(if you prefer Ao3)
They learn about it in the slowly bubbling, uncertain high of victory.
She died a hero, Clarisse says, repeats, convinces, closing Drew’s hands around a bracelet far too innocent to make everyone’s hearts sink with just a glance. Its silver colour is barely visible beneath the blood. Drew’s hands were already long slick with crimson. She doesn’t say anything.
(The daughter of Ares tells them the story as they pick up their other fallen siblings. Nobody responds)
Fuchsia with an apple for Anders, seventeen and the loveliest relationship advisor. Lacy only manages a few words through her sobs and tears, her hair still in the intricate but effective braid he had put it in before battle.
Coral with a conch shell for Khalid, twelve with a love for anything one could find at the bottom of the ocean. Valentina grips his stuffed anglerfish so tightly that she almost tears it while making her speech about him.
Salmon with a thorned rose for Ina, fifteen and the best fighter in the cabin. Mitchell can barely stand while talking, choked by having been unable to retrieve more of her than a gnarled arm, recognizable only through the heart-shaped birthmark spanning the back of her hand.
Magenta with a dove for Sawyer, fourteen with the kindest eyes in the world. Drew lays the sword they had never wanted in the fire and watches it melt into perfumed smoke without a word.
Cerise with flowering myrtle for Jasmin, sixteen and the craftiest painter around. Aminah bites her knuckles to the blood in a failed attempt not to cry when the burning paints colour the fire in impossible hues.
… Hot pink with an electric spear for Silena. Clarisse sets the fire with a blank face, dried tear tracks gouging grooves down her cheeks.
(A grief-stained title of cabin counsellor for Drew, fifteen with the weight of her world suddenly on her shoulders. Cabin Ten cannot keep her from turning her head high, eyeliner sharper than it’s been in years.)
----------
It’s not Drew who orders all signs of Silena Beauregard to be scrubbed from the insides of Cabin Ten.
Instead, Mitchell passes through the cabin while the others haunt around Camp like the ghosts they had avoided becoming. Carefully, carefully, he folds up Silena’s fashionista posters, picks pictures of her off the clothing clips on the strings strung up throughout the cabin, strips her bed of the flower pillows they’d all collaborated to get for her last (final) birthday, collects clothes from her section of shelves and drawers, and packs everything with even a trace of her into the suitcase under his bed. Grief echoes off the bare spaces, sandalwood perfume soaking into the walls, a vestige of one of the many lives struck short these past several days.
His siblings don’t say anything when they finally come and find him curled up on Ina’s bed, clutching her morning star plush like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to his body, the entire cabin missing key elements. Drew starts to get ready for bed, Aminah throws herself onto Jasmin’s bed and shatters, Lacy tears her hair free of Anders’s braid with a wail, and Valentina screams into Khalid’s pillows until her voice is hoarse. Mitchell swears he hears similar sounds from the other cabins.
(Rory comes the next day, backpack full of clothing designs he hadn’t bothered to unpack in his rush upon hearing about the strange happenings in New York. He takes one look at his siblings’ hollowed faces, at the bare beds, at the empty spaces, and breaks, begging for forgiveness for not being there to fight along their sides, for not protecting them like an older brother should, for working on his college projects while they fought and died for the world. Drew scoffs, lips perfectly painted, and says there’s a reason they didn’t tell him war was brewing over their last Iris Message. The others pile onto him, cursing and crying and trying to keep themselves from falling into pieces.)
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Officially, Silena Beauregard is a hero. She had been burned with laurel wreaths, and offerings were tossed into the fire to aid her journey to Elysium. Her photo has been put up in the Big House alongside many others, and even Mr D managed not to butcher “Silena Beauregard” for once, prompted by a centaur kick. Her name is whispered under the topic of the ultimate sacrifice, of the power of love, of the bravery of unexpected leaders.
Unofficially, the only one who speaks her name with pure reverence is Clarisse La Rue, and no one says it with such vitriol as Drew Tanaka. Her spy bracelet, still drenched in blood, has been hurled against a wall and remains hidden and gathering dust under her bed. Her cabin has been scrubbed clean of any mentions of her, her name unspoken in fear of Drew’s newfound cruelty.
(Drew builds back up the walls her siblings had dismantled with so much care, taller and thicker than ever before.)
(Mitchell retreats back into himself, the skittishness he had worked so hard to shed shrouding him in full force once again.)
