I only own the plot of this story, not the characters or the pj's world.

...

The summer was over and twelve-years-old Clarisse was in the woods, spear and knife ready for any monsters coming out of nowhere. After all, it was late in the night, and they were known for surprising demigods that were lost- or that were trying to get some fun hunting them, as Clarisse was doing.

Normally she would be getting herself into a fight with someone, but almost every camper was at home now, and the few others were too worried about the whole situation of Luke leaving and betraying the camp to fight.
So she was after those that would never go anywhere- or would be too worried to fight: monsters.

As she marked another tree with her initials -so she could know for where she came from- some twigs snapped nearby behind her. Turning around and putting her spear in a defensive way, she waited for the monster, just to look confused when Chris came inside the clearing she was. His eyes on the floor, his hands trying to take out all the twigs and leaves that were on his hair, he definitely didn't know Clarisse was there.

Frowning, she tried to catch his attention: "What are you doin' here, punk?"

The surprise showed in his face just for a second before he grinned.

"I can ask you the same, I think" As Clarisse raised an eyebrow, he continued, with a shrug "I got lost. About, just two or three hours ago"

"You got lost, just for two or three hours? In the middle of a forest full of monsters? Are you crazy or just stupid?"

Chris needed to laugh at that. "You act like that never happened before" In fact, demigods getting lost in the woods wasn't uncommon, perhaps not a thing that happened every day- but once or twice a month. "By the way, I think you're the crazy one here. What were you thinking about doing all those marks on the trees?" He was getting closer while they were talking, only stopped once upon he was a few steps from the tree. He put one finger on the nearest mark. "Are you trying to make any dryad furious or...?"

"At least I'm not going to get lost" Clarisse mumbled, pretending she was angry, or at least, irritated because of him. But she wasn't, and both knew it. Because that was the way they were around each other.

"You have a point there" He moved again so he wasn't in front of the tree anymore, but of Clarisse. Meanwhile, she moved her spear away so she wouldn't hurt him with the spearhead by accident. She wasn't that bad person.

"Of course I have, little punk."

"I'm older than you, Clarisse…"

"Do I look like I care?"

"...and I have a name, you know." She was still holding her spear near to her, but he ignored it, taking another step.

"I'm going to call you by the names I wan-… " she stopped herself. "What the Hades you think you are doing, punk?"

He just had put one of his hands on her hip while he took a last step.

"You're dead." He had a smile -a big, weird smile- on his face, as he saw the exact moment when the realization came to her.

Along the years, Chiron had invented many ways to train: someones dangerous, someones funny, someones that nobody remembers…

But, one everybody at camp knew and liked was the One-touch-and-you-are-out.
It was one of the first ways of training they did: as many campers as they wanted, fighting and trying to touch each other, and at the same time defending themselves of others attacks. If someone touched you in any way- with his body or weapon- you were out. The only one to not be touched was the winner.

It has always taken the most competitive side of all the campers- the newbies or the older campers.
It quickly became a joke among some campers, and although they weren't training, they would touch somebody who was distracted and say 'You're death', declaring themselves as winners.
That selected group of people included Chris, who could actually never beat Clarisse at it.
Until now.

But, after all, that wasn't the reason he was smiling. But because of the deal they had made after the last training they had together- where he promised her that the next time he would win. The deal where she promised that she would let him do whatever he wanted to her cabin if he won, where he changed that price for a kiss and ran away before she could even protest.

He promised himself to not run away anymore if he ever has the possibility to kiss her.

And with his hand on her hip, so close that if he inclined just a bit his head, they lips were going to touch, he had the opportunity. But he knew Clarisse, and he will never oblige her to do something. So, despite that he could kiss her if he wanted, he asked for it.

Twelve-years-old Clarisse's heart was beating rampant, her mind running as they thought did. Say no? Say yes? Punch him in the face? She didn't know.

Or perhaps, for the first time in her life, do what an older person said to her some time ago:

"When you don't know what to do, close your eyes, and don't think about anything. Just follow your instincts. As a demigod, your instincts are better."

