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Chapter Text

“But why? You won gold at Tokyo and the Youth Olympic Games in 2018 and—” The reporter sticks his mic strangely close to Percy’s face, forcing him to flinch back. He wrinkles his nose at him.

“I am actually aware of the awards I’ve won in swimming— it’s just that I like diving more. And I’m pretty good at it, considering, you know, I’m at the Olympics for it.” The reporter blinks back, as if he hadn’t prepared for any response, much less Percy’s.

A French reporter shoved the American one behind her, “Many swimmers are, perhaps, joyful that you have left. You were to be the next Michael Phelps.” Percy laughed awkwardly. Well, what the hell was he supposed to say? Screw them?

“Uh, thanks? As much as I’d love to sit here and have you guys stroke my ego, it doesn’t change that I’m a diver this year. I’m excited to see the swimmers in the Olympics this year and cheer on USA from the sidelines.” He offered, waiting for any reporter to walk forward and recapture the empty silence. Other than the click of cameras, the reporters had come to a silence. Grover said that was good. Don’t give them anything to make follow up questions with.

He pushed past the paparazzis, mumbling a half-hearted good-bye, “Thank you for the questions,” He rushed into his car while the cameras shifted to focus on the next athlete coming in. Thank God.

“Again!” Annabeth groaned internally, sliding her fencing mask on. She slashed at Sheila again, and she could tell her muscles were shaking too. A clean jab to the abdomen and her sabre fell out of her hand in shock. Annabeth slid her mask off, pointing to Sheila, who was on the ground.

“Coach, Sheila needs a break. I do too. I’m going to eat lunch and I’ll come back for strength training in two hours.” No please, no puppy eyes, no ‘may i?’, it just makes her mother angrier. She couldn’t see her mother’s expression— the woman had turned around to look at something on a computer. Probably slow-mo footage of her form during the last two hours of one on one practice.

“One and a half,” Her mother said and Sheila looked like she was about to throw up from next to her. She wasn’t an Olympian, but she had just barely missed the cut for it. Her mother had taken some of the athletes who had missed the standard to help the Olympic athletes train, “I want to review your footage with you. You’re missing some technical shots—”

“Two. You have other athletes to train.”

Her mother turned around, anger flashing across her face, “Don’t tell me how to do my job, Annabeth. Do you understand that?”

The girl in question dipped her head down in defeat, “Yes, Coach. I’ll be back in one and a half hours.”

“Hey Mom!” Percy waved. Grover was just behind him on frame, perking up to wave at Sally, “How’s Paris?” The call was cutting in and out, but he could see wisps of the Eiffel Tower behind her.

“Gr— eat, Percy! Paul — loves it! I — baguettes.” Grover snickered behind him as the call cut in and out, making his mom’s words nearly unrecognizable. 

“Mom, you’re cutting out!” He called, just as the screen froze. He paused to see if his mom had understood him before trying again, “Mom, you’re—”

“I heard you, Perce. Is this better?” She was inside now, the backdrop some type of gift shop. He nodded, “How is training going?”

He shrugged, “Okay. Hopefully, I won’t fall flat on my face during the actual competition.” Sally smiled fondly. She had experienced enough of Percy’s overthinking his entire life that she wasn’t too fazed.

“You’re going to do fine.” Percy nodded. Fine. Fine wasn’t actually good enough for the viewers. They had expected amazing. In fact, he had expected amazing. Ask Percy in 2021, and he would’ve told you exactly how the Paris Olympics were going to go down. He was going to get gold in the Olympics and he was gonna cheer and grin bashfully when they told him he was the greatest swimmer of all time.

Maybe, that had been the problem all along. He was always going to be good at swimming. He had always known that about himself. He had many theories on why he chose diving over swimming, and so did his therapist. 

But it didn’t matter why he did it. He did, and now he was in the Olympics and everyone expected him to do fine. What did that mean? Someone just recognizable as good, without being great? Fifth? Fourth, accompanied by comments on how lucky he was that blah blah hadn’t gone and blah blah had missed his cue? Certainly not a medal. 

“Percy, seriously.” His mom said again, “I cannot wait to watch you at your preliminaries.” Which were looming closer and closer by the second. He smiled softly, “And Estelle says hi.” She brought the phone down to Estelle, who grinned.

