Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

On the worst days of quests, Percy always secretly looked forward to going home. When he was hurt or hungry or tired, he couldn’t help but miss it; their little apartment at the knife edge of Hell’s Kitchen felt like the safest place in the world.

He had his own bedroom, and it wasn’t clean, but everything in it belonged to him. It had an attached bathroom, one he shared with his mother, whose room was attached on the other side. He could hear her get up and walk around when she went to the bathroom at night, and she was always knew when he was awake late. The door had a lock, a chain, and a deadbolt, and there was a baseball bat right next to it, within easy reach. There was a stash of easy snacks in the bottom drawer in the kitchen, and another in his closet.

It didn’t look anything like where they’d lived with Smelly Gabe. The walls were painted soft blue, and there was art on the walls, kitschy stuff Sally had picked up at indie places. None of the furniture matched, and they had rips in the upholstery. Most of it just smelled like Sally’s favorite air freshener. Some of it, like his mom’s favorite chair, smelled like her.

After the awful week he’d had away from home, he was relieved to be heading back so soon. He missed his mother, and he was certain she’d know how to make him feel better after the week's grief and terror. The junkyard, and the stars, and the one demigod Percy wished would just die.

If he was lucky, he could even forget about the end of the world for a while. Athena’s warning snapped at his heels, and he felt antsy and unhappy.

Too impatient to wait in the elevator, he raced up the stairs, and then slowed down as he approached the apartment door, frowning. There was a raised voice on the other side – a guy Percy didn’t recognize, shouting. His heart picked up in his chest, and he scowled, speeding up again. Panic and rage tangled together.

“-lied to me, Sally! He lied to me for years, I can’t- God, I just want to-! How does he think I’m supposed to trust him now? How could I ever trust him again?”

Who was yelling? Who the fuck was yelling at his mom?

Fumbling in his haste, Percy forced his way through the door and turned to take in the whole of the room.

His mom was in the living room, standing across from a man Percy didn’t recognize – blond, round-cheeked, flushed with obvious rage and wild eyes, pacing across the room. His whole body was taut and aggressive. Sally was tracking him with just her eyes, lips pressed tight together. She looked pale.

Percy moved.

In a second, he’d placed himself between Sally and the stranger. Sally gasped, but he didn’t look back, instead facing the stranger defiantly. He could feel his heartbeat pounding, his body already bracing to protect his mom no matter what he had to do.

“Get away from my mom,” Percy snapped, his voice strung thin like an overwound guitar string. His fists clenched so hard his nails dug into his palms. He was pretty sure he was shaking.

Looking startled, the man took two steps back, hands raising as if in surrender. It didn’t help. “Shit, you’re right, that was out of line-”

“No, get out!” Percy shouted, fueled by an awful sucking feeling in his chest. The man hesitated, and Percy snarled at him, a loud whine ringing in his ears. “Out!”

At least two faucets snapped on, and the room trembled faintly. The pipes wheezed with strain. Percy kept his eyes on the stranger, adrenaline flooding him like he’d come face to face with the Minotaur again.

No one touched his mom.

“You should go, Foggy, I promise to call you when I can,” Sally said hastily, and then her hand was on Percy’s arm and she was gently turning him to face her, Percy going along with it without thinking. “Everything is okay, Percy, I promise, you don’t need to be worried. Have you been traveling long, do you want something to eat?”

The stranger looked hesitant, looking between Percy and Sally for a long moment, but Sally made a slight gesture toward the door, and the man exhaled, took a half-step back, and then stormed briskly out.

Percy looked up just as the door shut behind the man, and only relaxed a little. He looked back at Sally, wary resentment still chewing on his lungs. He was breathing hard. “Who was that?”

He winced at the pained look on Sally’s face – he hadn’t meant to ignore her. He felt jittery, like there was static running up and down his bones.

There weren’t supposed to be men in this apartment. Just him and his mom.

She didn’t look hurt. But his mom was good at hiding it. It wasn’t much comfort.

“That was Foggy Nelson,” Sally said. She steered him toward the couch, and he let himself be pulled down to sit on it. “I- well, we’ve been seeing each other for a while, but I was hoping to introduce him under... better circumstances.”

“Better circumstances,” Percy echoed flatly, glancing at the door again. He couldn’t make himself relax, some part of him still convinced that he’d narrowly prevented disaster. The rest of him was still tangled in spartae and armies and the promise of disaster in his future.

“I wanted to give you time to get used to the idea first,” Sally murmured, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. “After Gabe, I’m sure you’re not exactly excited by the idea of another man in our life. I was hoping to make it easy on you.”

Percy looked away sharply.

They... hadn’t really talked about Smelly Gabe. As if once Sally had sold his statue, they’d both decided it had never happened. Percy preferred it that way. The stinky old slimeball didn’t deserve to be remembered. But sometimes he was there anyway, whenever Percy’s nose caught a stench that was just the right shade of rotten.

“Whatever,” Percy muttered, scuffing the floor with his dirty shoes. And then, unable to help himself, “That guy seemed like a dick. He was yelling at you.”

“I’ve never seen him like that,” Sally sighed, glancing at the door with clear concern. “It wasn’t about me, Percy - he and his best friend had a falling-out. I wasn’t able to glean much more than that, I’m afraid.”

His mom was the sweetest in the world, and it didn’t deserve her and it never, ever treated her right. It made Percy’s heart clench painfully, so tight he felt briefly sick with it. “You wouldn’t stay with him if he hurt you. Right?”

“He wouldn’t get the time of day,” Sally promised softly, reaching out to squeeze Percy’s hand. “Honest, Percy. I wasn’t even frightened. Foggy is a very gentle man.”

It wasn’t completely true; his mother had been a little too still while Foggy paced.  But his mom wouldn’t lie to him either, not about this. Percy scowled, rubbed his arm roughly, and looked at the door again. He still felt unsettled, and he didn’t know how far Foggy would have gone. He didn’t want him here; this apartment was for Percy and his mom.

Sally exhaled again, soft and unhappy, with too much weight in the air between them. She reached up and ran her fingers through Percy’s hair, and Percy tilted his head into her hand without thinking.

“You’ve gotten gray,” Sally murmured teasingly, tugging at a lock. Percy managed half a laugh and a tired smile.

“I held up the sky for a while,” he said. “It was pretty heavy.”

Pride gleamed in Sally’s eyes, and it made Percy feel warm. “You’ll have to tell me all about it.”

Percy nodded without hesitation. “It’s been a hell of a week,” he said, more honestly than he’d meant. The weight of it seemed to bear down on him - the long night they'd spent searching Talos' remains, the near-miss as Thorn cornered them, the argument over Bessie's fate and Athena's dire warning. He gave in to the urge to tuck himself against Sally’s side, pressing his cheek to her shoulder. “Mom? Is that guy gonna be over a lot?”

Sally squeezed his hand. “Not until you get used to him, sweetheart. Foggy and I can meet elsewhere for a while.”

Percy bit his tongue, and then said, “You don’t have to.” He could deal with yelling if it made his mom happy.

“I want you to feel safe at home,” Sally said firmly. “That’s more important.”

Gods, Percy loved his mom. His chest loosened. “Okay. Cool.”

He got up, locked the door, and pulled the chain. He lingered there for a few moments, staring at the doorknob. It occurred to him that he probably wouldn’t get another chance like this for a while, where he could ask this without upsetting Sally more than he had to.

“Mom? Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

Percy took a breath, then turned to face his mom. It was the least she deserved.

“Did you know Gabe was hitting me?” he asked. “I won’t be mad if you say yes. Talons hurt a lot more than fists.”

Maybe it shouldn’t matter anymore, in the light of everything that had happened in the last couple years. Compared to Luke, compared to Kronos, Smelly Gabe was nothing. But the thought had been bothering him since he finally understood why Sally really stayed with Gabe.

As a kid, he’d always assumed that Sally didn’t know. With childish logic, he’d figured that Gabe had to be important to Sally somehow, for her to put up with how he treated her. And he’d assumed that Sally would leave if she knew. But he hadn’t wanted to be the reason she gave up whatever was so important to her about Gabe, so he’d kept it a secret. But if the price for leaving was Percy’s life, there would have been damn near nothing Gabe could do to make Sally leave. And Sally- Sally never seemed to miss anything. Now there was a hurt little boy in the back of Percy's head that wouldn't shut up, and he needed answers.

Sally flinched, and a haunted shadow passed briefly behind her eyes, which never left his. She clasped her hands together tightly, and despite himself, Percy felt a little bad for asking. He’d missed all the signs that his mom was getting hurt, back then.

He wondered if he’d know if Sally was being hit again, and tried not to panic.

“Yes, I knew,” she said at last, quietly. Though it had been a year and a half since Gabe had disappeared, she looked guilty. “I wasn’t sure how much. But I knew.”

For no particular reason, Percy nodded. He felt wrung out, almost sore after the non-confrontation; that was probably because of the shitty week. “Wasn’t a lot.”

“I’m sorry, Percy,” Sally added, concerned eyes on him. Just that melted half the tension away, a familiar warmth and softness that had never let him down. “I know this wasn’t what you needed when you came home. Why don’t you sit back down and tell me what you got up to over the last week? I’m sure it was incredible.”

Percy smiled despite himself, relaxing almost completely. Right; with the door shut and locked, it was just him and his mother in the apartment, the way it was supposed to be. He left the door, crossed the room, and sat down beside her, tugging his feet up to the cushion.

“We found Nico and Bianca alright,” he said, low and rough at first, and only slowly gaining momentum as Sally nodded encouragingly. “One of the teachers was a manticore though, and took them out back-”

Percy was lucky; he’d missed the last week of school instead of the first week of winter break, which would’ve been the shit icing on top of the rotten cake. So he didn’t have to go back to school for another two weeks, and he got to spend the whole time with his mom.

It’d be his second really good Christmas to date.

He slept through most of his first day back, because it turned out that quests were exhausting, especially one-week-whirlwind quests. The second, he and his mom sat in the living room, ate junk food, and watched zombie movies. On the third day, Sally told Percy that she was going to bring lunch for Foggy and his coworkers, and she gently invited Percy to come along.

“We can leave the moment you say so,” Sally promised him, running her fingers through his hair. “But we aren’t likely to be interrupting anything either.”

Percy didn’t really want to, but he knew that was his own stubbornness speaking. To be honest, there probably wasn’t much any mortal could do to hurt him anymore- or his mother, when Percy was standing right there. Anyway, his mom wanted him to try to give this guy a chance.

Percy would always try, for Sally.

So he tagged along after her, fidgeting with Riptide on their way into the building. It was an old, rickety place, and Sally seemed to know her way around well. It was a few turns to get to the office labeled ‘Nclzen and Murbuck’ – or something - where Sally knocked twice on the door before letting herself in. Percy edged in after her, uncomfortable, and immediately retreated to a corner.

“Sally!” a blonde woman exclaimed, looking relieved. “I’m so glad you came, Foggy’s going to be thrilled- did you bring food?” She didn’t wait for an answer before raising her voice to call, “Foggy! Your girlfriend brought us lunch again! Matt, stop sulking in your office!”

Foggy was the first to emerge from one of the side doors, peeking inside cautiously. Percy grudgingly admitted that he looked less intimidating outside of the apartment, when Percy was expecting him – he wasn’t particularly large, and he looked soft. Friendly. Then again, he wasn’t angry right now; people looked different when they were angry.

Besides that, Percy was pretty sure he was at least a decade younger than Sally, maybe more. His suit fit awkwardly, though barely enough so for Percy to notice. He seemed delighted to see Sally, but he met Percy’s eyes by accident and jumped about a foot.

“Sally!” Foggy said after a moment, giving Sally an awkward grin. “Sally, beautiful, delightful to see you here as always, and also pretty good to see that I haven’t scared your son too badly to come within ten feet of me, hi, Percy.”

Percy mumbled something and fidgeted harder, gaze locked to the floor. Apropos of nothing, an image flashed through his head - the memory of Nico's hurt and rage. He pushed it away, and the other door opened, drawing his attention as a man in sunglasses emerged.

“Hello, Mrs. Jackson,” he said politely. “I’m sorry I left Foggy in such a state the other day. I didn’t mean to make anything difficult for either of you.”

“Well, neither Percy nor I are known for our good luck,” Sally said with a touch of humor, and then went to set a Tupperware of food down at each desk, earning the sounds of joy such a gesture deserved. “Did everything work out alright? I’ve never seen you so worked up.”

Foggy’s smile turned strained. Percy looked away quickly, shuffling over to sit in the corner closer to the other man’s desk. “Ah, well, I’m not sure I’ve ever been that worked up. We’re still working on it.” Sally made a soft, sympathetic sound, and Foggy cleared his throat, gaze locking onto Percy. Percy’s heart skipped a beat, to his own ire. “That wasn’t exactly the first impression I was hoping to make, let me tell you- you’re, what, a year and a half off that horrible, uh, kidnapping? Thing? Incident?”

Ridiculously, it took Percy a moment to remember what Foggy was talking about. Eventually he recalled the final story that the Mist had drawn up for his first disastrous quest. Unusual, for someone to remember that. “Yeah,” he said.

“I know that whole thing made Sally nervous, I’m sure it did you too,” Foggy said, and he was still looking at Percy. Percy fidgeted with Riptide. “So, uh, let me assure you that I hold no ill will, and even if I did I’m pretty sure I’m strong enough to pick up, like, maybe a really big puppy. On a good day, if I’m feeling tough.”

Percy didn’t smile. “Sure,” he muttered.

Foggy cleared his throat while Sally went to sit beside Percy, where they opened the last two Tupperware to eat their share of the meal. “What’s this anyway? Ah, it’s fried rice! Blue fried rice! My favorite! All fried rice should be blue.”

“I’m still not sure if you’re messing with me,” the sunglasses-wearing man said – only then did Percy notice the white-tipped cane leaning against the wall.

“He’s really not,” the blonde woman said. “It’s actually adorable.”

“Thank you,” Sally said cheerfully.

“The really impressive thing is that Matt likes it,” Foggy said. Percy was pretty sure he was just chattering nervously now, and he kept glancing at Percy, which made Percy tense despite himself, tapping Riptide faster against his palm. The stupidest of residual reflexes – he had real monsters to worry about. “Matt is picky as all get-out.”

“I can tell that Mrs. Jackson takes a lot of care with her food,” Matt said mildly.

“Please, call me Sally,” Sally said to Matt, and then, to Percy, “And that’s Karen, they hired her just a few weeks ago.”

Percy nodded silently, and pulled his legs up to plant his feet on the edge of the seat while he ate. Karen’s face had a sallow, faintly afraid glaze to it, and all three of them looked tired, with a heavy, awkward atmosphere filling the room. But they cheered up while they ate; it was hard to be upset when you were eating rice dyed bright blue.

“What did you do to it?” Karen asked Sally, holding a forkful up for inspection. Sally smiled.

“I boiled red cabbage in the water before I did the rice,” she said. “I have a lot of practice experimenting with ways to turn food blue.”

“Which she did to piss off her ex-husband,” Foggy added, unexpected pride and delight in his voice. “Isn’t it great?”

Sally’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Even I enjoy a little pettiness now and again.”

Percy got distracted after that, looking around the office with some curiosity. There were a couple of printers, big and bulky, and a whole lot of file cabinets, a shelf of books, the three desks and a door to something like an interrogation room- but it was Matt’s desk that was really interesting. It was all covered in plain-looking papers, but looking closer, Percy could see a bunch of bumps on them.

“Those are braille, right?” he asked, before he could think better of it, accidentally cutting across something Foggy was saying. Matt shifted back a little, angling more toward him, raising his eyebrows.

“The papers on my desk?” Matt asked, not seeming bothered by Percy’s nosiness.

Percy nodded, then remembered himself. “Yeah.”

“They’re braille, yes,” Matt said. “Why do you ask?”

Percy shrugged. “Can you still learn braille if you can see?”

Matt tilted his head. Foggy had fallen silent, watching them talk and making Percy uncomfortably self-conscious. “I don’t see why not, but learning it isn’t easy and the books are pretty expensive, so there’s not a lot of reason to. Why?”

“I’m dyslexic,” Percy explained, rocked in place a little, and then continued, “Like, really dyslexic, I can’t even read a road sign most days. But I figure, the letters can’t crawl around the page if I’m not looking at anything to read them, right?”

Matt chuckled. “Unfortunately, that's not how it works. Do you have trouble focusing on audiobooks?”

Percy nodded, shifting a little to orient himself toward Matt without thinking. “Yeah, but it’s easier than reading. Audiobooks are kind of a pain to get though, so I don’t usually bother.” Other things to worry about, and all.

“The school should be helping you, if it’s interfering with your progress,” Matt told him. Percy snorted. As if any school counselor gave him a second glance after seeing his record.

“They don’t care,” he said. “They all know I’ll get myself expelled by the end of the year anyway, and I’m dumb too, so helping me is a waste of time.”

“That’s illegal,” Matt said, frowning. “If you have a diagnosed disability, they have to help you. If you’d like, Foggy or I can help you talk to them. And if you really have that much trouble, you should really get an IEP or a 504.”

The offer made Percy’s stomach twist strangely. “I don’t know what those are.”

“Types of disability accommodation plans,” Matt said, and offered Percy a fleeting, rueful smile. “I’m pretty familiar with them myself. But the general idea is to keep disabilities, including learning disabilities like dyslexia, from ruining your chance at an education.”

Percy looked up at his mom, who usually knew this sort of stuff before he did, but she looked faintly lost too. Foggy noticed almost immediately.

“Oh, shit,” Foggy said. “You were working two jobs for most of Percy’s childhood, weren’t you? And I went to college with Matt, he had to jump through a whole damn obstacle course to get his accommodations sometimes.”

Percy bristled. “Mom was perfect,” he snapped. “It wasn’t her fault she had to spend all her time just looking for schools that would take me.”

Foggy raised his hands in clear surrender, looking alarmed. “Whoa, whoa, that’s not what I’m saying- or, uh, I mean, that is what I’m saying, not-”

“It’s fine, Percy,” Sally interrupted, smiling ruefully at Percy. “It’s true. I probably would’ve been able to advocate for you with the school counselors if I’d had more time. Luck just wasn’t on our side.”

“Is it ever?” Percy muttered, but the fight went out of him, and he relaxed.

“Where are you going now?” Matt asked.

“...Centerside,” Percy said after a moment. “Couple blocks outside Hell’s Kitchen, in one of the neighborhoods that didn’t take damage in 2012.”

“Alright,” Matt said. “Sally, if you give Foggy and I a week or two to catch up on the educational parts of the ADA, we could help you put something together.”

Sally’s breath caught, and Percy knew instantly that his school performance had still been bothering her. She looked too hopeful about the idea of him doing better to mind as little as she said she did. “Would you? That would be great, please, I’ve never been able to get through very much of it at all.”

“Yeah, that’s lawyer talk for you,” Foggy said. “Don’t worry, Sally, we’re experts at that.”

“Literally,” Karen murmured with half a smile.

Sally looked at Percy, and despite his own reservations, Percy felt himself give way immediately under her hopeful look. It was the least he could do for her, he figured.

“Alright,” he said. “I guess we can try.”

Chapter Text

By the end of the next day, academic improvement was the least of Percy’s concerns.

“I don’t want to move,” he repeated desperately, itching to hit something despite himself. He wished there was a monster nearby, something big and stupid to bait into giving him a fight.  “They’re stupid, they suck, I’m gonna- I’ll block the door with an armchair until they eff off. Screw them.”

Sally surrendered a slightly wet laugh, rubbing at her face, and Percy’s heart wrenched at the look on her face. “Well, that’s one way of handling it,” she said without looking at him.

Percy bit his lip. “Can we do anything?” he asked, voice wavering a little.

How come it was always the stupid mortal stuff that made him feel helpless?

Sally took a deep breath. “I know he made a bad impression on you. But I’m going to call Foggy, alright? He’s a lawyer, he might be able to help.”

Percy crossed his arms, scowled, and nodded at the ground. Sally made the call from the other room, and Percy flopped down and played on his old DS, trying to pretend that nothing was going on. There were no veiled threats, no fatal flaws, and no evil cruise ships. Sally spoke on the phone, and phrases drifted into the living room, coercion and violation of property laws and legal rights.

It was getting dark by the time Sally returned, and Percy pushed himself upright, watching her anxiously. She smiled at him, not quite hiding the worry in her eyes, and said, “We’re having a bit of an impromptu meeting in the law office. I hope you don’t mind. I’ll help you pack an overnight bag.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Percy said, the worry slipping out before he could stop it. He turned off his game before she could reply, rolling off the couch to do as he was told.

Both of them were quiet as they got ready to go. Percy tried to remember a time when they’d been on the verge of losing their home before. He couldn’t. Stinking trash heap that he was, Smelly Gabe’s income had at least been enough to make rent payable, and they’d never moved either. It had always been the only stability in between boarding schools.

Sally drove them to the law office through the rain, and Percy drew pictures on the fogged-up window, rubbing condensation away with his thumb.

“Come on, Percy,” Sally murmured, grabbing her bag to get out of the car. Percy slung his backpack over his shoulder and followed, and the second trip down to the law office was somehow worse than the first.

He ended up sitting in the same corner as the day before, resentment and frustration churning in his belly as he listened to the others talk. Foggy said that it wasn’t safe to stay, mentioned a ‘Mrs. Cardenas’ with grief in his voice, talked about other places they could go to wait it out. Among the rest of the terms, Percy picked up a nugget of actual information.

It was Wilson Fisk’s fault that he and his mom were being forced out of their apartment.

“What can we do?” Sally asked, with steely calm.

“Safest thing is to take the carrot and run,” Foggy said, apologetic. He was holding Sally’s hand, like he was trying to reassure her.

“But we’re already in the process of taking down Fisk,” Matt inserted firmly. “If you can just wait that out, you’ll be able to go home.”

“Would that be weeks or months?” Sally asked.

“Weeks,” Foggy said, at the same time that Matt said,

“Days.”

Foggy shot Matt a look. “I’m making a face at you, Murdock. That’s- ridiculously optimistic, even for you. There’s no way. Not even with your extracurriculars”

“Foggy?” Sally pressed.

Foggy sighed. “We’ve got some stuff on him,” he conceded after a moment. “And Matt’s been... digging.”

The more he heard, the more Percy wanted to throw something and scream. It was so stupid. Nico was running around the countryside all by himself, and Kronos was crawling out of Tartarus, and they were two years away from when Percy would hold the fate of the world in his hands... and they were worrying about some rich guy that wanted to build condos.

Percy didn’t want to wait weeks or months to go home.

He snapped his game shut. Sally immediately looked over at him, concerned.

“Going to the bathroom,” he muttered, standing up.

Sally didn’t look convinced, but all she said was, “Be careful and hurry back.”

Percy nodded, and then went out the door. Instead of heading toward the bathroom, though, he turned through the halls until he found his way out of the building, spinning Riptide in his fingers.

It was still raining outside. The water settled on his skin, cool and calming, and sent strength and confidence through him in tendrils. A few feet around him in every direction, scattered droplets and puddles writhed, coming together and breaking apart like a fist clenching in anger.

He picked a direction, walked until he found a sufficiently seedy-looking character, and stopped a few feet away. The man was almost a foot taller than Percy, but he didn’t feel anything but icy anger beating through his veins.

“Hey,” Percy heard himself say. “Where can I find Wilson Fisk?”

The man’s expression started off disdainful, but it changed when he looked up at Percy. It was hard to say exactly what he was seeing, but he took an alarmed step back, eyes locked on Percy’s hands.

“That’s a dangerous question to ask, kid,” the man said, quiet and rough. “A knife ain’t gonna save you from the types he’s got on payroll.”

Huh. Percy glanced down at Riptide, still in pen form, and then back up at the man. His heart was pounding in his chest, adrenaline making him reckless and impulsive. “Whatever. Can you tell me where or not?”

The man raised his hands in surrender. “I don’t know nothing. Swear it.”

A frustrated sound pulled itself out of Percy’s chest, and he walked past the man without another glance, moving on down the street. A few blocks later, he found another guy to ask. Then another. His rage built into a high-pitched whine in his head, urging him to walk faster, push harder. One of these guys had to know where Wilson Fisk was.

A few were able to point him in the direction of people that worked for Fisk, which was close enough, and then Percy was able to catch an actual trail. It led him off the street and into a couple of warehouses, and that was when his blind luck ran out.

Or maybe it kicked in. This was more or less what Percy wanted, after all.

“You’ve drawn a lot of attention to yourself very quickly, Mr. Jackson.”

A door slammed, and Percy tensed and turned around. There was only one person in the room with him, a businessman type, looking at him with a deceptively mild expression.

“Yeah, I’m good at that,” Percy said after a moment. He tugged experimentally at his surroundings, and felt the water in the pipes respond. “You work for this Fisk guy, right? I want to talk to him.”

Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump. It probably wasn’t healthy for his heart to beat this hard.

“I’d gathered,” the man said, taking a few steps toward him. He looked perfectly composed, even apathetic; he looked like a fucking asshole. “Do you suppose a knife will be enough to intimidate him into giving into your demands?”

“I was thinking a sword,” Percy said, following the man’s movements. It felt oddly like facing a monster, albeit one of the more human-shaped ones. Like Crusty, maybe.

“Very funny, Mr. Jackson. I’ll give you credit for your nerve.” The man stopped closer to Percy, and lifted one side of his jacket, just enough to reveal the gun inside. Percy’s heart skipped a beat. “But I’m afraid this isn’t a playground fight. Mr. Fisk will be building the world he wants, whether you agree to it or not.”

Hatred curled in Percy’s chest, edged with the sort of frustrated hysteria that had driven him so far. “Why doesn’t he come face me himself, then?”

“He does have better things to do than handle teenage miscreants,” the man said. “I’ll be blunt. You are a child. You have no power to affect this one way or another. Your options, then, are to either stop making trouble for yourself and others, or else see certain unwanted aspects of your own history return to police attention.”

Percy translated that as: shut up or get used to orange jumpsuits.

“Guess a guy like you is used to people showing their bellies when they see that gun under your suit,” Percy said. “Or did you mean to show me your wallet instead?”

The man smiled mirthlessly, eyes blank and cold, but whatever he was going to say next was lost: something smashed, and the lights went out. Percy immediately fell back, making space between himself and the stranger, and a shadow seemed to fall from the ceiling. There was a loud and violent scuffle, and one gunshot, followed by the sound of a gun skidding across the ground.

Percy hid around the corner, but within a few more minutes, the sounds slowed to a halt. He could hear someone breathing heavily.

“That was a reckless thing you did, kid,” someone said at last, a man with a voice Percy recognized but couldn’t place. He peeked around, seeing a shadow of a figure wearing a mask. “You could get yourself killed throwing that name around.”

Percy swallowed, breathing hard, and then said, “It takes more than some business jerk with a legal team to scare me.”

“Heh.” He thought he saw the shadow of a smile, but maybe it was Percy’s imagination. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. You alright?”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “Don’t worry. I can hold my own in a fight.”

“I believe it. You seem unusually seasoned for your age. Battle training?”

“Uh-huh. Best in my summer camp with- um, with my weapon.”

The masked man snorted. “You got your battle training at a summer camp?”

Percy smiled. “It’s a weird camp.” Unable to resist, he tacked on, “Ancient Greece themed.”

“You were serious about the sword?”

“Brutally.” Percy meant it, too.

The man barked a laugh, short and incredulous, and shook his head. “Go home. Your mom is worried about you.”

Percy hesitated, watching the silhouette, and then nodded stiffly. His eyes dropped to the limp form on the ground, bleeding from a head wound. He wondered who the hell the guy was supposed to be.

But. One way or another, he’d lost today’s chance.

“Thanks,” he muttered, and then darted out the door and down the street.

He wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been gone, but he found his way back to the law office and slipped inside. He couldn’t miss the way his mother relaxed instantly, sighing. Foggy, oddly, looked a little relieved as well- but tense too, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Is everything alright, Percy?” Sally asked. Percy huffed and dropped into his chair, crossing his legs with a scowl.

“Peachy,” he muttered. Except for the fact that their apartment still wasn’t safe, and nothing was okay.

Sally’s eyes darted over him with concern, and he realized with a wince that yeah, obviously she’d thought that he’d gone for a monster. Gods knew that happened often enough too. He kicked the ground.

He looked up when the door opened, and frowned when he realized it was Matt, looking as mild as ever. There was a red mark on one of his cheeks that hadn’t been there earlier. Foggy sighed in relief.

“Did you find what you needed, Matt?” Sally asked. Matt gave her a small smile as he crossed over to sit carefully down in his own seat.

“Just about,” he agreed. Percy frowned harder. There was something bugging him about Matt’s voice. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep a record of the coercion that they’ve already applied-”

Since their apartment wasn’t safe, Sally and Percy spent the night at Foggy’s – a vaguely clean place with reasonably good lighting, a window with a stellar view of a dumpster, and the sound of construction constantly shaking the room. It didn’t smell like old sweat or rotten food, which Percy guessed was good enough for a night, no matter how much he resented it.

He perched on the arm of the couch, where he could keep an eye on the door, and ate his pizza mechanically. His attention was elsewhere, mostly caught up in his mangled attempt to track Wilson Fisk down, but a sudden sound make him focus on his surroundings again.

He wasn’t able to figure out exactly what the sound had been, but it drew his attention to Foggy and Sally anyway.

“He has a lot on his mind, that’s all,” Sally said softly. It wasn’t difficult to figure out who she was talking about. Her eyes were weary, her fingers tracing aimlessly across Foggy’s thigh while she leaned against his shoulder. His fingers carded through her graying hair. “I don’t want him to have to worry about things at home too. It’s too much to explain right now, but... trust me. He needs the safe space.”

“Hey.” Foggy tapped her temple gently, giving her a small, crooked smile. “It’s okay, I get it. Some people have a little more trouble feeling safe than others. Trust me, I’ve known Matt for years, I know all about it.” Sally laughed quietly. “My apartment’s more bachelor pad than the cozy little place you and your son made, but it’s good enough for me.”

Oh. Sally must be explaining to Foggy that he wasn’t allowed to come to their apartment for a while. Despite himself, Percy relaxed a little, relieved the rule was still in place.

“And you’re welcome anytime,” Foggy added seriously. “Not just when there’s an emergency. Alright?”

Sally kissed him on the cheek in lieu of a response, and Percy licked the grease off his fingers and dropped his gaze from the other two, softening despite himself. Sally didn’t have a lot of people to share her worries with. Percy thought that most of the time she kept them locked up until she forgot they were there, stifling her breath.

A few minutes after that, Sally made eye contact with Percy and waited for his nod before excusing herself to take a shower, leaving him and Foggy on opposite ends of the couch. Percy slumped down and spun Riptide between his fingers, determinedly not looking at Foggy.

Foggy cleared his throat.

“So,” he said awkwardly. “How are you dealing with... things?”

After a moment of contemplation, Percy twisted in place to meet Foggy’s eyes. He considered the man for a moment, and then asked, “What were you and Matt fighting about?”

Foggy flinched, but Percy didn’t look away, too jittery and frustrated to feel bad about jabbing the obvious sore spot. Emotions flashed across Foggy’s face – frustration, regret, resentment – before they evened out again, becoming almost unreadable.

“I found out Matt’s been keeping a pretty big secret from me,” Foggy said at last, surprising Percy – he’d expected to be told to butt out. “I mean, a big one, like, it’s gonna get him hurt, and he’s gonna take me and Karen down with him, and he didn’t say anything.”

Percy clenched his jaw and glared as Foggy’s voice rose slightly, though he was surprised to see the man take a deep breath, forcing his voice to drop back to a softer level.

“Matt and I have been friends for a long time, and I tell him everything,” Foggy said quietly. “Kind of sucked to find out he didn’t feel the same.”

Percy rolled that over in his head and scowled down at Foggy, uncharitably annoyed.

“You’ve never had a real secret in your life, have you?” Percy asked bluntly. Foggy wrinkled his nose.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“A real secret,” Percy repeated, fiddling with Riptide. “I mean- the kind that happens to you. It’s not about what you want anymore, with those. You keep your mouth shut, or sooner or later someone’s gonna shut it for you.”

Foggy was staring at him, and instead of annoyance, there was something like concern on his face. “What kind of secret happens to you?”

“I dunno,” Percy muttered uncomfortably. “You see something you shouldn’t have. Something happens but you can’t prove it, or you’ll get punished if you tell someone. You find out something by accident, but someone else will get hurt if you tell.”

He shrugged. Percy knew all about secrets that could get people hurt.

Foggy was still looking at him with an odd amount of worry. “You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

“Duh,” Percy said.

Foggy kept staring, but Percy kept his mouth shut and spun Riptide faster. It was none of Foggy’s damn business anyway. After a while, Foggy sat back in a way that signaled the end of the conversation, and Percy held back a sigh of relief.

“Alright,” Foggy said. “I’ll think about cutting Murdock some slack.”

“I don’t care,” Percy muttered. “As long as you don’t yell at Mom anymore.”

Foggy grinned at him, like after that last conversation he thought they had some kind of understanding. “You care about your mom a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, in the same ‘duh’ tone he’d used before. “Only a moron wouldn’t.”

“Sweetest woman I’ve ever met, is Sally,” Foggy agreed, with a slightly goofy smile. “Reminds me of my mom, actually – I bet she adopts all your friends, right? Especially if any of them don’t have good homes of their own.”

Percy faltered, nearly dropping Riptide on the next spin, and after a moment he nodded. Annabeth, Tyson, Thalia, Grover – Sally never hesitated to welcome any of them into their home. Even before that, when their time alone was restricted to trips to the park or the mall, Percy’s friends had always been welcome.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Foggy asked randomly. Percy frowned at him, and Foggy leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “I’ve always wanted to be that person too.”

Startled, Percy let out a snort, and was surprised to realize he was actually smiling now. “What, that adopts everyone?”

“Yep,” Foggy said. “Nelson caretaking instinct. No getting rid of it. I always say, no holiday is complete without at least three sad orphans coming in from the cold. Matt’s been a part of my family’s Christmas list basically since we met.” He paused. “Come to think of it, I need to invite Karen too. She hasn’t mentioned any plans, at least.”

As Percy watched, Foggy grabbed his phone from his pocket, swiped through, and started texting. After only a minute, he hit send, frowned, and then repeated the process with a different contact.

“Need to remind Matt he’s invited too,” Foggy muttered. “Sad sucker manages to think he’s uninvited every year even though it’s never happened.” He set his phone down and looked up at Percy, seemingly guileless. “Hey, since we’re on the topic-”

“You brought it up,” Percy said.

“-I wanted to ask,” Foggy continued relentlessly. “Would you and Sally want to come? She and I haven’t talked about it yet, and I figure her answer is gonna be conditional on yours anyway.”

Percy stayed quiet for a bit, watching Riptide spin.

Christmas had always been kind of... difficult. Most years, Sally had woken him up really early in the morning so they could enjoy it together before Gabe ruined it. And even then, he’d still found ways – making Percy return his gifts one year, outright breaking Sally’s another, demanding all of Sally’s attention for the whole day. Percy had gotten hit more than once for taking up Sally’s time when Gabe wanted it.

And then there had been last year, when it was just the two of them in their new apartment. They’d opened presents in the morning, left them sitting out around the tree, and watched movies through most of the day. It was one of the best days that Percy could remember.

Somehow, though, he didn’t think it would be quite the same the second time around, when the rush of freedom wasn’t so fresh. Neither Percy nor Sally usually thrived in the quiet.

“Mom and I have secrets too,” Percy said at last, instead of answering. “The kind that get people hurt. You gonna pitch a fit about it?”

Foggy looked like he’d been smacked, and the expression soon melted into consternation. “I don’t suppose you’re telling.”

“It’s none of your business,” Percy said flatly. “Get used to it.”

Foggy rubbed his forehead, and Percy was bracing himself by the time Foggy finally said, “Fine. I don’t like it, but fine. Is it going to hurt my family?” Percy shook his head. Monsters didn’t go after mortals. “Then you’re still invited. Jesus. Matt’s always trying to find reasons I don’t want him home for the holidays too.”

Percy surprised himself by flashing a smile. “Things are just complicated for some people.”

“Yeah, and some people insist on making them more complicated than they have to be,” Foggy muttered.

“That what I think it is?” Natasha asked, narrowing her eyes at the footage looping on the television. Steve nodded, a small frown slashing across his face.

A boy, about fifteen, stalking down a street with all the conviction of a young god. Water rippled out in violent waves from every step he took, and rain swirled like a cyclone around him. Without any apparent effort, the storm was bowing to him.

“That’s a son of Poseidon if I ever saw one,” he said. “And a strong one too, if he’s presenting to that extent at his age. Makes sense, if he’s the first one in a century.”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Sam frowned, leaning forward for a closer look. “What do you mean, a son of Poseidon? We’ve got Greek gods running around with the Norse? And is Thor going to be making little babies that throw off lightning?”

“Yes and no,” Tony answered for them, snapping his tablet shut. “You’ve got the right idea, but you need to amp it up by like, a factor of ten. Thor’s a great guy and all, love that guy, but he’s got about the strength of a Greek demigod. This kid? From the look of things, definitely closer to Thor’s level than Thor’s kids.”

Sam turned his attention on Tony, studying him for a moment with a furrowed brow, and then looked at Steve, quirking up an eyebrow expectantly. Steve gave him a slightly sheepish smile back.

“Greek gods have been around a lot longer than Norse ones,” Steve explained, “so they’re a little more... ethereal, I guess. Definitely a lot stronger. Closer to what you’d actually imagine a god to be like.” He nodded at the screen. “They’ve got a lot of kids running around – children of Ares, Demeter, Aphrodite. But a son of Poseidon – that’s worrying. Stark, any word?”

“I haven’t been back to camp in a while,” Tony admitted. “He must have popped up in the last couple of years.”

“Clint hasn’t either,” Natasha said. “Not since Luke Castellan’s quest went south.”

Sam snapped his fingers twice, catching their attention again. “Why is it worrying for there to be a son of Poseidon?” he asked patiently.

“Well, for one thing, Big Three kids are hideously powerful,” Tony said, and at Sam’s look, amended, “Children of Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades. A moderately powerful son of Poseidon can redirect rivers and form lakes, and this kid looks a bit stronger than average. And then there’s...” He grimaced.

“What?” Sam prompted, a little less patiently.

“There’s a prophecy,” Steve picked up, frowning at the image on the screen, now frozen. An adolescent boy, face set in a vicious scowl, with the water contorted around him like a twister. “I never heard the entire thing, but the next demigod child of a Big Three god is supposed to herald a conflict. A big one. Maybe the big one, as far as the Greeks are concerned.”

“And... you believe this?” Sam asked dubiously.

“Greek prophecies are never wrong,” Tony said, glancing over at him. “I know it sounds wishy-washy, especially if you’re new to the Greek world, but trust me. They might not be helpful, but they’re never wrong.”

“Uh huh,” Sam said, in a voice that clearly projected his lingering doubt. But there was no uncertainty as he continued, “And what are we gonna do about this kid?”

“I can make a house call,” Natasha said. “Stark, can you find us a name?”

“Already done,” Tony said, flicking the windows from his tablet into the air in front of him. “Perseus Jackson, fourteen, mother Sally Jackson, no father on record. Diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia as soon as he entered the system, kicked out of every school he’s ever attended, plenty of tangles with the law under completely bizarre circumstances. Practically has ‘demigod’ stamped all over his file.”

“I feel like I might be a little out of the loop,” Sam complained.

“You are,” Natasha agreed. “Don’t worry. We’ll catch you up.”

Chapter Text

The third time Percy heard a low, slithering hiss pass the office door, he felt a tug on his shoe and looked down to find a small snake with its fangs buried in the leather, trying to pull it along. Annoyed, Percy knocked it away with his foot and stood up, giving in to the inevitable.

“Taking a walk,” he said, when Sally looked up at him with concern. He glanced down and gave the persistent snake another kick, and her gaze dropped to follow. Her lips pressed together, and she gave him a nod.

“Be careful, and be back soon,” she said, as perfectly even as though she’d seen nothing.

Following the hissing, Percy ended up in an alley behind the office building, lined with trash cans and garbage bags. There, the low rattle seemed to echo slightly, making its source difficult to pinpoint.

He leaned over, getting on tiptoe to check inside one of the dumpsters, and it struck. Percy barely dodged its strike, but the next moment, Riptide was uncapped and his eyes were on the snake.

Percy couldn’t identify the exact monster that was rattling its spines at him with a dozen of its tiny snake monster babies, but it looked familiar enough that he was sure Annabeth would have known it. As it was, though, he figured the rules of the fight were simple enough: don’t let it bite you, and cut its stupid head off.

Percy was lucky that his reflexes were good, because the snakes struck quick and hard, and his shield was still out of commission, so he was stuck fending them off with his sword. Mama Snake turned out to be able to breathe fire, too, and he ended up with a nasty burn halfway up his arm when he was forced to choose between fire and fangs.

Finally, Percy was able to punt its head like a baseball, stomp on its tail, and sever it in half. The head rolled away, mouth still gaping, and the baby snakes scattered as if dispelled.

Alone in the alley, Percy took a moment to catch his breath, still jittery and amped up after the focus the fight had demanded. Percy loved his mom, but gods above, there were too many damn monsters in the mortal world.

He was still contemplating whether a snake head was a trophy worth keeping when his instincts told him to dodge, and he did. Something flew past his face, and he turned. He didn't see anything, but the second dart plunged into his neck just above his collarbone, and it made him instantly woozy. He reached up and touched it, then pulled it out.

Something knocked him hard over the head, and his vision went dark.

Waking up from forced unconsciousness never got any easier. Percy was pulling a face even before he registered what was happening, with a low ache pulsing in his head and a tight band around his temples. The burn on his left arm throbbed with pain. He squirmed, but his hands were bound, though his feet weren’t.

He hadn’t even gotten to trying to open his eyes when a large hand cradled his head, tilting it up from where his cheek had dropped nearly to his shoulder.

“I heard that you wanted to speak to me, Mr. Jackson. Now is your chance.”

Percy furrowed his brow, and then forced his eyes open, blinking blearily to focus on the face in front of him. A bald man, tall and broad- Percy didn’t recognize him in the slightest. It was another minute before his words finally registered, and Percy’s senses sharpened, coming to attention.

“...Wilson Fisk?” he asked, voice coming out hoarse. The man smiled.

“The one and only.”

Percy clenched his jaw, and it took effort to shake himself the rest of the way out of his daze, at least enough to lash out.

“You’re trying to make Mom give up our apartment,” he said at last, with only a hint of his wrathful fire making it into his voice. Fisk nodded patiently.

“It’s such a classless place compared to what it could be,” Fisk said. “Now, wouldn’t you rather live in a much nicer complex than what that place is now? It barely has functioning electricity.”

“Fuck you,” Percy said with feeling, flexing his wrists to test his bonds. Only a little give. “It’s the first safe place we’ve had in years. I don’t care what it looks like.”

Something glinted in Fisk’s eyes, but it was gone in a moment. He smiled, and Percy only had a moment to stiffen before the blow came, a hard knock across his face that made him taste blood, head spinning like a top.

“Fortunately, I never expected a child to see the greater purpose of my work,” Fisk said, while Percy was catching his breath. “May I be truthful with you? The only reason that you are here is to bait the man in the mask. I owe both you and him some payback for what was done to my dear friend.”

Another blow, going the other way, meant that it took a minute for Percy to connect the dots between this man and the one who had come looking when Percy had asked around about Fisk. Percy growled halfheartedly.

“The one that looks like he came from a photocopier, or was that a different two-bit lackey?” Percy asked, and grunted in pain when he was struck again, his ears ringing and his neck sore from being jerked around. The rope rubbed against his burn, making his breath catch.

“Don’t you ever talk about Wesley like that!” Fisk snarled at him, as if Percy gave a shit what this asshole wanted. Percy snarled back on instinct, yanking at his bonds.

“Wesley? I thought we were talking about his evil twin, Mesley.” Percy yelped as the next strike connected, and kicked out blindly, though he couldn’t get the leverage to land a solid hit. “Guess you get them mixed up too, huh?”

Percy waited for the next hit, but it didn’t come. When he peeked up, Fisk was pressing his palm to his head, breathily heavily.

“Mustn’t lose my head,” Fisk muttered, and shook himself off like he was dusting his rage off his jacket. “There’s no reason to engage the child further, the trap is already set. Within the hour, the devil will be contained and another plot of land in my possession.”

Percy bared his teeth, but it was a largely empty gesture; something else had caught his attention.

There was a tub of water a few feet behind him, looking out of place in the current setting – looked like a lobby, now that Percy thought to wonder. Like an old abandoned motel’s.

“There’s our boy,” Fisk murmured, and Percy looked up. He caught a flash of shadow in one of the windows, and Fisk chuckled. “He’s wary of coming in – as he should be. Should I give him incentive, boy?”

“Do I actually get a vote?” Percy asked. “Because I vote no.”

“No,” Fisk said. “You don’t.”

Then he seized Percy by the collar of his shirt, giving Percy just enough time to realize he wasn’t actually tied to the chair, and shoved him headfirst into the tub, submerging him nearly to the shoulders.

Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be a problem for Percy. It wasn’t like he was gonna drown, and in fact, the water was already getting to work soothing the ache in his cheekbones, sealing the veins before they could bruise. He was still breathing heavily, a fact that Fisk was sure to notice at any moment. But despite all of that, there was still a high, terrified whine echoing through his head.

Fisk was pinning Percy down with all of his weight, and he was at least three times Percy’s small size. Percy could feel it bearing down on him, somehow heavier than the sky, and Percy’s fists clenched and unclenched in panic. Fisk’s arm fell across Percy’s shoulders like a steel bar.

Percy froze up, his whole body going rigid with panic.

“Get off me!”

Percy’s gut lurched. Something cracked, groaned, and snapped.

The next thing Percy knew, Fisk’s weight was gone, and the ceiling above them had sprung leaks all over, gushing water like blood from a wound. Percy squirmed upright, not even wet, but found himself still breathing hard, like a wounded animal. Water twisted and wove around him, swirling down from the ceiling like silly straws, if silly straws funneled water with the force of a firehose.

With another flex of will, Percy used the deepening water to force himself to his feet. Fisk was holding up one arm to protect his face, scowling and squinting through the spray, and Percy silently cursed the fact that his hands were still bound. He wasn’t used to fighting with just his powers, but it looked like he had no choice this time. And Fisk was mortal, too – it wasn’t like Riptide would work anyway.

“Hey!” Percy shouted, forcibly drawing Fisk’s attention back to him. “Big, tall, and thug-shaped! You scared of getting wet?”

Fisk looked more baffled than angry; Percy must be losing his touch. “What the-”

Percy stuck out his tongue. “You want your stupid condos, don’t you? Too bad your bait is getting away!”

That did it. Fisk lunged, charging to seize hold of Percy again, and it was easy to take the water under him and shove. Obviously, the water tripped him, but to anyone but Percy he looked like he slipped and fell like an idiot, hitting the ground with enough force to rattle the furniture.

“Argh!”

“Yeah, my bad, forgot to put out the ‘slippery when wet’ sign,” Percy called out. Fisk drew a gun, and Percy dove aside, skating across the water and into cover. “Whoa there! Haven’t you read the manual, man? You don’t shoot the bait! That kills people!”

Despite his flippant words, Percy’s heart had stuttered at the sight of the gun, and he was suddenly a lot less confident about his ability to take Fisk on with just his power over water. He heard Fisk grunting and huffing as he got to his feet, and chanced peeking out of cover long enough to make him slip again. His roar of anger made Percy wince.

Something shattered, and the lights went out. Percy let out a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping a little. The Devil had finally entered the building.

