i'm so sorry, but i'm updating this part and then won't be posting more chapters for another week or so. most likely longer. i'm completely overloaded and don't have time to set everything aside for a day just to outline a part and then write it, much less spend the next few poring over the chapter during my editing process. i hate that i have to do this to you again. it's the complete opposite of what i want, i swear.
it's a break, not a sign-off. i promise.
i'll still be reading my notifs and responding to comments, but until i get a minute to finally breathe without stressing about my assignments and college apps, this book is on pause. if possible, i'll try to keep updates on my profile.
i love you guys. i'll be back soon :)
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"I told you he had a brig."
Annabeth ignores Percy (who currently sits in the corner of his cell, his fists clenched so his knuckles have become white), tapping her foot furiously against the floor as she looks outside the porthole window in her cell. This level of the yacht is just above sea level, creating a boring expanse of dark blue as the main thing she can see. However, across the horizon, a thin spot of bright yellow appears, bringing the light of the dawn with hope trailing just behind.
An idea sparked in her mind, Annabeth turns on her heel, taking a deep breath while walking over to her cell's bars and bouncing lightly on her toes. She shakes out her shoulders, closing her eyes to compose herself as she goes still.
Percy watches from the shadow of his corner, an eyebrow raised with intrigue.
Annabeth opens her eyes, her irises changing from the equivalent of a dark and stormy sky to a light, clear grey. She grips the bars in front of her, widening her stance and pulling towards her body with all her strength. A grunt of exertion accompanies the creaking of metal, and she pivots her base foot, muscles straining with the effort.
Her eyes flash yellow, matching the rising sun outside for a brief moment as she wills her enhanced strength to break the thin, measly bars that keep her prisoner. She lets out a yelp of surprise as the ship rocks on a particularly rough wave, causing her to lose her grip and fall on her behind.
The cell's door appears to vibrate with an otherworldly energy, and Annabeth stares in exasperation, breathless and strained from her fruitless effort, as the metal bars become a fraction thicker.
"You have got to be kidding me," she complains, standing up once more. Examining the reinforced door, she looks down to the backplate of the lock, noticing that it hasn't been visibly affected by the magic that strengthened the bars.
Tyson notices this from his own cell, striding over to his door and sending a punch to the backplate, its strength rivalling Annabeth's. The daughter of Athena jumps, startled, at the loud noise that follows, and she looks eagerly to his door in the hopes that the section is weaker than the rest and easily broken.
Her excitement diminishes upon seeing the unaffected metal, and it further vanishes when Tyson's door hums with magic, strengthening itself much like hers did moments prior. She groans in frustration, turning around and sitting with her back to the bars that separate her cell and Percy's.
Tyson looks at her with sympathy, shrugging as he tries to reassure her. "It was a good thought, though."
She ignores him, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her forearms on top of them.
Tyson sighs quietly, sitting in the corner closest to his cell's door with his back resting against the wall. He fiddles with his fingers to pass the time, barely noticing a glare as it bores into his skull.
Annabeth grits her teeth, turning her head to look at Percy. He glances at her, his face cold and hard, shrouded in darkness. His expression conveys hatred and fury, his eyes less of their typical sea-green and instead a murky blue.
Annabeth understands the reason for his emotions, and she sighs, looking back in front of her. "(Y/N) will be fine," she reassures, for herself along with Percy.
He doesn't respond, merely looking back to his cell door, his muscles tensing at the thought of Luke being around her without anyone else there. That bastard had wanted her to be his partner for such a long time, and while (Y/N) is more than capable of taking care of herself, Percy can't help but think about the worst-case scenarios.
Annabeth looks at him briefly, noticing his newer stiffness, and she returns her attention to Tyson. The question that has pulled at her for the entirety of the past few days grows so much in strength that although she knows better than to voice it, it seems to speak itself into existence. "How can you trust him?" she whispers, and Percy lifts his head slightly, giving her his attention. "He was probably making all that noise on purpose," she continues, her voice growing angrier. "He wanted Luke to catch us, and now we're gonna be a Manticore's breakfast."
Percy furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head slightly. "What do you have against Tyson, anyway?"
