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Percy had never imagined he’d be one of those people who enjoyed an early morning, but here he was. Sleep had only gotten more difficult as he’d gained more memories to haunt him. Being at Camp with the familiar sound of the fountain usually helped, but last night it hadn’t been enough. Chiron turned a blind eye to his and Annabeth’s habit of crawling in to each other’s beds, but last night Annabeth had fallen for her sibling’s pleas for a sleepover.
He knew she hadn’t slept well either. But that’s why they were here now, resting on the beach long before even the Apollo kids were awake. Annabeth shuffled a bit closer, twirling his necklace around her finger again and again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss to the top of hers. “I would’ve done the same thing. You care about people, and it’s one of my favorite things about you.”
Annabeth laughed and tucked her face into his shoulder. “That’s cheesy, even for you.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing but the truth.”
“If you say so,” she said. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Percy felt the shift before the wind picked up. It was subtle, not quite a storm, but close. The sun still wasn’t up, but there was a gloomy light coming over the horizon, green and almost sickly.
“Is something wrong?” Annabeth asked, picking up his sudden tension.
He smelled the air. “Nothing yet,” he said. “Just feels like a storm’s coming on. Any chance you’ve checked the weather forecast recently?”
She snorted. “We both know that doesn’t mean anything.”
“Let me pretend.”
Annabeth shoved his shoulder and sat up, trying to get a better look. “Do you think it’s your dad?”
Percy shrugged. “Could be,” he said. “But it could be anything, really.”
“You’re really clinging onto pretending, aren’t you?” she asked. “You might want to give up on that sooner than later.”
“Why?”
She pointed out in front of them. “Look.”
Percy blinked twice, three times, unsure if he wanted to see what he was seeing. “Is that my dad?”
“I’d say so,” Annabeth nodded. “Good luck with that?”
“What?” he asked, standing up and looking down at her. “You’re not coming with me?”
She accepted his offered hand and stood up to join him. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Seaweed Brain.”
Annabeth didn’t need to follow him very far.
Poseidon was waiting for them where the water met the sand, wearing his usual Hawaiian shirt and a Margaritaville branded fisherman’s hat. He didn’t seem angry, and nothing particularly divine was pouring off of him in waves.
They took another step forward. “Hey dad,” he said. “Uh, what brings you here?”
The odd look on Poseidon’s face didn’t go away, and the God let out a heavy sigh. “We’ve lost a good one.”
Confusion rose. Percy looked toward Annabeth, but she appeared just as lost as he felt.
“Lost what?” he asked. “Can we help?”
Poseidon shook his head and let out another, heavy sigh. Before Percy or Annabeth could say anything else, he started marching toward Camp.
Percy waited a few moments as his mind processed everything that had just happened. Technically, he knew it wasn’t much, but that didn’t make it any less confusing.
“Uh,” he started. “Any idea what’s going on?”
“Not at all,” Annabeth answered, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Do you think we should follow him?”
She snorted. “No matter if we do or don’t, twenty bucks says we get caught up in whatever’s going on. I say we follow him to keep from wasting all of our time. Gods know we don’t need you dad being annoyed we’re late on top of whatever else this is.”
“Are you saying my dad’s emotional?”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Annabeth said, her grin telling him she knew exactly what else she’d dare to do.
She lead the way, and what choice does Percy have but to follow? He’d hoped for a quiet day after so little sleep, but he rarely got what he wanted. He wasn’t sure why he even tried anymore.
Poseidon, it seemed, was on a mission. The God didn’t stop to look around, not even in the face of the nervous campers. There weren’t many who were up this early, but with how gossip flew among Demigods, it was only a matter of time before everyone else was roused to find out what, exactly, one of the Big Three was doing here.
“It’s fine,” Percy called out to the young child of Apollo who was staring at him with wide eyes. “Go back to your cabin. We’ll be sure to let everyone know if something is going on.”
The kid blinked once before nodding and running away. He looked toward Annabeth, who only shrugged. It seemed she was as lost as him, and that was rarely a good sign.
They followed as Poseidon made his way to the Big House. Percy’s confusion grew when they spotted Mr. D waiting out front with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I was wondering if you’d show up,” Mr. D spat out. He looked gloomier than Poseidon, but Percy could never tell if that was because he constantly looked like he needed the hair of the dog, or if he was genuinely feeling something. “If anyone cared, I figured you’d have a chance.”
Poseidon frowned. “Of course I’m here,” he said. “It’s not just you, you know.”
Mr. D made a discontented noise, but a little bit of the aura of doom faded away. Incoming crisis, hopefully averted.
Except that Poseidon didn’t say anything. He just matched Mr. D’s posture, crossing his arms over his chest and staring ahead sullenly.
“You know,” Annabeth muttered. “I sometimes forget how much like your dad you look. But in moments like this? Wow.”
Percy shoved against her shoulder. “Whatever.”
“You know I’m right,” she said, smiling at him. “How long do you think we give them before we ask them what’s going on?”
Percy mentally counted to five. “I’m too impatient for this.”