He waited for the clatter of the gun on the floor, which came within seconds, and then crawled back into view; he’d lost his footing when he’d skated into cover. With a thought, he pushed the gun to the farthest corner of the room, and then jerked his head. The calf-deep water rose up and yanked Fisk back down as he was trying to rise again, splashing into the froth for the third time.

“Godforsaken little metahuman brat!” Fisk swore, rolled over, and got yanked back down before he could do more than push his upper half out of the water.

“You know, this makes my job a lot easier,” the Devil said conversationally, and then planted his knee into Fisk’s back, grabbed his head, and slammed it against the floor – once, twice, three times before Fisk went limp. There were a few seconds of heavy silence, just the sound of more water pouring into the inches-deep flood, and then the Devil finally addressed Percy. “You’re some kind of trouble magnet, you know?”

“Believe me, I know,” Percy muttered. “You should turn him over before he drowns.”

The Devil did get off Fisk, then turn him over. He stared at Fisk for a moment, expression unreadable past his mask, and then he crossed over to kneel by Percy. Percy took a moment to figure out what he wanted, and then shifted to give him better access to Percy’s wrists. A minute of fiddling later, the ropes fell away, and Percy sighed in relief.

“Thanks,” he said, leaning down to submerge his hands. The rope burns, just shallow scrapes really, healed first, and then the power crept up into the forearm that had been burnt in the fight against the snake monster. He shut his eyes for a second, relaxing as the pain faded to a dull soreness. “Gods. What a mess.”

“You can say that again,” the Devil said dryly, sitting beside Percy. He tilted his head up. “You have powers over water?”

“Among other things, yeah,” Percy agreed. No real point denying it now. He looked up and let go of the water flowing from the pipes, and it slowed to a trickle, just gravity letting the damaged pipes leak. “Sure hope these people weren’t planning on coming back.”

The Devil laughed. “Smells like no one’s been here for at least six months. Should be fine.”

Percy managed a smile. “Sorry you had to save my ass again. I know you probably have better things to do, like your day job.”

“How do you know I have a day job?”

“I don’t think vigilantism pays the rent.”

“It really doesn’t,” the Devil sighed, and offered Percy a hand up, which he accepted. “You get yourself home, okay? I’ll take care of this.” Pause. “Actually- can you do me a favor?”

Percy tilted his head, frowning. “Uh, sure? I owe you one.”

“Can you run down to the police station and report that you were attacked by Wilson Fisk?” he asked. “Ask for Brett Mahoney. Most of the force in Hell’s Kitchen is being paid off, but Brett’s clean, he’ll look after you. It’ll be a good excuse to detain Fisk, and set a good foundation for the case against him too.”

“Sure, I can do that,” Percy said, surprised. “I dunno where we are though. Give me a minute to search the desk. You gonna guard him until they get here?”

“Yep,” the Devil confirmed, as Percy went to rummage through the abandoned motel desk. “If anyone asks, you can blame me for the pipes too. I mean, I figure you don’t want people knowing what you can do.”

Percy winced. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it sure would raise a whole lot of questions I don’t wanna answer,” he said ruefully. He found a stack of business cards and pulled one out. “Okay, got the address. Which way is the station?”

The Devil gave him directions to the police station, and Percy shook out his shoulders and started to head out the door. Another call from the vigilante made him look back.

“Hey,” the Devil said. “Does your mom know?”

“Yeah,” Percy said without hesitation. “I got it from my dad, and it was kind of a given I’d inherit his power. Mom knew what I was before I did.”

“And what are you?”

Despite himself, Percy smiled. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The police station sucked. It could have been worse, Percy supposed – Brett Mahoney was quick to come out when Percy asked for him, and he looked annoyed when Percy explained, but he also let Percy call his mom and stayed with him until she arrived.

“Oh, Percy, I’ve been so worried,” Sally burst out as soon as she saw him, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back, embarrassed but pleased.

“Sorry, Mom,” he said sheepishly, letting go after a few moments. She brushed his hair out of his face, giving him a worried look, and he continued, “It’s okay, I’m not hurt or anything. The mask guy showed up pretty fast, and you know I can take care of myself too.”

Sally must have rushed inside the station once they arrived, because over her shoulder, Percy could see Foggy just coming in, looking professional and a little harried. Percy flushed. Oh, he’d caused trouble again.

“What are you doing here?” Brett asked Foggy, visibly bemused.

“Mostly helping Sally and Percy navigate the legal system, I think,” Foggy said ruefully, and gave Sally a swift kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, this is Sally,” Brett said, in the universal tone of people who had heard quite a lot about their friends’ significant others. “I didn’t realize. Pleasure to meet you, ma’am, even if the circumstances could be better.”

Sally laughed lightly, pushing two chairs close together and tugging Percy down with her. “You as well, Mr. Mahoney. Now, what do you need from us?”

“Just a statement from your son,” Brett said, producing something from under the table. “Would you rather write it out or have it be recorded, Percy?”

“Well, I’m sure as heck not writing it,” Percy said, crossing his arms on the table and resigning himself to being stuck in this little room for a while. He bounced his leg. “Uh. I’ve never given a statement before.”

“I would hope not,” Brett said wryly, and then started to explain while Foggy settled nearby.

It wasn’t as bad as Percy had pictured a visit to the police station being, although that was probably because Percy was usually imagining himself on the other side of the equation. He explained sheepishly about asking around for Fisk, had to backtrack to the veiled threat that had driven them out of their apartment, and then skipped forward to the ‘walk’ that had taken him out of Foggy’s office.

“And then I got knocked out, didn’t really see who did it,” Percy said, squeezing his mom’s hand apologetically when it tightened around his. “Woke up a while later – uh, I’m guessing less than an hour – and Fisk and I were in some kinda motel lobby. He said I was bait for the man in the mask.”

Foggy inhaled sharply, but didn’t interrupt.

“Did he say why?” Brett asked, and then, to the tape recorder, “Mr. Jackson has provided a business card that he took from the lobby in question.”

“Nah,” Percy said. “I mean, not really. He kind of, uh... when I was asking people about Fisk before, I eventually ran into this guy. Looked like he’d walked out of an office and into a low-budget mafia flick. Fisk called him Wesley. The man in the mask showed up to save me from that guy too, and Fisk was pretty pissed about that, so I think that’s why.”

“Why did you say you didn’t know?” Brett asked, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “That seems like a reasonable assumption to me.”

Percy shrugged, self-conscious. “I mean, it doesn’t explain how the mask guy knew where I was or why Fisk was so sure he’d come to help me. I didn’t think it was that helpful.”

“It is,” Brett assured him. “I’ll put you with a sketch artist later, you can describe Wesley more thoroughly then. What happened next?”

“Um,” Percy said, drumming his feet restlessly on the floor. “The mask guy showed up but he didn’t really want to come in – didn’t know what he was walking into, I guess. So Fisk decided to try and drown me to encourage him or whatever.”

He winced when all three adults made noises of horror and disapproval. Sally’s hand squeezed his painfully tight, and Foggy had gone pale and sickly. Even Brett twitched, the muscles of his face tightening to keep his expression mild.

Percy looked over to give Sally a sheepish grin, trying to reassure her. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m really good at holding my breath, remember?”

Sally didn’t look comforted, but she leaned over to press a quick kiss to Percy’s temple anyway. “I know, sweetheart, but I don’t want anyone trying to hurt you.”

“I’m okay,” Percy repeated, and then, to Brett, “so that was when the mask man came in, got his gun away from him and stuff.” Percy glanced away, flushing guiltily even as he said, “The front desk was pretty close to where he’d tied me, so once the gun came out I hid behind that until it was over.”

“That was the right thing to do,” Brett said firmly. “And then?”

Percy shrugged. “Told me to come here and ask for Brett Mahoney. He should still be there, by the way – he knocked Fisk out, but I think he wanted to make sure he didn’t wake up and leave.”

“I am not Jim Gordon,” Brett grumbled, but he gave Percy a nod. “I’ll set you up with a sketch artist, but I should probably go collect the guy myself.” Pause, and a shadow passed behind his eyes. He glanced at Foggy. “Don’t leave them alone.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Foggy said lightly, as if he didn’t look just as uneasy.

Chapter Text

Once Brett left, it became clearer why Foggy had come. There was paperwork. There was so much paperwork, and the sketch artist, and things that they wanted Percy to read and before long he was jittering uncomfortably, ready to burst out of his skin if it got him out of this station faster.

Sally weathered it better than he did, but she looked harried and anxious, and Foggy guided her through most of the paperwork, explaining what each piece was for and what the legal jargon meant. Still, it was getting dark by the time they left, and Percy’s stomach was grumbling.

Foggy checked his phone on their way down the street. “Karen contacted Ben Urich to cover the story for us,” he said, sounding pleased with this news and not looking tired at all. “It’s after hours, but he’s interested enough that he’s willing to meet us at the office so he can beat the other reporters to it.”

“What?” Percy asked plaintively. Foggy winced.

“Oh, shit, you’re exhausted, aren’t you?”

“Ergh.” Percy reached up and rubbed his face, then replayed Foggy’s words in his mind. “You want me to talk to a reporter about what happened? Tonight?”

“We can do it tomorrow if you need,” Foggy said, eying Percy with an odd amount of concern. “But tonight is definitely better. If Ben gets the story out first, he’ll be able to set the tone for everyone else.”

Percy looked up at Sally. Sally smiled at him ruefully. “Up to you, sweetheart.”

“I can do it tonight,” Percy said decisively. “Can we grab food on the way, though?”

There was a new man in the office by the time they got there, a Black man who was quietly chatting with Karen, brow wrinkled with far more than a day’s worth of stress. His eyes glimmered with recognition when they landed on Percy.

“Percy,” the man greeted, and then, unexpectedly, “Are you a fidgeter?”

“...Yeah?” Percy answered, confused. The man tossed him something, and Percy caught it on instinct, looking at it as he sat nearby. Some kind of chain-link toy.

“Ben Urich,” the man introduced, drawing Percy’s attention back to him. “Over the years I’ve found that some people open up better if they’ve got something to do with their hands. How old are you, Percy?”

“Fourteen,” Percy said, and instinctively started to twirl the chain-link toy, making the moving parts roll over and over.

“Your mother will need to be present for the interview then,” Ben said. “Is that alright?” Percy nodded, and Ben gave him the start of a weary smile. “You understand what we’re trying to do with this story?” Percy made a so-so motion. “That’s fine. Don’t worry about trying to spin it. That’s my job. Thank you,” he added, when Sally passed him his food.

It wasn’t as hard as Percy had expected it to be. Ben was an old reporter, and clearly had a bag of tricks to draw from; Percy could almost see him picking them out, going from tactic to tactic. Foggy and Matt had withdrawn to a side room to work, but Karen was watching avidly, like an understudy; Percy wondered if she’d rather be a reporter than a secretary. His hands worked the toy absently, keeping him from getting too frustrated with the stillness, like he had at the station.

They covered the basic facts first: the man that had come to demand that Sally move, Percy’s attempt to find Fisk and the help from the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and finally the grand finale, the kidnapping.

Then Ben started to ask about Percy’s background, brow pinched with focus as he thought writerly thoughts about how to form the article.

“Does it matter?” Percy asked warily, when Ben asked how he and Sally had made their apartment home. Ben gave him a small, understanding smile.

“It’ll help build a more vivid image of your situation,” Ben explained. “And in turn it will make Fisk seem more of a villain for having antagonized you.”

Percy guessed that made sense. He frowned down at the toy and tried to find a place to start, and after a while, Ben suggested,

“Why don’t you describe your apartment to me?”

So Percy did, and found that that was easier. He told Ben that there were dirty clothes and forgotten papers everywhere, but never any old food or trash bags. No one was allowed in Percy’s room unless he let them in, and there was a scented candle in the bathroom. The walls had been a boring off-white when they’d gotten it, and they’d painted most of them blue.

“Why blue?” Ben asked, and Percy smiled.

“It’s our color,” he said. “Mine and Mom’s.” Ben gestured for him to go on, and Percy got a little embarrassed. He glanced at Sally, and she made the same encouraging motion, expression soft. “One time Mom and Smelly Gabe had an argument- uh, Mom was explaining to me how you’re supposed to eat a rainbow of food, and Gabe interrupted to say food couldn’t be blue. So Mom went out of her way to get all the blue food she could find, to prove him wrong, and now it’s kinda all I think about with blue.” He hesitated, rubbing the toy between his fingers, and then clarified, “Uh, not Smelly Gabe so much. Just. Me and Mom, I guess.”

“I understand,” Ben said quietly, and Percy relaxed, giving him a sheepish smile. Then they moved on, leaving Percy with the lingering warm feeling of recounting the memory.

Foggy and Matt left them alone for the most part, working together to develop a strategy for their case against Fisk. They were both in and out, and both of them did a lot of writing, though it took Percy a bit to realize that was what Matt was doing. Sally stayed in the same place, making little gestures to reassure Percy every time he looked at her.

“You’d just come home?” Ben questioned, when Percy was going over what he and his mom had been doing before the threat came. “Where were you?”

“Uh, I was with Dad’s side of the family,” Percy said uncomfortably. He bounced his leg, trying to form an adequate response. “There was kind of an emergency, and they wanted me there for it, I guess.”

“How did it go?” Ben asked. Percy scowled at the ground.

“Bad,” he said. “It’s why I got so worked up so fast. I was already kind of upset.” He hesitated, and then tacked on, trying to be less unhelpful, “One of my cousins died, and a bunch of the adults were fighting about me.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben said quietly, and didn’t linger on the topic, thankfully.

“You’re good at this,” Percy said after a while, oddly flustered. He didn’t usually have a lot of cause to talk about himself, and it was weird that so much of it had come so easily. Ben chuckled.

“I’m a reporter,” he said. “Getting people comfortable enough to talk is a big part of my job. Though normally I specialize in less strictly personal topics than this.” He flashed Percy a smile. “It’ll certainly make my editor happy.”

“Is that all you needed?” Percy asked, kicking the ground restlessly.

“Just about,” Ben said, looking over his notes. “There is one thing I wanted to ask you, if you’re comfortable with it, but I can write the story just fine without it.” Percy cocked his head. “Can you tell me a little about your stepfather? One or two details. I’d like to be able to illustrate what you left behind.”

Percy’s expression pinched with discomfort, and he glanced at Sally.

Percy didn’t talk about Gabe, usually – out of the people at camp, only Annabeth and Grover knew about him at all, and even they didn’t know everything. It was embarrassing; Percy didn’t want people to know that being the son of a god hadn’t stopped him from giving in every time Gabe raised a hand to him. He still wanted to cry when he thought about some of the stupid shit he’d done to avoid getting hit.

“Whatever you want, sweetie,” Sally said quietly. Percy relaxed a little, looked back at Ben, and considered for a moment.

“Two things?” he asked. “Like, anything?”

“Anything you’re comfortable with,” Ben agreed.

“He was mad that he had to return Mom’s life insurance money,” Percy said flatly. “And he used to make me read my report card out loud to him and his poker buddies so they could laugh at me.” He scowled, crossing his arms over his stomach. “I have two learning disabilities. Even I know that was a shitty thing to do.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jackson,” Ben said, inclining his head slightly. “That’s enough. The story ought to be out in tomorrow’s morning paper.”

Percy nodded, hit suddenly with the realization that everything he’d just said would become public knowledge. He started when someone touched his hair, but it was just Sally, giving him a small, proud smile.

After that, things developed surprisingly smoothly. Ben’s paper was indeed the first to cover the breaking-news story of Fisk’s arrest, establishing him as a money-hungry monster hell-bent on sabotaging the recovery of an abused mother and child for the benefit of the rich. He followed it up a day later with the full exposé on Fisk’s crimes, which the primed public eagerly devoured with the appropriate amount of outrage. By the time they’d gotten back from Christmas with Foggy’s family – where Percy had spent most of his time entertaining the kids and then gotten a bag of fidget toys from Foggy – Fisk was arrested.

All six of them gathered in the law office to watch the coverage, sharing takeout between them while Fisk was taken away; something about the grim satisfaction on Ben’s face made Percy think that this might be his favorite part of the job. Someone had alerted the Avengers, and Hawkeye and Black Widow personally escorted Fisk to his jail cell.

Percy felt nothing but relief. They could go home again.

A few days after they moved back in, someone knocked on their apartment door.

“Oh!” Sally squeaked, when she opened the door. Percy twisted to look, frowning, blue licorice hanging from his mouth. “M-Ms. Romanov, is something the matter?”

“Not at all,” said the Black Widow, sounding faintly amused. “But I do need to speak to you and your son. If I might come in?”

“Of course,” Sally said, stepping aside. Natasha strode in as naturally as if she belonged there, the corner of her mouth quirking up as she met Percy’s eyes. Percy cocked his head warily, biting off the end of his candy to pull the rest away. “Please, sit down. Is this about Mr. Fisk?”

“To be honest, our interest in Wilson Fisk had more to do with your son than the other way around,” Natasha said, seating herself comfortably on the couch. “It’s not every day that we find a son of Poseidon.” Sally faltered on her way back to the couch, and Percy tensed. Natasha smiled disarmingly. “The Greek world has a bit of influence on our team. Clint is a son of Apollo, and Tony is a double legacy. Athena and Hephaestus.” She tapped her temple with one finger. “I’m clearsighted.”

“So there are adult demigods,” Percy blurted out, and then ducked his head, embarrassed. Natasha gave him a sympathetic smile.

“There are even old demigods sometimes,” she said. “Peggy Carter is a daughter of Zeus, from before the Big Three swore off children, and she’s still alive. She has to be protected these days, but when she dies, it’ll probably be the Alzheimer’s that does it.”

“Wow,” Percy whispered. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised – Chiron and Annabeth had mentioned that some demigods grew up, nearly always into household names – but he was. He hadn’t ever thought there might be Big Three kids all grown up.

Sally returned from the kitchen with a plate of cookies and a pitcher of blue Kool-Aid, her usual refuge when they got unexpected visitors.

“Thank you,” Natasha said politely, accepting a cookie and biting into it with an appreciative hum. “I’m sure I don’t need to explain why this caught our attention, Percy.”

“Yeah, no,” Percy muttered uncomfortably, stealing a cookie for himself. “The gods voted whether or not to kill me a couple weeks ago, I think I get the idea.”

Shit. He hadn’t meant to let Sally know that, and she’d gone dead pale.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “They said no.”

“I can see that,” Sally said, voice pitched high and breathless, and then pulled him closer to her so he could lean against her. He almost smiled. It was good to be home.

“I can promise you that that is not what the Avengers did when we found you,” Natasha said, with a touch of humor that made Percy relax. “But it does mean there’s a big fight coming, Percy. You know that, don’t you?”

Percy stared at his cookie for a long moment, throat tightening. But eventually he nodded. “Yeah. There’s been-” He cut himself off, and bit the cookie before it could crumble in his grip. Natasha patiently drank Kool-Aid until he finished it, and Percy gave in. “Luke’s been sailing around with a ship full of monsters. Most of the campers have been dreaming of a voice from Tartarus, and we’re starting to get runaways. We had to bring Bessie to Olympus on my last quest.”

“Bessie?” Natasha asked, for the first time audibly baffled. Percy blushed.

“The, uh. The ophia... Ophiotaurus. I didn’t know what he was when I found him, and I needed something to call him while I was untangling him from the fishnet, so I was just calling him Bessie. It seemed like a good name for a cow fish.” Sally laughed and ran her fingers through his hair, and Percy protested, “Mom!”

Natasha shook her head, looking amused. “At least it’s somewhere safe,” she said. “Everything else... it’s worrying, to say the least. Expect Clint to start dropping by camp more often.” Percy nodded, unable to bring himself to be excited about it. Natasha softened. “This day was always going to come, Percy. The oath that the Big Three swore just delayed the inevitable.”

Percy nodded unhappily. “If Thalia hadn’t become a huntress, it would have been her,” he said. “And if I die before I’m sixteen, it’ll be...” He cut himself off. Natasha didn’t seem to notice.

Nico was ten. Percy couldn’t do that to him.

“That’s Fate at work if I’ve ever seen it,” Natasha said, as if it didn’t bother her at all. “Do you feel prepared?”

“No,” Percy said before he could stop himself, staring down at his knees. “I mean... I’ve done a lot on my quests. I know I can handle a lot more than I thought I could.” He reached up and tugged on a lock of his hair, thinking of the gray one. “But this is- have you ever felt Kronos?”

“Fortunately not,” Natasha said quietly.

“It’s horrible,” Percy said, more raw than he’d meant. “You know it as soon as he’s even paying attention to you ‘cause you can feel it. It’s like being at the bottom of the ocean, except instead of millions of tons of water it’s just Kronos. Looking at you.” Natasha and Sally were both looking at him, and Percy ducked his head, barely resisting the urge to hide his face against Sally’s shoulder. “Uh. I’ve had a lot of demigod dreams about Kronos. They really suck.”

“I imagine he wants you,” Natasha commented. Percy scowled at the ground.

“Too bad,” he said shortly. “I’m not Luke. I don’t betray my friends.”

One of Sally’s hands opened Percy’s and rubbed the skin where the pit scorpion had left a welt. It was a tic that had started as Percy’s, until he’d told Sally what had happened. Percy settled a little.

“That’s very good, Percy,” Natasha said, even and light, and then, “If you’re both alright with it, we’d like you to come to the tower sometime this week. One of us will come to collect you. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”

“Why?” Percy asked, feeling Sally’s grip tighten anxiously around him.

“You’ve been at camp the last couple years, haven’t you?” Natasha said with a smile, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m afraid we’re all a bit behind on the goings-on in the Greek world, so it’ll be good to hear it from someone who was in the thick of it.”

Percy glanced at Sally, who still looked nervous, though she smiled when she saw him looking at her. “It’ll be good for you, I think.”

“Alright,” Percy conceded almost immediately, looking back at Natasha. “I mean... I guess. You’re sure you wouldn’t rather hear it from Chiron or Annabeth?”

“We’ll probably ask for a couple perspectives,” Natasha allowed. “But yes, we’d like to specifically ask you. Oh, and...” She pulled something out of her pocket and leaned over, giving Sally a business card and a small smile. “Keep in touch, won’t you? It’s not everyone that has what it takes to see the world for what it is.”

Sally looked startled, accepting the card on automatic, but she recovered quickly to smile at Natasha. “Thank you.”

Natasha gave her a nod, and then got up, apparently done with her business. On her way out, she paused to glance at Percy, and nodded at him as well.

“Stay strong and fight well,” she said, and then she left, closing the door behind her.

Chapter Text

“I have a 504 plan,” Percy announced cheerfully, almost before he was through the law office door. For once he didn’t even care why they were there, too excited to share the good news.

Karen and Foggy both sat up to attention, a grin breaking out across Foggy’s face.

“That’s great,” Karen said earnestly.

“This is why you always bring lawyers into it,” Foggy added, nose crinkling with amusement. “What’d you get? That’s not rude to ask, is it?”

It might have been, but Percy couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I get audio textbooks and a StarkPad for school, for notes and writing assignments and stuff,” Percy said, bumping his knuckles together happily. “Most of my exams are supposed to be oral now, and the teachers can’t mark me down on handwritten assignments for being sloppy or misspelled or whatever. It’s not gonna make me an A student or anything, but it’s not gonna suck so much either.”

Sally was smiling broadly; her mood had rapidly improved at almost twice the rate Percy’s had, leaving both of them in an uncharacteristically good mood. Percy’s troubles with school had always weighed as heavily on her as they did him, and even before Percy’s first quest, it had been one of their biggest sources of shared stress.

“Thank you both so much for your help,” Sally said earnestly, crossing over to Foggy to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I can’t tell you what a relief it is.”

“Annabeth was pissed that I didn’t have one already,” Percy added, plopping down to drum his heels against the floor. “Her dad’s a college professor, I guess, so he already knew all this stuff.”

“Annabeth?” Foggy asked, pressing a kiss to Sally’s cheek in return before he sat back.

“Friend from camp,” Percy said, and then amended, “Uh, I go to a summer camp for kids with ADHD and dyslexia. It’s where I met most of my friends. And Annabeth is probably the smartest person I know.”

“That’s an oddly specific demographic,” Matt commented.

Percy smiled a little. “It’s more common than you’d think.”

“I think this calls for a celebration, don’t you?” Karen said, sitting up. She’d gained a little color since Fisk had been put away; she looked more relaxed. “Percy, what kind of food do you like? Pizza, Thai, diner...?”

Percy perked up. “Diner’s good,” he said hopefully, looking at Sally. Sally gave him an indulgent smile.

“I don’t see why not, if Matt and Foggy don’t mind...?”

“And cut off this constant flow of visitors?” Foggy asked dryly, already getting up. “Have you got a favorite place or you wanna try somewhere new?”

They ended up in a hole-in-the-wall not far from the law office, which both Matt and Foggy were clearly familiar with, though Karen was looking around with some curiosity. Foggy, Sally, and Percy were all on one side of the booth, and Foggy and Sally were clearly playing footsie; Matt and Karen shared the other.

“Annabeth’s usually a year-round camper,” Percy explained, spinning his fork in his fingers, “but she’s trying to go home sometimes now. She wants to patch things up with her dad; their relationship is kind of rough, but he loves her.”

“Year-round?” Matt interrupted, brow pinched. “Why would a summer camp have year-round campers?”

Percy hesitated, trying to remember if there was a cover for that. Matt clicked his tongue, as if suddenly understanding.

“Ah, is it one of those outdoor school programs?” he asked. Percy relaxed at the out.

“Yeah, it is,” Percy confirmed, relieved. “Annabeth’s been going there so long she even helps teach some of the classes.”

“It seems like a perfect choice for kids with ADHD and dyslexia too,” Karen pointed out with interest. “No wonder you love it. When you put it like that, I’m surprised you don’t go year-round.”

Percy smiled. “If I did that, I wouldn’t get to see Mom so much.”

He frowned when a sound made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He turned his head, looking for what had set him off, and soon settled on something outside: a hellhound, sniffing around the glass doors. Sally followed his gaze, and her lips pressed together.

“I’ll be right back,” Percy sighed, pushing himself out of the booth. Couldn’t the monsters leave him alone for just one good day?

He didn’t head for the hellhound; that was just asking to be ambushed. Instead, he took the back door to the alley and uncapped Riptide, spinning it idly as he waited for the hellhound to track him. He left the door cracked, and jumped a little when his mom’s voice carried outside.

“It’s alright,” she said, almost too soft for him to hear. “It won’t notice you as long as you ignore it. It’s looking for Percy.”

Startled, Percy glanced back inside. He couldn’t see them very well, but Sally was reaching across the table, squeezing Karen’s hand. The hellhound was sniffing around their feet.

Well. That was a problem for about ten minutes from now. The hellhound lifted its head, looking directly at Percy, and let out a bark. He took a step back from the door and braced himself.

The thing Percy hated about hellhounds was how blatantly hungry they were. Most monsters just seemed cruel and malicious, even when they were talking about eating him; hellhounds drooled and snuffled at him, and it made him think of the starved bulldogs people used to let out for fox hunts. Except he was the fox.

It was a brief but painful scuffle in the close quarters of the alley. The small space was bad news for him, but worse for the hellhound – it didn’t have the smarts to avoid his sword from so close. Still, it bowled him over and sank its teeth into him like a chew toy before he ran it through, and it burst into dust still biting down.

He hit the ground and groaned, more grouchy than hurt, though the hard bite was nothing to sneeze at; he was pretty sure the stupid thing had cracked a rib. And he’d forgotten to grab his bag of ambrosia before he left the apartment. And he was supposed to be with company, and was now bleeding freely into his shirt, hot fluid dripping down his side. Ugh.

Academic accommodations or no, apparently Percy was still a half-blood, and he still attracted trouble everywhere he fucking went.

At least his mom was with him. He dragged himself to his feet, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and trudged back inside. All of them were staring at him, and Matt had clearly started to rise to his feet before dropping back down. The light and conversational mood was gone.

“Mom, do you have food in your purse?” Percy asked, since the table was dead silent and no one else was going to break it. Sally immediately went digging through, coming up with a bag of ambrosia in seconds.

“You’re supposed to keep a bag in your pocket,” Sally scolded anxiously, reaching out as if to help him sit down. Percy tried to figure out how to apologize for existing without upsetting her.

“I forgot,” Percy mumbled. He sat down, broke off a square, and added, “I heard you talking to Karen. She saw the hellhound, right?”

He wished he could go just one day without making things harder on his mom.

“What hellhound?” Foggy asked, alarmed. Percy scowled at him. “What happened?”

“Are you bleeding?” Karen demanded, high-pitched, while Matt’s eyes oddly seemed to bore into Percy.

He grunted uncomfortably and ate the ambrosia in his hand, softening as he did. Tasted like the s’mores from camp. The pain in his side lessened, then disappeared, which didn’t solve the blood problem, but whatever.

“Can we wait until after lunch to do this?” Percy asked plaintively. “I’m hungry.”

“Of course we can,” Sally said, before anyone else could. Percy relaxed, settling down more firmly, and pushed the ambrosia back to his mom, who returned it to her purse.

Foggy visibly swallowed his questions, and asked instead, “Is Percy alright?”

“’M fine,” Percy muttered. “Chewed on, but fine.”

Riptide reappeared in his pocket. Apparently he’d forgotten it in the alley.

“He’s fine,” Sally repeated, soft and reassuring. “The... food from my purse helped.”

“The blondie?” Foggy asked, befuddled, and Sally laughed quietly and nodded.

They got their food a few minutes later, and Percy tried to focus on that. Karen looked distracted, barely touching her fries, and Matt was oddly tense. Foggy was fidgeting, and it was making Sally fidget too, filling the silence with questions about Matt and Foggy’s background in law, which they answered in awkward, stilted sentences.

“Our apartment or Foggy’s, Percy?” Sally asked softly, when they were almost done.

“Foggy’s,” Percy said firmly. Easier to get out than kick someone out, if things turned sour. He didn’t know what he was expecting to happen, but he’d never tried to explain this shit to anyone before, at least not anyone that wasn’t already involved.

They took Sally’s car there, through the thick New York traffic, and Karen was the first to break, blurting out her question as soon as the car doors shut.

“You saw the big dog, Sally?”

“The hellhound, yes,” Sally agreed, shooting Karen a concerned look. “Have you really gone all this time without a half-blood telling you what you’re seeing?”

“I thought I was crazy,” Karen snapped, high-pitched and borderline hysterical.

“It wasn’t that big a dog,” Foggy protested. “It was like, a German Shepherd.”

“I’m sorry, Foggy,” Sally said, giving Percy an apologetic glance. He shrugged and nodded, slouching against the car door. “What you saw was the Mist – the illusion that hides some of the world’s more... unusual goings-on.”

“Like aliens?” Foggy asked warily. “Because I saw those just fine.”

“No,” Sally said quietly. “Like hellhounds, or satyrs, or centaurs. Anything Greek.” She nodded at Karen. “You’re not crazy, Karen. You’re clearsighted – a mortal that can see through the Mist. So am I.”

“Oh my God,” whispered Karen, and buried her face in her hands.

“Wait,” Foggy interrupted, looking faintly panicked. Percy braced himself, scooting away uncomfortably. “Okay. Monsters. Why not. But why did you say it was looking for Percy?”

That- oh. Percy blinked at Foggy, startled.

“Percy?” Sally asked gently.

“It’s fine,” Percy muttered, and then, to Foggy, “I’m a half-blood, so I smell like tasty seafood to most monsters. That hellhound was probably wandering around hungry and caught my scent by chance.” He shrugged. “I didn’t think I should fight it in the middle of the diner. That usually gets you kicked out.”

There was also the prophecy and all. That was more than enough reason for anything from the Greek world to want to kill him.

“It tried to eat you?” Foggy squawked. “It was a German Shepherd!”

“I mean, not really,” Percy said, glancing out the window. “Hellhounds look more like Rottweilers, honestly.”

“Half-blood?” Matt asked, making Foggy jump as he spoke for the first time. “Half human, I assume. And the other half...?”

“God,” Percy said, and then, hastily, “I mean, little g, god. Like Thor. Not, you know, God god.”

“...Sally,” Karen whispered, drawing their attention back to the front passenger seat. “Those kids I kept seeing...”

“Demigods,” Sally agreed. “It’s alright, Karen. Most of them have training to deal with monsters. They were... probably okay.” She shot her a strained smile. “But a little help now and again certainly isn’t uncalled for.”

“Percy,” Matt said, voice a little strange, “do all demigods have ADHD and dyslexia?”

“Yeah, it’s almost a sure sign,” Percy agreed, sitting upright. “Do you know one? It’s really important that they’re brought to camp before the monsters get to them.”

Now more than ever. What if Kronos got to them first?

“Could they survive to adulthood without knowing?” Matt asked.

Percy shrugged. “I mean, I couldn’t have. I barely made it to sixth grade. But the kid of a minor god probably could. Their scent doesn’t carry as far as an Olympian’s does, and it’s even weaker if you don’t know what you are.”

“There are too many conversations happening in this car,” Foggy said loudly. They fell quiet, and he exhaled, clearly frustrated. Percy pulled his knees to his chest unhappily. “So. Karen and Sally saw a monster in the diner, and the monster tried to eat Percy. It tried to eat Percy because Percy is half-god and smells like food. Have I got it so far?” Sally and Percy both nodded silently. Foggy scrubbed his forehead for a moment, and then admitted, “I’m trying to figure out what the next step after that is. It’s crazy. But. Everything is crazy these days.” He paused. “Holy shit. Was your abusive ex a god?”

“Fuck no,” Percy snapped, but Sally laughed.

“No, Foggy- goodness, no. No, Gabe was...” Her smile faded. “Gabriel was the only man I could find that was so repulsive that his scent would hide Percy’s. Percy is a son of Poseidon; that makes him a particularly alluring target for most monsters.” Her voice wavered. “I couldn’t think of anything else that might work.”

“Poseidon,” Foggy echoed blankly, and looked at Percy. Percy frowned back. “That’s, he’s- what, the ocean?” Percy nodded. “Your father is Thor but for oceans?”

“Kinda,” Percy muttered. Gods, if only it was that simple. He pushed his forehead against his knees. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to feel so sorry for having ever been born.

“And you only survived because your evil stepdad was stinky?” Foggy almost squeaked.

“Don’t knock it,” Percy said defensively. “We were desperate. Chiron thought it was really clever.”

“Holy shit,” Foggy said again, and then, “Okay. And Karen?”

“Some mortals are born with the ability to see through the Mist,” Sally said. They were taking the last few turns to Foggy’s apartment, finally, and she was slowing down. “Or rather- most children can, and some retain the ability into adulthood. I think I was about fifteen when a half-blood finally explained what I was seeing. I’m sorry, Karen, that must have been terrifying.”

Karen laughed. It sounded wet. “A little bit.”

“But I promise,” Sally added, finally pulling over and into an apartment parking space. “Monsters don’t go after mortals. Sometimes they go after other monsters, but most of the time, they’re after half-bloods.”

“Deadliest thing on the menu,” Percy said into his knees. Sally cuffed him over the head so gently that it was more of a disapproving headpat, and he smiled despite himself.

“Okay,” Foggy said, breathless and high. “Inside.”

They went inside.

“Percy, show me where you got hurt,” Sally instructed, almost as soon as they were inside. She sat down next to him, already tugging at his shirt, and he squirmed.

“Mom! I’m fine. I had ambrosia as soon as I got back, remember?”

“Percy,” Sally said firmly, and Percy sighed and let her lift his shirt, just enough to see where he’d been hurt. “What happened?”

“It bit me,” Percy grouched, looking down. There were a few little scratches of marked skin where the wounds had been, but for the most part, the only evidence he’d been hurt was the drying blood on his stomach and hip. “The alley was too small to move around much, so I kinda had to pick between getting clawed or knocked over. But then it bit me while I was down.”

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Foggy blurted out, while Sally was still looking pinched and prodding gingerly at the healed scars. Percy looked up and blinked at him, stared at his concerned face in confusion, and then nodded.

“Yeah. Ambrosia heals half-bloods. That’s why I asked Mom for some when I got back.”

“And why you’re supposed to carry it with you, sweetheart,” Sally scolded, and then pressed a kiss to his forehead to take the heat out of it. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Okay, but how did you get rid of an apparently giant hellhound while it was biting you?” Foggy demanded. Percy uncapped Riptide. “Holy shit! I’m guessing that’s not really a baseball bat.”

“It’s a sword,” Percy said proudly. “Celestial bronze. It hurts monsters and demigods, but it doesn’t hurt mortals.” Karen reached forward to test the edge, gasping softly when it passed right through. “See?”

Foggy squinted. “Kinda?”

“Close enough,” Percy shrugged.

“Can I try?” Matt asked politely, and barely waited for Percy’s nod before nicking his thumb on the blade. And he did nick it, blood beading up from the point of contact.

Percy sat up sharply, eyes wide, and Matt shrugged, rubbing the blood between his fingers, not particularly surprised.

“I don't usually mention anything past the blindness, but...” He trailed off to let the implication sink in.

Percy swore in Greek.

“What does that mean?” Foggy demanded, loud enough that Percy couldn’t keep himself from flinching. To his surprise, Foggy immediately scooted back and softened his voice. “Matt was a demigod without knowing it?”

“H-he’d have to be,” Percy agreed, willing his heart to slow down again. “From a minor god, if he hasn’t encountered a monster by now.” He shot Matt an apologetic look. “Sorry. You’ll have to come by camp soon. Regular weapons don’t work on monsters, so you’ll need to get something from the Hephaestus cabin.”

“You’re sure he can’t be a son of Hades?” Foggy asked wryly, shooting Matt a look. Even knowing it was mostly a joke, Percy couldn’t help the twist of bitter resentment. Gods, if only – Matt was way older than sixteen. It would’ve been all over before Percy was born.

“He wouldn’t have lasted this long without being found, one way or another,” Percy said flatly. “Children of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades are the most powerful, so they attract the most monsters. Thalia made it to twelve, I made it to twelve, and Nico was ten.” At Foggy’s look, he clarified, “Thalia is a daughter of Zeus, and Nico probably is a son of Hades.”

Foggy opened his mouth, and Sally shook her head at him. He changed the subject. “The camp you go to, for kids with ADHD and dyslexia? Why does he need to go there?”

“It’s a camp for demigods,” Sally said quietly.

“His scent will be stronger now,” Percy added, “so monsters will probably start showing up. Plus I’m around, so monsters would show up anyway, and now they’re not going to ignore him.”

“Sorry, am I the only one worried about the fact that Matt is blind and can’t fight?” Karen asked loudly, pale with worry.

Sally raised a hand to her mouth, horrified, but Matt and Foggy just shared an uncomfortable, awkward look. Foggy stared holes into the side of Matt’s head. Matt fidgeted. Foggy stared harder. Matt gave in.

“It’s... fine, Karen,” Matt said, stilted and strained. Percy winced, tucking his face into his elbow. Percy really did fuck things up for everyone, didn’t he? “My senses were... unnaturally heightened, in the same accident that took my sight. I can’t see, but I can sense- warmth, movement, something that works a bit like sonar. It’s as good as sight for some things.”

“Like navigating underwater,” Percy blurted out, and jumped when everyone else looked at him. He shrugged uncomfortably. “In really deep water, where there’s no light, that’s what you use, you know? Heat, movement, sound.”

Matt gave him a relieved smile. “Yes, exactly like that.”

“Oh my god,” Foggy said, looking abruptly very pale. “That’s what you meant by ‘manner of speaking’?”

“...Yes?”

“I’m so sorry,” Foggy said earnestly. “That- I should have listened when you were explaining it, it was all so weird and it just didn’t add up and I was already upset and- I’m sorry.”

Some of the tension eased out of Matt’s shoulders, and he looked relieved. He gave Foggy a small, wry grin. “As long as you stop being mad at me about it.”

“Totally,” Foggy said. “Promise. Double promise.”

“Is this what you were fighting about?” Karen demanded, high-pitched.

“Mostly,” Matt said.

“I thought he was lying about being blind,” Foggy clarified, covering his face. “And I found out about his senses kind of by accident, and he kept talking about a ‘world on fire’ and ‘yes in a manner of speaking I can see’ and I did the ‘how many fingers’ trick and he could tell me and it just didn’t go very well.”

“I promise I really wasn’t,” Matt said, as insistent as if he still thought Foggy was mad at him. “I mean, I could probably pass as a sighted person in some situations, but I had to completely relearn how to live my life. It took years.”

“I’m so sorry,” Foggy repeated helplessly.

“Do you still need the cane and stuff?” Percy asked, and ducked his head when Matt looked toward him. “Um, sorry, I’m still thinking about the fighting thing. You’re gonna need a weapon, and you always have the cane with you, right? Beckendorf could probably make you one in celestial bronze.”

“...It would still need to act as a probing cane,” Matt said after a moment. “That is, ideally, it would feel about the same. I don’t need it, but it definitely makes life easier.”

“Beckendorf can do that,” Percy said confidently. “There’s nothing Beckendorf can’t make. He’s the best in the Hephaestus cabin.”

“You really think this is all it’ll take for monsters to start showing up?” Matt asked, with some skepticism. “I’ve never noticed them before.”

“Trust me,” Percy said, “you don’t want to be stuck facing a Canadian giant without a weapon.”

“A what?” Matt asked blankly.

“Laistrygonian, Percy,” Sally said, covering her face to hide her giggles, “They’re called Laistrygonians.”

Percy managed half a smile. “Okay, but I can’t say that.”

“There was an incident while Percy was in gym class last year,” Sally added, smile fading as she remembered it. “He’s right. You really don’t want to be caught without a weapon. What would have happened if Tyson hadn’t been there...” She shook her head.

“Monsters attacked you in gym class?” Foggy asked Percy, alarmed.

“Yeah,” Percy said. “We played deadly dodgeball.”

“Is he joking?” Foggy asked Sally.

“I wish,” Sally sighed. “Really, Foggy, I... couldn’t understate the number of monsters that come looking for Percy. Even when he was a toddler. I had to move him from daycare to daycare just to throw them off.”

“I don’t remember that,” Percy admitted guiltily. “I just remember the snake thing.”

“I think that was an ordinary snake,” Sally said. “Probably.”

“Okay,” Foggy said, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay. Anything else I need to know? Come on, I can take it.”

Sally and Percy looked at each other and winced.

“Oh, God, there is,” Foggy muttered.

“We may be here a while,” Sally admitted.

Chapter Text

Percy was pretty sure they hadn’t been back home for twenty-four hours when Falcon and the Black Widow showed up to pull him away again.

“That won’t be necessary, Sally, we won’t be staying long,” Natasha said politely, when Sally went to get cookies and Kool-Aid from the kitchen. “But thank you for the thought.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sam said, jabbing Natasha playfully in the side. “I want a cookie.”

So they ended up around the coffee table, passing at least a few minutes before Percy had to go. He stuck by his mom and fidgeted with Riptide, eying their guests warily. “Are you part of the Greek world too?” he asked Sam.

“Not at all,” he said dryly, halfway through his third cookie. “But it’s not any weirder than the superhero stuff.”

Percy smiled briefly. “You’re part of the superhero stuff.”

“God, I know,” Sam sighed. “Appreciated, Mrs. Jackson, this is great – so, what’s it like to be the son of a god these days?”

“Mostly it sucks,” Percy informed him, drumming his feet uncomfortably against the ground. “I can’t read, I keep getting kicked out of schools, sometimes my teachers try to eat me, and the world is ending.”

Sam stifled a snort and looked at Natasha. Natasha shrugged.

“That tracks,” she said.

“I can breathe underwater though,” Percy added. “That’s pretty cool.”

“I bet it is,” Sam chuckled. “I saw your trick with the storm last month too. Glad to be back home?”

Percy ducked his head and nodded at the ground, cheeks burning. “Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Hey, it didn’t hurt anybody,” Sam said gently. “It just looked badass.”

Percy shot Sam a shy smile, and looked over when Sally touched his arm, raising an eyebrow in fond question. “I was kind of... throwing the rain around when I went to look for Fisk. I wasn’t doing it on purpose! I was just mad.”

Sally laughed quietly, pressing a quick kiss to his hair. “Percy, if that was as angry as you ever got, I would be a very, very proud mother.”

Percy gave her a sheepish grin, and then looked up at the two Avengers. “Um, am I supposed to be telling you what’s been happening at camp? ‘Cause I still think Chiron would be better for that.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Natasha said lightly, getting to her feet and flicking her fingers in a beckoning motion. “You are the only one that’s been on three quests in the last two years, aren’t you?”

“I guess,” Percy mumbled, and pushed himself up. He glanced at his mom instinctively, and she looked at the Avengers.

“When do you expect to have him back here?” she asked, in the same firm no-nonsense tone she used on Percy’s friends. Sam and Natasha looked at each other.

“By seven?” Natasha suggested.

“By seven,” Sam agreed. Sally smiled at both of them.

“Thank you. Stay safe and be good, Percy.”

“Mom!” Percy complained, and still let her give him a kiss on the forehead before they were out the door. Neither adult commented on it, thank the gods; Percy thought he might’ve caught fire with embarrassment if they had. Maybe tracked down Nico just so the ground would swallow him.

“Did we just promise his mom we’d have Percy back before dinner?” Sam asked Natasha, when they were a few flights down the steps.

“Yes, I think so,” Natasha said, looking more amused than bothered. “Percy, are you ready to meet everyone?”

“I guess,” Percy mumbled, fidgeting in discomfort. Natasha wasn’t fooled.

“It’s a lot, I know,” she said, more soothing than Percy would have expected from the Black Widow. “Especially since you aren’t exactly being given much of a choice. But no one blames you for anything that’s coming.”

That unwound tension Percy didn’t know he was carrying. “No one?”

“I don’t even completely understand it yet,” Sam offered, and Percy managed a smile.

“Me either,” Percy admitted. “They haven’t even told me the full prophecy. Chiron insists it’s not time.”

“Harsh,” Sam said sympathetically.

They reached the bottom level, and Natasha grabbed the driver’s seat while Percy ducked into the back. To his surprise, Sam joined him.

“I heard about the Fisk fiasco,” Sam told him, tone so casual it had to be deliberate. Percy squirmed. “Did you and your mom manage to settle back in alright? It can be hard to get your sense of safety back once it’s been shaken.” Percy blinked at him in surprise, and Sam explained, “I work with war vets. I know a thing or two about feeling unsafe.”

“Oh,” Percy said. “Um. I think it bothered Mom more than me, she’s getting permission to change the lock on the door and she’s thinking about getting an alarm for it.” He shrugged. “I’m mostly just glad we’re not staying with Foggy anymore. He shouts when he’s confused.”

“That can be hard to deal with,” Sam said, more kindly than Percy might’ve expected. “Did you tell him that scares you?”

“He figured it out,” Percy mumbled, glancing out the window to avoid looking at Sam. “Sorry. I should be over that.”

“I never said that,” Sam said mildly. “It’s been, what, a year and a half? That’s nothing.”

Percy stared at the car next to them. “In another year and a half I’ll be sixteen.”

“Yeah?” Sam said, gently encouraging in a way that indicated he didn’t know the significance of the date. Percy pushed his forehead against the window.

“The Great Prophecy will trigger when he turns sixteen,” Natasha explained from the front seat. Sam cursed under his breath.

“That’s fucked up.”

“Sorry,” Percy said to the window. Maybe another kid his age would’ve been excited to be on their way to meet the Avengers, but Percy couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but miserable. The Avengers handled end-of-the-world stuff, and Percy? Percy was end-of-the-world stuff.

And Percy had to do it, because if it wasn’t Percy, it would be Nico. And Nico was just a kid.

