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LiFS Chapter 40 - Getting Wet
🕑 Added 2025-04-04 05:21:22 +0000 UTCGrocery shopping with Vicky was (thank the gods) much less overwhelming than clothes shopping had been. That wasn’t to say that it wasn’t st
Grocery shopping with Vicky was (thank the gods) much less overwhelming than clothes shopping had been. That wasn’t to say that it wasn’t still a lot, but I was starting to learn that that was just Vicky being Vicky. She was just kind of a lot.
The more time I spent with her, the more she reminded me of an older version of one of the new campers who’d shown up in the wake of our victory over Kronos; Gala, who’d been quickly claimed by her mother Thalia (not that Thalia), Muse of comedy. Even without her aura, Vicky’s enthusiasm and positivity were contagious, lighting up everything and everyone around her. With it active––a tickle in the back of my mind that had my eyes wandering in her direction whenever I wasn’t focused on something else––it was like there was a spotlight shining down on her from the heavens, illuminating her and everything around her in dazzling color.
It was definitely a little bit overwhelming, but in a good way instead of the much more common ‘overwhelming dread and misery’ kind of way. She made it easy to smile. Easy to forget just how far from home I was. When I fell silent, turning the bright blue mixing bowl I’d have never even considered someday needing to buy just a few weeks ago over and over in my hands, she put a hand strong enough to bend steel and shatter stone gently on my arm and talked enough for the two of us until the moment had passed.
By the time we finally headed back towards the apartment, the sun had long since set and a stiff breeze was blowing towards the sea. Shopping had taken a lot longer than I’d been expecting, possibly the longest I’d ever been in a grocery store all at once. We’d started by grabbing the ingredients we needed for a simple dinner and chocolate chip cookies, but then Vicky had realized that the apartment only had the bare minimum of furnishings and was missing cookie-making essentials like baking sheets, mixing bowls, and measuring cups. One thing led to another and it was only when we were discussing the merits of a very reasonably priced stand mixer that I realized just how full my shopping cart had gotten and we finally decided to wrap things up.
Between that and how long it had taken Vicky to get ready to go (in defiance of stereotypes she’d been fully dressed before I was, but needed to charge her phone before we could leave), we were starting to get very hungry. In hindsight, that might have contributed to just how much we’d ended up buying. I probably didn’t need to buy two fifty-pound bags of rice, but they were both very reasonably priced and Vicky had a coupon!
We were both loaded down with bags––not that any reasonable (or slightly unreasonable) amount of groceries and household essentials could really slow either of us down––and the bored-looking man who checked our receipts at the sliding doors gave us a strange look when we returned our shopping cart and headed down the sidewalk with our bulging plastic bags instead of turning into the parking lot.
…that was probably the rice’s fault now that I thought about it. Vicky had grabbed both of those sacks from the bottom of the cart with one finger each, a show of strength beyond any teenage blonde in the city bar one.
It was a beautiful evening. The clouds of this morning’s drizzle had cleared, revealing a sky speckled with sparkling stars and a bright gibbous moon. Not wanting to ruin my good mood, I studiously kept my eyes away from the patch of sky I knew should have held the Huntress running alongside my long-dead half-brother. Him I could see, Orion with his bright belt still stalking across the western sky.
Beside me, Vicky sighed softly and tilted her head back, her long hair cascading down her back in a silvery-blonde river that fluttered gently in the breeze. She languidly swung her arms back and forth with every step, the bottoms of some of the bags she was carrying passing dangerously close to the rough cement beneath our feet. I was pretty sure she was cheating with her powers––she wasn’t quite tall enough to carry the rice like that without it touching the ground––but I wasn’t going to say anything.
“You know,” she told me, still looking up at the sky, “this would go much faster if you’d let me fly us back to the apartment. I bet we could be there in like…thirty seconds, and it's a great night for flying.”
She must have seen me wrinkle my nose at the idea––I didn’t want to say anything but I very much preferred to keep my feet either firmly planted or submerged––because she turned to look at me with a slightly confounded expression on her face. “Are you like, scared of heights or something?” she asked, sounding deeply dubious about the idea. “You know I haven’t dropped anyone in ages, right?” She paused. “I mean um…forget I said that. And even if I did, you’re almost as much of a Brute as I am. Mom would yell at me about it after, but you’d be totally fine!”
