Chapter Text
Maybe November wasn’t the ideal time to go to the beach, but when had that ever stopped Percy and Sally before? The two of them were determined to get in as many trips to Montauk as they could manage before the end of next summer. Besides, they hadn’t taken Paul there yet, and it was about time they rectified that.
“So you and Sally go to Montauk often?” Paul asked, lifting his and Sally’s bags into the car.
“Ya,” Percy replied, plopping his bag alongside theirs. “I love the ocean ‘cause well… ya know…” Percy shuffled a bit awkwardly. “Mom has told you about that, right?”
Paul looked over at his stepson, “You and Sally did explain to me that you’re a son of Poseidon, yes.”
“No, I mean…” Percy wouldn’t look at Paul, some color rising into the boy’s cheeks. “Mom told you that she met dad at Montauk, right?”
“Yes, Sally and I have already discussed that,” Paul said calmly. “I know the two of you had lives before I met you. It’s okay, Percy.”
Percy looked over at him, and Paul gave him a reassuring smile.
“Besides,” Paul continued, “I like the beach and I’m looking forward to spending time there with you and Sally.”
“Do you… uhhh… go there often?” Percy asked, clearly glad for the change in topic.
“Not since I was in college,” Paul figured he probably shouldn’t scandalize his new stepson with those stories quite yet so he continued, “I used to go crabbing everytime I went to the beach as a kid.”
“Crabbing?” Percy asked. “Like catching crabs?”
“Yes,” Paul said. “Have you ever done it?”
Percy shook his head.
“If you’re interested, I could show you,” Paul offered.
“Uhhh… ya,” Percy said. “Ya, that sounds cool.”
Paul knew better than to be offended at how blasé Percy sounded. Paul doubted many teenagers would be over excited about more bonding time with the new stepparent. Crabbing with your stepfather when you had all the world’s oceans that you could easily explore probably sounded pretty dull.
Besides, it had to be somewhat weird to Percy that Paul was going with him and Sally to a place that was so important to the two of them.
Not to mention how preoccupied Percy had been as of late. Paul didn’t know the full details, but he knew there was a war going on in the mythological world that all the demigods, including Percy, were caught up in.
Hopefully, this trip would be a much needed break for Percy.
“I hope you boys remembered to leave room for the food,” Sally said, joining them at the car.
“We did, mama,” Percy said, grabbing one of the insulated bags from her and loading it into the trunk.
“Though we might have to make one last stop before we reach the cabin,” Paul said.
Sally looked over at him. “Oh, and why’s that?” she asked.
“Paul’s gonna take me crabbing,” Percy explained.
“If we can find a place to rent ring nets from,” Paul clarified.
“I see you two have been plotting without me, “ Sally said. She smiled, and kissed them both, Paul on the cheek and Percy on the temple. “I think that sounds like a great idea!”
“Well then,” Paul said, closing the trunk, “shall we hit the road?”
“To Montauk!” Percy said, rushing to get into the car.
Sally and Paul chuckled, before getting into the front seats.
*****
Sure enough there was a bait and tackle shop on the way to Montauk. Percy wandered off to look at all of the fishing gear and tackle, while Sally and Paul took care of acquiring everything they would need for crabbing.
“So what are you going to do with the crabs once you catch them?” Sally asked, picking out some gloves for Percy.
“We used to cook them on the fire for dinner as a kid,” Paul said, grabbing a pair of crabbing tongs. “But we can always just let them go.”
“Crab sounds like a good dinner to me,” Sally said. “I’m sure Percy won’t mind either.”
“Well, then, I hope we pull a good catch,” Paul replied.
Once they’d gathered all their things and rounded up Percy from where he was inspecting the fishing flies, they made their way to the front counter to rent their net, bucket and tongs, and buy some gloves and sardines.
Then they were back on their way.