“Hi Percy!” She waved, dragging out the second syllable of his name and digging her face into Sally’s leg, “I want to see you swim.” She grinned. Percy’s smile flickered as Paul corrected her from the side of her. She didn’t seem like she cared. Which made sense, considering she was barely five. It didn’t matter. It didn’t.

“Hi Estelle,” He said, pushing his thoughts to the corner of his mind, “How’s Paris?”

“Tower was so tall!” She made a whoosh sound as she described how tall it was. Paul talked to him about a couple sights they saw with Estelle making some more sound effects with him before Sally took the phone back and told Percy to get some rest. Did he look that tired? 

“If you’re talking out loud, you’re definitely too tired.” Grover said behind him. He had asked his question out loud. He turned around to his best friend and manager. Grover was kind of his manager, in the sense that they figured at 15 that if Percy was going to need one, it could be someone he liked. And if Grover was 18, why couldn’t he be Percy’s manager? And now, at 21, it paid off. He decided that with his severe ADHD and anxiety making it hard for him to have most roommates, having someone he knew to room with would be better than a diver teammate. Fortunately, the Olympic committee agreed to that.

“Yeah, whatever,” He huffed, “I have strength training in a couple hours anyway.” He fell back on his bed, throwing a pillow over his face. Grover side-eyed him.

“I know you’re pissed about the reporters and just generally anxious—”

“Story of my goddamn life—” Percy interjected.

Grover, unfazed, continued, “But what matters is you do your best. Which won’t be possible if you’re focusing on them. Just lock in and let the distractions fade away.”

But the one big distraction eating at him wouldn’t fade away. It was right there with him, following him through the Olympics. His father. 

Specifically, how his father was at the Olympics.

Her mom was not uptight or controlling. Sometimes, Annabeth wished her mom was one of those protective helicopter moms and never let Annabeth out of her sight because she was worried about her. No, her mom would view being worried about Annabeth as another failure— a sign that her daughter was not smart enough to be left untrusted.

From the age of 8, she was home alone. From the age of 12, she had to cook her own meals. From the age of 15, her mom no longer discussed anything that wasn’t fencing with her. School, exams, bullies, all of it had to be dealt with by herself.

She was independent, her dad would say. But her dad was off with some new wife, playing house with some new kids, so what did he know? Fierce, her teachers would say. That was another word for she has dyslexia, ADHD and leaves every other day for fencing, but still manages straight A’s. We’re scared, but besides that, we know so little about your daughter. 

And other than that, who knew of Annabeth Chase’s existence? Teammates that were scared she’d rat on them to her mom, classmates who whispered about how uptight she was— fans who knew her only as a mercenary in the sport. 

In fencing, Annabeth hadn’t lost a match in two and a half years. This was her peak. But once you stop losing, it gets kind of old. People don’t root for you after a while— they root against you. 

And all her mom knew her as was a bottle of talent and hard work that she could squeeze out to make the most talented child possible, maybe squeeze in a ‘i’m proud of you’ right at the end and then toss her. Annabeth knew this. She knew it all too well, and still, she fought for her mother. If she didn’t, what purpose would she have?

She wandered around the lunch hall, scooping her plate with pasta and chicken, greens surrounding it. She filled up her thermos with water before dumping a thin packet of protein powder into its contents. 

She took a weary bite. Nerves of several years of training built up into just two weeks made it hard to have an appetite. 

“Moping again?” Thalia sat down next to her. Annabeth frowned, “Moping is no good for the stomach.” She brought up a spoonful of pasta from her plate and fed it into Annabeth’s mouth. She chewed it begrudgingly. 

“Not moping. Just pissed about—” She paused, shrugging, “Nervous.”

Thalia grinned, razor white teeth flashing against spiky black hair, thrown into a ponytail. “Nervous? Don’t worry, the adrenaline will kick in any minute now.” But it was hard to imagine she was right. All she felt was a rock stuck in the bottom of her stomach, blocking out all and any adrenaline. 

“Maybe,” She said, just to keep the air peaceful. She didn’t quite have the energy to argue back.

“So you’re wrong?” Annabeth gripped her fork, shrugging.

“Maybe,” She allowed, not quite admitting wrong or right here.

Thalia shook her head, spinning around so her elbows rested on the table while her legs stretched out in front of her. Her jacket was unzipped just barely to reveal a faded shirt with the words KILL BARBIE! written on it, “Kid, you definitely need to eat. I have never seen you admit you even might be wrong,” Thalia said, flicking one of Annabeth’s braids behind her shoulder.