“Mood.”
The gathered campers parted for him and Annabeth when they stepped forward. Deciding to keep a relatively safer distance, Percy stopped when they were a couple feet away from Poseidon and Mr. D. “So,” he said. “Should I be concerned? I feel like things usually involve me.”
Mr. D. scoffed. “Your ego is painfully undeserved.”
Percy just stared at him.
His dad sighed another one of those worrying sighs. “In this instance, it does not involve you.”
“It should!” Dionysus said. “You’ve lost a legend and you don’t even know it! Look at all of you, crowding around, waiting for our attention. You should all be paying your respects!”
Percy looked toward Annabeth, hoping for an answer, but she just blinked at him.
Movement to his side caught his attention. Poseidon removed his fisherman’s hat from his head and held it to his chest. “Jimmy Buffett,” he murmured. “May he rest in peace.”
“You’d think in these trying times that Father dearest might lift the ban,” Mr. D said, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear him as he looked upward with a pleading expression, like he actually hoped Zeus would pause his punishment for this.
Instead, a bolt of lightning shot across the sky.
Mr. D groaned.
“Jimmy Buffett?” Percy asked, something hot crawling up his throat. He vaguely recognized the name, but the pieces falling into place weren’t forming an image he was the least bit fond of. These were the same Gods who discarded their own children without a tear, and here they were, acting as if the world was ending. “Isn’t he mortal? You’re throwing a pity party because some random mortal died?”
Mr. D threw his hands up. “You wouldn’t get it,” he said. “Yes, mortals are nothing. But guess what, sometimes we pick favorites! We all know the story of Odysseus, why is this news to you?”
Next to him, Annabeth frowned. Odysseus’ myth hung over her like a heavy weight sometimes.
A heavy arm settled on his shoulder and pulled him in close before he could begin to process this. “I just thought he was fun,” Poseidon said. “He brought the romance of piracy and the seas to a mostly elderly population of largely midwesterners. It’s charming, but it’s the sort of thing that’s more noticeable in this modern age.”
Annabeth’s eyes flashed. She’d obviously made sense of something, and Percy would just have to wait to be blessed by her wisdom.
“But he’d want us to celebrate,” Poseidon said. “Here, take this.”
Percy accepted the drink handed to him out of sheer confusion more than anything else. It looked like a blue frozen margarita, adorned with one of those cheesy paper umbrellas. Despite himself, Percy was oddly touched Poseidon had given him blue.
Annabeth looked between the drink and the Gods. “The sun’s not even up.”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Mr. D sneered. “Pay your respects and drink up, because I can’t.”
Two sips of the margarita found Percy sharing a loveseat with Annabeth in the Big House while Poseidon and Mr. D both claimed chairs for themselves. A part of Percy felt warm and fuzzy seeing that Poseidon’s drink matched his own, even if much more of it was already ingested.
Chiron took one look at the four of them and looked like he was on the verge of either a breakdown or a revelation. “I’ll keep an eye on the Camp.”
No one paid him any mind, and he left the room without another word.
“They don’t make ‘em like Jimmy anymore,” Mr. D said, staring dejectedly at the diet coke he’d poured into a margarita glass. “There’s always those that catch our eye—”
“Most become our children’s parents,” Poseidon pointed out with a grin.
Mr. D held his drink up. “Cheers to that,” he said. “But honestly, I think this shows we’ve grown.”
Percy snorted. Annabeth emptied her drink and held it out without a word. Neither Poseidon nor Dionysus made a move, but soon it was full again. Percy wasn’t sure how that worked and he didn’t think he wanted to know.
“Just think about it,” Mr. D continued. “We used to smite people who leaned too far into our domains, and here we are, mourning someone who brought people together for love of the ocean and a cheap marg.”
Percy had the feeling he and Annabeth weren’t supposed to be seeing this. Poseidon wasn’t saying anything much, but the fact that he nodded along showed the truth. Jimmy Buffet wasn’t some worshiper, as far as he knew. He was just a mortal man who’d apparently earned a smidgen of the Gods’ appreciation. Maybe it was enough for a man to make people enjoy the simple things in life, when those simple things aligned with the Gods’ will.
He took another sip of his margarita, slowly accepting his fate of drinking with his Dad for the day. He turned his face toward the early morning sun streaming in through the window and slowly let some tension fade away.
Before he could relax too much though, the door slammed open to reveal Apollo with tears streaming down his face.
“Did you hear?” he asked. “How am I supposed to continue on?”
Annabeth held out her own margarita. “The way Jimmy would want you to.”
Apollo sniffled and somehow gracefully tumbled across both of their laps. “Ugh,” he said. “You wouldn’t understand. Our kid’s dead now, but I can tell you stories about this man.”
As the words settle, Percy looked over to Annabeth with wide eyes. With the sun God on top of them like this, it looked like they were in it for the long haul.
“For Jimmy,” he said, holding up his drink. He’d been neutral toward Jimmy Buffet until now, but he had a feeling that, by the end of this day, he wouldn’t be.
“For Jimmy!”