Summary: After falling into a sacred pool of water during a magical ritual for the full moon, land-boy Percy inherits the powers of mermaids. Banished from the pod for letting a human tread on their consecrated island, mermaids Annabeth, Piper, and Hazel must take the power from him in order to rejoin their family. But the island’s secrets go deeper than any of them realize. FF.net / AO3
There was nothing.
And then there was water.
Lots of water.
He had been dropped so suddenly, he didn’t even have time to cling to one final breath. The air was knocked out of him, like a punch to the chest. He drifted there, bubbles licking at his bare arms and legs, pulling him down down down - no - hands, fingers pulling him, pushing, drowning. The water, white in the full moonlight, was endless. No sound, except for his heartbeat, thrummed in his ears. There was no escape. A startlingly sober thought crossed his mind: I’m going to die here.
The fingers were cold, firm, yanking him out of the moon’s eye, the darkness tunnelling his vision. His eyes drifted shut, whatever life left in him fading as fast as the light. His lungs burned like he’d sucked in an entire bonfire, but another warmth - low in his belly - wrapped around him until it consumed his entire body, like a blanket on a winter’s night. He yearned for air, gasping for it, but got water instead.
The dark was all he had.
Then he was nothing.
It was kind of a weird thing, waking up.
Not necessarily the ‘waking up’ bit, but more of the 'waking up on a beach with no idea about how he got there’ part. That was confusing.
When he blinked his eyes open, all he saw was cloudless blue sky, the kind of blue that makes you feel small and sort of stupid because it’s just too pure to be that blue blue. Wind whispered through the palm trees, making their branches shimmy and shake; it sounded like white noise in his addle-brained state. The ocean hissed against the reef, tumbling with a roar as it crashed over itself in white capped mountains, then lapped at the beach.
His clothes were warm, baked by the high summer sun. His chest rose and fell, in tune with the waves. The air was crisp, fresh, and smelled distinctly like salt. He wiggled his toes inside his Chucks and gripped his fingers through the hot sand. It raked through his fingers, grit getting under his nails.
Then the ocean started calling to him.