them. Did she have visions of him at Ogygia? Did she see him with Calypso? All of a sudden, Percy felt incredibly nervous about going back into an enclosed space with Annabeth.

"Feeling that you were alive. That's what Annabeth kept going on about. I was convinced she was going to swear on the Styx that you were going to come back."

"That's a bit extreme," Percy replied, slightly relieved that Clarisse hadn't mentioned any visions.

"Not really. I didn't believe you were dead either."

There was hardly anything that could leave Percy Jackson speechless anymore, but Clarisse La Rue telling him that she doubted his supposed death after he had been launched out a volcano? That warranted a draw drop. Clarisse caught his expression and immediately rolled her eyes.

"Don't get it twisted, punk. Annabeth and I had very different motivations for believing you were still amongst the living."

"What-no, wait-what?" Percy stumbled.

Clarisse just shook her head and sat down on the dirt. "Ever since you insulted Ares, I've lived every day with an annoying pain in my head which becomes particularly excruciating whenever you're around. I'm pretty sure it's extra motivation to despise you. The entire time you were supposedly dead, that pain never went away. That's why I believed you weren't dead."

Percy sat down next to her. She took one look at him before adding "A girl can hope though."

Percy wanted to chuckle, but it seemed not even Clarisse making not so properly veiled hopes of his demise could distract him from the task ahead. He was tired. That was the long and short of it. He was tired of the war, of fighting, and just wanted to lay in the strawberry fields without feeling like the end of the world was just around the corner.

He remembered what Thalia said at the Hoover Dam the previous winter after the skeleton security guards had left Rachel alone.

Must be nice to be a mortal.

The silence between them must have bothered Clarisse since she was the one who broke it.

"No comeback? No smart ass remark? By Olympus, you really are distraught aren't you?"

"I was just thinking about something Thalia said," Percy replied. "How a mortal life would be better."

"Sure. I guess," Clarisse shrugged, but Percy noticed she became tenser.

"Have you ever thought about it?"

"What? Being a mortal?"

"I mean, having a normal teenage life. Or whatever normal is supposed to be for teenagers."

"Like...prom?"

Clarisse had said the word with such disgust it seemed to cause her actual physical pain. But Percy thought it was interesting how Clarisse's first association with a typical teenage experience was a school dance marked by fancy clothes and lavish festivities. Percy almost laughed at the image of Clarisse in a prom dress, but then he thought about it harder and it didn't seem so absurd. Percy had never seen Clarisse in anything but combat gear, so it was difficult to imagine Clarisse in a typical prom outfit. But it wasn't impossible.

Percy wondered about how Clarisse would be if she had been born mortal. Would she still be a bully or would she be the nicest person you've ever met? Would she be insecure? Percy thought about Chris Rodriguez asking Clarisse to prom in some over-the-top way and how she would have smiled in a beautiful dress taking pictures with him. She would have been happy, and that made Percy a little sad since the only time he ever saw Clarisse display joy was at the expense of others, particularly Percy himself. It would have been hard to 12-year-old Percy that in just two years he'd be sitting next to Clarisse and he'd be feeling sad for her because she hadn't been given a fair chance at happiness, but here he was.

Careful not to look at her directly, Percy used his periphery vision to try and gauge Clarisse's reaction. She was too quiet and tense to not be thinking about the subject. Maybe it was prom or maybe it was something else. Clarisse may have just wanted something as simple as one of her parents picking her up from school and asking how her day was. But Clarisse was a year-round camper; she wouldn't get anything close to that. And that made Percy even sadder.

He was sent back to reality when Clarisse sprang to her feet and picked up her spear.

"You shouldn't think about stuff like that, Jackson," she said. "Stick to the here and now. It might just keep you alive."

"I did already come back from the dead," Percy replied, standing to join her. "Maybe I could crash my funeral again."

Clarisse groaned. "If you give me false hope like that again I'll make sure there isn't a third time."

"Annabeth would probably help," Percy said, causing them both to laugh. Percy couldn't remember the last time he had laughed that whole summer which made it feel even better.

Then Clarisse put her hand on his shoulder and her face was serious.

"All jokes aside, Percy, I've hardly ever seen someone that distraught. It was like you being gone meant a part of her was gone, too."

Percy looked at the ground, unsure of what to say.

"I'm telling you this," Clarisse continued, "because I know from firsthand experience that you two work best together. So, whatever stuff you need to grind out with each other to go back in that awful place, do it."