“Sixteen’s pretty young to be worrying about anything but homework, is all I’m saying,” Sam said.

“Ugh,” Percy muttered. “I’d rather take the monsters.”

Sam let out a snort, and the conversation turned to school and homework and Percy’s new 504 plan, which despite his words made Percy’s mood lighten a little by the time they reached the Avengers compound, some way outside the city.

Natasha led the way inside, and Percy looked around curiously. For the most part, the place looked new and clean; it even smelled a little like construction dust. There was a large gym visible through its glass walls, and a kitchen to the left when they entered the room where all of the Avengers were apparently waiting. They were also playing Mario Kart.

“Man of the hour!” Tony called out, leaning back to make eye contact with Percy, and then, to the others, “Loser has to make way for the kid.”

“Okay, but it’s gonna be you,” Clint tossed back without looking away from the screen. Tony looked back and cursed. Percy walked over, and Steve, not playing, glanced up to give him a small smile.

“Sit down,” Steve said. Percy settled on a free spot on the floor, slightly more than arm’s length from anyone, and Natasha and Sam joined the others on some of the couches. “You go by Percy, don’t you?” Percy nodded, and Steve continued, “How’s Chiron doing? Clint tells me Camp Half-Blood is in America full-time now.”

“Still kicking,” Percy said with a small smile, scooching a more comfortable distance away. “Still bad with kids.”

Clint shook his head. Now that Percy was looking for it, he could see how Clint looked like his brothers. “You’d think that after three thousand years, a man would pick up some social skills, like how not to make teenage boys cry.”

“Right?” Percy said emphatically. “But no, he’s all like, maybe you are simply destined to be a failure, or it’s better for you to be alone, or whatever. I love Chiron to death, obviously, and he’s way better than Mr. D, but man. He knows how to jab you right in your sore spots.”

“Mr. D?” Steve asked. In unison, Tony and Clint snorted.

“You tell him, you tell him,” Clint chortled.

“Dionysus got grounded for messing with the wrong nymph,” Percy said, amused. “Zeus is forcing him to spend a century helping train kids in Camp Half-Blood. But mostly he sits around and grows strawberries.”

Steve sighed, looking disappointed but not surprised. “I always treasure the days when I can forget how childish the gods are.”

“As you should,” Tony said. “They’re few and far between.”

“Shouldn’t he be growing grapes?” Sam wondered.

“He’s not allowed to,” Percy explained. Sam sighed. “I know. It’s so dumb.” Thunder rumbled. “Mr. D isn’t going to stop sleeping with nymphs because you wouldn’t let him grow grapes!”

“He has a point,” Clint said. Thunder rumbled again, louder this time.

The end-of-race music made Percy glance over curiously. Clint had finished a hair ahead of Tony, Rhodey third, but it was Wanda who finished in a distant fourth, and without waiting to be asked, she muttered something and waved her hand, passing the controller to Percy.

Percy caught it, immediately discomfited as he picked up on her genuine bad mood. “Uh, thanks.” She gave him a curt nod, and he scooted forward a little while Tony navigated back to the menu. His reluctance to sit close to anyone put him at a sharp angle from the television, but nothing that would make racing hard. “Am I supposed to be talking about camp now?”

“No rush,” Clint said casually. “I went to visit a couple of days ago and picked up a few interesting stories. I heard your first monster was the Minotaur.”

“That sucked, and I’m lucky that it was just the Minotaur chasing me to camp,” Percy muttered, picking Koopa Cape when Tony gestured for him to choose a racetrack. “But yeah. I still have the horn. Uh, I didn’t have a celestial bronze weapon yet so I snapped off its horn and used that.”

“May I inquire as to the significance of celestial bronze?” Vision asked, the first time he had spoken since Percy’s arrival. Percy flinched in surprise, making his character jerk off course.

“It’s the metal demigods make their weapons out of,” Percy said after a moment, when no one else moved to. “Or like, the Hephaestus kids make them and share them with everyone else. It hurts gods, demigods, and monsters, but not mortals.”

“Does it truly hurt your gods?” Vision asked, sounding oddly interested. Percy grinned a little.

“It sure does.”

“No way,” Clint said, but he was grinning when he tilted his head to look at Percy. “The campers didn’t tell me that story. Spill.”

Percy flushed, but he couldn’t help but be pleased about this one. “Uh, so my first quest was the one to get the lightning bolt back, right? And Luke was the one that took it on Kronos’ orders, but Ares was working with him, trying to, you know, make war and stuff. And he didn’t want me screwing it up, so he tried to kill me and I stabbed him in the ankle.” He hesitated, and then tacked on more quietly, “I didn’t completely get it at the time, but he mentioned- he mentioned dreams. I think Kronos was manipulating him too, somehow.”

“He stopped trying to kill you because you stabbed him in the ankle?” Natasha asked doubtfully.

“Uh,” Percy said intelligently. “No, there was a...” He hesitated. “It’s hard to explain. But there was like... a shadow, that passed over the area, and it felt old and evil. I think it was Kronos.”

“How do you know?” Vision asked.

“Demigods are... let’s say, a little more in tune with the supernatural,” Rhodey contributed, making Percy start again and look over. “That’s anything from prophetic dreams to unnatural intuition or things like Percy just said, perceiving things that wouldn’t otherwise be apparent.”

“Word from camp is that Percy’s prophetic dreams are particularly intense too,” Clint tacked on, glancing at Percy. Percy shrugged and nodded.

“Nearly every night, if I’m on a quest,” he admitted. He passed the finish line for the final time, coming in second. “And a couple times a year outside of them.”

“That’s more than I get, and I’m a son of Apollo,” Clint said.

“And I get jack shit for prophetic dreams,” Tony said, picking Delfino Plaza for the next round. “Good fucking luck with those, kid.”

“Thanks,” Percy said dryly. “It lets me spy on our enemies, at least.”

“Does it really?” Sam asked, fascinated. Percy smiled a little.

“Yeah,” he said. “They usually notice me after a while though, so it’s not as useful as it sounds.” He frowned. “They always know it’s me, too. I dunno how that works.”

“They know you’re dreaming about them?” Sam questioned.

Percy nodded. “They’re like, ‘the son of Poseidon brought himself here, how annoying’ and then they scare the shit out of me so I wake up.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sam said.

“Demigod shit is pure madness, man,” Rhodey said to him, shaking his head. “Give me a boot camp any day, I don’t want to climb their lava-spitting climbing wall.”

“Yes, you do,” Tony disagreed.

“Maybe just once,” Rhodey admitted.

“That reminds me,” Clint said suddenly, knocking Percy off the course. Percy cursed under his breath. “I was saving the coolest news for when Percy got here.”

“Oh, really?” Tony asked.

“Yeah,” Clint said. “Apparently someone took Luke’s title for ‘best swordsman in three hundred years.’” He nodded at Percy.

Tony put his controller in his lap. “No fucking way.”

Percy felt his cheeks flush hot and pleased. “I guess I had to be decent at something.”

“That’s more than decent, Percy,” Steve said kindly. “You should be proud.”

Percy thought it was entirely possible that he’d never been prouder than he felt right at this moment; he felt like he was going to burst. “Yeah,” he managed after a minute, embarrassed by his lame response. But Steve just chuckled.

“So that was your first quest, what was your second?” Clint asked, skipping back a little. Percy knocked him off the course without thinking and contemplated for a moment.

“Uh. I wasn’t technically supposed to go. But Luke poisoned Thalia’s tree-” Someone inhaled sharply. “I know, right?”

“Thalia’s tree?” Steve questioned, brow furrowing.

“Thalia was a daughter of Zeus,” Clint explained grimly. “She came to camp almost seven years ago with Annabeth Chase and Luke Castellan, only she didn’t make it. Of course she didn’t make it, it practically takes a whole team to get a Big Three kid to camp unless they get there young. Her father turned her into a pine tree while she was making her stand on Half-Blood Hill, and that created the barrier that makes it so safe now.”

Steve swore under his breath. “How old was she? I think Peggy said she was at camp by seven, so I can only imagine-”

“She was twelve,” Clint said. “Grover had only just found her. Between that and the oath, poor girl didn’t stand a chance.”

“She’d kill you if she heard you talking about her like that,” Percy said before he could think better of it. “’Cause of what Zeus did, she didn’t die. That summer we brought back the Golden Fleece, and it didn’t just cure the poison, it brought Thalia back. She’s a Huntress now.” He scowled at the television. “I’d give Luke credit for it if I thought for a second he’d meant that to happen.”

“Right, sorry, I was interrupting,” Steve said apologetically, like anyone would care if he talked over Percy. “Remind me to help arrange for you and Thalia to meet Peggy soon though- so, Luke poisoned Thalia’s tree, and then?”

“Uh, a bunch of stuff,” Percy said, missing a turn as he thought about it. “But I guess- Grover was stuck in the same place as the Golden Fleece, because he was looking for Pan and I guess the Fleece smells the same. So Clarisse actually got the quest to look for the fleece, and Annabeth, Tyson, and I left anyway, to help Grover. Um- that was when we found Luke’s evil cruise ship full of monsters, but I think that was the last important thing that happened then, cause you know, after that we brought back the fleece and freed Thalia from the tree.”

“Sounds like you’re skipping a lot of pretty important points,” Rhodey pointed out. Percy shrugged.

“Not really,” he said. “It was just quest stuff. Nothing else had to do with Kronos, least not that I remember.”

“By ‘just quest stuff,’ he means he and his friends almost died several times, but because of monsters instead of titans,” Rhodey said to Sam, with clear disapproval on his face. Sam seemed to have the same opinion. Percy winced, looking away sharply.

Percy was allowed to pick the next course again, so on they went to Maple Treeway.

“Oh, I hate this one,” Clint muttered, and Percy smiled for a moment.

“And last month’s?” Natasha prompted. Percy’s smile fell.

“Oh,” he said, and stopped paying attention long enough for his character to fall off the course. He shook himself and tried halfheartedly to focus again. “Um. So Grover found two half-bloods, Nico and Bianca, and asked me, Thalia, and Annabeth to help get them. And Annabeth got kidnapped while we were doing that, I guess, and got taken to Mount Othrys. Luke had volunteered to take the sky from Atlas, and Annabeth took it from him, and Artemis took it from her.”

He reached up to tug on the streak of grey in his own hair without thinking.

“The weight of the sky can only be forced onto a titan,” Tony explained to Sam in an undertone. “Anyone else has to take it willingly.”

“So we got a quest to go rescue Artemis,” Percy said. “Um, I wasn’t invited on that one either, but they had Annabeth, so.” He shrugged, embarrassed again. “Anyway, Artemis had been tracking Bessie- uh, the Ophiotaurus, and I guess Atlas wanted him too, ‘cause sacrificing him grants wishes, like to destroy Olympus apparently. I kind of found Bessie by accident, when he got caught in a stupid fishing net, which made him easy to get once we knew we were looking for him, and Grover got him to Olympus. Um... That still left rescuing Artemis and Annabeth, so we went to Mount Othrys, and we couldn’t really fight Atlas so I took the sky so Artemis could do it, and Artemis forced Atlas back under it. And then we went back to Olympus and the gods voted on whether or not me and Bessie should die and decided not.”

“I beg your pardon, I must have misheard,” Vision cut in, sounding genuinely concerned. “They... voted on whether to kill you?”

“Uh,” Percy said. “Yeah. ‘Cause I wasn’t supposed to be born and all, and like, if I die, I’m definitely not gonna turn sixteen.”

“And all the stuff we said before about Big Three kids still applies,” Tony said grimly. “I bet they had this conversation multiple times, right, kid?”

“More or less,” Percy admitted, curling up a little as if to hide inside himself.

“Finally!” Clint burst out, making Percy jump. Clint tossed his controller aside. “I’ve been waiting for this round to be over forever. Tony, you’ve got swords in the gym, haven’t you?”

“Mostly steel, but yeah,” Tony agreed. “The celestial bronze is all in my lab.”

“That’s fine,” Clint dismissed. “It’s a shame that none of us are swordsmen.” Percy cocked his head in confusion, and Clint grinned at him. “Want to go a few rounds? I mean, none of us are sword specialists, but Tony and I have enough experience to make up for it.”

“Always,” Percy blurted out before he could think better of it. His cheeks turned hot, but no one seemed to mind, and after a moment he smiled tentatively. “Like, right now?”

“Hell yeah,” Clint said.

So Percy ended up on one side of a sleek arena, bouncing on his heels while he waited for Clint, Tony, and Natasha to finish debating which of them was the least terrible swordsman – apparently Natasha had learned to spar with Clint, and was in the running mainly because Clint and Tony just never used swords. Gods, this was going to be boring, wasn’t it?

He ran that thought through his head again and flushed, glad no one was watching him. He was about to spar with an Avenger. That was cool no matter what.

Finally, Clint grabbed a steel sword out of the mini-armory and hopped up across from Percy, flashing him a broad grin as he dropped into a well-practiced stance. “Ready?”

Percy grinned back. “Definitely.”

“Begin!” Steve called out, and Percy moved first, slashing boldly at Clint just to watch him block it, and their swords clanged together.

Within the first few minutes, Percy could tell that Clint had been taught well; his movements were clean and efficient. But he projected them pretty hard, and he was struggling to find an opening in Percy’s guard. The sword he’d picked was longer than Percy’s too, and he was having trouble taking advantage of that. He knew how to use a sword, but he was right – he was no swordsman.

A minute later, Percy knocked Clint’s sword from his hand, shoved his foot against Clint’s, and body-checked him off the platform. Clint went flying and hit the padded floor with a grunt.

“Whoa there!” Steve interrupted, making Percy jump – he’d almost forgotten where he was for a moment there, and Steve looked upset. “What was that for?”

Percy stepped back, alarmed.

On the ground, Clint let out a wheezing laugh and pushed himself upright, rubbing his shoulder. “Camp rules, Cap, relax. Any half-serious match needs a good finisher.” To Percy, he added, “That was brilliant. Chiron wasn’t exaggerating.”

Percy smiled tentatively, pleased to hear that Chiron thought so highly of him. “Sorry. I guess I forgot we weren’t at camp.”

“We’re both demigods, no reason we shouldn’t spar like it,” Clint dismissed easily. “I’d love to spar using a weapon I’m better with, but unfortunately arrows vs sword is a pretty boring matchup. Any takers?”

It took Percy a moment to realize why Clint had directed that to the rest of the room, and then he flushed again, glancing uncertainly at the others. But none of them looked bored or offended, just thoughtful.

“Give me a minute to get my shield, and I’ll give it a go,” Steve said at last, and gave Percy a small smile. “If you’re comfortable with it.”

Percy blinked, startled by the prospect. “Uh, sure. Go for it.”

Steve disappeared toward the supply room, and Percy took the chance to glance around at the others. Most of them – Tony, Clint, Natasha, Sam, and Rhodey – were watching with obvious interest. Vision and Wanda were talking some distance away, and Percy thought he could see a trace of lovesick fondness on Vision’s face before the android looked back over, and Percy looked away quickly.

“I’m surprised you were so easily thrown off your feet,” Natasha said to Clint, eyes glimmering with amusement. “You realize that kid’s half your size, right?”

“Oh, shut up,” Clint griped, though he didn’t look too bothered. “I was focusing on trying to use the sword. Gods, I’m going to have to go back for lessons – I didn’t think I was that bad.”

“You were okay,” Percy said without thinking, playing with the edge of his sword. He flushed when everyone looked at him. “Um, you have all the movements down, and you’re good with them. But you weren’t keeping out of reach even though your sword is longer, and you were focusing so hard on what you were doing that I could always tell.”

“Does Chiron have you giving lessons already?” Clint asked, clearly impressed. “I thought you’d only been at camp for two summers.” He nodded at Percy’s bead necklace.

If anything, Percy felt even more flustered at that. “Um, no, but he asked me if I would next year. I haven’t decided yet. I mean, I really don’t have that much practice, and I’m still pretty young. One of the older campers would be better, right?”

“Okay, but your instincts are clearly off the charts, and you knew enough to tell me what I was doing wrong,” Clint said. “You should totally do it. You’ll be great.”

Unfamiliar delight flashed through Percy again. “Okay. I think I will.”

Steve emerged from the armory with his shield, and Percy started to feel a little nervous as he joined Percy on the stage. Gods, what had he been thinking? He was gonna look so stupid, trying to go against Captain America in full regalia.

Steve must have read some of that in his face, because he smiled reassuringly. “You’re going to do fine, Percy. This old thing can’t even cut.”

“I can think of a lot of other things it can do, though,” Percy muttered, but he shifted into a defensive stance and nodded, and this time Sam called the signal.

Unsurprisingly, Steve was a lot better with his shield than Clint with a sword. He pressed forward, easily keeping Percy’s sword off of him, and he wouldn’t let Percy past his guard; he kept turning every time Percy tried to find an angle to slip through. He was having a hard time attacking, though, too nice to just slam the hard metal into Percy. Percy would’ve complained if he weren’t focusing so hard.

But if Percy could just...

After almost ten minutes of stalemate, Percy feinted toward Steve’s feet, and Steve slammed his shield down to block the blade. Percy grabbed the rim of it and used its new position to vault himself up and over. He twisted in midair, using the shield for leverage, and swung his arm around Steve’s neck, trying to drag him into a chokehold.

“Oh my,” Vision murmured.

One miscalculation: once Percy had his arm around Steve’s neck, his feet no longer touched the ground, and Steve was too strong to just flop over at the unexpected weight. He swayed, but stayed upright, so Percy’s feet kicked frantically at the ground, suspended a few inches above it.

Steve grunted, grabbed Percy’s wrist, and ripped it away, hard enough to make Percy hiss. With a buck, he threw Percy off, and Percy yelped as he hit the ground hard, Riptide clattering to the ground.

“Yield?” Steve asked, without moving to pin Percy down. Percy sat up and hissed.

“Yeah. Oww...” He’d tried to catch himself on the way down, keep his head from smacking against the ground, but he’d definitely hurt his wrist instead. “Damn it. I didn’t think I was going to just dangle.”

Steve chuckled, offering Percy a hand up. “Happens to the best of us. I wasn’t expecting you to vault over me like that, that’s for sure. Are you alright?”

Percy flexed his wrist, winced, and nodded. “Yeah, I think I just pulled it. I’ll go for a swim later, it’s fine.”

“Does water heal you?” Steve asked, surprised. Percy nodded. “That’s a rare ability.”

Percy smiled a little, embarrassed. “Definitely comes in handy.”

“There’s a pool around here somewhere,” Sam said, frowning at Percy’s hand where Percy was cradling it. “I was pretty curious about your water powers anyway, let’s go.”

Percy felt a sense of surreality as they moved on to the pool room to, apparently, check out Percy’s cool ass powers. He wondered anxiously what they were expecting to see – what they wanted to see. He folded his hands behind his back and wavered uncomfortably for a moment, and Tony just gestured toward the pool.

“Don’t worry about showing us anything specific,” Tony said, apparently reading his mind. “Show off some of the things you’re proud of, try out some things. Your powers are still growing anyway, so it’s not like this is gonna be the end of it.”

“Alright...” Percy said, a little uncertain, and he dropped down over the side into the water, slipping in without hesitation, still fully clothed. He immediately felt better, energy and confidence from the water flooding him the moment he made contact. The pain in his wrist faded in seconds. He popped back up a moment later to hover on one side of the pool, looking up expectantly.

“You’re dry,” Natasha noted, with the first hint of what seemed to be genuine wonder that Percy had heard from her. Percy smiled a little and nodded.

“If one of you has a lighter or something, I can light a fire underwater,” he offered. “And I’ve taken Annabeth underwater with me in a bubble of air.”

“Does controlling air bubbles in the water really count as controlling water?” Clint wondered.

“Apparently,” Percy shrugged.

“May I try?” Vision asked politely, already crouching down as if to slip into the water.

“Sure,” Percy said, reaching up. “But hold your breath at first. You’ll stay dry, but it’ll take a minute to get a good air bubble.”

Vision nodded, accepted his hand, and hopped into the pool. Effortlessly, Percy pulled them both down, and gathered the bubbles from their two dives around Vision’s head, making a little helmet of air. Vision held up a hand, flexed his fingers, and then gave Percy a delighted smile. Percy grinned back, and then let them back up.

“I remain quite dry,” Vision reported to the others as soon as he was up, swimming toward the edge. He released Percy’s hand before Percy could think to stop him, and Percy winced. “Ah!”

“Sorry,” Percy said. “I should have warned you.”

“No, no, I ought to have thought about the situation logically,” Vision disagreed. Percy swam over to him and grabbed his hand again, and Vision made a sound of surprise. “Oh my!”

“Don’t you fucking tell me you’re dry,” Sam said incredulously.

“I am once again quite dry,” Vision said, smiling. He pulled himself back out of the pool, and this time Percy kept a hold of his hand until he was clear. “Thank you, Perseus.”

“Call me Percy, please,” Percy said automatically, and then, embarrassed, clarified, “Only monsters call me Perseus.”

“Percy, then,” Vision agreed.

“What the hell?” Clint complained. “Monsters hardly ever call me by name.”

“Oh, good, I’m special, again,” Percy said dryly, and then pulled himself up until only his feet were still in the water, kicked experimentally, and willed the water to swirl around, tighter and tighter. In another minute, there was a large whirlpool taking up most of the pool, the center dipping more than halfway down into the basin and the edges threatening to spill over.

“Think you can make a waterspout?” Rhodey asked, looking interested as he leaned forward.

Percy shrugged and waved one of his hands in a purposeful pulling motion, like he was digging his fingers into the whirlpool to spin it faster, and it did. The tug in his gut grew slightly painful, and the whirlpool spun until the center started to rise back up again. But he didn’t manage to get it higher than just above the top of the basin before he was forced to release it, panting like he’d run a marathon.

“Ow,” he complained, leaning back on one hand and pressing against his stomach with the other.

“Still pretty impressive,” Rhodey said decisively, and Percy managed a grin.

“Impressive,” agreed Wanda, her accent unmistakable, though it was the first time Percy had heard her speak today. She strode out from behind the cluster of Avengers and met Percy’s eyes, and his stomach clenched nervously. There was no mistaking the inferno of hurt and pent-up frustration that was churning behind those eyes. “Quite a lofty birthright you’ve found yourself gifted, hm?”

Percy nodded hesitantly, tilting his head up to look at her. “Yeah. I guess there had to be some benefit to being the son of Poseidon.”

Wanda smiled at him, the empty sort of smile that meant someone was too blinded by pain to really see you. Percy tensed, fingers digging into the concrete. “Plenty, I should think. Did you know that Steve spent over an hour coaching us on how to be gentle with you before you came?”

Oh, that was humiliating. “Sorry. I’m kind of touchy, I guess.”

“I imagine you come by it honestly,” Wanda said sweetly. Percy felt a skipped heartbeat in his throat, and swallowed. “So tell me. How many people do you think will die because of your mother’s indiscretion?”

Percy didn’t remember making the conscious decision to turn it into a fight. The words reverberated in his ears, and he slid one foot forward, turned on his heel, and kicked, and half the water in the room rushed toward Wanda, more flooding out of the pool to fill the room. She withstood the first knee-high wave with only a grimace, and then he yanked, and all the water came rushing back the other way; she had to catch herself with her powers to keep from falling.

She waved, and Percy had to dive out of the way of a potted plant, only to be caught in red light and tossed head over heel, landing roughly on the ground. He grunted.

“Natasha-” Steve hissed, and Natasha pushed him back slightly, giving him a look Percy couldn’t see.

Undeterred, Percy rolled to his feet and focused on the floor under Wanda’s feet. Tile, soaked. He imagined the water sliding out from under her, the surface becoming slick and dangerous, and then feinted to one side. Sure enough, Wanda shifted her weight to follow, slipped, and had no time to catch herself before she fell, very nearly into the deep pool.

Without thinking, Percy launched himself toward her, shooting across the ground with the same force he’d used to make her fall, and tackled her into the deep pool. He dragged them both under, and on second thought, pulled a bubble of air around her face even as he refused to let go. They both ended up on the bottom, with Percy effortlessly holding Wanda down. She struggled, but it got her nowhere.

Then she lifted her hand, and her outstretched fingers made contact with his temple. The world went dark.

Chapter Text

Percy was eight, sitting on the couch to watch Gabe and his buddies play poker. Gabe was laughing, a burbled, echoing sound that made Percy nauseous. He pulled his knees to his chest and watched them sullenly.

“And then the kid says to me, then he says, he’s just a sea creature! A really nice sea creature!” Gabe paused to cackle, chugged half his beer, and slammed it down. “He says, you can’t destroy him!”

This time they all laugh with him, an awful, grating chorus of noise that pressed down all around Percy’s head and shoulders and into his lungs.

“Gabe, man, take your damn turn,” one of them said, nudging Gabe pointedly. Gabe waved his hand dismissively, tossed some bills in, and threw out two cards.

“And I say to the kid, I can do whatever the hell I want, and if you talk back again-” Gabe flashed a smirk, grabbed his bottle of beer, and raised it in a salute, and finished his punchline. “I’ll punch your fucking lights out!”

They roared with laughter, clinking their beers as if in a toast, gulping them down greedily. Some spilled out of their mouths and down their throats.

“And then what, Gabe?” Eddie asked indulgently, passing his turn with a wave of his hand. “Did he keep his mouth shut?”

“Of course not,” Gabe laughed, slamming the empty bottle down. “So then he says, The Ophiotaurus is innocent! Killing something like that is wrooong!” He drew out the last word mockingly, making sure to turn his head to make eye contact with Percy, smirking. “He says, You have to protect him.”

“It’s bad strategy to keep the animal alive,” Gabe’s other friend commented mildly, considering his hand before discarding three cards for new ones. “Or the boy.”

“So what did you do, Gabe?” Eddie asked.

Gabe cackled again. “What do you think I did? I slammed his head into the wall!”

When his vision finally cleared, Percy was crying. Nothing dramatic, but he was gasping for breath, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes. The contorted memory had caught him with his guard completely down, and he couldn’t even make enough sense of the damn thing to feel anything but completely eviscerated.

He was sitting at the bottom of the pool, crammed into a corner, and someone was arguing on the floor above. Percy struggled to get control of his breathing, but his lungs didn’t want to cooperate.

Finally, someone dropped into the water a comfortable distance away from Percy, still fully clothed. It was Sam, struggling a little to stay at the bottom, but he made his slow way toward Percy and held his hand out silently.

Percy took a deep, shuddering breath, reached out, and grabbed it. A moment later, he pulled an air bubble around Sam’s head, and they both stayed at the bottom of the pool for a minute. Percy was shaking. Finally, Sam tugged, and Percy numbly followed him to the shallow end, then up the stairs and out of the water. Sam let go, stepped respectfully away, and turned to Percy. He wasn’t smiling; he looked tired.

“You alright?” he asked quietly. Percy’s breath hitched violently, and he forced himself to nod. Sam’s voice stayed calm. “Okay. Clint took Wanda out of the room. Do you need anyone else out?”

Percy started to speak, but his voice caught in his throat, cut off by his spasming throat. He tried again. “’M fine.”

“Percy, Wanda specializes in amalgams of trauma,” Sam said, soft and patient. “She once took down everyone in the old team with that move. You’re not okay.”

Oh. Percy closed his eyes and forced himself to take another deep breath.

“Sorry,” he said at last. He was trembling. “It would have been better for everyone if I’d never been born. I’m really sorry.”

Sam cursed under his breath and turned his head. “Natasha, seriously-”

“Yes, alright,” Natasha said softly. Percy flinched violently when she emerged from what turned out to be the slightly dispersed cluster of the rest of the Avengers, all tense and mostly angry. Natasha stopped beside Sam, who gratefully retreated, and met Percy’s eyes evenly. “Come on, Percy, we’re going to the kitchen.”

Confused and still struggling to center himself, Percy followed Natasha out the door and down a couple of halls, and she really did lead him to a kitchen. She flicked her wrist toward the island, set with a row of stools, and he sat down, bracing his feet against the footrest and bouncing them anxiously.

“Pick a comfort food,” Natasha said calmly. “Stark’s stocked this place with more or less everything.”

“...Blue candy?” Percy asked quietly, before he could get a chance to feel stupid about it.

Natasha just nodded, turned away, and started rummaging through the pantry. Within five minutes, she’d produced a half pound bag of M&Ms, a plastic pack of gummy sharks, two blue rock candy sticks, and a handful of various blue saltwater taffies.

She looked like she was prepared to go back in, frowning at the limited options, but she stopped when Percy reached for the pack of gummy sharks, ripped it open, and started eating. Instead, Natasha went to the fridge, grabbed out a fresh pack of blueberries, and sat down a few stools away from Percy to eat them. The sugar was soothing; the smell of candy always reminded him of his mother.

“Better?” Natasha asked after a while, when Percy had taken a handful of M&Ms and started sorting through for just the blue ones.

Percy snorted and managed to flash her a smile. “I still feel like shit,” he informed her, “but I can hear myself think now.” He was quiet for a moment. “Thanks. You didn’t have to help.”

“I’m sorry Wanda lashed out at you,” Natasha said, instead of replying. “She’s been struggling, between the loss of her brother and what happened in Sokovia, but we thought she had more self-control than that. What happened?”

Percy shivered, which was what it took for him to realize he’d stopped shaking.

“It was, um. It was kind of weird,” he said quietly.

“Wanda showed me a ballet class,” Natasha said without missing a beat. It took a moment before Percy understood, but then he swallowed and nodded.

“It was a poker game,” he told her without looking at her. “Um, my stepfather, Gabe, he used to play poker and drink with his buddies. And he was telling a story, the, the kind of thing he used to tell so he and his buddies could laugh at me. B-but instead of anything from then. It was- it was about the Ophiotaurus, when I was trying to convince my dad not to let them kill him.” Or me, he didn’t say. “And. Instead of giving in, like my dad had. Gabe was laughing about how he shut me up instead.”

Natasha didn’t say anything right away. Percy exhaled, leaned on the counter, and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.

“Fucker,” he muttered viciously, ignoring the way his voice wanted to crack again. “This didn’t have anything to do with that stupid piece of shit. As if he could even say the word ‘Ophiotaurus.’”

“It’s terrible,” Natasha murmured, “the way that abusers can seem more powerful than gods to the people they hurt.”

A sharp shudder ran down Percy’s spine. Neither he or his mom had ever used the actual word before. It gave the memory of Gabe too much power – or so Percy would have said before today.

“I don’t have time to be like this,” Percy told Natasha impulsively. He ripped open one of the packaged rock candy sticks and stuck it in his mouth, holding it there for a minute before he continued. “There are real monsters to worry about, and titans, and Luke and Ares and-” He cut himself off, miserable. “I can’t waste time feeling sorry for myself.”

“You won’t, when it counts,” Natasha said, with calm certainty. “Until then, it’s not feeling sorry for yourself. It’s tending to the injuries that jackass left you with.”

Percy was surprised to realize that he really did feel better now – not good, not even okay, but not awful either. “Oh.”

Natasha gave him a brief smile. “You want to go play some more video games, or are big guys still a little much for now?”

That was... an embarrassing tic for an Avenger to know about, but not a surprise either. Not from the Widow. “As long as no one tries to sit with me. And, um. Can we stop talking about the fact that it would be safer for everyone if I was dead?” He saw Natasha frown, and added tersely, “I know it’s true, okay? I’m not stupid. I’m just not usually that sensitive about it.”

Natasha held his gaze for a long moment, and then nodded. “Why don’t you take some candy with you?”

So Percy gathered up the remaining candy into a Ziploc bag, which he carried with him back to the TV room, where he took the same place on the floor. There was no awkward silence, which he was grateful for; he definitely didn’t want to deal with that right now. Wanda and Clint were both still noticeably absent, and Steve was frowning at nothing in disapproval.

“Stop taking my damn coins!” Rhodey demanded of Vision.

“I will endeavor to,” Vision said, dry as dust.

Tony, Vision, Sam, and Rhodey were playing Mario Party in teams, Tony and Rhodey against Sam and Vision. Vision did not appear to be incredibly invested, and readily offered his controller to Percy when he appeared.

“Is Wanda alright?” Percy asked without thinking, accepting it. All of them looked at him, and he winced and scooted back, glancing away. “I, uh. I don’t know if the air bubble held after she hit me with the thing. I didn’t mean to drown her or anything.”

“She is fine,” Vision assured him. “The air bubble did burst, but you also were no longer holding her, so she was able to surface easily.”

“Okay, good,” Percy said uncomfortably, turning toward the television. Natasha cleared her throat.

“Percy was surprised to learn that there were adult demigods,” she announced.

“You know what, that’s fair,” Tony said before Percy could protest, apparently seizing on the topic. “I’ve only visited over the years, but I was actually a year-round camper as a kid- that was before Clint got there though-”

According to Tony, Camp Half-Blood had changed very, very little over the last few decades, and he spoke of it with the same love that Annabeth or Clarisse or Beckendorf did – all of the senior campers. It was weird to hear about Chiron playing the exact same mentor role to a man three decades Percy’s senior, not to mention Mr. D, but it was also pretty cool.

Then Rhodey started comparing the place to a boot camp, mostly to laugh at the juxtaposition of the ideas, and he and Sam debated whether it would be more chaotic to send demigods to boot camp, or to have drill sergeants try and control Camp Half-Blood. (Percy thought both ideas were pretty funny, but the latter was more likely to end in blood. Demigods took insults to Camp Half-Blood very personally.)

They finished the game about two hours before Sam and Natasha had promised to have Percy home, but apparently it was obvious how worn out Percy was, because that ended up being the signal to wrap up anyway. Percy was plied with a bag of all-blue M&Ms, which he suspected had arrived while they were playing, and then bundled into the same car he’d been brought out in.

He passed out against the window somewhere on the way back home.

“That was an experiment gone moderately wrong,” Natasha commented, when she and Sam finally got back to the compound. She settled back on the couch, and the console was turned off as the others drew their attention to the informal debrief.

“You think?” Sam said tersely. “He was apologizing for being born.”

“I got the impression that he was already sorry for being born,” Natasha said, “and Wanda just exacerbated the issue. At least, he claimed that he isn’t usually so, and I quote, sensitive about it.”

“And we have learned a significant amount about how he responds to stress,” Vision pointed out. “The circumstances were most unfortunate, and the process unnecessarily taxing on the poor child, but we did get what we needed.”

“What tripped him out so bad, anyway?” Tony asked Natasha.

“From the sound of it?” she said. “The image of being mocked and beaten for trying to convince his father not to let the other gods kill him.”

“Yikes.”

Natasha nodded. “He’s dealing about as well as any fourteen year old could with the fact that his survival is a matter of constant debate. The main complication is that his history of abuse means that his self-esteem is completely tanked.”

“No kidding,” Sam agreed. “I don’t even wanna count the number of things he apologized for, and- I don’t know, something is bothering me about the way he talked about his quests.”

“The fact that he took himself almost completely out of them?” Tony suggested. “So I took the sky so Artemis could do it. He’s fourteen and he wasn’t even trying to show off? In front of us?”

“It would help if we had any idea at all of what it’ll actually come down to,” Clint said dryly, leaning back against the side of the couch. “Who the hell knows. Maybe self-confidence would be counterproductive. It might not be as straightforward as a choice between Olympus and Kronos.”

“What do you think, Miss Rushman?” Tony prompted Natasha, a slight quirk of his lips taking any heat out of it. Natasha considered carefully.

“He definitely understands the responsibility on him,” Natasha said after a while, “which is honestly much more than I would expect of most kids his age, but that’s demigods for you. He’s soft – depending on what happens, that could be a problem.”

“Not unusual for a son of Poseidon though,” Steve contributed, with a slightly sheepish shrug. “Loyalty’s a common flaw with them.”

“Do they really all come out that similar?” Sam asked, bemused.

“Demigod children tend to heavily favor their immortal parents,” Tony explained, “and of course, they all have their type too. From what I hear, Lord Poseidon likes his women clever, kind, and defiant, so...” He waved his hand.

“Gotcha,” Sam said. “So we got a good read on the kid, but still have no idea how that’s gonna pan out in the end?” He got a few sheepish shrugs in return. “Great. In that case, I got a suggestion for y’all.”

“Of course,” Steve said earnestly, meeting his eyes. Sam leaned back and crossed his arms.

“Focus less on the prophecy and more on the abused kid,” he said. “He’s insecure, jaded, and wary of authority figures, which isn’t super promising for him or us in the long term. You want to keep him close, right? Start building trust with him. It’ll do him good.”

“Wait, do we want to keep him close?” Clint asked, startled, turning to frown at the rest of them. “I thought this was just reconnaissance on the prophecy kid.”

“It can’t hurt,” Tony said, shrugging. “Just to keep an eye on him, maybe give him some training. He seems like a good kid, but he’s a Big Three kid, and everything we’ve heard from camp describes him as the strongest in centuries, if not millennia. He might be a good Avenger candidate, when he’s older, but one way or another we don’t want him running completely loose.”

“And you wonder why the kid has trust issues,” Clint muttered.

“As long as we don’t let something like today happen again,” Sam said dryly, and then, to Clint, “What was up with Wanda?”

Clint grimaced and rubbed his face.

“As soon as she realized that Percy was only alive because his dad liked him, it was over,” he said tiredly. “No Percy, no war, in theory; it makes it easy to lash out at him.” He shrugged. “She’s seen firsthand how ugly things can get, after all, and it’s easier to make it all Percy’s fault than to accept it as inevitable.”

“She hasn’t found herself yet,” Vision said quietly, expression solemn. “Until she does, she will be as the injured animal, perceiving everything as a threat.”

“Percy is fourteen,” Sam repeated, exasperated. “Fuck’s sake. He’s still smaller than his mother. If she’s got a problem, at least teach her to talk it out with Steve or Clint before picking a fight with a teenager.”

“Wanda’s a teenager too,” Steve said defensively.

“Nineteen,” Sam said flatly. “Steve, there’s young and then there’s young.”

Steve tilted his head, granting the point with a grimace. “I’ll talk to her,” he promised.

“There was one other thing,” Tony said suddenly, and when the others looked at him, continued, “I think I’ll shoot Thor an Iris Message. I know he’s worried about something-or-other up there, but a year and a half- that’s nothing. We need him on Earth now.”

“You aren’t kidding around with this ‘the big fight’ stuff, are you?” Sam asked wearily.

“Kronos hasn’t stirred like this in thousands of years,” Tony said. “It’s not good that he’s so active now. This isn’t the first Great Prophecy to hit the Greek World, but it’s not shaping up to be an easy one.”

Chapter Text

February was a good month for the Jacksons.

Nothing was ever going to make Percy like school, but the new accommodations meant that most of his least favorite parts had abruptly disappeared. His teachers still didn’t like him, he was a pain in the ass, but he took to going for runs around the city while he listened to whatever reading he was supposed to be doing, and he could kind of remember enough from them to pass the verbal quizzing they had to give him now. He was starting to entertain the idea that he might even get a B in history this term, if he tried hard enough.

Sally, who had started to spend evenings studying with Percy just the year before, her own textbooks scattered around her, now for the first time in Percy’s memory also had a social life. She and Karen spoke on the phone most evenings, and she was constantly getting texts, chatting with Foggy and Natasha throughout the day. She and Foggy went on dates every Saturday, even if it was just to the park or the sea, and she started regularly helping out at bake sale fundraisers- especially, Percy noticed, ones for nonprofits related to domestic violence.

Of course, everything she baked for those was blue.

“Would you mind if I did an article on that?” Ben asked Sally one day, when they were hanging out at the office and Ben dropping by for a visit. Sally looked startled, and Ben gave her a small smile and clarified, “I’d love for everything I wrote to be a hard-hitting exposé, but I do still need to earn a living, and my editor likes his human interest pieces. I think your case would be a good compromise. And your debut novel is coming out next month, isn’t it? I’d certainly mention that.”

Sally blinked for a moment, and then smiled at Ben. “Of course, it’s the least I can do.”

So Sally and Ben went out for coffee and an interview, while Percy hung out in the law office, talked to Karen about monsters, and occasionally stole some of Matt’s papers to touch the braille, trying to distinguish the patterns under his fingertips.

“Satyrs aren’t anything to worry about,” Percy assured Karen earnestly. “I’ve never heard of one hurting anyone, except like, Coach Hedge, and he’s just grouchy. If you see a satyr wandering around, they’re probably either looking for Pan or for half-bloods.”

“Is this an evil Coach Hedge?” Karen asked dubiously. Percy laughed and shook his head.

“Nah, he’s a protector – uh, one of the satyrs that goes out to schools to sniff out half-bloods. He’s too old to pass as a student though, so he usually passes as a substitute gym teacher. Lets him get around.” He blinked, and then turned to Matt. “Hey, Matt, what do I smell like?”

“A question I’ve gone out of my way to avoid asking,” Foggy muttered. Matt let out a snort.

“I’ve actually been wondering that myself,” Matt admitted thoughtfully. “It’s hard to put my finger on. A little like an ocean breeze, I guess, and also a little like if the sound of windchimes had a smell.”

“That’s so cool,” Percy said emphatically, oddly pleased by the revelation. He thought about it for a second. “Although ‘the sound of windchimes’ doesn’t really sound like a smell that would make me hungry.”

“It also smells like that food- ambrosia? That your mother gave you the other week,” Matt said. Percy made a sound of surprise.

“Divinity,” he said. “I guess that makes sense.”

“And what does that taste like?” Karen asked curiously. “Can I try?”

“Uh, no,” Percy said. “You’d burn up, it’s not safe for mortals or monsters to eat. You gotta have divine blood. Sorry. But the taste changes from person to person. I guess you could say it tastes like home.” He smiled a little. “For me, ambrosia usually tastes like microwave popcorn or the s’mores from camp, and nectar is exactly like my mom’s chocolate chip cookies.”

“Microwave popcorn?” Matt asked, baffled.

“Matt hates the stuff,” Foggy explained. Percy snickered quietly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean- that’s every late night my mom and I have spent watching movies at Montauk, you know? Microwave popcorn.”

“That’s so sweet,” Karen said with wonder. Percy sat up all at once.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Matt should probably have some at his apartment, huh? Demigods still shouldn’t eat a lot, ‘cause we’ll also burn up if we eat too much, but small amounts can heal you.”

“I’m so jealous of you right now, Murdock,” Foggy informed Matt.

“As long as it doesn’t taste like microwave popcorn,” Matt said with a smile. It faded quickly. “Percy. I admit, I’ve been wondering.” Percy cocked his head. “How did you find out who your father was?”

Percy winced. “I got lucky,” he said apologetically. “For one thing, Mom’s clearsighted, so she always knew. Plus I have some pretty telling powers – like, before I ever knew who I was, I could still heal with water, control it, it made me stronger. I mean, Dad claimed me too, but by then it was basically a formality.”

“And for those that don’t get lucky?” Matt asked. Foggy and Karen had fallen silent.

“The ones who don’t get lucky at all?” Percy said. “Those kids live in the Hermes cabin. God of travelers. It’s always overcrowded because a lot of kids just... don’t ever get claimed. So they never know who their immortal parent is.”

“That’s horrible,” Foggy said, looking genuinely distressed. Percy surprised himself by nodding.

“My dad likes me,” he said plainly, watching his feet scuff against the floor. “I wouldn’t be alive if he didn’t. But for the most part, gods don’t make very good parents. They just don’t care. Sorry if you were hoping for better.”

Thunder cracked sharply. Percy didn’t grace it with a response.

Matt smiled dryly.

“I was,” he admitted, “but fortunately I’m a grown man with a job, and not a teenager. I’ll survive without learning who my mother is.”

Ben’s feature came out about two weeks later: a lengthy, thoughtful piece on domestic violence nonprofit organizations, centered around the conversation that he and Sally had apparently had over what turned out to be multiple coffees and a couple of bagels. They discussed the reputations of different women’s shelters, the complications involved in seeking help, some of the people Sally had met during fundraiser events.

Sally also explained the blue food thing, a lot more artfully than Percy had.

“At the time I didn’t think anything of it,” Sally says to me. “I never really cared for blue food before that, you know. I thought it looked painfully artificial. But it kept bothering me... I think it was because Gabriel was always so derisive about anything whimsical. It was a particularly sore point between us. And the next time I went to the grocery store, I couldn’t resist. I knew I could prove him wrong, just this once. Percy and I found every blue food the store had in stock, and we brought them home.”

Sally smiles at the memory. Sally has an enchanting smile; something about it complements her graying hair, and I am oddly reminded of my own beautiful wife. They have the same talent for making an entire room feel warm.

“I probably would have stopped there,” Sally admits, “but Percy just loved it so much. He was about five at the time, and he kept asking for blue candy, blue corn chips, blue sodas... and before long it stopped being about Gabriel at all. It was about making Percy smile.” Her eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light of the coffee shop, and she takes a sip before she continues; it is clear to me that she is considering her next words with care, and she does not disappoint. “Since Gabriel left, I’ve started to consider it a symbol of our recovery as well. He left his mark on us, but our lives are not about him. They never really were.”

That was the passage that other news sites picked through and echoed over and over again over the next few weeks, cherry-picking from the story to share the fruit. Before long, it was everywhere.

It stopped being about Gabriel at all, they quoted, often in large, bold letters to make it stand out from the rest. It was about making Percy smile.

It’s our color. Mine and Mom’s, others added, drawing from the article Ben had written about Fisk’s attack. Or one of Ben’s observations: Frequently, Percy looks to his mother for guidance; it’s clear to me that he thinks the world of her even as he enters his teen years.

“I don’t even know what to think of it,” Sally admitted to Percy, looking flustered as she scrolled through a whole page of Google results. “I mean- I’m so happy that it resonates with people, of course, but...”

She trailed off, and Percy, sprawled across the rest of the couch, tilted his head up to look at her. She didn’t look unhappy at all, he thought – a little embarrassed, a little confused, but not upset.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he said after a minute. He shrugged when she looked at him. “I mean- most of the details of what Smelly Gabe did aren’t out, and that’s the stuff that would really hurt. And Gabe’s not around anymore, so it’s not like he’s gonna retaliate. This is just... our good thing making a lot of people really happy.” He grinned at her, half-covered by his arm where his cheek mashed against it. “Also a lot of people are calling him Smelly Gabe now and I love it.”

Sally let out a laugh, reaching over to ruffle Percy’s hair affectionately. “That’s true,” she said softly. “It really doesn’t bother you?” Percy shook his head, and Sally smiled at him, still looking a little pensive and worry-worn. “I just can’t bring myself to... I mean, goodness, it’s not as if Gabriel was ever the most dangerous thing in our lives- oh, Percy.”

Percy had dropped his gaze from hers, and wasn’t quite hiding his face in his elbow, but he’d come pretty close. Sally was right, looking back; Percy never should have been so frightened of Gabe.

Like always, Sally seemed to instantly understand.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Percy,” she said quietly, running her fingers through his hair again, more gently this time. “Heavens, I could see how much damage he was doing to you day by day. No child should be as self-conscious as you were about needing help – children are meant to ask for help.” Her eyes flashed with anger, stormy as the sea for the span of a breath. “If there’s one thing I’ll never forgive that man for, it’s how difficult he made it for you to believe in yourself.”

A couple of years late, Percy’s brain made the connection. “Oh. That asshole is the reason my self-esteem is wrecked?” Before Sally could respond, he flushed and added, “Uh. Luke mentioned it, before...”

Well. Before.

Percy hid his face for real this time, and Sally’s fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, rubbing gently.

“Goodness,” Sally murmured. “I’m sorry, Percy. This is a talk we should have had quite some time ago, isn’t it?”

Percy shrugged. Smelly Gabe was the one thing they’d ever had trouble talking candidly with each other about. It fucking figured, too.

