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Clarisse was no stranger to death.
Across the years she had lost many people, less and more close to her, both mortal and half-blood. It came with being a demigod and she had been in the business since she turned ten. But still nothing could have prepared her for what she was currently seeing.
The most painful one was the pink shroud covering the body of a girl who was never a fighter, but died fighting. Silena was not made for war, but in her last moments her actions allowed one to change its course. She died a hero, sacrificing herself for the betterment of the world. Clarisse cursed herself for that, she should had never allowed that stupid Aphrodite girl to do it. The only respite she could think of was that now she was in Elysium — because she must had gone there — together with Beckendorf for all eternity.
It would be better if they could live together for all of their lifetimes, though.
The other one that stung especially strongly was that of one of her own brothers. Ares’ kids fight with the force of fire and when they die, they burn just as brightly. Victor died in battle, but before he did so, he had forced many more of their enemies to perish. It didn’t change the fact that he was fifteen and had it not been for the war, he could become the best middleweight fighter of America, or even the world. Something he always wanted to accomplish, but now couldn't.
The last shrouds that caused an uncomfortable knot to form in her stomach were the ones in the most common color amongst all.
The Apollo Cabin was always the second biggest, just after Hermes’. Even if in recent years they got less new demigods just like all the other cabins, they still went into battle with a total of eleven campers, all led by Michael Yew. Which in all honesty was quite the sight, considering he was the shortest of them.
Only four of them came back, which meant that the golden shrouds outnumbered even the gray ones of Hermes’. And two of them weren’t even covering full bodies.
After the battle, the remaining children of Apollo went back to the Williamsburg Bridge, where most of them had died, to scope the area for bodies they were unable to retrieve during the fervor of fighting and trying to stay alive. They were able to fish out two from the East River’s shore and find a total of one foot and four fingers for the third one. The body of the last reported dead was never found, even after Percy had joined them in their search and asked some water creatures for help.
Which hurt, because the last thing Clarisse had ever told him was how she wished he died and now she couldn't even shout in his face that he wasn’t supposed to take it seriously. She never got along with Michael, they were both too temperamented for that to ever happen, but there was a difference between constantly arguing with someone and wishing them dead.
But Clarisse really meant it went she said to all the head counselors she wished they died, didn’t she? Not just Michael, all of them. By some miracle, only him and Silena out of the present back then had actually died, but was it all that different?
Clarisse had wished someone dead and they actually did. When she spoke that in her anger she thought she wouldn’t ever want to see their faces ever again, but now she wished she never did that. Especially since she told that to Michael once more when he offered her the chariot. She told him she wished all the Apollo kids died in that battle, as if dying was enough compensation for wounding her pride.
And then they did.
And from what she heard, the fight on the Williamsburg Bridge was a slaughter . Before Percy arrived they had already lost two, one pierced through the gut by a dracaena that made it to them and attacked from behind and one reduced to shreds — eaten — by a hellhound. Then two fell off the bridge when Kronos had struck it, drowning or crushed from the impact of their fall. The last one to die on the first day of fighting was Michael, also falling off the bridge, but this time due to Percy’s actions.
Later, they had lost two more, consisting to the total of seven — how fitting — golden shrouds. Almost half of all of their dead.
From the second biggest cabin they were reduced to one that had almost the smallest amount of people. Some rational part of her argued that Kronos had probably deliberately put most of his monsters on them, because as much as Apollo kids were deadly with bows, they were terrible melee fighters. Lee was the only one of them who was ever any good with a sword, but he died last summer anyway. His siblings only knew the basics, some were even capable of using daggers in a fight, but against the hoard they faced their skills were simply laughable.
Their best strategy was keeping their distance and shooting every monster they could, but it was impossible with how many monsters they faced. Kronos knew that, knew that they were their worst suited cabin for fighting in that environment. They were an easy target.
That same rational part argued back, because if Kronos wanted an easy way in, why hadn’t he picked the Aphrodite Cabin? Children of Apollo were at least skilled with rage weapons and would cause him trouble until the monsters reached them. Children of Aphrodite didn’t have even that. Their best weapons were their charms and pretty words, usable when you wanted some angry nature spirit to let you cross by their tree, completely useless against monsters.
Then that rational part chirped in another point, the groteske rule of war that alongside kill the leader would almost guarantee you a victory in a long-term battle. Kill the healer. Even the least experienced Apollo kids were much more efficient healers than any other demigod and seeing how many campers had been saved by the remaining ones from various wounds throughout the whole battle, Clarisse could understand why Kronos would want as much of their cabin out of the picture as possible.