She then stabbed her spear into the ground and grabbed his shoulders firmly enough to make him look back up.

"You're going to need each other to get to Daedalus. And speaking of Daedalus, there's one more thing I want to tell you before you go back."

"What's up?" Percy inquired.

"I think it might be best if he stays underground if you know what I'm saying."

Percy looked in her eyes and could tell exactly what she was suggesting.

"You want me to kill him?"

"Yes," she answered without hesitation. "But it's less about what I want and what's in the best interest of the camp. Daedalus may be the smartest being that isn't a god, Percy. The enemy can't gain him as an ally. If you can't convince him to join our cause, you need to ensure that risk doesn't become reality."

As much as he wanted to dismiss the idea immediately, Percy couldn't. If Daedalus was somehow still alive in the Labyrinth he was a danger to either side in the war. His existence was a strategic liability when it came to ensuring the safety of Camp Half-Blood. But Percy couldn't focus on strategy alone; there was the morality of his actions to consider, too. Percy had never killed anyone, never even really attempted. He'd thought about killing Luke a lot more than he wanted to admit, but he still wasn't sure if he could actually do it despite all that his old friend had done. But Percy's motivations towards Luke were personal. Daedalus was just another figure from history that had made choices in their life that were now impacting Percy's and that hardly seemed like justification for murder.

"I don't know, Clarisse," Percy tried to respond. "I don't think I can just kill someone."

"You've killed monsters before," she replied.

"That's different."

She let go of his shoulders and picked up her spear again.

"We're at war, Percy," she told him. "There are always casualties. Daedalus could prevent more on our side, but he's already taken heroes and he can take more. You need to be focused on protecting the camp. That's your priority."

Percy felt an uncomfortable mixture of emotions. He wanted to be mad at Clarisse for seemingly accusing him of already not being properly focused on the protection of the camp. He wanted to be mad at her for lecturing him about the fight they were in considering he had been on the front lines for several years. But he mostly felt regret because he knew she was right.

Percy's objectives were always mixed with the quests he'd gone on. The first summer at camp he'd been charged with finding the Master Bolt when he just wanted his mom back. Then last summer he'd ventured into the Sea of Monsters not just because the camp was in trouble, but because Grover was too. And just six months ago he joined a quest he wasn't allowed to because Annabeth was in danger. Percy always had something personal to keep him going, and while he had those same motivations here, this time there was more at risk than ever before. If Camp Half-Blood fell, the war was over plain and simple. Percy had to do whatever was necessary to keep that from happening.

He stood up to meet Clarisse's stare.

"When I meet Daedalus, I'll act in the interests of the camp. I promise."

"Good," was all Clarisse said before walking away.

As she was leaving, Percy thought about how it looked like Clarisse was carrying more weight on her shoulders than Atlas, and Percy had some pretty serious credibility when it came to making that comparison. He wondered if Clarisse had ever asked for help or if she even could being the head counselor of the Ares Cabin. Percy remembered seeing Ares berate her on the CSS Birmingham and realized there was something she had been missing her entire life that she needed now more than ever.

Empathy.

"I'm sorry about Chris," he said.

Clarisse stopped so abruptly that it even caught the attention of Mrs. O'Leary. Percy thought for a moment he had made a terrible mistake and that in just a few moments he would be welcomed by the practice dummies on the arena floor but with, hopefully, his limbs still attached. But as Clarisse turned, he did not see the usual rage that burned in her eyes. Instead, it was something familiar; a blend of exhaustion and sadness. Percy had seen it in his own eyes countless times before.

"Like I said," Clarisse said softly, "there are casualties in war and we've lost people. Just make sure, no matter what, Daedalus can't take any more."

"I will."

Clarisse then straightened her back and hardened her expression. Now, Percy thought, she really is going to hurt me. Instead, she had one more surprise left in store.

"It's good to have you back, Percy. Tell anyone I said that and I'll feed you to the harpies."

"Thanks," Percy responded. "For everything, I mean."

"You better get going," Clarisse said as she quickly turned back around. "Don't want to infuriate Annabeth further by being late."

As she walked away, Percy again thought back to his first interaction with Clarisse and all that had transpired on that day. And despite all the turmoil he was feeling at that moment, he couldn't help but think that Clarisse being a new confidant was a pretty good silver lining in a really dark cloud.