Annabeth pursed her lips. Here, she was right, “Don’t call me kid.” Thalia smiled and shook her head, just as Leo and Jason came out from inside the cafe, holding cups of coffee. Leo was Mexican, played table tennis, and Jason and Thalia played for Sweden in their respective sports.

“I’m off. Don’t kill yourself.” Annabeth thought of the rigorous training that had been leaving her bones weak and muscles achey every night in the last week. She glanced up, managing a tired smile.

“Can’t promise.”

Chapter Text

“Come on!” Grover clasped his hands together, “Why can’t you go by yourself? Or with your diving teammates?” Percy stopped shaking Grover to glare at him.

“You know you’re my only friend, right?” Not untrue. Other than Piper, who was off surfing in Tahiti or whatever, he had no interest in knowing a single person here. That was not the purpose of the party he was — or at least, trying to — persuading Grover to come to. 

He had one goal in mind— free the Olympic dolphin, “Don’t you have to train?” Grover groans, rubbing a hand over his face. A goatee had started growing over his brown skin and a beanie covered up the top of his head, just barely revealing browl curls underneath. On his phone, a long list of texts from and to Juniper, his fiancee, popped up. 

“Here is the dolphin.” Percy put his hand just above his eyes, palm facing down, “And here is me performing well at the Olympics.” He dropped his other hand to as far down as he could, staring at Grover pointedly, “My priorities are straight, and so should yours.”

“They are! A nice Friday night in, watching the Eiffel Tower, with a glass of wine and my gorgeous fiancee on FaceTime? That’s my priority.” Grover grinned. Percy put his hand up to his chest in mock offense.

He sniffed, “So you admit it. Juniper really is more important than me.” Grover sighed.

“It’s not like that!” He flustered, “I– fine,” He grabbed his jacket, using his hands to push himself off the bed and onto his wheelchair. “To this stupid party we go.”

Ten minutes later, they were in front of a giant house. A mansion. They didn’t really know who was throwing this party, but Percy said that he had seen the post reblogged onto the Olympics page by a guy named Will Solace. It was his family’s place, and he was the head medic on the field for a couple sports. Judging by the bustle of people and lights coming from inside, this was so not Grover or Percy’s scene. 

The Save the Dolphins scheme beginned some hours ago when Percy had seen the post– followed by comments asking if the dolphins would be there. Turns out, Will Solace’s family was seriously loaded— his dad was one of this millionaire philanthropists and his mom was a famous singer. So, they happened to have dolphins trapped inside their living room like some kind of freak show. 

Percy was many things; an asshole from New York, weirdly sarcastic, but he was not an animal trapper. He would figure out how to save those dolphins, and unfortunately as his best friend, Grover had to help.

“It’s just not feasible. They’ll probably kick us out or call the police or both. We can’t get arrested, Perce.” Percy rolled his eyes, “I’m too young. I have so much left in my life to do!” 

“So many trees left to hug,” Percy quipped, but Grover looked like he actually was grieving the potential loss of tree hugs if they got arrested, “Grover, we’re not going to get arrested. We’ll be secretive. And there’s easily five hundred people here. They won’t catch us.”

Grover did not look assured, stepping inside the doorway. A couple people recognized the pair, nodding and waving, “Great. Witnesses. ” Grover hissed from next to Percy. 

Percy grabbed his best friend’s shoulders and twisted them towards the kitchen, “I’ll find the dolphins, you get some food. Relax. Unwind.”

Grover nodded, “Good idea. We won’t get caught near each other.” He winked and hobbled over to the kitchen, where it really was a feast. Shrimp, lobster and caviar adorned the plates that random twenty year olds were chowing down on like it was alcohol at a frat party. 

In Grover’s defense, this was a terrible plan. Percy knew that. But what was he supposed to do? He could hear Grover’s stupid voice in his head already, Go home? Sleep early? Train? Of course, he could do all of those things, but of course, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to think about Tuesday, when his preliminaries happened. And after that, all of his competitions, tumbling after the other until this entire experience was over and surely, he’d pack up his bags. That must be the end of his Olympic career.

So instead of going into yet another spiral, why not save some dolphins? He turned into the living room, finding a giant statue of a god-like man posing with nearly tens of items in his hands, like talents he wielded. A paint brush, microphone, ballet shoes, a bow and arrow, a first aid kit adorned his figure. Will’s dad. 