The irrational part of her told her that she had cursed them when she fished them dead. And seeing that there was no Michael Yew to shout in her face that any petty curses she could throw their way were too weak to have an impact on any of them only further proved that point. Her pride had blinded her, there was no saying how many of those sixteen deceased would still be alive had she allowed her cabin to fight from the very beginning. But there was also no saying how many more of those seven golden shrouds wouldn’t be needed had she not said those words.
And that stupid chariot. What good did it do her in the end? That she could get to the battlefront faster after she discovered her armour had disappeared? She wouldn’t have had to do that if she was there from the start. And that same stupid chariot could do wonders for Michael Yew and his siblings. If they had it on that equally stupid bridge, they could have the rage advantage they needed. An entire cabin could hardly fit into that chariot, but Michael alone with perhaps one or two of his siblings accompanying him would deal enough damage to ensure that the others weren’t in as grim position as they were in the actual fight.
But there was no point in thinking over that now. They were already dead and no matter how much Clarisse regretted that now, nothing would bring them back.
Casting one last glance at the shrouds she made a beeline for the room’s exit.
Only to be met by the face of no other than Will Solace.
He looked much worse than Clarisse had ever seen him. Gone was the child wonder he had in his eyes when he arrived at camp only two years ago and which had been slowly disappearing starting from the day Lee died. Instead, his eyes were glazed over and under them were dark bugs. He was pale, evidently so, even despite his ever present tan. There was a gaze on his left cheek, slightly dumped with blood, and all over his body there were other bandages and over his right foot was an elastic. He shouldn’t be walking on that leg, even with her little to no medical knowledge Clarisse knew that.
But she also knew that despite him being barely thirteen — he had his birthday in August, hadn’t he? — he was now both the oldest Apollo kid and the one who was at camp the longest, even despite his necklace only having two beads, awaiting for a third. If he wasn’t on and about someone else would have to be — presumably Austin or Stella, Kayla still was considered too young , even given the new Apollo Cabin circumstances — and just as any older brother would do, he refused to put that much work on their shoulders. Even if Clarisse knew that even little Kayla wasn’t entirely spared from the infirmary.
And that was the sad truth about the Apollo Cabin. When for most of them the war ended the moment the gods said so, children of Apollo started another one — against Thanatos, to ensure that the sixteen dead were not joined by any more. Last year, after the battle of Labyrinth, the cabin babies were spared that, both because they were too shaken by their brother’s recent death and because there were older siblings who could do that and there were much less wounded. But now, the cabin babies from last year were also the oldest and only members of their cabin.
Clarisse had to admit something to the Apollo Cabin, they followed the unspoken rule of protecting the young to the core, given that only the four youngest survived. But shit, the oldest of them was fucking thirteen now.
Will just glanced at her, half-acknowledging her presence. He was probably too exhausted to even be angry. Something shimmered in his hands, which caught Clarisse’s attention. He was holding golden drachmas.
Of course he was. Everyone who headed to Manhattan put one of those in their pocket, in case of an emergency . But there was no saying how many of those drachmas actually stayed in the pockets in the fervor of fighting. Even if the son of Hades, Nico di Angelo, who had promised to hold the funeral rites would probably make sure that everyone had one, Clarisse could understand the need to make sure by oneself. Both Silena and Victor had one when she checked, but if they didn’t, she’d probably go back to bring some herself.
She pushed the thought that for two of his brothers Will couldn't check any pockets, because there were no actual bodies to have them, further back into her mind. To no avail. Her mind was plagued by a vision of Michael standing across from Charon, Robin holding onto his arm for dear life, while the death ferryman was telling them with a slim smile that he couldn't carry them across Styx, because they needed payment.
Will limped towards the golden shrouds and Clarisse immediately turned to help him. He didn’t say anything, but accepted her offer nevertheless. That was good, Clarisse thought. Why he didn’t have any crutches with him, she didn’t know. He was the doctor here, maybe the leg wasn’t all that bad and his unsteadiness was mainly caused by his exhaustion. Still, she helped.
He glared at the shrouds not unlike her just mere minutes ago. One of his arms was hunched over Clarisse’s shoulder and the other was shaking. His lips were just a thin line and his already red and teared up eyes were even more glassy. Something in the way he held himself changed and Clarisse wondered if he’d fall to the ground if it wasn’t for her support.
He outstretched his hand to pull over the first shroud and examine the first body of one of his siblings. As much as Clarisse had stared at the golden shrouds and knew who was assisting everyone in the infirmary, so she knew who survived, she didn’t know under which shroud each particular child of Apollo lied. Except for Robin, the sheet covering just a few fingers and a foot was hard to mistake for anything else. She also knew that the neatly folded one covered all nothing of what was found of Michael Yew.
The ashen face of Amelia Hickey was revealed and Will broke dawn. Clarisse lowered him to the ground after deciding that it was pointless to try and support him anymore. He pulled more on the shroud, revealing more of Amelia’s body. It was full of smaller and bigger scratches, but nothing too severe. Nothing that would be a cause of death. She drowned , Clarisse remembered. Fell off the bridge and got lost in the East River’s currents. Not too lost, they still fished her out after the battle.
