CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

₊˚࿐࿔ 𖥧‧₊⚘ ❀༉. 𓏲｡

"What were you two thinking?" Clarisse cradled Silena's head in her lap, but she stared at Mickey.

Phoenix had frantically run over to Mickey, desperate to comfort her and miserable to see her in so much pain. Now it was Phoenix who held Mickey while Sylvie just grasped her hand.

"They w-wouldn't listen otherwise—Your—The cabin would only follow you," Mickey cried. Then, "Silena, please. You're fine. S-stop."

"It's... okay. I had... to."

"You stole my armor," Clarisse said in disbelief. "You waited until Chris and I went out on patrol; you stole my armor and pretended to be me and got Mickey to follow you so the rest of my siblings would." She glared at the other Ares campers. "And NONE of you noticed?"

The Ares campers developed a sudden interest in their combat boots. Phoenix just wrapped Mickey in his arms.

"Don't blame them," Silena said. "They wanted to... to believe I was you."

"You stupid Aphrodite girl," Clarisse sobbed. "You charged a drakon? Why?"

"All my fault," Silena said, a tear streaking the side of her face. "The drakon, Charlie's death... camp endangered—"

"Stop it!" Mickey sobbed. "Silena, stop! Don't leave me like this!"

"You're... okay," Silena whispered. "You're gonna be. You've got... Phoenix, and... the cabin has... you."

Mickey shook her head adamantly. "I—I can't! I can't take care of them. I need you. You're my big sister, you're... You're the best person I know."

"I'm bad, Mick," she choked out on a sob.

"That's not t-true!" Mickey cried. Sylvie squeezed her hand tighter and Phoenix's hands rubbed up and down and up and down.

Silena opened her hand. In her palm was a silver bracelet with a scythe charm, the mark of Kronos.

A cold fist closed around Sylvie's heart. Suddenly the slice down her face felt deeper, her blood more real. "You were the spy."

Silena tried to nod. "You know, Sylvie... I hated Eurydice first. Before... before I liked Charlie, Luke was nice to me. I know he had... her, but he was so... charming. Handsome. Later, I wanted to stop helping him, but he threatened to tell. He promised... he promised I was saving lives. Fewer people would get hurt. He told me he wouldn't hurt... Charlie. He lied to me."

Sylvie met Annabeth's eyes. Her face was chalky. She looked like somebody had just yanked the world out from under her feet.

Behind them, the battle raged.

Clarisse scowled at her cabinmates. "Go, help the centaurs. Protect the doors. GO!"

All but Phoenix scrambled off to join the fight.

Silena took a heavy, painful breath. "Forgive me."

"You're not dying," Clarisse insisted.

"Charlie..." Silena's eyes were a million miles away. "See Charlie..."

Mickey curled back out of Phoenix's chest with a miserable face. "No," she whispered. "No."

But Silena didn't speak again.

"No, Silena, wake up!" Mickey screamed desperately. She looked like she was about the throw herself at Silena's corpse, but Clarisse was already holding Silena and weeping. Chris had a hand on Clarisse's shoulder. "Why—Why are you all acting like she's dead?! She's my big sister, she's not..."

"Mickey, c'mon," Phoenix whispered. He got his hold back on Mickey and pulled her into him again. One hand rubbed her back and the other threaded through her hair.

"She can't be!" Mickey wailed. She was thrashing desperately to try and wake Silena up, but Pheonix knew that would only hurt Mickey worse. He kept embracing her, despite Mickey's protests. "Fucking STOP! Let me g-go—let me help her!"

Sylvie couldn't stand to watch this, not in the slightest, but she didn't know what else to do. She felt frozen with grief, blood smearing out of the gauging cut down her face. She hadn't even realized her anxious habit had been out to play—running her thumb along the edge of her fingerless glove—until Percy threaded his fingers into her right hand and set their shared grip in his lap. Sylvie didn't even look at him. Her gaze was stuck on Mickey.

