Chapter Text
It wasn’t every day your child went to college.
This, surprisingly, applied to both mortal and immortals. Mortals because this system of higher education was no easy feat, and immortals because their kids didn’t tend to live long enough - or lived too long to see the value in such a thing. Poseidon shouldn’t be surprised that if any of his children could do it, it would be Perseus.
He had been precisely what Poseidon feared he would be. A perfect blend of him and Sally. He had the sarcasm that Poseidon had worried over. The snark, the disobedience, the ridiculously strong will, the very staunch moral compass – everything that a demigod shouldn’t have. And yet, here he was. Alive, intact, and victor of almost every battle thrown his way.
Poseidon knew he was way more fond of him than he should be.
“Dad?”
To the point it drove him to do ridiculously foolish things.
“Percy!” He smiled and looked around the dorm room. Technically, this was Percy’s second year, but Poseidon had enough restraint to stay away during the first. It didn’t hold out. “Don’t look so worried. I have no quests for you,” he said and watched as relief flickered over his son’s face. The look alone made Poseidon want to find every god on Olympus and throttle them for having ever asking his son to do anything.
“Sure,” Percy said and dropped his bag on the ground. “Then… what are you doing here?"
“I can visit, can’t I?”
Percy raised an eyebrow.
“I was under the impression that, legally, you could not.”
Ah. Well. That was maybe a little true. Poseidon felt his grin widened. The door had opened again, revealing two familiar figures.
“Technically, but I’ve never been adept a rule-following,” he said solemnly. Sally froze – eyes widening a bit in alarm at the sight of him. “Just ask your mother. She’s the same way.”
Percy frowned, looking between them warily as Paul took one look at Poseidon and sighed. Perhaps that should upset him, but he found it too funny to be offended. Sally was more of his focus, anyway. Her expression shifted – eyes flaring to life at Poseidon’s bait.
“Bold words for someone who couldn’t steer a boat.”
Poseidon’s grin disappeared.
“You were steering the boat.”
“That isn’t how I remember it,” Sally said easily and kissed Percy’s cheek as she passed, ignoring his bewildered look as she did so. Paul just rubbed his temple as he gave Poseidon a very courtesy nod and clapped Percy on the shoulder.
“Um, what?” Percy asked with a slight frown. “What boat?”
“The one we stole,” Poseidon said with a wave of his hand, curiously looking around the room. His son was expected to stay... in this? It was like a white prison. His uncertainty over the situation was cut off by a choking sound. He turned to find Percy staring at him with wide eyes before turning to his mother.
“The one you... stole?” He repeated. Poseidon tilted his head at him. He was going to ask how that confused him when he noticed Sally looking everywhere but at her son. Oh no. Oh... no. Poseidon felt a jolt of unbridled delight as the realization spread through him.
“You haven’t heard that story,” he said. Sally’s eyes snapped up at him - rage boiling underneath her normally tranquil demeanor. Poseidon grinned. He was a little pleased he could still annoy her so easily. He turned back to Percy. “How do you think your mother and I met?” He asked. Paul was looking between the three of them - clearly torn between intervening and his own curiosity. It looked as if Sally hadn’t mentioned this to him either. Amazing.
“On the beach? She just said you spent the summer together,” he said. “I mean, I figured some of it had to be a lie-“
“Why would you think that?” Sally interrupted, looking genuinely offended Percy hadn’t bought into her half-truths. Percy raised an eyebrow.
“Mom, I was born in August,” he pointed out. Sally’s mouth opened. Then closed again. Her eyes drifted to Poseidon, who smirked at her. “I mean, I know some demigods are born differently than mortals, but you kept saying Estelle came earlier than I did, so that theory is now gone.”
An awkward pause followed. Poseidon cleared his throat, looking at her with teasing expectation. And then:
“I wasn’t about to tell my son I almost got his father killed, okay?!” Sally said, throwing up her hands. Percy blinked. “How would you have framed it? We all made bad decisions! I didn’t ask to be dragged into an illegal oath! I wasn’t even pregnant!”
“This is... growing very concerning,” Paul commented and leaned against Percy’s desk before gesturing between Poseidon and Sally. “Are you not his mother?” He asked. Poseidon figured this was the part he should intervene in. Poor Perseus looked as if someone had just punched him.
“No, she is,” Poseidon said when Sally’s eyes widened. “She meant we hadn’t broken any oaths while we were on the run,” he said. Percy was mouthing the words ‘on the run’ to himself as Poseidon gave his mother an apologetic shrug. Sally leaned against the wall and sighed, staring at him thoughtfully for a few seconds. Her expression softened before grabbing one of Percy’s boxes and opening the top.
