Previously, on TAC...

His gaze wandered down to the bottle on the ground. He wanted to take another drink, but he didn't want to get up. On a silly impulse, he focused on the vodka inside the bottle, imagining it flying into his hand. He felt a familiar tugging in his gut, but the sensation was dull. To his surprise, the bottle stirred, spinning around and teetering back and forth before finally tipping over and rolling on the ground toward him. He gasped and leapt to his feet, locking eyes with a stunned Anastasia, who had frozen in a bridge.

"No fucking way," she said, her eyes gleaming fiendishly.

He turned his focus back to the bottle on the ground at his feet and willed the liquid to lift the bottle off the ground and fly into his hand. The alcohol wasn't as responsive to his commands as normal water was, but he felt more confident in this state. His will was stronger, he was sure of it. Haltingly, the bottle of vodka began to raise in the air, shakily righting itself, when the alcohol suddenly shot out the opening and swirled in a cyclone above his palm. The bottle dropped to the ground with a thud.

She led him to the section of the beach where the Euros Creek, which connected to Canoe Lake, met the ocean... Where the saltwater met fresh, there was a large tavern that looked like it was woven out of reeds and seagrass.

He and Peleus were standing at the edge of a great precipice, and the canyon in front of them looked like a mine. Merpeople and water spirits, many of whom were emblazoned with a prominent brand of a trident, hacked pickaxes and manned drills into the seafloor. Men displayed the mark on their chests while women displayed it on their backs. Their faces were covered in muddy dirt, and their expressions were stony and resigned. Other merpeople and dolphins in colorful uniforms stood guard around, brandishing electric eels as if they were whips... "This is the nearest labor camp," Peleus explained grimly.

Marcus nodded. "You shouldn't even exist, Percy Jackson. Yet, you've caused a big splash around here, like you want a lot of attention. That's what really grinds our gears."

"Pace yourself, though. This is Otto's special blend of rum. It's three times as strong as the strongest mortal rum you'll find."

Percy looked down into his drink. "Whoa."

Otto chuckled. "It be not a problem for the sons of Poseidon."

"We have naturally high alcohol tolerances," Kook explained. "We're made of more water than most people."

Snorting, he said, "Sometimes, I think alcohol might be the only thing keeping me sane."

Her eyes grew wide. "Oh, I know! I need it just to relax sometimes. I'm actually fermenting my own wine with these grapes just so I can always have it on hand."

"Yeah, that's smart." Percy dragged a hand through his hair. "I mean, I don't drink a crazy amount. I try to monitor what I have. It's fine in moderation."

"Well, yeah. Yeah."

Chapter Text

Crafting the perfect email was an art. Unfortunately, Percy had never been very artistic.

He hovered his cursor over the red "x" on the corner of his attachment. On the one hand, Annabeth had specifically asked to see photos of some of his excursions with Paul. On the other hand, he hated every single photo he'd seen. The one he'd selected was the product of a grueling, self-critical survey of all of his options, chosen because it wasn't a very up-close shot, and it was a candid photo of him while windsurfing. He didn't love the way he looked in the wetsuit, but the sail partially obscured his body from view. He was leaning back enough for his face to be visible, however, and he, surprisingly, looked genuinely happy in the photograph. That was what Percy liked best about it.

After some intense internal back and forth, he once again decided to keep the picture, turning his attention back to the body of the email. He and Annabeth were engaged in a competition to see who could successfully convince their civics teacher for the longest time that their absent parent was really in the Secret Service, so, naturally, the update where he had dropped hints to her that the giant, brutish boy with whom he had gotten expelled last year had been his bodyguard was non-negotiable. In a way, he figured, the fact that he had gotten expelled from so many schools in the past for similar incidents only strengthened his story; it really made it seem plausible that there was a hit out against him.

He re-read the sentence where he told her about his A on his science project over and over, furrowing his brow. He worried that it seemed like he was trying too hard to impress her, and he didn't want to come off as pathetic. Besides, it was just a good grade for a scale model of a volcano he had constructed based on a topographical map. It was basically arts and crafts. Cringing inside, he added a sentence beforehand that read, "Anyway, I asked my mom if I could technically get a religious exemption from taking science, but she wouldn't go for it, for some reason." Then, after the part about his project, he added, "...so I GUESS it's fine lol."

He skimmed the rest of the email again and finally got to the hardest part: the postscript. He typed out the three words for the tenth time, then stared at them, his stomach knotting, until he deleted them again. Then he poised his fingers over the keys once more, hesitating.

