Work Text:
Percy didn’t mean to end up in Australia. He really didn’t. He went for a swim after visiting his dad in Atlantis, helped out a whale that got lost, then untangled a dolphin from a fishing net, and proceeded to chat with the various fish and aquatic animals that came up to him. Next thing he knew, he tuned into the fact that his coordinates were much different than his usual, and realized he was not anywhere near America anymore.
Damn. Screwed over by his own attention span. Story of his life, right?
Anyway, once he realized he was in fact near Australia thanks to a friendly Manta Ray, he decided he may as well go grab some food. It was now well over 5 hours since he left his dad’s place, and he was starving after swimming around for so long. He oriented himself towards the shore and shot off like a bullet, sticking well under the surface so he wouldn’t freak out any fisherman.
In minutes, the ocean floor began creeping upwards, and with the sun having just set, he swam headfirst into a net. Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, was left tangled and shocked at the bottom of the ocean, trying to figure out how the hell he didn’t see or sense the shark net, and wondering how in Hades he was going to untangle himself.
Percy groaned loudly, trying to free his arms to work on the ropes, but they were stuck at his sides, pinned to his hips with several lengths of rope. He huffed, frustrated with himself and stupid Australia for putting nets in their water. He couldn't believe he, of all people, had been caught in such a basic trap. It was embarrassing, not to mention inconvenient. He just wanted to swim to shore, get a burger, and catch a dolphin ride home.
He flexed his hands and focused on the water around him, ready to throw water around until he got free, but then a shadow loomed overhead. Percy stilled, instincts on high alert. Would it be better to stay silent, or get help from the mortals? He’s definitely get out faster with their help, but the whole issue of him breathing underwater would be a bit difficult to explain. He could say he was swimming and dove down to get something? And that he’s just really good at holding his breath?
As the shadow stilled right on top of him, he decided that would have to be good enough. Be vague, be sarcastic, and bullshit your way through the interrogation. A good motto to live by, if Percy did say so himself. He quickly willed the water to soak his clothes and hair, and puffed out his cheeks in attempt to look like he’s been holding his breath for the past couple of minutes.
***
Mouse enjoyed the winter evening shifts more than any other. The beach was quiet, the temperature cooled down, and the only thing to do besides tidy up was watch the few local surfers catch waves. On that particularly chilly Tuesday evening, there were only a couple of people on the beach and in the water, and Mouse was alone in the tower with Chappo and Jethro. He was finishing up some paperwork and munching on some crisps (stolen from Maxi’s locker), while Chappo kept an eye on the civilians and Jethro wiped down the med bay.
He didn’t expect to hear the distinct ringing sound connected to the sensors of the shark net, but an alarmed noise from Chappo confirmed he wasn’t hearing things.
“Is that the shark net alert?” Jethro called from the lower floor, sounding incredulous. Chappo typed away on the computer for a moment before nodding.
“Yeah, seems so. How about you two go out there and check it out? All the sharks should’a migrated by now, so it’s possible this guy might be hurt.”
Mouse grabbed his gear, “I’ll grab the Jet ski. We should ring Hoppo, yeah?”
Chappo nodded and picked up the phone, waving them out the door. Mouse rushed outside with Jethro, who was frantically trying to clip his belt on while running down the beach to the buggy. Jethro finally managed to secure his belt as they reached the buggy, his expression a mix of concern and adrenaline. "This is the last thing I expected tonight," he yelled over the sound of the crashing waves.
Mouse nodded, jumping into the driver's seat and firing up the engine. "Let's hope it's just a false alarm," he replied, though they both knew the odds were slim. Shark net alerts were rare, especially this time of year, and usually, it meant trouble. Finding a shark would mean calling in Hoppo, who would call in animal rescue, which would mean a long night at the beach with mountains of paperwork to fill out.
Muscles tight in anticipation, they made their way swiftly across the sand, the headlights of the buggy cutting through the twilight. The beach was nearly deserted now, the last of the surfers heading in, oblivious to the drama unfolding just offshore.
Reaching the jet ski, Mouse didn't waste a moment, powering it up and steering it expertly through the breaking waves, Jethro holding on tightly behind him. The sensor beacon was flashing a few hundred meters out, where the shark net lay just below the surface.