“He made a game out of humiliating you, Percy,” Sally said softly, with only an echo of her real anguish in her voice. “Of course you’re more sensitive now. Anyone would be.” Quieter, “He really hurt you.”

Oddly, hearing it said aloud made Percy’s eyes sting. He ignored it.

“I realized the other day that Dad listens to me more than Smelly Gabe used to,” he said suddenly, without looking up. “How fucked is that? The god of the seas cares more about my opinion than that stinky ballsack in Wal-Mart clothing ever did.” He paused. “Sorry, Mom.”

Sally was giggling helplessly. “Oh, sweetie,” she said fondly, scratching the back of his neck until he arched like a cat. “I’m glad. There’s so little your father can do for you, but learning that he listens to you... that means a lot to me.”

Percy peeked up and smiled at her.

“...Yeah,” he said at last. “Me, too.”

Sally smiled at him, then dropped her gaze back to her laptop. “You know, I bet we could make something out of this. Maybe a bake sale of our own...”

“This is impressive work,” Matt commented to Beckendorf, tapping the celestial bronze cane along the ground experimentally. “You must have done your research; a probing cane needs to deliver some very specific feedback to the user.”

“Ah, I’m glad it worked out,” Beckendorf said, smiling sheepishly. “Me and my girlfriend actually took a trip out to a library and like, a rehabilitation facility to work out the details. You sure you want to keep it a blunt weapon, though? I could build something in.”

He looked hopeful that Matt would change his mind, and Percy had to hide a grin; there was a reason he’d made sure Beckendorf got this request. There was nothing the Hephaestus kid liked more than something new to make.

“A blunt weapon is what I use against muggers,” Matt said with humor. “I assume it works just as well against monsters.”

“Sure does,” Beckendorf said cheerfully, not showing his disappointment. “You want to take it out to the training ground? I want to see how you fight, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since Percy told me about you.”

Matt looked toward Percy and raised an eyebrow. Percy explained, a little defensively, “I told him that you were blind but could fight anyway. It was relevant, okay?”

Matt chuckled, ceding the point, and he and Beckendorf went on ahead, Matt still tapping the cane attentively back and forth.

They fell in at the edge of the arena. A small crowd of year-round demigods had gathered around to watch the spectacle, most of them as fascinated by the idea of an adult demigod as Percy had been.

“You ready to put that staff to the test?” Beckendorf asked Matt with a grin. Matt flashed him a smile with a few too many teeth.

He went into the arena with a general air of anticipation, turned around, and waited. The first challenger had to be nudged and pushed in, none of the kids wanting to be the first one to swing a sword at a blind man. Eventually, though, an Apollo kid ended up in the ring, looking sheepish and vaguely resigned, and Matt shifted his grip on his cane – less pointer, more staff. He tapped the kid on the hip.

“Come on,” he said, with a smile that Percy could almost believe had fangs. “I don’t bite.”

The Apollo kid raised her sword, and then stepped forward and swung. It clanged off the cane, and the fight was on.

If Matt was making any attempt to hide his abilities, it was cursory at best; Percy thought he might just plain be enjoying himself too much to put any heart into the ruse. He didn’t seem to have any trouble combating the bladed weapon with the makeshift staff, either, and soon the Apollo kid shifted gears too, becoming more focused and eager.

Finally, Matt landed a sweep across the kid’s calves, and the kid stumbled, then fell. Matt jabbed the cane into the ground, right beside the kid’s throat, and smiled down at them.

“Feel better about fighting a blind man now?” he teased gently, and then reached down to help the kid up.

“Holy shit,” the kid said, grasping his hand to rise to her feet, face lit up with childish delight. “That was incredible.”

The demigod kids were a lot more eager to challenge Matt after that, bumping and arguing playfully for the chance to hop up onto the arena. Percy stood back to watch, snickering under his breath, but was distracted when Silena grasped his wrist, feather-light.

He turned his head to give her an inquisitive look, and she tilted her head toward a nearby patch of woods. Curious, Percy followed her far enough into the trees to give them a semblance of privacy, and then sat with her under a bush that was just starting to sprout with spring growth.

"I saw the story about your mom," Silena said at last. Percy stared at her blankly. "Blue food?"

Percy’s eyes went wide, and his lips parted a little, confusion turning to surprise.

It hadn’t occurred to him that people from camp might see it, and suddenly, he understood what his mom had meant when she said she didn’t know how to feel. There was something- not good, not bad, but vulnerable in having them know. He was sure it was real encouraging, knowing the fate of Olympus rested on a fuck-up like him.

“Oh,” he managed. “Uh, do you know who else has?”

“Most of the camp,” Silena admitted, clasping her hands behind her back. “The Stolls took a day trip out and brought back a newspaper with it, and word spread around pretty quickly. I think even Chiron looked at it.”

Percy felt flustered. “I wouldn’t have thought anyone would care,” he admitted, crossing his arms uncomfortably. He hadn’t even been at camp that long, not like most of them.

“Of course everyone cares, Percy,” Silena said gently. “It’s you.”

Percy turned pink. What could he even say to that?

There was a soft gleam of understanding in Silena’s eyes. “I always had a feeling, to be honest. Something about the way you hold yourself.” Percy made a face, and Silena smiled sheepishly. “I mean- you always seem sort of defensive. Not as much as you used to be, but you look at people like you expect them to hurt you. I’m not the only one that noticed.”

Percy felt uncomfortably exposed. “Yeah, I guess. But you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“No?” Silena murmured, eyes on him. “Aphrodite claims abuse survivors as part of her domain, you know. Like Hermes with travelers and Apollo with musicians. They’re under her protection.”

Percy’s brow furrowed. “How come?”

“Love is love,” Silena explained. “Even when that love is awful and twisted and selfish, it’s still love, and that makes it Aphrodite’s responsibility. The people hurt by it are hers to look after.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Percy told her. “Mom never really liked Smelly Gabe, and I hated him.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Silena said firmly. “You’re welcome in the Aphrodite cabin, and you can ask for her blessing. Anytime you need somewhere you know you’ll feel safe. I should have offered when you first came to camp.”

Percy blinked at her, unsure of how to feel about this. He and Silena didn’t usually talk much, though they were friendly enough, but she was well-known to be a sweet and gentle soul. It was kind of weird. Usually Percy was the soft one among his friends, outside of battle.

“...Thanks,” he said, softer than he’d meant. He cleared his throat. “Sorry to make things weird. I don’t think either Mom or I meant that article to reach camp.”

“I’m glad it did,” Silena said. “Between you and me, there’s a lot more survivors here than you find in most other places. Gods don’t exactly pick their flings based on who’d make good parents.”

“Guess not,” Percy murmured. And then, “Mom’s organizing a bake sale around Easter, if, um, if you think anyone would be interested. She said she wanted to make something good out of the attention.”

“I’ll ask around,” Silena promised earnestly, and Percy smiled at her.

“You should fight Percy!” someone shouted, making Percy start and look over his shoulder. Matt was still on the arena, surrounded by kids, looking rather amused as they burst into an excitable chorus.

“Percy, get up here!”

“Percy, Percy!”

Percy grinned, and without hesitation, he nodded to Silena, then crossed over hopped into the ring. The other kids cheered, clearing off and gathering close around to watch, and Percy uncapped Riptide with a smile.

“I feel like your mom might have some complaints about this,” Matt commented, but he was already getting into position, and Percy grinned and matched him.

“She’s used to it,” Percy said, and moved.

Matt was a clever fighter, quick and strong, and did a good job using the cane to keep Riptide’s sharp edge well away from him. His guard wasn’t perfect, though, and Percy could tell he wasn’t really used to fighting melee weapons with a reach; he guessed that Matt was more used to knives, since those were more common in the mortal world.

Riptide had a lot more leverage than a knife, and finally Percy was able to slip it just through Matt’s guard, shove the cane out of the way, and step close enough to bring his sword to Matt’s chest. Matt froze, breathing hard, but he was grinning.

“Point to you, Percy,” Matt said, stepping back. “That was incredible.”

Percy grinned at him widely.

“Aren’t you glad you visited camp now?” he asked.

Chapter Text

The visit to the Long Island Aquarium was a blatant attempt to get into Percy’s good graces, but he couldn’t bring himself to care; it was the most he’d had to look forward to in months, and he was wriggling in place the entire time they were on the subway, bouncing on his toes.

Foggy watched him with clear amusement. “I’d’ve thought Sally took you to aquariums all the time,” he commented, leaning on the pole.

Percy shook his head. “When I was younger I think she was worried that I would notice something – or worse, someone else would notice something.” He smiled and bounced a little more. “And I didn’t think of it, I guess. I usually just go into the bay.”

Foggy winced. “I guess an aquarium just isn’t the same, huh?”

“No,” Percy said decisively, and then amended, “I mean, yeah? They’re just different. For one thing, I mostly go into the bay when a dolphin or something gets tangled up in a fishing net.” He scowled at the thought, but it faded quickly. “But like- aquariums are set up to teach you things, right? And that’s super cool. Uh, I went to one for a school trip,” he explained, when Foggy looked confused. “I know some stuff instinctively, but not everything, and...”

He cut himself off, embarrassed, but Foggy was still looking at him. Percy squirmed and rocked on his heels, abruptly aware of the confined space of the subway car. He reminded himself that they were only five stops away, and glanced compulsively each way, checking for monsters.

“I mean,” he said, a little quieter, “if I grow up, I think that’s what I’d want to do. Marine rescue.” He shrugged. “It’s pretty easy for animals to get hurt out there, with all the plastic and dropped fishnet and stuff. I could help with that.”

“Sounds like the perfect job for a kid like you,” Foggy told him firmly, eyes bright with his smile. “And hey.” He leaned down a little, so he was eye level with Percy. “You are gonna grow up, okay? I heard from Matt you kicked his ass the other day. That’s not easy to do, I’m pretty sure.”

He winked, and for the first time, Percy could kind of tell what his mom saw in Foggy. He smiled hesitantly back, quick and fleeting.

They got off a few stops later, and it wasn’t a far walk from there to the aquarium. Foggy kept his hands in his pockets, and Percy twirled Riptide in his hands, back to buzzing with excitement.

There was a large seal exhibit right by the main entrance, so a chorus of excited barking greeted their approach. Percy smiled and veered off the path toward the pool. He stepped right up to the edge, looking through the gap in the glass panes, and found most of them making their way toward him, flopping and splashing through the water or over the small rock shelf to crowd closer.

Son of the sea god, son of the sea god! a few of them chanted, like people whispering to each other about a passing celebrity.

“Holy shit,” Foggy said quietly. Percy beamed and leaned over, bracing himself against the glass pane.

“Hey, seals,” he greeted cheerfully. “Have everything you need in there?”

Yes, yes! a few barked, bouncing up toward him and a few even flopping against the wall before they fell.

Visitors, treats! one cheered, splashing eagerly in place.

Fish and pats! another agreed, slapping their tail against the water. Games!

But no little ones, one in the back put in, audibly disappointed. Too long since we’ve had a little one.

“A baby seal?” Percy asked, glancing across the crowd. Sure enough, all of them looked fully grown, and a good few even looked old. “You miss having babies around?”

Yes, son of the sea god!

“I’ll ask about it,” he promised them, ignoring the looks he was starting to attract.

“What’d they say?” Foggy asked, unable or not bothering to hide his fascination. Percy shrugged.

“Sounds like they’re being pretty well taken care of,” he said, pleased. “They’re not bored, they’re not hungry- biggest problem is just that they miss having kids around, apparently.” He glanced around. “I’m not sure the pool could support many more though. It’s pretty full as it is.”

“How do you know?” Foggy looked back and forth, like he could see what Percy did.

“Uh. Good question,” Percy said sheepishly.

He chatted with the seals for a few more minutes, but to be honest, there was only so much he could talk about with a crowd of excitable mammals that spent all day swimming in circles. Eventually, they moved on and went inside.

There was a touch tank just inside, and Percy beelined right for it, where the stingrays reacted almost exactly as the seals had. The touch tank was different, though, and there were a handful of kids with their hands in the sand, looking wide-eyed and excited for now, but he bet that wouldn’t last long.

He reached out to stroke and pet them as they floated near him, murmuring with excitement. He couldn’t help but smile, feeling warm and pleased.

“Come on, it’s good to see you too, but you have a job here, remember?” he cooed softly, nudging them back toward the other parts of the tank. “All those little kids are so excited to see you, don’t you want to meet them?”

A few of them immediately chorused in agreement and sailed back to the other parts of the tank, greeting and brushing against the overjoyed children with renewed enthusiasm, but a lot of them stayed too. He patted them indulgently and cooed nonsense, steering them back toward the kids when they seemed satisfied.

“Oh, that looks like it hurts,” Percy said to one of them, tilting it up a little to where he could see a scrape on the underside of its fin. “Do you want out of the touch tank? I’m sure the kids aren’t exactly careful.”

Yes, my lord, the ray said, flapping itself in faint agitation. Percy looked around, but it turned out Foggy had gotten there first, signaling a worker nearby who came over to investigate.

“Hey, this one has a scrape on its wing,” Percy said, tilting it up gently to show the guide. “Should it be in the touch tank?”

“No, it shouldn’t,” the guide said with certainty. “Thanks for pointing it out. Can you keep track of it for a minute? I’ll get one of the rehab guys to take it out.”

Percy nodded, so the woman took off at a purposeful stride.

“You know what, I’m starting to see why your mom didn’t take you to aquariums as a kid,” Foggy said to Percy, and Percy laughed.

“Thanks for calling her over,” Percy said, petting the ray patiently. “It’s probably better if they just keep the happy rays in here.”

“Unhappy rays are how people get stung, I think,” Foggy said, and Percy chuckled and nodded.

The guide returned with a lab tech in tow only a few minutes later, and the hurt ray was transferred to a small tank. It waved to Percy as it was carried away, and he waved back.

“So like, do fish suddenly gain human intelligence around you, or are they like that all the time?” Foggy asked. “Cause that’s a creepy thought, I gotta say.”

“Hell no,” Percy said before he could think better of it, patted a ray one last time, and got up to move along to the rest of the aquarium. “I don’t wanna be mean, but fish aren’t that smart, honestly. Like, most of what the seals were saying outside is kind of what you imagine a dog would say to talk about its life. ‘I get table scraps and long walks so I have everything I need!’ That’s about as much as they worry about.”

“Thank fuck,” Foggy said, seeming genuinely relieved, and Percy snickered again.

They kept moving through the aquarium, Percy greeting each animal in turn and cooing over it for a minute before moving along. Foggy didn’t seem that interested in any of the displays, but he kept pace with Percy, apparently content to hang around.

“Hey,” Foggy said, just as they were moving outside. He didn’t look at Percy, keeping the same easy stride, but something about his tone made Percy tense. “Am I doing something to freak you out? Sally tells me I’m still formally barred from the apartment.”

Percy hesitated, and then tilted his head to look up at Foggy, considering him seriously for a long moment. He clasped his hands behind his back, uncomfortable again.

“...No,” Percy admitted grudgingly. “I’m just- really, really touchy about our apartment, and uh, kind of too stressed out to handle that right now. Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry, I get it,” Foggy hastened to assure him. “Trust me, if you knew what Matt was like when we were in college, you’d be a lot less worried about scaring me off. Man had more walls than a citadel.”

Percy tried to smile, but now he was distracted. Foggy picked up on that pretty quick.

“Is this prophecy thing really that big a deal?” Foggy asked softly.

Percy slowed to a halt, coming to a full stop not far from the fountain. He stared at it blankly, wondering how his good mood could have disappeared so quickly.

“I still don’t know the whole thing, you know,” he said. “Just that the next Big Three kid will choose whether Olympus lives or dies.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “It was almost Thalia. I mean- she would’ve been sixteen in another day. But she didn’t want it. Took a vow to Artemis so that she would never turn sixteen.” He shrugged, expression crumpled. “A lot of the gods wanted to kill me so I wouldn’t either. Zeus, Ares, Athena, and Dionysus all argued for me to die last December.”

He's just a sea creature! A really nice sea creature!

Roughly, Percy shook himself and started walking again, hoping to find something to distract himself with.

“Did you tell Sally about this?” Foggy asked awkwardly, looking down at him.

“I don’t wanna scare her,” Percy mumbled.

“Okay, but you’re obviously terrified out of your wits,” Foggy pointed out. “You know she’d want to help. You’re her whole world, Percy.”

“...Yeah.”

Thank the gods, there was another interactive exhibit not far ahead – a set of stairs down to a marsh where you could wade in shin-deep water and look for shellfish. Percy rolled up his jeans, took off his shoes, and hopped right in, and to his surprise, Foggy joined him, the sleeves and pants of his suit both rolled up high. He shrugged when Percy looked at him.

“May as well,” he said, as if that made any sort of sense. They cut through the water for a while, only a few others scattered around the marsh, and Percy managed a smile as a few clams and whelks started to bounce and roll toward them. “Wow, I’ve never seen a clam move before. I hate it.”

Percy chuckled weakly, catching the clam and tilting it to peek inside. He didn’t speak this time, just patted it, and then held it out for Foggy to see. Foggy accepted it and looked at it, and then he spoke.

“You know, I didn’t remember the whole kidnapping thing when I first started dating your mom,” he said suddenly, wrinkling his nose when the mussel bobbed out and ‘licked’ him. “Karen recognized Sally’s name though. I watched the video of the fight you had with that guy after that. Could barely believe it.”

“What about it?” Percy asked, a little bemused. “I thought I did well in that fight.”

“You did,” Foggy agreed without looking up. “But all I could think about the whole time was that when I was twelve, I still spent most of my time, like, crying in bathrooms ‘cause kids were calling me chubby.”

Oh, Percy understood what he was getting at now. He shrugged, accepting the mussel when Foggy handed it back to him.

“Believe me, I was doing plenty of that too,” he said, with a hint of bitterness. Moron, stupid, brain boy, r- “It just wasn’t the only shit I had going on.”

“Guess some things never change,” Foggy said, and Percy nodded.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare caught up to Percy during one of his now-routine jogs around the park. Speeding up unfortunately did not work, nor did turning around several corners, and by the end of the whole song and dance she was mostly just annoyed.

Reluctantly, Percy paused the audiobook he’d been listening to – ugh, he’d have to skip back at least ten minutes to figure out what he’d missed – and popped out his earbuds, eying her warily. “Rachel Elizabeth Dare.”

“Percy,” Rachel said back, and walked right up to him until they were almost nose-to-nose. She looked pale and determined, almost glaring into his eyes. “You owe me an explanation.”

“Oh my gods, did you track me down across the states just to ask me about the skeletons?” Percy demanded.

“No,” Rachel said, “although I should have.” She crossed her arms. “Activism is my hobby, so I’m usually on the lookout for up-and-coming nonprofits. I was actually looking at that blue food stuff when I recognized your picture.”

Percy’s face may as well have been on fire. “Seriously?”

Rachel paused, and then grudgingly admitted, “Alright, maybe that was inappropriate. But.” She looked determined. “You’re the first person I’ve ever met that saw the same stuff I did. And you knew what it was, didn’t you? You can tell me about it?”

Most of Percy’s frustration fell away, and he remembered Karen’s near hysteria about the hellhound. He’d never really thought about what it was like to be on the outside looking in before.

“Yeah, I can tell you about it,” Percy admitted. “I mean, like- the basics. But my mom, she’s like you, so she’d probably be better for you to talk to. My experience is sort of, uh. Different.”

“Tell me the basics,” Rachel ordered him.

They went to grab ice cream first, and sat on a bench in the park while Percy tried to figure out how to explain it. It was a little easier than it might have been; they’d only recently done the same for Matt, Foggy, and Karen, after all.

“I figure you see monsters from Greek myths,” Percy said at last, without looking at Rachel. “Right?”

“...Yeah,” Rachel said, softer than he’d come to expect from her.

“They’re real,” Percy said. “All of them.” He turned his head and met her eyes, and it was pretty clear she wasn’t struggling with this part. She knew that; she was living that. “The way it was explained to me, the Greek world is a lot older than the Norse stuff, so the magic is a lot more powerful, and so are its gods. But the reason most people don’t know about it is ‘cause of this stuff called the Mist. It makes it so most people can’t see monsters or whatever, but there are some people that can see through it. Like you.”

“And your mom,” Rachel said. “So you can too?”

Percy shrugged. “I mean, better than most mortals can, but not as well as you or Mom, honestly. I don’t know if it’s even genetic.” He bought himself some time by licking at his ice cream, and belatedly, Rachel started on hers too, looking pensive. Finally, he said, “I’m kind of... more directly involved. My dad’s a god.”

Rachel stared at him, looked him up and down, and tightened her grip on her ice cream cone. “Is it weird that I can sort of believe that?” she asked, surprising Percy. “Was it... was that how your mom found out about this stuff?”

Percy shook his head. “I don’t know the whole story, but she said she found out like this.” He waved vaguely. “A demigod told her.”

“And how do demigods find out?” Rachel asked.

“Well, demigods smell like monster food,” Percy said dryly. “So, we find out or we get eaten. Usually both, I think.” He softened, reminding himself to try and explain better. “Uh. Most times, either their mortal parents know and take them to camp, and they learn there. Or their parents don’t know, or like, never tell them, and a satyr sniffs them out instead, and the satyr takes them to camp.”

“Great,” Rachel said. “Sounds like a really well-organized system.”

Percy smiled a little. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I got the explanation after I got chased to camp by the Minotaur. Which, let me tell you, was still a shock, but definitely not as much as it would’ve been before that.” Though there had been Grover and his furry pants too.

“I can definitely believe that,” Rachel said, but she was frowning now. “I don’t get what this has to do with the DV stuff though.”

It took Percy a moment to place the abbreviation, and then he scowled. “Does it have to?” he snapped. Rachel winced.

“I guess not. Sorry.”

Percy exhaled, focused very hard on his ice cream for a moment, and then said reluctantly, “Mom married Smelly Gabe because it helped hide me from monsters. She never loved him; I don’t think she even liked him. It was kind of a lose-lose situation.”

Rachel whistled, grimacing in sympathy. “How’s that for coercion?”

Percy managed a flash of a smile. “No kidding.” He shrugged. “It’s not as uncommon as you’d think. Athena likes to give surprise babies to career men, Aphrodite is shallow as often as not, Ares takes initiative and hits his own kids...” He scowled. “Sorry. There’s a lot to say when it comes to the gods and their kids.”

“Sounds like it,” Rachel said. “I guess I never thought about what it would be like to have a god as a parent.” She was quiet for a minute, staring thoughtfully at her ice cream. “Hey. Do you think your mom would mind if I helped out a bit? I know a thing or two about charity work.”

Chapter Text

It came together even better than Percy had hoped it would. Matt’s priest, Father Lantom, let them set up outside the church the same day they’d scheduled their Easter egg hunt, which gave them a lot of traffic from both the participants and passersby attracted by the commotion. Everything on every table was either blue or had blue frosting, and on one corner of every table, there was a small board explaining the nonprofit they were fundraising for.

Sally was coordinating everyone like she’d been born for it, and Foggy and Karen were working to bring over all of the baked goods; Sally and Percy had spent two whole days working on them, plus the contributions from a few others who’d signed on, many of them people Sally had befriended during other fundraisers.

The really surprising thing, at least for Percy, was that Grover showed up early to help out, setting up tables and signs to direct people toward the bake sale. He fell so naturally into the rhythm of it that Percy got halfway through explaining why Sally had picked the Urban Resource Institute before he realized that he’d never told Grover about the bake sale at all, let alone asked him to come.

Grover laughed. “Silena told me about it,” he said, holding the poster against the wall so Percy could tape it up. “And you’ve always been super supportive of my work in environmentalism and trying to find Pan and all, I figured the least I could do was come help you out with yours.”

Percy flushed. “I really do care about the environment,” he protested. “It’s important."

Grover gave Percy an affectionate look. “I know you do. But it’s not your cause, not like this is.” He nudged Percy. “That’s fine. We’ve all got that one thing that’s just a little more personal.”

Percy gave Grover an embarrassed smile, scratching the back of his head before he got back to work. A few more minutes passed quietly while they set up posters, and then Grover spoke again.

“I really didn’t know what that guy was doing to you,” he said without looking at Percy. “If I had, I would’ve- I dunno, said something. Tried to help. I was pretty good with feelings, for a kid. I could’ve figured something out and at least made you feel better.”

“I know,” Percy assured him. “I could, uh, kind of tell when I finally fessed up.”

A pained smile flickered across Grover’s face, and he was quiet for another minute. Finally, he laughed.

“I don’t know how to ask this,” he admitted, pulling away from the poster to go help arrange the baked goods on the tables. “Is this like, something you want your friends to keep in mind, or would you rather we forget about it?”

Percy flashed Grover a grateful smile. Grover was an amazing friend.

“More the first than the second,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head self-consciously, with heat rising to his cheeks. “I mean... it’s not my whole life or anything, but it’s there all the time. I, uh...” His flush deepened. “I don’t wanna get too into it if that’s all you wanted to know.”

Grover nudged him gently. “I’m listening.”

Percy smiled at him, affectionate and relieved.

“You don’t forget growing up like that,” Percy said, quiet enough that he didn’t think anyone would overhear. “I mean... it’s been almost two years, and I still think about Gabe way more than I want to. Every time I smell beer, or someone raises their voice, I’m eight years old again.” He shrugged, cheeks still hot. “I’m not broken, that’s not what I mean, but...” He clicked his tongue, frustrated, but Grover was still listening patiently. “I spook easy, and not in a fun way. That’s all.”

“I hear you,” Grover said, soft and reassuring. He gave Percy a grin. “You want people to listen when you say stop, right?”

Percy blinked. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “I- yeah. I get that it’s fun to mess with me, but sometimes it just... I don’t know, it hits wrong.” He hesitated, then added, “You’ve seen it. When I, uh, when I hide in my cabin or the lake.”

Grover winced. “Yeah, I know the mood.” He bumped Percy. “Maybe some of ‘em will take me seriously now when I say they’re going too far.”

Percy softened, giving him a small grin. “Yeah, maybe.” He tilted his head toward the church. “Do you think the gods would still get an offering if I burned it in a church fireplace?”

It took Grover a moment to adjust to the change in topic, but then he nodded. “Definitely. What for?”

Percy picked up a blue cookie, weighed it in his hand, and said, “It can’t hurt to catch Aphrodite’s attention for this. At least, I don’t think she’ll mind.”

Almost as soon as he’d tossed it into the fire, he knew he’d made a good call. For a few seconds, all he could smell was the blessed scent of the offering, and then a gentle optimism settled over the area. Percy knew without looking at Grover that it was the blessing of Aphrodite.

"Excuse me, child, but I hope you had permission for that.”

Percy started and looked up. An old man in white robes was moving toward them, a faintly bemused smile on his face.

“Mom won’t mind,” Percy said after a moment. “It’s a sacrifice for like, good luck. It’s a pagan thing. Um.” Percy looked at the white robes, then up at Jesus on the cross, and then smiled at Father Lantom sheepishly. “Sorry. I guess I should have asked.”

Father Lantom chuckled. “Worry not, I do not mind. The Lord sees your devotion even if it is not to him. And as it happens – you are Sally Jackson’s son, are you not? She must have anticipated this; she actually asked me if I would mind such practices when we made arrangements.”

“Cool,” Percy said, relieved. “Yeah, it’s a tribute to Aphrodite, this is kind of her business. Um, I can do one for God too if you want.”

Grover muffled a snort, and Father Lantom laughed outright. “I see you are as sweet a child as Matthew assured me. No, thank you, but I appreciate the sentiment immensely. I will offer my prayers for the success of your endeavors.”

With a nod, he turned away and left, presumably to go handle the Easter egg hunt.

“Would you have seriously burnt an offering for Yahweh?” Grover asked, amused.

“Is that his name?” Percy mused. “But yeah, I figure it can’t hurt. If he is around, I did kind of just burn an offering to a different god in his temple. That’s pretty rude. Can you imagine if I went into Apollo’s temple and burnt an offering to Hephaestus?”

“Point,” Grover chuckled. “Alright, let’s go sell some cookies.”

The second surprise came when nearly a dozen campers arrived, only about half an hour late, sauntering up the street like they did it every day. Grover grinned at Percy’s expression.

“Word got around fast,” Grover said, oddly smug. “Turns out the issue of shitty parents is pretty important to a lot of demigods. Who would have guessed?”

Grover’s teasing tone indicated that he’d definitely guessed.

“Hi, Mrs. Jackson,” Silena said brightly, smiling at Sally’s startled look. “Sorry we’re late, it took us a while to get going and then we got lost. Is there anything we can do to help?”

“I’m just looking for a fight,” Clarisse cut in, crossing her arms. “This many demigods in one place, I bet we’re gonna see some monsters, and I’m bored.”

“Thank you very much,” Sally said warmly, making Clarisse turn pink. “Would you mind partnering up with someone and taking some flyers with you? It can’t hurt to draw attention over here, if it’s not any trouble.”

“Uh, sure,” Clarisse mumbled. “Silena?”

“Of course,” Silena beamed, accepting the stack Sally gave her before they both returned down the road.

“Connor and I can do that too, if you want someone going the other way,” Travis offered, and grinned when Sally thanked him and handed over another small sheaf.

Sally spent the next few minutes assigning tasks: a couple children of Apollo promised to help keep the area clean, a son of Aphrodite agreed to talk to people idling nearby, two of Annabeth’s cabinmates were asked to keep track of inventory, and Annabeth herself joined Percy and Grover at one of the sales tables.

Percy thought Annabeth was going to complain about him not mentioning it, but she just elbowed him and smiled, and he elbowed her back, pleased.

“Is that Foggy?” she asked instead, nodding to Foggy, sitting with Sally re-reading a flyer to pass the time. Percy nodded.

“He’s not so bad,” Percy said. “It’s starting to seem like I really did just catch him at a bad time.”

“That would be just your luck, Seaweed Brain.”

Percy snorted, not disagreeing, and then paused as someone came up to the table. He pointed out the different baked goods first, and then explained the Urban Research Institute. They bought a half-dozen blue cookies, and Annabeth counted out the change and handed it back.

“Tell me what you’ve been up to,” Annabeth instructed him. “Chiron said the Avengers have been contacting you, and I want to hear about it.”

“Go on,” Steve said, nudging Thalia to go through first. “She’s excited to meet you.”

Thalia only hesitated for a second before going into the hospital room, and Steve gestured for Percy to go right after, which he did.

Peggy Carter was a really old woman, with beautiful silver hair and an age-lined face, and a clean, light blue blouse set with little frills and rhinestones. Without thinking, Thalia settled on one side of the bed, and Percy on the other, while Steve sat on a chair a few feet back. Percy couldn’t stop looking at the liver spots on Peggy’s hands. She was really old.

Peggy met Thalia’s eyes and smiled at her. “Oh, I’d know you for Zeus’ daughter in a heartbeat,” she said warmly, her voice steadier than Percy had expected. “For you, dear, I think it’s all in the eyes. But it looks to me like your true allegiance lies elsewhere." She glanced meaningfully at Thalia’s hair.

Thalia let out a surprisingly wet laugh.

“I’m Lady Artemis’ lieutenant, Mrs. Carter,” she said. “Name’s Thalia.”

“Thalia is a wonderful name,” Peggy said, seemingly with all sincerity. “And Artemis is a worthy recipient of your loyalty – in my youth I considered becoming a Huntress as well, though in the end I decided that such wandering was not for me.” She turned her head, making Percy start slightly. “And you, young one? Why, I could almost take you for Poseidon himself.”

A smile flashed across Percy’s face. “Percy Jackson. I’ve never seen an old demigod before.”

“Oh my gods, Percy,” Thalia complained, but Peggy chuckled.

“It’s not as rare as you might think,” she promised, reaching over to rest her hand on Percy’s. “As they grow into adulthood, most demigods tire of serving the gods and grow into ambitions of their own. They no longer spend summers at camp – why, I haven’t even visited in over a decade. But wherever they might be, I assure you that they are living dangerous and extraordinary lives.”

“Oh,” he said softly. “I guess that makes more sense. Are there a lot?”

“One dozen, two dozen,” Peggy mused. “It is difficult to say for certain – survival, of course, becomes more difficult to ascertain when they are no longer attending camp. Is it not enough to know that it is possible?”

Percy smiled. “Yeah. I’m gonna tell my mom. She’ll be really happy.”

“Was it hard to go from living at camp to being out of it all the time?” Thalia asked.

“Oh, certainly,” Peggy agreed readily. “It’s one thing to face monsters during a quest, and quite another to attempt to quietly deal with them during basic training-”

Peggy was more than happy to talk to both of them for more than an hour, talking about the days when she’d had a few siblings, and the daughter of Poseidon she had been close to. She told them funny stories about dealing with monsters while also holding a job, and the few demigod friends she’d had who had been with her until only a couple of decades previous. It was kind of amazing; Peggy was kind of amazing.

“My only regret,” Peggy said after a while, “is that I will not live to see the conclusion of the Great Prophecy.” She reached up to tuck some of Percy’s hair out of his eyes, and Percy surprised himself by not pulling away. “It’s going to fall to you, isn’t it?”

Percy’s throat tightened, and he nodded. Peggy smiled.

“I’m glad,” she said. “You remind me of Steve. He had the same look in his eye, even before he was given the serum.”

“I’m not good enough,” Percy blurted out, before he could think better of it. “You know that, right? I’m gonna mess something up.” He swallowed, one fist clenching in the blankets. “I mean, I’ll try. But...”

He fell silent as Peggy pried his hand off the covers with surprising strength, only to clasp his hand in hers, forcing it to unclench. “But nothing. Chiron has told me about you, you know. He’s so terribly proud of you already.” She paused. “Thalia. Do you have something to say?”

Thalia jumped, looking guilty, and then cast Percy a fleeting glance.

“I didn’t realize it was going to bother you so much,” she mumbled, crossing her arms. “I... sorry. I just, really needed that off my shoulders.”

“It’s okay,” Percy said without hesitation, heavy but certain. “I get it.”

“Thalia?” Peggy prompted softly, looking expectantly at her younger sister. Thalia looked away.

“I joined the Hunters to keep myself from ever turning sixteen,” she confessed tightly, looking both defensive and unhappy. “It- that was probably the cowardly thing to do, wasn’t it?” She gave Peggy an intense, heartbreakingly desperate look. “But I knew I couldn’t do it. I was gonna break. I couldn’t let it be me.”

“Hestia likes to say,” Peggy said, reaching up to squeeze Thalia’s hand, “that it takes more strength to yield than to fight. It was wise of you to commit to your path.” Thalia relaxed, looking comforted, and Peggy turned her gaze on Percy. “Chiron visits me, you know, every few months. He’s spoken about you, and he has been nothing but proud. He has faith in your strength.”

A lump grew in Percy’s throat, but it was a good one, for once. Chiron had told Percy that he was proud of him before, but he never would have thought Chiron liked him enough to talk about him to others. To someone like Peggy Carter.

Peggy flicked him on the nose, and he went briefly cross-eyed watching before grinning sheepishly at her. She smiled back.

“So you’d best find some faith in yourself soon, boy,” she teased. “You wouldn’t question Chiron’s judgement, would you?”

Percy decided he loved Peggy Carter.

At the end of an hour and a half, Peggy was clearly wearing out, nearly falling asleep even as she spoke, and they quietly said their goodbyes and took their leave.

“Thanks for taking the time to visit,” Steve said to them, while they were leaving. He was smiling, though not without a hint of pain. “I think that was the best day she’s had in a while.”

“She’s amazing,” Thalia said quietly, most of her mind clearly still back in the hospital room. “I can’t believe I got to meet her.”

“She always has been,” Steve said warmly.

“Hey, it’s late,” Percy said into the phone, leaning against the counter with a frown. It was rare for the Jacksons to get a call, and weirder for them to get one at four in the morning. If Percy hadn’t already been awake avoiding nightmares, he wasn’t even sure he or Sally would have woken up for it.

“Percy, thank God,” Foggy said, sounding out-of-breath and stressed out of his mind. “Demigod food would heal Matt, right? Even if he’s badly hurt?”

Percy’s dozing mind woke up instantly. “Yeah, I can grab some, where are you? How bad is it?”

“Not great. I mean, he’s not in danger or anything, but he can’t hear and he’s freaking out. Some healing magic would be really, really good right now.”

“I’m on my way, what’s the address?”

Foggy gave him the address and Percy scribbled it down, scowling at his shitty handwriting, then ripped the page out of the notebook. Sally knew not to worry if she woke up and Percy was gone, so he didn’t leave a note – Foggy could call her again at a more reasonable hour. Instead, he grabbed the flask of nectar out of the medicine cabinet and headed out the door, hailed a cab, and gave the driver the address.

He was there inside of twenty minutes, and he tapped the doorbell to the apartment number he’d been given. One of them buzzed him up without checking in, and he darted inside and up the stairs. The door was unlocked.

“Foggy?” Percy called out, nudging the door shut behind him. He found the three adults in the living room before any of them called back, Foggy with one hand on Matt’s back, rubbing it as if to calm him while Matt jerked and looked around wildly as if to dispel the darkness. The woman looked up and frowned at Percy.

“Foggy says you’ve got healing magic,” was all she said, beckoning him over. “We could use some of that right about now.”

“Yeah, I heard,” he agreed, distracted as he moved toward them. Matt was wearing a skintight black undershirt, and as Percy followed the lines of his body, he found that he’d been only half-stripped of whatever he’d been wearing over it. It wasn’t until Percy saw the helmet that he realized what it was. “Oh, shit.”

Daredevil. Matt was Daredevil. That explained... so much, actually. The mystery bruises, the fighting skill, his odd cocky confidence in combat. Percy wondered vaguely who his godly parent was. Was there a god of vigilante superheroes?

Foggy winced. “Matt’s gonna kill me,” he muttered.

“Yeah, well, he can kill you once he stops bleeding from his ears,” Percy said, shaking himself out of his trance to sit carefully beside Matt. Matt jumped a mile, whipping around, and Foggy grabbed his hand and squeezed it. It reminded Percy a little of himself and Grover.

Percy grabbed the flask from under his arm and unscrewed the cap.

“I thought you were bringing that blondie thing,” Foggy said anxiously. Percy shrugged.

“I mean, I could’ve,” he agreed, holding the flask up near Matt’s face, close enough for him to smell. Like if windchimes had a scent, he’d said. “But this is nectar, the liquid form. It’s easier when you’re really out of it.”

Matt hesitated, then grabbed the container, tipped it back and forth for a second, and then placed it unerringly to his mouth and drank. Percy hissed and grabbed the end, tugging it down so it wasn’t pouring so fast into Matt’s mouth.

“What’s wrong?” Foggy asked. Percy could hear the tightness in his voice that usually came with panicked snapping, which meant that Foggy was probably softening it for his sake. Percy’s shoulders loosened.

“Matt’s the son of a minor goddess,” he explained, letting it go when it became clear Matt wasn’t resisting. “I don’t know how much nectar he can safely drink. And even I wouldn’t drink it that fast.”

“But he can still drink enough to heal?” Foggy asked anxiously.

Percy smiled, watching Matt relax all at once. “Ask him.”

Foggy jumped and turned toward him. “Matt? Can you hear me, buddy?”

Matt set the flask on his lap, reached up, and rubbed his head with a soft groan. “Foggy,” he mumbled, “did you just out me to your girlfriend’s son because I got a booboo?”

“You were panicking,” Foggy said defensively, and Matt softened.

“I don’t understand anything that’s going on,” the woman announced. “Who is this? Why are we discussing gods? Since when is Matt the son of a god?”

Percy turned a questioning look on Foggy, who winced.

“Percy, this is Claire,” Foggy introduced, sitting back now that the crisis seemed over. “She patches Matt up after his... vigilante stuff. Claire, this is Percy, he’s the living proof that my current girlfriend is way out of my league.”

Percy snorted, then started laughing, weight he hadn’t noticed falling away as he snickered. “That’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said,” he chortled, and then, to Claire, “Hi, I’m a demigod – Foggy’s dating my mom. I’m not involved with the Daredevil stuff though, I’m only here because I keep ambrosia and nectar on hand.”

Claire sighed. “You know what? That tallies with everything else that’s happened in the last few years.” She looked at Matt. “Matt, can I trust you to tell me if you’re injured anywhere else?”

“Ah... the gash on my leg is still bad enough to need stitches, and I don’t want to take up any more of this.” He lifted the flask. “I’ve heard Percy use it more often than I’m comfortable with.”

The nice thing to do would be insist Matt take as much as he needed, but honestly, Percy was a little relieved. The monsters were only getting more tenacious with every year that passed; he needed all the help he could get. “I’ll make sure to get you some of your own the next time I’m at camp. What’s wrong?”

Matt was tense, even if he was pretending not to be. “What are you going to do now that you know?” He indicated the piled-up Daredevil suit.

Percy blinked at him, confused. “Uh, am I supposed to do something?”

Sure, it was a little weird that Matt was Daredevil. Percy had never been friends with a vigilante before. On the other hand, it wasn’t like he and his friends didn’t already spend a ton of time fighting their own enemies on the sly.

Also? Not his problem.

“...I kind of assumed you would do something,” Matt admitted. Percy shrugged.

“It’s your business,” he said. “No offense, Matt, but I’ve got way bigger things to worry about than the fact that you’re running around in costume beating up muggers. I saw you at camp, you can fight just fine.”

Matt laughed, loosening up. He looked oddly relieved. “Yeah, I suppose you do.”

“I don’t want to know,” Claire announced, leaning over to tug Matt’s suit the rest of the way off and start working on his leg. Matt hissed. “So, Matt is the son of a god? Which one?”

“Don’t know, probably won’t find out,” Percy said. “Gods aren’t great at claiming their kids.”

“Are there a lot of demigods out there?” Claire asked without looking up, frowning. “I thought they’d have come out, you know, with everything else.”

“There’s a few dozen of us, we just kinda keep to ourselves,” Percy explained. Claire made a face. “I know, right? I think god seed is immune to birth control.”

“If I sleep with a goddess, I’m using a condom,” Foggy said instantly, looking green. Percy scowled at him, but it was almost playful this time.

“You better be talking about my mom,” he said pointedly.

“...I’m not sure there’s a correct response to that,” Foggy admitted, and Percy laughed.

“So demigods didn’t come out because they clean up their own messes?” Claire asked.

Percy snorted, scornful and harsh. “Ha. Gods make messes, and demigods clean them up.” Thunder rolled and cracked violently. “I’m not taking it back.”

“Are they listening?” Claire asked, actually pausing to glance up with alarm. Percy grunted.

“I think they only notice key words,” he said. “You only get the fun color commentary if you’re blatantly disrespectful.” He jerked his thumb at the window. “Anyway, yeah. The Greek world’s had a few near misses the last couple of years, but we took care of it before they got big enough for mortals to notice.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?” Claire asked Matt. Matt shrugged sheepishly.

“I didn’t know until this one came along,” he said, nodding at Percy. “The celestial bronze cane works perfectly, by the way. I owe Beckendorf for this.”

There was genuine gratitude under the faux-casual lightness, and Percy smiled. Apparently he was forgiven for barging in and finding out Matt’s secret identity.

“He accepts thank-yous in the form of canned Coke,” Percy informed him.

Chapter Text

Percy put his head in his arms and stared sullenly at the television. “I don’t even understand what an Accords is,” he whined into his arm, too frustrated to check himself.

“I had to take a couple classes in international law,” Foggy said, arm slung around Sally’s shoulders, staring at the news reel with clear worry written all over his face. “I could probably explain it to you if you want.”

“Please,” Sally said before Percy could, reaching over to mute the television.

“So, uh, a treaty is any legally binding agreement between multiple nations,” Foggy said, leaning heavily on Sally as he wrinkled his forehead in concentration. “But it can be called a bunch of things, mostly depending on how formal it is, and one of those things is an accords.”

“So an accord is a type of treaty,” Sally translated, to Percy’s relief. Foggy smiled sheepishly.

“Yeah, sorry, I might be getting a little technical,” he said. “I blame Matt. Anyway, yeah. An accords specifically is basically just – every country that wants to, in this case one hundred and seventeen countries, signs an agreement to all follow the same set of rules. If you remember the Paris Agreement, that was an accords signed this year to combat climate change. Same type of treaty. Both of you with me?”

“More or less,” Sally agreed, visibly mulling it over, and Percy put his cheek on his arm. He was pretty sure he was too stupid to understand this.

“No,” he mumbled. Foggy gestured, and Percy hesitated, kicked at nothing, and then said tentatively, “Um, but no one agreed to do anything. I mean, not as a country anyway. They’re making the Avengers do stuff.”

Foggy snapped his fingers in understanding, giving Percy a grin that made him relax before he realized it. “Ah, I get why you’re confused. It’s not exclusively an Avengers rule, they’re just the main people of interest right now – I haven’t gotten to look at the whole thing, it’s not been officially released, but the Accords themselves deal with basically everything that’s been cropping up over the last couple of years. Metahumans, artificial intelligence, aliens, all of that stuff. It’s been a long time coming, honestly.”

Sally pursed her lips in silent disapproval, and Percy pushed himself bolt upright, eyes wide with panic. “But what about camp?” he blurted out. “I mean, if no one is allowed to, and we can’t, and Kronos-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Foggy said, sliding off the couch to sit level with Percy, just a little closer. “You’re fine, okay, I promise. American citizens on American soil. No one’s getting in trouble for slashing monsters with swords.” He waited for Percy to take a breath and nod, and then continued, “As an agreement, the Accords is basically a promise to persecute a metahuman acting on international soil the same as you would, say, someone with a bomb. Because we can’t have people with the ability to blow up buildings wandering around blowing up buildings in other countries no matter how they do it.”

“Isn’t that like... already a rule?” Percy asked warily. Foggy waved a hand and shrugged.

“Uh, kinda? Some domestic laws got rushed into place once it became an issue. But it’s a bigger deal, diplomatically, if an American citizen blows up a Nigerian city than if an American citizen blows up an American city. They’re both bad, but only the first one is grounds for war.”

“Oh,” Percy said quietly. He tried to wrap his brain around all of that. It was kind of a lot.

“It hasn’t seemed like that so far,” Sally said, face lined with exhaustion she didn’t deserve – all because of Percy, obviously. “It sounds like they’re trying to forbid the Avengers from acting without permission at all.”

Foggy made a wiggling motion with one hand, frowning. “Yeah, but realistically, Americans acting on American soil is a domestic issue, so the UN just plain isn’t going to get involved. No one declares war because someone blew up their own city and didn’t do anything about it. So it should only come into play if it starts affecting other countries, like, you know, like Ultron.”

“And the review board?” Sally asked.

“For multinational disasters, I guess,” Foggy said, brow furrowed in concentration. “I mean, what happened to Sokovia is a tragedy, but the Avengers definitely needed to be there, or else the Earth would be a floating cloud of rubble. But you also wouldn’t send a fleet of American tanks into a country and expect them not to get upset about it, even if you say they’re owned privately and not by the government.”

“Ughh,” Percy groaned, covering his face. “This is giving me a headache.”

“Yeah, that was pretty much how I felt all through law school,” Foggy said, amused. Surprised, Percy smiled against his arm, and Foggy continued, “Anyway, as long as whatever you’re doing doesn’t put the rest of the world at risk, you should be good to go.”

Percy’s smile disappeared.

“Great,” Percy muttered, wishing he could sink right into the ground until he fell into the Underworld. “Now it’s a crime for me to be alive in the mortal world too.”

“Um,” Foggy said, looking guilty, which meant that Percy was right.

Then the UN blew up.