With a deep breath, he once again typed out, "P.S. Happy Valentine's Day." He bounced his leg at a mile a minute as he stared at those words, debating. It was technically the night before Valentine's Day, but he wasn't sure whether she would respond tomorrow, so he didn't want to miss his chance to say something. Finally, he moved the cursor over to the "send" button and hovered. He quickly looked over everything else again. The rest of the email seemed fine, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the ending wasn't quite right. He typed a smiley face after the postscript, then replaced it with "lol" instead, then deleted that and tried out a few different emoticons. Nothing seemed quite right. Finally, he decided that what it probably needed was more words as a buffer, so he added, "Hope you have fun." He hovered over the send button again, then closed his eyes and clicked.

Well, can't take that back. Time to drink.

Euros Creek Pub was mildly buzzing when he arrived, with most of the water spirits milling about and making casual conversation. A few nereids were sprinkled here and there, and Percy noticed Sandro sitting by himself at the bar, but other than that, the place was all freshwater naiads. Natalie spotted him as soon as he entered, her face lighting up like she was a kid on Christmas Day.

"Hey, Percy's here!" she called out. Nearly everyone in the bar turned and smiled at him, lobbing casual hellos his way. He shrank into himself. He didn't want to be rude, but he wasn't in the mood to be very social tonight. He had been having particularly disturbing dreams lately, including one where he was forced to work at an undersea labor camp, and Triton was ordering him around with an electric eel whip. In the version he had experienced last night, his father had been watching from a distance without intervening. Needless to say, he was running on fumes today.

Wearily, he sat down beside Sandro, and the older man dipped his head in reverence before once again staring into his drink. Percy was going to greet him, but the instant his backside hit the stool, he was distracted by Natalie appearing before him with a blue hurricane.

"Here you go, Captain," she said, chipper, "just the way you like it!"

"Thanks," he said, forcing a grin. She raised her own glass and, reaching over the bar, clinked it against his. "Oh, you're drinking one too? Is that the same?"

"Yeah, I made one for myself," she said, stirring her drink. "I think this is going to be my new go-to. The blue curacao is so good."

"Right? That's what I'm saying." He leaned forward. "Although, between you and me, I really only asked for it because it's blue."

"No, but like, it really adds something," she insisted. "Like, it was a good idea."

"Oh, well, thanks."

At the other end of the bar, Marcus and Damien strolled in and waved Natalie over. She set her drink down in front of Percy's while she went to go tend to them, shaking their hands, and Percy turned his attention back to Sandro.

"How you doing?" he asked.

Sandro smiled wearily into his glass, the lines on his weathered face deepening. "I'm doing alright," he said. After a pause, he added, "I hate the winter."

"Ah," Percy nodded. "Yeah, I prefer summer, myself."

"I like spring," Sandro said wistfully. "Everything comes alive then. It's a beautiful reprieve between the dreariness of winter, when the ice sets in, and the tumult of the stormy season."

"Well, we're almost there," Percy said. "Next month, spring starts."

Sandro nodded slowly. "Yes. Soon."

Trevor sidled up to Percy and punched his arm. "Percy Jackson! How've you been?"

Percy stifled a grimace. "Good, good," he said, looking at his drink. "It hasn't been that long since I've been here."

"I know, I'm just saying, how are you?" Trevor flipped his sandy hair out of his eyes and surveyed the bar. "You picked a good night to grace us with your presence. Nothing but tail here, wall to wall."

Percy rolled his eyes. "So, how's camp been?" he asked. "Any updates there?"

Trevor scoffed. "I don't know, that's more of a question for Natalie. I never really go up on the surface. Not my scene." He scanned the bar. "Where…oh, there she is." He nodded in her direction at the other end of the bar as Kostas and Brionne approached her. Trevor barked out a laugh as Natalie greeted them.

"Check it out," he said to Percy in a low voice, "she's going to shake his hand."

Sure enough, when Kostas leaned forward as if to embrace her, she stuck out her hand instead. Trevor snickered, looking at Percy as if they were sharing some sort of inside joke. Percy thought he must have missed it, which suited him just fine; he didn't want an inside joke with Trevor.

"What's wrong with shaking hands?" he said, taking a gulp of his drink. "I much prefer that."

"Oh, I know," Trevor said emphatically. "That's the point. She copies everything you do." He laughed again, and Percy bristled at his derision, even though he wasn't the target. "Haven't you noticed?"

Percy looked at Natalie's drink, still next to him on the bar, then down at his own.

The demigod shrugged. "I don't know. It doesn't seem that out of character. She is kind of tomboyish."