Annabeth scoffs quietly, turning her head to him with narrowed eyes. "Don't act like you haven't been apprehensive, either," she retorts.
"Yeah, well, he's my half-brother that appeared out of the blue. Sorry for being a little bit uncomfortable with him acting like we've known each other our whole lives," Percy responds with lackluster emotion, rolling his eyes. "You, however, don't seem to have a valid reason."
Annabeth faces forward once more, glaring at Tyson through the bars that separate their cells. "He's a Cyclops!" she says, struggling to keep her voice low.
Percy chuckles darkly. "Congratulations, you've stated the obvious."
Annabeth rolls her eyes.
"But I think the politically correct term is 'ocularly impared'." Percy's voice carries no trace of humor as he quotes his best friend, and Annabeth again meets his bored gaze.
"Who cares?" she whispers, barely noticing Percy raise his eyebrow in the shadow of his corner. "They're monsters; they're vicious and dangerous."
Percy's eyes move over to the cell on the other side of Annabeth's, watching as Tyson tries to make shadow puppets with the gradual morning light that seeps in through his cell's window. He manages a half-decent rabbit, making it hop around the cell opposite his as he grins widely.
"Yeah," Percy looks back to Annabeth, "because that's definitely vicious."
The girl doesn't respond, instead looking outside her window with a clenched jaw.
A Cyclops killed Thalia all those years ago.
What guarantees are there that this one won't be any different?
Percy stares at the bars on his door for so long that they begin to blur, his focus running wild as the rocking of the boat gently sways his body. In the midst of his mind's wandering, however, every thought and idea is about (Y/N).
He worries about how Luke could be trying to win her over, how he could be hurting her, how he might be touching her or forcing her to kiss him. He reminds himself about his responsibility—the one he currently feels to have failed at—to keep her safe, to ensure she feels comfortable, to put himself in harm's way instead of her. He curses the world for not letting him be there with her, for not guaranteeing her well-being, for not keeping her far away from the dangers of this quest in the first place.
And in the darkness of his cell, all he wants is to hold her.
"We need to get out of here," he says, standing and walking over to his door.
"How?" Annabeth asks, not even bothering to get up as she looks at him.
Percy gently clasps the bars, looking down at the padlock before along the thin hallway that separates his row of cells from those across the room. Aligned with the divider between Tyson's and Annabeth's doors is a pillar, and on that very pillar are hooks; Luke's cronies hung the trio's backpacks on them. Percy's focus seems to zoom in on his worn-down, blue-grey one as it swings gently with the yacht's movement.
Luckily, a certain god gifted Percy with a Matter Eliminator (that happens to be much needed at the moment), which resides in that very backpack.
"Just hang on to something," he says, a smile tugging at his lips.
In the yacht's outdoor saloon, Luke walks over to a small table that has a chessboard set up on top. "You remember how to play?" he asks, looking back at (Y/N), who raises an eyebrow.
"You think I'd forget?" she asks, moving over and taking a seat opposite him and behind the black pieces. "You bored me to death for weeks on end in the hopes that I'd learn."
Luke chuckles, adjusting a few chessmen on the board before leaning back in his chair. "It's nice to see you warming up to my company," he says, almost jokingly.
Instead of responding to his statement, she looks down at the board, furrowing her eyebrows when she sees the pieces properly. "How the fuck do you tell these apart?" she asks, holding up two of them. "They all look the same."
Luke shakes his head in amusement, pointing at the chessmen in her hand. "This one's a pawn, and that's a knight."
"No, this is an hourglass, and this is a just-a-bit bigger hourglass. That goes on for thirty more pieces."
"They're different, (Y/N)."
"They don't look it," she grumbles, setting the pawn and knight back into their respective places and swapping the places of her king and queen (which, to her, just look like the set's tallest hourglass and a slightly shorter hourglass). "You set this up wrong."
"I didn't play last," Luke shrugs. "Evander did."
"Well, Evander's stupid."
Luke laughs, and the corner of (Y/N)'s lips quirks upward as she tries to determine and remember which pieces are which. She leans back in her chair, satisfied, and gestures for Luke to make his move.
He pushes his king's pawn forward two squares, and (Y/N) doesn't even think before moving after his typical opening. She pushes the pawn in front of her queenside bishop two squares, and Luke lifts his eyebrows.