"Please, please," Mickey begged into Phoenix's chest. The son of Ares had never looked so vulnerable and broken—his face was screwed up like he was physically in pain. His eyes hadn't opened since he started holding Mickey again, and Sylvie had a feeling it was so they couldn't see him cry. "Phee, please, she's gone. I need—I need her!"

"I know, baby," he whispered, still caressing her as comfortingly as possible. Sylvie had never seen him so soft. Somehow, that made her feel a million times more emotional about this whole scene. "I know, I know, I know."

Mickey's cries were painful to hear, but seemingly impossible to stop. The small group around Silena was further struck in their grief by her younger half-sister's reaction. Mickey was hyperventilating so hard that no air was getting in.

"Mick, you gotta breathe, okay?" Phoenix tried. "Please, baby, you're gonna pass out."

The weeping only continued into his chest.

Sylvie waited for Mickey to start breathing until she couldn't stand it anymore. She desperately reached forward and held Mickey's hand again. She pulled Mickey away from Phoenix so that Mickey was forced to look at her.

"Hey," Sylvie's voice was brittle. "We have to fight, Mickey."

Mickey let out a shuddering breath, but it was still a breath, and she wasn't thrashing anymore. It was hard to stare into her blood-shot, watery eyes, but Sylvie had to do it.

"Silena gave her life to help us. We have to honor her."

Clarisse sniffled and wiped her nose. But she finally gathered the courage to close Silena's eyes. It finally settled on Mickey and Clarisse that Silena was well and truly dead. Gone and forever young.

"I—" Mickey looked helplessly to Phoenix, then back at Sylvie. "O-Okay. For Silena. Okay."

Sylvie forced herself to smile at her, and Pheonix ran his fingers through her hair proudly. "There you go, Mick," he encouraged. "You got it."

Clarisse looked at everyone else. "Silena was a hero, understand? A hero."

Percy nodded. "Come on, Clarisse."

She picked up a sword from one of her fallen siblings. "Kronos is going to pay."

╰━━━ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀◦ ━━━╯

Sylvie would like to say she at least helped drive the enemy away from the Empire State Building. The truth was Clarisse did all the work. Even without her armor or spear, she was a demon. She rode her chariot straight into the Titan's army and crushed everything in her path.

She was so inspiring even the panicked centaurs started to rally. The Hunters scrounged arrows from the fallen and launched volley after volley into the enemy. The Ares cabin slashed and hacked, which was their favorite thing. The monsters retreated toward 35th Street.

Clarisse drove to the drakon's carcass and looped a grappling line through its eyes sockets. She lashed her horses and took off, dragging the drakon behind the chariot like a Chinese New Year dragon. She charged after the enemy, yelling insults and daring them to cross her. As she rode, Sylvie realized she was literally glowing. An aura of red fire flickered around her.

"The blessing of Ares," Thalia said. "I've never seen it in person before."

For the moment, Clarisse was as invincible as Percy was. The enemy threw spears and arrows, but nothing hit her.

"I AM CLARISSE, DRAKON-SLAYER!" she yelled. "I will kill you ALL! Where is Kronos? Bring him out! Is he a coward?"

"Clarisse!" Percy yelled. "Stop it. Withdraw!"

"What's the matter, Titan lord?" she yelled. "BRING IT ON!"

There was no answer from the enemy, but Clarisse wasn't the biggest fan of that. She kept driving in circles around Fifth Avenue, daring anyone to cross her path. The two-hundred-foot-long drakon carcass made a hollow scraping noise against the pavement, like a thousand knives.

At some point, Sylvie had gotten separated from Percy, Annabeth, and the rest of her friends. They were trying to fight the monsters that were too scared to face Clarisse, but too spirited to back down from the fight. There was more than Sylvie expected, but she wasn't that worried, because she figured Clarisse would get to them soon enough.

Sylvie's face throbbed as she fought, and her right arm weighed on her. Her whole body ached in pain, but she couldn't stop. She promised Mickey that they would fight for Silena—After how broken Mickey was, Sylvie refused to go against that promise.

