i hope i die first ('cause i don't wanna live without you)
for @sapphic-summer-riordanverse week 1 -> scars
âYou should take off your shirt for that,â Silena speaks softly, blue eyes fixated on the big spot of blood coming out from Clarisseâs side and dampening her shirt.
âIâll deal with it later, pretty thing,â she replies with gritted teeth. It isnât often, but some Fridays, the Apollo kids will ask for volunteers to help them run the infirmary after Capture the Flag. Today is Friday âone of those Fridaysâ and Clarisseâs cabin just lost the flag to fuckass Cabin 7 Â and now she has Silena Beauregard of all people coming up to her with a first aid kit in hand. âI did a number on Yew back there, you can go see if he needs help.â
âWell, I did.â Silena smiles at her, talking with a tone that makes it clear Clarisse is not gonna be able to get rid of her that easily. âHeâs got his siblings with him. You did do a number on him.â
Did I look good doing it? Clarisse refrains herself before she can ask, because she knows Silena and her are only friends and she knows itâs not Silenaâs fault that her mind is blurring the line. Plus, thereâs a high chance Silena, nice and impressionable (or at least always impressed by whatever Clarisse does) will tell her that yes, she looked really good uppercutting Michael Yew, and then she will have to go back to her cabin and think about Silena, nice and pretty and soft-spoken, telling her she looked good, and⊠And she canât have that. That, and the fact Silena is right about her massive wound on the side and Clarisse probably should go home and stitch it.
âHeâll live,â she ends up replying.Â
âOh, Iâm sure! Not so sure about you surviving that cut.â
âIâve gotten so much worse than this.â Itâs true, and she can see in the way the girlâs features soften that she is not making Silena any less worried. Clarisse takes a deep breath, turning to her and trying to invoke the voice she uses to tell her youngest siblings that they are gonna survive the paper cuts they got while reading. âLook, I can take care of it when I get to my cabin, promise. You should check someone else who needs actual help.â
âBut I donât think anyoneâs bleeding as muchâŠâ
âHave you checked Mason? Saw him get an ugly hit earlier.â
âHeâs all fixed up,â Silena tells her. She is looking at her sternly and Clarisse hates how good it looks on her, just like she hates that Silena is taller, just like she hates that thereâs no way sheâs getting her off. Just like how she hates that she is losing too much blood, enough for her sight to blur and get spotty and her knees to buckle. Silena catches her before she can fall.
âShirt up, now. You need stitches.â
âYouâre bleeding out.â
She canât deny it. Silena is right about the stitches, and she no longer feels like she can do it herself. Clarisse bites the inside of her mouth and looks up, hating how pathetic her voice feels when it leaves her mouth: âNot here?â
For a second, sheâs afraid Silena is gonna take her as she trying to avoid the stitches further and deny her, but it doesnât happen. Instead, Silena takes her hand (and she already knew this, but her hands are always so soft it never fails to amuse her) and walks her to the closest big rock, where no one can see, fast enough so Clarisse doesnât lose too much blood while slowly enough for her not to faint with the effort. She still drops down against the rock as soon as she can.
Silena kneels beside her, popping her first aid kit open and getting everything she needs ready.
âCan you lift your shirt up, now?â Her voice is softer this time around. Clarisse looks away, ashamed, and makes no effort to lift it other than grabbing at the hem.
âI, uh⊠If itâs about your body or something, I know everyone assumes the Aphrodite kids are judgemental and superficial, but, really, thatâs pretty much everything we go against and we would never judge someoneâs body andâŠâ
Clarisse looks up, wanting to ask her to promise and talking herself into not to. Sheâs almost an adult now and ready to go to war in some months, which is definitely too old and too mature to ask her to promise anything silly like that. She needs to woman up, she tells herself before lifting her shirt up all at once and having Silena take a look at the wound.
Thereâs a gasp, which she futilely hopes is about the cut Annabeth gave her while she was sprinting for their flag and not for the horrible scars all around her tummy. She hears Silena swallow and can only imagine how horrible the view is now that itâs bloody all over in addition to the usual burnt skin. She waits for the question. Thereâs no question.