I looked back at her silently and she flushed and looked at the ground, the red of her cheeks bright in the light pouring through the big windows of the restaurant we were passing by. “It was one time,” she mumbled, and then her voice rose into an adorable whine, “and anyway Aunt Sarah can fly too so it basically doesn’t count!”
I snorted in amusement and Vicky swiped at me with the rice, potatoes, and a set of mixing bowls in three shades of blue. I danced out of the way and had to abort my counterattack when I remembered there were eggs in one of the bags in my left hand. Vicky dodged anyway, confirming that she’d been hovering an inch off the ground this entire time by shooting a few feet to the side in the blink of an eye.
“It's not funny!”
“It definitely is.” I screwed up my face and did my best to mimic Carol’s voice, “This is why we practice, young lady! What would people think if––”
“Gah, don’t do that!” Vicky sounded more amused than angry, but I still stopped.
We continued walking, soon turning onto the street where my new apartment stood.“So…are you scared of heights?” Vicky asked again.
I hummed noncommittally. “Not really. But I still don’t like flying very much.”
Vicky looked at me like I’d just kicked a puppy down a flight of stairs. “How can you not like flying?!” she exclaimed, “Flying is like, the best thing ever!”
I’d argue that swimming was way more fun, but we were probably both a little biased. “It's not that I dislike the actual flying,” I clarified. I had more fond memories of coasting through the sky on Blackjack’s back than unpleasant ones. “Rather, well…okay.. Flying was dangerous for me back home, so I mostly avoided it. It's a little bit complicated”
“How so?”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts and figure out how to say things properly. I’d told Crystal about the whole Zeus blasting me out of the sky thing before, but I’d also learned a lot more about how things worked in this world since then. Vicky didn’t interrupt me. She could talk and talk and talk, but she also listened. “So, I’ve told you a bit about how the cape demographics in my world are different from what you have here on Earth Bet, right?”
Vicky nodded. “Less capes in general, but a lot more second and third generation capes that come from particularly powerful parents, right?”
“Exactly. So um, one of those really powerful capes was a metro-kinetic. Wait no, that doesn’t sound right. Atmo…oh, whatever. He could control the weather—storms, lightning bolts, that sort of thing.”
“An atmokinetic, then,” Vicky said casually, “There’s a couple in the Protectorate, and the Sentai Elite apparently have a really powerful one.”
“Right, what you said. Anyway, he and my dad really didn’t get along. They were technically on the same side, but they fought and argued with each other all the time, and that attitude sort of carried over. I needed to fly somewhere for a quest, and after he told me if he ever caught me in his domain again, he’d blast me out of the sky with one of his lightning bolts, and he definitely wasn’t joking. He’s done it before. Ever since then, I’ve tried to avoid flying unless it was absolutely necessary.”
Vicky looked horrified. “That’s terrible!” she exclaimed. “How could he get away with doing something like that?”
I smiled at her ruefully. “Because he was powerful. Because no one powerful enough to tell him no would tell him no.”
Vicky was silent until we were walking up the steps to the sixth floor. “That sucks,” she said finally, “but you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Flying is my favorite thing about my powers, and flying with other people is even better than doing it by myself.” She looked up at me through her long lashes. “I hope someday you’ll be comfortable enough to let me share that with you.”
I couldn’t help but smile at how earnest she sounded. I doubted I’d ever be fully comfortable flying––demigod instincts were hard to shake––but maybe she’d be able to prove me wrong. I had enjoyed flying with Blackjack after all. Vicky wasn’t a pegasus, but maybe it wouldn’t be so different?
“Maybe,” I said eventually, and Vicky’s smile lit up that stairwell like a flashbang.
“Great! I’ll hold you to that!”
Despite having just gone grocery shopping, by the time we had everything perishable put away and everything else piled into a heap on the kitchen counter, we were both much too hungry to cook. Vicky pulled up Squawk on her not-quite-dead phone and ordered an extra-large pizza from a spot just down the road that had good reviews.
They told us it wouldn’t take long to prepare, so Vicky offered to fly over and grab it, leaving me alone in my apartment for the very first time. That was when it really hit me.
My apartment.
I’d always assumed that someday I’d have my own place. That was sort of the way of things, right? What exactly that looked like in my head had evolved over the years, but a few things had stayed consistent. It had always included my mother, either in the same building or maybe nearby. For some time it had included Annabeth, and maybe a white picket fence and two-point-five kids if I was very, very lucky.
My apartment.