(Lacy melts into the crowd like never before, burying her voice beneath a blanket of sorrow.)
(Valentina ditches her soft colours and loose wardrobe, forcing attention onto her new tastefully torn jeans and bold shades and away from her wail-wrecked throat.)
(Aminah tugs her grief tight around herself and leaves with the summer, her goodbye lacking a definitive “see you later”.)
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Two boys, adorned in pearls and guided by geese, arrive in a cabin full but hollow, plagued by dead siblings and a traitorous hero. Twins, they are, nine years old and unknowing of the carnage of war, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Drew scoffs and scolds but leaves them to her remaining siblings, for her sharp tongue has never been suited for introductions, and even in the wake of her death-stained rule, she will not dare shut children down so soon after arrival.
Names of all the ghosts haunting the cabin become unspoken, none willing to explain them and blemish the twins’ innocence.
It does not work.
Not when Lev walks in on Lacy sorting and resorting dozens of vials of perfumes with shaking hands and trembling breaths. Not when Ren asks Valentina about the night sky painted on the wall over an empty bed and she shuts down entirely for the rest of the day. Not when Lev holds up a mirror to help Mitchel neaten up the impulsive haircut he had given himself after a game of Capture the Flag. Not when Ren catches Drew in a screaming match with another camper over a girl he had never heard about.
Not when something weighs heavily over the empty spaces in the cabin, over the necks of their newfound siblings.
So they ask someone else.
Clarisse La Rue. Will Solace. Connor Stoll. Nyssa Barrera. Malcolm Pace.
Slowly, slowly, they collect pieces, find ways to fit them together, compare conflicting accounts. They get the story of clashing metal, raging fire, slithering scales. A frightful fairytale, starring their fellow campers as the main characters. The missing limbs, the overabundance of scars, the paranoid glances — it all clicks together, and the uncomfortable hollowness of Camp Half-Blood is suddenly apparent.
(Eventually, they ask about their own Cabin’s side of the story.)
(They receive no answer beyond solemn looks and half-hearted shrugs.)
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Piper McLean falls from the sky, crashing straight through the fragile roof of the system Cabin Ten has established for itself the moment she bursts with pink light.
She is… argumentative. Unwilling to cram herself into the tattered tapestry of their Cabin the war had left behind. Determined to be different, to stand out, to raise her hackles at those around her. Filled with an anger towards the paints and ruffles her siblings wrap themselves in, and unconcerned with not letting it spill over and burn them.
She challenges Drew, and they cheer.
(Will the sister-that-never-left finally come back to them?)
Drew scoffs and huffs, sharpens her nails on the sound of Piper’s voice, but does not fight.
(They have fought for so long, and she is tired, and maybe an older kid with none of the wounds that mar the rest of them is needed in Cabin Ten.)
(Within a month, Drew wrenches permission for them to leave Camp for a shopping trip out of Chiron, and they know she is coming back.)
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Unspoken Words
Matthew Fairchild x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: mentions of substance abuse.
Summary: Matthew surprises Y/N at her flat after his year of travelling. Some unspoken emotions surface.
A/N: this is kind of a au where Matthew never had any sort of relationship with Cordelia except for friendship :)
Shadowhunter Chronicles Masterlist
•••
Y/N knew that she wasn’t expecting anyone. If any of her friends and family were going to pop around, they would send a note beforehand. Y/N was just getting ready for bed when there was a loud knock on her front door. At first she debated even answering it, but after knowing that the nice mundane doorman would never let anyone up to her apartment without knowing them beforehand, she felt the smallest bit safer.
She threw her robe around herself and took the few steps down the hallway from her bedroom to her front door. When she opened it, Y/N froze and stared wide-eyed. Her heart had immediately begun pounding.
“Hello, Y/N,” Matthew said, his beautiful smile stretching across his face.
“Matthew?” Y/N whispered, unable to believe what she was seeing.
Y/N stepped back to allow Matthew into her flat and closed the front door, still trying to process everything. Once she turned back to Matthew she hesitantly reached out and brushed her hand over his arm, trying to deem if he were real or not.
“I can’t tell if it’s really you or not,” Y/N said as she took one more step closer.
“It’s really me,” Matthew said, his voice low and warm.
Y/N trailed her hand up his arm until she reached his shoulder and gripped onto it. “You’re really here.”
“I am,” Matthew said breathlessly.