*****
Paul and Percy braved the cold November air to travel out to the end of one of the piers that jutted into Long Island Sound, leaving Sally back at the cabin to relax with her book and a hot cup of tea. The sky was overcast above them, and the wind whipped off the sea as they made their way down with their net, bucket, bait, gloves and tongs.
“So,” Paul said, cracking open the tin of sardines, “we just take these and put them in this little clip right here,” he said gesturing to the net. “Then we just drop the net down into the water and watch the bobber. Once it dips below the surface, that means we have something in our net, hopefully a crab. Then we just pull it up and see what we’ve caught.”
“That’s it?” Percy asked.
“That’s it,” Paul said, clipping the last of the small fish into the net. “Do you want to do the honors?”
“Sure,” Percy picked up the net and dropped it over the end of the pier, keeping a hold of the line all the while. The net sunk beneath the surface of the sea ‘til all that remained visible was the little neon bobber and the line it was attached to.
“This seems too easy,” Percy said, staring at where the net had vanished.
“Well, it is pretty easy,” Paul said. “That’s why people have been doing it for thousands of years.”
“And now we just… wait?” Percy asked.
“Pretty much,” Paul said.
“Hmmm,” Percy grumbled, twisting the line between his fingers.
Paul wondered idly if he should have gotten that fly tying kit he’d seen at the bait and tackle shop, if only to give his ADHD stepson something to do while they waited. But Percy settled down on the pier and started examining one of the old ropes tied to the end of it.
They sat in silence for a bit, Paul trying to figure out what, if anything, he should say.
Eventually Percy said, “What if I just stick my head into the water?”
“Don’t do that. The water is way too cold,” Paul said, trying to figure out what his stepson had been thinking that led him to that conclusion.
“Not for me it’s not,” Percy said. “Son of the sea god, remember?”
“You need to breathe,” Paul said, feeling like he was somehow the inexperienced one here.
“Which I can do under water,” Percy said.
“It’ll be all dark and murky?” Paul said, mentally recalibrating what was considered normal as far as his new stepson was concerned.
“Also not a problem for me,” Percy said with a look of amusement. Probably at whatever face Paul was making. Though his look shifted to one of slight concern. “Too much?” He asked.
“No,” Paul said, hoping he was successfully hiding the slight bit of overwhelm he felt. “Just stay safe, and try not to scare off our catch.”
Percy shot him two thumbs up. “I won’t,” he said, before gripping the edge of the pier and plunging his head into the water below.
Paul tried not to freak out too much at this. Afterall, this was nothing for Percy, right? In the end, Paul figured he’d better keep an eye on Percy for any signs of distress, and follow up with Sally later.
It wasn’t long before Percy popped his head back above water, looking no different than he had before he’d decided to dunk himself. “Oooo, they’re coming!” Percy said.
Sure enough, in a few moments their bobber slipped beneath the surface. Paul pulled up the net, using the tongs to transfer the tangled snapping mess full of crabs into the bucket.
“Cool!” Percy said, reaching for the bucket.
“Ah sport, you might want to be careful and put on some–” Paul started to say but it was too late.
Percy reached into the bucket with his bare hands and picked up one of the crabs like a hamburger. “Hey there, lil fella,” he said, sticking a finger near the crab as if to poke its shell. “Look at you. You’ve got gross sardine bits all over your weird mouth.”
“Percy, please be careful,” Paul said, though he wondered how much he needed to worry. While Paul wasn’t quite sure how it all worked, Percy was the son of the sea god and these crabs were definitely of the sea. Did Percy have, like, some princely claim over them? How much of his father’s claim did Percy inherit?
But it seemed this crab either didn’t know or didn’t care who Percy was as it snapped at Percy’s finger. Percy yanked his hand back with a cry of pain, before sticking his finger back in the crab’s face. “Hey! Rude!” he admonished it.
“You did call its mouth weird,” Paul reminded him.
“Ya, well his mouth is weird. Besides, I’m not sure how much he really understands me, “ Percy said, tilting the crab this way and that to get a better look at it. “Crabs aren’t great conversationalists.”