"The Sicilian," he says, meeting her eye. "Old habits die hard."
She just shrugs.
Luke chuckles, moving his queen's pawn up two squares to expand his opening, placing it next to his first and diagonal to (Y/N)'s pawn. He looks up at her, challenging her memory and intellect with a smirk.
"Of course you go for that gambit," she mumbles, and Luke's smirk turns into a smile.
"You remember," he says, his words fond, and (Y/N) lets out a soft, somewhat bitter, chuckle.
"I never learned, did I? You always beat me that way," she reminisces, making Luke's eyes go soft with adoration.
He waits as (Y/N)'s eyes flit back and forth on the board, her mentally going through the different possibilities of play before refusing the gambit. She pushes her queen's pawn forward one space instead of taking Luke's piece, defending her first pawn should Luke choose to capture it.
Luke grins, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. "Now we have a game."
They continue to play for another few minutes, only stopping when the board slides along the table, following the movement of the yacht as it tilts to the side. Luke furrows his eyebrows at the sudden shift in the waves' dynamic, but (Y/N)—instantly understanding the situation and mentally complaining about her new lack of time—sets her rook down. A soft 'click' sounds as its magnet connects to the board.
"That's check," she says, dismissing any expressions of potential concern and bringing her opponent's attention back to the game.
Luke hums in thought, moving to defend his king before the boat rocks again, causing the chessboard to slide in the other direction. He pauses, looking out across the saloon to the spray of seawater that falls on the floor. "Come with me to the wheel," he says, warily setting his bishop down and standing up. "I don't think this is natural."
It most certainly was not.
Down in the brig, Percy has his eyes closed, kneeling with his fingertips pressed firmly on the floor. He fights to keep his focus, tightening his control over the waves under the boat.
"Okay," Annabeth breathes out, "here we go." She reaches between the bars, extending her arm as far as it can go to reach for Percy's backpack. Her fingertips get close to the fabric when it swings towards, but not close enough to touch. "Come on, come on, come on," she wills, grunting softly as she stretches her arm even more.
Percy's body tenses as he grits his teeth, struggling to control such a large body of water for such an extended and continuous time.
Tyson grips the bars between his and Annabeth's cells, slightly terrified. "Um, what's going on?" he asks, exclaiming in surprise as he nearly loses his footing.
The boat hits a particularly rough wave, and Annabeth yelps as she gets thrown back into the wall of her cell. She groans at the impact, rubbing her head with frustration. "Percy's trying to kill us."
Tyson gasps when his window slams open, sending a spray of water in his direction before it closes again, and his breaths become shallow with fear. "I think it's working!"
Percy's veins begin to rush with blood, his neck growing red as he commands another onslaught of large waves to form. He lets out a sharp breath, opening his eyes to reveal irises of a luminescent blue-green.
The backpack swings off of its hook, sliding across the floor, and Annabeth gasps. Hurriedly crawling over to the door, she sticks her arm through a space in the bars, narrowly missing the bag before she grabs it. Her breaths are heavy, and she sighs in relief.
Percy's eyes dim, and he looks at her. "You got it?" he asks, letting go of his control over the water, which begins to calm.
Annabeth shakes her head slightly, resting her forehead against the metal. "Piece of cake," she pants, grunting as she adjusts her arm.
Tyson stares, wide-eyed, at her and the bag, his stomach churning. "I think I'm gonna vomit," he says, pausing a moment before: "Yep." He turns around, running over to his window and nearly leaping onto his tiptoes.
Percy cringes as his half-brother retches outside of the boat, his head stuck through the porthole before he drops back down to stand properly.
Annabeth steadies the backpack with her left hand, withdrawing her right from between the bars and readjusting her hold so she can find the Matter Eliminator. "Got it," she says, pulling it out of the main pocket and placing it in Percy's hand that reaches through and around his door. "Okay, so how does this work?"
"I don't know." Percy shrugs, looking down at the tape dispenser. "It's my first... mythical tape gun." He fiddles around to find the edge of the tape, scratching at it with his fingernail before it lifts. "You'd think Hermes could make this a little easier to use," he mumbles, pulling the tape and setting the edge on the left-hand side of his door's backplate. "Let's see."
