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Triton hadn't meant to be seen by the brat, but no matter where he hid, he was always found.
Gods he hated 'Hide-n-seek'.
Not only did he hate the childish game that he kept losing in, but he also hated the little urchin that insisted the two of them play it.
Triton's father had been acting suspicious for the better half of eight years. Time is irrelevant to creatures like him, timeless Gods that have little interest in what lives above the surface, but he just couldn't handle the sniffling hours his mother spent in the grand hall wondering what could be holding her husband's lingering attention.
So maybe it was the state of his mother, or the rumors floating across the schools of fish, or even his pain-in-the-ass cousin that gossips just as much as the seahorses that line the castle walls the next thing he knew he was above the surface searching for...something.
Triton almost felt silly standing in the middle of New York with a pair of legs he hadn't used since before the death of his daughter. The lunch rush crowd ignores him for the most part, the mist doing him a favor by covering up his divine presence, the crowds naturally flowing around him giving him a wide berth as he walks down the filthy side, passing by the pitiful Hudson River and ignoring the nymphs that call for him pleading for his help.
He walks around the big apple until the crowds settle down, and he finds himself alone on a park bench. Next to him is an elderly woman who is seated next to him, knitting what could either be a large sock or a small scarf.
The grass is moist on the heels of his feet and tickles his ankles. The small park is filling up with small screaming children and tired parents who look dead on their feet. It takes him thinking of his parents and all the mischief he and his siblings used to get up to. The fawn feelings that were once rising in his chest are squashed down like water bugs when he remembers the reason he's even there to begin with.
Quiet and airy laughter starts up beside him. "Are you looking for someone, sweetheart?"
Triton turns to see that the old lady has put down her knitting needles and was now firmly grasping a walking can in her brown wrinkled hand. Triton takes a moment to stare at her. The mist should be hiding him so the lady must be speaking to someone else, but when he looks around, there are only children who aren't giving either of them the time of day.
"I'm talking to you, young man. You seem troubled." She reaches a handover and places it on Tritons bouncing knee, stilling it to a halt. Her hair is graying and pushed back by a black bandana. Triton looks down at where they are connected. Normally, he would never allow a mortal to touch him so casually, but there's nothing the old woman can do to him, so there's no need to snap at her over nothing.
"Rest assured ma'am that I am fine. I was simply looking for someone but have yet to find them." Triton keeps his answer vague enough to appease the woman and end the conversation, but sadly, she didn't seem to get the memo.
"Well, that seems awful. Are you looking for a friend of yours? A young man as handsome as you ought to have all sorts of them." The corners of her lips lift in an engaging smile. In her youth, Triton has no doubt she'd been a beautiful woman cunning enough to get her way, and even now, she seems to still have a few tricks up her sleeve.
Before Triton can decide if he's going to answer or simply leave, a foul smell has risen into the air. If Triton was a lesser being, he would have gagged instead of choosing to dig his toes into the dirt. Whatever it was, it smelt like dirty gym socks and old cheeses similar to the ones Dionysus would have on display during Olympian parties.
Scanning his eyes through the crowd, Triton saw a man tugging a small boy through the open gates of the park. The man was large like a walrus; only he lacked the tusks of one and was much uglier. Three strands of hair laid limp on his shiny bald head and were the source of the offensive smell. Triton wanted to vaporize the man for the sole purpose of daring to smell this bad while living on earth.
Following or more, like being forced to follow behind him was a shrimpish boy. It was obvious the two shared no blood relation; in fact, the kid looked downright terrified of the older man.
The lady next to him huffed an annoyed sigh. "There that brute goes again, always tormenting that poor child like its sport."
The man continued to drag the kicking boy until he practically threw him into the wood chips in front of the slide. He didn't stick around long enough to do anything else but yell at the small child about how if he wants to go home, he better hope his mother picked him up herself.
