Saltwater

Percy

As I looked out at the SS Asphodel through my spyglass, my mind was reeling. Annabeth and I had been planning this ever since we got wind of a wedding. There were little details in the gossip, and many of those details had lost my mind, but a wedding means a dowry. And a dowry means we'll be rich. It's right in front of us now, I don't need the spyglass really, it's just nice to see it in detail before you burn it down.

But then... I saw something fall off of the bowsprit. Or... Someone.

"Are we ready?" She asked behind me, startling me a little.

I lowered the spyglass. "... You all go on ahead. I need to do something." 

I handed it to her and, without hesitation, jumped overboard, ignoring her screeches of "Are you mad!?"

I swam to the spot, forcing my eyes to stay open even in seawater, and sure enough, there was a boy. He was completely still, but I grabbed him by the armpits and dragged him to the surface, to one of our escape boats. Even if he was already dead, at least I could say I did something. 

I laid him on his back and pressed a finger to his neck. I felt a pulse, faint and slow, but proof that he was alive. Then, I leaned down and pressed my mouth to his, forcing air into his lungs and out of mine. Just like that, he began to cough up the water, his eyes still closed, spluttering, gasping for air between the coughing fits, even gagging once or twice. He was still panting by the time his eyes opened, deep brown and rimmed with red, and he was shaking very badly. I moved to hold him, but he recoiled from my touch. That was when he decided to speak.

"... Who... What... Where am I?"

I decided to answer that last question first. "You're on The Andromeda. Well, you will be, anyway."

That only seemed to confuse him more. "Why am I not on my own ship?"

I laughed sheepishly. "Um... It's... It isn't safe."

"What do you mean it isn't safe?" He asked. "Who are you?"

"Percy Jackson, how do you do?" I stuck my hand out, as if I met him at a tavern and not from his nearly dying. I didn't think it was possible, but his face became even paler at the mention of my name, and I was reminded that it didn't have the cleanest reputation. And that was by choice, I have nobody else to blame. I sighed, stood up, and began to pull us back up.

"... You! You... You and your-... Aaaugh!" He tried to stand up, but his legs seemed to be buckling under him, and he had to lean on me for support. "You dirty criminals, infidels, brutes, miscreants, killers and thieves, all of you!" He spat out, every insult punctuated with a weak punch to my chest. 

I looked down at him, the rope still in my hands. "I did save your live, y'know. You could show a little gratitude."

"I wish you didn't." He spat back. 

I ignored that. Once I'd tied the pulley back in place, I looked down at him. "Now, will you be able to get out yourself?"

He glared up at me. "I'm not a baby." He scolded, pushing himself off of my body, before nearly falling over the railing. 

I put a hand on his back. "Are you sure you'll be alright without my help?"

"I'm fine." He insisted, throwing one of his legs over the ledge.

I went ahead and stepped out of the boat. The minute I turned my back, however, I heard a thud and a groan. When I turned back to him, he was lying face down on the floor. I knelt next to him and offered a hand. "Are you hurt?"

With much effort, he was able to sit upright, his legs tucked under his thighs. He stared at my hand for a while before sighing in defeat and accepting it. "I don't know why I'm so weak."

I pulled him up and kept him steady. "You almost drowned, that's why. Is there anything you need?"

"Well, a towel would be nice. And a change of clothes."

I smiled down at him. "Sure thing. I've got plenty in my closet, we just need to get you there." 

I walked him across the deck, up the staircase, and into my room, where I sat him down on a stool before handing him a towel and turning my back to him to open my closet. At random, I picked out one of my shirts and a pair of my drawers. After some thought, I put the first shirt back and pulled out a thicker one, and a pair of socks too. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep him warm.

When I turned to give them to him, he was already nude, and I was horrified by how thin he was. His skin clung tightly to his bones, and even in the dark of night, I could make out their shapes, imagine how it would feel to run my hands across them. I remembered the days before I chose this life, when I was small and living in the streets of Cadiz with my mother. Even before then, before we became outlaws, back when we lived under Gabriel's lazy, cruel, whiskey-soaked thumb. Had I looked like that once? Had she felt the same mix of horror and pity wash over her when she saw me?

He turned his face to me, instantly flushed with embarrassment and rage, trying to cover himself with the towel. "D-don't look at me, you pervert!"

I averted my eyes, and held the clothes out for him to grab. "I'm sorry. Truly, I am." When I felt the clothes escape my grasp, I turned completely away, closing my eyes for good measure. After a long while, I dared to speak again. "Are you decent now?"

"I am."

I looked back to him. My shirt was barely hanging onto his shoulders, and the way that his midnight-black hair was sticking up, the way he looked up at me... My heart began to twist again. I offered my hand, but this time, he didn't take it. He just stood and stumbled to the bed. Thankfully, he was able to lay down in it before he tripped over his own feet again. 

"... Are you coming to bed too?"

I shook my head. "I need to tend to my ship and my crew. They should be back any minute now. You go ahead and rest."