“Why were you on the run?” Percy finally asked, looking between them. “From who? How? You made her steal a boat?” He asked Poseidon, a note of accusation hidden underneath the confusion. “I thought you guys at least liked one another,” he said. Poseidon frowned.
“We do,” he assured him. “Or, well, I at least like her,” he said. Paul narrowed his eyes a little at that. Wow. Sensitive. Sally, on the other hand, paused in unpacking one of the boxes to regard him warily.
“I liked you... you know, up until my son went missing for months, and you didn’t do anything about it.”
Ouch.
“If I wasn’t being torn into two different personas, then maybe I could have.”
“Look at that. Two versions of you, and both are equally as unhelpful.”
“I - mom?” Percy said, eyes wide. “Mom, you... you can’t... I don’t think you’re allowed to say that. I mean-” he looked back at Poseidon. Then to Paul, as if he might have an answer. “I don’t understand,” he went with. Sally’s expression shifted immediately into horror.
Poseidon felt a little guilty, too. It was easy to fall back into old habits. He wasn’t sure how it must look to his son, who apparently had very little context to their relationship. He wondered if that should upset him. He understood Sally not saying anything when he was younger. Poseidon had just assumed after he found out he was a demigod...
Sally sighed.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said and let her hands fall away from the box she had unpacked. “We should have talked about this a while ago, but... well, you had stopped asking, and I wasn’t entirely sure how you felt about Poseidon,” she admitted.
Wait. Him? Why was he the scapegoat?
“It’s been a mixed bag,” Percy admitted. Poseidon frowned.
Why was he the scapegoat?
“Okay, well, I...” Sally began and then gave an apologetic look towards Paul. “We met on the beach… technically,” she said, and Poseidon rolled his eyes. “And we did spend the summer together. It just wasn’t as straightforward as I made it out to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was with someone else when we first met. Not romantically!” She added quickly when Percy jerked back. “A friend of mine. She made things, um, complicated. Then Eros got involved, and things got more... complicated.”
Poseidon wasn’t a specialist in human body language, but Paul’s subtle scratch to the neck screamed passive-aggressive.
“You know,” Percy said and shook his head. “If this is going to be a case of mistaken identity or threesomes, then I... don’t really need to know-“
“No!” Sally laughed and then looked at Poseidon. “No, of course not. You know what? Your father will explain it all,” she said. Poseidon blinked. He would what now? “I mean, you visited to see your son, right?” She asked and gently pushed Percy towards him. “There you go. Father-son time. I’m going to grab more boxes.”
Traitor. He should have known she would throw him under the bus. Percy looked so incredibly uncomfortable by the development that Poseidon considered just making a pact with him to say they discussed it and then go fishing.
It wasn’t like anything horrible had happened, though. He only pushed his mother off of a cliff once. It had been a life or death situation! She forgave him. Sort of. Maybe. Well...
His plan was ruined by Paul also sitting down. Poseidon, Sally, and Percy turned to him in unison.
“...what? It’s a story of a god meeting a mortal! I’m an English teacher. What do you want from me?” He asked. Sally rolled her eyes but didn’t argue as a fond smile hinted at her lips. Without another word, she slipped outside of the dorm room. Poseidon could have sworn she stuck her tongue at him as she went.
Poseidon wondered if Perseus had any idea how evil his mother secretly was. Sure, she had changed tremendously from that first meeting on the beach, but... he still saw whispers of the same temper there.
He turned to find two sets of eyes on him.
Oh, whatever.
“Very well,” he said and leaned back against the wall. “I suppose your mother would try to slander my name if she told it anyway,” he said. Percy looked unconvinced. “Well, to start with, it wasn’t my fault-”
Poseidon should preface this by stating it wasn’t his fault. Not at all. Not really. Sort of. Look, the Fates had clearly planned this with their strings of bad decisions and temptations.
As it was, Poseidon hadn’t even planned on visiting Montauk. That in itself was because the beach was… not up to standard. Poseidon grimaced at the state of it – feeling a smidge of annoyance at how careless these mortals were with his domain. He missed being an actively worshipped god. Back in Greece and Rome, no one would dare dirty up even a puddle under his protection for fear of his wrath.
In theory, he could still punish these mortals for their lack of respect… but it hardly had the same effect when he knew they would chalk it up to chance or accident before continuing with the same behavior. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Maybe he should listen to Zeus the next time he suggested starting from scratch. Perhaps wiping the world clean was what they needed at this point. He knelt to touch the sand when a laugh caught his attention - dancing through the wind. Oh no. He risked a glance up.