Further inside, a boy with blonde hair, similar to Percy’s, standing on a table, “Don’t make a mess, please!” He begged. He looked so similar to the statue— it must have been Maybe Will hadn’t organized this party, Percy mused, judging by how stressed he looked here. A girl that looked similar to him, same freckles and reddish-blonde hair (though dyed a faded shade of green), grinned.

“Let them be, Will! Dance. With your man, perhaps?” The girl poked Will’s stomach, earning two glares, one from Will and one from a boy next to him. Resting against the couch, he had a dark shirt on and looked distinctly tired. He also looked very familiar.

“Nico?” He asked incredulously. Shit. One, Nico was in front of him for the first time in god knows how long, and two, there went any semblance of secrecy. The boy in question’s eyes widened, a grimace plastered over his face.

“Hey Percy.” Percy immediately rushed over, grabbing Nico’s shoulders and looking him up and down, “I thought you’d be here— stop!” Nico flung himself out of Percy’s grasp.

“Sorry, sorry,” Percy conceded, lifting his hands in the air, “I just— you just left! You—” There had been a lot of emotions built up around Nico from the past couple of years, sadness, anger, confusion, fear, but none of them found their way out now, “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, Percy. I’m in the Olympics, aren’t I?” That brought a grin to Percy’s face. 

He laughed, “Yeah, you are!” Will jumped down from the table he stood on to smile at Percy tentatively, “Sorry. I’m Percy. You are?” He remembered the ‘your man’ comment from Will’s sister — he assumed — and immediately narrowed his eyes.

“Will Solace, Nico’s—”

“Friend. Isn’t he the nicest?” Nico interrupted Will, a fake smile popping up onto his face, immediately a red flag. Something was going on here, but it was really not Percy’s place to deal with it. Yet. Plus, dolphins. 

“This is—” He sighed, rubbing a hand through his blonde curls “You are meeting Grover and I for lunch tomorrow, okay? And we are going to yell at you.” Nico didn’t flinch, shrugging, “I’ll call Chiron and everything.” Chiron, of course, was their coach from way back when in their training camp as kids. It was— not that long ago, to be fair, but it felt like eons. In those eons, Nico had grown up, dealth with so much shit, because of Percy, without Percy, and now, he was seeing him again. At Will Solace’s Olympian Party, of all things, for gods’ sake! 

“And I’ll use the dead sister card at least 4 times,” Nico said, almost dismissively. Percy glanced back at him quizzically. The last Percy had seen of Nico, he was a fifteen year old, extremely angry and torn up about his sister’s death, not this boy, who made light of it. He glanced over at Will, who was now worriedly looking over at a boy playing with a vase. 

Nico glanced over at him, eyes softening, “Will, your dad really won’t care if anything’s broken,” He said, letting his hand rest on Will’s back. Will nodded, coming closer to Nico.

This was definitely his cue to go. He tapped Nico, throwing up a call me sign up to his ear, and continued his hurried quest for the dolphins. He entered a room, not a bedroom nor an office. With this kind of wealth, Percy assumed it was just a room for keeping the dolphin. And there she was, blue and glorious and staring longingly to the ocean from the giant window in the right of the room.

Percy didn’t know why he felt the need to save her, but he did. He had to. He’d unpack all of that later, and by later, he meant he’d put it in the very big box in his mind labelled later, which was scheduled to unpack— never. In the small box labelled now was dolphin. 

“Small?” Annabeth hissed, “You said this was small!” What Annabeth was looking at was a definitively not small party, with pillars from roof to ceiling, music so loud the house was shaking with the beat and windows revealing dark messes of people tightly packed into giant rooms. A second glance revealed floors taller than Annabeth thought possible, and by the time her eyes traced up to the fourth floor, the shadows were doing things she did not want to watch.

“It is.” Thalia offered, but at the sight of Annabeth’s glare, sharp enough to kill, Thalia had the grace to look sheepish, “Annabeth, we just wanted you to come.” Annabeth glanced at Jason and Leo at this, but they raised their hands in surrender.

“We had nothing to do with this,” Jason said, wagging his finger. 

“Oh, I’m sure,” Annabeth snapped, “I’m going home.”