As they approached, Mouse slowed, his eyes scanning the water for any sign of movement. It was Jethro who spotted it first—a figure caught in the net, struggling faintly.
"There!" Jethro pointed, and Mouse immediately steered towards the trapped figure. As they got closer, Mouse swore. That was not a shark.
“Mouse to Chappo,” he said into the radio, shock clear in his voice. “Mate, this isn’t a shark. There’s some bloke caught in the net. Jeth just dove in to cut him out, he seems to still be conscious, I’ve no idea how though.”
There was a couple of seconds of silence.
“Mouse, did you say someone got caught up in the shark net? It’s hundreds of meters from shore!” Chappo answered, voice crackling loudly over the radio. Mouse ran a hand through his hair, glancing down at the dark shape of his teammate struggling to cut the ropes off the civilian.
“Yeah, mate. Seems pretty young too. Have someone meet us at shore will you? Bring the oxygen and defib just in case.”
“Gotcha. Hop’s on his way over as well.”
“Alright mate, Jeth’s got him on the mat, we’re on out way, over.” he said, then pocketed the radio and glanced back at a soaking Jethro pinning a young, black-haired teenager to the mat. Funnily enough, Jethro seemed to be more out of breath than the man they just rescued. “You alright?”
The teenager grinned sheepishly, giving him a weak thumbs up, and answered in a very distinct American accent, “All good. Went after something I dropped and got tangled. Pretty grateful I learned how to hold my breath for a long time, gotta say.”
Jethro looked at Mouse, giving him a distinct ‘we’ve rescued another nutter’ face. Mouse grinned and turned the ski back on and gunned it to shore.
***
As they neared the shore, the lights from the lifeguard tower and surrounding beachfront illuminated the scene, casting long shadows on the sand. Hoppo was already there, pacing by the water's edge, his face etched with concern. Maxi and Yak, who had been nearby, joined him, both carrying medical kits and ready to spring into action.
The jet ski hit the shallow water, and Jethro and Mouse helped Percy to his feet, supporting him as they waded to the shore. Percy, trying to maintain his charade, allowed them to help, though he felt perfectly fine.
Hoppo met them first, his gaze quickly taking in the scene. "What happened out there?" he asked, his voice carrying the weight of his responsibility.
Mouse took the lead in explaining. "We found him tangled in the shark net. No idea how he got there; it's a fair distance from shore. He's lucky we got to him when we did."
Maxi and Yak stepped forward, their professional demeanor taking over. "Let's get you checked out," Maxi said to Percy, guiding him to sit down on one of the nearby benches.
Percy, still playing his part, complied but insisted, "I'm really okay, guys. Just a bit of a scare, that's all."
Yak, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. "You were out there for who knows how long, tangled in a net. We need to make sure you haven't got hypothermia or any injuries from the ropes."
As they went through the routine checks—oxygen levels, pulse, checking for cuts and abrasions—Percy found it increasingly difficult to hide his impatience. He wasn't used to being fussed over, especially when he felt completely unharmed.
Hoppo, meanwhile, had a barrage of questions. "What's your name?"
"Percy. Percy Jackson," he replied, trying to keep his tone neutral.
"And how old are you, Percy? What were you doing out there?"
"I'm 19. I was...just swimming. Lost track of time and distance, I guess."
The lifeguards exchanged looks. Hoppo's experience told him there was more to the story, but he also knew when to back off. "Alright, Percy. We'll need to take your details for the report. You're sure you're okay?"
Percy nodded, eager to end the conversation. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just really hungry. I could kill for a cheeseburger right about now."
Maxi chuckled, clapping him on the back. "Well, you're in luck. There's a great spot just up the beach. We'll get you sorted, and then you're free to go."
As the checks concluded and Percy was deemed fit and well, the group's attention turned to the more mundane task of paperwork and protocols. Percy, sensing an opportunity to escape further questioning, stood up, stretching.
"Thanks for the save," he said, his tone genuine. "I guess I owe you guys one."
Hoppo nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. "Just stay out of those nets in the future, alright?"
Percy grinned, "Deal."
With a final round of thanks and goodbyes, Percy walked off towards the promised burger joint, deciding to never tell his friends about this particular adventure.