"Wait, wait," Annabeth says, and Percy pauses, looking to her with confusion. She points at the backplate, frowning at the tape about to be outlined around it. "It'll make a lot of noise if the door has nothing to keep it closed. You know—'clang, clang, clang; oh, what's that? Lets go check to make sure they haven't escaped; oh, they have, now let's kill them'—or whatever. Maybe just create a box or something to step through."
Percy holds in his chuckles at her attempted impersonations of Luke's goons, nodding in understanding. "Good point."
He peels off the end of tape, instead moving it to one of the topmost rows of bars on his cell door.
After creating a rectangle long and wide enough for him to pass through, he cuts the tape, flattening it and stepping back. His eyes widen as the section of the door seems to disintegrate, turning into specks that simply vanish in the air.
Percy sticks his hand through and pauses for a moment, impressed, before stepping out and turning to Annabeth's cell. He outlines the main section of her door as well, creating a similar empty box for her to exit through.
"Matter Eliminator," he chuckles after freeing Tyson, tossing it into the air and catching it. "Pretty neat."
"You know, technically," Annabeth starts, shrugging her backpack on, "matter can't be created or destroyed, so Hermes made a mistake. It's impossible to eliminate it; the atoms are still there."
Percy rolls his eyes in amusement, returning the tape dispenser to his backpack. "All right, Einstein. Let's go," he says, nodding to the door. He looks outside the window, seeing no one, and he quietly pushes it open to avoid creating any noise that might draw someone down.
He freezes upon seeing the sleeping Manticore just a few feet away.
When its snores don't die down, Percy takes that as his sign to step through the doorway. He doesn't worry about his ability to remain quiet with his footsteps, having trained with (Y/N) on perfecting the technique of weight distribution for silence even on the noisiest surfaces. Holding his breath for good measure, he stays close to the wall and sidesteps in order to keep an eye on the monster.
The Manticore growls, snapping its jaw to catch whatever it hunts in its dreams.
Percy hopes it isn't him.
After pausing for certainty, he resumes moving, carefully stepping over the body of the Manticore's tail and ducking under its venomous stinger. Annabeth (holding her breath with widened eyes) and Tyson (pinching his nose as his forehead screws up with disgust) follow just behind, the Cyclops surprisingly even more silent than Athena's daughter.
Percy opens the door, stepping through and ensuring that it gets closed before he takes off in a run, the others following behind. Going up to the main deck, he has to squint before his eyes quickly adjust to the sunlight. Not wasting a moment, he runs up the stairs to the upper deck, moving alongside the captain's station and skidding to a stop when an irritated Chris runs out in front of him.
"Go to the lifeboat," he tells Annabeth, keeping an eye on the son of Hermes. Annabeth and Tyson turn and run away, and Percy takes a step backwards as Chris moves towards him.
It only takes a glance at the water to cause the boat to rock sharply, prompting Chris to lose his balance and fall as Percy, too, stumbles sideways. His body hits the window of the captain's station, and he pulls back when he sees the figures in his periphery.
(Y/N) has fallen into Luke's chest, evidently from the sudden tilt, and the son of Hermes has his arms wrapped around her with a hand on the back of her head and the other securely on her waist.
Both of them turn their heads when movement enters their vision, being met with the sight of Percy, his jaw clenched and eyes swimming with fury.
Along with time, the water suddenly goes still.
The waves are no longer gentle, nor are they raging. They cease to exist altogether. What was once a beautiful and then tormenting sea has become a quiet sheet of glass, not so much as a ripple disturbing the surface.
The clouds overhead gather ominously, covering the area with a darkness that plagues the water below. Blue falls victim to grey, extending out as far as the eye can see.
(Y/N) watches as the beautiful sea-green of Percy's eyes are engulfed by the same tenebrosity, matching the water's hue.
No one seems to be able to move.
Not until she does.
(Y/N) breaks herself out of the unsuspecting Luke's hold, spinning to kick him just below his rib cage. He stumbles back into a wall, gasping slightly in pain. The others in the room jump into action, running at (Y/N) in the hopes of restraining her.