It felt almost like a betrayal. Too permanent. Like I’d given up on going hove after not even two weeks. I looked at the bags of rice, the mixing bowls, the cute towel with waves and starfish on it that Vicky had snuck into the cart, and had to sit down before I fell down.
My apartment.
I hadn’t really planned this. Well, I sort of had, but it felt a lot more real now than when I was sitting in the library considering my options. I hadn’t made any progress on going home. Had barely thought about making real progress. I could have easily swam out to the spot where I’d emerged into Earth Bet, or tried to press the Protectorate to help me get home instead of situating me like this. I didn’t know if anything would have come of it, but I could have done it!
Instead…I’d just made it harder for myself to leave. I’d made friends. Maybe more than friends. I’d asked to join a superhero team. I’d gotten an apartment. I’d promised to pay Carol back for all the legal help she’d given me. I’d dismantled an entire supervillain group partially single-handed and they’d talked about me on the national news for something I did instead of something that happened to me.
My chest hurt, a twin ache deep in my gut and beneath my ribs. My eyes were dry, but outside I could hear the wind starting to pick up and the first heavy droplets of rain splatter against the windows. Waves crashed in time to the rhythm of my heart, the sea echoing the turmoil inside me and feeding back into it.
I squeezed my eyes shut and my fingers tightened on the brim of Annabeth’s Yankees Cap of Invisibility until my knuckles were white. I didn’t remember retrieving it from where it usually stayed hidden in the mist-cloaked fanny pack I always wore, and I half-wished I hadn’t. I didn’t want to look at it, it hurt so much to look at it, but I was so glad to be holding it in my hands anyway. No matter how tightly I held them closed, tears finally began to leak down my nose and cheeks, falling soundlessly onto the couch beneath me.
Half-hearted drops became a torrential downpour between one moment and the next. Rain pounded against the windows and hammered the roof overhead. Water practically gushed through the half open window and rolled down the wall onto the carpet in a waterfall, but I didn’t have the presence of mind to will it away just yet.
The sea boiled, pain bleeding into fury. Waves crashed upon empty beaches and pounded against rusted hulls and stone breakwaters. Small ships in small peers rocked as they rose and fell, hulls banging against wood and concrete as they strained against thick ropes and sturdy chains. Something far, far away sang to me, a familiar melody I couldn’t place even if I wanted to. It rose and fell in time with the pounding in my veins, sharp and old and heavy with power. Through the song I saw a dark shadow haunting my domain, and I hated it, hated it, hated it.
My hand curled into a fist and in an instant Riptide was there, the shining blade of Celestial Bronze glowing like a brand beneath the hot iridescent lights. The air felt painfully thin as though I was high above the clouds, and my breathing grew fast and heavy. I wanted to move. To fight. I could feel too many eyes on my skin, each one a tiny burning coal piled upon me in a mound that dwarfed Mount Olympus. The walls were closing in on me, the ceiling too low and the floor too high.
The sea called to me, louder than I’d ever heard it before, ichor roaring in veins. It sounded like home, but not. A different instrument playing a mother’s gentle lullaby. There was no palace of pearl, sea stone, and abalone to be found beneath these waters. No father to return home too, brothers to train with, nor merpeople to rule and protect.
My head drooped even as the storm outside raged on. My arm fell until Anaklusmos lay across my lap, tears glittering like tiny gems as they fell upon the blade. “Dad?” I whispered, “Poseidon? Please?” The silence in my mind was deafening. I didn’t always get a response to my prayers, but it felt different this time. Dad wasn’t busy or barred from answering by Ancient Law. Dad couldn’t hear me.
And then the door to the apartment flew open and a ray of sunshine swept into the entryway. Vicky’s hair hung limply around her shoulders and clung to her neck and forehead. Her blue sweater, the white tank-top beneath it, and her jeans were all soaked nearly through, and I could feel the water sloshing around inside her pristine white tennis shoes. She should have looked like a drowned rat, but instead she carried the pizza box in her arms like a conquering queen.
The plastic trash bag wrapped around it dripped water onto the floor, but the pizza within was fresh from the oven and kept protected from the elements. She pulled the bag away and the air filled with the mouthwatering scents of freshly baked bread, tangy tomato sauce, fragrant herbs, and still-molten cheese.
“One extra large pizza, half-pepperoni half-margarita!” she announced with pride. “Delivered safe and sound in five minutes or less or your money back!” She posed dramatically in mid air, then flew over to the kitchen counter and set the pizza box down before returning to the entryway and kneeling down to remove her shoes.