Sylvie got caught up with three telkhines that had come and attacked her all at once. But she'd been so on edge recently that it barely phased her. It didn't even matter that she was without a shield.

Sylvie chucked Halcyon and Cereal at the two telkhines on either side of the line that the monsters created. Quickly, they vaporized into nothing.

Just as Sylvie let out a huff of relief, the telkhine in the middle was lunging forward and tackling her to the ground. Sylvie groaned as her head hit the pavement.

"You forgot about me," the telkhine hissed.

"Did I?" Sylvie mumbled.

She tilted her head to the side, and from where her skull had once been, a vicious vine sprouted up. The telkhine didn't even have time to react as the plant drove straight through its own head. The vine wasn't celestial bronze, of course, but it was a wound horrible enough for the monster to combust into dust that covered Sylvie. She grimaced in disgust.

It all went a little downhill from there.

As Sylvie got up to head back into the fray, she heard an awful scream rise in a too-familiar voice from half a block up, right on the edge of the retreating enemy lines. Any thought of what had just happened fled from Sylvie's mind as she turned to see Florian lying on the ground, trying desperately to fight off two dracaenae as they clawed at him.

Florian wasn't supposed to be here. Sylvie specifically told him to stay behind. He wasn't supposed to be here.

Despite her confusion, Sylvie ran towards the dracaenae. Thorn vines grew at her sides again, but this time, wrapped around both snake women before she even knew what she was doing. The demons disintegrated, leaving just Sylvie standing over Florian where he lay on the ground, gasping for breath while blood poured from his body.

It was bad. It was bad. It was way too horribly bad that bile rose to Sylvie's throat in an instant. Florian's stomach was torn open too many ways. It shouldn't even be torn open at all. He was bleeding out at a rate that not even Apollo himself could stop.

Sylvie couldn't help it, she bent over to the side and vomited on the pavement. She wiped the sickness off her face with the back of her hand, sliding across her face scar in a way that had Sylvie's cries of pain mingling with Florian's.

She fell to her knees next to him, hastily trying to think of all the first aid lessons camp had taught her.

As soon as Sylvie got close to Florian she knew it wasn't just bad. There was too much blood, and too much else was compromised with it. This wasn't going to be possible. Not before—

"It's alright, Eurydice," Florian whispered to the sister he thought was still somehow listening, somewhere. His eyes were unfocused. "You won't have to hurt me again. It's over. You're never going to hurt me again."

(Florian thought Eurydice's hands must have trembled a bit, but it could have been his own vision failing, or a trick of the dying light.)

"It's alright," Florian repeated softly, believing it with everything he had left in him. "It's not your fault, Eury."

"No," Sylvie said, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's Sylvie."

"Eury, I—"

"It's Sylvie," she repeated a little louder. Florian blinked.

"Sylvie." He managed to focus on her face. "You know, you—you're so similar to how she... was. B-before."

"I know," said Sylvie, "I remember."

"Just like her, when we were kids—" he took a long breath that sounded painful. "Oh, Sylv, you're just a kid. I'm so sorry."

"Don't," Sylvie told him sorry. "Don't be sorry. You're going to be fine. We can heal this. W-Will can do it, or—even Cedar."

Sylvie had to get him healed. Sylvie had to make sure everything would be fine. She had to, because this was her big brother. This was the first person she'd ever gotten closest with. This was the half-sibling that had become Sylvie's genuine sibling, inside and outside of camp. This was the guy that snored all night while sleeping, noises that Sylvie had begun to search for after a nightmare. This was the Demeter kid who could be mistaken for an Apollo kid. This was the one who worked at his dad's flower shop when he wasn't at camp.

This was Florian, the brother who Sylvie pretended to fight with because she loved him so much that it was scary. Now he just gazed up at her with tears in his eyes.