“Annabeth, please. Don’t you want to pretend like you're just another athlete? That your mom isn’t some supervillain from hell? We’re at the Olympics. I’m never coming back,” Thalia grabbed her shoulders, forcing Annabeth to look at her, “This might be the only party you ever go to, to be fair.”

Annabeth pulled herself out of Thalia’s grasp, “That’s not true.” It was completely true. 

“Then, go.” Oh, this was working. And it was really pissing Annabeth off that it was working.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” She murmured, brushing her hair back behind her ears and pushing up the sleeves of her hoodie. She felt vastly unprepared for this ordeal, but at least no one would be judging her, or worse, reporting back to her mother. There were way too many people for anyone to even notice her. 

In the corner of her eye, she saw Thalia smirk in satisfaction and let the taller woman push her into the house. The music was worse inside, nearly sending blood into her eardrums. 

She frowned, entering the kitchen. Most people she saw were Olympians, but she couldn’t imagine who threw it. Not only was the house basically a museum from Ancient Greece, the food was splattered with truffle oil and caviar. She scooped up a buttered lobster roll and shoved it into her mouth, wiping away crumbs after. 

She turned back for Thalia, but somewhere along the way, she had lost her. It made sense. Thalia probably had friends she wanted to talk to, and Annabeth was, to her, a kid with no friends and a terrible mother. A pity project. 

Annabeth moved away from the kitchen. The air was getting hot and the people were getting too close to her. Like always. Shit. Why couldn’t she just stop?

She needed to get to— she needed to find— pity project. The words echoed in her mind before she could finish the sentence, revealing who she needed to get to. Thalia, maybe, because she definitely would be able to help. But the pity would only get worse, wouldn’t it? Solidifying how pathetic and weak she was?

She shoved through groves of people, huddled in enclaves and groups, broad and thin shoulders blocking Annabeth out. “Excuse me,” She tried, the words sounding shaky even to herself. The air stamped them out before anyone heard them. No eyes found hers.

Red dotted her vision, her braids felt too tight on her head and even the clothes against her body felt all wrong. The ringing was the worst. Nails on a chalkboard would be mercy. Instead, the sound just kept digging into her ears. Next would be the nausea, and for a house so big, dammit, there were no signs on how to get to a bathroom. 

The living room was full, dining area full, office full and the stairs were so far away. Other rooms scattered the hallways, each filled with four or five people each. She staggered to a room people were leaving quickly. 

“Out! Out! Important work!” A boy called. A couple girls strolled out, followed by a pouty, disheveled couple and finally, two boys Annabeth recognized as fencers in the Paralympics she had met last week. In the midst of it, a boy in a wheelchair rolled himself into the room, disregarding the boy’s very loud calls from inside. 

Annabeth shuffled in behind him, listening as the boy said, “Grover, you’re here.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t too hard to find the boy screaming for others to get out of the dolphin room,” Grover deadpanned. Even from behind his wheelchair, Annabeth could practically feel his eyeroll. The first boy took it in stride.

“It’s so pretentious! A dolphin room. The fourth floor might have a unicorn lounge, you know.” He glanced over, “And you won’t believe who I saw— wait. Who are you?”

Annabeth casually ducked up, pretending to inspect a vase on the other side of the room. She glanced over at the two boys. “What?” She asked coyly.

“I said ‘everyone, get out of the room.’ Did you not hear?” In anyone else’s lips, the words would sound rude, but the boy made it sound like a genuine question. She shook her head.

“No.”

He rocked back on the balls of his feet, “Uh, okay. Do you mind leaving?”

Annabeth felt slightly bad, but she couldn’t leave. This was just barely keeping her mind off of everything and the room was perfect and— “Holy shit, is that a dolphin?” The boy’s eyes lit up for a moment, while Grover narrowed his eyes at her. She pretended not to see him in her peripheral vision, walking over to the dolphin tank.

That’s what a dolphin room was. It made what he said about a unicorn lounge a lot funnier.

“Yeah, and um,” He rubbed the back of his neck, blonde curl falling in front of his forehead, “—we’re trying to save it.” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Save it?”

He looked sheepish, but his eyes were deadset on the dolphin, “I don’t agree with animal cruelty. I mean, I don’t think the dolphin’s too keen on being room decor, but who knows?” Her shoulders straightened, the pain slightly alleviating. He was distracting her, more shockingly, he was making her laugh for the first time in a little while.

“How are you planning on saving it?” She asked. She should leave. She should. The last thing she really needs is to be an accomplice, an accessory even, to a dolphin kidnapping. But she didn’t want to leave at all.

