Cecilia Holmes, Daughter of Minerva (Sherlock/Percy Jackson crossover)

Chapter 54

    “Sherlock, wait.”
    I was walking back to Cabin 11 after sing-along campfire time with Will and the rest of Apollo’s cabin. They had cooked smores and sang songs and done a bunch of other cliche camp things, while I had sat in the back by myself, simply observing rather than participating. It was all very amusing to me. I might’ve been bored, but I had had a lot on my mind.
    Like my task, for instance.
    But mostly Claude.
    I didn’t slow for him now but kept walking toward the cabin.
    “Sherlock. Sherlock!”
    Finally I stopped. I whirled around to face him.
    “What?” I snapped, glaring at his dark silhouette. I could see the yellow light of the fire still blazing in the distance, but other than that and the moon and stars, there were no other lights.
    “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “For being selfish and insensitive. Okay? That’s all I wanted to say.”
    “Okay…” I turned and walked toward the stairs.
    “I didn’t realize how upset you were, or I wouldn’t have minded so much that you used me as an excuse to fight Armin,” he continued, running up and grabbing my wrist. I jerked free but faced him anyway, crossing my arms. “And… I’m sorry… I know how much this task must be weighing on your mind… I know it’s not easy for you. I keep forgetting. I’m sorry for being a terrible friend.”
    “Okay,” I said again, looking at his feet.
    “Please forgive me?”
    “There’s nothing to forgive you for. Your actions are completely justified.”
    Claude was quiet.
.    “So… we’re good?” he asked.
    “We’ve never been good, Claude,” I stated.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Don’t you remember what I did to you?” The memories were replaying in my mind and I couldn’t stop them.
    He sighed.
    “We’ve already been through this…”
    “I know. And somehow you managed to forgive me, but I can’t forgive myself,” I said, my voice apathetic though my emotions screamed inside my chest. “Remember that it was only a few days ago for me. I know it’s been a lot longer for you… but I still don’t see how you could have possibly forgiven me. You’re Nemesis’s son, aren’t you?”
    “Sherlo—“
    “And you’re holding a grudge against Armin, and what in the underworld did he ever do to you? It couldn’t have been anything like what I did. Ha! Now we’re holding competitions for who can hurt you worse!”
    “Sher—“
    “So thanks for showing me around and for helping me so much these past few weeks… but whatever contract you agreed to that has made you loyal to me can be broken now.”    
    “There was no contract,” Claude finally cut in, “I am helping you because I want to. Because you need help. Because… you’re my friend.”
    “Am I, really?”
    “Aren’t you?”
    “I don’t know,” I whispered, “I don’t know.”
    “Well, I’m your friend, even if you don’t like it, and I hope that one day you’ll trust me enough that you’ll be mine, and then maybe one day… you’ll let me be more than that,” he said.
    “Why?” I sputtered, finally looking at his face. “Why? There is no logical reason why you should want me. There is no logical reason why you should be loyal to me. It doesn’t make any sense!”
    “Love doesn’t make sense,” Claude said, his voice gentle, “I am loyal to you because I don’t want anyone else but you. You accept me as I am. You understand and… you care. I know you do, behind that hard exterior of yours. I saw past it once… and I’ll break through it again. Just you wait and see, Sherlock, just you wait and see.”
    I stared at him. The shaggy-haired emo that always wore black. Sometimes there were sparks of compassion and happiness that reminded me of the old him, but no matter how much I wished it, the old Claude I knew was gone. Gone. And it was my fault.
    I couldn’t bear it.
    “But I turned you into… this!” I exclaimed, gesturing to him. He stood up straight, hurt flickering across his face.
    “So you hate who I am now?” he asked.
    “I don’t know!” I cried, running my fingernails across my scalp, trying to heighten my senses and to numb my raging emotions.
    “If you do, if you hate who I am right now, then yes. Yes, you do deserve all the blame and my hatred,” he said in a low voice. I met his gaze.     “But… please, look me in the eyes and tell me that. Tell me you hate me.”
    “W-why?!”
    “Because I still love you so much. And if you hate me…” he looked away. “Then I need to wake up.”
    I stared at him.
    Do I hate him? Do I?
    Unlike love, I knew what hatred felt like. And I didn’t have it in me to hate Claude. But I didn’t know if I loved him either. All I knew was that my love and loyalty was to my father whether I liked it or not, and I had to complete this task to save him. My feelings for Claude would have to be figured out later.
    “I… I don’t hate you, Claude,” I said, quietly. He looked at me. “But while we’re here, we can’t be together, okay? We have our roles to play. I have a job to do. So… for now, let’s give each other space. It’s better if we’re not seen together, anyway. By the end of my time here at Camp Half-Blood, you won’t want to have any ties with me, or they might accuse you of helping me.”
    Claude took a deep breath.
    “… Okay. Okay, okay… but I’m still here to help, if you need it. And don’t worry about me— you should be more worried about yourself at the moment.”
    I nodded.
    “How are you going to do it?” he asked in a very low voice, taking a step closer to me. “You’ve seen the camp and met him… do you have a plan?”
    I took a deep breath.
    “Not yet,” I whispered. I took a step back and then smiled.
    “Apology accepted, Claude. I’m sorry for hurting your ego. I didn’t mean it…”
    “It’s okay,” he whispered.
    “All right, well, goodnight,” I said with a wave. And then I headed up the stairs of Cabin Eleven.
    “Goodnight, Sherlock.”
    I barely heard his farewell.