âTell me if it gets too muchâ is the only thing Silena says. Soft, and quiet, and non-judgemental, right before she feels the cut burning at the contact of a disinfecting cotton. Clarisse grits her teeth to suppress a groan. It hurts like hell, and it seems like itâs never gonna end. Eventually, though, it does. âGood girl.â
Silenaâs words make her want to unclench her jaw and teeth just to gasp with surprise. The moment of respite she gets between Silena putting the cotton away and threading the needle is spent replaying it on her mind. Fuck, she thinks, thatâs way worse than being told she looked good. She wants to run away for a moment, just to prevent herself from hearing any other words for Silena that could send her spiraling for the next week. Itâs not Silenaâs fault she likes girls. Itâs not Silenaâs fault she likes her.Â
But, clearly, she canât run. Sheâs stuck there, being stitched back up by the same soft hands that haunt her everyday âand her viewâs spotty and blurry, but Clarisse is sure that Silena is wearing that one ugly as fuck friendship bracelet she did for her when the Aphrodite kids forced her to join their bracelet workshopâ. She can barely feel anything in that area, except for the pain of the cut, but she can imagine how soft the touch would be.
âYou can ask,â she ends up telling her. Not because she wants her to, necessarily, but because she needs to focus on anything other than her beauty, and her kindness, and her softness, and⊠âIf you want to, you can ask.â
âIt doesnât hurt when I touch it, right?â Silena asks, almost shyly. Clarisse shakes her head no. âThatâs good. I didnât want to hurt you.â
âWhen have you ever hurt anyone?â Clarisse scoffs. Silena doesnât reply. A quick look in her direction shows her a bitter expression, as if the girl could give a big list of victims. Clarisse doubts thatâs the case. âDonât look at me like that, you know itâs true.â
Silena looks away from her. This time, she asks the long question, almost as if she was copying Clarisse on her distracting topic strategy.
âHowâd you get it?â she asks. âThe burnt scar, howâŠ?â
âMy quest to the Sea of Monsters. My ship exploded and I got hit with some really hot iron.âÂ
âDid you not take anythingâŠ?âÂ
âAmbrosia supplies exploded with the ship, soâŠâ
âHow did youâŠ? How could you survive that?â
Clarisse just shrugs. She doesnât really know, doesnât really remember how it happened. She has always assumed her father helped her while she was too in pain to notice.
âI couldnât die on my first quest,â she tries to joke, attempting to make it look easier than it was. âCould you imagine it? Dying out there in an explosion at sea and having Percy out of all people come back with the news? PfftâŠâ
âDonât joke about that, itâsâŠâ Silena takes a deep breath as she presses the needle against her skin. âItâs too close.â
âI wonât, I wonât,â Clarisse promises. She knows what she means. Princess Andromeda is still there somewhere and she knows itâs a matter of time before they have Percy hijack it with someone else. She hopes itâs no one they know. She looks up to Silena, whose blue eyes are focused on the task at hand. The stitches hurt, but sheâs somehow better at handling that. âYouâre not scared, are you?â
âOf the war?â Clarisse nods. âOf course I am!â Her voice breaks, and Clarisse regrets asking. âWho wouldnât be?â Before she can apologize, Silena scoffs and speaks again. âIt makes sense you arenât, I guess. Youâre a natural at fighting, and have so much experience already. Iâm terrified, though. I donât wantâŠâ
She stops stitching for a moment. Her eyes are shiny, not in the way they are when they see each other during breakfast, not in the way they are when the bonfire from the evenings is reflecting on them. The bad kind of shiny.
âI just donât want anything to happen to you,â she speaks abruptly before resuming stitching, faster this time, as if getting it over with the wound would make the conversation end quicker. She rectifies soon, though. âOr, or to Charlie. Or to my siblings, and, you know, everyone, butâŠâ Sheâs so close to crying that Clarisse can only hate herself for bringing it up. âI would hate it so much if something happened to you and I came back safe and had to live with it. To live without you.â
Clarisse canât help it when she reaches out a hand to cup her cheek. Sheâs never touched her like that, and for a moment she thinks of putting her hand away and pretend it was a spasm, but Silena leans into the touch and she just canât help it. She gulps, unsure of what to do now other than talk herself down for being like this.Â
âThat wonât happen,â she promises. âI swear on the Styx.â
âYou canât do thatâŠâ Silena tries to say. Itâs barely audible over the thunder in the back, binding the oath.
âToo late.â Clarisse smiles at her, hoping itâs convincing. Silena manages to smile back.Â