When Will pulled off the entire veil, he once again composed himself. He took one shaky breath and then another. He also dried off his nose on Clarisse’s shirt, but she didn’t care. She found that she needed to do something for him, even if it was just being a living tissue.
After another while, he pushed himself up on his hands and Clarisse gripped him tighter, taking most of his weight and helping him stand up. He still didn’t say anything, just silently accepted the gesture. She figured that were their roles reversed she probably wouldn’t want to talk too. Or no, more likely that she would shout into his face how much she despised him. Right now she wanted to do that to herself too and wanted him to also shout out all of his frustration at her. But he remained silent.
Will checked all of Amelia’s pockets and found a total of zero golden coins, so he took her palm and placed a drachma there. He closed her palm in a fist and gently put on her chest where the heart would be. Soon enough, her face was once again obscured by the golden shroud and Will was silently crying.
With no small amount of dread Clarisse realised that the drachma must had fallen out of her pocket when she fell or when her body was later swimming in the water. When she glanced over at Robin’s shroud she bitterly thought that there was at least one good side to being eaten, no place to lose your coin. The vision that had formed in her mind was replaced by Amelia looking at her newly acquired drachma, Xavier frantically checking out his pockets for any coins that might had appeared there out of a sudden and Michael just looking resignedly at Charon — who was still having that slim slime — as if the boy knew that he couldn't give him his payment .
“I hate you,” Will said out of a sudden, bringing Clarisse from her nightmarish vision. “I hate you.” He cried more and more with each word he spoke out loud and clenched his fist, just like he did with Amelia. “I hate you.”
“I know,” she answered truthfully, fully aware of the fact that there were no words that could describe the amount of self loathing she also felt towards herself. “I hate myself too.”
Will wailed even more. He still didn't push Clarisse away, but she was fully aware now that he accepted her help purely out of necessity. He pulled off another shroud, almost fell, but Clarisse just held him stronger and in the end, he didn’t. He checked Xavier's pockets and just like with Amelia, the coin must had had been lost in the waters, because soon Will was closing Xavier’s palm around one.
Clarisse glanced at the folded shroud. In her stupid nightmarish vision she could see Amelia and Xavier stepping onto a boat and Michael waving goodbye to them from the shore, unable to join. Clarisse might had never liked him very much, but eternity spent waiting for Charon to have mercy was never something she wished for him. For anyone for that matter.
Following her, Will also looked in that direction. “Was it worth it?” He asked and his voice was full of venom she had never heard in it before. Will was always one of the kindest and hardest to anger Apollo children. Compared to Michael, he was patient like an angel.
“Was what worth it?” She asked back, even if she had this tiniest feeling that she knew what he was talking about.
“Your pride. Your stupid pride and that stupid chariot !” Will was shouting and it made Clarisse notice just how rasp his voice was, no doubt from singing hymns to try and prevent people from slipping into Thanatos’ grasp. “Was it so hard to admit for once in your life that you were wrong?! Even after you got that stupid thing you had to prove that people would not be disrespecting you! Was it worth it? Was it worth Elvis getting speared through? Was it worth Robin being reduced to shreds? Was it worth Amelia and Xavier falling and drowning? Was it worth Michael-?” He didn’t finish, just broke down once again. Clarisse was unsure of what to say to that, of course it wasn’t worth it, she saw that now, but at the time she felt that her actions were justified. There was nothing she could say, especially after Will looked at the pink shroud instead and said, “was it worth Silena having to take your place?”
“It wasn’t,” she admitted quietly. Even if the curse she thought she had enforced on them wasn’t the reason that the Apollo Children died, if the Ares Cabin joined the war sooner, maybe they could still save some. As for Silena, her death was entirely Clarisse’s fault and there was no if’s about that. She killed her best friend. “I’m sorry.”
It didn’t change anything, they were still dead. It was pointless to even bother thinking about saying it. But it calmed Will a little. He probably was taken aback by her apology, because she never apologised.
“It’s my fault,” she continued on. “I know it means nothing, but I truly am sorry. For the chariot, for slacking off, for not fighting, everything.”
“You’re right, it means nothing,” Will admitted. He looked around the room, deliberately avoiding looking at her. It pained her, for whatever reason. She was never good with emotions and heavily relied on Silena for any advice on that matter. But the Aphrodite girl couldn't help her anymore and guess whose fault was that?
So she didn’t say anything else, just silently helped Will check his other siblings. They all still had the golden drachmas, so there was no need to give them new ones. Despite that, Will always took the coins from their pockets, placed them in his sibling’s palms and lied carefully above their hearts, for whatever reason. It really didn’t matter where they stashed their fee as long as they had it.
