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Chapter Text

Being the demigod son of Poseidon, I've seen a lot of weird things in my life. Still, nothing could've quite prepared me for what I came across earlier today: some weird blue animal about knee height that moved incredibly fast, an animal that could best be described as a hedgehog. That's right: a sonic hedgehog.

There I was, sitting on the pier, waiting for my girlfriend to join me, when suddenly this streak of blue fur plowed straight into me, knocking me into the water. Fortunately, I don't actually get wet unless I want to, being the son of the sea god and all. I floated there, perfectly dry, watching as the blue hedgehog continued to run... across the water? Well, that was new. Little did I know that wouldn't be the strangest thing I saw today.

"Yeah, you run away, you coward! We don't need you anyway. All we need is a nice, big plate of lasagna... with seven--no, eight, layers, of cheese, and meat, and pasta and sauce and more cheese.... ooooooo..."

This would've creeped me out if it had just been some mortal talking. Only, there wasn't any person standing on the dock. The only thing in sight was a cat -- and a big, orange, fat one at that.

I heaved myself back up onto the pier. I looked down at the cat, who was lying on its back with its eyes closed and drooling. I cleared my throat, and the cat's eyes snapped right open.

"Yeah? Who you lookin' at?"

After stuttering incomprehensibly for a few seconds, I eeked out something eloquent along the lines of, "Ca--talking cat??"

The cat rolled its eyes. "Yeah, get over it. Name's Garfield, don't wear it out. And that jackass," he pointed a paw in the direction where the blue hedgehog had disappeared into the distance, "is a lazy piece of rat droppings who doesn't understand responsibility. Here I am, PREGNANT, with his kittens, and he literally runs away from his responsibilities, just like he does everything else in his life." He must have noticed me staring at him weird, because then he said, "What? You think it's weird I can have kittens? Close-minded, much? I need pasta."

The cat -- Garfield -- lumbered down the dock, tail flicking in annoyance. He had almost reached the end when he suddenly paused, his large form shuddering. It almost looked like he was... crying? Did cats cry? I was about ready to dismiss this entire afternoon as a case of bad oysters, but a small part of me felt sympathy for this strangely talkative feline and his unborn kittens. I knew what it was like to grow up with a single parent, not knowing who my father was. I approached the cat.

"Umm, sorry to, er, bother you. But is there any way I can help?"

Garfield sharply glared at me, but then shook his head, his anger draining away. "No. He's long gone across the water by now. It would be impossible to catch him, and even if I were to try, cats don't fare well in water."

An idea came to me. "Well," I said, "luckily I do. My girlfriend is going to kill me for blowing her off, but how about we go get your hedgehog and talk some sense into him?"

TO BE CONTINUED???

Chapter Text

"Where exactly are we going, again?" I asked the irritable orange feline as we made our way down one of the less savory avenues of Manhattan -- and that was saying something.

"You said we needed a tracker, right? Well, I'm taking us to one -- for better or worse," Garfield grumbled the last part mostly to himself, turning his head from side to side as we slowly continued forward.

After I'd offered to help him go after his no-good hedgehog husband, I'd quickly realized that while I could get us across the water no problem, I didn't exactly have a way to track where the speedy blue guy had gone. I could ask a nereid, sure, but they weren't the most reliable sources. Luckily, Garfield knew a guy. And apparently he was somewhere down a sketchy New York alley… Maybe the nereids wouldn't have been so bad after all.

Lost in thought, I fell behind and somehow managed to lose track of the massive bright orange tabby.

"Hey, Peter Johnson, you coming?"

Ah, I knew that cat reminded me of someone.

I made my way toward the voice, about to correct him -- the least he could do was remember the name of the person who was helping him -- when I stopped short.

"A.. a dog?"

Huddled in a cardboard box off to the side of a dumpster was a small, furry form. A dachshund/terrier mix, by the look of it. I imagined that after a good bath and a trip to the vet, he'd be your picturesque family dog. As it was, the little furball had probably taken its last bath in a puddle of New York muck -- his fur was crusted into clumps, and I noticed more than one fly buzzing around his head. Looking down at his sad little form, I felt a tug on my heart. I’d never had a dog, but I'd always wanted one. When I was younger, I'd brought home more than one stray, hoping to have it as a pet. But we could never keep one in our tiny apartment. My mom would always make sure it got into a good, no-kill shelter, but it still didn't make the separation hurt any less.

"Hey, little guy," I said, kneeling down with my hand outstretched, only mildly concerned about rabies.

Garfield swatted away my hand with a hefty paw. "He doesn't need your sympathy. He needs to stop feeling sorry for himself and hound-up!" he yelled, getting in close to the dog's face. The dog whimpered and retreated further into the box.

"Hey, now," I interjected. "Can't you see that he's sad and scared? That's no way to talk to someone. And 'hound-up'? What even is that? Some sort of toxic animal standard?" I was pretty sure that if Annabeth could hear me, she'd be proud.