And she did the last option. She didn't think, just closed her eyes and follow her instincts.

She kissed him, a shudder running through her body, and a tickling starting there where his hand was touching her. Her spear made a deaf sound when she dropped it.

When they apart of each other, both were smiling.
It wasn't long before Chris inclined again.

They didn't spend a lot of time in the woods after that.

...

When the sun was on the sky again, and the campers were having breakfast serenely, the only person that wasn't in the mood for anything was Clarisse, who couldn't help herself but look for Chris.

Because he was nowhere.

…

When the sun was over and everybody was in bed, Clarisse tried to convince herself that he just got lost in the woods again, although she knew that it was not true.

The next day, after the campfire, she reported him to Chiron as another camper who had left the camp.
It hurt her as nothing did before, but she still tried to go on with her life. There wasn't anything she could do, anyway.

And when Thalia's tree was dying, and when she got the opportunity to go on a mission, she took it without hesitation. Because it was her opportunity to make her father proud, and, after all, the only person who would miss her if she died...well, she didn't even know if that person was still alive.

…

When he was back, not being himself, she used to wanted to punch something, somebody, all the time. The impotence she felt was taking the best of her.

She wanted to punch herself, for not being smarter and for not having realized that all those comments against the gods weren't just comments of an angry boy during a bad moment. She wanted to punch herself for couldn't forget the moment when she saw him for the last time before he left the camp.

She wanted to punch herself for couldn't do something for him at this moment, when he was dying, crying and screaming because of all the horror he had seen.

She wanted to punch him. How could he run away?

However, She wanted to take away all his fear, to take away his insanity. Maybe he made wrong decisions, but he didn't deserve that, right?

She wanted so bad to make he felt better, to make him forget all about the labyrinth.

She wanted Chris back. The real, sane, Chris, not the broken one, that couldn't say one sentence with sense.

She wanted to cry out her impotence, all her pain, but she didn't.

Because, if she did, if she goes down, who was going to take care of Chris? Who was going to keep him alive? Who was going to be the pillar of the camp, if the one that never feels afraid of nothing, go down? What will her father think if she cries because of a traitor?

No, she couldn't go down, she couldn't cry. She needed to be strong. For the camp. For her father. For him.

When Dionysius come and fixed what was wrong with him, Clarisse didn't know what to do.

She used to talk a lot with him after she realized that made he felt better. That made him act less...insane.

She used to tell him that he was out of that place, that he was going to be better when Dionysus come. But now, she didn't know what to say to him.

So, she turned around, and look to the god on the room.

"Thank you, lord Dionysius. We're both really grateful" The only thing that Clarisse needed to oblige herself to say was the part of 'lord'. Not that she would admit it, anyway.

"yeah, whatever." Dionysius shrugged, as he didn't care anything. But he had his eyes a little red, and his voice was weak.

Both god and girl looked at the boy. He didn't talk, he didn't even move, his eyes always on the god. After a few more seconds in silence, the god leaves the room and both demigods stayed alone.

Clarisse closed her eyes and counted to ten before opened it and take a step closer.

He didn't act.

She took another one.

He finally moved his eyes so they were looking each other.

Another step.

Her name came out of his lips like a whisper.

Her shoulders started to shake.

She took another step, and she was next to his bed now.

He said her name again.

She fell on her knees.

Slowly he put one hand on her cheek.

She has started to cry.

Cry for all the pain he felt, for all those days that he wasn't by her side. For those days she didn't know where he was, or if he was still alive. For those days he was with her physically, but his mind was in another place.

For all the fear she felt. For all the desperation and impotence that made her felt sick.

And she started to cry for relief. Because he was there, physically and mentally. Because after all, he was safe.

And with her.

...

Hi, there. Hope you would like this one. I hardly remember what it says, since I wrote it little by little every day between my lessons xD I finished it some time ago, but I couldn't find the time to update.

thank you all for the reviews.

-Chapter without correction-