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The rain lashed at Percy’s back.
He glared up the cliff at the speck of color that was Annabeth and Tyson and Grover.
He clenched his teeth at the shivers that wracked his body, feeling the pounding of the wild surf against the rock on which he huddled.
The rock, which at low tide, he’d easily climbed up on.
The rock which was now surrounded on all sides by the raging sea.
He’d had stupider ideas, but none were coming to mind.
First came the hippocampi, cavorting around the rock.
When he glared, and made no move to climb on board, they cantered back out to deeper waters.
Next, the dolphins leapt, chattering at him, far too close to shore.
He hunched against them, and glared at where the wild surf lashed the sand.
“SON,” boomed the voice he was waiting for, eventually.
“Father!” he shouted over the wind, turning on the rock and awkwardly standing up, legs braced.
“YOU AWAIT ME,” sounded the god’s voice, the crash of waves and death of sailors within it.
“I need answers, Father!” shouted Percy angrily, waving his arms wildly. “Everyone is depending on me to know!”
“I CANNOT BREAK MY OATH, PERCY,” declared his father, the crashing of storm-battered boulders falling to the shore below.
“BULLSHIT!” roared Percy, stomping a foot and shaking his head in denial. “Look, I-”
“YOU DARE TO CALL ME A LIAR?!” demanded his father, drawing back, eyes narrowing.
Percy knew the right thing to say.
He stared up at the god-form of his father, the gigantic, swollen form built of salt-water and sea life.
He narrowed his own eyes, and shouted, “YEAH, I GUESS I DO! A LIAR, AND A- A DUMBASS! AND- AND FUCK YOU, FOR ABANDONING ME FOR HALF MY LIFE, AND THEN- THEN EXPECTING ME TO WIN ALL THESE CONTEST THINGS FOR YOU, AND NEVER HELPING ME AND-”
What he would have said was lost, as a huge wave crashed sideways onto the boulder, and flung him into the pounding waves.
He was a strong swimmer, but the riptide gripped him immediately, and dragged him straight to his father while he clawed at the water all around him, struggling to break free.
He felt something dig in and tangle in his clothes, between his shoulder blades, and just as all the useful air in his lungs was being depleted, he was lifted up, up, up, above the waves, to dangle from his father’s trident before him.
His huge father.
His huge, very angry father.
“Disrespectful, disobedient child,” chided his father, in a voice that was far less the fog-horn boom of earlier, pitched for the two of them under the roaring of the sea and the storm. “Rules exist for a purpose. Did you think to call me to account, you might have done it at a time and place when your uncle Zeus was not avidly gathered and watching.
Nearby, lightning struck a tree at the top of the cliff.
Percy swallowed fear, and allowed his own stubborn anger to rise.
“I don’t care! I don’t care about your- your contests and your constant- the fighting, Father! I don’t- I- I mean, fine, I’m sorry about the disrespect, that’s probably not cool, but-”
His father was shrinking as he walked them to shore, although his frown was no less deep, his furrowed brow no less furious.
“There is nothing, but the exercise of power, Percy,” said Poseidon, shaking his head. “There is no mortal endeavor, there is no- no greater purpose! We abide by rules, we create contests- it is the only thing, Percy, of matter and worth.”
Percy stared up at his father, hair plastered to his skull and choked out, “Yeah, like, every deadbeat dad says that, Father.”
“I am no deadbeat dad,” mocked Poseidon angry, rearing back even as he carried Percy out of the water and began to shrink, gaining flesh and hair and clothing and form.
“You’re the definition of deadbeat dad,” muttered Percy. “And, look, whatever, I’m not mad about that- I just- I need to know-”
“I tell you what I may!” Poseidon interrupted, slashing the trident between them. “It is not in my power to grant you-”
“And I say bullshit,” spat Percy, opening his arms wide. “Everyone else’s parent-gods or whatever, they’re offering clues and hints and like, at least good gear! You’re the worst, Father! Tyson needs you, you know? He’s like a baby, Father!”
“Tyson is as he was created,” said Poseidon hotly. “And I see now that you are also as you were made- hotheaded and foolish and arrogant! I tell you Zeus is watching and you dare to offer me disrespect under his gaze?”
“Someone should,” muttered Percy, crossing his arms.
“Someone should do a great many things,” countered his father, eyes still flashing anger. “And I know what I shall do now, to prove to you I am capable of taking an active interest in your doings!”
Before Percy could think though what he might mean, his father had him by the arm, and was whirling his trident at the sand, building himself a small throne with low arms.
Percy recognized the look of them from his glimpse of Olympus in an earlier quest.
And then, before Percy could figure out the point of that display, his father sank down and tugged him off-balance, guiding him deftly over one of his knees, and trapping Percy’s legs with his other knee thrown above them.
“What the fuck,” protested Percy, rearing up.
A heavy hand shoved him back down, and held him there.