Trevor rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'll say. Psst! Hey, Maia! Maia!" He waved over the nereid, who was talking to Natasha and a couple of other Zephyros naiads a few feet away. She regarded Trevor warily as she approached, but, unperturbed, the boy wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned in toward Percy.

"Okay," he said matter-of-factly, "is Natalie or is she not obsessed with Percy?"

Maia looked up at him dubiously. "Um, in what way?"

"Like he's got a shadow," Trevor said. "Like she's going to steal his identity."

Maia snorted, looking down and pressing her lips together in a tight, thin line.

"It's true!" Trevor insisted. "You know what I'm talking about!"

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I know what you're talking about."

Percy blinked. "Seriously?"

Maia gave a tight-lipped grin, like she was trying to hold back, but she nodded. "She really admires you."

"Yeah, she's like, your number one fan," Trevor said. "Makes sense why she's like your personal assistant."

"She is not," Percy protested. "She's just, I don't know, nice. We're friends."

Maia looked down. "Right."

Trevor gave Percy a sly grin. "Oh, come on. Do all your friends dote on you like that?" Percy waved him off. "Or just the female ones, maybe?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Hey," Maia warned quietly.

"No, I know, I know," he said defensively, "it's just a joke."

Natalie walked back over and took back her drink. "Hey again! Sorry about that." She took a small sip and swished it around before forcing it down. "So, tell me what's new with you."

"It hasn't been that long since he's been in here, Natalie," Trevor teased.

Natalie laid eyes on Maia beside him and froze like a deer in the headlights. "Oh…hey."

"Hey," Maia said stiffly.

Natalie tapped her fingers on her glass a few times. "I've…got some stuff to do. I'll talk to you later." She hurried away, picking empty glasses off the bar.

"What was that about?" Percy asked Maia. "I thought you guys were, like–"

"Not anymore," she said.

"Not right now," Trevor corrected. "Give it, like, a week."

"Shut up, Trevor."

"Or, better yet, just start hanging out with Percy instead. It'll be like nothing changed."

She pushed herself out from under his arm and crossed her own.

"Okay, lay off Nat," Percy said. "You don't have to be a dick about it."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Trevor said, holding up his hands. "I would never."

"Is it a little cringey? Maybe," Percy continued, "but she's not hurting anybody. You don't have to give her shit."

"No, yeah," Maia said carefully, "it's just a little off-putting when she changes her personality like this. But it has nothing to do with you, my lord."

Percy furrowed his brow. "Is that why you're fighting?"

Maia looked taken aback. "No, it's not that. It's just…it's complicated." She sighed. "We have a long and complicated history."

"Hey, she and I go way back, too," Trevor said. "And–no disrespect to Percy, of course–I think I've earned the right to give her shit." He dipped his head toward Percy. "But I'm sorry if I offended you."

"No, just my friend," he said, irritated. He grabbed his drink and walked behind the bar.

Natalie was pouring a drink for Diamond when he approached her, stopping to lean against the wall. "Hey."

She looked up and beamed at him. "Hey! You okay?"

"I think I need people to be less social with me," he said, subtly rolling his eyes.

She stiffened. "Yeah, I try not to bother you when I can tell you're not feeling very up to it. I get the same way sometimes."

"No, no, not you!" he said. "No, you don't get on my nerves."

She cracked a relieved smile. "Oh, okay."

Percy leaned in. "Between you and me," he whispered, "Trevor kind of does."

Widening her eyes in acknowledgment, she gave a loaded nod. "He's somewhat of an acquired taste."

"Are you and he actually friends?" he asked. "Be honest."

"We…" she paused, sliding the drink across the bar. "We're forced together by circumstance. And that's just how it is. But, I will say, he gets easier to be around with time. He grows on you."

"Oh, yeah?" He smirked. "How many centuries did that take?"

She laughed uproariously, clutching her side. "I mean, you're not wrong," she said.

Damien strode up to the bar and waved at Natalie. "Can we do a round of shots? Something clear, please, I'm not trying to have another fiasco like that one solstice." He laid eyes on Percy and nodded his head. "Percy Jackson, good to see you again."

"You too, Damien."

Damien turned around and nudged Marcus, then turned back to Percy. "We heard about what you did for the Hudson and East Rivers," he said. "I'm glad you haven't forgotten about us freshwater folks."

Percy shrugged. "Of course not. Manhattan is my home. Plus, water is water."