The boy doesn't move until the awful-smelling man walks through the gate and around the corner, when he does the practically leaps off the ground like a flying fish and makes a mad dash towards them. When the bot is standing in front of the bench, Triton can get a better look at him. He's covered head to toe in scrapes, band-aids, and bruises. He has a missing tooth in the back of his mouth and a front one that wiggles when he talks.
"Aunty, aunty," the small boy jumped up and down in front of the elder woman. "You're here today!"
The warm palm has yet to leave Triton's leg and moves to pat the younger boy's head. "Of course, Percy. I'm sorry I missed you last week but my niece was sick."
Percy climbed up the bench and sits in between the pair, not once acknowledging God's presence. His skin was dark like the woman's, and he had shaggy black curls that looked over for a haircut. Percy smelt overwhelming like the man he came in with, but underneath the stench was the smell of something more pleasant, like chocolate chip cookies and toasted marshmallows just like the ones his Aunt made whenever he could be bothered to show up to Olympian events. But even further underneath all that was something more interesting.
"Are you Auntie's friend?" Triton was brought out of his steady concentration when the little boy put a tiny hand on his shoulder. The boy couldn't have been older than 7. The boy was staring at Triton, waiting for an answer, but the old God was too focused on the colors he was seeing.
Sea green.
Sea green.
'Oh father,' he thought. 'How foolish.'
The boy continues to stare, but Triton is too full of rage to think, to speak, to even move. This is what has stolen his father's attention. This is what he's been looking for. This is proof of a broken oath.
The bench is quiet for a moment before Triton can find it in himself to answer. "No, I was just...looking for something."
Percy cocks his head to the side. "What were you looking for?"
"Percy," The Aunty beside him speaks up, shutting Percy down. "It's not nice to ask so many questions."
"But isn't your favorite game 20 questions?"
"Don't get sassy with me, little prince."
Aunty dug her hands into the crook of Percy's neck, causing the demigod to snort. His teeth are white, and his nose is small and flat but curved at the top in a traditional Greek fashion. Triton was certain that by the time he hit manhood, he'd lose most of his Hispanic features and look like a mini copy of his father.
Their father.
Triton tries to ignore how much the idea stings.
When Percy can gather enough air into his small lungs, he looks at Triton as if what he's about to ask only has one answer, and it's not 'no'.
"Do you wanna play with me?"
Three hours.
Three long miserable hours of playing various children's games until the insistent barnacle got too tired to even stand on his own feet making Triton carry him back to the park bench and back to the old lady who is now knitting a hat or a pot holder.
"Well, would you look at that? It seems as if you found what you were looking for, after all."
Triton doesn't hide the unamused look that easily slides on his face. "Don't give me that look, Aunt Hestia. After all, you knew from the beginning, didn't you?"
"Of course. It is my job to know of all things family," Hestia puts down her knitting needles and yarn, her form melts and flickers like Hershey's inside of a s'more until she takes the form of a little girl Percy's age. "And speaking of which, we should be heading back, the boy's mother is on her way."
Triton lays Percy on the park bench and watches their aunt gently kiss his forehead before turning around and kissing him as well. "I know you are upset with your father, but please don't try and take your anger out on him and his mother. They are already going through so much."
Triton thinks about the man who had first dragged Percy inside the park and back to the old and new healing injuries on the demigod's body.
The breeze subtlety changes directions and waves in the scent of chocolate chip cookies and saltwater taffy, and before she's even in sight, the two immortals have flashed away.
Triton stays hidden miles away in a secluded forest, but he is still able to see.
He watches Sally Jackson come into view, a beautiful woman. Dark skin and dark hair, wrinkles on the edge of her face, not from age but rather years and years of smiling, and with the sight he has of her now as she gently shakes her son awake he can see why his father would stray.
Percy is on his feet and in his mother's arms. Despite how fatigued he still is, he starts going on and on about all the fun he had with his aunt and new friend.
Now that he's seen what he was looking for, Triton allows his body to turn to water and sink through the soil and towards Atlantis, not even upset over being dubbed Percy's new imaginary friend.