“Cap.” Tony grasped Steve’s forearm before he could walk away, and while Steve’s lips pressed tightly together, he didn’t break the grip. He just looked at Tony, eyes hard. “I’m sorry, okay? I know this sucks, I know you’re worried your hands are gonna be tied when you need them most, I know ‘give up’ isn’t anywhere in your vocabulary- but Cap, we need you here. You know what’s coming. You know how long we have. We need you here, not on the run thousands of miles from the fight.”

“A hell of a lot of good I’ll do near the fight if I have to wait for permission to get involved,” Steve said sharply.

“Olympus is in New York,” Tony said desperately, tightening his grip as if he had a chance in hell of keeping Steve here if he wanted to walk away. “Every path out of the Underworld, out of Tartarus, is in America. Camp Half-Blood is there, Typhon is there, Atlas, the gods aren’t US citizens and I think would technically be considered aliens too- legally, it’s domestic, Cap, the UN won’t get involved. Carte blanche.”

“If it means so much to you,” Steve hissed back, “then stop this.”

“I know I’m richer than Hades, but I don’t actually have the power to overrule 117 countries,” Tony snapped. “We don’t have to agree on whether the Accords are right, okay? I just need you to sign that piece of paper that says you acknowledge they exist.” Quieter, “Please, Steve. You know who’ll take the fall if we can’t do it first.”

Steve met Tony’s eyes. “Swear on the Styx.”

“Swear what?” Tony asked, not breaking eye contact.

“Swear that when it comes down to the wire, you’re not going to choose the Accords,” Steve said. “You’re going to save the world.”

“I swear on the river Styx,” Tony said without hesitation.

Thunder rumbled. Steve pulled away, and Tony let him.

Steve picked up the pen, leaned down, and signed the Accords.

“Thank you,” Tony said, with more relief than he’d thought possible. He dropped back in his seat, rubbing his face as the ache of exhaustion hit him. Everything was going to be fine, he just had to do some quick work with the legals to get everyone out of this, and then they’d be... back to normal.

Steve was already heading back to the office he’d been confined to, where Sam was leaning back, looking frustrated, and Sharon was just heading toward them. On the monitors, the UN psychological evaluator was introducing himself to Barnes.

Everything was going to be fine.

One of the security men jumped sharply. “Where the hell did she come from?” he demanded, and Tony looked up, searching the monitors until his spine straightened in alarm.

“Lady Demeter,” Tony murmured, trying to puzzle out her reason for coming all the way to Berlin. But an acute, painful sort of hope was dawning on Steve’s face. “Rogers?”

“Bucky is a son of Persephone,” he said quietly. Outside the cell, the security people were getting more and more upset as Demeter strode carelessly through the building without stopping; the people who tried to approach her couldn’t even get close.

“Not the first one I would have picked,” Tony said without thinking, earning a dirty look from Steve. Tony raised his hands apologetically. “I’m gonna- uh, we should head down before someone gets vaporized.” Not a chance in hell Steve was gonna stay back for this.

“Oh, hell, I forgot that the gods were like that,” Sharon said.

“Yeah, good for you,” Tony said dryly, and took off.

They managed to catch up with her about halfway to Bucky’s cell, around the same time a bunch of security people did; Sharon put herself to work herding them back, and Tony and Steve both hastily knelt, just enough in Demeter’s way that she had to acknowledge them.

“Lady Demeter,” Tony murmured, echoed by Steve.

Demeter slowed to a halt, crossing her arms to give them a faintly annoyed look. The dried grasses in her dark hair fluttered slightly in the air conditioning.

“Nephew,” she greeted curtly, not acknowledging Steve’s presence at all. “I’ve no time to dally; my daughter promised she’d let me feed her as long as I liked if I took care of... this... little issue for her.”

Right on time, Everett Ross came pushing through the crowd, brushing Sharon off entirely before marching brashly up to Demeter – though, Tony noticed, he stopped more than a comfortable distance away. Instinct, probably.

“I don’t know how you got in here, but you can’t be here,” Ross said sternly. Sharon winced. “This is a highly restricted UN... facility...”

That, Tony gathered, was about when he noticed that Tony and Steve were kneeling, and that Sam and Natasha, newly arrived, were moving to do the same. Everett’s eyes flickered back to Demeter, suddenly much more wary, and then, slowly, knelt down as well without finishing his sentence.

Everett Ross was quicker on the uptake than his father was, Tony gathered.

Demeter scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“The United Nations,” she said disdainfully. “Please, as if you have any more power now than you did a hundred years ago.” She transferred her gaze back to Tony. “What do you want? As I said, I have business.”

“Lady Demeter,” Tony said carefully, ignoring Everett’s quiet gasp, the security guards slowly easing back as if in subconscious fear. “Can I make a request? Our legal situation is... pretty tenuous right now, and it’ll be easier to resolve if you leave Barnes here. Please. And don’t vaporize anybody on your way out.”

“Tch.” Demeter glanced around the room, visibly unimpressed by the glass walls and tech around her. “This is no place for any grandson of mine. It looks more like one of Hephaestus’ awful little hellholes. Perhaps...”

She snapped her fingers. Parts of the walls and floor cracked open as roots and stems grew into the building, and soon the sterile office environment was blooming with English ivy, blackberries, and sunflowers. Everett glanced around wildly, like they would dematerialize if he looked at enough of them.

“It’ll do,” she said dismissively. She looked back at Tony. “Where is James being kept? I have a gift for him before I go.”

“I’ll take you there, my lady,” Steve said quickly, before Tony could. He was already rising to his feet, and Demeter glanced at him.

“Fine,” she said, and caught up with Steve to head for the room where an oblivious psychologist was still gently speaking to Barnes.

Seeing Everett rising to his feet, looking uneasy, Tony dropped back.

“Don’t ask questions yet,” he said quietly, before Everett could open his mouth. “Greek gods are... pretty temperamental, and don’t have a lot of patience. We’ll talk later, okay? Okay.”

Everett’s face contorted in indignation, but he kept his mouth shut. Tony breathed a sigh of relief, and moved to catch up with Demeter and Steve.

Everything could be fixed, Tony reminded himself. Things were getting more complicated by the moment, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

They reached Barnes’ cell, and Everett’s breath hitched as Demeter snapped her fingers again, forcing the door to slam open ahead of them. The psychologist inside was cut off mid-sentence, looking up in alarm, and Demeter ignored him to focus on the containment unit in the middle. She sneered.

“Mortals are so uncivilized,” she said with disdain, and snapped. The door to the cell popped open, and so did all of Bucky’s restraints. Bucky blinked at her, then lifted his hands and flexed them, staring at the fingers like they were a dream. “The only half-blood son of spring’s bounty, and this is how they treat him? Such appalling savagery.”

Everett jerked when the restraints popped open. Tony silently credited him for his self-control.

“Lady Demeter, he’s been brainwashed,” Steve said quickly, afraid she would cut him off. “Is there anything you can-”

“Yes, yes,” she said impatiently, and reached into the folds of her dress. The security folk coming up behind Tony stirred, but all she withdrew was a small bread roll, studded with seeds. She held it out, and blinking owlishly, Bucky accepted and stared at it. “Eat it. It’s a specialty of Hestia and myself. It should heal the damage done to your mind.”

Bucky looked up at her, stared for a moment, and then devoured the bread roll with desperation that was frankly sad. Demeter nodded, then looked at the psychologist.

“Your services are no longer necessary,” she said curtly. “Shoo.”

That wasn’t quite the end of it – the psychologist turned out to be an infiltrator, the power popped off and Demeter irritably turned it back on, and Bucky needed to be recontained in a friendlier, Demeter-approved cell full of flowers and blackberries – but it was close enough.

Then Demeter left, leaving them holding the big, icky, Greek-myth-shaped ball. Typical.

“Where’s Clint when you need him?” Tony complained, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to decide on an approach that would work for the situation. “It’s a time-honored tradition for demigods to explain this shit to mortals.”

“You’re three-eighths divine, Tony,” Natasha deadpanned. “It’s really not that much of a difference.”

“Can I quote you on that?”

“Focus, Tony,” Steve said, exasperated, and for a moment it was like they were back at the tower. Tony grinned, stretched, and turned back to Everett Ross and the small swarm of other UN parties that had shown up – including King T’Challa, eyes narrowed and lips pursed as he considered them with calculation, and the German representative, Elias Wagner.

“So,” Tony said, “I’d apologize for Lady Demeter, but honestly that was pretty accommodating for her. She’s in a good mood because her daughter just got back, I think.”

“You were certainly quick enough to defer to her,” T’Challa pointed out, lacing his fingers together. “Who was she precisely? I am afraid I have very little background in Ancient Greek religion.”

“Demeter, goddess of the harvest,” Tony explained. “Hence the...” He waved vaguely at all of the plants, which had probably caused thousands of dollars in structural damage. “The Greek gods are a lot more- aloof than their Norse cousins. Standoffish, you know. They’re quick to take offense and they can, in fact, kill you with a snap of their fingers. Best to treat them with caution.” He shrugged. “Try not to worry about them too much. The odds are good that you’ll never meet one again. Even their children see the gods only rarely.”

“We’re just supposed to go back to normal, knowing that actual gods exist?” Everett demanded incredulously. Rhodey snorted.

“You did last time, didn’t you?” he countered, amused. “Really, seriously, the gods have nothing to do with you, they hang out in their domains and do their jobs and have a bunch of kids. If you gotta worry about something, worry about demigods, because those are the ones you’ll actually run into.”

“I suppose demigods would fall into the general category of human-plus,” Everett frowned, looking actually focused on the conversation. “Is that right?”

“More or less,” Steve confirmed. “It varies by parentage, but demigods run the gamut from well-trained humans to Thor’s level of power, leaning toward the former.”

“And why do we need to worry about them?” Elias prompted, eyes narrowed. “Where would one encounter a demigod?”

Tony waved a hand. “Wherever. More likely than not, you’ll find them fighting or avoiding monsters, since demigods spend most of their lives trying not to get eaten. Otherwise, they’ll be going to school, work, shopping at the grocery store...”

“They’re more likely than not to be in America these days,” Steve added. “Olympus and Camp Half-Blood, where demigods get trained, move with the heart of western civilization. In my day they moved between America and Britain at least once a week, but I understand they’ve settled now.”

“And Barnes is a demigod,” T’Challa said, eyes gleaming with a hunter’s glint. “Or perhaps the child of one. Demeter called him her grandson.”

“A child of Persephone,” Steve agreed. “He’s never had more power than it takes to make a rosebush bloom, but he loved Camp Half-Blood.” He shot a worried look down the hall. “I wonder if he even remembers that now...”

“If we’re lucky, it’s all uphill from here,” Tony said. “We already know Demeter’s blessing reversed the brainwashing HYDRA put him through. Maybe his memory will start to recover too.” He glanced at the others. “I’ll be covering his legal fees, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Everett echoed dryly, and leaned back. “Are there any more demigods we’re likely to have heard of?”

“Peggy Carter is... was a daughter of Zeus,” Steve offered, voice softening with melancholy. “Hawkeye is a son of Apollo. Maria Stark was a daughter of Athena, and Howard Stark was a grandson of Hephaestus.”

“Three-eighths divine,” T’Challa recalled, glancing at Tony. Tony smirked and nodded.

“And if you were following the coverage a couple years ago, Percy Jackson was actually a demigod on a really messy quest,” he put in, mostly toward Everett. “The final story in mortal media was that he and his friends got kidnapped and taken cross-country, but the real situation was a lot more complicated. That sort of thing’s where you’re most likely to see a demigod.”

“Speaking of Percy,” Natasha cut in, glancing up from her phone, “can one of you boys tell him that human governments don’t execute people for being born? Sally says he’s been in a funk since Foggy explained the Accords to him, and that was days ago now.”

Steve gave Tony a look. Tony raised his hands defensively.

“I didn’t write them!” he said irritably. “I’ll talk to the kid. It might be comforting to walk him through some of the basic human rights accords mortal governments follow. Refreshing change from the gods.”

“Excuse me, why would the Accords care about a child?” Elias asked, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You speak as if his concern is legitimate.”

“It kind of is,” Tony admitted. “The situation’s complicated, but his sixteenth birthday is going to hail a major threat to Olympus, which means a major threat for western civilization. Prophecies, you know. That’s technically going to fall under the category of multinational threat, but.” He shot them a sharp look. “Humans don’t execute people for being born, right?”

“Exceptions can be made,” Everett said, without meeting his eyes. Tony pressed a hand down on the table and leaned over.

“Percy is fourteen years old,” he said. “He likes blue candy when he’s upset, because it reminds him of his mom. He named a mythological cow serpent Bessie while he was untangling it from a fish net. He has ADHD and dyslexia so severe that he takes all of his exams orally. His middle school exams, because he’s in eighth grade. I can keep going if you need me to pile on the guilt.”

Everett, who hadn’t looked thrilled by the prospect in the first place, now looked a little sick. Good.

“This was the fight you mentioned to Mr. Rogers,” T’Challa said, meeting Tony’s eyes. Tony nodded.

“It’s becoming pretty clear that the threat is gonna be Kronos,” Tony said. “He’s already building up his army. We’re gonna need all hands on deck for that. Percy turns sixteen the August after next, but the actual fight will probably begin before that.”

“It is good that we have advance warning, then,” T’Challa said evenly.

“Bucky,” Chiron murmured, his old eyes soft as he reached out to squeeze Bucky’s arm. “It’s rare that I get to see a student again after so much time has passed. It is a privilege to see that you yet live.”

Bucky hesitated, not quite meeting Chiron’s eyes. “I...” His voice still rasped from disuse.

“Bucky doesn’t remember much, Chiron,” Steve cut in, stepping forward apologetically. “He’s still readjusting after his... his ordeal.”

Chiron nodded solemnly. “Of course. Still, for a half-blood, it is an indescribable triumph just to survive another year.” He smiled at Bucky, small and understanding. “No matter what else has happened, you are still alive, and I am happier for it.”

He turned his head to look at the rest of them, a good few heads higher than most of the visitors. Percy, shorter than any of them, fidgeted with Riptide while Chiron contemplated his deep thoughts before letting them inside. Meanwhile, the year-round half-bloods stared with varying amounts of confusion and wariness; it was hard to be starstruck once you had met the gods, but equally hard to overlook the crowd of Avengers in the middle of camp.

“Let us go inside,” Chiron said at last, turning with a fluid grace unsuited to his awkward shape. “Annabeth and Mr. D are waiting.”

“I told you he doesn’t love me anymore,” Clint informed Tony, elbowing him while Tony rolled his eyes. Clint grinned. “I figure he knows he’s not getting rid of me. I gotta come back and bully the kids.”

“With the barrier in place, none of the half-bloods that leave visit quite as often as they used to,” Chiron said, a melancholy tint to his voice making both Tony and Clint look up at him. “It is both a boon and a disappointment. We are blessed that our camp is safe enough that no one need return to help guard the children, but I do miss seeing them return safely.”

Tony and Clint exchanged a look.

“Yeah, okay, I’m overdue a visit,” Tony mumbled. Chiron looked over his shoulder to give Tony a soft smile, and Tony brightened like a child receiving praise.

Percy dropped to the back of the group out of habit, and then brightened when he saw Annabeth sitting at the table, legs pulled up and a book sitting on her knees. Without hesitation, he went to sit beside her, and she closed the book immediately to give him an exasperated look.

“What have you been getting up to since I last saw you?” she demanded under her breath, smacking him with her book.

He gave her a sheepish grin. “Uh, stuff?”

She shook her head, looking fond despite herself. “Whatever. You can tell me later.”

It looked like a much more informal gathering than it was. Tony had sprawled in his chair like a teenager, and Clint had moved his so he could sit backward. Steve had placed himself well away from both Chiron and Mr. D, looking uncomfortable, and was the only one sitting beside Bucky. Mr. D was playing on a handheld console. Pac-Man, from the sound of it.

“So,” Tony said, leaning back in his chair. “Thanks to that stunt Demeter pulled in Germany, the cat’s halfway out of the bag, and there’s no putting it back. Half a dozen international diplomats and closer to two dozen high-ranking American officials know that a Greek goddess waltzed through the embassy’s security and freed the Winter Soldier with a snap of her fingers. It won’t be long before everyone who’s anyone knows what’s what.”

“Good job, Stark,” Clint deadpanned. Tony scowled at him.

“Excuse me, how is this my fault?”

“Those damn Accords-”

“Which were not my idea!”

“You supported them!”

“Children,” Chiron said sharply, and they both fell silent. He exhaled, lowering his head to frown in thought. “It has been so long since the divine world has interacted openly with its mortal counterpart. Perhaps it is Fate that we should come around to that openness once again.”

“So we’re just gonna let it happen?” Clint asked. “It’s like you said. Demigods have been keeping this secret for centuries now. The Mist can probably fix it, and we’ll be back to normal. No problem.”

“Most likely,” Chiron acknowledged. “Damage control is still well within our reach at this stage. But I believe our two youngest have some input on the matter.”

Everyone looked at Percy and Annabeth, and Percy flinched. Annabeth held their gazes calmly.

“I think we should do it,” she said, grey eyes sharp and calculating. “Let the Mist die. It’s an old system.” She softened a little, glancing over to Chiron. “I’ll admit, it made sense when the world seemed ordinary. If we demigods were the first metahumans to make ourselves known, it would have gone badly. We would have scared them. But now there’s aliens, mutants, super soldiers, even other gods- we’ll just be part of the crowd. And it’ll mean we can ask for help.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, unexpectedly soft. Annabeth crossed her arms, defensive and uncomfortable.

“The Mist keeps us isolated,” she said plainly. “Our secrecy keeps us isolated. We can’t ask mortals for help or even understanding when a monster destroys our homework because no one knows about the monsters. We can’t find half-bloods in time because most people don’t know what to look for, won’t even know what their child is until it’s too late.” She shrugged. “I think there’s room for growth here. If we bring our world into the open, then we won’t have to waste so much time hiding.”

“What do you think, Percy?” Chiron asked. Percy started.

“Me?” he said, surprised. “Uh, I think it’s a good idea, I guess. I mean, do you know how many times I’ve gotten expelled ‘cause of the Mist? It really sucks to get in trouble for attacking a teacher when the teacher attacked you first. Quests, too. If we could’ve just walked in and told Nico and Bianca’s teachers that they were half-bloods...” He shrugged, ducking his head to hide his expression. “I mean, we’d have new problems if we came out and told the truth. But it would solve a lot too.”

“They both make good points,” Tony said. “If we negotiate it right, we might even be able to stack the deck in our favor. People are starting to complain about the treatment of metahumans, especially after the Accords, and we might be able to convince them to use Camp Half-Blood to drum up some good PR.”

“I don’t see how this helps us,” Clint said, audibly disgusted. “I don’t want Camp Half-Blood being used for anything. I’m surprised you do, Stark.”

Tony waved a hand dismissively. “The wording isn’t important. The important thing is that, if we can convince officials that protecting half-bloods would look good for them, then we might be able to get them to do it.” He shrugged. “Demigods are practically tailor-made for the purpose, honestly – almost all children, about eighty percent of them have no obvious powers, and it mostly just puts them in danger.”

“It seems like a bit of a gamble, though,” Clint countered. “Look at the garbage they just passed; they could just as easily decide to screw us over again. And we don’t know what the gods will think of the idea.”

A heartbeat’s pause passed, and then everyone looked at Mr. D. It seemed to take Dionysus a moment to notice, and then he just glanced up and snorted at them.

“Do you really think the gods care what the mortal world knows?” he asked scornfully. “Do you as you like. Certainly Hermes could use less work.”

He went back to his game.

“Alright, that’s our input from the gods,” Clint said dryly. “I don’t know why I expected anything different.”

“What do you think, Buck?” Steve asked, soft. Bucky tilted his head, looked at Steve, then at Chiron, then at Percy and Annabeth. Percy couldn’t tell if he was thinking or disoriented. Bucky always seemed to be a little (or a lot) of both.

“Children should be protected,” he said after a moment. Another second passed, and then he glanced at the two children and added, “Half-bloods shouldn’t have to fight alone.”

“That settles it, then,” Tony said, because he knew Steve and he knew Clint. “I guess we better get ready for a grand reveal.”

Chapter Text

Percy still remembered what the Styx had looked like on his very first quest. It reminded him of the news reels he’d seen of oil spills, water so dark and greasy that it looked evil, with the tendrils of it swirling and writhing under the surface. And the objects bobbing down the river – baby shoes, torn clothes, canvas paintings that had been snapped in half and never finished. Broken and forgotten dreams, Charon had said, thrown in by the dead as they passed on.

The image was more vivid now than it had been in years, and for the first time in his life, he dreamed of drowning. He dreamed of crawling over the side of Charon’s boat, falling in, and then sinking like a stone, the dark water closing over his head and blocking out the light.

Oil coated his nose and throat, so he couldn’t breathe; neither water or air could get through, and he was drowning the way a fish drowned, millimeters from oxygen. He choked and struggled, grasping at his face, and begged his father for help. He heard Kronos’ dark and ominous laugh, loud and powerful enough to make the water shake around him.

Do you see the futility, little hero? Kronos asked him, not the least bit muffled by the polluted river. Do you see the hopelessness of your task? Forsake the gods, as they have forsaken you and all those like you. Come. Come.

Percy woke up with a cry too thin and hoarse to be a scream, and immediately fell out of bed, tangled up in the covers. For a moment, he scratched frantically at his throat, and then he rolled to his feet, and the next thing he knew he was sitting on the floor of the running shower, still wearing his fleece pufferfish-patterned pajamas, trying to scrub the Styx river off his face with a soapy washcloth.

A few minutes later, Sally knocked tentatively on the door. “Percy? Are you alright?”

Percy tried to take a breath, but it didn’t make it all the way in, so his voice was thin and wavering when he replied. “I’m fine! I’m not scared!”

“...Percy, sweetheart, can I come in?”

“...Yeah.”

Sally opened the door, slow and gentle, and stepped inside. Her eyes found him immediately, shadowed with worry, and softened. “Oh, Percy.” Percy clenched his fists without looking at her, and she came to sit beside him, leaning over into the spray without seeming to notice. “Percy, what’s wrong?”

Percy tried again to take a deep breath. Didn’t work. “I turned fifteen last week,” he blurted out. Sally inhaled sharply, and Percy continued, staring at the soap bubbles in the cloth, “It’s less than a year now. I’ll be sixteen in less than a year. I-”

His breath hitched violently. Without hesitation, Sally pushed herself into the small shower stall with him, sat behind him, and hugged him from there, arms pressed in around his stomach. He shuddered and leaned into it, silently willing his mom dry, and tried to say something that wasn’t pure nonsense and stuff his mom already knew.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” he said into her collarbone. His voice cracked. “I know I can’t do anything right but this is too important and everyone is counting on me. Everyone at camp, and, and Dad and Tyson, and Nico and Calypso and Zoë and I’m gonna let them all down because I couldn’t fucking suck it up and admit I’m a useless piece of shit and I’m probably not gonna turn sixteen anyway so none of it matters, but I’m stuck with it anyway and now they think I can stand up to Kronos- and, and I can’t even make my friends get along and I can’t get along with anyone I’m supposed to and I can’t help them-”

It was like a wound had broken open, and everything inside him was spilling out in a rush. He wasn’t crying, but he felt like he should be; instead he was trembling, numb to the water that cascaded over both of them, and he tried to hike himself even closer to Sally but he was too big.

“And I don’t know how I’m gonna get through this year when the monsters are only getting worse and we’re constantly trying to keep up with Kronos and new campers keep asking me why the gods aren’t helping us, and, and I keep having dreams and I can’t tell which ones are prophetic and which ones are nightmares, and I still have fucking school and I don’t know what I’m gonna tell the teachers when I fail all my classes even though I don’t have to read so much anymore except it won’t matter because soon everyone in the fucking world will know I’m gonna be the one to fuck everything up-”

Sally reached up, twisted the handle, and turned the cold water to warm. Percy stopped talking, staring at her blankly with his breath still hitching and catching every few seconds. She cupped the back of his head and pulled him against her shoulder again, rocking gently so they moved together. Percy closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said softly after a while, when his breath had evened out a little. “I should have realized that you had far too much on your shoulders this year. We’re going to take care of everything, okay, honey? Everything is going to be okay.” Percy let out a soft whine that he never would’ve made around anyone else. Sally sighed. “Oh guppy, my guppy...”

That unlocked a memory he didn’t know he had, splashing in a bathtub a very, very long time ago. He let out something that was kind of supposed to be a laugh. Sally stroked his hair for a while, slow and soothing, both of them under the cascading shower spray.

“Percy,” Sally said at last, still soft. He mumbled inquisitively. “We’re going to make this year as easy as possible, okay? You’re dealing with enough.” Percy groaned into her shoulder. “We can send you to a public school this year. I know you’ll like the atmosphere better; you can make friends. Don’t worry about your grades, you’re more important. You can even skip class if you need to. I don’t care if you need to repeat a grade later if it helps you now. I want you safe and I want you happy.”

Percy peeked up to look at her, blinking blearily, and then nodded against her shoulder. Sally stroked his hair again, tugging gently as she went.

“There is nothing you could do to disappoint me this year, sweetheart,” she said quietly. “You’re being so brave and you’re going to do so well, better than you ever could have imagined. I know it, and Chiron knows it, and your father knows it. But it’s so much and it’s okay for you to let it show. I’m not going to be upset if you act up sometimes, or if you’re jumpy, or if you need extra support. It’s going to be a hard year and I’m so proud of you already.”

Percy’s breath hitched again, and he shuddered, and for a while he didn’t move or respond to her, just listened to her breathe.

“Can we stay up for a while?” he asked at last. “I wanna watch The Princess Bride. And have popcorn and blue M&Ms.”

Sally laughed quietly. “Of course we can.”

Neither of them went to sleep that night; they put on The Princess Bride, then Pirates of the Caribbean. When it was well into morning, and Percy still couldn’t bring himself to detach from Sally, she called in sick, and then put on The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

“Hey,” he said, after a few minutes. Sally hummed back, reclined so they could both stretch out along the couch. “Foggy can come over if he wants.”

Sally ran her fingers through his hair, and when he looked up, she was smiling at him. “Thank you, sweetheart. Starting today or tomorrow?”

Do you want me to call him? she really meant, but Percy was grateful she didn’t make him say that. “Today.”

She pressed a kiss to his hair, and then shifted to get her phone from her pocket.

“Good morning to you too, Foggy,” Sally said softly, still carding her fingers through Percy’s hair. “I wanted to let you know that Percy said he was okay with you coming over.” Pause. “As soon as you can. I won’t ask you to leave work if you’re busy, but Percy had a rough night. We’ve been watching movies since one in the morning.” Pause. “Thank you, Foggy. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Percy exhaled, relaxing a little as she put her phone away. “Thanks,” he mumbled, tucking his face against her arm. He hesitated, and then said, “We could start the movie over and make waffles? I bet they’d be done by the time he’s here.”

“That sounds wonderful, sweetheart.” She nudged him into squirming upright, and he got up with a slight stumble – they’d been sitting there for quite a while. Sally stretched out and followed, and then went right for the bottle of blue food dye in the cupboard. Percy smiled a little.

He fell quiet again, prepping the waffle maker while Sally mixed up the batter. Sally didn’t speak until the first waffle was in the iron.

“Talk to me, Percy,” she said softly. Nothing more than that.

“...What if I can’t do it?” he whispered. A heartbeat of dead silence passed, and his heart hammered in his chest. “I make awful choices, Mom. I’m impulsive, I get confused, I- what if I can’t do it?” He couldn’t look at her. He could feel his heartbeat so strongly that it almost hurt. “Kronos tried to turn Thalia with her fatal flaw, her, her need for power. Athena thinks… she thinks he’s going to use my loyalty. Make me choose between the gods and someone I love. I- I don’t know if I can do that. If I could choose right.”

He’d told Athena that he could. He’d told Poseidon he could. But the thought filled his chest with ice until it ached.

Percy started when gentle hands spun him around, and Sally hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, struggling not to break down all over again, and didn’t let go until the waffle maker dinged.

“You can, Percy,” Sally said, even as she turned away to work with the iron. “I’ve known it since you were little, and everything that’s happened since you went to camp has made me more sure.” Finished, she turned back and kissed his hair again. “When it comes down to the wire, you always do the right thing. Always.”

Percy hugged her again, unable to vocalize his uncertainty, but let go quickly this time. Neither of them spoke again until the doorbell rang, and Sally went to let Foggy in.

“Ah, Sally’s wonderful apartment, how I’ve missed thee,” Foggy said cheerfully, and then, quieter, “How’s he doing?”

“He’s anxious,” Sally answered, audibly fretful. “The pressure hit him hard last night. The only time he’s let go of me was when we got up to make breakfast.”

“And how are you doing?”

Sally’s voice turned tender with gratitude. “I’m worried about him, I’m worried about this year. But I’m okay. Really. I’ve known this was coming for a long time.”

Her voice trembled slightly toward the end. Percy glanced toward the door just in time to see Foggy hug her, and turned away again to give them their moment. It even made him smile.

A few minutes later, both of them joined him in the kitchen. Foggy laughed.

“I should’ve known it would be something blue,” he said, sounding genuinely fond. “What’re we watching? The Little Mermaid?”

Percy snorted at the gentle jab and shook his head, going to pull the syrup out. “Chronicles of Narnia,” he said. “We’re only a couple minutes in, I figured we could start over when you got here.”

“Oh, thanks,” Foggy said, sounding surprised but pleased.

Before long, they settled back on the couch, each with a plate full of a waffle. Sally was in the middle, with Percy leaning on her and her leaning on Foggy. Percy mentally compared it to trying to watch a movie with Gabe, and hid a smile against Sally’s arm.

They got about halfway through, all three of them watching quietly, before Percy broke the silence again.

“We’re going to drop the Mist soon,” he said, without looking at either of them. The split second of silence was stifling and startled, and he bit his cheek. “Tony and Annabeth are designing a website to explain everything.”

“...That mean I’ll be able to see your sword now?” Foggy teased after a moment, still a little breathless with shock. Percy smiled for a moment.

“Yeah,” he said. “And monsters and stuff.” He tucked his face against Sally’s shoulder again. “It… it probably won’t happen until after my birthday. Hecate does most of the work for the Mist, and she’s working under Kronos right now.” He exhaled. “But Tony and Steve and everyone’s working on telling some people before then. Military generals and PR people and the president and stuff.”

“I bet that’s stressing you out,” Foggy said, with false nonchalance.

Percy nodded, not bothering to deny it. He felt oddly exhausted. “It’s… that’s a lot of people to have know when I’ll turn sixteen.”

Foggy hissed through his teeth. “And everything that comes with it, huh?”

Percy exhaled, his throat tightening to the point of pain. “Y-yeah.”

Foggy’s expression scrunched with sympathy, and he reached over. Percy flinched, but before either of them could consciously react to that, Foggy’s hand landed on Percy’s back. He pushed once before he registered Percy’s reaction and pulled his hand back like he’d been burned.

“Sorry,” he said, wincing. “Wasn’t thinking.”

“…It’s okay,” Percy said. “I didn’t mind.”

Percy wasn’t sure whether Sally or Foggy’s smile was more pleased. Foggy reached over to give Percy a comforting rub like he was scratching a dog, a motion so natural it was immediately clear he’d reacted on reflex.

Percy relaxed.

One of the best parts of having a really smart dyslexic best friend was that Annabeth knew a lot of workarounds – real ones, not that stupid shit that counselors were always trying to feed Percy. Workaround number one: symbols, because sometimes you needed to refer back to a list a lot and didn’t have time to keep decoding it. Even better: stickers.

So Percy spent the ten minutes before the bell rang marking up his schedule. World History got a globe sticker. Physics got that cool little atom symbol. First Aid got a red cross. So on, so forth. Bim, bam, boom. He had too many electives this year, missing out on some of the requirements he’d have to fill in later, but he figured his mom would forgive him.

“Huh. Hey, can I borrow those when you’re done?”

Percy blinked, distracted, and looked up. The girl beside him was looking at him expectantly, pointing at the sticker sheet. “Um.”

He hesitated, and after a moment, the girl shrugged. “Or not. I can just draw them. What, do you use them for something else too?” Percy stared at her. She seemed unfazed. “They’re a study aid, aren’t they? You seem pretty focused.”

"Yeah," Percy said at last, startled and bemused, and sat up. “Um, you can borrow them when I’m done, but at this rate that might not be ‘til after class.” He shrugged. “I don’t really have a system yet. The stickers are something my friend suggested.”

“Good friend,” the girl said lightly, and then turned to face the front, apparently satisfied. Percy was vividly reminded of Rachel.

The bell rang only a few minutes later, and Percy cursed under his breath, trying to read faster. The teacher strode briskly to the front, cleared her throat, waited, and then cleared her throat again, louder. The awkward silence stretched on, and Percy twitched uncomfortably without even looking up.

“You may decorate your schedule after class,” the teacher said at last, loud and pointed. Percy’s face flooded with color, and he quickly closed the sticker sheet into his binder and pushed it aside. “Thank you, Mr...?”

“Jackson,” Percy muttered.

The teacher examined a sheet of her own. “Jackson, Jackson... Ah, Perseus. I see you’re our special needs student.”

Percy’s chest tightened with humiliation as everyone, literally everyone in the class turned to stare at him. At least one teacher pulled this shit every damn year, and he never had the patience for it, but right now? He was way too fucking stressed for this shit.

“Percy,” he corrected tersely. He gave the teacher a sarcastic thumbs up. “Super glad your reading comprehension is as bad as mine is. Do you need some help figuring out why the dyslexic kid is putting stickers on his schedule? Like, do I need to explain what dyslexia is?”

The teacher’s expression tightened noticeably as snickers rippled across the classroom, and she turned away, taking attendance as if nothing had happened. The girl beside Percy gave him a real thumbs up, smirking.

After that they went over the syllabus, and Percy risked taking his stickers back out to mark the big assignments on the course calendar. (Another suggestion from Annabeth.) It didn’t look too unusual, and Percy tuned most of it out, focusing on figuring out what he’d actually have to do to scrape a C.

His mom might have said that she didn’t care how he did this year, but he was sure she’d still be really happy if he tried.

“And someone needs to volunteer to help Perseus,” the teacher said toward the end of class, sounding bored. Percy immediately turned bright red.

“That’s not-” he started, embarrassed and angry, but two of the boys nearby had raised their hands before he could finish, and he dropped his head into his hands and growled at the table.

All in all: so far, public school really wasn’t that different from private.

The bell rang about two minutes too late, and Percy grumpily packed up his stuff, then tossed his backpack over his shoulder. He sidestepped something before he could consciously register what it was, then glanced up to raise an eyebrow at one of the boys who had raised their hands. The boy smiled at him sheepishly, withdrawing his hand from where he’d been about to tap Percy’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I was wondering if you had, um, if you had a cell phone we could, I mean a number we could trade, or maybe you could tell me what lunch you have today, ‘cause Ned and I have second lunch and maybe we could sit together or something-”

Despite himself, Percy was instantly reminded of Nico, and it smoothed his ruffled feathers enough for him to answer. “I’ve got second lunch today,” he conceded grudgingly. “But I’m not an idiot, I’ve been going to school as long as you have. I don’t need someone to explain the lesson in small words and short sentences. It just takes me a long time to read stuff.”

“Oh.” The boy deflated, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable, and it only took Percy a moment to give in.

“We can sit together anyway,” he conceded. “It’s not like I know anyone here. Just don’t treat me like I’m stupid. I’m not.”

The boy beamed; it was kind of cute. “Okay! Course not. My name’s Peter, you’re Percy, right?” Percy nodded. “Great! I’ll tell Ned!”

He scurried off, looking pleased, and Percy managed a smile before he checked his schedule and went to find his way to his next class. At least he had someone to sit with at lunch. If he was really unlucky, that could take him a couple of weeks, and it was awkward.

It turned out that Percy shared a couple classes with Peter and Ned – not a lot, because he wasn’t exactly on a normal freshman schedule, and they were on the freshman schedule for smart kids anyway. But they shared physics, Home Economics, and PE, which was a decent place to start. And right after PE was lunch, so Percy took a quick shower just to scrub the sweat off and then headed to the cafeteria.

The two other boys had parked themselves just off the central aisle. Ned spotted Percy first and nudged Peter, and Peter looked up and waved at him enthusiastically. Percy bit down a smile and waved back before he turned away to get his food.

“Holy shit, I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Ned blurted out the moment he sat down. Percy shrugged his backpack off his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Do what?” he asked, bemused. “Make it through the first day? Jury’s still out on that one.”

“Sit with us,” Ned said in a stage whisper, looking wide-eyed. “Dude, you’re like... cool. And Peter and I are like, so not.”

Percy didn’t even know what to say to that, but his cheeks instantly felt hot. “You reached out first. I didn’t see anyone else offering to help me.” He dug into his mashed potatoes. “I don’t have a cell phone, by the way. Sorry. But I’ve got a tablet for school if email’s alright.” He’d had to come early today to pick it up, but it had been worth it last year, so he had high hopes for this year.

Both of them exchanged grins, oddly delighted. “We can do email!” Peter said quickly, like he thought Percy would take it back. “Do you really not want help, ‘cause Ned and I are like, mega nerds, we can totally help.”

“Peter, you’re sabotaging us-” Ned protested.

Percy tapped his fork against the edge of his tray, and then asked reluctantly, “Can you share your notes with me? I can’t write fast enough to take any while the teacher’s talking, and then I can’t hear them either ‘cause I’m trying to write.”

“Course we can!” Peter said brightly, oddly enthusiastic, and Percy managed a tense smile.

Thankfully, they moved on from school once Peter and Ned had put their email addresses into Percy’s contact list. Both of them liked Star Wars, which Percy had seen a couple times with his mom, and they were eager to tell him the plotline of every extended universe novel that went with the movies. That trailed off into Legos, which Percy definitely didn’t have the patience for but Annabeth would probably like, and then took a turn into superheroes.

“Iron Man’s got the best Lego sets, but Thor is definitely the coolest,” Ned told Percy seriously. “You just can’t beat an actual god.”

Percy tried not to smile; little did they know. He wondered how the Battle of New York would have gone if Zeus had bothered to lend a hand like Thor had. “I dunno, his powers seem pretty restricted compared to what you’d expect of a god. He’s pretty dependent on his hammer too. If I remember the footage right, he was mostly just hitting things.”

“But he’s a god,” Ned said insistently. Percy rolled his eyes.

“That doesn’t mean much on its own,” he said dryly. “I’ve always liked Hawkeye. It takes a lot to shoot that accurately in a fight that chaotic. Hell, I don’t know how he shoots that accurately at all – I swear to the gods that when I try to fire a bow it just curves right around and hits the guy next to me.”

Peter perked up. “You can shoot?” he asked excitedly.

“Uh, no, I just said I can’t hit the broad side of a barn,” Percy said. “But some of the other kids at my camp can. I go to, uh, kind of a historical reenactment camp, we train with weapons and stuff. I’m better with a sword.” He’d been relieved to find out that cover story; it meant he could talk about most of the stuff he did at camp, as long as he didn’t bring anything actually godly into it.

“That’s so cool,” Peter hissed, vibrating in place. “Do you think our school has a fencing team?”

Percy started, and then after a moment, smirked. “I bet if it does, I can kick their asses,” he said. “Wonder if Mom would let me join.”

On the one hand, it would be kind of unfair, but on the other, it sounded like fun, and that was a rare enough thing for him when it came to school. He’d let his mom make the call. It wasn’t like with swimming, either, where his talent was part of his power; the sword stuff was all Percy. Probably.

“What else do you do there?” Peter asked, like he was actually interested. “A historical reenactment camp sounds so cool, what time period?”

“Ancient Greece,” Percy said, playing self-consciously with Riptide. “Swordplay is the big draw for me, but we do capture-the-flag too, and footracing and wrestling and stuff. Rock climbing. Anything you’d expect to see at the original Olympics. Plus, you know, campfire stuff, and, uh. Annabeth’s been teaching me to read Greek.”

“Holy shit, dude,” Peter whispered, because apparently to him this didn’t sound stupid as all hell. “You can read Greek?”

Percy shrugged. “Some. It’s easier than English, technically, ‘cause my dyslexia doesn’t get in the way so much, but I’ve also only been able to learn it over the last couple summers, so I’m still basically reading kids’ chapter books. Except when Annabeth makes me read Homer.”

“I’d say I want to go, but I’m pretty sure I would die,” Ned said. “I’m so jealous.”

Percy smiled a little. Yeah, Camp Half-Blood was head-and-shoulders the best part of being a demigod. “It’s private anyway. You have to apply and pass a physical test, kinda like with the marines.”

“That’s gonna look so good on your resume,” Peter said, looking wistful. Percy hid his snort behind his fist.

“It’s the only thing that’s gonna look good,” he said dryly – Chiron had said the cover was designed that way, but Percy was pretty sure even that couldn’t save him. Ugh. “The rest of it is an on-fire trash can.”

Ned’s eyes went wide. “I knew I recognized you!” he exclaimed. Percy winced, but Ned whipped around to Peter and said, just as excitedly, “Peter, Peter, do you remember that kid, like, three years ago in the news- with the arch and the kidnapper and gunfight and stuff-”

Percy covered his face. Gods, that media storm had been a nightmare, even if it had ended well.

“Holy shit,” Peter said. “Are you the kid that got into a gunfight with the guy that kidnapped you and your friends?”

“Close enough,” Percy mumbled, red-faced.

“Holy shit,” Peter said again. “That’s badass.”

“It also sucked and I don’t recommend it,” Percy said, with more honesty than he’d meant to. Stabbing Ares in the ankle? Fantastic. But the sheer high-stakes terror made it a fight he wasn’t eager to repeat unless he had to. “Getting into fights with grown men just isn’t fun.”

“Wow,” Ned said, and then, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come play Legos?”

Percy gave in and laughed. “Well, I won’t promise I’ll sit still, but sure. Why not?”

Chapter Text

Somehow, Percy had become the official liaison between Camp Half-Blood and the Avengers, and he had absolutely no idea how. Weren’t two of them half-bloods with direct access to camp themselves?

But ever since that first meeting, Natasha would come by the apartment every so often, pick him up, and drive him to the compound, making idle chatter on the way there. And then at the compound, they’d talk about camp and how preparations were going, and usually they’d train too, improving Percy’s hand-to-hand or pitting him against an Avenger, sword and shield against the Iron Man armor or Cap’s shield. By this point, it was starting to be kind of fun.

“I hear you and the daughter of Zeus had quite a showdown last winter,” Natasha said over her shoulder as she pulled away from his apartment. Percy snickered into his arm.

“Yeah, that was fun,” he said with amusement. “It’s probably better that we don’t fight so much now though. I think we scared some of the younger campers.”

Actually, he was pretty sure they’d scared all the campers, and some of the Hunters too. But that was where it stopped being funny. His smile faded.

“It’s good for people to remember their heritage,” Natasha said. “If people forget how powerful the children of the Big Three can be, then it’ll be a nasty wake-up call the next time one does come around.”

“I guess,” Percy said dubiously.

“Anyway,” Natasha continued lightly, somehow managing to evade traffic in the middle of the day in New York. “The reason I mention it is that we finally got that visitor we’ve been waiting for. Thor came back to Earth last night, and he brought Bruce. I thought it would be best if we made a point of introducing you early on.”

“Is it?” Percy asked, skeptical. “How come?”

“Why not?” Natasha countered. “More likely than not, you’ll be front-and-center when Kronos makes his play for Olympus, and that’s the reason we called Thor back. It’ll be good to establish familiarity.”

“Okayyy...” Percy mumbled, leaning on the window to look outside it. “Gods don’t usually like me though.”

“Thor’s not your usual god,” Natasha said. Percy suppressed the urge to scoff and pressed his forehead against the cool glass.

A while later, they finally reached the Avengers compound outside the city, and Percy followed Natasha inside. They found the rest of the Avengers in the kitchen, most of them seated around the large central island, with plates of food already set out. Looked like brunch, pancakes and bacon and egg sandwiches. Steve and Wanda were working together at the counter; Wanda was cutting up fruit and tossing it into a bowl of fruit salad, and Steve was making more pancakes. Bucky wasn’t here; Percy had only met the man twice so far, because he wasn’t fond of bustling activity.

“I brought the new kid,” Natasha announced, nudging Percy forward.

“Oh,” Bruce said, as soon as he set eyes on Percy. “He really is a kid. I thought you were joking.”

Percy flushed, but Thor grinned broadly, swinging around to hold out a hand for Percy to shake. “Ah, you’ve brought another of our Greek cousins! A son of the sea, unless I’m much mistaken.”

Hesitantly, Percy reached out and shook Thor’s hand, firming up his grip when Thor squeezed playfully. “Hi. You don’t feel like a god.”

Percy immediately turned red. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out. Fortunately, Thor didn’t take offense, only laughed.

“I imagine not, if you are more used to the divine presence of the Greeks! Nay, I have many centuries yet before I reach that level of power, and many heroic deeds to do before I earn it. But you, cousin – I can see your father’s blood is strong in you, and I’m told your trials have been many already. What monsters have you slain?”

Percy fidgeted, all eyes on him. “Um, probably nothing that would be that interesting to you,” he mumbled, tapping his toes against the stool’s footrest.

“Nonsense,” Thor said firmly, though his smile was a little gentler now. “There are few in any realm that will ever experience such trials as those the Greeks cast upon their children. I am certain your quests have been arduous and honorable.”

“Um,” Percy repeated, and glanced around. Most of the others were engaged with each other or their food, but Vision looked interested, and Bruce and Clint both seemed to be paying attention too. How had he ended up in this situation? “Well, my first monster – the first real fight anyway – was the Minotaur. The new campers really like that story.”

“It’s the first one anyone at camp tells you if you ask about Percy,” Clint told Thor with a grin. “I should know, since that’s what happened to me.”

Percy blushed, but he found himself smiling too. “So I got, like, really unlucky with my journey to camp,” he explained to Thor. “No one even told me I was a demigod until a few days after I got there, that’s how bad it was. The Minotaur chased us all the way from Montauk to the edge of camp.”

“See, already this is more interesting than what any of the other kids told me,” Clint said, and Percy actually rolled his eyes.

“About the only lucky break I got that whole night was that it was raining,” Percy continued instead of replying. “It was just me, my mom, and my friend Grover on the way there, and Grover got knocked out when the car got struck by lightning, so then it was just me and Mom.”

“Excuse me, you can’t leave that there,” Rhodey said incredulously, which made Percy jump, because he didn’t think he’d been paying attention. “When the car got struck by lightning? Cars keep you safe in lightning. Metal frame.”

“Not if Zeus really, really hates you,” Percy deadpanned. “Anyway, Mom gave me a tutorial on bullfighting, which works great on bulls and not so great on a Minotaur with hands to grab you with. So it worked the first time and only the first time, and...” He hesitated, then decided to skip over the whole Mom-napping thing. He didn’t like talking about it, and it didn’t have a lot to do with the Minotaur itself anyway. “And the second time I kind of had to do something else.”

He gestured vaguely. Thor’s eyes were still bright with interest, like he had nothing better to do than listen to Percy talk about an old fight, and it made Percy smile despite himself.

“I jumped straight up and landed on its shoulders,” Percy said, with a little more confidence. “I’m lucky I didn’t fall right off, honestly. Anyway, I didn’t have a weapon, but its horns were right in front of me, so I just... grabbed one and snapped it off.”

“With your bare hands?” Rhodey demanded.

“A mighty and valiant feat of strength!” Thor enthused.

“Can you do that?” Bruce whispered to Clint.

“Fuck no,” Clint snorted. “That’s some Big Three bullshit.”

“Holy shit,” Bruce said.

“I cannot emphasize enough how much it fucking sucked,” Percy said. “I probably couldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been so upset. Anyway, then I did fall off, and the next time it got close I stabbed it with the horn. And then I dragged Grover over the border and passed out at the bottom of the hill.”

