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He can’t bear being in the cabin right now. Can’t bear the silence.
Sure, Kayla and Austin make some noise, but it’s nothing like before. Nothing can ever make it go back to before.
Will stares at his hands, watches the way his fingers tremble, feeling the anxiety thrumming under his skin.
He can still hear Lee’s voice in his head.
Name five things you can see, Will.
“The desk.” He whispers out loud from his spot on the floor, head leaning against the file cabinet. “One of Dad’s banners. Kayla’s pink pen. Michael’s–” He cuts himself off, wincing inwardly.
Michael.
Oh, how he had failed his brother. He couldn’t save him. Every time Will closes his eyes, he can see his brother falling to his death off that bridge. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, taking a few quick, shallow breaths.
Name four things you can touch, Will.
“The carpet of the office.” He grits out. “My camp shirt. Scrub pants. My camp necklace.”
This isn’t helping whatsoever. There’s still something ugly clawing its way up his throat, threatening to spill out and over.
Name three things you can hear, sunbaby.
“The ticking of the clock. Voices from the infirmary.” He says. “Clarisse…” He stops, sitting up a bit. What is she doing here? She’s almost never at the infirmary, and the few Ares campers that he had been treated had all gone back to their cabin earlier that morning. There’s no reason that the older girl should be here. Unless…
“Solace, I know you’re in there. Can I come in?” Her voice is gruff, but she sounds different. Softer… almost. It reminds Will of one of his older sisters, the way she used to sing Will to sleep when he was having a nightmare. If he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend he didn’t see the spear impaling her body during the battle.
“Yes.” He says after a minute, his voice barely loud enough for her to hear, but the way that the doorknob turns, he knows that she heard him.
The light that filters into the room from the infirmary when she steps through the door makes him squint. The older camper looks around, face contorting in confusion until she spots him on the floor. Clarisse blinks once, twice, like she’s baffled by something that she is seeing in front of her.
“Is that blood?”
Ah.
He nods stiffly, remembering what had sent him into a panic in the first place. A gaping wound, a gasping patient. Nothing he hadn’t seen before, but the battle had only been yesterday. Just yesterday… all of his siblings had died.
Clarisse sighs, grabbing a package from off the desk, which Will realizes suddenly is a pack of disinfecting wipes, and she sits down on the floor in front of him. She yanks one, two, three of the wipes out, and starts roughly rubbing at his hands.
“You’re gonna get all sorts of stained if you don’t clean the blood, you know.” She chastises, her voice gruff. Will just nods, but he doesn’t feel entirely in his body right now. All he has the energy to do is watch her clean the red off his hands.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers, and Clarisse shakes her head, scooting a bit closer so she can get the blood off his face, her movements slightly more gentle as she wipes at his cheek.
“What are you apologizing for, especially to me.” She says blankly, and Will just shrugs his shoulders.
“I’m not good enough.” He says, and Clarisse stops, raising an eyebrow.
“What makes you say that?” She bites, and Will shakes his head.
“It’s just true. I couldn’t save anyone.” He says, and Clarisse snorts.
“Did Annabeth just cure herself from poison?” She says dryly, and Will tucks his chin into his arms.
“You know what I meant.” He mutters, and Clarisse chuckles.
“I know what you think you were saying, but it’s just not true.” She says, standing up to throw the bloodied wipes away. “You helped with Chris too.”
“That was Michael.” He says, his voice breaking once he says his brother’s name out loud.
“I mean, sure Michael was in charge, but you still helped a lot.” Clarisse says. Will doesn’t think so, but he’s too tired to fight with her about it. Plus, she’s a lot older and scarier than him. He just leans his head back against the file cabinet again, closing his eyes.
The silence is almost deafening again. Will can feel the panic rising in his throat, feeling the walls closing in on him, stifling and overbearing.
“This shouldn’t have fallen on you Will. I’m sorry.” She says after a minute, and Will shakes his head.
“There’s no one else.” He says, and the heavy words linger in between them.
It’s the truth. Will is the oldest. Every single one of his siblings that was older than him… Will had seen their bodies under a golden fabric, watched the smoke curl into the air at the pyre. Held the hands of his younger siblings even though he’s only two years older than him.
“You’ll be fine, Will. I promise.” Clarisse says, and Will shrugs his shoulders. He can’t help but not really believe her. “Annabeth became head counselor younger than you did.”
“Annabeth is insane.” He bites back, and Clarisse barks out a startled laugh.
“I mean sure. But she was also what, eleven? You’re thirteen, and you’ve been here for what, four years?”
“Three ish. It’s complicated.” Will says, playing with the beads on his necklace.
“And you’ve been healing the entire time.” Clarisse says, and Will nods. He knows that he has the healing talent, but healing some kids in the infirmary and being head of a cabin is something else entirely.
He can’t be IN CHARGE of Kayla and Austin. He’s barely just turned thirteen. He can barely take care of himself!
“It was scary for me at first too.” Clarisse admits, and Will looks at her with wide eyes. “Becoming head counselor. My older brother, Damon, died from a monster attack. He did something fucking stupid, for the glory of it all, and got himself killed. I was about the age that you are now when I became head counselor too.” Clarisse says, worrying a piece of her frayed camp shirt between her fingers.
“How did you deal with it?” Will says, and Clarisse hums.
“I suppose I just… didn’t. I just took it on like it was something I had to do, because I did. I was the oldest and the most experienced. I didn’t want to leave it to the younger kids since it would have been too much for them.” Clarisse admits, and Will nods.
“I can’t leave it to Austin or Kayla. They’re too little. They don’t understand, they wouldn’t be able to handle it. But it hurts, Clarisse. Gods, it hurts every time I see something of my siblings. Every time I wake up in the morning to silence where normally there would be chatter.” Will says, leaning his head against his arms again.
“You have to go on, because you have the kids looking up to you now Will.” Clarisse says, and there’s something Will can’t get a read on in her eyes. An emotion that he’s never seen Clarisse have before. “And with the promise that the gods made… you have to be strong for the ones that will be coming too. I can’t imagine your dad NOT having more demigod kids out there.” There’s a bit of teasing in her voice that makes a bit of a smile tug up the corners of Will’s lips, and Clarisse reaches out to pat the top of his head, ruffling his curls a bit. “You’ll do just fine, Solace.”
“Thank you, Clarisse.” He says softly. “I didn’t really know that we were friends like this, I’m not gonna lie.” Clarisse just laughs, shaking her head.
“Now, who the hell said we were friends, Solace?” She says, standing up. There’s a soft knock on the door, and Will startles, scrambling to her feet.
“Will?” A young voice comes through, and Will sighs. Kayla. “Nico’s here for something, I dunno what. He doesn’t talk to me.”
“I’m coming, Kayls. Just give me a min’, I promise.” He calls back, and her footsteps fall away lightly. He can feel his shoulders rising in anxiety again.
Clarisse puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes lightly. “Like I said, Will. You’ll do just fine.”
The unexpected warmth of the conversation with Clarisse carries him through the rest of the day, even if his anxieties come back by the end of the night.
He can get through it. He has to.
For Kayla. For Austin.
For Cabin 7.