Chapter Text
The first time Percy had to do on-site training for his degree, his guidance counsellor from New Rome University had not so subtly told him to keep the ability to breathe underwater and speak to marine animals under wraps. Louisa did not need to deal with calls from the Marine Mammal Care Centre in Los Angeles asking why a student from her school somehow spent 3 hours underwater in the orca tank without an oxygen mask and managed to not die.
“Annabeth I’m really not sure about this,” Percy tugged at his hair, willing it flat enough to fit underneath a New York Yankees cap (a replica of Annabeth’s they’d picked up for fun on their last trip back to visit Sally, Paul, and Estelle). Now that he was starting the second year of his marine biology course, Percy was actually going to be able to start on-site classes.
“You’ll do great!” Annabeth came up behind him in the mirror and finished smoothing down Percy’s dark hair and fit the cap overtop, “Just don’t be too much of a seaweed brain and everything will be okay,” She turned him around and placed a quick kiss to his lips. “Besides, this is like the one place where being a seaweed brain will be of benefit.”
Percy sighed, forehead falling to Annabeth’s shoulder, “I swear if I get kicked out of this program Louise is going to murder me. I’ve killed literally everything in all of Greek mythology and a fucking guidance counsellor is going to do me in.”
Percy pushed open the doors to the rehabilitation wing of the marine care centre to find a dishevelled-looking woman staring into the medical tank with concern written over her face. Percy assumed this was Doctor Anita Greene, the woman he would be studying under throughout this placement. Her frizzy blonde hair reminded him of Annabeth’s, and how it got during the summer, on days that were more humid than hot. Underneath her stained – with what Percy’s not sure he wants to know – white coat was a wetsuit covered in different sea animals. There was an otter in a sun hat, a whale carrying shopping bags, various types of fish having a nap, and many others that Percy didn’t get a chance to take in before Doctor Greene noticed his presence.
“Ah, you must be Mr Percy Jackson, correct?” Percy nodded, flushing slightly at the sudden attention on him, “I’m Anita, I’m sure you know that you’ll be working with me during your time here at the Marine Care Centre. This here,” She motioned to the hospital tank, “Is Zuma.” Percy could see a bottlenose dolphin swimming languidly around the tank. She had a visible scar running along her dorsal fin and Percy could hear her cries from a good distance away, “She’s a permanent resident here since her wound opened up too many times and now her fin is filled with too much scar tissue for her to survive hunting in the wild. She’s normally active and playful but recently…”
“She’s lost all her energy,” Percy finished Dr Greene’s sentence, Zuma herself had told him about her recent apathy to excitement.
“Exactly,” Dr Greene nodded, “We’ve got her in this tank to monitor her, make sure that it’s not pain causing her to feel this way,”
“It’s not,” Percy said, much too fast for anyone without the ability to speak to marine animals, “I mean,” he swallowed, “It could be from loneliness?”
“You do sound like a young student, eager, but definitely still a student,” Dr Greene laughed slightly, “This might often be the case for dolphins, but there are three other bottle noses in the tank with her. Now, what else might be causing a lack of energy in an otherwise healthy dolphin?”
“It’s loneliness, I don’t think she likes the other dolphins in the tank, they’re too cliquey,” Percy cringes, realising just too late that cliquey dolphins are not something discussed in marine biology literature.
Dr Greene stares at him, eyebrows raised in scepticism. Then she sighs, “Well, we’ve tried everything else. Maybe some new friends are what Zuma needs,” very suddenly chirps and clicks of happiness sprout from the tank and Zuma swims quickly to slide underneath Percy's hand trailing in the water and steal a pat.
“She certainly likes you,” Dr Greene laughed.
“I have that effect on sea animals sometimes,” Percy blushed.
Zuma was relocated to one of the permanent enclosures where all of the dolphins who were the only ones of their species were kept, and by the afternoon she was happier than Anita Greene could remember seeing her act.
“That boy is going to be an astounding asset to marine biology,” she thought.
She offered Percy a part-time job the next day.