"I may not actually be an Apollo kid, but," he trailed off hoarsely, "I know that's not true."

Sylvie shook her head. "It has to be," but her voice cracked.

It has to be. It has to be. It has to—

"Sylvie, I'm so—I'm so sorry," said Florian. His voice caught. His tears overflowed. "I'm sorry I didn't stay back on Olympus. I wanted to—protect you. And I'm sorry we fought. All the t-time. I didn't mean to be a jerk. I loved you, really. You were my favorite... favorite sibling."

Sylvie's throat caught, too. She felt like she was going to vomit again.

"You're not a jerk," Sylvie insisted, body shaking with the ferocity it took not to break down right now. "You're.... You're my big brother. You're my favorite, too—I forgive you, just—Florian, please."

Silena, please.

Staring down at Florian, Sylvie realized something for the first time—he was her older sibling, sure. And he was the one who made sure everyone was laughing in the cabin, but he wasn't so much older than Sylvie. Florian was barely eighteen. They'd just celebrated his birthday in July. He was so, so young.

"I can't help it," Florian's voice cracked, even if he was whispering to try and prevent it from happening. "But I don't—I don't want to die. Sylvie, I don't want to die. I don't want to."

Sylvie's vision was blurring, but she could make out a mass of open guts spilled on the street below her.

"Call me Henriette," Sylvie begged.

Florian was going in out and out of it. "What?" he said blankly.

"Don't die," she pleaded. "Don't die, and call me Henriette. Like we're kids again."

"We haven't acted like kids in—" he took a harsh, rasping breath, "in a long time." Florian closed his eyes for a second. "I can act like a kid with... Castor, though. I'm finally going to see him again. Soon. I'd rather it happen where he... At camp. But—I'm not going back there."

"I'll get you back there." Sylvie shook her head. She swallowed hard against more tears of her own. She wasn't going to cry. There wasn't time.

She was pretty sure Florian showed her a smile, but it was so weak and shaky that it didn't last. Nothing lasted in Sylvie's life. Not smiles, not family members. Nothing.

"You're too good for this world, you know that?"

"You can't die, Florian," Sylvie's words shook with her trembling body. "We need you."

I need you.

"It's you they need, Sylvie," Florian choked. "It's you I've needed. It's been that way for... a while."

"Shut up," she demanded. "Sh-Shut up, you... you idiot. Don't say that. Please don't say that."

"I'm sorry," Florian said again. "I'm sorry—but, you're gonna be fine, Henriette." Sylvie wanted to sob. Was this the last ever time she would hear that nickname from him? "It's all you now. You'll do great. You'll go far."

Sylvie wanted to protest again, even though the reality of it all was starting to weave together in her brain like a taunting reminder—Sylvie Duvall didn't get to have family that stayed. What a foolish assumption.

There was too much blood that Sylvie couldn't do anything about it anymore. Florian fumbled for her hand, gripping her fingers over top of where she was trying to keep pressure on the worst of the wounds.

"This is mean," Sylvie whispered. Florian nodded.

She got her wish. Sylvie felt like a kid again. But this wasn't what she'd meant. Not in the slightest. This had reduced her back to what she was at her first days of camp. This had Sylvie using playground words like mean. This was the most horrible outcome Sylvie could think of.

"FLORIAN, NO!" someone screamed, and then Katie was here.

Apparently no one listened to her order of staying on Olympus, and Sylvie wished more than anything that they had. Katie skidded to a halt on her knees next to Sylvie. Miranda ran up just as fast, while Cedar absorbed the sight of his first dead loved one—This wasn't like his birth family, where he was too young to remember it happening. He was also too young now, sure, but this he would surely remember.

"No, no, this isn't," Miranda was crying before she properly got down. "Tell me this isn't—"

"Had to one-up Sylvie for that... stupid knife stunt," Florian rasped. It was such an idiotic joke that Sylvie didn't know why she let out a dry laugh. Her hands squeezed his tighter.

"What—What happened?" Cedar choked out.

