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“Percy! You came.” Lora exclaims, grinning as she holds the door open for Percy. “Come on in!”
“Happy birthday Lora.” Percy replies, and hands the red head a small gift bag. They enter the bar, and Percy follows her to the back where the rest of their classmates are already sitting. It isn’t nearly as bad as he feared; the bar isn’t crowded, and there’s only a few people on the dance floor. There’s enough lighting to read a menu without straining his eyes.
Percy relaxes slightly. Part of him had been ready to leave if the bar was more of a club - with people packed together like sardines in pitch darkness with only strobe lights moving around.
Lora’s boyfriend, Josefin, stands up to let Lora slide into the seat. He claps Percy on the shoulder. The hand slides off his shoulder faster than Percy’s able to process that it was there in the first place. “Hey man. Thanks for coming.”
Percy mumbles something in reply, and then takes a seat at the end of the table. A few of his other classmates in the Underwater Construction Certification Course - Merriweather, Verdana, Kalam and a few others - exchange greetings with him, but it’s not long before the conversation picks up again. From what Percy can tell, it’s something about twitter and some billionaire that’s not Rachel Elizabeth Dare.
He wouldn’t really know. He only typically uses his phone to call Annabeth, his mom, Paul or Grover. After disappearing for nearly a year, it’s practically a necessity for him to stay in touch. However, despite being confident in his abilities to keep himself safe from monsters, Percy doesn’t want to take unnecessary risks to draw monsters to himself, so he limits the amount of time he has his phone turned on.
The last time he lost track of time while on his phone, a pack of wild hellhounds caught him off guard. He had survived the encounter relatively unscathed, but his old phone hadn’t.
Percy leans back in his chair, and observes his classmates. Nearly all of them are two or three years younger than him. After Percy had returned from Camp Jupiter (and cried buckets as he hugged his mom for the first time in nearly a year - not that he would admit it), he and Annabeth had decided to go back to school. They needed a break from the Greek world. They needed normalcy.
However, actually finding a school was more difficult than ever. Percy had skipped all of grade eleven (the year after his sixteenth birthday), and his record before that was filled with incidents and expulsions. Annabeth’s record was somehow even worse. Multiple years of school were missing, and the ones that she did attend were also filled with incidents, similar to Percy’s.
They persevered, and two years later, they had both graduated. Sally had been overjoyed. Paul had thrown a party, and invited all their demi-god, mortal and immortal friends and family. (How Paul got in-touch with Hermes, Artemis and Poseidon, Percy will never know). Annabeth had accepted a program for Architecture at New Rome’s University at Camp Jupiter. And Percy… Well, Camp Jupiter wasn’t exactly fond of Neptune, or the ocean. Their university didn’t have a single Marine course. Percy had been accepted into another university in Georgia.
They had been optimistic about separation. They promised to call everyday, and send iris messages on weekends. It would be fine. It would affect their relationship, but they'd survive it, and move back in together afterward.
Three months into their respective programs, Percy was biting his words.
Phone calls and iris messages weren’t enough. Percy had never realized how much he needed physical affection from his family. It was like a physical hunger. He missed hugging his mom in the morning. He missed Paul ruffling his hair, as he sipped his morning coffee before heading to work. He missed holding Annabeth’s hand on the morning commute, and snuggling in the back of the bus on days that ran late.
Annabeth seemed to be fine. She had Hazel, Frank, Reyna and Piper at Camp Jupiter. Sure she missed him, but from what Percy would see, she didn’t feel starved like he did. Sally and Paul were the same way; they had each other.
Only Percy decided to come out to Georgia, all alone. He didn't want to seem needy and clingy, so he hid the extent of it.
Verdana makes a joke that Percy doesn’t quite catch, and the whole table erupts into laughter. Percy looks over, and Josefin has his arm around Lora. She’s leaning into him, looking quite content. Verdana and Merriweather are sitting closely, their arms brushing. Percy knows they’re just friends (Verdana is aro-ace and not interested in a relationship) but they’re affectionate. They’re comfortable being in each other’s space, giving each other high fives, leaning on each other, hugging -
Percy feels happy for them. He really is. But it’s like salt in the wound.
He can’t relate to them. He can’t get comfortable enough around them to lower his guard. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s a demi-god and they’re mortals, or if it’s because Percy has been through so much and his life is so fundamentally different or if it’s because something is wrong with him.
Between being hunted by every monster in Greek myths, being the subject of two great prophecies and falling into Tartarus, Percy wouldn’t be surprised to learn that it messed up his ability to relax and befriend normal people.