Marcus chuckled. "Yeah, water is water." Damien caught Marcus's eye and jerked his head toward Percy, giving his counterpart a tough look. Nodding reluctantly, Marcus said, "Erm, I just want to say, I think I misjudged you before. I'm sorry if I offended you."

Damien nodded in agreement. "You're a good guy."

"You're a powerful guy," Marcus added. "I'd hate to be on your bad side."

Percy shook his head good-naturedly. "Hey, no hard feelings."

"Good," Marcus said, holding out his hand. Percy shook his, and then Damien's, as Natalie set down four shot glasses between them.

"Coconut rum," she announced. "Goes down easy."

"Comes back up hard," Damien muttered, chuckling and sharing a look with Marcus.

They downed their shots, and Natalie pointed at Percy's glass.

"Do you need more?" she asked. "Here, I'll let you do it."

She grabbed all the ingredients and set them out, then walked him through each of the steps again. "You're going to turn it all the way over like this and count it out," she said, "and measure out the blue before you fill it with juice."

He methodically checked off all the steps as she watched approvingly. "Good job," she encouraged, "you're not half bad."

"You think I could be a bartender?" he ribbed, downing half the glass in one go.

"Hey, maybe," she said.

"What's it take, a little of this?" He flipped the bottle of Shipwreck in the air and spun, catching it behind his back. Natalie flinched, her hands half-reached out in fear.

"Careful," she said through nervous laughter.

He winked. "Please, I could do this with my eyes closed."

She looked less than convinced. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I have a secret. Watch." He tossed the bottle in midair, and it hovered above their heads, spinning round and round, while he grabbed his shot glass and held it out. Carefully, the spinning bottle stopped and tipped over, and a perfect stream of rum poured into the glass. The bottle righted itself and sank slowly into Percy's open hand.

Natalie slowly picked her jaw off the floor. "I didn't know you could do that," she said.

He knocked the shot back and held out his arms. "Pretty cool, right?"

She giggled, shaking her head. "That is actually a pretty cool party trick." He started to put the hurricane ingredients away, but she grabbed his wrist. "Could you just pour a little bit more into mine, please?"

He shook his head in surprise. "Wait, is yours made with Shipwreck? What?" She did a little half-shrug, half-nod. "Nat, this stuff is hardcore. It'll have you on your ass."

"I'm a bartender, Percy. I can handle it," she said defensively. "I've been drinking since before even your namesake was."

"Even so," he insisted. She gave him a hard look but allowed him to put the bottle away.

Marcus slapped the bar in front of them suddenly, turning to face Percy and Natalie with his arm around Kostas. The shot seemed to have worked quickly on him. "And another thing I forgot to thank you for," he said, grinning from ear to ear, "you brought back our old friends!"

"That's right," Kostas said. "Lord Percy, protector of the guardians!"

"King of the trash!" Marcus cried.

"Hear, hear," another voice rang out, and Percy noticed Peleus from across the bar standing with Calli. A soft smile spreading across his face, he beckoned her over, and she broke out into a run across the room and practically launched herself over the bar into his arms. He chuckled and kissed her on the cheek as she did the same.

"Awww," Brionne said, walking up to the bar, "you guys are so cute."

Ignoring her, Percy asked Calli, "So, what's new with you? Any updates on those seals you found?"

She gasped. "Yes, the harp seals! I did finally get to explain to them where they were, and that they were a long way from home." Calli turned to Natalie, Brionne, Marcus, and Kostas and explained, "I found a pod of harp seals off the coast of Long Island a couple of weeks ago. They're usually native to the Arctic Circle, but since the ice is melting up there and it's getting warmer, I've encountered a few wanderers in recent years searching for more ice."

Kostas whistled. "Hard to believe anyone wants it to be colder than it already is."

"But hasn't this winter seemed mild to you?" Brionne asked. "You've been gone–in hibernation, basically–for so long, but the rest of us have been here as things gradually get warmer, like frogs boiling in a pot. Just based on the last winter you remember, do you think there's a difference?"

Kostas tilted his head and thought for a good minute. "There's a lot less ice," he finally said. "And it's not as bitter. And–yeah, now that you mention it. I guess."

Calli nodded thoughtfully. "A lot less ice. I tried to tell them that they weren't going to find what they're looking for down here, and it's best for them to go back home, but they haven't left yet. I think they're confused."

Kostas's eyes grew wide. "But wait–if they're from the Arctic Circle…you don't think…"

Calli signed wearily. "No, Kostas, I don't think that these seals are agents of the titan army."

"Maybe that's just what they want you to think," Marcus said with a shit-eating grin, then hiccupped.

