Pirate Jackson - A Percy Jackson AU

Chapter 1

The morning was sunny and clear, the sky a pale blue offset by the rich turquoise of the water beneath it. The docks shook as men stomped around, loading and unloading crates and barrels and calling out to ships as they docked. Tearful mothers and sisters waved farewell to departing family members. Waves crashed against the sides of the docked vessels and the spray splashed the children running around underfoot of the working sailors, getting cursed at as they dashed merrily on their way. All in all, a lovely day out at sea.

Or, in Percy's case, next to the sea.

It was the "next to" that kept Percy from truly reveling the sight of ship captains and crew hauling boxes and tail, then setting sail into the vast unknown. Rather than enjoying it, the very sight made Percy want to regurgitate his breakfast.

It should've been him in the middle of the ocean, surrounded on all sides by nothing but sparkling water. His grandfather was a sailor, his father was a captain; the ocean was in his blood! But while ships came and went, Percy stayed where he was: standing next to his step father as he tried to peddle the fruit left on the stand in front of them.

"Fresh fruit!" Paul hollered over the din. "Freshest fruit in the Caribbean! Best prices in all the world!"

Percy sighed. The same worn call every day, every month, every year . . . nothing ever differed. Ironically, he knew of a fruit stand not a mile from them with better prices, but luckily for Paul, most passerby were just stopping in port and not locals that knew better.

Paul took a break from shouting to lean over to his step son. "You think ya' might be able to watch the stand for me for a bit? I've gotta handle some business with Mother Nature leftover from last night's dinner."

Percy grimaced at his implication, but stood up straighter nonetheless. "Yeah, sure Paul. I can handle it."

"'Atta boy!" Paul slapped his shoulder and winked. "Remember my motto, eh kid? 'In order to sell the fruit to the people - "'

" - you have to sell the fruit with your words, I got it Paul."

"There ya go! And, ya know," he leaned in a bit and smiled, "you can always call me Dad if ya feel like it."

With a final slap on the shoulder, Paul was gone. His parting words floated in a bubble around Percy's head for a second or two as he nearly considered complying to the request, then popped with an almighty burst. Percy felt a little guilty for never calling him "Dad" like he wanted, but Paul was not his father. It's not that he was bad father, per se, in fact just the opposite. But Paul was a lanky, middle-aged and balding fruit vendor that laughed like a choked walrus. Percy's real dad was a strong, handsome captain that laughed loud enough for it to echo across the sea and bounce back, and told stories in such a way that he had the entire room's attention after the first two words. Percy's real dad would put young Percy on his shoulder and march him across the deck of his ship to show him off to the crew, and always had women pining over him but chose Percy's mom over them every time. Percy's real dad survived sea storms and destroyed pirate ships and was more incredible than Percy could ever dream of being.

Percy's real dad had been lost at sea.

He closed his eyes for a moment to clear his thoughts. It wouldn't do to dwell on the past, especially when he was currently solely in charge of their small family's complete income. Getting distracted was not something he should be doing.

When he opened his eyes again, he was surprised to see a girl with dark brown hair and a matching dark complexion now stood in front of him, examining the fruit. She seemed about his age, possibly younger (he couldn't get a proper gauge when her head was bent over the stand, hiding her face), and he could tell from her dress with all of its complicated ribbons and ties that she came from wealth. Wealthy people were the best to sell to, because they didn't care how much money they spent. If he played it right, he might get her to buy half the stall.