"You don't know what you're talking about, water boy," Garfield growled. "This oaf here thinks that he can just slum about New York, not doing anything productive with his life just because our owner -- ex-owner -- Jon, abandoned us. So what? We're better off, I say. Out in the big city, no rules, a world full of Italian eateries. But this pup just let his spirit get broken. Even when things were good between me and Sonic, and I invited him to come stay with us, he refused to get a grip." Garfield rounded on the dog once more. "But you don't have the luxury of moping around anymore, you hear me? Because… because I need you, Odie, you stupid dog, you." For the second time that day, I wondered if cats could cry.

The box rustled, and the dog's -- Odie's -- head popped out. He nuzzled Garfield's face with his nose, then tentatively licked the top of his head.

After a moment or two of this, Garfield shook his head and affectionately batted the side of the dog with a lazy paw. "Oh, alright, you know I can't stay mad at you too long, you mangy mutt. But I still do need your help. Can you do that?" The dog dipped its head in assent.

I figured this was as good a time as any to make introductions. I knelt down so that the dog and I were almost eye to eye.

"Hi, um, Odie, is it? The name's Percy Jackson." I waited.

The dog stared blankly back at me.

Garfield burst out laughing. "Wait, did you think that mutt could talk? Are you crazy? Whoever heard of a talking dog?"

TO BE CONTINUED…

Chapter Text

After grabbing Odie a bite to eat from a nearby hot dog stand -- I tried not to think about the questionable ethics of this -- we made our way back to the dock where I'd first met Garfield earlier that day. The dock where his hedgehog husband had quite literally run away, out across the water and far away from responsibility. As someone who'd grown up without a real father figure most of my life (Smelly Gabe didn't count in my book), I couldn't help a budding sense of anger curdling in the pit of my stomach. I could tell that Garfield was feeling none too happy, either. As soon as the ocean came into sight, his mood almost visibly shifted. He went from daydreams of lasagna one moment to utter silence the next.

Odie, for his part, appeared oblivious to the tension and had been downright chipper since filling his empty belly. I wondered if my mom's new apartment building allowed dogs.

I rented a small paddle boat from a nearby stall along the shore and rowed it over to the side of the dock Sonic had run off, with Garfield and Odie seated across from me. I could always summon my own ride, sure, but I doubted Odie and Garfield would fare well on a hippocampus. While Odie seemed overjoyed at the idea of a boat ride, Garfield's ears laid flat on his head as his claws gripped the wooden bench he was seated on, every muscle tense.

"Alright, Odie," I called, not really sure if I should be addressing the dog. Garfield didn't seem to have a problem communicating with him, but could he understand regular human speech? Were there any type of rules with this sort of thing? I reigned in my thoughts before I spiraled into the whirlpool of questions I'd had ever since meeting the talking orange feline. "This is about where Sonic took off, headed in that direction." I pointed toward the horizon. "I'll start us out headed that way, but we'll need you to tell us if his scent changes course at any point. Got it?"

I looked uncertainly at Garfield, unsure if I'd just wasted my breath. Garfield unclenched a paw and lightly batted Odie's leg. "Hey, mutt, you got that? Smell Sonic. Track. Whatever you dogs do."

Odie barked twice in what I assumed was assent.

"Alright then, let's head out." Making sure that no one was watching, I slid the boat's paddles from their notches along the side of the craft and cast them aside, willing them to sink to the sea floor. I'd come back for them later.

"Uh, don't you need those to, I don't know, make the boat go?" Garfield questioned.

"Not when you have me around," I said with a smirk.

Garfield's claws sank deeper into the bench. "I don't like the sound of tha--"

The boat shot off across the waves and toward the waiting horizon.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Chapter Text

We'd been out to sea for nearly a half hour and Garfield was still tense. I knew that water wasn't necessarily every cat's favorite thing, but I thought he'd at least have settled in after a few minutes of cruising across the waves. I wasn't even making us go that fast; we were moving at a rate more similar to a crew team than a motorboat. Yet Garfield's claws were still extended into the wood of the seat, every muscle rigid. Odie, for his part, seemed to be having the time of his life; he was seated at the front of the boat, eagerly pointing the way with his snout and barking in excitement periodically.

"You can relax, you know. Nothing's going to happen to you. I've got this," I said to the hunched ball of orange fluff.

"That's easy for you to say, water boy. Some of us don't exactly know how to swim," Garfield growled back through clenched teeth.

"I promise you, on my honor as a son of Poseidon, on the River Styx itself, that no harm will come to you under my watch," I vowed in the serious voice I used whenever I had to convince Annabeth that this time I wouldn’t break any dishes when I emptied out the dishwasher.

My tone seemed to have about the same effect on Garfield as it did my girlfriend.  