Kostas asked Percy, "Have you met these seals yet, my lord?"

"Ooo, she's going to have to sic Percy on them," Marcus said.

Percy rolled his eyes, removing his glass from his lips long enough to say, "No, but I'd love to meet the harp seals."

"I'll show you," Calli said, resting a hand on his arm. "Maybe they'll even listen to you."

"I can certainly try."

Marcus suddenly barked out a laugh, and Percy looked to see Kostas, who had been whispering to the creek guardian, abruptly withdraw into himself. "We're bothering Lord Perseus, methinks," Marcus said, snickering. Kostas laughed soundlessly, looking stiff as a board.

"All of us except Calli, that is," Brionne said.

Percy shook his glass, the tiny slivers of what was left of his ice cubes rattling. "I'm not annoyed," he said, "my drink is just empty."

Eyebrow arched, Natalie plucked the glass out of his hand, and in a flash, she had it filled again.

"Thanks, Nat," he said, taking a swig. "Calli, what about you? What are you drinking?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said. "I probably won't tonight."

"Oh, damn," he said. "Well, what about a shot? Will you do a shot with me?"

"Hmm," she said, screwing her face up in thought. "Maybe, if you're nice."

He grinned. "I'll keep it clear, if you want."

"And preferably something with flavor."

"Like a vodka?" Natalie probed, already reaching below the bar.

Percy retched on instinct.

"Um, maybe not," Calli said.

"No," Percy insisted, "I can do vodka–"

"Oh, what about tequila?" Calli said, tapping Percy on the arm. "I don't mind tequila."

"Yeah, sure," he said. Natalie got out three shot glasses and poured.

"Hey, what about us?" Marcus cried. Kostas and Brionne scoffed and clutched their hearts in mock betrayal.

"I think you should pace yourself," Percy teased. "Give the last shot some time to settle in."

Marcus scoffed, then hiccupped again. "Oh, and what about you?"

"I can handle my liquor."

"Come on, you just did a shot with me. Why don't you pace yourself?"

Kostas pulled gently on his friend's shoulder. "Easy…" he said with a forced laugh.

"And tell me that's not Shipwreck in your glass right now. What are you on, your third? Fourth?"

"Just his third," Natalie said.

"Hey," Percy protested, "this is how much I need to get on the same level as you."

"Yeah, watch your tongue, Marcus," Natalie teased, seemingly trying to lighten the mood. "The captain here has to fight an uphill battle to get drunk. On two fronts! It's not easy being both a son of Poseidon and an alcoholic."

Percy's blood ran cold. "What did you just say?"

Natalie's smile faltered. "Oh, I was–I was just joking," she said.

"No," he said, setting down his drink so forcefully it sloshed onto his hand. "I'm not–I'm not–why would you say that?"

The color drained from her face. "I'm so sorry, Percy, I–I didn't mean…"

"You shouldn't throw that word around," he said.

Marcus leaned over the bar and said, "I think it was just a joke, sir. She didn't mean it literally."

Kostas nodded, fixing his anxious eyes on Percy. "My lord, none of us think that."

"And even if you were," Marcus said with an exaggerated shrug, "so what? You've been through some shit. Heroes hit the bottle for less."

Percy took a step back. "I don't abuse alcohol," he insisted, stony-faced. "It's not like that. I only came here to have a good time. I'm not doing anything that everyone else in here isn't also doing."

Kostas flinched at his tone, and even Marcus leaned back, staring at Percy's flaring nostrils. Calli reached over the bar to give him a reassuring touch, but he backed out of her reach.

"Man, fuck this," he muttered, storming off behind a frozen Natalie. The glimpse he caught of her reddened eyes only added to his distress, but he felt he urgently had to get out of there. He ignored all of his friends as he stomped out to the exit, focusing on keeping his breathing in control as he tore off his shirt, the despair rising in him like a building storm front. He was bewildered by his reaction, and that only seemed to exacerbate it.

Back in the sea, he found his breathing to be choppy, and he paused, taking in a long inhale. His exhale was shaky. He tried again, but it seemed to only be getting worse. He looked down at his hands and watched, helpless, while they trembled. As he looked at them, his vision gradually grew blurry, and he balled his hands into fists. Clenching his jaw, he melted into the water and surfaced in the secret grove at the edge of camp, hauling himself up on the edge of the pool to sit.

He breathed in sharply through his mouth, finding his nose to be blocked.

He gritted his teeth so hard he felt they might snap, trying to keep himself from shaking.

He buried his face in his hands.

When he pulled them back, they were wet.