He stuck his thumb out to the ocean, but Grover spoke for him, “Dolphins can live in the air for about sixty minutes, and here to the ocean should only be a two minute run.” The boy glanced back quizzically, a smile popping up on his face. He was— kind of — cute, blonde curls, brown eyes, the bright smile that brought color to his entire face. It was less of his looks and more of his energy tht made him so gravitating, though he carried himself like he barely knew it.

“You searched that up?” 

“No, Juniper told me.” Grover added to Annabeth, “My fiancee.” She couldn’t tell whether he was relaying this to her because she was being inducted into this dolphin saving crew or he just wanted to show off that he had a fiancee, “And the trees. They spoke to me.” He closed his eyes, smiling at the sky. Whoever Juniper was, she was definitely a lucky girl. 

Percy smiled and looked over at Annabeth, who raised an eyebrow in return. They shared a laugh before both quickly glanced away. 

“So, um, are you leaving?” Percy asked, but it was asked with the real intentions just below the surface. Do you want to stay? Do you want to help? 

She shook her head, “Don’t tell me what to do.” The two boys grinned.

“You’re going to help?” Grove questioned.

She glanced back at the dolphin. Her name was Sunny, written on the tank just below her waistline. The dolphin glanced back, barely able to move in her small tank, her eyes tired. It sounded silly even thinking that a dolphin’s eyes could tell you anything about them, but Annabeth saw Sunny and she saw herself. She looked over the glass cage.

“Hell yeah. Let’s break this thing.”

Chapter Text

“Okay, I was egging you on to help earlier, but I was actually really hoping you would dissuade Percy from going through with this.” Grover bleated, sighing. He picked at the hem of his hoodie, which had been picked to threads, “But nope, just more people I have to babysit.”

Percy shrugged, “I was hoping you’d have a plan on how to break this tank.” He knocked his hand against the side of it. Jesus. It felt like titanium, which it probably was. Percy had never seen a bullet nor bulletproof glass before, but he was happy assuming this was bulletproof. 

What was stronger than a bullet?

His fists might come close, but not there. Yet.

Annabeth, as she had briskly introduced, raised an eyebrow, scoffing cheekily, “Yep, put it on the woman to simultaneously be a think tank and wrangle some boys.”

Percy wagged a finger at her, “Hey, don’t put that on me. I was raised by a single mother, I’ll have you know. I sang Britney Spears while in diapers.” Annabeth laughed slightly, a dimple popping out.

His heart fluttered a little, like he was suddenly stuck in a rom com and not an Ocean’s Eleven heist movie. Annabeth was— certainly not a sea monster or anything, just a girl that was really pretty and standing really close to him. Percy was trying not to think about it, but it was hard to when she looked like an angel and was also smiling down at him. Well, smiling down was an overstatement. They were just about the same height, but in the wedges she was wearing, she was slightly taller than him, his eyes meeting her mouth. Not that he was staring.

Dolphins. Focus on the dolphins, Perce. She slowly took off her heels, discarding them to the side of the room. She sized up the dolphin tank, “What’s her name, you think?”

Grover answered before Percy could even think of one, “Whiskers.” Percy stared at him quizzically. 

“Dude, dolphins don’t have whiskers.” 

“You never know, man,” Grover said, leaning back in his wheelchair, eyes staring up like he was seeing somewhere beyond—AKA Grover’s natural position— and added, “Nature’s weird like that.” 

Annabeth shrugged, “I like Whiskers. Why can’t it be Whiskers?”

Percy scoffed incredulously, his hands moving with his words, “Because dolphins don’t have whiskers.”

“Mr. Whiskers,” Grover was just trying to tease Percy now, and it was working. Annabeth snickered from behind Percy, fistbumping Grover. It was great to see that his ex-best friend was fraternizing with the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life to embarrass him. He was really enjoying this.

“Mrs? You mean Mrs. Whiskers, right?” Percy asked, his words deflated. Grover most definitely did not mean Mrs. Whiskers. Grover rested his head on a fist, his beanie revealing more curls that flopped towards his forehead. His face said checkmate. “No, I don’t, Percy. Why would I?” 

“Okay,” Percy clapped, “Moving on!” He peered at the dolphin tank, “What if we—” He picked up a wrench from the workbench by the desk, feeling the weight in his hands. He gave it a half-hearted swing across the tank, but other than scaring the dolphin, the effort was fruitless. The glass didn’t even shudder, “We need something stronger.”