"Okay, fine, don't believe me. But just keep this conversation in mind when we arrive, safely, at our destination." I paused, looking out over the open expanse of water. "We've been heading north, not straying too far from the U.S. coastline… any idea where we're headed?"

"How should I know where that hedgehog scoundrel should be headed? He could be on his way to Egypt, for all I know -- I hear they have lots of those hairless cats out there. I'm sure he'd just love something so scandalous." Garfield shifted his head to the side, staring out across the water menacingly.

"Well, I really doubt--"

"He always said I was The One, you know that? That everything that happened before with that pre-teen Amy, or even Mr. Edgy Shadow had all meant nothing after he met me… but it appears now that I was stupid. Stupid for caring about anyone or anything other than pasta, cheese, and meat sauce."

I wasn’t really sure what to say -- how do you console a grumpy, pregnant cat whose hedgehog husband just ran out on him? Though I may have all the powers of the sea at my command, I was way out of my depth here. I tried to think of what Annabeth would do if she were here -- probably say something that would validate his feelings, then come up with some sort of tactical solution. Okay. I could do this.

"I under--"

"It's really what happened with Jon all over again, you know? You think you've found your forever home, then the next minute you're tossed to the curb because the new girlfriend has 'allergies.' Allergies! Take a Claritin, lady! Hey, Odie!" he called, rising up with his chest puffed out. Odie turned his head back, clearly pleased that Garfield wanted his attention. "You think that lady could've taken a Claritin?" 

Bark bark! 

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Garfield turned to face me. "Maybe I was allergic to her. Do you think Jon ever thought of that? Noooo. Definitely not. And even if he had, it's not like he'd've cared anyway. He'd probably tell me to go find some Italian restaurant to hole up in. Pah! As if that's not what I do all day anyway!"

I was pretty sure even Annabeth wouldn't have been up to this.

At the very least, Garfield's vehement fuming seemed to be taking his mind off from his fear of the water. Now, he paced back and forth across the seat, casting angry glances at the sea, the sky, Odie, and even me. I really don't know what I did to deserve that glare.

After a few minutes of this, the angry feline finally slumped back down with a sigh. "Hey, H2O guy, where are we now?"

I closed my eyes, concentrating, trying to pinpoint our location. "By now I'd say we're a little ways off the coast of Cape Cod, why?"

Garfield glowered. "I know where we're headed."

TO BE CONTINUED…

Chapter Text

“Are you going to tell us where we’re going yet? We’re getting close to the city.” 

After muttering that we should set our course for Boston, Garfield had grown quiet, turning in on himself. I hadn’t really noticed at first -- my own thoughts were caught up in viewing the coastline, remembering the last time I’d been to Massachusetts’ South Shore. It was funny to think that, for a moment there, Rachel and I… Two gray storm clouds caught my gaze in the distance, the angry pair looking suspiciously like eyes. I quickly switched to another train of thought. We were nearing Boston Harbor, and I needed to figure out where to dock. 

“Hey, you listening?” I tentatively reached out a hand to the top of his head. To my surprise, he was really soft. Though his orange hair appeared coarse, it was silky smooth to the touch. I stroked my fingers through it, scratching lightly behind his ear, the way how I remembered the neighborhood cats liked. Eyes still shut, Garfield began to purr contentedly. The poor guy must have really been through a lot. I moved to scratch behind the other ear, and Garfield’s eyes shot open. He lurched back with a hiss . 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he growled.

I suddenly felt very awkward.

“Um, pet--”

“Petting? How would you like it if I started petting you without your permission? What do you think I am, some kind of animal?”

I kept my mouth firmly shut. 

“Humans. I swear. No sense of boundaries. If you want to pet someone, pet the dog.”

Odie’s ears perked up. 

“Um, well, anyway… we’re almost there. Where should I take us into port? Downtown?”

Garfield sighed, the vehemence draining from his eyes. “No, almost, but no. Take us to the North End.”

The North End. I really should’ve known, honestly. It was Boston’s own Little Italy, a maze of tightly packed cobblestone streets with a different Italian eatery everywhere you turned. I’d come here once on a school trip touring historical Boston, and again to get cannolis with Rach-- I glanced down and saw two gray pebbles on the ground. I’d think about dessert later.

“So, this is where you and Sonic met, huh?” I turned to say to the cat. Only… he was gone. I quickly turned in a circle, scanning for any trace of his orange fur, but there were too many people bustling past, too many feet covering the ground. I felt a knot of dread build in my stomach. 

Bark! Bark bark!

I knew that sound. I turned back the way I’d come, and found Odie standing on a block corner. He wagged his tail when he saw me, then turned his snout to point at the building behind him. It was (shockingly) an Italian restaurant, its walls composed of clear glass. I tried to casually glance in as I approached, not wanting to creep out the diners by openly staring. I nearly missed the orange tail passing through the door to the back kitchen. 

TO BE CONTINUED…