Percy snaps back to attention when something moves in his periphery, and he ducks just before Chris gets the chance to send a deadly punch to his temple. Percy takes advantage of his angle, elbowing the older boy in the gut and causing him to keel over. The son of Poseidon rolls his eyes before standing up properly to uppercut him in the nose, kicking his feet out from under him just after.
Percy shakes out his hand, blinking at the blood that flows out of the pitiful Chris' nose. "Whoops," he mumbles, looking back inside the window to see if (Y/N) needs any help.
Obviously, she doesn't.
He's seen her fight on multiple occasions, but regardless of the situation, he never fails to admire the beauty of her skill. (Y/N) easily moves through her attackers, getting closer to the door that leads onto the upper deck with each second. On her way, she slides an ornate crystal dagger off one of the tables in the room, flipping it into the air before cutting across someone's bicep. They cry out in pain, holding the area to staunch the blood, and (Y/N) kicks them behind the knees to get them out of her way.
Without wasting another second, she runs out onto the deck, putting her new dagger in the sheath on her thigh.
"Let's get out of here, yeah?" Percy asks, joining her in her escape.
"I'm not complaining!"
"Kill the engines!" Luke orders, his very much beaten-up captain complying.
As she and Percy run onto the main deck, (Y/N) turns when something clutches her ankle. Her eyes widen as Chris yanks her leg out from under her, and she hurriedly twists to land on her back.
Softly grunting at the impact sent to her head, she ignores the dull throb of pain and twists her ankle out of Chris' hold. She lifts herself onto her forearms, pushing her body up and spinning around as she does so. Unluckily for her assailant, she lands a hook kick directly on his already-broken nose, landing in a kneeling crouch before Percy helps pull her to stand.
Near the lifeboat, Annabeth and Tyson are stopped by Ethan Nakamura jumping over the edge of the upper deck to land in front of them. Another demigod runs to Annabeth from the side as Ethan attacks Tyson, the daughter of Athena easily maneuvering around her assailant and striking his larynx. He falters, allowing her to judo flip him as Ethan gets thrown overboard by Tyson's strength alone.
In Percy and (Y/N)'s haste to escape, they get cut off by Evander as he runs to be level with them on the upper deck. (Y/N)'s eyes widen as he extends a collapsible staff, and she grabs Percy's arm, guiding him behind her as she backs away.
As Evander quickly approaches, Percy brings (Y/N) with him, running up the main windshield and pulling himself over the border's edge and level with the outdoor saloon. The half-bloods' skin bristles with cold as they run past the covered sarcophagus, each of them ducking under punches and other strikes before the six attacking members of Luke's gang circle around them. The two stand back-to-back, breaths slightly heavy as they assess their situation.
"You think it's time to perfect that drill?" (Y/N) asks, flexing her fingers.
"Not like we have much of a choice," Percy pants in response, getting into his ready position.
(Y/N) nods, shaking out her shoulders and watching the surrounding demigods warily. "Seven-twenty," she reminds, and Percy grins with anticipation.
"Now!"
They each fake a left before running towards the demigods diagonal to them on their right, catching them off-guard. After realizing what's happening, the other four members jump into the fray, giving Percy and (Y/N) each three people to defend against.
They don't struggle with it, sometimes pushing an opponent to the other's side for them to finish dealing with before (Y/N) spots an opening. "The roof, Percy!" she calls out, kicking a girl away from her and pointing to the sloped wall that closes them in.
Percy flips the demigod he recognizes to be Alabaster Torrington, a son of Hecate, before running over and swinging himself onto the ramp-like top edge of the wall. (Y/N) ducks under a staff, elbowing its owner in the gut before following just behind him. After ensuring his footing on the roof is steady, Percy pulls (Y/N) up and holds her to him briefly.
"Did I say it's good to see you?" he mumbles before letting her go and backing away from the edge.
"You just did," (Y/N) breathes out, chuckling.
"What were you doing, anyway?" he asks, passing behind her in his search for an escape, more demigods congregating and watching them anticipatedly.
"Playing chess, gaining trust, buying time—the whole deal. I was trying to get a tour of the place so I could break you out."
"Sorry for ruining your plan; I got impatient."
"Of course you did."
Percy chuckles. "Did you win, at least?"
