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A war breaks out in the simplest slights and she knows this better than anyone else. Clarisse is a daughter of Ares who can feel rage simmer in the grinding teeth of children who felt abandoned. At the end of the pointed blades, she can see the tremor of demigods who wish to kill for the sake of punishment away from the weight of a soldier. She is tired of taking their rage and allowing the emotion to possess her body. But she does it anyway because she knows rage can burn to hatred — something that gets you killed when directed towards divine beings.
When she sees the boy’s sea-green eyes, she wonders when she will carry his rage for him. He is the prophecy child who is burdened with the world. At an age too young, the gods wanted to kill him for being a risk, an inconvenience to their power. What boy won’t pray for them to crash and burn? What child won’t learn anger? But unlike the other demigods, he can keep his rage locked in. He can suppress the anger because he loves them so much that it makes her want to revolt against the sacrifice it nips at his being.
He knows she hates him. (She doesn’t.) But he trusts the saving force for camp because while she sees anger, he knows loyalty like no other. In her eyes, anger, and brute, Percy Jackson trusts her loyalty to the camp and its demigods. She becomes a hero because he knows she loves Camp Half-Blood.
The river takes his soul to save the gods yet she walks away from a fight for pride. Even though it was a short time, it cost her best friend. A girl who saw her as beautiful — a girl whose beauty melted for Clarisse. And when she held on to the symbol of another side, she wanted to grieve. Nobody would see Silena the same way if they knew. But Percy Jackson disallowed any shame on her name. He commanded the room with half a soul and all the burden of a hero to spare a moment to ensure Silena is remembered as a hero.
From then on, Clarisse knew she’d shed the hearts of rage to her use if it meant she could give Percy more time to understand he was loved as much as he loved.
“Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to grab your medals and walk away?” It was a rare moment to see Percy Jackson alone. Everyone crowded over him and sought for his gaze. But in these moments in the evening, she wished to see him without the armor. And he was devastatingly the most hero-like at these hours. “Who then is invincible enough to rage on the gods when demigods suffer at their hands? His tan skin did not shine under the moonlight like it did in Apollo’s watch but it drew focus on his charity. The lines on his eyes told much of the never-ending children listed in his mind like prayers. While his skin is bulletproof, he takes on the weight of everything else. “Even if someone has the bravery to dive into the river, why should they have to?” And Clarisse sees someone who deserves a safe place to cry. And so she allows him to taint the inspiring savior image by offering him a cigarette.
They do this every evening until he can’t breathe when he loses himself to the number of names burned on the pyre. He cries about saving Annabeth from himself. He shouts underwater wishing for a wave to take him away like how many heroes swept under his powers during the battle. And he floats wishing for a prophecy to promise his death this time. And Clarisse risks it all to swim after him and keep his body on land. “You don’t have to lose your life even more! You don’t have to burn your soul after the guilt!” He can’t hear her, but he feels her rage cocoon over him. “You can’t just die when you haven’t tasted happiness without sacrifice.”
The Cabin was supposed to be his place. But she didn’t allow him to let his storms suffocate him in the dark alone. Her rage attracted Poseidon’s attention. But instead of having the god transform her into a creature condemned to sea, he unlocked the door for her to reach his son.
“I can’t die. I can’t die until they’re okay.” He barely spoke but it was always about those he held loyalty over. She was not jealous — she was just angry that he chose to live because they couldn’t suffer in his eyes. Why can’t he understand he never did deserve to carry the burden of Atlas forever? “You stupid head, your death shouldn’t be dependent on our conditions.”
She knew then when he was taken by the gods once again that he’ll fall further. The tragedy he took on to survive Tartarus promised him eternal pain. She knew his loyalty would outweigh his rage for what had happened to him. He never cared much about his pain. But she’ll rage for him, upfront at the gods to make sure he’ll never have to risk anything for the world.