Y/N smiled and threw her arms around Matthew’s neck and pulled him tightly to her. His own arms wrapped around her waist and pressed her body into his own until there wasn’t a single gap between them.
Y/N’s head buried in the crook of Matthew’s neck as she breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne. She hadn’t realised how much she missed it until now. Her shoulders shook as she tried her best to keep the tears from flowing down her cheeks but failed. All the emotion she had over missing Matthew was all coming out.
Matthew pulled away from their hug and rested his forehead against Y/N’s. “There’s no need to cry.”
“You’re crying too,” Y/N said as she noticed the tears brimming Matthew’s eyes.
He tried to blink his own away but only succeeded in making them fall down his cheeks. Y/N let out a breathy laugh and wiped his tears away, her hands lingering on his cheeks.
“I missed you so much,” Y/N whispered. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I missed you too,” Matthew said. “More than you can imagine.”
“I wished everyday that you would show up on my doorstep, I’ve even dreamed of it a few times,” Y/N admitted. “That’s why I didn’t believe you were really here.”
“I dreamed of you too,” Matthew said. “Nearly every night I was away.”
Y/N closed her eyes and savoured the feeling of Matthew’s arms wrapped around her. It had been just over a year since she had last seen Matthew. They had sent letters to one another over the year but it wasn’t ever nearly enough. Having Matthew with her and hearing his voice was the greatest gift Y/N had ever received.
A loud crash echoed from the flat above Y/N’s and caused the two to jump apart in surprise. Y/N immediately missed the warmth of Matthew’s body. As she now stood opposite him she realised how little she wore. Her night clothes were thin and didn’t do a huge job of concealing her body. Y/N flushed and Matthew tried not to move his gaze away from her face.
“Do you want tea or anything?” Y/N asked, leading Matthew through her flat and to her living room.
The room had a lingering warmth from the fire that had been roaring not too long ago. Despite this, Y/N still felt a chill.
“I’m okay, thank you, Y/N,” Matthew’s response was strangely formal.
Y/N only nodded and took a seat on her couch and beckoned Matthew over. “Tell me about your travels.”
“I’m sure you’ve already heard all about them,” Matthew said, getting comfortable next to Y/N.
“I want to hear about them again,” Y/N said. “I want to hear you tell me, not just read about them.”
“Okay,” Matthew said, settling further down into the couch, his arm brushing Y/N’s as she unconsciously shuffled closer.
When Matthew began talking about his travels, the smile on his face was infectious. It was a smile that, before his travels, Matthew brought out so rarely. A soft smile graced Y/N’s face as she listened to Matthew. His hands flapped about as he spoke and she wanted to reach forward and intertwine her fingers with his.
It was no secret to anyone else that Y/N loved Matthew dearly. Before he left, even she hadn’t known exactly what she felt for the blonde Fairchild. She had only ever thought that her relationship with him was a close friendship. It wasn’t until he left for his travels where she realised that the ache in her chest wasn’t because her friend had left. It was because the person she loved had left.
For weeks, Y/N didn’t leave her flat much, only to buy food or gather her post. She was happy for Matthew. Happy that he was doing something he had always wanted to do. The only thing she wished was that she had realised her feelings for the Fairchild sooner.
“Are you even listening to me?” Matthew teased as he noticed Y/N’s faraway expression.
“Of course I am!” Y/N exclaimed.
“Then what did I just say?”
Y/N’s mouth opened and closed trying to respond but she couldn’t because she truly didn’t know what Matthew said.
“I will listen now, I swear,” Y/N said.
Matthew rolled his eyes and pulled Y/N closer to his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’ve spoken enough of my travels, tell me about what you did.”
Y/N sighed and wrapped her arms around Matthew’s torso and rested her head on his chest. “You don’t want to hear about what I did. It’s rather boring.”
“Nothing you do is boring,” Matthew said, his arm moving from her shoulders to rest on the dip of her waist.
Y/N felt the heat of his hand through her thin nightgown and robe. She wasn’t entirely sure that Matthew even realised that he had moved his arm, but Y/N didn’t say anything about it.
“Honestly Matthew,” Y/N said. “I haven’t really done much.”
“Liar,” Matthew whispered against her hair.
Y/N sighed. “I did a little travelling of my own, not to your scale though. I just did a small tour around England, Scotland and Wales for a few months, nothing too grand.”
“Did you enjoy it?” Matthew asked.