"Nearly. Would've been a mate in six," (Y/N) responds. She moves closer to the edge, seeing no way off without being attacked again by the gathering demigods on the level below.
"We got 'em!" Evander calls out, turning his head to Luke, who exits from the captain's station.
Luke calmly looks up at the half-bloods, furrowing his eyebrows slightly at the sight of them. "What are you doing?" he asks, making Percy and (Y/N) pause in confusion. "Don't walk on my roof."
(Y/N) looks down over the edge of the yacht, seeing Annabeth and Tyson in the lifeboat as they try to set up the motor to get away. Unfortunately, the Cyclops accidentally drops it into the water.
Annabeth scoffs. "Really?" she asks, frustrated.
Luke remains oblivious, looking up at the demigods standing on his treasured roof. "Join me, Percy, (Y/N)," he says, holding out his arms in welcome.
Percy takes note of the smirk that tugs at the corner of Luke's lips when he says (Y/N)'s name. It vanishes quickly, almost as though it was never there, but Percy understands that look.
Luke did something, he knows something.
"It's what you were meant to do," Luke continues. "You can't escape that prophecy. Let's show our parents that they were wrong to abandon us."
Percy watches as some of Luke's crew set up crossbows with grappling hooks, aiming them at the stationary lifeboat. Annabeth frantically slides her backpack off of her shoulders, digging around for the Thermos of Winds.
"It's tempting," he says, looking back to Luke. "But I think I speak for both of us when I say that I'll pass."
Without hesitation, he lifts a wall of water between the lifeboat and the yacht, and (Y/N) looks down at the conflicted demigods on the other side. "Go!" she yells.
"What, are you staying?" Tyson asks, incredulous.
"We'll be right behind you!" (Y/N) calls back, trying to figure out how exactly they'll actually do that.
They can improvise, it's fine.
Annabeth nods, opening the Thermos and (with a bit of struggle, as the tornado-like formation of wind has a mind of its own) holding it down so the raft speeds away from the larger boat.
As the shadow of the water grows to engulf the yacht and everyone on it, Luke groans in exasperation. "Not this again."
Percy chuckles. "Sorry," he fakes an apologetic tone, cutting his arm across his body. The huge wave knocks everyone off their feet, throwing some overboard, and Percy turns to the girl beside him. "You trust me?" he asks, and (Y/N) looks at him with wide eyes.
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not really!"
Percy grabs her hand, pulling her with him as he takes a running start and leaps off the roof towards the water below. A large wave rises to meet them, catching their feet and circling the yacht before following after the lifeboat. (Y/N) laughs with awe, holding onto him as Percy smiles at her excitement.
(Y/N) loosens her arms, standing up straighter on the almost-solid water and looking back to the yacht. Luke looks right back at her, his jaw clenched and knuckles pale as he grips the railing.
"Sucks for him," Percy says, earning a chuckle from (Y/N).
It turns into a shriek when her feet no longer remain steady on the wave, instead falling through. "Percy!" Her body follows next, hitting the water's surface below with a loud splash and intense pain.
Percy gasps, his wave disappearing as he dives down after her, opening his eyes when submerged. He looks around before finding her, suddenly yards away from where she fell and struggling to swim up to the water's surface.
For some reason, her actions have no effect, her body instead being pulled down to the distant seabed with each second.
Percy swims over to her, noticing that her eyes are wide with pure, raw terror, an emotion he rarely sees. He hooks an arm around her waist, kicking up to the surface, but her body doesn't budge. He tries to propel them both upwards, to pull (Y/N) to the surface, even to part the water around her, but his efforts are futile.
"What is happening?" he exclaims, swimming down with (Y/N) as she sinks even deeper. Noticing her struggles worsen and actions become slow, he begins panicking even more.
Percy can breathe underwater, but (Y/N) can't. She's been holding her breath this entire time, and her intense fight to swim upwards has made her weaker than she should be if there's any hope of getting her to the surface. Percy tries to create a bubble around her head for her to breathe, but yet again, the water doesn't obey his command.
(Y/N) shakes her head, pointing at him and then to the surface, as if saying, 'You go.'