“Pictures! Everyone lean in!” Lora declares suddenly. She turns in her seat and holds her phone up for a group selfie, and twists so that she’s kissing Josefin’s cheek. Merriweather leans forward, and rests her chin on Verdana’s shoulder. Even Kalam swings his arm to rest around another classmate.
Percy can see the camera. He sticks out like a sore thumb; alone and isolated like an island in the middle of an ocean.
As soon as Lora is finished taking pictures, the group collectively decides it’s time to dance. Lora grabs Verdana’s hands and spins her around, giggling, happily. Josefin, Merriweather, Kalan and the rest stand up to follow.
Percy has never been one to dance. The few times that he has, he was with Annabeth on Olympus, or he was really, really young and his mom was celebrating his birthday by spinning them around the center table with his birthday cake until they were both giggling so much that they forgot about Smelly Gabe.
A lump rises into his throat. Percy makes his excuses and flees in the general direction of the washroom, missing his classmates exchange concerned looks behind his back.
Distracted and hurting, Percy bumps into a couple people, and it isn’t until one of them says “Percy?” in an awfully familiar tone that Percy looks up, and startles.
“Hermes?” Percy says, stunned. It’s undeniably Hermes; he’s adopted his twenties look, with jeans and a green button up. His phone-slash-staff is peeking out of his pocket. Percy can see the tips of George and Martha’s heads painted into the back of the case. “What are you-I mean, it’s nice to see you?”
They’re standing in the middle of the hallway, and the bar has been slowly getting busier. A few people brush past them. Hermes places his hand on Percy’s arm and directs him out of the flow of traffic. Percy instantly becomes hyper aware of it.
“It’s nice to see you too, cousin.” Hermes smiles. “And to answer your question, I own the bar.”
“Oh, wow.” Percy struggles not to take another look around. Nothing had screamed ‘owned by an Olympian god’ in the design. “It’s, um, very nice.”
Hermes looks amused. “I won’t be offended if you say that bars aren’t your scene.”
“The bar is great.” Percy says, because it is. It’s not the bar that’s the problem. It’s Percy, and his inability to survive without physical affection from his girlfriend, mom and step-dad. A pang goes through his chest as he thinks of them, and Percy breaks eye contact with Hermes, looking at the ground.
Hermes still hasn’t taken his hand off Percy’s shoulder. It’s warm and strong without being oppressive, and the most affection Percy has gotten in longer than he’d like to admit. He feels a bit pathetic, and hates himself for it.
When Percy’s eyes flicker back to Hermes, he’s surprised to see the god looks contemplative. Seemingly coming to a decision, the god nods once. “Come on, my dear cousin. You look like you could use a drink. I’ll bring out the good stuff.”
It takes a moment for Percy to process the words. The words ‘drink’ in the alcoholic sense and ‘Percy’ don’t belong in the same sentence.
“What? No, wait, I don’t drink-” Percy protests but then Hermes does something, and suddenly there's a small path between them and the bar. Hermes’s hand moves to the center of his back, and gives him a nudge, and Percy’s walking towards the bar, where there are two very conveniently empty high chairs.
Percy slides into one of the chairs as Hermes sits on the other. His arm finally detaches itself from Percy and he vehemently ignores the fact that he already misses it. Hermes snaps his fingers, and two menus appear.
Percy picks up his copy and scans it. It’s covered in all sorts of outrageously named cocktails, fishbowls, wine and beer, whose names Percy struggles to read with his dyslexia. (Percy’s sure he isn’t reading this correctly. Surely there can’t be a whole category of drinks named ‘fishbowl’? He hopes they don't contain actual fish. After spending nearly a decade talking to fish and all sorts of marine wildlife, eating fish food seems a bit too close to cannibalism to him).
Percy sets the menu down, looks up at Hermes, and wonders how to best reject the god’s offer without offending him. “I appreciate this, but I don’t really like drinking alcohol. The smell- I don't like it.”
Percy really doesn’t want to get into it. The stink of alcohol reminds him of Smelly Gabe. Enough said.
“Ah, I see. Fear not, there’s non-alcoholic drinks as well.” Hermes flips the menu over, and taps on the bottom quarter of the page. It takes Percy a moment to make out what the words say. They are fancy drinks that Percy hasn’t heard of before, followed by a couple soft drinks, milkshakes and smoothies. Sadly, the latter two are only available during lunch hours.
“Of course, you can always order a virgin cocktail. I should warn you, Dionysus might curse you for that. He takes great pride in crafting his drinks. Something about taking the art out of the drink.” Hermes continues.