Annabeth crouched down, inspecting the tank’s glass as it met the titanium base, “There’s gotta be a weak point somewhere. Probably in the seams. Check the corners.” 

Percy raised an eyebrow, “It’s a cylindrical tank.”

Grover sighed, wheeling to the side of the room by the window, which overlooked the beach. They’d need to break it too to get the dolphin out, “There’s always a corner, Percy. Just look.” Percy sighed, crouching down to look.

Grover pulled out his phone from behind Percy, squinting at it, “What if I hotboxed the wires and turned all the lights off? Didn’t they do that in one of the Fast and Furious movies?”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, standing up and brushing dust off of her jeans, “Last time I checked, we weren’t in a car for you to hotbox. Anyway, that would be super suspicious. I figured a good stone in the direction of the window would do the trick.”

Percy stayed crouching, peering up at her, “You want to throw a stone and destroy the window?”

She shrugged, “Maybe the wrench?”

“We are not committing property damage, guys!” Grover chastised them, earning a glare from both.

“You wanted to hotbox “the wires!”” Percy exclaimed, putting up finger quotes around the wires. They still hadn’t really touched on what Grover was even planning on hotboxing.

“At least my property damage makes sense,” Annabeth added, earning a high five from Percy. He was better off confronting it now. Annabeth was cute and funny and smart, which all meant nothing right now and the only reason he was admitting it was to get rid of it from his mind. Like, clearing up storage space.

Percy considered their options for a moment, while Grover raised his hands in surrender, “We’d only get one chance. Break the dolphin tank, break the window, grab the dolphin and run.”

Annabeth squinted at the tank, “And we still don’t know how to break the tank.” She rubbed her hands against her arms, goosebumps lining them. It was cold in this room, maybe to keep the dolphin happy, and Annabeth was wearing a tank top and jeans. She must have been freezing. Without really considering it, since Percy was wearing a hoodie underneath his jacket, he took it off and handed it to her.

She startled, bewildered, and Percy realized, far too late, that he had never said that he wanted her to have his jacket, “You look, um— cold, you know. I’m okay. So, take— uh, the jacket.” The message seemed to get across but it also seemed to cross her mind that he was barely able to articulate it without red spreading across his face.

“Ah.” She said, taking it tenderly, like one might handle a bomb, and right behind her, Grover was grinning like a madman. Percy shook his head, ignoring him completely. Instead, he answered Annabeth’s earlier question, “There’s got to be something that opens the tank. Not even someone as rich as Apollo can defy physics.” 

“You never know, man.” Grover said again, staring up towards the ceiling, “Wait— wait, what’s that?” He pointed at the top of the tank. From Percy’s angle, all he saw was glass, but the farther he moved from the tank, the more he saw what Grover saw. A small line, like a crack in the glass, going from the top all the way to Percy’s waist. Grover had spotted the black panel at the very top. 

“What is that?” 

Annabeth joined Percy at the back of the room, snapping her fingers, “The panel to open it. That’s it! All we have to do is—” Percy followed her index finger towards the black panel, “Get to that.”

“Wait, why? Can’t we just open it?” Percy questioned, staring at the glass. The dolphin stared back at him, bored. As if he was saying that if he was in his position, he’d have figured all this out already. 

“Do you always ask such stupid questions?”

Shit. God, why was Annabeth allowed to open her mouth? He had been so nice, albeit a little himboish, but in a charming way. His jacket smelled like him, and it smelled nice. He had smelled so nice! He had looked so nice— blonde curls, green eyes and freckles all over his tanned face. 

And of course, Annabeth had to go screw it over for herself because she was scared of discovering any emotions other than indifference— and especially longing, because that was scary and vulnerable and a distraction, period. She brushed her hair down, glancing away from his confused, slightly hurt face, “Obviously, we can’t just open the glass. There’s got to be some lock to open the glass pane. How else would they switch out the water?” She continued talking, hurrying to cover up how awkward she felt, “So, we need something to hold the water, a, and b, we need to figure out what’s up there. I bet it’s a keypad, so, really, we have to find something to get up there.”

Percy nodded, taking the information in. Before he could say anything else, she rolled up the jacket’s sleeves and cuffed her jeans, so they hit just above her ankles, "I’m getting up there."