“Michael did that to Lee when he died,” Will explained — even though Clarisse didn’t ask out loud — after they moved onto the bodiless shrouds where there were no hands to give coins to. “I don’t know why. He just did.”
Lee Fletcher was the closest son of Apollo to Clarisse ever in existence. They were friends. Not the closest of friends, but she helped him with his sword training. At Camp Half-Blood younger kids usually learnt from their older siblings, but all of Lee’s older siblings were even worse at sword fighting than him. Somehow the boy had gotten it into his head that knowing how to use a sword effectively would be good, so he asked Luke for help. Needless to say, after that one disastrous summer he was in need of a new trainer and that was when Clarisse stepped in.
He got guts, asking her for help, when her reputation at camp was far from great. But he knew how to bargain and when you siblings would constantly cause each other life threatening injuries it was good to have a healer close by. Even if it meant sparring with the healer every now and then and giving him advice on new techniques.
And she was forever indebted to him, because when she asked for help with Chris, he did so. No question asked, he helped nurse the boy — her boyfriend — back to health. It was a debt she couldn't repay for obvious reasons. Lee was dead.
She wondered what would have happened if he was still alive? Lee was far less temperamental than Michael, but only Clarisse could ever hold a candle to that short bastard. No matter their friendship, the fight over the stupid chariot would probably still happen, but maybe Clarisse would feel more remorse before cursing him.
And how would he react to her cursing his siblings? Her being the passive cause of their death, or at least taking a small part in it? He was in Elysium, would he curse her back when he saw the flood of his siblings going there?
“Lee was a sucker for sentimental things like that, having your last treasure from the living world close to your heart and stuff,” she said. He had given her a friendship bracelet at age seventeen, for gods’ sake. That was just his style. “He’d appreciate it.”
Will just nodded and shoved one coin under Robin’s shroud, not even daring to unfold it and reveal all that remained of the boy. Clarisse was thankful for that, she had seen her fair share of disembodied limbs, but there was something sickening about seeing those particular ones. The bumps under the material were enough.
All that was left now was Michael’s shroud.
They both looked at it in silence. Will took all his remaining drachmas and placed them neatly between the folds of the material. To pass the river Styx you only needed one. Even less than that, you needed an obol and it was worth less than a drachma. Maybe Will wanted to increase the chances of one of the coins actually finding its way to Michael. Clarisse didn’t have the heart to tell him that it didn’t work that way and probably none of them would appear in his older brother’s ghost pocket.
Will was still sniffling and ineffectively holding back tears after they finished, but Clarisse still had the same indifferent look on her face. She would prefer itif she could react in any way, but she had used up all of her tears after Silena died. There were none left.
“I’m sorry, once again,” she said just as Will turned to head out of the room. “Even though it’s pointless.”
“It really is,” he confirmed and broke out of her hold. He limped to the door, but stopped before opening them. “But- you didn’t really kill them. I hate you, I-“ He clenched his fist on the wall and hit it. “I’m just as much at blame as you. Even more so, I was there, I should- I wasn’t able to heal them- I- I-“ He punched the wall once more. “I hate us both.”
And with that he limped out, Clarisse didn’t try to follow him. As much as she wanted to do something, she knew there was nothing she could do that would really help. She hated being so helpless.
“You were right,” she said to the folded shroud. “I truly am just a coward and a disgusting piece of shit.”
It didn’t answer, but what was she expecting, really? That Michael would suddenly appear and confirm her words with his stupid ferrety grin all over his face? He was dead . Silena was dead , Victor was dead . Robin, Amelia, Xavier- and all the others were dead . Because of her, at least partially.
She desperately wanted to atone for her sins. But with no Silena to guide her, she was truly helpless. The Aphrodite girl was better at that, but she was dead. And it was all Clarisse’s fault.
She owed something to those people she let down. She had already made sure that the Aphrodite Cabin was somewhat holding itself together. Drew Tanaka had proclaimed herself the new head counsellor and no one was opposed to that and Clarisse could only hope that the girl would do at least half as good as Silena.
But there was one more cabin that she needed to look after, she came to realise. As much as Will shouted in her face that he hated her, he still accepted her help and maybe that would be enough. She could make sure he didn’t work himself to death in the infirmary. She owed that to that short bastard, to all the other Apollo kids, to Lee… but she didn’t really know where to start.
No, that wasn’t true, she knew what the first step should be, knew what Silena would do were she still here.
“I’m giving them that stupid thing back,” she told the golden shroud and turned to the pink one. “You would do that, wouldn’t you, Silena?”
But there was no answer.
And Clarisse realised, unsure if thankful for it or terrified, that a single tear had fallen down her cheek.
Human bodies can really always find new tears.