"Absolutely not," he responds, holding her to him once more. He keeps trying to pull her up with him, but the water resists, holding her tighter and causing him to let go against his will.
(Y/N) looks around, noticing her surroundings grow darker as she gets taken farther away from the surface. She meets Percy's eyes, memorizing their color just in case it's the last thing she gets to see.
Grabbing his hand, she presses a kiss to the back of it before giving him an apologetic smile, letting go and surrendering to hope and chance.
Percy watches with horror as she closes her eyes, exhaling so the water pulls her limp body away from him even quicker. He frantically swims down to her, pushing himself away in surprise when her eyes open—overtaken by a flash of, not gold, but electric blue, before they glow a brilliant red.
The darkness of the water stretches towards her, swirling around her body before they join to form a mass of shadow. It shoots up to the light, and Percy instantly follows, water swirling around his legs like a tornado to form a waterspout and propelling him upward to break the surface. He looks around for the shadows, noticing them continue to push towards the sky and away from the sea before they lose their appearance, turning once again into the form of a human.
(Y/N) plummets, her eyes closed and body limp, and Percy pushes himself forward, reaching just in time to catch her. "I gotcha." He holds her to his chest, bridal style, and supports her with one arm as he cups her cheek. "Hey," he says, pushing strands of hair off of her soaked skin and gently trailing his fingers along her cheekbone. "(Y/N)?" She trembles, shivering from the wind that passes around them from the waterspout combined with her soaking body.
Percy closes his eyes, laying his hand flat on her stomach and commanding the water to roll off of her skin and seep out of her clothes, drying her off as much as possible. Immediately, he feels her body relax, her head rolling over to lean into the warmth of his chest.
He softly presses his lips to her forehead, trying again. "(Y/N)?"
He nearly cries with relief when she nuzzles closer in response.
Percy strokes her cheek again, prompting her to open her eyes and look at him, clearly exhausted. "Hi, Blue," she mumbles, her lungs weak from her previous lack of air, and she squeezes her eyes shut before blinking in her efforts to stay alert.
"Hey, darling," Percy whispers, the pet name rolling off his tongue without thought. All his worries and concerns from before fade away when (Y/N) smiles.
"I like that." Her gaze is full of nothing other than adoration and gratitude as she looks up at him.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Percy chuckles softly before he leans down to kiss her, careful and sweet. (Y/N) hums, wrapping her arms around his neck before pulling away to slump her head against his shoulder.
"But on another note, I think your dad is trying to kill me."
Percy's expression darkens.
He adjusts his hold on her, keeping her far away from the water that circles his legs. "I think you may actually be right about that," he says, making the waterspout push him forward, catching up with the lifeboat in the distance.
When they get side-by-side, he carefully jumps off, and Annabeth's forehead creases with worry at (Y/N)'s state. "What happened?" she breathes out, wanting to move over but unable to as she holds Thermos steady.
Percy sits next to Tyson, who scoots over to allow room. Percy flashes him a grateful smile, keeping (Y/N) on his lap as she leans against him. "She used her Hades side," he answers, hugging her closer. "Did we bring any ambrosia?"
Annabeth shakes her head, visibly disappointed in herself. "Grover always did. I never thought to."
"I have some sugar cubes," Tyson offers, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the remaining three.
(Y/N) lifts her head from Percy's shoulder, smiling weakly and sticking out her arm. "Yes, please."
Tyson smiles, placing them in her outstretched hand.
Percy chuckles lightly. "That's smart, by the way," he tells Annabeth, nodding to the Thermos in her hands.
She grins. "Goddess of wisdom's daughter, remember?"
(Y/N) playfully rolls her eyes, her words muffled as she talks around a sugar cube, "We all know you're better than us, Annie, there's no need to flaunt it in our faces."
"I wasn't flaunting it!" Annabeth protests, but she laughs all the same.
"Of course not."
"I wasn't!"
Percy raises an eyebrow. "Weren't you the person going on about how 'matter can't be created or destroyed; blah, blah, blah; atoms and whatnot; ooh-hoo-hoo, Hermes was wrong'?"
Annabeth gasps in offense at his imitation, fighting another laugh. "That wasn't flaunting!"
"'You know, technically'—"
"Shut up, Percy."
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