“No, son,” said Poseidon in an amused tone. “You claim to need your deadbeat dad’s interference in your daily tasks, well, I am here, and I am most prepared to intercede. You ask for guidance? For clues? For hints? Very well, Percy Jackson. Here is my hint for today: when you speak to me, you speak to me respectfully.”
And then the god raised his heavy palm, and landed an heavy blow on Percy’s ass.
He didn’t yelp, although the air was shocked out of him.
No, he didn’t do anything as undignified as yelping.
Not at first, anyway.
He kept it together.
For a dozen blows or so, he remembered all of his training, remembered Annabeth’s eyes on the scene, from far above him, and attempted to stoically take the punishment his father had clearly decided to mete out.
“You can’t just ignore me my whole life and then- ow! shit- spank me once and we’re- ow!- all Family Ties or Family Feud or Full House or whatever!” protested Percy, the growing tightness in his chest and warm stinging sensation in his eyes causing more discomfort than the heavy rocking blows his father landed on his ass.
He was not going to cry!
“And you may not throw a fit on a rock about be to be submerged by high tide during a thunderstorm, to call me away from my duties,” countered his father just as swiftly. “And then shout disrespectful words for all the world to hear, Percy!”
Percy blinked and breathed. “Look, okay, I’m not- I’m not diplomatic or whatever, whatever! Shit! I’m just- Other gods are helping us, really helping us, so- so you can, too, Father! You can!”
“Percy, I must continue to do as I think best,” sighed Poseidon. “The forces and factors at play- the decisions I must make- many of the reasons are millenia old, and I do not have time to explain them to you.”
“See, that’s exactly what a deadbeat dad would- Ow! Ow!” Percy twisted and hissed, as the tears sprang to life with the heavy hits to his upper thighs. “Ow! Okay, I- that’s disrespectful, I won’t say that.”
“You will say nothing, except hello, Father, and other niceties,” Poseidon declared.
“Yes! Right! Okay! Okay, Father, I- I understand-” spluttered Percy, scrambling for control.
“I am a god,” said Poseidon, as if explaining to Tyson that he mustn’t touch the climbing wall- or at least the actively flowing lava on it. “You are my son, and it is not safe for you anywhere. You must not take risks with yourself.”
“I know!” hissed Percy angrily.
“It is a risk, to assume I will- do nothing- to correct your behavior, simply because I have chosen not to,” said Poseidon.
“Yeah, got that,” gasped Percy, pounding his fists into the wet sand beneath him. “Respectful words, got it. You can do things, also- yes. I understand.”
The skies abruptly cleared.
“Your uncle has become distracted,” Poseidon reported unnecessarily. “I am not so easily distracted.”
“Shit, really?” said Percy in a high-pitched voice. “H-how much longer? How many more do I haveta-”
“You say you understand, Percy,” said his father, lifting the leg that trapped Percy’s and allow him to gain his feet, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “And yet I do no believe you capable of understanding the whole of every moving piece. Suffice it to say that when I can do things that benefit you- clues, as you call them, or hints, or, yes, equipment, I will do so. For now, continue to seek what you have lost.”
“Sure,” said Percy, rubbing a hand on his aching ass.
All this way, and he’d risked his life in that storm, for nothing more than a hot ass and an empty promise.
“You have all the pieces,” sighed Poseidon, raising a hand to cup Percy’s face. “You need only put them together.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I didn’t get issued a lot of brains from your side of the family,” muttered Percy.
“You are brave, and honest, and loyal,” said Poseidon, still cupping his cheek.
Percy looked up, shocked.
“And now you will remember to be smart and respectful, both,” prompted his father with a small smile, “Yes, son?”
“Y-yeah,” stammered Percy. “Sure. Yes. Obviously I’ll do that.”
“Good,” said Poseidon, before stepping back five paces in quick succession, allowing the waves to turn him and pull him further out to sea. “Because I will be there, Percy, as I may. And I will be ready, and waiting.”
Percy shivered, and nodded.
The tight thing in his chest and eyes eased, as he climbed the steps worn into the cliff by time and the walking of several heavy feet morning, noon, and night.
He wasn’t going to cry!
“Man,” hissed Grover. “Okay, so, very brave, dude, but you did not have to put your ass on the line like that!”
Percy shrugged.
Maybe he did, and maybe he didn’t.
But he felt the smooth pebble in his front pocket that hadn’t been there before his spanking, and felt a little lightness spark, in place of the terror and fear of the past few days.
“Hey, Annabeth,” he called to the girl, who was clearly avoiding his eyes.
She turned reluctantly, and then searched his face, as if looking for some sign that he was going to turn into a basketcase over a simple spanking.
“What do you know about these?” he drawled, and pulled the stone out of his pocket.
“Percy!” she shrieked, before covering her mouth.
“Dude, I think that’s what we needed,” said Grover uncertainly.
Percy stared at Annabeth, who stared back wide-eyed and nodded quickly.
“Well, tell me what it is,” sighed Percy, “Because I have no idea.”
Being the son of Poseidon meant knowing barely enough to keep you alive, it seemed.
And definitely not enough to keep you off the list of the walking wounded!