Percy blinked. "You—what?"

"I’m going to climb up and open the panel," Annabeth said, needing it to sound confident. 

Grover blinked, looking more than a little concerned. "Uh, don’t you need, like, a ladder or something for that?"

Annabeth shot Grover a knowing look. "You really think we have time for that?" She crouched down and started to size up the walls of the room, scanning for any footholds. "I’ll get up there. It’s not a big deal."

"She’s insane," Grover muttered under his breath, but even he couldn’t stop a grin from forming on his face. She smiled back, grabbing the side of a stand and lifting herself up to the top of a bookshelf. Percy rushed over at that point, lifting his hands up.

She jumped, hoping that worst case scenario, Percy would catch her. But she managed to get onto his hands, which didn’t waver as she reached forward to lean on the glass tank. He adjusted his stance, so she could reach the panel. She tapped the side of it, trying to go as fast as she could. Inside was a keypad with five empty spaces, “There’s a code! Six letters!” They didn’t have time to try every code known to man, “Let me down, Percy.” He quickly followed her instructions, dropping her into his arms, before quickly backing away.

“We need that code,” Percy said, looking around. There had to be clues. Unless— “Hear me out. What if it was just: Apollo?” 

Annabeth laughed, “Why would he be stupid enough to make it that?”

“He was ranked the most self obsessed celebrity of 2023. And it’s not like he’s putting in the most high security passwords for his dolphin tank. How would he know three kids want to break into it?” Grover offered. Annabeth shrugged, and Percy’s nervousness grew. He really wanted to be right— wanted Annabeth to give him a thumbs up or high five or smile, whatever.

He helped her climb back up, watching as she entered the code. There was a pause and then click as the panel slowly began to lower, “Quick, we need something to hold the water!”

Grover rushed around the room, coming up with some small containers and a mat. After the moment of Annabeth giving Percy the grin he was dreaming of, they helped too, finding even less than Grover. A ballpoint pen, a toolbox, an empty fishbowl.

“Jesus! You’d think for a room so showy, they wouldn’t just make it the hoarding room.” Percy quipped, met by frantic searches by the other two. The water came down slowly, the dolphin making panicked noises. Shit, they really hadn’t thought this through. 

Grover smashed a rock through the window while Percy dived through the open panel and grabbed the dolphin by her sides, “We’ll get you out of here, buddy.” Her body slowed down, as if she understood what Percy was saying.

Annabeth grabbed the rear of the dolphin, and Grover took the nearest object, supposedly an umbrella and bashed at the shards of glass letting Annabeth and Percy run through it without a problem. 

The run felt like forever, maybe between the onlookers staring, Grover chasing after them on his wheelchair or Percy stumbling across the sand, getting solid chunks of seaweed flying into his mouth. Once their calves met water, they took a final look at the dolphin and swung her as far as they could manage. A gentle plop and a happy dolphin call let him know he did it.

“Good job with that password thing.” Annabeth managed, her face red. He grinned, grabbing her shoulder (in a cool, suave way!)

“Are you kidding? Did you see yourself scale up those bookshelves like they were monkey bars?” Percy whooped, “I guess we’re a pretty great team.” His smile was nearly ear to ear.

Annabeth laughed, shoving him, “That was so cheesy.”

“You liked it?” Percy cursed himself as he felt the end of his sentence lift upwards, making it a question. So close.

Grover intercepted them, grabbing Percy’s arm to move towards the road, “We have to go now. And—” He lifted his other arm, revealing Annabeth’s heels.

“My heels! Thank you, Grover.” 

“You’re welcome. I felt like I had to do a good deed for a woman tonight. Percy made me ditch my beautiful, loving, fiancee. The least I could do was not ditch your beautiful, loving,” Grover made sure Percy heard every compliment, to which he only shook his head, touching his ears in mock pain, “heels.”

Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows, “I lost the metaphor somewhere there.” The laughter was raucous, filled with adrenaline.

“Bye Mr. Whiskers,” Grover somberly declared as the laughter died down, sending them back into a loop.

Finally, near midnight, Percy returned to his room. Grover had stayed in the dining room to talk to Juniper. Stumbling in with drowsiness, he flipped on the lights, sliding his shirt off. 

“Percy.” The boy in question spun around, staring at the man in his room. He didn’t flinch— he knew exactly who it was, after all.

“Dad?”