Thor clapped him on the back, making Percy wince. “I see you are not only a mighty warrior, but a humble one as well! That is a skill I myself have yet to master.” He grinned. “You must have more tales of grander still fights since then! Please, a feast is best accompanied by tales of battle and glory,” he added, when Percy moved to protest.

“I’m interested too,” Steve threw over his shoulder. “Demigods keep to themselves so much, I don’t get to hear a lot about what goes on there.”

“Well, you shoulda asked, Cap,” Clint said with a grin, but he nodded at Percy too. Percy flushed, but soon gave way under the encouragement.

There were other fights that he was genuinely proud of, so he shared those without much more prodding. He’d done a great job against Antaeus, figuring out how to get around his earth-based healing power, and the Nemean Lion had been an uncharacteristic stroke of genius too. He was working his way through the challenge at Geryon’s ranch when a plate of blue pancakes landed in front of him.

He blinked at them, startled, and then looked up to meet Wanda’s eyes with confusion.

“I wanted to apologize for acting in anger when last we met,” she said, curt but calm. “I was still grieving, and not myself. I did not expect to find so deep a wound.”

Percy flinched. “Oh. Uh. Did you see that?” Wanda nodded. “Sorry, um-” He shook himself, trying to discard the reminder and focus on the conversation. Blue pancakes. “It’s okay. Most people kinda assume my life was easy before I found out I was a half-blood. Less complicated that way, I guess.”

“Why are they blue?” Bruce asked, accidentally cutting through the building tension. He was squinting at Percy’s plate. “Is this a joke I’m not getting?”

Despite himself, a flicker of a smile passed over Percy’s face, but he was startled when a few of the Avengers grinned too.

“You’re going to love this,” Tony told Bruce seriously, grinning wide. “Percy’s mom has been building up one hell of a fundraising movement. Blue Food Project, does donation drives for domestic violence charities and women’s shelters.”

“They do bake sales and art exhibitions, mostly,” Clint put in, surprisingly enthusiastic. “And people are loving it, I haven’t seen people talk this much about helping abuse victims in, like, ever.”

“I was gonna back it myself, but somehow the Dare family heir beat me to it,” Tony added. “Not to say I won’t pitch in anyway, but Sally isn’t ready to make it much bigger just yet.”

“What is this ‘domestic violence’?” Thor inserted, brow furrowed, and Sam took over that explanation.

Percy’s face felt hot again. He’d known, sort of, that word would get around to them – they were keeping tabs on him, after all, and he’d helped out with a couple of bake sales since that first one – but he hadn’t thought they’d be interested.

Rhodey caught Percy’s eye and gave him a small grin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tony so excited about a charity,” he told Percy. “Usually he allocates a percentage of his profits and lets Pepper handle the specifics of where it goes.”

Percy gave in and covered his face. “It’s just a silly story,” he mumbled.

“It’s not silly,” Rhodey said. “It’s sweet. It takes a strong person to find happiness in such a simple thing when your life is so dark.” He reached over to squeeze Percy’s forearm, brief and reassuring. “It gave a lot of people a lot of hope. That’s no small thing.”

Percy smiled behind his hands, embarrassed. “Yeah. Mom’s the most amazing person in the whole world.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “I’m still confused,” he said, though he looked a little softer now. Percy shrugged when everyone looked at him, face on fire.

“Mom explained it better than I could,” he deferred.

“Does this mean I can show him the article?” Tony asked. “I’ve been dying to show him the article.”

“I mean, sure?” Percy said uncertainly, and then dug into the pancakes to distract himself. Tony conjured a tablet from somewhere and showed it to Bruce, who read through what Percy assumed was Ben’s article on Sally.

Steve and Wanda joined them at the island shortly before Bruce finished, and Percy reached out belatedly to grab some fruit salad and some bacon.

“She really put it all out there, huh?” Bruce said once he was done, a little softer than before. He pushed the tablet back to Tony. “Are you really comfortable with having this be so public?”

Percy shrugged and fidgeted, but when Steve started to look concerned, he gave in.

“Like I said to Mom, most of the stuff he actually did is still private, so it’s not like we’re that exposed,” he explained, tapping his fork against the plate. “I mean, it doesn’t even say in either article that he-” He cut himself off, flushing. They didn’t even say that he hit us. “Anyway. The only weird thing is when people like, bring it up out of context. Especially in the context of demigod stuff.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Steve said, frowning. “We didn’t even ask, did we?”

Percy shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “It’s fine. Mom would be really happy that you’re so excited about it. She wasn’t sure if it was the right thing at first, making something out of the attention.”

“She did an incredible thing,” Bruce said firmly, and Percy smiled.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Hopefully after, um, after this summer I’ll be able to help out more. Right now I’m helping out more to relax than to actually build it up.”

“That’s plenty,” Sam said, though he was also frowning. “How sure are we that the fight is gonna be this summer?”

“Completely,” Clint said. “Kronos has his vessel, and he’s actively recruiting; we’ve had more runaways from camp this year than in the last ten put together, and even Tony and I have gotten dreams from him. A couple kids have been having dreams of his activity, too – he’s been breaking monsters out of Tartarus and Titans out of their prisons, but none of them are attacking. He’s biding his time.”

“We’ve already started talking to the UN about it,” Tony added. “I think we’ll get all the legalities worked out in time. It’s the reveal of the Greek world that’ll really take time to smooth out – I’ve already got a few meetings with the president arranged to talk about everything, which, man, is not gonna be fun.”

Percy’s stomach turned at the thought. He was so glad that he was just a camper.

“And, of course, Percy turns sixteen this summer,” Clint finished, nodding at Percy, who dropped his gaze abruptly. His appetite disappeared. “There’s too many signs pointing to it to brush off. It’s gonna be then.”

“If I didn’t turn sixteen this summer,” Percy said without thinking, staring at his plate, “do you think it would still happen?”

The silence that came after his question was stifling, though it took Percy a few seconds to notice it. He blinked and looked up, confused, to find most of the Avengers looking at him with an array of worried and disturbed expressions. He slouched, uncomfortable.

“It was just a question,” he mumbled.

“Percy,” Rhodey said carefully, “are you thinking about doing something?”

“No-ooo,” Percy muttered, kicking the island wall. His stomach turned violently, thinking of the Styx river. “I’ve just been wondering. I mean- the gods might’ve had a point, is all. About it being dangerous for me to exist.”

“Oh,” Tony said, with sudden comprehension that made Percy flinch. “Percy, no one died. You nearly died, we thought you were dead for weeks. I’m not surprised you scared yourself, but that’s a good thing. Means you’ll be careful in the future.”

“Half a million people were evacuated,” Percy said without looking up. “Two hundred got hospitalized. And Typhon is stirring now too.”

“Uh, what?” Bruce questioned warily.

“I blew up Mount Saint Helens a few months ago,” Percy explained. His eyes stung, and he scowled, spearing some watermelon on his fork. “I didn’t mean to. I was panicking ‘cause I was on fire. But it erupted. I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Such shows of power are the stuff of legend and song!” Thor encouraged him, through a mouthful of pancake. “It proves that you are mighty. Your enemies will surely fear you.”

Percy popped the chunk of watermelon into his mouth to avoid replying. His enemies already feared him. It was his friends that he was worried about.

“I didn’t know you were on fire,” Natasha said, glancing up at him. She didn’t look bothered. But she could have been pretending.

“Telekhines were throwing lava at me,” Percy muttered, resisting the urge to rub his chest at the memory. “Dad’s power makes me hard to burn, I guess, but you know what it definitely doesn’t make me? Lava-proof.”

“I think you can be forgiven for panicking a little under those circumstances,” Wanda said, shooting him a rare, fleeting smile. Percy didn’t reply.

“Do you know what you did exactly that made it erupt?” Bruce asked. Percy nodded.

“I summoned water,” he said. “I guess you shouldn’t do that inside an active volcano.”

“Then don’t do that again,” Bruce said gently. “Don’t even put yourself in that situation again. Stay out of active volcanoes, maybe find out where else you can’t safely summon water, and make sure you don’t go there. It’ll be fine.”

For the first time, some of the weight lifted off Percy’s shoulders. “Okay. I’ll talk to Annabeth about it, I guess. She’d probably know.”

Bruce flashed him a smile and raised his glass of orange juice, expression wry. “To destructive powers that save your life, eh?”

Of course. The Hulk.

Percy returned the gesture, managing a small smile of his own.

“Don’t mind me. I’m not looking for an appointment. I’m just here to speak with my son.”

“You’re not Mrs. Nelson,” Karen said, voice sharp and suspicious.

“An astute observation. No, dear, I’m here to speak to Matthew.”

Matt dropped his screen reader, and Percy shut off his StarkPad immediately, glancing up at the door with a frown. Sally had covered her mouth with one fist, and Foggy had sat bolt upright.

Percy didn’t recognize the goddess that walked in. She looked punk and arrogant, spiked collar, platform boots, and all. Her eyes glittered with amusement, and locked on Matt before the door even shut behind her.

“Matthew Murdock,” she said thoughtfully, examining him. “I should have kept an eye on you. You’ve managed to accomplish a lot even without my attention, I see.”

“I like to think so,” Matt said, slow and careful. He was stiff as a board from head to toe, and very, very pale. “Did you need something?”

“Right to the point,” she chuckled. She sat down, a chair appearing behind her exactly as she needed it, and Percy caught Foggy staring incredulously. “Did you like my gift?”

“...Your gift?”

The goddess smiled, reached up, and tapped her temple. “Your enhanced senses, of course. A fair trade for your eyesight, I should think.”

“That was you?” Matt already seemed disconcerted and upset, his knee bouncing anxiously while his hand gripped his cane tightly. Percy felt a twinge of sympathy. Meeting your godly parent was never like what you thought it was gonna be. Usually, it was much, much worse.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t that ragtag mix of mortal chemicals,” she said with humor. “Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Matt did not. “Well, that’s fine. What you’ve been doing with them is tribute enough.”

“Who are you?” Matt demanded, shifting his grip as if in preparation to get up and swing his cane. “What tribute?”

“I’m Nemesis, of course,” she said impatiently. “You’re smarter than this, child. Goddess of revenge, justice, balance... you’d be surprised how many of my children become lawyers, though most of them work prosecution, I believe.” She smiled. “But your work as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen more than makes up for that little discrepancy.”

Karen squeaked, hand flying to her mouth.

Nemesis, Foggy mouthed, staring wide-eyed at the goddess. Sally was holding his hand tightly, keeping him still.

“My lady,” Percy interrupted, keeping his voice carefully neutral, “did you come to ask a favor?”

Nemesis glanced over at him, amusement still glimmering in her eyes.

“Of you? Certainly not. Kronos has been courting you personally for more than two years now. If he has not parted you from your precious gods, I doubt that I will.” She returned her eyes to Matt, who was frozen stiff. “But I thought Matthew might be interested.”

Matt’s breath was slow and even. It was hard to read his expression from behind his glasses, but it didn’t look friendly. He set his cane across his knees. “I’m not sure what would make you think that.”

“Don’t take me for a fool, child,” Nemesis said dismissively, waving her hand. “You have been to Camp Half-Blood, and you’ve known Perseus for some time now. That’s plenty of time to see the cruelty of the gods. I would have thought you, of all people, would be interested in seeking retribution.”

Percy thumbed Riptide’s cap, keeping wary eyes on the goddess in front of him.

Matt smiled without looking in her direction. “I think there are other ways than to collapse western civilization. I’ve been told about Kronos and his ilk.”

“Western civilization has its own crimes to answer for,” Nemesis said. “You know it, boy. Why, the chemical company that blinded you is a prime example of the sheer, reckless disregard it has for justice. We could build something better. It is time to balance the scales again.”

Matt was quiet for a little while longer this time, and Percy found himself holding his breath, resisting the urge to tap Riptide anxiously.

“I think you should go, my lady,” he said at last, voice soft and inoffensive. “It is clear we don’t see eye to eye.” He smiled mirthlessly. “If you’ll, ah, pardon the pun.”

“Are you certain?” Nemesis pressed, crossing one leg over the other. “Kronos’ army swells with the forgotten and neglected children of the gods. They’ve earned their chance at vengeance, and you’ve proven yourself an excellent agent of it. Or perhaps you would do it for your mother. The minor gods have long languished under the rule of Olympus.”

“He said no,” Percy said icily, breaking into the conversation without remorse. He met Nemesis’ eyes unflinchingly when she turned to look at him, and turned his hand over to expose the pen, thumb pressed against the cap. He thought he saw a flash of wariness before she turned away again.

“I did,” Matt agreed quietly. Nemesis shrugged.

“Oh well,” she said flippantly. She got to her feet, and her chair vanished again. “No real loss, I suppose. But it will be a shame to have one of my children with me and the other under the thumb of the Olympians.”

With that passing jab, she waved over her shoulder and walked back out the door. The second it closed behind her, the hallway started to glow, and then cut out, and Percy knew that she was gone.

He slouched in his seat and scowled.

“Gods,” he muttered, with more open scorn than he’d ever meant to let Sally hear from him. Sally was still staring at the door, lips pressed tightly together, looking unhappy but unsurprised. “Sorry, Matt. At least you know who your mother is now, I guess.”

Matt had leaned over, slumping with his head in his hands. “I... suppose I do.”

Foggy was also staring at the door. “Did she just- did your mom just show up, ask you to join Satan, and then leave?”

“Essentially,” Matt said, and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “I don’t know what I was expecting.” But he couldn’t quite hide his disappointment. “Percy, do you know...?”

“Ethan Nakamura,” Percy said, before he could finish the question. “Closer to my age than yours. He pledged himself to Kronos last summer.” He tugged on his bead necklace absently. “His mom took one of his eyes too. I guess she has a thing.”

“Man,” Foggy said, disgust and indignation creeping into his expression. “I can’t believe it was less awful when you thought you were an orphan.”

Something about the tension in the room released, and Matt chuckled.

“I suppose, for all intents and purposes, I still am,” he said wryly.

“I told you most gods make shitty parents,” Percy said, unable to resist. “Are you even planning on getting involved at all?”

“I don’t see why not,” said Matt, sounding surprised. “What, did you think I was going to stay out of it? You’re involved, and if nothing else, that makes it my business by proxy.” He smiled a little. “Maybe multiple proxies.”

“Wh- Matt, you’re ridiculous,” Foggy said, but he was smiling, too, looking oddly pleased.

“Percy,” Sally said softly, cutting across the levity. “What did she mean, Kronos is courting you?”

Percy winced. “It’s not a big deal,” he tried to assure her. “I’ve been having dreams, I guess. They’re more or less the same as the conversation Nemesis just had with Matt.” He waved his hand vaguely, and then scowled. “Kronos would just love for me to be with him instead of against him. Depending on the prophecy, that could be the last thing he needs.” He jerked his head irritably. “As if.”

“You’ve been having nightmares,” Sally said, with typical Mom-like perceptiveness. Percy winced, eyes unfocusing as his mind was drawn back to the Styx – dark, inky water closing over his head to blot out the light, an acrid taste filling his mouth.

“Those are about something else,” he said.

Chapter Text

“Militarism,” Ned said.

“Military something,” Percy sighed, leaning against the wall with a scowl. “Like, a country being really aggressive?”

“I mean, more or less,” Ned shrugged. “Glorification of the military. Animism.”

“Animals?” Percy guessed. “Uh. Really liking animals.” Ned couldn’t quite suppress his snicker in time, and Percy rolled his eyes. “Fine, tell me.”

“The belief that spirits inhabit the features of nature,” Ned said, checking the back of the flashcard.

“Dude,” Percy complained. Ned shrugged apologetically.

“That’s a key feature of Ancient Greek mythology, isn’t it?” Peter offered, though he was suppressing a smile too. “Animism and Ancient Greece. Like- tree nymphs and naiads and stuff. Does that help?”

“...Yeah,” Percy sighed, rubbing his face. “Stop laughing at me, I know I’m dumb.”

“Sorry!” Ned said sheepishly. “I’m not laughing at you having trouble, I’m laughing ‘cause you look like a dog walked up to you and stuck its butt in your face.”

Percy snorted. “Thanks. Feeling hungry yet? I want to stop thinking about old world philosophies.”

“Oh hell yeah,” Ned said, dropping the stack of flashcards. Peter was only a little slower, climbing to his feet.

“You sure you don’t want any help?” Peter asked, giving Percy a hand up. “I swear I’m not as bad a cook as my aunt. Not making any promises about Ned though.”

“I believe you,” Percy said, amused. “But don’t worry about it, I don’t mind. Thanks for helping me study even though I whine about it the whole time.”

The thing about Peter’s aunt was that she always really wanted to cook, she was just absolutely awful at it. It meant that Percy had a lot to work with as he rooted through the freezer, then the pantry to see what he could make, as long as he ignored the complaints as he pulled out cans of vegetables.

“You should get artichoke bottoms instead,” Percy said without thinking, moving to chop the hearts up anyway. “They taste the same but they’re not so stringy.”

“Uh, okay?” Peter said, bemused. “I’ll let Aunt May know.”

Percy gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry. It’s been just me and my mom for a couple years now, so I’ve had a lot of time to learn.” He tossed the chopped hearts in a bowl and grabbed some more. “Weren’t you gonna work on that Lego thing? You’ve got some time before this is done.”

“Leaving a houseguest alone is rude,” Peter said wisely. “Especially if they’re doing you a favor.” He grinned. “It’s fine. We can work on that anytime, right, Ned?”

“As long as we do actually get around to it,” Ned said, nudging him. “You’ve been so busy lately, we’ve barely had time to hang out.”

“Ned, we hang out four times a week.”

“Oh, in that case,” Percy said, barely suppressing a grin as he tossed spinach, artichoke, and some grated cheese into the pan, “how’s asking out Liz going?”

Peter sputtered, but Ned was grinning. “Yeah, Peter, how’s asking out Liz going?”

“Fine!” Peter yelped, voice cracking.

“Oh, so you’ve already done it,” Percy said, eyes glittering with mirth. “And she said yes?”

“No! I haven’t asked her yet!” Peter groaned and covered his face. “Don’t do this to me, man.”

Percy laughed at him, Ned only a second behind. “You’re doing it to yourself, dude. It’s not that hard.”

“Says you!” Peter complained. “You’re hot.”

Percy turned pink. “You mean I’m tan and I work out,” he dismissed, willing the heat out of his cheeks.

Peter blatantly, exaggeratedly checked Percy out, making him blush twice as hard. “No, I’m pretty sure you’re just hot.”

“You gotta own it,” Ned agreed. “It’s a waste of potential otherwise.”

Percy shook his head and focused on cooking to escape the embarrassment, but didn’t bother shaking the warmth out of his chest. It had only been a couple weeks since the start of the school year, but Percy liked to think he’d made pretty fast friends with Peter and Ned. Surprising, considering they were from such completely different social circles, but it turned out they were all three easygoing enough to let it slide. As a bonus, both of them seemed to consider it a point of pride to personally keep him from failing his freshman year.

Percy threw together enough pasta for all four of them, Peter’s Aunt May having come home while he was cooking, and they ended up in front of the television watching Star Wars. By the time he left to take a lazy, meandering route home, he was in a pretty good mood. He didn’t usually find friends he clicked with so well, but then, most of the time he was going to rich kid school.

He took his time heading home; his mom wouldn’t start to worry for a few hours, and Percy didn’t spend a lot of time in Queens. Before long, he started to catch sight of the local mask jumping between the rooftops; Percy silently nicknamed him Pajama Sam, and waved the next time he passed by, grinning when he waved back.

That might have been the end of it, Percy weaving around trying to tire himself out, if he hadn’t stumbled across the bank robbery.

At first he just stopped because it was, frankly, hilarious; the bank robbers had decided to commit their crime dressed as the Avengers, and from the sound of his quips, Pajama Sam found it just as funny as Percy did. Not especially concerned, Percy leaned against the brickwork and watched for a while. He thought the mask probably had some kind of super strength, but it was really the sticky stuff that was his prizewinner.

Then one of them brought out the big guns, and things got really out of hand, really fast. Almost faster than Percy could follow, blasts like the old chitauri weapons were going off, and he dove for cover on instinct. One blast went wide, veering wildly, and then it was over. When Percy looked up, the culprits were webbed, and Pajama Sam was bolting across the street toward the bodega that had been struck.

Without a second thought, Percy followed. The inside of the bodega was thick with smoke, but the mask seemed to know where he was going and pushed right through to the back. Between the two of them, not a word passing between them, they got the owner and his cat out.

“Look after him, I got the fire,” Percy said once they were free, then stifled a harsh cough – the smoke was worse than the forge gave off. If the mask replied, he didn’t hear it, planting himself back in the doorway to glance around. The fire hadn’t had time to spread yet; it was just smoke and dust.

Percy looked up and down the road before he found the nearest fire hydrant. He reached a hand out and beckoned impatiently, and something yanked at his gut. The cap of the fire hydrant popped off, and he reached out and pushed, directing the spray to hose down the hot spots.

“Dude, are you controlling the fire hydrant with your mind?” Pajama Sam whispered, making Percy jump in surprise. He smiled briefly without looking over.

“Just the water,” he said, most of his focus still on guiding the high-pressure spout. “Can you help me get the cap back on when I’m done? I’ve never used a fire hydrant before.”

“Uh, sure?”

A minute later, Percy was satisfied that the fire was out and the embers cool, and he clenched his fist to cork the fire hydrant. He immediately winced.

“Ow,” he muttered, heading back over to recap the fire hydrant. “That’s a really high-pressure pump.”

“How can you tell?” Pajama Sam asked, helping him screw the cap back on with much steadier hands. Percy gritted his teeth instead of answering, and didn’t relax until the cap was tight and he could let go of the water, which he did with a sigh of relief.

“Pressurized water doesn’t like being held back,” Percy said at last, straightening up. “But I figured leaving an open fire hydrant on the street would be rude.” He looked up, meeting the mask boy’s goggled eyes. “Thanks, but I’m gonna take off before those sirens catch up.”

“Um,” Pajama Sam said.

The next day, Percy found out that Peter was Pajama Sam, more or less by virtue of being five feet away and not actively ignoring him.

“That was you?” he asked, handing his homework forward to be passed to the front.

Peter stared at him. “I talked to you and everything!”

“You talked to him in costume?” Ned demanded, looking envious. Percy shrugged, embarrassed.

“I was more focused on the fire hydrant,” he said. “And the fire.”

“What fire hydrant? What fire? Why wasn’t I invited?” Ned protested.

“Percy wasn’t invited either,” Peter said. “He was hanging out across the street watching.”

Percy turned pink. “You saw that? Sorry. I thought it was funny that they’d dressed up as the Avengers to rob a bank, but it didn’t look like you needed help until the bodega blew up.”

Peter grinned a little. “Okay, yeah, it was funny until they brought the big gun out.”

“I’m so gonna need you to tell me the whole story at lunch,” Ned said.

Regardless of whether he had the full story yet, Ned pestered Peter with questions for the rest of the day. Peter fielded them, increasingly exasperated, and Percy tuned them both out as they bickered, an odd feeling coming over him the longer he listened.

He thought about the campers, huddling together for comfort after the invasion of their only safe haven, mourning their losses by the bonfire. About crawling through wreckage by moonlight, looking for a child’s corpse. He thought of the Ophiotaurus, and Tyson forging swords under the sea, and the heart-stopping glint of Kronos’ scythe. The bite of it. The molasses of Kronos’ time powers.

He stopped thinking about it.

“I can’t bring the Spider-Man suit to a party,” Peter hissed to Ned between sit-ups. “It’s not a party trick, and anyway the suit looks stupid! Trust me, it’d just embarrass both of us.”

“But you have super strength,” Ned hissed back, eyes wide with excitement, and Peter gave up and flashed him a grin.

At lunch, Peter relayed the story to Ned with only a cursory check to make sure no one was sitting too close. Even then, he was too excited himself to keep his voice properly low, and Percy might’ve smiled if he’d been in a better mood.

“Both of you have superpowers?” Ned said, sounding mildly betrayed. “I’m the weird one here?”

Percy didn’t know why that rubbed him the wrong way so bad – a sudden lurch of bitterness that served to highlight the odd disorientation that had followed him all morning. Peter, on the other hand, snickered.

“What are the odds, right?” he asked with amusement. “Maybe a spider will bite you too.”

“Yeah,” Ned said wistfully. “Wait, would that hurt? Peter, did it hurt? ...How much?”

“I dunno, Ned,” Peter said, exasperatedly fond. “Like a flu shot, I guess. And I was sick for a day or two, and then I had super strength. What about you, Percy? I don’t think you get water powers from being bitten by something.”

For once, Percy did not appreciate the inclusion. “Mine’s inherited,” he said shortly.

Peter paused, brow furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

Percy sighed and tried not to feel like a bratty, sullen teenager. “I’m trying not to ruin the mood,” he said. “The circumstances around my powers kind of suck, even if the powers themselves are really cool.”

Ned kicked him lightly under the table, grinning at him. “How bad can it be?” he asked teasingly. Percy turned his plastic fork over and contemplated his answer for a moment. How to make them shut up without actually upsetting them- or worse, making them curious.

“My father and both of his brothers swore not to have any children,” Percy said at last, carefully, without looking at either of them. “The last time one of them broke that promise, the daughter got hunted down and killed.”

“Oh,” Peter whispered. “Oh, I’m sorry, dude.”

He sounded like he meant it, too, which just made Percy wince. He managed a smile for them.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Just not a lighthearted topic for me. There’s no reason you two can’t have fun with it, you know?”

After a bit, they did keep going, if with somewhat reduced enthusiasm. Percy tuned them out again, and despite his own best efforts, he was out of sorts for the rest of the day. He declined their offer to go to Peter’s house and help with the Lego thing, and instead went straight home.

He was unlucky enough to beat his mom there, so he flopped onto the couch and moodily played Spirit Tracks, stewing in his thoughts.

What was bothering him so much about Peter and Ned’s behavior? They weren’t being particularly careless, considering how little was at stake for them, and they weren’t even being goofier than Percy would’ve expected from kids their age. They just... weren’t responding the way Annabeth might’ve, or Grover, or Thalia. Obviously they weren’t; all of them had been forced to grow up the hard way.

He stayed there for the next few hours, all the way until he heard the front door open. He sat up to look, and Sally, just closing the door behind her, jumped sharply in surprise.

“Percy!” she said, quickly relaxing into a warm smile. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home already. Did everything go alright at school?”

Percy shrugged and nodded, scooting aside to make room for his mom to settle on the couch beside him. She did, setting her bag down by her feet, and only when she looked at him again did her smile fade into concern.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, a little softer. “You look out of it.”

Percy wrinkled his nose and fiddled with the stylus for a minute, and finally burst out, “It’s stupid.” Sally reached out to squeeze Percy’s hand reassuringly, and that turned out to be all he needed to continue, “Peter and Ned were, um...” He grimaced, not wanting to explain the whole situation right away. “They were talking about powers, and they were having fun with it, obviously, you know how people do.” Percy rolled his shoulders, uncomfortable. “I don’t know why it’s bothering me.”

“It’s a very personal situation for you,” Sally pointed out, with a small, comforting smile. “What happened?”

“I dunno,” Percy mumbled, turning Sally’s hand over so he could fiddle with her fingers. “It’s just... they’re such kids. I mean- I know we’re the same age and stuff, but...” Percy wrinkled his nose and repeated, “I don’t know why it’s bothering me. They’re fourteen, they’re supposed to be like that. They’re just so childish.”

Sally’s free hand went almost immediately to Percy’s hair, stroking it in a slow and soothing motion that made him sigh. When he looked up, her expression was soft with understanding, because of course she immediately understood.

“It’s natural to feel a little jealous, or even bitter,” she said gently. She tugged at a lock of his hair, and he knew without looking that it was the grey one. “You were robbed of the most innocent parts of your childhood; that’s not fair to you. I’m not surprised that seeing other children your age hurts sometimes.”

Percy scowled. “It’s stupid. It’s a good thing that they’re kids. I shouldn’t be angry about it.”

Sally bumped him with her shoulder, eyes soft. “You’re allowed to be angry about your own misfortune, Percy. Sometimes I am too.”

As usually, his mom knew exactly what to say to make Percy feel better, and some of the anger drained out of him, leaving him tired instead. He shifted again to lean against her. “Apparently last year Peter got bit by a spider that gave him super strength and sticky hands. Ned found out last night and thinks it’s the coolest thing ever.”

Sally stifled a giggle. “Oh, dear. There really are all sorts of ways to acquire powers, aren’t there?”

Percy shot her a wry smile. “Still only two, I think. Peter said that the spider was part of another damn super soldier experiment.” He set his head down. “Anyway, Peter’s been running around in like, a hoodie and sweatpants that he sewed together to make a hero costume. I think he’ll be okay as long as he sticks to petty criminals.”

Sally’s smile faded into worry. “That’s an awful lot of responsibility to take on at his age... I hope he’s doing alright with it. Superhuman abilities won’t keep him safe on their own.”

Percy nodded. “He’s keeping it low-key for now. I think it’s because he’s embarrassed about his costume instead of because he has sense, but like, whatever works.”

Sally laughed, and Percy gave her a grin, then retrieved his DS to keep playing, now in a much better mood.

After dinner, Percy went wading into the East River. It had become kind of an idle activity for him, something to do when he felt restless but didn’t really want to do anything. When the mood struck him, he’d take a net bag – yes, he was aware of the irony – and trudge along the bottom.

See, the East River and the Hudson were always filthy. Shredded grocery bags flitted around the current, and broken bottles made the riverbed glitter. Plastic drink cups were everywhere, half-buried or bobbing along, and chunks of plastic packaging did the same. It wasn’t much, but it made Percy feel better to take his net bag and fill it with garbage. He’d sort through it later; a landfill wasn’t great either, but it was better than leaving the stuff in the river.

It was a little less calming now than it usually was. He kept thinking of the Styx and getting a thick lump in his throat, and he had to look up to remind himself the water was murky but not suffocating.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when something plunged into the water, sending a shower of bubbles swirling around it. His first thought was that someone had thrown another damn bottle in – it wouldn’t have been the first time – or maybe something bigger, like a box. But then his eyes fixed on the object, starting to thrash and struggle, and before he could think twice he was lunging forward, one arm catching around the person’s waist while his legs kicked them up through the water.

They broke the surface of the water before Percy realized who it was and blurted out, “Pajama Sam?”

“W-what?” Peter coughed out, legs flailing uselessly and one arm clinging tightly to Percy’s shirt. Percy flushed, kicking them over to the nearest shore to haul Peter onto land.

“I don’t think ten at night’s the time to practice your diving skills, man,” Percy said, pushing Peter away to check him over for injuries. He was clearly scraped up, holes in his makeshift suit where none had been before, but mostly intact. “What happened?”

Peter looked down, then up at Percy, then down again at his dry costume; Percy could almost see him blinking owlishly behind his goggles. “...Weren’t we just at the bottom of the river?”

“I have powers over water, we went over this,” Percy said, a little defensively. He tugged at the net bag, dragging it further along the dock to keep it close. It wasn’t as full as he liked to get it, but he suspected he was done picking up trash for the night. “Dude, what happened?”

“I tried to break up an arms deal,” Peter said, tugging awkwardly at his sewn-up hood, voice muffled by the fabric. “Stumbled across the guys that were selling those alien weapons, you know? But, uh, they had backup. And the backup picked me up and dropped me in the river.”

“You’re lucky that’s all they did,” Percy scolded, feeling like an overbearing mother hen. He patted Peter down anyway, wincing where his hands came away sticky with blood, even if it was clearly just from scrapes. “Let’s get you home so you can wash those cuts. The East River is filthy, they’re going to get infected.”

“Are you my Uncle Ben in disguise?” Peter asked him, and then flinched and fell silent. Percy pretended not to notice.

“I’ve been helping with the younger campers for two years now, you pick up some habits,” he said, rising to his feet and giving Peter a hand up. “Seriously, did you get in a fight with a rose bush? Your clothes are wrecked, dude.”

“I got dragged along behind a car for a while,” Peter admitted sheepishly. “I’m gonna need to do all sorts of patching up, huh?”

“Uh, no,” Percy said firmly. “What you need is some actual equipment.”

Chapter Text

“I don’t know why you think I’m in any way qualified to help with this,” Matt said, dressed in full Daredevil regalia and frowning. “I’m not exactly a professional superhero myself, Percy.”

“You got hold of a costume somehow,” Percy said defensively. “And Spider-Man needs anything, literally anything that’s not...” He waved at Peter, who made an offended sound.

“It works!”

“It hides your identity,” Percy said. “It sure as hell doesn’t protect you from getting cut up by stones when you get dragged along behind a car.”

Matt sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, alright, I know a guy.”

“Why does Daredevil know you?” Peter hissed at Percy, as they followed Matt through the alleys. “Know you, and like you this much? I hear Daredevil doesn’t like anybody.”

“I’m a vigilante, not a street performer,” Matt tossed over his shoulder. Peter winced.

“Sorry, sir!”

“We met during the Fisk thing,” Percy explained. “He saved my ass a couple times.”

“You about gave me a heart attack when I heard you start asking around for Fisk,” Matt told him. Percy smiled sheepishly.

“Not my brightest moment,” he admitted. “But I was upset even before threats started getting thrown around. Looking back, I’m kinda surprised I didn’t just melt down on the spot.”

“I’m guessing that wouldn’t have been pretty.”

“No,” Percy agreed fervently.

Eventually they ended up in a workshop, where Matt introduced them to Melvin, a large but skittish man who reminded Percy strongly of Tyson. Melvin was willing enough to help once Matt explained the situation, and he immediately started taking measurements.

“I’ve always wanted to make superhero costumes,” he admitted shyly, patting Peter to let his arms down. “This is a dream come true.”

“Better than working for Fisk?” Matt asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Definitely!” Melvin agreed.

“So what were you working on?” Matt asked Peter, and Peter somehow both perked up with excitement and turned serious.

“Well, uh, a couple days ago I ran into these bank robbers with some crazy weapons...”

“Does Peter ever stop talking?” Matt asked Percy. Percy snickered and shook his head.

“Only when he and Ned are playing with Legos,” he said. “I’m pretty sure they communicate telepathically when they do that.”

Matt shook his head, looking fondly amused. “He’s been calling me every day to talk about the most inane things. Getting ice cream on patrol, finding a lost bike.”

“Do you want me to ask him to stop?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Matt said quickly, though he looked a little embarrassed. “It’s cute, to be honest. I’m glad he still finds time to be a child even when he’s taken on the task he has.”

Percy hummed. “How’s that going?”

He wasn’t really following Peter and Matt’s crusade against the arms dealers; he had enough on his plate already, helping keep track of patrols and enemy movement and supplies. He was even running down to camp every Saturday now, giving extra swordplay lessons to the younger campers. One of Annabeth’s brothers usually did it, but it turned out that Percy was an okay teacher too.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Matt said. “I tracked down a man yesterday, Eric Davis, and he gave me some information. Apparently there’s an arms deal planned on a ferry down the East River. Peter and I were going to go break it up. You want in on it?”

“Uh, not especially,” Percy said, bemused. “Why?”

Matt winced, giving Percy a slightly sheepish smile. “It’s your element,” he said. “And I thought it would be good to have you there to look after Peter.”

“Oh,” Percy said. “In that case, sure.”

So Percy found himself on a ferry, tucked into a corner to watch the other two work. Matt was in plainclothes – it was broad daylight, after all – and Peter, in his new spandex-looking suit, was hiding over the edge. As Percy watched, Matt wandered around the deck, subtly marking out each armed man, and then finally came to a decisive halt. Matt rapped out a pattern on the deck, and Peter moved.

Watching Peter work was as interesting as before. He was fast enough to dodge fire, agile and much more graceful in his new outfit, and he was able to web most of the weapons to the ground in minutes. He was better than before, too – Matt must have been training him.

The accident came when someone brought out an alien weapon like a machine gun, and it got stuck on ‘fire.’ In seconds, Percy saw it set its prison ablaze from the inside, and then burst through, firing violently in a terrifying arc that cut through the boat like a laser through glass. Matt jerked forward impotently, reaching out as if to stop it, and then froze.

The weapon fell silent, spent or satisfied, and the boat split with a groan.

“Oh no,” Matt whispered.

Percy looked around, eyes wide. Gods, the ferry was packed, and people were already screaming and pushing around like a mass of ants, terrified by the attack. Peter was darting back and forth between the halves, trying to web them together, but it was clear it wouldn’t work; he couldn’t web fast enough, and strands were bursting only seconds after he left them behind.

Crystal clear, Percy remembered the Queen Anne’s Revenge. He remembered pointing at the sails and watching them unfurl, and steering it with only a thought.

Adrenaline flooded his veins, and Percy lunged for the wall, pressed his hands against the hull, and yanked. His gut pulled so tight it felt like it was about to tear, and he grunted. The two halves of the boat snapped back together and held there.

In an odd decrescendo, the ferry fell deadly quiet, everyone taken aback by the sudden turn of events. All Percy could hear was his own labored breath.

“The dock,” he rasped at last, without opening his eyes. “Where’s the fucking dock.”

Matt inhaled sharply, and then Percy felt a hand on his back, steady and reassuring. “Four o’clock, but there are two boats in the way.”

“I’ve got them,” Percy muttered, and yanked again with a grunt. The boat tipped harshly, and there were a few more screams as people stumbled and fell into each other. The boat turned on the spot until it was facing the dock, and then he pushed it ahead, sweeping the other two boats aside.

There was a patter of footsteps behind him. “Percy, I’m so sorry, what’s happening, what’s wrong, DD what’s wrong-”

“Shut up,” Percy hissed at the wall, and Peter fell silent. Percy sucked in another labored breath. He was shoving so much effort into manipulating the boat that his head felt hollow and his ears were ringing. Muscles that didn’t exist were quickly getting sore.

“Percy’s holding the boat together,” Matt explained quietly. “It’s taking a lot out of him, but we’ll worry about that when everyone’s on shore.”

“Okay,” Peter said in a small voice. “DD, I’m-”

“I know,” Matt interrupted. “We’ll talk later.”

A few more people tried to approach after that – nearby civilians that were concerned about the grunts Percy was starting to make, one or two that had deduced what was happening. Matt headed them off, letting Percy focus on getting them all to safety.

Finally, they bumped up against the dock, and Percy yanked open the side door and let it bounce down onto the wood. The crowd didn’t hesitate before rushing down it to safer pastures.

Percy watched them all flood away, not with his eyes but through his preternatural awareness of the boat. The flood slowed to a stream and then a trickle, and then it was just him, Peter, and Matt.

“Everyone’s off, Percy,” Matt said softly. “Let’s go.”

Percy nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I’ll just...” He pried himself away from the wall and opened his eyes. With most of his attention still tied up in holding the boat together, he barely saw his surroundings at all, but he could see Matt and Peter in front of him. “Let’s go.”

Matt grabbed his elbow to tug him along when it became clear that Percy was too disoriented to do the navigating himself, and they scurried off the cracking boat, conspicuously after everyone else.

The second they stepped off the ramp, Percy let go of the ferry with a shuddering gasp of relief, and its halves split again. A few people screamed from the shore and dock, but Percy ignored them in favor of calming the water around the sinking vessel.

“What do we do now?” Peter asked, making a distressed noise as he leaned over and watched the boat slowly sink into the river.

Percy exhaled, unfairly frustrated by the situation. “Let’s go back to my apartment,” he said. “I think we have to do some damage control.”

Sally took one look at Percy as he came through the door, and said kindly, “Why don’t you tell me what happened and then go cool down in your room?”

Gods, Percy loved his mom. He reached up and yanked at his hair, still irate. “I’m not a part of this,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to deal with stupid Chitauri arms dealers. I’m not doing it.” He exhaled, and then, more calmly, added, “I went to help Peter and Matt with something and it kinda went sideways. I’m gonna sleep for a bit.”

“You do that,” Sally said reassuringly, and then turned to Matt and Peter, both looking sheepish, while Percy retreated.

Percy flopped onto his bed and flipped on his stereo, music playing at a low enough volume not to bother his mom. He put his head down and practiced the stupid breathing techniques school counselors kept teaching him. Slowly, the feeling dulled, even if his irritation lingered, buzzing around his temples.

It was maybe unfair to be mad at Peter and Matt when he had agreed to go, even knowing what they were doing, but damn it, now there was going to be all sorts of damage control, and follow-up, and Percy didn’t want to participate in any of it. He didn’t want this stuff to be his damn problem. He had enough problems!

Restless, exhausted bitching slowly slid into half-dreams, increasingly nonsensical as he slipped further into sleep, and he felt better by the time a knock woke him up. He scrunched up his face when he registered the chorus of voices from the living room, way more than he’d expected.

“Mr. Stark, I don’t really know enough legal terms to understand this.”

“I’ve got it,” Foggy said. “I’ve been getting a lot of practice explaining legal jargon.”

“Percy? Are you up yet?”

Percy pushed himself upright and went for the door, rubbing his face. “Why’s Tony here?” he asked his mom.

“He’s handling everything,” Sally explained. “The cookies just came out of the oven, do you want to come out?”

Percy flashed Sally a grateful grin. Blue cookies: always Sally’s first resort when it came to cheering Percy up. Outside of a hug, that is. “Thanks. Yeah, I’ll come out. How crowded is it?”

“Pretty crowded,” Sally said ruefully. “You might want to sit in the corner.”

Percy hummed in agreement and followed Sally toward the kitchen, where he took advantage of his mild heat resistance to sit on the counter and swipe a fresh cookie off the tray. Sally shook her head at him, looking fond, and he grinned at her.

“Feeling better?” she asked, amused. Percy nodded.

“Just needed some sleep,” he said. “Is Peter alright?”

“Just fine,” Sally assured him. “The Avengers are taking him and Matt under their supervision – Percy, I assume you knew about Matt?” Percy shrugged, smiling sheepishly, and Sally only looked fond. “I’ll let one of them explain the details, but it’s all going to be alright, and you shouldn’t have to get involved anymore.”

“Thank the gods,” Percy sighed, biting into his cookie. “What are they doing now?”

“Matt insisted on formal contracts,” Sally said, “so they’re ironing out those details.”

Percy nodded absently, gaze wandering off to the moonlace blooming by the window. He reached out to brush his fingers through it, thinking fleetingly of Ogygia.

“Mom?” he asked without looking at her. “If everything goes wrong next summer, will it be my fault?”

He wasn’t especially surprised when he immediately felt arms wrap around him, and melted into the hug for a minute before he reluctantly pulled away. Sally combed her fingers through his hair and kept hold of his hand.

“No, sweetheart,” Sally said, softly and with unwavering confidence. “The threads of Fate were spun out long before you were a wriggle in my tummy. I know you’ll do everything you can, and if that’s not enough, then it was never in your hands in the first place.”

Percy wasn’t sure that was true at all, but he hugged her anyway, blatantly seeking comfort before he let go and all at once returned to the topic at hand.

“I’m gonna keep looking after Peter when I can,” he told her, glancing into the other room. “But I’m not gonna be a street vigilante. Promise. I just really, really don’t want to open that can of worms.”

Sally sighed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I won’t say I’m not relieved,” she said wryly. “Are you sure Peter will be alright? From what Foggy tells me, Matt isn’t exactly a paragon of self-care. I wouldn’t want Peter to take on a similar mentality.”

“I’m kinda impressed that you said that with a straight face when you know he can hear you,” Percy admitted, grinning a little as he heard a sudden snort from the other room. “But no, Matt’s been really careful with Peter so far. Doesn’t want him taking on too much too fast, I think. Is that why you called Tony?”

“No,” Sally said, suddenly looking sheepish. “It was the best way I could think of to make sure everything was handled well before you had to worry about it any more. I’m grateful he agreed to come out.”

“He’s nice,” Percy said quietly, and then he finished his second cookie, grabbed a third, and slid off the counter. “Alright, I’m gonna go see what’s happening. But then I might just go skateboarding. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Sally said. “Just be careful, alright?”

Percy smiled a little. “Mmhm. I will.”

He stepped into the living room, and did his best to put everything out of his mind. He didn’t have a lot of spare room in there these days.

Chapter Text

“Dude, you know Daredevil and the Avengers and you didn’t say anything?” Ned protested, sounding betrayed.

Percy felt like crawling under the bed and staying there. “I’m just trying to get through freshman year,” he said, dropping his chin into his arms to watch the Lego structure his friends were working on. “It’s not fun for me, okay? I mean- I know why you’re excited, I totally get that, and I’m glad Peter liked meeting them, you’ll probably get a chance at some point too. But I told you my deal with superpower stuff and it mostly just means I’m going to die. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

That was a whole lot more than he’d meant to say, but it was definitely a rant that had been building up for a while. Both Peter and Ned looked cowed and apologetic, and Percy winced, stretched out on his belly and kicking his feet behind him.

“Sorry, man,” Peter said quietly. “I guess we kinda forgot.”

Percy managed a smile for him. “It’s fine. You’re kids, it’s not like it’s weird for you to be excited about stuff.” He tapped the ground, trying to shape his thoughts into words. “I mean... my life is fucked up, but that doesn’t mean you should feel bad that yours isn’t, you know?”

Peter and Ned looked at each other, communicating telepathically, and then back to him and Peter nodded with a grin. “Sure,” Peter said cheerfully, and then, “Hey, you should come here and work on this with us. It’s gotta be boring just watching.”

Percy scrunched up his nose. “What if I fuck it up? You’ve been working on this for two weeks.”

“These sets are expensive, man,” Peter said. “If it falls apart, we’ll get twice as much playtime for it, right, Ned?”

Ned snickered. “Yeah, I guess. Uh, still don’t do it on purpose, though.”

Percy smiled a little, scooted forward, and tried to pay attention while Ned walked him through what they were doing right now. Almost an hour passed with all three of them quietly clicking things into place – though Peter took to giving Percy chunks to assemble so he could roll and flop around while he was working on them, going from his side to his back to sitting up to belly-down – before Percy thought of something.

“Hey, you two have been looking for stuff to pad your resumes with, right?”

“College applications,” Ned corrected, but he was sitting up, bright-eyed. “You find something good?”

Percy shrugged, face heating a little despite himself.

“Just an idea,” he said. “Mom’s been running a lot of fundraisers lately, bake sales and stuff, but she’s setting up her first art exhibition for two months from now. I thought maybe you could help out. I’ll be there too. Volunteer work is good for that stuff, right?”

“Totally,” Peter said earnestly. “What’s it for?”

“Domestic violence resources,” Percy said, focusing too hard on the Lego construction in front of him. “Mom diversified a bit this time, so there’s a couple different sections, but I remember there’s a shelter, a legal aid organization, and a counseling service that the money’s going to.”

“How does an art exhibition make money?” Ned asked, frowning at the Lego starship. “I’ve never been to one.”

“There’s an admission fee, and some people donated art for an art auction,” Percy explained, put his current chunk down, and gestured for another that Peter passed off to him. He sat up. “And there’s a bake sale too. Mom says that there should be snacks there.” Also, he and his mom had been baking together a lot lately, and that was easier when they always had baking that needed done. Rachel had been providing most of the money for ingredients.

“You should talk to the office about putting up some announcements or something,” Peter said, and cursed when a precarious section he’d tacked on fell and shattered. Percy waited for him to pick up the pieces before poking him, and Peter took a moment to remember what he’d been saying. “Uh, Midtown is a pretty upper-middle-class school for the most part, so it can’t hurt to pull some of them in.”

Percy gave Peter a surprised glance, and then smiled. “I’ll do that. Thanks.”

They worked for a while longer. Peter and Ned got into an argument about some Star Wars TV show, and Percy migrated to sit on Peter’s desk, still taking the small sections he was given to piece them together.