A new, slightly horrifying, thought occurred to Paul. “Percy… Can you talk to that crab?”
“Ya,” Percy said, like understanding what animals were saying was the most normal thing in the world. “Crabs, fish, all sea life really,” Percy looked away from the crab, making a face. “And horses, “ he continued. “Because I guess Dad decided he needed a land animal too.”
“Ah,” Paul said, really trying not to think about how sentient crabs apparently were. “Well, I was going to ask how you felt about having crab for dinner, but I guess we’d better release them once you’re done looking at them.”
Percy stopped his examination of the crab to give Paul a confused look, “Why? Is the water too polluted or something?”
“It… shouldn’t be, “ Paul said, trying to figure out how to delicately broach this topic. “I just figured… that you might not want to eat something you can talk to.”
“Hmmm,” Percy said, crab with legs still waving grasped firmly in his hands. “I do have a pretty hard rule about not eating anything I can hold a conversation with. But like I said, crabs aren’t great conversationalists. I don’t have a problem with eating crab.”
“Ah. Well… okay,” Paul said, deciding that if the person who could talk to crabs had no qualms about them then maybe he shouldn’t either. “In that case, how about you help me measure these crabs so we can see which ones we can take back to the cabin.”
“Okay,” Percy said, setting the crab he was holding back into the bucket. But not before it got one last snap in.
“And Percy…” Paul said.
“Ya,” Percy replied, nursing his pinched finger.
“Please put some gloves on,” Paul said, offering the boy a pair of leather work gloves.
*****
Percy rushed into the cabin with their bucket in hand. “Mom, look! They’re blue!” he exclaimed.
Sally looked up from the book she was reading to look into the bucket, “They certainly are, sweetie.” She looked over at Paul. “Looks like you two had a pretty successful trip.”
“What can I say? Crabs like sardines,” Paul said, shedding his winter coat. “That or they all came to see Percy.”
“I told you,” Percy said, putting the bucket down just long enough to shed his winter wear, “crabs aren’t that smart. They mostly just follow their stomachs.”
“If you say so. You should probably bring them to the kitchen so we can clean them,” Paul said, grabbing some newspaper. He gave Sally an apologetic look, “We’ll try not to make the cabin smell like crab offal.”
“That would be appreciated,” she said, standing and giving him a kiss. “How about I start a cooking fire while you show Percy how to safely clean your catch.”
“Oh come on, Mom!” Came Percy’s voice from the kitchen. “You act like I’ve never used a blade before.”
“Uh-huh,” Sally said. “And how many times have those crabs pinched you already?”
There was silence from the kitchen.
“That’s what I thought,” Sally said.
Paul chuckled, “ I’ll make sure he stays safe.”
“I know you will,” Sally said softly, before heading out to start the fire.
Paul entered the kitchen to see his stepson staring thoughtfully into their bucket of crabs. “Having second thoughts?” he asked.
“What? No,” Percy said. “Just trying to figure out what we’re doing.” Percy looked up at him with concern. “We’re not cooking them alive, are we? I know they’re not very smart, but that still seems kinda cruel. And trusr me, being cooked alive is not fun.”
Paul tried to suppress the flash of worry that came with the knowledge that his stepson knew how it felt to be cooked alive. That train of thought would not be helpful right now.
“We’re not cooking them alive,” Paul reassured him. “I’ll show you how to kill them quickly and fairly painlessly.”
Percy nodded, “That I can manage. At least, that’s what I’m used to.” Percy rubbed his hands together. “So, what do we do first?”
“I’m going to start covering the table with newspaper,” Paul said. “You’re going to put your gloves back on.”
“Do I have to?” Percy whined.
“Yes,” Paul said, laying out newspaper. “I really don’t want to take you to the ER because you accidentally stabbed yourself when the crabs pinch you again.”
