A/N: Got the idea for this while rereading the "interview" portion of the Demigod Files as well as listening to "Are you Happy Now?" By Megan & Liz. Also, this is NOT Michael/Clarisse.

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO-HoO

"Someday, mark my words, I'm going to pulverize Michael Yew and his whole wimpy cabin"- Clarisse La Rue, The Demigod Files, page 67

Clarisse stayed by the side of her best friend's corpse and shroud the whole time they burnt them. They'd burned them by cabin, not necessarily by cabin number. She didn't cry. She never did before- at least, not anytime that she actually remembered. So when they burned Silena, the silent tears that dripped from her face came as a shock to everyone. But the real surprise wasn't even noticed by many. Everyone had expected many tears for Silena, even a few from her. None expected what she'd do after.

Cabin 7 had either returned to their cabin to mourn the loss of their siblings with each other or had moved to other fatalities to say their goodbyes to old friends one last time. It was an unusual sight to see the Apollo cabin so… dark. But with the heavy losses, you couldn't blame them. No one was there to see Clarisse place the violet hyacinth on the ashes of Michael Yew. No one was there to see the silent regret. She had never taken any interest in him that way. But can't a girl regret what she'd said? She wasn't heartless.

That night, Chris had found his girlfriend sitting alone by the stream, dried tears streaking her face. She was staring into space, a gesture he'd seen everyone do today. She was thinking of them. He wasn't really used to comforting someone, so he just sat there, beside her, waiting for her. He'd apologize later for not knowing what to do. Little did he know that sometimes the best thing you could do for someone is to just be near them.

They sat there until sunrise, which wasn't really that far away since the time he'd found her. She'd muttered a prayer to Apollo in ancient Greek, apologizing. He didn't know what for. She had also started a small fire and thrown small pieces of a purple flower in it (He assumed that she had asked a Demeter kid what they meant). With each piece she'd said a name. He recognized a few, some were her victims of initiation, and some were those she'd threatened. The war had taken a toll on them. Clarisse was a heroine, but she'd had her own ghosts. To them, whatever Clarisse had done was just dismissed as a rude remark or an Ares thing. But she'd relived every single one that night, knowing that she never truly made it right.