"Fuck. Fuckin'... dracaenae," Florian managed.

He sounded too much like Sylvie had when she had been dying. But Sylvie didn't actually die, so maybe there was a chance Florian wouldn't either, right?

Please, please, please, please, please—

"Can you believe Sylvie killed 'em for me? Our little... Sylv."

Florian's breath was getting shallower. Please. His eyes were slipping out of focus again. Please. His chest heaved with something between a laugh and a sob. Please. He was supposed to go to college for music. Please. He was supposed to get famous. Please.

"This isn't funny," Katie demanded, but even her anger didn't have its punch with the instability in her tone. "Florian, this isn't time for your stupid jokes. Stop."

"Not a joke this time." He let in a rattling breath that hurt to even hear. "Unfortunately."

"No, it is," insisted Miranda.

"Miranda..." Cedar started to say, shaking his head, but Miranda shook her head right back.

"No," she said, echoing Sylvie's denials through the tears pouring down her face. "This is a joke. You can't die. Y-You're my big brother. You—"

"I don't wanna."

Florian closed his eyes for the last time.

"I'm serious, I don't."

He was never serious.

"I—I love you guys so much. Wish it wasn't happening—"

He coughed weakly.

"Just keep playing my guitar for me, yeah? Nobody should live without—should live without..."

Nobody should live without Florian Whitlock, yet here they were.

They sat still for what felt like a very long time, or maybe was a very short time. Time didn't make sense to Sylvie anymore. Nothing did, without her big brother sharing the same lifetime as her anymore.

Who else would tease Sylvie so much that she got red in the face? Who else would make Sylvie feel so energized and alive that maybe she could act like a kid again? Who else would share judgmental and comical looks with her when someone said something they both didn't approve with? Who else would share the role of cabin leader with her, even if he was unqualified, because he knew Sylvie didn't want to bear it alone? Who else would pick her up and drop her off at the airport with his dad?

Oh, fuck, Sylvie thought. Who was going to tell Florian's dad?

Cedar was curled up a few feet away into himself, refusing to look anywhere near the boy who had once been his only other brother. Miranda had been weeping silently the whole time, quite the opposite in the way she couldn't look away. Katie's sobs had become a low scream that didn't seem to fade even after she ran out of breath. Florian's hands had gone slack on Sylvie's, and she knew it was because her big brother had died, but she couldn't move. It couldn't be over.

This couldn't be it.

"What do we do?" Katie (much-older-than-Sylvie Katie) asked as they'd been lingering for too long. Sylvie looked around at the three of them. They were all looking back at her.

Oh gods, she thought wearily, I'm in charge now.

She could still hear Florian in her head. It's all you now. It's all you now. It's all you now.

Everything was wrong. Nothing would ever be right again.

"We'll bring his body to Olympus," Sylvie decided. She wiped her hands on her already blood-soaked shorts. "Then we'll get one of the shrouds he brought in his backpack, and lay it on him."

They needed to start moving Florian now. Underneath him and all around, the earth was dying at the will of his corpse, green turning yellow and brown. Miranda kept desperately trying to bring the dead terrain beneath Florian back to life, though it wasn't much use.

Still, Sylvie didn't cry.

She wouldn't cry, not for a little bit. Not until she'd sent her siblings away to "fetch food and ambrosia." Not until she was properly alone to pull the shrouds out of Florian's bag. Not until she found one with a guitar on the bottom of it, designed to exactly match Florian's instrument back at camp.

Not until Sylvie realized Florian had made his own shroud, carrying it into battle with him.

That's when the sob tore through her throat, fast and painful.

That's when Pollux found Sylvie, his arm in a sling, coming to terms with the fact that his last remaining loved one was well and truly gone.

╰━━━ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀◦ ━━━╯ 

Bailey yaps...

Well

No notes here except stream Funeral by Phoebe Bridgers

Anyways here's Florian celebrating his 18th birthday not knowing he was doing to die 22 days later