Percy snorts. Like he’s going to give Mr. D another reason to plot his demise. “I think I’ll pass on those.”
“Wise decision.” Hermes says, humorously. “Although, if it’s just the smell of strong alcohol that bothers you, I could recommend something light on alcohol to try. Maybe something fruity, sweet, sour…”
Percy caves in. “Something fruity?”
Hermes waves down the bartender, and gives him the order.
“Coming right up, sir.” The bartender replies. Idly watching the bartender artistically spin and toss the bottles around, Percy wonders why Hermes didn’t just snap the drinks into existence.
“The preparation is part of the experience, Percy.” Hermes says, and Percy flushes. “Drinks aren’t my speciality, but I know how to admire art.”
The bartender sets two glasses in front of them. Percy’s is tri-colour; yellow that fades into orange, and then a deep red at the bottom. A red umbrella sticks out of the top. Hermes is electric blue with purple swirls.
He picks up his glass. “Cheers.”
Percy carefully clinks his glass against the god’s, and takes a small sip. It isn’t bad. In fact it’s nothing like what Percy expected. He takes another, slightly larger sip. He can taste the sweetness of the pineapple, something else, and the lower taste of the alcohol. He isn’t sure how to describe it, but he likes it.
“It’s good.” Percy admits.
Hermes’s response is interrupted by Percy’s classmate.
“There you are, Percy. Who’s this?” Merriweather greets them. Her eyebrow raises slightly, and she gets an expression on her face that tells Percy that she has the wrong idea.
Did she forget that Percy has Annabeth? He knows he mentioned Annabeth at least once. And showed them a picture or two. Although that was over a month ago. Shit, shit, shit-
While Percy’s cheeks burn, and he stumbles through a denial, Hermes smoothly holds his hand out to her and introduces himself. “Hello, I’m Hermes, Percy’s cousin. And you are?”
“Merriweather, Percy’s classmate. We’re studying marine construction together. It’s nice to meet you! Percy didn’t tell me he had any cousins.”
That kick starts another conversation that Percy doesn’t follow too closely. The feeling of being left out and alienated starts creeping up on him. Percy turns his attention to his drink and takes a sip, and then another.
A touch to his hand startles him. Percy looks up to see Hermes looking at him, something similar to concern on his face. Merriweather isn’t there anymore.
“Percy?”
“I’m fine. Sorry. What did you say?” Percy says.
“How is Marine Construction going?” Hermes repeats.
The conversation flows smoothly after that. Percy quickly describes the program, but when he realizes that Hermes is genuinely interested in what Percy has to say, he goes into more detail. He tells Hermes how Chiron taught him to manipulate the mist to trick the mortals into seeing that he’s wearing scuba diving gear when it isn’t, and all the marine friends he’s made; the giant sea turtle he named Ariel and her son, Roborto and twin dolphins he named after George and Martha. That gets him a good laugh.
When Hermes goes to order himself another drink, it occurs to Percy that he’s more comfortable around a Greek god than his mortal classmates.
It’s a startling realization.
Once he gets over the initial shock, it begins to make sense. With Hermes, Percy doesn't have to watch what he says like he does with his mortal classmates, lest he reveal something about the Greek world.
Percy finds that he enjoys talking to Hermes more than he would’ve thought. There's just something different about talking in person, than over a phone or iris message. It feels more real - which doesn't make sense to Percy because this conversation is just as real as the conversation he had with Annabeth last night, and the conversation he had with his mom and step-dad last weekend.
In between stories, Percy finishes his drink and tries another one of Hermes’s recommendations. He starts to feel the alcohol acting, making him more relaxed, warm and confident, so when Hermes asks about his classmates, Percy overshares.
He tells Hermes about Lora, the kind popular redhead who he has struck a deal with; he helps her with the underwater practicals and she helps him with the classroom theory. Her boyfriend Josefin, who’s not actually in the program, but somehow is almost always around in lecture halls, practicals and group meetings. Verdana, who decided the career pathway to discover all sorts of new marine life. Merriweather, who’s known Verdana since childhood and followed her here from Europe. Kalam, who’s taking after his brother and planning to work in the family business in Egypt when he finishes the program.
“That’s quite the diverse bunch of mortals.” Hermes comments, his tone knowing.
Eyes stinging, Percy looks away, and stares into his nearly empty glass like it has all the answers. They’re all so mundane. Percy knows that he sticks out like a sore thumb around them. Getting called out on that - regardless of the fact that Hermes doesn't have any malicious intentions - hurts.