Y/N nodded. “I did, it felt…freeing.” Y/N traced the pattern on Matthew’s waistcoat with her finger. “I do like London but being away for a bit made me realise how little I’ve actually done with my life.”
“Don’t say that,” Matthew said. “You’ve done a lot with your life.”
“But only to the confines of London,” Y/N said. “When I travelled, it was the first time I’d ever seen the sea and felt sand between my toes.”
“Where was your favourite place to go?”
“Cornwall,” Y/N answered. “I spent a week there, the longest I spent anywhere. I stayed in a small village and everyone knew each other. It was nice to now worry about anything and just live in the moment. Is that how you felt?”
Matthew smiled. “That is how I felt.”
“It was a good feeling,” Y/N said.
The two fell into a comfortable silence. Y/N still lightly traced the patterns on Matthew’s waistcoat while he toyed with the ends of her hair. Y/N felt her heart begin to beat rapidly as Matthew’s hand moved from the dip of her waist to her hip. Still he didn’t seem to notice.
Y/N tilted her head up to look at Matthew, his eyebrows were furrowed as if he was in deep thought. However once he noticed Y/N’s changed in position his gaze shifted to meet hers.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi,” he replied.
The two only looked at one another, no words exchanged. Their faces so close that Y/N could feel his breath lightly fan her face and she had no doubt that Matthew could feel hers.
A shiver made its way through her body and she pressed herself closer to Matthew, wanting his warmth. The hand that had been simply resting on his lap was now rubbing her upper arm lightly trying to give Y/N as much warmth as possible.
The places Matthew touched felt like they were on fire despite the plunging temperature. His touch sent her alight.
Y/N’s hand moved from where it was rested on his chest to his cheek, her thumb lightly brushing across his cheekbone. Matthew watched her movements carefully.
“Did you meet anyone while travelling?” Y/N asked the question before she could even think about the repercussions.
Matthew froze as did Y/N.
“I didn’t mean to ask that,” Y/N said, wide-eyed and began to pull away from Matthew. “That was completely out of line. I’m so sorry-”
“Y/N,” Matthew said. He didn’t sound angry.
Y/N stopped and looked at Matthew. She was beyond embarrassed. Even if he did meet anyone, it was none of her business. Matthew was his own person and could make his own choices. And just because she loved him, doesn’t mean that he loved her back.
As Y/N began to pull even further away from him, Matthew lightly grasped her and pulled her closer to him until they were in the same position as before.
“Ask me again?” Matthew said.
“What?” Y/N questioned, even though she knew exactly what Matthew wanted her to ask.
“The question,” Matthew said. “Ask me again?”
“Did you meet anyone?” She asked.
There was a pause while Matthew let out a breath. “No, I didn’t.”
Y/N felt bad that she felt the smallest bit relieved at his answer.
“Did you meet anyone?”
The question caught Y/N off guard. “Sorry?”
“Did you meet anyone?” Matthew repeated.
“No,” Y/N answered. “No, I didn’t.”
Matthew only nodded as he didn’t meet her gaze. His eyes were fixated on where his hand grasped hers.
Y/N now felt hot. Before she was cold but now she was burning everywhere and wanted to escape the conversation. The once comfortable atmosphere had changed to one of uncertainty. Y/N didn’t like the change.
“Why did you ask me that question?” Matthew asked, his gaze still purposefully avoiding hers.
“I-I don’t know,” Y/N said.
“You do know,” Matthew said.
Y/N sighed and looked at where their hands were joined, the cool metal of his rings pressed against her skin. The words were on the tip of her tongue but she couldn’t bring herself to speak them.
“I asked you that question because…” she trailed off.
“Because what, Y/N?” Matthew’s gaze finally met her’s. “Please tell me.”
“Because I am in love with you.” Y/N’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Despite her nerves, Y/N felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. The words she had always wanted to write to Matthew in her letters were finally spoken. The world grew dark as Y/N closed her eyes, not wanting to meet Matthew’s gaze in fear of what he would say or do. If he pushed her away, Y/N wouldn’t know how she would react.
However, what Matthew did say surprised her.
“You can’t mean that,” Matthew said.
“What?” Y/N said and opened her eyes. “Of course I mean that.”
Matthew shook his head, emotions swimming in his green eyes. “You can’t.”
“Why can’t I?” Y/N said. “I am in love with you Matthew.”
“No,” Matthew said, tears welling in his eyes. He clutched Y/N’s hands tighter.