“Tony gave you a new suit, didn’t he, Peter?” Percy asked at last, gingerly opening that topic back up for discussion. Peter brightened immediately, and Ned gave Peter an excited look.

“Yeah! I mean, I’m still super grateful to DD for taking me to that Melvin guy, but this suit is so cool, dude, it’s got a bunch of different kinds of webshooters and Mr. Stark is gonna help me integrate my formula into it, and it’s got reinforcements all over so it’s sturdier than even the new one-”

Percy smiled a little, letting Peter chatter, and tried to remember if Tony had mentioned when he was going to brief Peter about the whole Titan War thing. If Percy was lucky, it wasn’t going to happen at all, but Percy was never lucky.

Percy fell out of bed, panting and sweating.

He immediately started to swear, fighting to get free of his blankets, and didn’t realize how much noise he was making until he heard a soft knock on the door.

“No, dear, why don’t you make some popcorn?” Sally murmured offside, probably addressing Foggy. “I have a feeling we’ll be up for a while.”

Foggy said something inaudible, and Percy swallowed a couple times, pulled himself free, and called out, “Come in.” His heart was racing in his chest, thrumming hard enough for Percy to count the beats.

Sally peeked through, sleep-mussed and concerned, and her eyes, soft with concern, immediately landed on Percy. After a second, she went through and sat down beside him, taking his hand to squeeze reassuringly. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Percy grumbled and nodded, most of his mind still lingering on the dream. “Yeah... sorry for waking you up.”

“I never mind,” Sally said, scooting to put her arm around him. He leaned in without thinking, letting out a sigh. “Do you want to tell me about your dream?”

A shudder ran through Percy’s body, and he pressed against her, trying to focus on her warmth. “In a minute,” he mumbled, still breathing hard.

Sally murmured soothingly, and with the ease of long practice, coaxed him to his feet and out into the living room. Foggy had filled a bowl with his makeshift trail mix, popcorn and pretzels and all-blue m&ms, and he offered it to them when they sat down. Percy managed a grin for him and took a handful, and picked through it while he tried to organize his thoughts.

“It was one of those dreams,” he said at last, without looking at either of them. It was still dead dark, something about the night stifling sounds even when they were present. “There was a bubble around Manhattan, and all the campers were inside it, everyone else outside. Manhattan was swarming with monsters.” Sally hummed, soft and encouraging, and Percy picked out an m&m to eat before he continued. “Typhon was standing over the city, and someone I didn’t recognize was facing Luke.” Pretzel, m&m. “Athena... said that to save a friend, I would sacrifice the world.” He picked another pretzel up, but couldn’t bring himself to eat it, just fidgeting with it instead. “I fought against Tony and Steve, and... a bald woman told me that my instincts come from the oldest magic, and if I don’t trust them, I could lose everything.”

He stopped, staring down at his hands, and after a couple minutes, Foggy whistled.

“That’s a wicked nightmare,” he said sympathetically. He shifted, like he was gearing up to continue, but Sally set a hand on his arm and shook her head. Percy pulled his feet under him.

“Demigod dreams tend to be prophetic,” she explained in an undertone, “Percy’s more than most.” Foggy stared at her, and Sally smiled sadly and looked at Percy. “You know that it may not have been what it looked like, Percy. The situation is always more than it appears.”

Percy nodded. “But it looked really, really bad,” he mumbled, stomach churning. He squirmed and buried his face in her shoulder. “Typhon. I woke Typhon. He’s huge, Mom. The size of a mountain.”

Sally hugged him, humming into his hair. “It was out of your control, Percy,” she said softly. “You were fighting for your life.”

Privately, Percy thought that in that case, he should have just let it happen – but he knew better than to say that to his mom, so he stayed silent and tucked against her.

“Why would I be fighting Steve and Tony?” he asked instead, without looking at either of them. “How much do I have to mess up to get to that point?”

“You don’t have the full story,” Sally reminded him, reaching down to squeeze his hand. “Maybe they were being controlled. Maybe they didn’t have enough information. Maybe it was a ruse. You don’t know, sweetheart.”

“And hey,” Foggy added, leaning over. Apparently he’d regained his bearings. “If Captain America and Iron Man and people you don’t know were there, that, uh, that bubble can’t have meant much. You and the other kids weren’t alone after all.”

Percy unwound a little, though the despondency didn’t completely leave him. “Yeah...”

“You should tell Tony,” Sally added, kissing his forehead when he tensed. “You know he’s been making plans to try and take the burden off the children. Maybe he can plan for that bubble you saw.”

Percy made an unhappy noise, but nodded.

“Sorry,” he muttered after a moment. “I’ve been spending way too much time sulking lately.”

“You’re having a hard time right now,” Foggy said, making Percy turn to look at him. Foggy smiled a little and waved his hands aimlessly. “It happens, you don’t have to be sorry for it. You’re allowed to be upset when bad things happen.”

Percy half-smiled,  glancing up to catch Sally’s warm, grateful smile, and sat up a little against her. “I’ll talk to Tony tomorrow,” he said with more confidence. “He might be able to find the two people I didn’t recognize and figure out who they are. Um, can we put on that movie about the Great Barrier Reef?”

“The documentary, you mean?” Foggy teased, but he turned the television on.

Percy fell asleep halfway through the documentary, and woke up with a crick in his neck, still curled up against Sally with Sally asleep on Foggy, who was snoring. It was day by then, early but not quite dawn – about the time Percy usually woke up at camp, Percy guessed. Also, Foggy’s phone was ringing from Sally’s bedroom.

Percy went to pick it up, glancing at the caller ID before he accepted and said, “Hey, it’s Percy. Foggy’s asleep, you want me to go wake him up?”

“Percy!” Matt echoed in surprise, and after a moment his voice turned rueful. “No, it’s fine – it’s about the Rojas case, but it can wait. Everything alright over there?”

Everything was great. Percy had a nightmare and woke everybody up for the third time this week. “Fine. Hey, is it true that your dad was a boxer?”

The slightly-too-long pause told Percy he might have tumbled into a touchy subject. “Yes, he was. Why do you ask?”

“Sorry,” Percy said before he could stop himself, and rocked on his heels, embarrassed and uncomfortable. “Um, I was wondering if you could teach me. Celestial bronze doesn’t work on mortals, and I don’t, um, I don’t like...”

“You don’t like being defenseless,” Matt finished for him, surprisingly understanding.

“...Yeah.” He squirmed. “I know I’m not supposed to harm mortals, but...”

“I can give it a try, if your mother clears it,” Matt said, when Percy didn’t finish his thought. “But don’t they give unarmed combat lessons at camp?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, more confidently. “But the big one at camp is wrestling, and I don’t really have the muscle for that. Boxing seems more my style anyway.”

“Ask Sally,” Matt said. Percy thought he could hear a smile in his voice. “There’s an old gym in Hell’s Kitchen where I can teach you after hours. Though I warn you, I’ve never tried teaching before.”

Percy relaxed and grinned. “That’s alright. Thanks, Matt. You want me to let Foggy know you called?”

“Please, if you don’t mind.”

Chapter Text

“Firm up your stance,” Matt instructed, tapping his cane against the ground with a thoughtful frown. It echoed in the vacant gym. “Boxers aren’t as mobile as swordsmen, and your blocks need to be solid. You’ll be shifting your weight mainly between your back and front foot rather than moving around.”

Frowning, Percy shifted his weight, trying to plant himself more firmly. “Like this?”

“Good,” Matt confirmed, circling a little closer. “When you throw a punch, you want to put your weight behind the punch. Stay on your back foot for defense, your front foot for offense.”

Percy shifted again, and then, decisively, pulled back his fist and swung. The chain on the heavy bag rattled, and he sidestepped it with a yelp. “Hey, I thought you said the heavy bags didn’t swing back!”

Matt didn’t answer right away, and when Percy looked back at him, he was frowning.

“I thought you said you didn’t have the strength for wrestling?” he questioned.

“Uh, I don’t?” Percy said, glancing apprehensively at the flailing bag. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Can I touch your arm for a moment?” Matt asked. Percy held it out, and Matt stepped forward, clasping his hand lightly around the bicep. “Flex.” Percy did, confused. “Percy, from the density of your muscles, I’d say you’re stronger than most grown men. You could probably beat Brett in a straight arm-wrestling match.”

“You can hear that?” Percy asked, impressed. Matt smiled sheepishly.

“It’s mostly tactile, in this case.” He let go of Percy and stepped back. “Unless you’re planning to get into hand-to-hand fights with a lot of well-trained fighters, I think you’re fine.”

“Oh.” Percy’s shoulders slumped. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

Matt seemed to sense the shift in mood. “I’m not saying I won’t teach you. But it seems like it’s more about confidence than anything else. Against Fisk – you froze up, didn’t you? You weren’t pushing back at all.”

“I pushed back,” Percy protested, crossing his arms. Then, reluctantly, he admitted, “But yeah. I guess I panicked.”

Matt nodded thoughtfully. “Sparring might help with that,” he said. “Holding your own against other people without a sword in your hand.” Percy shifted uncomfortably. “Or not. It won’t hurt to have this in your skillset either way.”

Percy relaxed. “Thanks. Uh, what was wrong with how I hit the bag?”

“That- oh.” Matt chuckled, gesturing for him to get back into position. “Heavy bags- well. Watch.”

Perpendicular from Percy, Matt hit the heavy bag, a much more precise strike than Percy’s sloppy right hook. The bag jostled, but didn’t swing.

“Oh.” Startled, Percy looked down at his arms. They weren’t scrawny anymore, not like they had been when he was a kid, but they weren’t as muscular as Matt’s either.

“Back on topic,” Matt said with finality, shifting to stand beside Percy. “You don’t need to pull your fist back like that. It doesn’t add anything to your punch, and it tells your opponent what you’re about to do. Start from your core, rock forward, and jab. Put your weight behind the punch.”

He punched the air beside the punching bag. Percy watched until he pulled back, then took a deep breath and tried to imitate him. The bag recoiled with another deafening rattle, and Percy had to sidestep it again as it swung back toward him. Matt stepped into place and caught it, bracing the bag from behind.

“That was better,” he said. “Try it with your left.”

They practiced like that for a while, jabs and hooks and a couple of simple combos, before conversation started back up.

“What made you say wrestling wasn’t for you?” Matt asked, still bracing the heavy bag. “I get the impression you still practice a fair amount of it.”

“Yeah, I do.” One, one, two. The wraps felt odd around Percy’s knuckles, but at least his knuckles weren’t bleeding. “I usually come out on bottom of those matches, literally. I mean, as a rule I only seriously spar against Ares and Athena kids, and I can make up that difference in swordplay, but wrestling? No way in hell.”

“What difference?” Matt asked.

“Ares and Athena are gods of war,” Percy explained. “They’re the best fighters.”

Matt was starting to smile, like Percy was telling him a funny joke. “And... why do you only spar against those kids?”

“It’s not really fair otherwise,” Percy said reasonably, and then realized what Matt was getting at. “Oh- I never thought of it like that, I guess.”

“Foggy used to tell me that if you’re at the bottom of the best class, you’re still in the best class,” Matt told him. And then, “You’re slowing down. Need a break?”

“My hands are kind of sore,” Percy admitted.

“Break,” Matt decided, moving to sit at the edge of the ring. He gestured for Percy to join him, and Percy did, flexing his hands under the tight wrap.

“Is this how you were trained?” Percy asked, after gulping down half his water bottle.

“Let’s assume that I want to train you as unlike how I was trained as possible,” Matt told him. Percy winced.

“Oh, you had that kind of teacher.” He screwed the lid back on. “Chiron says he’s never understood do-or-die teachers. Something about making heroes that are really strong on the outside and really fragile on the inside.”

Matt leaned back, staring straight ahead. “Sounds like a wise man.”

“I sure hope so,” Percy said. “He’s like, ten thousand years old.”

Matt laughed.

“How’s setup for the art exhibition going?” he asked. “That’s next weekend, isn’t it?”

Percy brightened. “Yeah! Mom says Rachel paid for the venue and stuff already, and we have the setup all mapped out, plus all the tables and displays and stuff.” He kicked his feet happily. “Steve even donated a big piece for display and a couple of smaller ones for the auction.”

“I didn’t know he did big pieces,” Matt said. Percy nodded.

“Mr. Barnes says he doesn’t do a lot of them,” he said. “He was working on this one special, but he wants it back afterward because it’s for Bucky.”

“That’s nice of him.”

“Mom almost cried.” Percy grinned a little and kicked his feet again. “Peter and Ned promised to help set up and stuff, and they helped me put up some flyers around the school too. They’ve been really cool about it.”

“Peter’s looking forward to it,” Matt told him. “He asked me last week if I was going to come.”

Percy laughed. “He asked you if you were going to come to an art exhibition?”

Matt chuckled. “I might, even if it’s just for moral support. But yes, I’m not sure my input will be especially valuable.”

Percy shrugged. “Mom and Foggy would both be pleased to see you there.”

Matt’s smile turned more genuine. “Then I don’t see why I wouldn’t.”

Both of them were quiet for a minute. Percy finished his water bottle, and Matt gestured for him to go refill it. He looked at the posters as he passed by, and caught more than one with the name Murdock on it. By the time he returned, his mind had drifted, and he wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Hey, Matt? Can I ask you a question?”

Matt picked up on the change in tone and frowned, shifting slightly to look more alert. “Sure. What is it?”

Percy shuffled uncomfortably, sat a few feet away, and drank some more water.

“Foggy said,” he said at last, “that you told him you had the devil in you. Is... is that a temper thing? You get angry a lot?”

Matt’s expression creased with concern, and he shifted to face Percy. “I wouldn’t hurt you,” he told Percy, soft and serious. “I don’t hurt children.”

That actually did make Percy feel better, even if it had nothing to do with his real question. “I know. I, um... I wanted to know how you know that you’re not gonna hurt Foggy.” Afraid that Matt would take it the wrong way, he elaborated hastily, “I’ve always had a really bad temper too, and I worry a lot that I’ll accidentally take it out on one of my friends. I don’t want to do that.”

Matt made a quiet sound of comprehension and leaned back against the platform, thinking. After a moment, he said, “No one’s ever accused me of being well-adjusted, but... what I do is, I make sure to handle it before it gets to that point. That’s one of the reasons I put on the mask. To make sure I only hurt people that deserve it.”

That... actually explained a lot about Matt. “Like monsters?”

“Monsters have been a good target lately too,” Matt agreed. Percy almost smiled.

“Okay,” he said, feeling better about it. “Can we go back to learning how to punch? I think the water fixed up my knuckles.”

To his dismay, once the day itself arrived, Percy found the bustling crowd to be a little overwhelming. He was a people person, and Chiron had been teaching him a lot of leadership skills, but he wasn’t a crowd person.

“What kind of New York City kid are you?” Peter teased, helping clear away some cups that had been abandoned.

“One that jabs people in the ribs if they get in my space,” Percy deadpanned back, but his mood stayed high as he moved through the displays.

The turnout was pretty good, way better than Percy had expected. The artists that had offered to share their work were amazing, and while Percy wasn’t usually much of an art person, he couldn’t help but stop to marvel at the displays every so often. His mom was at the snack table, fielding questions in between sales; Percy knew she had a speech later that she was really nervous about, but you wouldn’t have known it looking at her.

Sally hadn’t wanted to load Percy with a lot of tasks during this event, but he’d promised to answer questions about the displays and to keep an eye on anyone who seemed to be making trouble. There weren’t a lot of those, but twice Percy had chased off jerks with markers.

“You think this is funny?” he demanded of the second one, who looked mortified to have gotten caught. “You want to go around ruining someone’s hard work? Why don’t I go key your car, you douchebag? Get outta here!”

He stuck around long enough to watch the guy leave before returning to his friends. Ned looked surprisingly put out.

“I didn’t think there were people who actually did that stuff,” he said, staring at where the guy had run off to. Percy grunted.

“There are always people who get a kick out of being a jerk,” he said darkly, sticking his hands in his pockets. After a moment, though, he softened. “Honestly, though, this is going really well. Rachel was a huge help getting everything ready for today.” He glanced over with half a smile. “You two were too.”

Both of them grinned at him, and Ned said, “It’s pretty cool. I’ve never been to a fundraiser event like this before.”

“Neither had I, until my mom started running them,” Percy admitted, smiling sheepishly. “She was doing bake sales for ages before this though.” He paused and stepped aside to explain the display to a couple that was debating about it, pointing out the artist’s name and the organization they were promoting, and then pointed out his mom when they asked about the coordinator.

“You should put tip jars out next time.”

Percy started, looking over at the girl heading in their direction. She waved at them, glancing at the displays as she passed, and stopped a few feet away.

“I go to a lot of art exhibitions, they’re usually pretty cool,” she explained, meeting Percy’s eyes. “Some people like to tip when they’re really impressed by a piece.”

“I’ll mention it to my mom,” Percy said, smiling at her. “You’re from Midtown, right? Michelle?”

“MJ works too,” she said, and looked at Peter and Ned. “I wasn’t expecting to see you two here.”

“Percy asked,” Peter explained, making Percy smile sheepishly. “What about you?”

“I told you, I like art exhibitions.” MJ rocked on her heels. “And the backers made me kind of curious. How’d you catch Tony Stark’s attention? He usually focuses on like, foreign aid and research stuff.”

Percy scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. “Um, he knows me for secret reasons?”

MJ raised her eyebrows. “Okay, 007. Hey, how much of proceeds is your mom keeping?” Percy scowled at her. “Don’t look at me like that. Sometimes people who run nonprofits want to be paid. Just a matter of how much.”

Uncomfortable, Percy crossed his arms and shifted away. “Mom doesn’t talk about money stuff around me ‘cause it stresses me out. You’d have to ask her.”

“How come?” MJ asked, completely unabashed.

“Uh.” Percy glanced at the other two, but they seemed just as curious. He shrugged self-consciously. “Smelly Gabe was really financially abusive, which means he used money to control our behavior a lot. Refusing to pay for things, demanding money, stuff like that. I don’t like talking about it.”

“No, I get that,” MJ said hastily, contrition flashing across her face. “So I probably shouldn’t go and start interrogating your mom about her finances, huh?”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Percy said honestly, and started when Peter nudged him.

“You never said this was personal,” Peter complained, looking earnest. Percy started.

“I didn’t?” Both boys shook their heads. “Huh. Sorry. I don’t like to bring it up too much. Don’t want to make things weird, you know?”

MJ shrugged. “When it’s relevant, it’s relevant,” she said, which oddly did make Percy feel better.

The rest of the exhibition went off without a hitch. Both pieces Steve had donated for auction were enormously popular, no surprise there, but the rest of them got a lot of attention too. Toward the end, his mom delivered her speech, thanking everyone for their contributions and talking about meeting all the artists who had put up displays, and then also embarrassing him by calling him out special.

Afterward, MJ stayed to help clean up too, and Sally insisted on writing her a note crediting her for the hour she spent taking the displays back down and put things away. Ned suggested they head to a nearby park, and they took off when things were almost done.

“So hey,” Peter said, once they were there and hanging out on the undersized playground equipment. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you about, but I dunno if you want to wait until MJ’s gone home.”

“Well, now that’s not an option anymore,” MJ said, glancing up with raised eyebrows. Peter winced, and Percy rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine. What is it?” He had a suspicion as to what he wanted to talk about, anyway; Tony had tipped him off the week before.

“You sure?” Peter asked, pretty much confirming Percy’s suspicion.

“You just wait,” Ned told MJ in a whisper. “This is gnarly. Peter told me about it yesterday.”

“Who says ‘gnarly’ anymore?” MJ asked.

Peter was still looking at Percy like a kicked puppy, so Percy gestured for him to answer, and Peter did. “Tony said... there’s a prophecy? That’s supposed to be fulfilled on your birthday in August?”

Percy exhaled, feeling a familiar weight settle across his shoulders again, and nodded. No point denying it now. “If I live to sixteen, which is looking surprisingly likely at this point... yeah.”

“If?” Ned asked, high-pitched. MJ had a different concern.

“Oh my god, is that the secret reason you know Tony Stark?” she demanded.

“Yeah,” Percy conceded with a somewhat strained smile. “They’ll be making the whole story public after everything’s over, but it’s under wraps for now to like, minimize the number of people suggesting we avert the apocalypse by killing me before my next birthday.”

MJ stared at him. “You’re completely serious, aren’t you?”

“Shit, that’s why you never want to talk about this stuff,” Ned whispered.

Percy nodded, shifting to sit sideways on the swing. “Less than six months now,” he said quietly. “I’m trying not to think about it too much. Did you have any other questions, though? Now’s the time.”

“What’s the prophecy?” MJ asked instantly. Percy grimaced.

“They haven’t let me hear the whole thing,” he admitted. “But the gist of it is, the next Big Three kid – uh, a child of my dad or his brothers – will make a choice that either saves the world or ends it when they turn sixteen.” He looked away, scuffing his shoes along the ground. “Thalia, my cousin, swore an oath so she’d stop aging. My other cousin’s about twelve right now, and his sister...” He cleared his throat as a lump swelled in it. “His sister died last year. So. She’s not gonna be turning sixteen either.”

“Dude,” Ned said. “All that and you’re still studying for tests and stuff?”

Startled, Percy let out a laugh. “I probably wouldn’t be if we hadn’t become friends,” he said. “I’d pretty much written off the school year ‘cause I knew it would suck. But yeah, that’s why I’ve been so out of it.”

“That’s a pretty good reason,” Peter agreed, looking pale. It was fading away though, replaced by open concern. “Can we help at all?”

Percy glanced between them, but all three seemed earnest – even MJ, who he technically barely knew. Color spread across his cheeks, and he smiled softly.

“You already are,” he said honestly. “It’s not often that I have friends during the school year. You guys have been really great.”

Chapter Text

Percy had never worn a suit before, and he quickly decided that he fucking hated it. Tony had put in as much leeway as he could – Percy was allowed to wear it with the jacket hanging open, the cufflinks were set with iridescent abalone, and the whole thing was a gentle denim blue – but it only barely helped. It was too stuffy; Percy felt like he’d been shrink-wrapped. The ocean doesn’t like to be restrained.

It didn’t matter. Apparently you couldn’t walk into the Ritz wearing a stained hoodie.

“Relax,” Tony said under his breath, subtly steering Percy by the shoulder. “You’re not in trouble, this isn’t a court appearance. You’re just meeting the President for lunch so you can talk about the prophecy.”

Percy, whose face was already pale, swallowed with difficulty. “Right. That’s all.”

He followed Tony past security and up a stairway. Everything about the building told Percy that he shouldn’t be there – the ornate wooden walls, the furniture that cost more than a car, the paintings on the walls. He felt like people were eying him, annoyed and judgmental. He took a deep breath once they were in the elevator.

“Hey,” he said, without looking at Tony. “If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?”

“Course I will.”

“Is this another meeting to decide whether or not to kill me?”

There was a pregnant pause.

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted at last. Then, firmly, “But it doesn’t matter. I might not be the president, but I’m smarter and richer than he is, with a better reputation. He can’t touch you as long as I’m on your side.”

Percy wasn’t sure about that. “I feel sick.”

“Don’t throw up,” Tony advised him, and then they got off the elevator.

There were men on either side of the elevator, and more down the hallway and through the next set of doors. There were even more around the edges of the room, watching, and three men seated at the dining table.

“Percy, meet President Ellis, General Talbot, and Agent Covey, head of the Secret Service,” Tony introduced, apparently perfectly comfortable in the company. “Mr. President, Percy Jackson, high school student.”

“A pleasure, Mr. Jackson,” the president said, examining Percy with a critical eye. Throat too tight to speak, Percy nodded stiffly. Ellis didn’t seem to take offense. “Take a seat, both of you. We have a lot to discuss.”

President Ellis, General Talbot, and Agent Covey were on one side of the long table. Tony and Percy sat on the other.

“I received a dossier on you this morning, Mr. Jackson,” Ellis said mildly, picking up a folder to flip through it. “You’re not the youngest person I’ve ever been briefed on, but you’re certainly close.”

“What happened to the last one?” Percy asked before he could stop himself. Ellis raised an eyebrow.

“Perfectly fine,” Ellis said. “Still living happily with her mother, I believe. Now, I’ve been led to believe that you are the son of a god. Poseidon, correct?” Percy nodded. “A demigod... at once the newest and the oldest form of metahuman in existence. Where have you been during the turmoil of the last few years?”

Percy picked at his cufflinks. “Um, trying not to get eaten by monsters.”

“Is that so?” Ellis glanced at Tony.

“It’s the usual pastime of most demigods,” Tony informed him.

“Hm.” Ellis glanced at one of the men beside him. “Covey?”

Covey didn’t even glance at Percy’s file, just fixed him with an unwavering gaze. “Your file is not what I would call auspicious, Mr. Jackson. Over half a dozen expulsions, a GPA of 2.1, a national manhunt, several arson allegations, and an extensive record of violent and erratic behavior at school.”

It probably wasn’t a good time to ask what ‘auspicious’ meant.

“...Sorry?” Percy suggested, glancing at Tony for help.

“Hey, cut the kid some slack,” Tony said, leaning on the table with intent. “Aggression at school is linked to abuse at home, and he and his mom have been open enough about that. He’s grown out of it.”

“Yes, the stepfather.” Covey gave Talbot a meaningful and grim look. “He disappeared a few years ago under mysterious circumstances, did he not?”

Percy swallowed thickly. “Um, yeah.”

“You don’t seem especially upset about it.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, he was hurting me and my mom, so no.”

“And I’m sure that you have a perfectly reasonable explanation,” Covey said, “for the statue your mother sold the summer of his disappearance, which, my agents noticed, bears a remarkable resemblance to your missing abuser.”

The blood drained from Percy’s face. Tony took one look at him and understood.

“Should I be bringing a lawyer into this, Agent?” he asked, leaning against the table with steely eyes. “Gods know I have plenty to choose from.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Ellis said. “Investigations indicate this was no great loss. But it raises interesting questions about the temperament of our young friend here.”

“I dunno what you want from me,” Percy mumbled, hunching close to the table. “I mean... yeah. I’m dumb and violent. I’m good with a sword, and not much else.” He shrugged. “If I could pass off this prophecy to someone less likely to screw it up, I would. But I can’t.”

“Then give him a psych eval,” Tony said, not even acknowledging Percy’s self-deprecation. “He’s a good kid. Compassionate, loyal, good leadership skills. Give him a chance to prove it and he will.”

“Why should we?” Talbot asked, and he was looking at Percy, challenging but, to his surprise, not dismissive. “We’ve heard enough from Stark. Let’s hear it from the one we’d supposedly be depending on.”

Percy started, glancing anxiously at the other two. Covey nodded slightly, expression unreadable, and Ellis gave Talbot an approving nod before looking back at Percy.

Uncertainty and shame transformed into determination, and Percy sat up.

“Because I’m loyal to Camp Half-Blood,” he said, focus narrowing down to a point. “Luke made it so that no matter what we do, it’s Camp Half-Blood against the titans, and Camp Half-Blood was the first place I ever felt safe.” He took a deep breath, forcing his nerves to settle. “I know how to listen to people. My best friend is Annabeth Chase, the smartest person I’ve ever met, and I know when to trust her and when to stand my ground.” It was no use; his heart beat like a rabbit’s. He bounced his leg. “My demigod instincts are some of the best at camp. I have more prophetic dreams than the Apollo kids and better reflexes than demigod adults. And I have experience. I’ve been on four quests. That’s more than most demigods ever go on.”

He ran out of reasons and shut his mouth, bouncing his leg faster. He hoped that was enough.

Covey nodded thoughtfully, and when Ellis looked at him, he said, “A better case than anything else I’ve heard so far. I don’t know if it’s enough, but it’s compelling.”

“I don’t like it,” Talbot said bluntly. “All this magic, prophecy mumbo-jumbo, it’s not right. But...” Percy held his breath. “It’s what we’re stuck with. We’re better off preparing for what’s coming than fighting the inevitable. Only thing that would help us do is fail.”

“The Avengers have been doing that for the last year,” Tony said. “He’s been training with us at least twice a month, and we’ve been keeping an eye on him. His skills are brilliant for his age, and no red flags.”

“You don’t consider the mysterious death of his stepfather a red flag?” Covey inquired, tone even. Percy looked away sharply, trying to hide the way his chest went cold again.

“Circumstantial,” Tony said without flinching. “Since the death of his abuser, Percy has been a goddamn beacon of integrity and courage. I see no reason to believe he’ll do anything except what’s right.”

“We should put him through at least basic training,” Talbot said to Ellis, apparently ignoring the byplay. “Maybe see if he has the talent for something specialized.”

Tony snorted, earning him an irritated glare from Talbot.

“That’s not a good idea,” Tony informed him, amusement creeping into his voice. “Percy plays well with others, but children of Poseidon are notoriously difficult to control. Blackmail, trickery, magic – it usually doesn’t work out. Him and a drill sergeant would be... well, oil and water.”

Talbot smirked. “We’ll see how that rebellion holds up. I’ve not met a boy yet that can’t be broken by a good drill sergeant.”

“You’ve never seen one try and break a son of Poseidon,” Tony countered. “Percy? What do you think?”

Percy wrinkled his nose. “You mean, what do I think about spending two months away from home, getting yelled at all day about my attention to detail, during the most stressful year of my life? Um, no.” He caught Talbot’s look and clarified, “I’ve thought about it before, but this is like, the worst possible time for it.”

“I didn’t know you’d thought about it,” Tony said. Percy shrugged, rubbing his cheek self-consciously.

“It’d probably be good for me,” he muttered. “The discipline and cooperation and stuff. And it’s definitely my best chance at a scholarship. But I dunno if it would work out with all the demigod stuff.”

“Think of it this way,” Ellis said dryly. “Do well here, and you’ll get the best reference you could wish for.”

Startled, Percy let out a short laugh. “No kidding,” he said.

As if they’d been waiting for the tension to break, and maybe they had, a few waiters chose that moment to come in. They must have sent ahead for the food, because they were bringing it in, which turned out to be kind of unfortunate for Percy. He nudged the plate of salmon away as soon as the waiter set it down.

“I don’t eat seafood,” he said. “Sorry. Are you allowed to bring me something else?”

The man looked a little incredulous, which was fair – if it had been anything else, Percy wouldn’t have dared to be picky in the company he was in. Fish were special, though, and President Ellis looked thoughtful, not offended.

“My apologies, I should have considered that,” Ellis said. “Mr. Stark, I believe you’ve shared a few meals with Mr. Jackson?”

Tony grinned and said to the waiter, “Bring the kid a burger. It’ll be the fanciest he’s ever had.”

A smile flashed across Percy’s face, and he relaxed as the man nodded and took the plate away. General Talbot raised an eyebrow at Percy.

“Respect for the sea god?” he asked. It took Percy a moment to untangle the full question.

“For the fish,” he admitted, scratching his head sheepishly. “I can talk to them, and they ask me for help sometimes. I wouldn’t want to betray their trust like that.”

“What could a fish possibly need help with?” Ellis asked. It was such a normal question that it made Percy feel better, and he returned to fidgeting with his cufflink.

“Pollution, usually,” he said. “A fishing net mixed up in the seaweed, broken glass stuck in gills. Once it was a whale with a stomachache – I think she got caught in an oil spill. I couldn’t do a whole lot for her.”

A few minutes passed in relative quiet while everyone started eating. Percy’s food arrived shortly after, and he did his best to not be messy with it.

“What are you doing to prepare for what’s coming?” Ellis asked Percy.

“Um.” He put down his burger to fidget with the napkin. “Well, I’ve been heading down to camp to help the less experienced kids with their sword work. The Hephaestus cabin has been stockpiling traps and fitting armor for everyone. The nature spirits have been keeping an eye out for the Princess Andromeda, um, their flagship, I guess. Me and Beckendorf are gonna firebomb it once it gets close to Long Island.”

“Sorry, you and Beckendorf are what?” Tony interrupted, startling Percy. Percy shrugged, shifting in place.

“You haven’t been around for that?” he asked, bemused. “Yeah, Beckendorf prepared a Greek fire detonator, and we’ve been practicing. If we can destroy the Princess Andromeda, that’ll sink like a quarter of their army.”

“You and Beckendorf are not going to sneak aboard an enemy ship,” Tony snapped, jabbing a fork at him. “I’ll talk to Clint and Natasha, they can do it.”

Percy wrinkled his nose, kind of hurt. “I thought it was a good plan,” he said. “I can get us in and out, and Beckendorf can rig up the detonator so it destroys the engine.”

“I don’t care how good it is, you’re fifteen,” Tony said, “and Beckendorf is barely any older. You shouldn’t be risking yourselves like that.”

“It’s either now or later,” Percy pointed out.

“Children are not generally front line fighters,” Covey said.

“Yeah, well, no one told the monsters that,” Percy said tersely, and then took a bite of his food to try and get out of the conversation.

“This is what I’ve been saying,” Tony added, speaking to the three government men. “Camp Half-Blood is preparing to go to war against titans and monsters, because no one has been giving them any support. These are children and nature spirits, not soldiers. They shouldn’t be expecting to have to face these monsters alone.”

“Where are the adult demigods?” Talbot demanded.

“There aren’t any,” Tony said. “Or near enough. Me, Barton, and Barnes. A couple more that Barton’s been trying to track down and get in contact with. Most demigods don’t live long enough to grow up.”

Percy’s stomach turned. “Gee, thanks,” he muttered.

“Where are the gods?”

“Now you’re getting at the core of the issue,” Tony said. “And the answer is, I guarantee you, it is always ‘not looking after their children.’ They need protection, or nothing’s ever going to change.”

“What?” Percy lifted his head to stare at Tony.

“Yes, your proposal,” Ellis said, slow and reluctant. “Repeat it for us.”

“Protection and social support,” Tony said, more intent than Percy had ever seen him. “Demigods and their families need access to information and schooling, and they need protection from monsters so that kids stop getting eaten. Safe passage to and from Camp Half-Blood, too. Set up a military base for the purpose, or outposts. Something to keep these kids from getting screwed.”

“Evidence seems to indicate that plenty of families manage without,” Covey pointed out, tilting his head to Percy.

“Um.” Percy figured it was now or never. “Mom married Smelly Gabe because she couldn’t find any other way to hide my scent from monsters. I definitely wouldn’t have lived to twelve otherwise.”

“Interesting expression of gratitude,” Covey noted. Rage slammed into Percy hard enough to bowl him over, and it was only Tony’s hand on his wrist that kept him in his chair.

“I paid for that bastard's gambling habit every summer for five years," Percy snapped. “The only gratitude he deserves is my foot in his face.”

Covey hummed, unsurprised, and said to Ellis, “We’ll have to cover that up. It’s not a connection we want anyone else to make.”

Ellis nodded. “Buy the statue and have it destroyed,” he said. Covey pulled out his phone and started to type. “See about taking down any articles containing photos of it. Did Ugliano have any friends, family?” He directed the last question to Percy, who was slowly catching up.

Percy gave Tony an anxious, unsure glance, but Tony was looking borderline smug. “Um, his mom called on Christmas, but he usually didn’t pick up. My mom did it for him. He had a couple friends that played poker with him once a week, but I only know their first names.” Covey snapped his fingers. Percy tried to clamp down his irritation, because he was pretty sure they were actually doing him a favor. “Edgar, Jack, and Victor. Edgar was the building supervisor, Jack lived down the hall, and Victor worked at the same Walmart. Do you need the building address?”

“No,” Covey said. “Did they see anything?”

Percy bit his cheek and gave Tony another uncertain look.

“I’ve got your back,” Tony reminded him under his breath. Percy nodded stiffly.

“...I don’t know,” he admitted, without looking at anyone. “By the time I went home that summer, Mom had already moved our stuff into a new apartment. I never saw those guys again.” Then, unable to resist, “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll send an agent over to ask them some questions,” Covey said, still typing with a frown of concentration. “Depending on what they know or suspect, I’ll decide what to do with them. Somehow, though, I don’t think you have reason to be concerned.”

Percy relaxed a little, allowing himself to be relieved. Tony nudged him.

“If you’re expecting anything else to come up, now’s the time,” he said. Percy crossed his arms and squirmed. “Yeah?”

“Athena thinks that Kronos is going to use someone as leverage to make me cooperate,” he said at last. “And, um, I don’t know if anyone on his side knows how much my mom means to me, but...” He trailed off.

Tony gave Talbot a nod. “Some protection on Sally,” he prompted. Talbot sighed, but he nodded back. “All good, then? Can we actually eat our food now?”

Percy started and looked down at his forgotten burger, which he hadn’t even eaten half of. On cue, his stomach grumbled. Ellis chuckled.

“Yes, I suppose we’ve talked business for long enough,” Ellis said, and while they tucked back into their food, Percy tried to think of how he’d explain this to his mom and Foggy.

Oh, hell.

For the first time in months, Percy’s stomach twisted as he thought of talking to Foggy. He was not going to be cool about this.

Chapter Text

Percy brought up the idea of not mentioning it to Foggy at all. Sally shot it down. They’d started talking about living together and getting married, and she wanted her cards on the table. Percy got that.

Watching Foggy pace back and forth, raising and dropping his hands as he struggled with the information, still made Percy incredibly anxious.

“Okay,” Foggy said at last, turning toward them. He stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned back on the wall, looking frustrated and annoyed. Percy’s stomach twisted. “Let’s take a look. Was there any other way you could have handled this? You didn’t need him anymore, you wanted him gone. What else could you have done?”

“Oh, don’t be facetious, Foggy,” Sally sighed, tucking some hair behind her ear. “I know I could have divorced him and moved away. I had photos, I could have charged him with abuse. I likely would have even gotten a settlement out of it.”

“Why didn’t you?” Foggy asked. His tone was pressing, but not loud or harsh despite his strained expression. “You’re not a violent person, Sally. I know you aren’t.”

“No,” Sally agreed. She tucked her hair back again. “To be honest, I... think the strain began to addle my sense by the time it was all over. You don’t know what it’s like. To constantly give in to him because anything less would cost me my son – I let him do awful things to me. I let him do awful things to Percy.”

“Hey.” Foggy sat down beside her and took her hands, gentle enough to almost, almost make Percy relax again. “I know. I know. I get that. You had to leave him. But why like this? Why kill him?”

“I needed him to be gone,” Sally confessed, leaning into him. That was reassuring too. “You know how long divorces can take – they can drag on for years. But Percy was an active demigod now, and I had to be able to devote my attention to him. He needed to focus on camp. Gabriel- Gabriel needed to disappear and never come back.”

“So you killed him.”

“I don’t regret it,” Sally said without hesitation. “I let him hurt Percy for eight years. There were bruises, there were tears. Percy was picking fights and acting out because he was too young to understand what he was going through. I’ll never forgive Gabriel for what he did to my baby.”

Oddly, the tirade made Percy feel a little dizzy. He turned his body away and stared determinedly at the floor, halfway to tuning it out.

Foggy sighed, scrubbing his face with both hands. “I can’t even begin to imagine,” he admitted. “It shouldn’t have come to that. Both of you deserve better.”

That made both Jacksons soften up, settling down.

“I don’t like this,” he added. “I don’t agree with it.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Sally agreed. Foggy huffed again and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Fine,” he said. “What did you use?”

Sally scrutinized him for a moment, then said, “Medusa’s severed head.”

Foggy spluttered, which was enough to make Percy smile. “Wh- where did you get Medusa’s severed head?”

Sally glanced at Percy, and Percy shrugged, smiling sheepishly and slowly relaxing as the tension faded. “It was kind of Dad’s idea,” he said. “I ran into Medusa on my first quest. I sent the head to Olympus because I was annoyed about the whole getting-blamed-for-stealing-the-bolt thing, and Dad sent it back when I came home.”

“You killed Medusa when you were twelve?”

“As monster fights go, it wasn’t that bad,” Percy said. “It was just tricky to walk up to her with my back turned. Like playing with inverted controls.”

Foggy stared at him. “You do realize you could be hogtied and still beat me up, right?”

Maybe it was inappropriate, but Percy laughed at that. Foggy grinned briefly back, then shook himself, rolled his shoulders, and straightened up.

“Okay, okay... what did you do with the head?” he asked Sally. The return to topic sobered everyone up.

“I took it out to the ocean,” Sally said. “Hopefully, either it got swept out or Poseidon took care of it. Either way, I don’t think it’ll be a problem anymore.”

“Does anyone...” Foggy took a deep breath and rubbed his knuckles into his forehead. “Suspect anything?”

Sally understood faster than Percy did, and her voice softened with gratitude. “Eddie might – our old building supervisor. He knew what Gabriel was doing, and he never did approve of it. I don’t think he’ll say anything.”

Percy snorted without meaning to. “He had a weak stomach,” he said, voice dripping with uncharacteristic scorn. “He doesn’t get brownie points for that.”

Sally glanced at him with a look that was first startled, than sad. “He saw?”

“They all saw,” Percy said. “Eddie was just the only one that didn’t like it.”

“Okay, that’s haunting,” Foggy announced, and then, “Self-defense is out, if there wasn’t immediate and serious danger. But I think there’s a good argument for diminished responsibility, temporary insanity. We’d want some character witnesses, testimony concerning your relationship with your son, any evidence you still have of the abuse.”

“I still have everything,” Sally said, pushing her hands into her lap. She wouldn’t meet Foggy’s eyes. “The photos, a journal I kept to document everything, a few recordings I made of his tirades. What... what are you going to do?”

Foggy blinked at her, then sat up. “Nothing,” he said. “I mean, seriously, nothing. I don’t like this, but I’ll support you, period, end of story, and I’m not gonna leave you high and dry if something happens. Don’t worry about that.”

Sally kissed him, which Foggy seemed to consider appropriate payment for his declaration of loyalty.

Matt had a lot of good ideas about the defense of New York. He didn’t have Percy’s easy recall of the tunnels and bridges that led into Manhattan, but he was perfectly content to take Percy at his word and help him draw up plans, just in case.

“It depends on what you’re worried might happen,” Matt reasoned. “If you’re worried about another threat drawing the Avengers away from New York, then Stark and Barton will probably be with them. On the other hand, if you’re worried about magical interference, maybe they’ll stay.”

Percy tapped the desk for a moment and scowled, thinking hard. “Plan for the worst,” he decided, and moved around a couple of push pins. “Do you think you could stand with the Ares cabin and listen for groups that need backup?”

“I have a phone,” Matt said. “Maybe we can get the Ares counselor one as well, and we won’t have to concentrate our heavy hitters in one area. They’ll know their cabinmates better anyway.”

“Clarisse?” Percy considered that, then nodded. “That could work. Clarisse is a pretty good strategist. I mean, she’d rather be in the action, but she’ll do what needs to be done.”

“Matt, I thought you were helping Percy with his English homework?”

Foggy appeared in the doorway of Matt’s office, frowning at them, and Percy winced, instinctively half-covering the map so Foggy couldn’t see it. Matt, on the other hand, seemed only vaguely perturbed.

“We started with that,” Matt said. “But Percy was having trouble concentrating. He’s been having dreams about the demigods defending Manhattan by themselves, and he’s having trouble telling if they’re prophetic or nightmares. It’s making him nervous.”

“And the map?” Foggy sauntered over and leaned down to look, grimacing at the push pins. Percy crossed his arms defensively.

“Contingency plan,” Matt answered, though he was starting to shift nervously too. “I thought that deciding what to do in a worst case scenario would reassure him.”

“Matt, buddy, there is no way to make a fifteen year old leading the defense of a city into something remotely okay,” Foggy said. Then, to Percy, he added, “I think your plan should be ‘hide and scream until the Avengers get there.’”

Percy managed a weak laugh and ran his fingers through his hair, unable to look away from the map. “I know it’s not what’s supposed to happen,” he said. “I’m worried about it, that’s all.”

“Percy, you are experiencing what we old folks call anxiety,” Foggy said, earning a more genuine laugh this time. “You don’t need to sit here and rake your brain over coals trying to fix problems before they show up. You need a distraction.”

“I can’t concentrate,” Percy admitted. “Homework isn’t cutting it, video games aren’t working out for me. Movies take too much attention, Youtube doesn’t take enough. I just keep going back to worrying.”

“I would too, in your place,” Foggy said, sitting down beside him. “Sally and Karen should be back with food pretty soon. Why don’t you talk to them and see if you can figure something out for this weekend?” Matt and Foggy were finally starting to get regular business, so they couldn’t leave in the middle of the day like they used to.

Percy frowned. “Like a trip?”

“Yeah,” Foggy said. “I don’t know if we can splurge right now, but I bet Sally would be up for something small. A trip to that aquarium you liked, or maybe a beach trip.”

Percy’s mind went straight to Montauk. It wasn’t quite the sanctuary it had been in his childhood, since the rest of Percy’s life was no longer a hell he needed refuge from, but it was still his favorite place in the world. “Yeah, okay.”

Sally and Karen arrived back soon after Percy finished putting the map away. Percy held his hands out for food and also accepted a napkin when Sally pushed it at him.

“Hey, Mom?” he said, digging into his fried rice with a plastic fork. “Do you think we can go to the beach this weekend?”

Sally started, turning her head to look at him even as she sat by Foggy’s desk. “Montauk? Did something happen?”

Percy’s cheeks heated, and he scuffed the floor and took a bite to buy himself some time. “It doesn’t have to be Montauk,” he mumbled. “But, um, I thought it would be nice.”

“Montauk?” Karen asked, sitting at her desk to open her food.

“Where I met Percy’s father,” Sally said, a faint smile curving her mouth. “We usually go once a year, right at the beginning of summer. It’s very special to both of us.”

“That’s so sweet,” Karen said.

“He’s stressing about his birthday again,” Foggy explained to Sally. “I found him and Matt making battle plans earlier.”

Sally’s gaze immediately returned to Percy. “Sweetie...”

Percy shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Tony mentioned making plans in case some of the Avengers aren’t available when everything happens,” he said. “And, um, he was talking to Rhodey, but it got me thinking about it, is all.”

“Of course you’re worried,” Sally soothed. “I think it would be lovely to pay Montauk a visit this weekend. A perfect chance for you to relax for a while. The only question is...” She trailed off, but her head twitched toward Foggy, revealing her worry.

Percy hesitated, understanding immediately that she was giving him the choice – if not for every visit, then at least this one.

When he was young, Montauk’s magic had come from the fact that it was the only place where he was with his mother, but away from Gabe. As far as Percy was concerned, that made it the best place in the world. The saltwater, sand, and campfire was a bonus, not the star. It was the golden rule of Montauk: Smelly Gabe was not allowed to come with them.

The question, then, was if Foggy would be allowed there. Did Percy want to invite him, or was Montauk too sacred? Percy tried to fit him into their normal routine. Foggy cleaned up after himself, and he liked microwave popcorn, and he was okay to watch movies with. Sally sat on the beach and watched Percy play in the water about half the time anyway. Everyone liked s’mores. That left...

“Mom tells me about my dad when we’re there,” Percy said to Foggy. “Would you be cool about that?”

Foggy blinked, looking genuinely surprised. “Sure, of course. He’s your dad, I’m sure he’s still very important to both of you.”

Karen and Matt exchanged a fond, faintly exasperated look, which was a neat trick considering Matt’s blindness. Percy smiled at Foggy.

“Would you want to come with us?” he asked.

Foggy started, then lit up in a way that indicated he definitely knew how special that was. “Sure! I mean, absolutely, if neither of you minds. I’d be honored.”

Chapter Text

Though he still wasn’t sure about taking time away, Montauk turned out to be exactly what Percy needed for his frayed nerves. The sights, the sounds, even the smell of the familiar beach made it easy to relax. Mom put their music on while the three of them cleaned out the cabinets, swept away dead spiders, and washed the dusty dishes. Foggy made a valiant attempt to chop firewood and nearly gashed his leg open, so Percy took over and cut enough for the two nights they’d be staying.