“Hi!” A woman called, waving brightly at him. Oh no. This wasn’t promising. The woman came closer, dragging another girl with her as Poseidon braced himself. He had made a pact. An oath. An oath which he would honor. No mortals – even very pretty ones who both had bags of trash and were clearly working to take care of his domain.
“Hello,” he said cautiously and stood as the woman let go of her friend and placed a hand on her hips, looking him up and down for a moment. Whatever she was looking for was apparently found because she gave an approving nod and took a step closer.
“Sorry to bother you, but do you mind helping us with something? We’re trying to grab some plastic bags from the water but can’t reach-“
“We can always try going in the water,” came the surly retort from her friend. “That is an option instead of asking random men who can chop us up and feed us to the sharks.”
“Yes, because going into the water with lots of trash in it is completely safe,” the woman sighed and gave Poseidon a small smile – almost like they were both in on some kind of joke. The sort ‘can you believe her?’ type of look. Poseidon found himself returning it – inwardly panicking at how easily it came.
No. No, pretty mortals. He had promised. He was a god of honor… kind of.
It seemed like such a simple request, though… and they were cleaning the beach. Really, it was his duty to look after this area. One could argue it was his job to help these women – or the one who wanted his help, at least.
“I can’t promise I won’t chop you up and feed you to the sharks, but I will help with the bags,” he said. The woman laughed as her friend narrowed her eyes slightly. “Is asking your name too bold?” He asked. The first woman grinned, eyes sparkling as she gave a flirty little shrug that set off alarm bells as she grabbed her friend’s hand.
“I’m afraid I don’t give my name out to strange men on the beach,” she said, and then gave her friend a wicked grin. “That’s Stella,” she told him, ignoring Stella’s gasp of betrayal. “Sorry, she’s a bit moody. Asking for help is forbidden by her kind,” Mystery Mortal said in a playful whisper. Stella gave a small huff.
“Oh? And what is her kind?”
“I’m a prophet,” Stella said solemnly, lips thinning as Mystery Mortal led them farther down the beach. “I see the secrets of the universe. I also know you’re going to die in three months.”
“You think so?” Poseidon mused. “I don’t know. Rumor has it that I’m awfully hard to kill.”
“My prophetic power is hardly ever wrong.”
“Be nice,” Mystery Mortal cut in, looking back at her with a hint of exasperation. “Sorry, it’s right over here. That space between the dock and water,” she said, pointing to where there were indeed clumps of plastic bags floating between the cracks of the dock. Poseidon nodded and knelt on the damp wood to look closer. It was pretty far down… he willed the water to rise so he could pluck it with ease.
“You make it look too easy,” Mystery Mortal said with a shake of her head, accepting the bags. “Sorry for bothering you.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Poseidon said, picking up the trident he had laid next to him. “I’m glad someone cares about what a mess this place is.”
“Really?” Stella asked, arching a brow. “I don’t see you picking anything up.”
Poseidon looked at her. He was beginning to think that this one didn’t like him. He lifted his hand to show the plastic bags still in his hands.
“What about these?”
“I could have gotten those,” she muttered with a nasty look at Mystery Mortal. Mystery Mortal returned it with a baffled look of her own before turning to smile at Poseidon.
“On that note, we should probably get back to it,” she said dryly and lightly hit Stella’s arm. “Thank you - um, sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” she said. Poseidon smiled.
“I don’t really give my name out to strange women on beaches,” he said. Mystery Mortal’s smile widened as Stella made a face of disgust. “But I suppose for you, I will make an exception,” he said and held out a hand. “I’m Poseidon.”
“Poseidon?” Mystery Mortal asked, accepting his hand. Her touch was calloused for someone who looked so dainty. “Right, Poseidon. I should have known. It suits you,” Mystery Mortal quickly rectified. Stella scoffed. Poseidon looked at her. Usually, mortals never treated him like this. Even in his mortal form, they had been known to sense there was something about him that should be respected.
“You know what?” He asked slowly, and the girls simultaneously turned to him. “Why don’t I help you? Since you so kindly pointed out that I haven’t been doing my share of work,” he said. Mystery Mortal closed her eyes, looking a bit embarrassed by the whole thing.
“That’s okay. We wouldn’t want to impose on the god of the seas himself,” Stella said. Mystery Mortal threw her hands up.
“What is with you today?” She whispered. “Is this about Rich?” She asked but was ignored as Stella continued glaring at Poseidon. He returned it. Who did this random mortal think she was? “If you would like to help, we have extra bags,” Mystery Mortal added to Poseidon, reaching into a straw handbag to hand him one. Poseidon took it pointedly.