“The weather outside is cray-zee! I thought the forecast said it was supposed to be clear till tomorrow, but it came on so fast! One moment it was totally clear, the next it was just pouring like out of a faucet! I’m glad it's not too cold or the roads would be really bad in the morning.”
I stared at her through blurry eyes as she took off one shoe and then the other, removing the insoles and then propping them carefully against the wall so that they could dry. The whole time she didn’t stop talking, the warm grin on her face in stark contrast to the cold rainwater water dripping from her hair, skin, and clothing.
“It's a good thing we went shopping early! I wouldn’t want to be carrying groceries through this kind of weather, and who knows how long it will last? Do you mind if I use the kitchen towel we got to dry off a little? I don’t want to drip on the new carpets. I should have most of a change of clothes in my purse and I can fly home so I’ll just carry my wet shoes. Oh damn the pizza smells so good. Maybe it's a good thing I had to wrap it up on the way or I’d have had to stop and eat a few slices before I even got here. I can’t wait to––”
And then she finally looked up and saw me watching her from the couch. I must have looked like a total mess, but she didn’t even seem to notice. Her eyes scanned the room, lingering on Riptide in my lap before going to the open window.
“Oh no, Percy, the window!” she exclaimed. She shot across the room and slammed the window shut, cutting off the veritable fountain flooding through it. She bent at the waist to examine the floor and made a pained sound. “Oh this is going to be such a pain to clean up. We need to hurry before it soaks into the floorboards and ruins––”
I blinked wearily, then gestured towards her. The carpet dried out. The water still dripping down the wall and the streams running along the floor towards the kitchen vanished. Her clothing went from soaked to looking freshly laundered, and her hair regained its usually smooth luster.
“Oh,” she said again. Her hands went to her hair, brushing the long strands back before raising a clump to her eyes to examine. “Damn, Crystal wasn’t lying. As good as a blow dry indeed!” She laughed, sweet as summer strawberries. “I totally forgot you could do that. Mind getting my shoes too? They’re new and I was going to wear them tomorrow even if I don’t need them tonight.”
“Yeah…sure…” I told her haltingly.
“Thanks Percy!” She sighed dramatically as she stood up, “You know it's almost a bummer you did that, not that I’ll say no to a dry bra! But I have the cutest top and mini-skirt in my purse and––” she turned around and finally took a good look at me, cutting off mid word as she did. “Oh god, Percy are you okay?” She rushed over to the couch and sat down beside me, bending over to look at my blank face. I just stared back at her, my voice caught behind a lump in my throat bigger than the minotaur’s fist.
She watched me for several long seconds, her eyes as sharp and intense as her mother’s. Then she looked around the room again, slowly and carefully as though inspecting it for the first time. “Oh,” she said a third time, her voice heavy. “I’m sorry Percy. I should have realized. Did you mostly live with your family before…”
She trailed off and I nodded, not trusting my voice.
She put her hand on my leg, her touch light and gentle. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost any of them. Not after Aunt Jess. Mom, Dad, Amy, Crystal…Aunt Sarah and Uncle Neil…” She tried to inject some levity into her words, “I could probably manage without Eric. He’s a bit of an annoying brat sometimes.” Then her voice grew serious again. “Much less all of them in a single day. You’ve been putting on a strong face, but it's been hard on you, huh?”
I didn’t stop her when she put an arm around my shoulders and rested her head against my arm. She was warm and solid against me, and even though I’d dried her off fully, a faint tang of sea breeze hung over her like a sweet perfume.
Outside, the rain was starting to die down. It would be some time yet before it cleared completely, but the worst was past. Despite myself, my lips curled into a tiny smile as I considered why Vicky would have a cute top and mini-skirt in the big purse she’d left here when we’d headed to the store. It really was a shame for all that effort to go to waste, wasn’t it?
Vicky yelped and pulled away. “Percy!” she whined. She plucked at her newly re-soaked tank top and glared at the jeans which looked noticeably darker than they had a moment earlier. Then she paused and pulled the tank top away from her chest to peer down at the skin-tone bra she wore beneath it. It was bone dry, as was her sweater.
“Touché.” She smiled. “That’s french for ‘fuck you.’”
“But I thought you wanted to get to know me first?”
We both laughed, and then she was kissing me. That was kind of a lot too. But in a good way.
The pizza was delicious.
Comments
Alex Woll
Looks like Vicky is finally getting her shot