“How do you know they’re going to pinch me again?” Percy asked, pulling on his work gloves.
“Don’t you fight back when something’s trying to eat you?” Paul asked.
“Fair enough,” Percy conceded, helping Paul cover the table.
Once they’d covered the table and gathered their shucking knives, Paul grabbed one of the crabs from the bucket. The crab waved its legs, trying to snap at Paul’s hands through his gloves, unwilling to go down without a fight.
“Now look here, Percy,” Paul said, flipping the crab over. “See this seam in the middle of the crab’s belly? That’s a chink in the crab’s armor. If you take your knife and stab at that seam right near its head, it’ll kill the crab pretty quickly. Then you just use the flat of your knife to pop open its belly.”
“And then we clean out the guts?” Percy asked.
“Well, yes,” Paul said. “And the gills and reproductive organs. Here, why don’t I do this first one and show you?”
Percy watched as Paul killed and cleaned a few crabs before attempting one of his own.
In things that probably shouldn’t have been surprising, it turns out Percy was a natural at it, cleaning the crabs with a level of skill and ease that a sixty five year old crabber would be envious of.
Soon enough two of them were washing out the sand and debris, and checking the crabs over for parasites before declaring their bowl of crabs ready for cooking.
Armed with potatoes, tin foil, butter, and tongs to go along with their crabs, they made their way outside to the cooking fire Sally had built.
“The fire isn’t quite hot enough but it’s close,” Sally said. She ruffled Percy’s hair, “You boys have a good time?”
“Ya,” Percy said, setting their cooking supplies on a nearby bench. “Kinda smelly and gross, but it was fun.”
“I’ll go clean up the kitchen table,” Paul said. “We really don’t want that offal in there for too long.”
“I’ll do it!” Percy volunteered. “Can I feed the crab guts to the fish?”
“Sure. If you want to. Go for it,” Paul said, a bit surprised.
“You just want an excuse to spend more time in the ocean,” Sally said with amusement.
“Duh,” Percy said, heading back into the cabin. “Besides, it’s not like the temperature bothers me.”
Sally and Paul chuckled as they watched Percy race back into the cabin. He was back out shortly with a newspaper bundle full of crab offal. Paul couldn’t help but watch with wonder as his stepson walked into the water as easily as if he was walking on land and not chest-deep into a dark and frightfully cold ocean.
“It really is something to see how comfortable he is in the water, huh?” Sally said, from where she was preparing the potatoes.
“Ya, ya it is,” Paul replied, folding the tin foil around the crabs. “I’m glad that there are parts of his father’s side of things that he can enjoy.”
“Me too,” Sally said, slightly bittersweet.
The carefully wrapped potatoes and crabs were already roasting in the coals by the time Percy returned, not even the slightest bit wet.
“You have fun, sweetie?” Sally asked as her son settled down beside her.
“Ya,” Percy said. “The fish loved the crab guts. Too bad it’s the wrong time of the year for sharks because I bet they would have loved it too.”
And since Sally didn’t appear alarmed by that statement, Paul decided he wasn’t going to worry about it either.
“Glad to hear that, sport,” Paul said, using the tongs to turn the crabs and potatoes.
“Is dinner ready yet?” Percy asked.
“Not quite,” Paul said, putting down the tongs. “The potatoes still need to soften a bit more and the crabs aren’t quite red yet.”
“What! They don’t stay blue!” Percy exclaimed.
“Afraid not, sport,” Paul said, sitting down next to his wife and stepson.
“Then what’s even the point of them being blue?” Percy huffed.
Sally chuckled at his antics and gave him a kiss on the temple.
“Hmmm,” Paul considered. “If you want we can brainstorm ways to make them blue again while we wait for them to finish cooking?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Sally said.
“Okay,” Percy said, snuggling closer to his mom. “I’ll go first. Mix blue food coloring into the butter.”
Sally and Paul laughed, and together the three of them passed the time with increasingly silly cooking suggestions.