“Need me to open it for you?” Stella asked snidely.
…Poseidon had never been more confident he could keep an oath in his life.
Three hours later and the beach was… better. Not clean, but still not as much of a sin as it was. Mystery Mortal made the work much more manageable by singing songs and overall being lovely. Stella made the job harder by… being herself.
“Thanks for the help!” Mystery Mortal told him when they finally got everything to the dumpster. “Want to get a drink?” She asked. Poseidon smiled. Normally, he would be worried that this might lead somewhere, but he was fairly positive that Stella would serve as perfectly capable birth control. Sure enough, she rolled her eyes at the mention of drinks.
“Sure. I’ll pay.”
“See? He’s paying,” Mystery Mortal told her. Stella crossed her arms over her chest.
“Serial killers always do,” she said darkly. “Drug me, and I’ll cut your tongue out,” she warned.
“Killing you would be more work than it’s worth at this point,” he told her.
“Ooh, real witty,” she threw back. Poseidon looked at her. Maybe he could just… throw her off a cliff and wipe Mystery Mortal’s memory. If anyone could get away with murder, it was him. He had gotten away with murder. What was one less mouthy mortal?
“Christ,” Mystery Mortal said, still leading them to some bar a few yards away. It looked a bit rundown, but he suspected the food was good by mortal standards. “We should also come clean about something,” she said and looked pointedly at Stella, who shook her head. “Come on. Not everyone is out to get you.”
“My blood will be on your hands, Ruth,” Stella said darkly. Poseidon brightened. He had a name. “Go ahead and order. I promise to be very nice,” she added. Ruth shook her head before turning to pat a hand on Poseidon’s arm with a sweet smile.
“Sorry. It’s like I said - meeting strange men on the beach can be dangerous. You never want to give out your actual name. I’m Ruth,” she said and gestured to the bar. “I’ll be right back with the drinks,” she said, and disappeared before Poseidon could object. Actual name? She hadn’t given out a name at all. Unless... He turned back to Stella.
“What’s your name then?” He asked. She glowered. “Or don’t tell me. I don’t care.”
“Don’t play innocent,” she said and looked over towards where Ruth was leaning over the bar before pointing a finger at him. “I see your weird fork even if she can’t for some reason. I don’t know what you are, but if you touch my friend, I swear on my dead parents’ graves-“
“You can see my trident?” He asked. Ah. That explained it… sort of. The girl blinked.
“Yes… you’re admitting it’s a fork?”
“No, because it’s not a fork. It’s a trident.”
“Same thing.”
“No. No, it isn’t.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was talking to a fork expert,” she said, throwing up her hands. Poseidon bristled. “Why do you have that? Why can’t other people see it?” She asked. Poseidon considered. He could try manipulating the mist… but based on how she didn’t even try to convince her friend that Poseidon was carrying around a trident, she was used to seeing these things. Clear-sighted mortal, perhaps? He hummed.
“I don’t know if I should tell you. You’re pretty rude.”
“And you’re a creepy guy carrying around an invisible fork.”
“It isn’t invisible,” Poseidon said, waving when Ruth started heading back towards them. “She can see it. She just thinks it’s a surfboard.”
Not-Stella shook her head in disbelief. Was that a challenge? Poseidon smirked at her, shifting the trident slightly with an apologetic look as Ruth approached.
“Sorry,” he said, gesturing to the trident. “I would leave it outside, but it was kind of expensive…”
“Oh, no problem. Do you surf often?” She asked. Poseidon relished the look on not-Stella’s face. Ha. Foolish mortal.
The rest of the night went similarly. Not-Stella being aggressive, Poseidon easily annoying her, and Ruth playing bewildered peacemaker.
“We better get back. Sally actually has a cabin around here-“
“In an undisclosed location,” Not-Stella said fiercely. Poseidon held up his hands mockingly. “Thank you for the drinks,” she added, voice dripping with false sweetness. Poseidon scowled right back.
“You’re welcome, Sally,” he threw back, pleased he had finally caught her real name. Sally blinked – seemingly just realizing this before her brows scrunched together in outrage. Ruth sighed and rubbed her arm with an apologetic look towards Poseidon. He only waved.
She was lucky he was in a good mood. Any other day and he might have smited her on principle alone. As it was, he figured he owed her thanks. Who knows what trouble he might have gotten into with Ruth if her obnoxious, clear-sighted self hadn’t gotten in the way? No pretty mortals. That was the rule.
With that thought on the forefront of his mind, he disappeared into the depths of Atlantis.