“I do,” she said, bringing her hands from his and caressed the sides of his face. “I love you.”
Matthew’s eyes bore into hers. They held a look on uncertainty, like he wasn’t entirely sure that anything was real.
“How can you possibly mean that?” Matthew said.
“I do mean it,” Y/N said. “I love you so much that it hurt me so much when you left for your travels. I didn’t realise it before but once you left I realised that what I felt for you was love. Not the type of love you share with any of our friends. I felt it long before but was too oblivious to realise it. I fell in love with you years ago.”
“You loved me even when…” Matthew trailed off, not wanting to speak much of that period in his life.
“Even then,” Y/N said. “I adore you.”
Y/N wiped away the tears from his eyes as Matthew gently held onto her wrists, leaning into her touch.
“If you don’t feel the same, it’s okay,” Y/N said, her voice cracking. “We can just forget about it.”
“I never thought I deserved you,” Matthew said, his voice wavered like any moment he would burst into tears. “I never told you I loved you because I didn’t deserve you.”
Y/N’s heart broke hearing the sadness in Matthew’s voice. “Why didn’t you think you deserved me?”
“I could barely take care of myself, let alone you,” Matthew replied. “There were times when I wanted to tell you, not caring how it would affect our friendship. You were– are the constant thing on my mind. I wake up thinking about you and I fall asleep thinking about you.” Matthew paused to let out a shaky breath. “When I went on my travels, I hoped that I could move past what I felt for you but with every letter I sent you and how you responded with such excitement and telling me how proud you were of me, the more I fell in love with you– even if I was thousands of miles away.”
Y/N let out a breath and pressed her forehead against Matthew’s. “You deserve the world, Matthew. You deserve everything good in it.” Y/N's thumb gently moved across his cheekbone. “I know your life hasn’t been easy. I know you have struggled for years. But you need to know how proud of you I am, how proud everyone is of you. You are always surrounded by people who love you so much. Never forget that.”
Matthew let the tears fall as Y/N wrapped him into a hug. He buried his head into the crook of her neck as his body shook. Y/N clutched onto him tightly.
“I don’t deserve you,” Matthew muttered.
“You do,” Y/N said. “You deserve every good thing.”
Matthew pulled away and took Y/N’s face in his hands. “You are the best thing in my life.”
“I thought James was?” Y/N joked, hoping it would make Matthew at least crack a smile. She succeeded.
Matthew smiled. “Second best then.”
Y/N smiled as she leaned into his touch. “I love you, Matthew.”
“I love you too,” Matthew said.
Y/N’s heart swelled as Matthew spoke those words. A year of sending letters back and forth and realising her feelings for him, she never expected that he would ever feel the same way. Now as she looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pure love, she knew she was home.
“May I kiss you?” Matthew asked.
Y/N smiled. “You may.”
Once their lips touched, Y/N could think of nothing else but Matthew. His lips were soft and he tasted sweet. When she thought of kissing Matthew several months ago after a very particular dream, she had imagined fireworks and an overwhelming amount of feelings. She felt none of those.
Kissing Matthew felt normal, like their lips were always meant to touch and connect. They fit perfectly together– two halves of a whole.
An arm wrapped around her waist and Matthew pulled her on top of him with one swift motion, without disconnecting their lips. Y/N let out a small noise of surprise.
“Sorry,” Matthew mumbled against her lips. “I just need to be closer to you.”
Y/N’s eyes fluttered close as Matthew pressed his lips against Y/N’s once more. Her arms wrapped around Matthew’s neck and threaded her fingers in his hair, her nails lightly scratching his scalp. Matthew sighed in delight.
Y/N smiled into the kiss. She never would have thought that this was how her night would go. Finally kissing the man she loved after only loving him from afar. The feeling of his arms wrapped around her body made her feel safe and loved. Each touch sent her alight and left goosebumps in their wake. Everything about Matthew heightened her senses more than any rune ever could.
Matthew pulled away once more and opened his eyes to look at Y/N. His arms were locked around her keeping her in place and he tightened his arms the slightest amount.
“I love you,” Matthew said with a smile. It lit up his entire face. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you in my life.”
“How lucky you are?” Y/N said, brushing his hair away from his face. “I am the lucky one, because you, Matthew Fairchild, are a gift.”
Matthew smiled and nuzzled his head in the crook of her neck, pressing a light kiss to her bare shoulder where her robe had slid down.
Y/N smiled and held him long into the night.
_________________
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