Hermes sighs. “There’s no shame in not fitting in with the mortals, Percy. I would know. Most of the gods - we struggle to integrate with mortal affairs. It was easy enough during the birth of our parthenon, but a lot has changed. Apart from finding company for a short while and the odd money making scheme, we tend to stay separate.”
Percy laughs drily. “I’m not a god though. I’m not immortal like you guys. I’m not…”
Hermes makes a sound of disagreement. “Percy, you’ve always been closer to divinity than most demi-gods. How many of your cousins have even a fraction of the power you have? Percy, the way you can sense the ocean and the water around you, the understanding you have over the way certain elements - liquids with a water base in your case - can be manipulated. That isn’t possible for mortals, and even most demi-gods.”
Percy’s mouth dries. “What-what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that we’re family, Percy.” Hermes says, his tone oddly gentle. He turns to face Percy, and rests his hand on Percy’s arm. “There’s a reason why the gods stick so closely together, and why we encourage our children to do the same. We’re fundamentally different from all of them. Sure we can talk the same language, enjoy the same drinks - well not quite, mine’s spiked with nectar - listen to the same music but at the end of the day, mortals belong with their own and we belong with ours.”
“I just… I needed a break. After everything that happened in the last quest, I needed to get away from it all-”
“I know. You should've never had to experience those kinds of horrors.” Hermes says. “And we’re glad - I’m glad - you’re healing. Goodness knows you need it. But cutting yourself off from Camp Half Blood, from your home isn’t the way.”
Percy fingers the stem of the glass, watching the last of the drink swirl around. “There’s no place like home.”
“Indeed.” Hermes murmurs with a smile. He wraps his arm around Percy, and pulls him in for a side hug. Percy has no idea how Hermes manages it with both of them sitting on high chairs, but it’s comfortable and soothing in a way he didn’t realize he needed.
“Did you really come all the way here to tell me to visit camp?” Percy mumbles.
Hermes laughs. “You stumbled into my bar looking hopelessly lost, my dear young cousin.”
“I’m not hopelessly lost-” Percy protests, and then uses his powers to recite the exact longitude and latitude of their location. He learned how to tell his location at sea pretty quickly. It hadn’t been until after he came out of Tartarus with a vast array of awoken powers that he realized he could tell his location on land as well.
“Whatever you say, kid.” Hermes snorts, amused. “I think it’s time I walk you home.”
“I’m not a kid - I’m twenty one.” Percy says as he slides off his chair. “Old enough to walk myself home.”
“Uh uh. Talk to me about not being a kid after your first millenia.” Hermes replies. “And I will be walking you home. If your father finds out that I plied you with alcohol and then abandoned you in Georgia, he’ll have my head.”
“I’m fine. I’m not drunk - I’m barely even tipsy.” Percy grumbles. It’s true, while he can feel the alcohol affecting him, making his limbs feel lighter and warmer, he doesn’t have trouble walking. He knows Hermes is teasing, and it’s nice.
Nonetheless, Hermes walks him to the entrance to his apartment building. It isn’t too far away from the bar, just under a half an hour walk. They spend half the walk bantering, eventually falling into a comfortable silence. When they arrive at the building, Percy wishes the walk was longer.
Hermes turns to him, and Percy suddenly feels awkward. “Thank you for the drinks. And talking with me. It was nice.”
“It was. Feel free to visit. I’m not there most of the time, but if you enter and ask for me, I’ll know.”
Percy nods, and starts to turn away to his apartment. A soft, exasperated huff followed by “Percy,” has him turning back.
He’s not entirely sure how it happens, but one moment he’s looking at Hermes, and the next he’s being drawn into a hug. Hermes’ arms are strong and comfortable around him. The part of him that had felt disconnected and starving, settles. It reminds him of the time his father hugged him after the fight in the throne room when he was sixteen, when Annabeth first saw him and tackled him with a hug at Camp Jupiter and the first hug his mom gave him when he returned, with his memories finally intact.
Percy isn’t sure how long it lasts, but eventually Hermes draws away and leaves his hand on Percy’s shoulder.
“I’ll see you soon, cousin.” Hermes says warmly, before disappearing in a flash of golden light.
Before going to sleep, Percy rearranges his schedule to give himself a three day break; enough time to sail back to New York to visit his mom, Paul and camp half blood. He resolves to find a way to visit Annabeth in Camp Jupiter in the morning. Maybe he'll talk Nico into letting him borrow Mrs. O'Leary. That night, Percy falls asleep comfortably, feeling better than he has since he got to Georgia.
The End.