They finished setting up just in time to get ready for dinner. Percy sat in the sand and leaned on his mom, and Foggy sat in a camp chair only a little away. Foggy’s brow was furrowed with concentration, like he’d never roasted a hot dog over a fire before.

“What was Dad like when you knew him?” Percy asked, shoulder pressing into her thigh. Sally’s answers had expanded since Percy had learned about his heritage, but really, he would have kept asking anyway.

Sally smiled. Her eyes still brightened near the sea.

“He was the most affectionate man I’d ever met,” she told Percy. “And when he paid attention to me, he could make me feel like I was the only person in the world. I was a young woman then, and all I’d ever wanted was someone to love.” She tapped the tip of his nose, eyes warm. “Sometimes I think he knew that, and that’s why he gave me you.”

Percy gave her a goofy, pleased grin, feeling lighter and more carefree than he had in months. “Did he ever take you under the sea?”

“Whenever I wanted,” Sally said, scratching his neck gently. “I loved it. It’s so beautiful down there, and I’ve never forgotten it.” She smiled, eyes sparkling. “He wanted to have the fish perform for us, but I loved the natural ocean too much.”

Percy laughed, turning his head to watch the sun set over the sea. “It’s amazing,” he agreed wistfully. “Would you want to see it again?”

Sally hesitated, and Percy turned his head to look up at her. Her smile matched the light of the setting sun. “Maybe just once,” she said. “In the morning, once it’s light out.”

Percy grinned, twirling his skewer to flip the hot dog over. “Sure,” he said. “I’ve never been to the sea floor out here.”

“What does it look like underwater?” Foggy asked. Percy started, and Foggy met his eyes and smiled sheepishly. After a moment, Percy smiled back.

“I don’t think I could describe it,” he admitted, thinking of the flashing fish and tangles of ocean flora. “Do you want to come with us?”

Foggy’s expression brightened with excitement. “I wouldn’t want to, you know, get in the way of your time,” he said. “But if you’re fine with it? It’d be fantastic.”

Percy looked up at Sally, and Sally beamed at Foggy and nodded.

“Of course,” she said. “You’re going to love it.”

They took their hot dogs off the fire soon after that, and passed around mustard and relish to add on. Conversation lulled while they ate, and Percy finished first, giving him time to ask more questions.

“You and Dad talked about me, right?” he asked, leaning back again to look at her hopefully. “Before he left?”

Sally finished her bite before she answered, looking just as content as Percy felt. “More than you could know,” she said. “He talked about how brave and strong and kind you would be, how much my son and his. He was worried about you, of course, but he always had faith that you would pull through. And he told me about Camp Half-Blood, of course – I’d never heard of it before that. I just knew about demigods.”

“What did he tell you about it?”

That was a new question, so Sally pondered it for a minute. “He said that it would help you grow into a hero,” she said. “Let’s see... he told me a little about Chiron, and said that he trusted no one else to look after his children. He talked about some of the things you’d learn there, sword-fighting and Ancient Greek and chariot racing.”

Percy grinned. “And canoeing, arts and crafts, bribery...”

Sally laughed, reaching down to ruffle his hair. “That was when he warned me about the monsters,” she continued. “The magical boundary wouldn’t be established until years after this, but Camp Half-Blood has always had ways of keeping its children safe from monsters. He told me to take you there when I could no longer keep you safe. And when I asked how long you would need to spend there, he... admitted that you might never leave, because Camp Half-Blood was where you belonged.”

Percy tried to imagine that – if, instead of marrying Gabe, Sally had brought him to camp when he was four or five years old. Would he have come back, if she’d left him there at such a young age?

“Peggy Carter said that everyone who survives leaves eventually,” he told her, realizing that he’d neglected to bring it up before. “Beckendorf’s even going to college next year, and Silena’s gonna do beauty school. Peggy said lots of half-bloods go out and do their own thing.”

Sally kissed the top of his head, pulled back, and smiled at him, sad and pained.

“I’m glad,” she said. “I believe that you have a bright future ahead of you, Percy. But that thought...” She closed her eyes. “To have given you to Chiron when you were four years old, and not known you for the last decade... the very idea breaks my heart.”

“Even after everything?”

“Even after everything,” she reassured him. “I had second thoughts, sometimes, but I never stopped wanting to keep you with me.”

“Four?” Foggy asked quietly, drawing their attention to him again. His brow was furrowed deeply, looking at both of them with undisguised concern.

Sally ran her fingers through Percy’s hair, no longer smiling when he looked up at her. “We were living out of my car because monsters kept finding our apartment, and I couldn’t keep a lease,” she said. “Four monsters in three months... I had to make a choice.”

“I don’t remember that,” Percy said, except he kind of did. He remembered sprawling on top of her, sleeping in a back seat. He always figured it had been a car trip or something.

“It was like magic,” Sally said softly. “We moved in with Gabe, and monsters stopped knocking on the door. Even at school, incidents went from once a month to once or twice a year.”

“Out of the fire and into the frying pan,” Foggy said. Sally nodded.

“There was never any question which was better,” she said. “And every time I thought about handing my baby over to Chiron, I couldn’t do it. What would Percy think, if I gave him away so easily?”

Gods, what would he have thought? He decided not to tell her. If his mom had left him that young, surrounded by the unclaimed and unwanted children of the gods, he might not have ever forgiven her.

Sally shook herself and ran her fingers through his hair again. “I’m sorry, sweetie, this is supposed to be a lighthearted trip.”

He squirmed, setting his cheek on her thigh. “It’s okay. I like hearing what you were thinking.” He turned his head toward Foggy. “It’s hard to imagine that Matt never had to deal with any of this. Did he move around a lot?”

Foggy shook his head. “Nope. Moved as little as possible, actually – being blind means he has to memorize all the crossroads and buildings and stuff. But why would it be so different for him?”

“Parentage,” Sally said simply. “Matt is a son of Nemesis, a minor goddess. Percy’s father is one of the three sons of Kronos.”

“It took three tutors to get me through my lit requirements in undergrad,” Foggy said, making both of them laugh.

“He’s very old and very powerful,” Sally said. “Kronos, after all, was born from the earth itself, one of the oldest of all divine beings.”

Foggy wrinkled his nose. “Would that make Percy... the great-grandson of the literal Earth?”

Both of them laughed. After a moment, Foggy did too.

“Yeah, I guess,” Percy agreed. He’d take his mom’s word for it; he hadn’t really studied his lineage that closely. Or at all. “But yeah, parentage makes a really big difference for us. I mean, our powers come from our parents, so it makes sense, right?” He resettled, comfortable and relaxed. “How did you and Matt meet, anyway?”

Foggy was happy to tell the story over roasting marshmallows.

Percy was the first one awake the next morning, with Sally close behind. They made a tall stack of blue pancakes before Sally went to wake Foggy, who tottered out of the shared bedroom, rubbing his face and yawning. They settled at the table, where they could see the sea through the window, and dug in.

“We need to take Annabeth here soon,” Percy said, cutting up the pancakes with his fork. “Maybe after summer session, if...” He trailed off.

“Absolutely,” Sally agreed without hesitation. “It’s long overdue, if I’m honest.” She smiled, and it crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I know we always treasured our time alone together here, but... it’s wonderful to have people to bring, too.”

Percy smiled, too. “Things are better now,” he said.

Foggy yawned loudly.

Since Percy and Sally had made breakfast, Foggy cleaned up, leaving the two of them to change into swim clothes. They went out to the beach to wait for him, and Percy stuck his feet in the wet sand and smiled. Sally sat beside him, and they played tic-tac-toe until he came out.

“So how do we do this?” Foggy asked, in swim shorts and an oversized tee. “Do we grow gills?”

Percy laughed and shook his head. “Air bubble,” he said, standing up. He held out his hands, and Sally grabbed his right hand while Foggy grabbed his left. Something about it made him ridiculously happy. “I can’t help you breathe water like I can, so this is the next best thing.”

Sally smiled broadly. “Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.”

Percy smiled back, and then pulled both of them into the ocean. After a few minutes of wading straight out, their heads went under, and Percy formed a large bubble within seconds.

“Oh,” Foggy breathed.

Sally’s hand gripped Percy’s, and when he looked up, her eyes were sparkling as she took in the vast sea floor – the ripples of light, schools of fish, a few sharks and a whale or two in the distance.

“Beautiful,” she said softly, turning her head to follow a whale’s progress into the distance. With her free hand, she reached out, fingers slipping out of the air bubble. A few fish came to nibble on her fingertips, and she actually giggled. “I forgot how lively it is down here.”

“It’s amazing,” Percy agreed enthusiastically. He propelled them toward, bringing them a few feet deeper and into even livelier waters, just where their toes could find the colorful sea flora. Foggy kicked at it and laughed in surprise as kelp tangled around his foot.

“I’m not even wet,” Foggy said with wonder. Percy smiled.

“That, I can do,” he said.

“Sea turtles!” Sally exclaimed, pointing.

Percy lit up. The sea turtles were only just beginning to arrive for the warm months, but they were some of his favorites to talk to. He tugged on Foggy’s hand, distracting him from the crab he’d found and was shuffling away from, and kicked them over to the small family passing through.

“You’re early,” he said, and laughed when the two younger turtles came and stuck their heads into the air bubble, snapping in excitement. He leaned against his mom so he could keep contact while he released her hand, pushing the baby turtles gently back into the water.

Fishing nets abound in our foraging grounds, the mother turtle said. Better to be here, son of the sea.

Percy winced in sympathy. “There should be a little less waste this year,” he said, thinking of Tony’s push toward city cleanup. “Talk to the hippocampi if you really need help. They know how to contact me.”

I know, son of the sea. You are good to us.

The turtle stayed still while Sally reached out to stroke her shell with clear admiration, and then swept her children under her fin and ushered them along. Both of them waved as they left.

“Sea turtles,” Sally sighed, looking contented and pleased.

“That’s incredible,” Foggy agreed. “What did they say?”

“There’s a lot of fishing nets in their foraging grounds, so they decided to move on early,” Percy explained. “I don’t blame them. Dropped fishing nets are a huge hazard for fish. Stupid lazy fishermen.”

“I guess you’d know all about that, huh?” Foggy said ruefully. Percy nodded.

“I met the Ophiotaurus because he got caught in a net,” he said. “Poor Bessie. They get hippocampi sometimes too.” He turned his head, wanting to move away from the depressing subject. “Hey, whale!”

They spent over an hour flitting around the sea floor, talking to and sometimes petting the various wildlife - the whale even let them ride on her back for a little while. Foggy begged off when both Sally and Percy wanted to play with the sharks, so Percy let him off at the beach and he went inside to make lunch. When they finally came back, Foggy was sitting on a beach towel with a large Tupperware of sandwiches, fully clothed again.

A car drove down the road while they were eating, which was so unusual that it made Percy tense. His heart skipped a beat when it stopped by their cabin.

Someone got out.

“Rachel?” he asked aloud, surprised. Outside of the quest in the labyrinth, they mostly just interacted during charity functions.

Sally turned to look, and Foggy looked over his shoulder. Rachel said something to the driver, who pulled a respectful distance away from the cabin and then parked. That done, Rachel turned toward them and headed over, carrying something in her arms. A book – no, her sketchbook. Percy recognized it now.

“You’re really hard to find, you know that?” Rachel said to him, annoyed. Percy tilted his head. “I had to call Annabeth.”

“Um, why?” Percy asked, bemused.

Rachel ignored him and looked around, taking in the beach and the cabins. Then she looked at Foggy and Sally. “I need to borrow Percy for a minute.”

Sally gave Percy a concerned look, but Percy shrugged, getting to his feet. “Sure. We can talk by the cabin if you want. What’s up?”

Again, Rachel didn’t answer. She got to her feet, and both of them walked up to the cabin porch, where they sat down. She opened her sketchbook, and something about the image inside caught Percy’s attention immediately.

“Tell me what you think of these,” Rachel said, and started flipping through her sketchbook.

The first image was of a child – Percy thought it was Luke, maybe eight or nine years old. The next was a scythe charm. Then a bloody knife, clearly Annabeth’s. Then Percy, snarling at something off the side of the page, in what looked like Central Park. As he continued to remain silent, Rachel started tapping her foot.

“Well?” she demanded.

“...I don’t know,” he admitted, shifting to see a little better. “They feel...”

“They feel important, right?” Rachel said. “But I can’t figure out why.”

Percy nodded, studying the pictures. “I dunno,” he repeated, looking up to meet her eyes again. “I mean...” He flipped back. “That’s Luke. And that’s Annabeth’s knife. But why you saw them...” He shrugged. “Sorry.”

Rachel sighed, staring down at the sketches. “I’ve been having dreams,” she said. “That’s not normal, is it? Does your mom have dreams like this?”

“Not that she’s told me,” Percy said, “but I haven’t asked. You want to go talk to her?”

“...Yeah,” Rachel decided.

Sally was already looking at them, worried and shifty, but she relaxed when they came over. Percy smiled, trying to reassure her, and sat on the towel with a gesture inviting Rachel to join them. She did, wrinkling her nose as sand crept into her shoes.

“Hey, Mom?” Percy said. “Do you ever have weird dreams?”

Sally furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

Percy wasn’t sure. He looked at Rachel, who looked away.

“...Dreams about things you shouldn’t know,” she said reluctantly. “Things that are real.”

Foggy’s brow furrowed too, and he glanced at Sally. Sally hesitated, which made Percy sit up.

“Very rarely,” Sally said at last, fiddling with the corner of the towel. “I... dreamed about Percy the entire time I was pregnant with him.” She glanced at Percy, who hid a smile, and she smiled back briefly. “Other than that- only twice. About a month before I met Gabriel, and around a week before I had to rush Percy to camp.”

Foggy stared at her. Rachel shifted again, looking down at her sketchbook.

“I’m not sure what it all means,” she said, thumbing the page. “It’s just... strange.”

Percy nodded. “I’ll talk to some people about it,” he reassured her, figuring she was more rattled than she was letting on. She had followed him all the way to Montauk, after all. “It’s not nothing. Clearsighted mortals see things even demigods don’t, remember?”

Rachel snorted, relaxing visibly. “Like I could ever forget.”

She looked relieved. Percy didn’t mention that either.

Rachel left not long after that – something about a function her father was forcing her to attend. Percy stared at the waves crashing further out in the sea, thinking. Sally reached down to squeeze his hand.

“Percy?” she prompted softly. Percy brow was pinched together, and he barely noticed.

“Annabeth’s knife,” he murmured. Not Riptide, or Kronos’ scythe, or even Backbiter. “Why would she dream about Annabeth’s knife?”

It had been bloodied in an odd way, too – like she’d tried to stab someone, but only about half an inch of the tip had sunk in. That wasn’t like her. And for Rachel to dream about it, and Percy to recognize it...

“Hey.” Sally pressed her thumb to Percy’s forehead, smoothing it out. He blinked and looked at her. “All of that can wait until Monday. You need room to breathe. Everything is going to be okay. Do you want to go and pick a board game to bring out here?”

Percy took a deep breath, and then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

Chapter Text

“How many agents have been planted around your apartment?” Natasha asked.

It wasn’t the first time Natasha had asked him this question, so Percy was ready for it. “I think... three?” he said hesitantly. “There’s two guys in a car parked across the street and an electrician that hasn’t been doing anything.”

“Four,” Natasha said. “There’s a new tenant in the apartment next door. Still, not bad. You’re observant.”

Percy smiled a little and followed her into the car. It was a familiar routine by now, and he was almost comfortable with it, looking forward to training with the Avengers. His nerves had even calmed down enough for him to properly appreciate how cool it was.

“Can I ask you a question?” Percy asked as they settled in. Natasha raised an eyebrow and nodded at him. “Have you ever had prophetic dreams?”

“I’m not a demigod,” Natasha pointed out mildly, maneuvering the car onto the road.

“Mom said she did,” Percy said. Natasha stayed quiet for a moment, and Percy figured she was deciding whether or not to be honest.

“Yes, I have,” she said at last. “Those dreams, along with the monsters, helped me separate my own identity from the one the Red Room wanted me to have.” She glanced at Percy. “I could see the monsters. They couldn’t.”

Percy was surprised that Natasha had been that open with him. He smiled at her gratefully. “Rachel came to Montauk this weekend to show me some stuff,” he explained. “Drawings she’d made after dreams. But I don’t wanna bring it up if they’ll think it’s silly.”

“What did you think of them?” Natasha asked him.

Percy fidgeted with the door handle. “They felt important,” he said. “I don’t know why, but I’m sure of it. They mean something.”

“Then that’s that,” Natasha said. “Your instincts are good.”

Percy smiled at the window.

They attracted some stares on the way through the lobby, but Percy had gotten used to that, and it didn’t bother him anymore. He waved at the camera in the elevator. “Hey, FRIDAY. Everyone home?”

“Hello, Mr. Jackson, Ms. Romanov,” FRIDAY said cheerfully. “Vision and Ms. Maximoff have gone out for the day, but everyone else is present and ready for you in training room. Would you like me to inform them of your arrival?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Percy said.

“You’ve gotten comfortable here,” Natasha noted. Percy reddened.

“I like training with you guys,” he mumbled, scuffing the floor. “It makes me feel like I’m ready for anything.”

“The talent is yours,” Natasha said. “In both battle and leadership.”

That delighted Percy, and the elevator stopped before he had to think of something to say. It wasn’t far from there to the gym, and Percy could see that the Avengers were already training – routine stuff for them, Rhodey forcing Tony to keep up his hand-to-hand, Bucky and Thor wrestling in the ring, Sam and Clint running some kind of teamwork drill Percy couldn’t figure out. Steve gestured from beside the ring for Percy to join him, so Percy jogged over.

“Hey, Percy,” Steve said. “How’d the weekend go? You get a good chance to center yourself?”

Percy gave him an embarrassed smile and nodded. “It was nice,” he admitted. “But Rachel came by. I wanna tell you about it when everyone’s together.”

Steve nodded, then gestured to the match in front of them. “What can you see about that matchup?”

Like with a lot of their training sessions, they focused on tactics for the next few hours; Rhodey said that Percy had a clever mind and a knack for strategy. So Percy spent almost half an hour analyzing Bucky and Thor’s respective strengths and weaknesses, and how they were adapting to compete. Then he and Thor swapped places, and Percy sparred with Bucky, sword against bare hands. Then Percy took Sam’s place, verbally guiding Clint through a course.

They took a break late in the afternoon, settling in the common area with their preferred post-workout snacks. Percy was one of the last to sit down, with a blueberry smoothie. Someone put on Modern Family, but it was quickly muted.

“Luke, a scythe charm, Annabeth’s knife, and... and me. In Central Park.” Percy fidgeted with his straw and drank some of his smoothie while they processed that.

“I’m sorry, am I missing something?” Bruce asked plaintively. Still recovering from being the dormant personality, Bruce was having a lot of trouble keeping up in conversation. But Clint shook his head.

“Prophetic dreams are always pretty vague,” he said. “It won’t make sense until it’s time.” He tapped his knee, frowning. “Luke is hosting Kronos, and a scythe is Kronos’ symbol of power. Don’t know what Annabeth’s knife has to do with anything.”

“Prophetic dreams?” Bruce asked. Tony snapped his fingers.

“Right, you weren’t here the first time the kid came over,” he said. “Most demigods have some extrasensory awareness. Percy’s got that in spades, so it pays to listen to his gut.” Percy had to fight not to beam. “I don’t know about clearsighted mortals though. Rhodey?”

Rhodey shook his head. “Not much. A gut feeling here and there.”

“Percy probably got the gift from his mother,” Natasha said. “She’s only had a few explicit visions, but her instincts are nearly as good as his. I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility of Rachel having even more.”

“There’s nothing we can base a plan on,” Steve added, looking at Percy. “But remember what she showed you, maybe suggest she keep a dream journal. She came to you for a reason.”

“Does Thor have visions?” Bruce asked, evidently still distracted.

“I am not enough of Midgard to see its future,” Thor said, with a half-eaten slice of cold pizza on his lap. “And prophecy has never been a particular gift of mine. Loki, and my mother and father- yes. All of them had visions often.” Grief weighed down his voice. “Clint is correct. You will not understand until it is time for you to act. But that is when you will need that knowledge most.”

Percy’s mind flitted back to his first prophecy, when he’d stood face to face with his frozen mother and understood. You will fail to save what matters most, in the end. Could he have made that decision without that push? He honestly didn’t know.

“Demigod shit is weird,” Sam said, cutting into the dark mood. “What if you don’t believe in fate, huh? Anyone ever tried to defy a prophecy?”

“Dude, Greek myths are full of people that thought they could change fate,” Clint said. “It doesn’t work out. Ever. Work with the prophecy and it’ll work with you, but don’t try and fight it.”

Percy nodded. “I’ve been involved in four prophecies,” he said, playing with the rim of his glass. “Every line in every one of them came true, whether we wanted it or not.” He squeaked the rim with his thumb. “Even when we thought we understood, we were usually wrong. You never have all the information.”

“You’re still trying to get Percy out of this,” Steve said. Percy started, and Sam sighed without looking at them.

“It doesn’t make sense to me,” he admitted. “It doesn’t make sense that a kid is the only one that can save the world. Look at us – we were enough every other time shit went down. Why not now?”

“Fate,” Thor said unexpectedly. They looked at him. He’d finished his pizza and now looked more serious. “It took me many centuries to learn this, but not every war is won in battle. I suspect that Percy will find himself in a position where he is uniquely able to turn the tides of war, perhaps through trickery, or compassion. He is talented with both, after all.”

“That’s still a lot to put on a kid his age,” Sam said.

Percy stayed quiet, sipping his blueberry smoothie. As far as he knew, the current plan was to leave Percy at camp as long as possible, where he and the other kids would be guarding it from any attackers. The invasion itself would be handled by the Avengers and a special task force that General Talbot had put together and Rhodey was leading with an adult demigod they’d dug up somewhere. Beckendorf had spent the past couple months forging celestial bronze into military-standard weaponry for them. When the invasion reached a climax, Percy would fly in on Blackjack and... figure out what he needed to do.

Percy didn’t think it was gonna work out like that. There was no telling what he’d need to do, or when; he needed to be there. Even with the support of the Avengers, Percy had a terrible feeling that Nico’s plan was their best bet.

Could he take on hundreds of monsters with the help of the Avengers and a troop of well-armed mortal soldiers? Sure, probably. Could he take on Kronos?

He coughed and scrunched up his face, and Clint laughed at him.

“Kid’s got brain freeze,” Clint said, while Percy was holding his head and trying to will it away. Percy stuck out his tongue, but couldn’t help laughing too.

After Clint called to let them know they’d sunk the Princess Andromeda, Sally dropped Percy off at the edge of camp. He hugged her tightly before she could leave, and she ran her fingers through his hair one last time.

“I love you,” she said, “and I believe in you.”

“I love you too,” he managed. “See you soon.”

He stepped away before he could start crying, and headed toward the Big House. It was a while before he heard his mom start the car again.

The war room was overcrowded, full of all the camp counselors, plus Clint and Tony, plus a few adult demigods that Percy had never seen before, all in fatigues. The air hummed with nervous energy.

Despite the crowding, there was still a seat at the actual table. Percy took the hint and sat down. Only a few seconds later, Bucky walked in late, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“Supplies,” he said, setting it across the table. “Traps, comm units, burner phones, grenades. Should be everything you need to coordinate a defense.”

“Isn’t that a bit much?” Clint asked. “Camp isn’t that big.”

Bucky grimaced. “Had a dream last night,” he admitted, stepping back against the wall. He crossed his arms. “Wasn’t real clear, but it looks like they’ll have their hands full, and we won’t be able to lend a hand. I want to make sure they’re prepared.”

Beckendorf stood and leaned over the bag, rummaging through its contents for a few minutes. “I can figure this stuff out,” he said decisively. “Thanks.” Bucky nodded.

“Keep me in the loop,” Annabeth said, drawing Percy’s attention to her. Beckendorf nodded distractedly and tugged the duffel bag to the floor in front of him.

“Percy,” Chiron said. Percy tensed. Chiron looked solemn. “I believe it is time. Annabeth- you know where it is.”

An ice cube dropped into Percy’s stomach, and he nodded and followed Annabeth up to the attic. A few minutes later, they were back at the table, and Percy was unfolding a small slip of paper. When he looked up, one glance told him that none of the adult demigods had ever heard this prophecy before either; they were all too tense.

He looked down.

“A half-blood of the eldest dogs...” He shook his head like a dog, grimacing at the mistake. “Eldest gods... shall reach sixteen against all odds...” His heart was hammering, like a giant eagle trapped in his chest. “And see the world in endless sleep... the hero’s soul, cursed blade shall... shall reap...” He swallowed, panicked images flickering behind his eyes – Riptide, Backbiter, Kronos’ scythe.

“Finish it, Percy,” Chiron murmured. Percy swallowed again and almost dropped the parchment. So this was the prophecy he’d been waiting three years to learn.

“A single choice shall e-end his days... Olympus to pre... per...”

“Olympus to preserve or raze,” Annabeth finished for him. He set his hands down hard on the table, acutely feeling everyone’s eyes on him. It would be really embarrassing to start crying or freaking out in front of all this... everybody.

He looked up.

For the most part, the other kids all looked as lost as he felt. Clarisse was glaring at the table. Silena was covering her mouth. A few others, like Katie and the Stolls, looked a little afraid. No reassurance there. He looked at the adults next.

There were three grown demigods that Percy didn’t recognize. If he had to guess from their appearances, he’d say a son of Ares, a son of Athena, and a daughter of Hephaestus. All of them looked stony and frustrated; it reminded Percy of when Annabeth was reworking a plan.

Bucky looked grim, but unsurprised. Clint looked angry, fists clenched on the table. Tony was scowling too, but it looked more like concentration than any kind of anger. Percy swallowed.

“Great,” he said. “I’m glad we gathered everyone here today to learn that I’m going to die.”

He wished he’d hugged his mom for longer.

“I didn’t want you to hear this any sooner than necessary,” Chiron said quietly. “It was hard enough for you to know the choice that you would have to make.”

“Great,” Percy said. He dropped the parchment like it was on fire, and Annabeth grabbed it and wrapped it back up, like she could hide the contents from him.

“So there’s nothing we can act on,” Clint said. “All that did was scare the kid.”

“You know what, I probably would have noticed if everyone kept hiding the prophecy right up until my birthday.” Percy covered his face with one hand and took a deep breath. He wished everyone wasn’t staring at him. “Fine. Fine. It is what it is, I guess. Can we talk about something else? Do we have any other great news?”

Screw it. If he was going to die either way, then he had nothing to lose by going along with Nico’s plan. If he died, at least he wouldn’t turn sixteen.

“Steve, I need an anti-drinking buddy,” Tony announced as soon as he was out of the elevator. “In fact, let’s make it an anti-drinking party, because this is blackout quality news but unfortunately we’re on duty for the next week.” He went to the bar to collect a bottle of apple juice and a shot glass. Hey, he had to cope somehow.

“It went poorly, I take it,” Vision murmured, emerging from the kitchen to look concerned. Tony collapsed on the couch, Clint climbed into a vent, and Bucky went to stand in a corner. “I see.”

The others were turning to look, abandoning the TV program they were watching together. Thor’s brow was furrowed heavily, and Sam looked borderline anxious. Tony covered his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to work up some willpower for once.

“For the most part, no new information,” Bucky said at last, rescuing him. “But it looks like Percy might not survive this prophecy.”

“Wh- weren’t you talking just last week about how you never know what a prophecy means?” Sam demanded. He looked angry, which Tony figured was justified.

Bucky nodded. “It’s not set in stone,” he agreed. “But it doesn’t look good for him either.”

“How bad?” Wanda asked quietly.

“The hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap,” Tony recited without looking at anyone. “A single choice shall end his days, Olympus to preserve or raze. So, pretty bad.”

“How did he take it?” Rhodey asked. Clint poked his head out of the vent.

“He’s pissed, obviously,” Clint said. “Terrified, more importantly, but he did a decent job of hiding it. It seems like he decided to focus on the battle ahead instead of the prophecy.” He shrugged. “It’s as much as we could hope for, honestly. Prophecy like that, we’re lucky he didn’t run screaming.”

“He will be honored as a hero on the shores of Elysium,” Thor said, solemn and uncharacteristically quiet. “He faces his death with courage.”

Tony shook his head without uncovering his eyes. “He might not die,” he said, since someone had to. His quick mind had found plenty of openings, lines in the prophecy that could be taken another way, that could be misleading – but he couldn’t tell how much of that was wishful thinking.

An alarm went off in the silence that followed.

“More bad news, boss,” FRIDAY said. “Emergency in New Mexico, where Thor first touched down. Early news reports are warning locals about portals and Chitauri tech.”

Of-fucking-course. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Chapter Text

“This is the biggest puppy I’ve ever seen! We are not keeping it!”

Mrs. O’Leary thumped her tail against the wall, shaking the pictures, and Percy managed a laugh. He nudged Nico in the direction of the kitchen, then got to helping free the grown-ups in the living room – Sally and Foggy, who he’d been expecting, and then for some reason Natasha and Matt too. Natasha caught his eye as she passed by.

“Your mom needed some moral support,” she explained, earning her a grateful smile from Percy. He looked at Matt.

“I figured I should stand by,” he said, fingers tight around his bronze cane. “Once things are in motion, I need to touch bases with the local heroes, get them into place.”

“They’re in motion,” Percy told him.

In a few more minutes, they’d settled around the table. A plate of cookies had manifested at some point, and Percy picked at them while Nico explained why they were there.

“No,” Foggy said, as soon as Percy was done. “No, no, no- Percy, that’s crazy. That’s insane.”

“You don’t get a vote,” Percy snapped, more harshly than he’d meant to. Foggy shut up, but that just made his worry more apparent, which made Percy feel like kind of an asshole. He took a deep breath, and then told Sally, “I... feel like I need to do this. I have to. It might be our only chance. But I can’t do it without your blessing.”

Sally looked anguished, and it was written across her face that she agreed with Foggy in full. Percy looked away guiltily, chest tightening.

“Percy... I...” Sally’s hand clenched and unclenched over her chest.

“Sally,” Natasha cut in softly, surprising all of them. She met Sally’s eyes. “Think of what he’s doing. It’s not just our best chance. It’s his.” Sally bit her lip. “Believe in his strength. That’s what you’ve always done.”

Percy held his breath, and after an endless, painful moment, Sally nodded.

“I give you my blessing,” she said.

He hugged her for longer this time.

Halfway to New Mexico, the itching uncertainty in Tony’s spine roared to life, and he all but screeched to a halt in midair. Clint, ever the pilot, pulled a similar maneuver right after, and they both started back toward New York.

“Not that I object, but why are we turning around?” Clint asked over the comms.

“It’s a trap,” Tony said, diverting extra power to his thrusters. “They call Kronos the Crooked One for a reason. FRIDAY has been searching for information since we set out, and she just broke through the signal jam. Nothing. No chatter. No alarms. It’s goddamn paradise in New Mexico right now. And guess who we’ve left in New York?”

Muffled swearing all but blew out the microphone, and Clint hit the gas too.

An hour later, Major Ashbury called them and confirmed his worst suspicions.

“We need you back here now,” the son of Athena said tersely. “Someone cast a spell over Manhattan, maybe Morpheus – every mortal is down for the count, including Colonel Rhodes. Me, Jen, and Giovanni are going in.”

“You can’t go on your own, that’s suicide,” Clint snapped from the jet.

“We’re not alone,” Ashbury said. “Percy called in the senior campers right before it happened – no word why just yet. We need to help them.”

Clint cursed violently.

“I’ll contact Doctor Strange,” Tony said. “He should be able to counter whatever’s going on out there. Just hold out until we catch up.”

“Roger. I’ll keep you posted.”

Clint kept swearing, and a few tones chimed as the other Avengers began activating their comm units to join the conversation.

“Clint, Tony, what’s happening?” Steve demanded.

“Someone put Manhattan to sleep,” Clint said. “Every mortal is down for the count, but the demigods are still awake.”

“Wouldn’t they want the other way around?” Sam asked.

“It’s harder to cast magic on demigods than mortals,” Tony said. “And it’s not like they’re trying to avoid a fight. They just want the mortals out of the way.”

“What news of our brethren?” Thor asked, low and serious.

“Keith said he and the other two demigods are going in,” Clint said. “Sounds like he thinks Percy called in a defense. We should hear back from them when they know more.”

Sure enough, about twenty minutes later, Ashbury was back on the line.

“Jackson took charge,” he reported. He sounded slightly out of breath, so Tony guessed he was on the move. “The river spirits are sinking their boats and there’s demigods on every bridge and tunnel. Artemis’ hunters are here too, and Grover is rallying the nature spirits. I’m going to go help Apollo on Williamsburg Bridge. Jen and Giovanni are reinforcing Hermes on the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridges.”

“Where’s Percy?” Tony asked.

“On standby,” Ashbury said. “Working on plan twenty-three, I think. He and Annabeth each have a comm unit, and so do all the counselors. They’ll come in where they’re needed.”

“I don’t remember plan twenty-three,” Clint said. “Or one through twenty-two.”

“Annabeth got it off Daedalus’ laptop. If they can get all the automatons active and fighting for us, numbers won’t be such a dire issue anymore.”

“More on that later,” Steve said firmly. “Were you able to get in touch with any of the local heroes?”

“Daredevil’s with me, says the rest are all asleep. Did you know he has enhanced senses? He can hear everything in the whole damn city. He’s monitoring the situation and reporting any major changes.” Ashbury’s voice darkened. “Kronos is moving his forces away from our strong points and toward the weaker cabins. Might have a spy on our hands. I’m trying to compensate, but we don’t have a lot to work with.”

“We’ll get to that when we get to it,” Tony said, though his heart was sinking. “How are the kids doing?”

“They’re alive.” Ashbury’s voice was grim. “Until we have backup, that’s as much as we can hope for. Setting as many traps as we can is keeping casualties to a minimum. Travis said to thank you for that, Barnes. Beckendorf passed them off to the Hermes cabin.”

“Good choice,” Bucky muttered. “If there’s anyone that knows how to set traps...”

Ashbury laughed, and then disconnected.

The next couple hours passed with one call after another. Tony called General Talbot and the UN to let them know what was happening, and then tried Rhodey. No answer. Ashbury reconnected to let them know that the Apollo kids were being overwhelmed, but Percy had dropped in with what Ashbury called ‘unnatural strength and skill.’ He checked in again when Kronos appeared, and again after Williamsburg Bridge was destroyed. Last Tony had heard from him, he was directing the kids to set up camp in a hotel near the Empire State Building.

Doctor Strange touched down an hour after the Avengers, with a team of what appeared to be other sorcerers in tow.

“I leave New York for one day...” he muttered, joining them at the edge. “Any news from inside?”

“Constant updates, luckily,” Tony said, tapping his earpiece now that he was out of the armor. “Monster forces have withdrawn for now. If we’re lucky, Kronos will bide his time until nightfall, which gives us plenty of time to get in. Need anything from us?”

Doctor Strange shook his head. One of the men with him elbowed him sharply, and he scowled at them, but nodded.

“You and any other Greek demigods present should stay nearby,” he said. “We can use your auras to acclimate to the resonance of the magic in question. They should be enough alike to stand as reference.”

That didn’t mean much to Tony, but he nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll let Barnes and Clint know.”

Both of them were pacing restlessly; no surprise there. Tony was too old to join in, but he sat down and fidgeted with his homing bracelet, staring a hole into the spell. There was a faint contortion in the air where it began, like a fishbowl; as he watched, a bird flew into it and slowed immediately to a near-halt.

Ashbury reconnected, and Tony sat bolt upright, drawing everyone’s attention.

“We have a casualty list,” Ashbury said, brisk and grim. Tony gestured for the other two to turn on their comm units and listened in the mounting tension. “Forty-eight kids came to Manhattan. Right now, we have three dead, two missing, and two severely injured.”

“Who’s dead?” Clint demanded before Tony could.

“Evelyn Best, Colin Fielding, and George Edison are dead,” Ashbury said. Clint swore, pressing his palm to his forehead. “Michael Yew and Butch Walker are missing. Some of their siblings are out looking for them. Annabeth Chase took a poisoned dagger. Will Solace stabilized her, but she’s in rough shape. Nathan LeBlanc got mauled by a hellhound. He needs help sooner rather than later.” Ashbury took a deep breath. “How close are you?”

“Everyone’s here,” Bucky cut in, voice calm. “The wizards are working on opening the barrier. I bet they can reverse the sleep spell too.”

Ashbury exhaled. “I’ll get someone ready to take them to Task Force Alpha,” he said. “We weathered the first wave, but I don’t know if we can take another hit like that.”

“Copy that,” Clint said. “Need any supplies?”

“Arrows,” Ashbury said instantly. “The hunters have started sharing, but the Apollo cabin is nearly cleaned out, and you know how the hunters are. We’re running low on traps too.”

“We’ll bring in what we can,” Bucky said. “I have some stockpiles in the city.”

“How’s Percy doing?” Tony asked. “I can’t imagine he took Annabeth’s injury well.”

“Better than I expected. I’m impressed with his ability to compartmentalize. His mind is on the fight, and you’re right – he’s a natural strategist.”

“And now?”

“Sleeping. I’m keeping an eye on the enemy camps, and Jen and Giovanni are covering the perimeter with some hunters. The Demeter cabin took over cooking, and the Apollo kids are tending to injuries. Some of the Hermes kids did a run for medical supplies – ran into a hellhound, but they took care of it fine.”

Tony rubbed his face with a groan. “This is such a clusterfuck. This was the last thing that was supposed to happen.”

“Once Doctor Strange wakes up my men, we’ll evacuate them,” Ashbury said firmly, hesitated, then added, “We should keep Percy with us.”

Tony hissed through his teeth, but he understood Ashbury’s reasoning. “Guess we are getting up to that time, aren’t we?”

“Not just that,” Ashbury said. “Percy took the Curse of Achilles. If he was a monster with a sword before, he’s a force of nature now. Routed two hundred monsters on Williamsburg Bridge by himself, including the minotaur.”

“Who let him do that?” Clint demanded.

“Don’t know,” Ashbury admitted. “There’s no point asking now. It’s done and he survived. We can find out the details once we’re on the other side.”

A glowing line shot up between the two rows of wizards, and they started to pull it apart like a seam, ripping open the magic that encased the city.

“Door’s open,” Tony said. “We’re going in.”

It didn’t go exactly the way Ashbury had hoped it would.

“Are you kidding me?” Clarisse demanded. “I’m not leaving! This fight isn’t over!”

“You did your part by fighting off the first wave,” Ashbury said. “You did an incredible job, but your part is done. Task Force Alpha has been training for this fight for the last eight months. We’ll take it from here.”

“Like hell!” Clarisse snapped. “I’ve been fighting for Camp Half-Blood since I was ten! I’m not stopping now!”

“What is that, five years?” Sam muttered. Clarisse scowled at him.

“Got a problem with that?”

“Look at your friends and siblings, Clarisse,” Vision said, stepping forward to catch her attention. He met her eyes without flinching. “There are so many injuries already, and they will grow exponentially with each bout as you tire. You are also not developmentally prepared for this battle. Your youth makes you more vulnerable to the trauma of loss and fear. We are not asking you to retreat out of spite.”

Despite herself, Clarisse glanced at the campers strewn around the lobby, and her jaw clenched. Her hand tightened around her spear.

“You can’t cut me out of this fight,” Clarisse said at last, voice lower but no less intense. “It’s too late. I’m in it. We’re all in it. We need to see this through.”

“I don’t,” Travis volunteered, spinning a knife in his hands. “We’ve already lost two campers. We don’t need to lose any more.” He flipped his knife, caught it, and grinned. It didn’t hide the uncharacteristic seriousness in his eyes. “We did what we came here to do. Let’s quit while we’re ahead and go home, yeah?”

“Let the counselors stay if they want to,” Percy said suddenly. He shrugged when they looked at him, fidgeting with Riptide. He had a subtle aura to him that he hadn’t before – Tony thought that even if Ashbury hadn’t said so, he would have known something was different. “All of us are like Clarisse. We’ve been on the front lines of this fight since Luke betrayed us. We have to finish it.”

Tony hated it, he hated the idea- but he understood too. Camp Half-Blood was home, and fighting was in their blood. It was a terrible thing for children to have to fight for their lives, but that was the world they lived in right now. One glance at Clint said he agreed.

“This isn’t a yes,” Steve warned. “But who would want to?”

All of the counselors had drifted over when they started arguing the question of evacuation, and they looked around at each other now.

“I’ll stay,” Beckendorf volunteered at last, looking up from the sword he was repairing. The grip had splintered. “I don’t have to be in the thick of it. I can make traps, fix weapons. But I want to be here.”

“Me too,” Silena said instantly, bouncing her knee and fidgeting with a necklace.

“Same here,” Will agreed, though he looked pale and tired. “I want to help where I still can. As a medic or as an archer.”

Katie wavered, then shook her head. “I need to take my campers home,” she said. Conner and Travis made sounds of agreement.

“Annabeth won’t leave,” Percy added, leaning on the wall. “Like, I’d love it if she did, but she’s not gonna.”

Ashbury made a frustrated sound, then shook his head.

“I’ll leave the final decision up to Colonel Rhodes,” he said at last. “Daredevil should be back with him and the rest of the task force within the hour. I... understand why you feel you have to do this.”

Tony thought Sam was going to object, but when he glanced over, his clenched jaw said he understood too.

“Go rest up for now,” Ashbury added. “You’ve had a long night, and if Rhodes agrees, you have another one ahead of you.”

The kids all drifted off without complaint, even Clarisse. Sam rubbed his forehead.

“Did we seriously just agree to let a bunch of teenagers stay because they insisted?” he asked the room. Clint shook his head.

“They’re right,” he said. “It’s too late for them. They’ve been running missions for this war for the past two years. Longer, depending on how you count. They need closure more than anything.”

“Are you still gonna feel that way if one of them dies?” Sam asked sharply.

“They’re demigods,” Clint snapped back. “Demigods die.”

“They’re kids!”

“Monsters don’t care! Do you know how many of the siblings I went to camp with are still alive? None! Not one of them lived to be an adult, and that was without Kronos! They don’t stand a chance as it is!”

Sam shut up, though he still looked frustrated and mutinous. Clint rubbed his face and forced himself to relax, scowling faintly.

“We can’t have it both ways,” Clint said at last. “We didn’t want them to have to do any of this, but they did. If we send them away now, they’ll always feel like there’s something missing.”

“It would be an insult to their honor as heroes,” Thor agreed. “They have earned in blood their right to stand beside us.”

Sam shook his head in clear frustration, then looked at Steve. “What do you think?” His tone made it clear he would defer to Steve’s decision.

Steve hesitated for a moment, then nodded firmly. “They’re teenagers, not toddlers,” he said. “They’re mature enough to understand what they’re risking and why they’re risking it. If Colonel Rhodes clears it, I think they can stay.”

Sam exhaled harshly, but he nodded, and even relaxed as if to promise not to protest further.

Late in the morning, Rhodey finally appeared, leaving around two hundred men just outside the hotel. He looked irritated, more than Tony was used to seeing from him; he was definitely as irked about their misfortune as the rest of them.

“Daredevil took Doctor Strange to get a clinic running,” Rhodey said, apparently by way of greeting. “It’ll give the kids a place to retreat to for now. Then they’re going to go wake up the local heroes, should be here within an hour.”

Tony glanced up. “That should give us plenty of time to get ready. But hey, a couple of the kids wanted to stay behind, and it’s not a terrible idea-”

Halfway through the explanation, Thalia marched in, quickly followed by one of the soldiers. Thalia went straight to Percy, and the soldier to Rhodey, which Tony thought was very telling.

“I have something to report, sir,” the soldier said. Rhodey gave him a nod and an impatient gesture. “An enemy official came under a flag of truce. He insists that he will only speak to Percy Jackson.”

Across the room, Thalia was telling Percy the same thing. Rhodey pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I should’ve expected this bullshit,” he muttered. “Let’s go. We’re not sending him alone.”

Chapter Text

More than anything, what Rhodey found difficult about dealing with the Greek world was that all the rules were different. Not just the laws of reality, but the very basic structure of how to behave and what to assume. That was part of what Rhodey had spent the last eight months trying to teach his task force.

In the Greek world, fate took the wheel. Supernatural power meant authority in a way only money did in the mortal world. To defy fate was to invite the universe itself to punish you – nature, time, and karmic retribution.

Rhodey thought about that as Percy sat down across from the enemy representative and glared him down. Rhodey had to admit, that glare completely transformed Percy, and the normally sweet and goofy kid took on an aura that made it easy to imagine him going head-to-head with one of those big Chitauri space whales.

“You’ve impressed us with your skill as a commander, you know,” Prometheus told Percy, with unnerving warmth. “It’s no small feat to repel our forces when we outnumber you twenty to one. Kronos hasn’t stopped grumbling about your refusal to join us; you’d be a valuable asset.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” Percy said without flinching. “I thought Kronos would’ve figured that out by now.”

Prometheus inclined his head. “Indeed. Still, even a skilled commander takes losses in battle. Seventeen-year-old George Edison, son of Hephaestus. Fourteen-year-old Colin Fielding, unclaimed. Fifteen-year-old Evelyn Best, also unclaimed. And, if medical attention doesn’t reach him soon, fourteen-year-old Nathan LeBlanc.” Percy clenched his fists, his expression hardening. “I know. A tragic end to an equally tragic existence. Did you know them?”

“He did,” Ethan said, when Percy didn’t answer. “He taught Nathan swordsmanship, and George taught him how to wear armor when he first arrived at camp.”

Even Rhodey’s heart clenched at that, but Percy’s eyes just grew stormier.

“What do you want?” Percy asked.

“I want what you want, Percy,” Prometheus coaxed. “An end to the violence. How many friends are you willing to lose to this war? Are the gods truly worth it?”

Yeah, Rhodey wasn’t going to stand by and listen to this. He stepped up to just behind Percy and set a hand on his shoulder, meeting Prometheus’ eyes. Being so close made Rhodey’s hair stand on end; he could feel the titan’s power buzzing in the air.

“If you know who died, you also know that the kids are being evacuated,” he said calmly. Prometheus nodded.

“You’re taking them to the walk-in clinic on 36^th,” he agreed, sending a chill down Rhodey’s spine. “A wise decision, but it will leave them defenseless. They will be pinned down by the mortals they now need to protect.” He drew a small map of Manhattan with only his finger, showing their base, their armies, and the clinic in golden lines. “You plan to leave Daredevil and three squads to guard them. But we need only send a force of moderate strength to overcome that. A drakon, perhaps, or a hydra. Hyperion may even take the honors, for the chance to kill heroes. Can Daredevil stand against a titan?”

Under Rhodey’s hand, Percy’s muscles had wound tight enough to snap, but his glare stayed hard and defiant. “It’s not far. We’ll send them backup if they need it.”

“You saw how well the Avengers stood against hundreds when the Chitauri came,” Rhodey added, more for Percy’s benefit than Prometheus’. “All of those heroes and more are here now.”

“An interesting event,” Prometheus acknowledged. “It is very rare for mortals to produce heroes of their own. But I’m sure you feel it now, Colonel Rhodes. My very presence threatens to break down your skin. I assure you, it would be much worse in a fight.” He waved his hand. “Of course, I don’t do that sort of thing.”

“No,” Rhodey agreed. “You’re a negotiator, and a manipulator. And you think that you can manipulate Percy into surrendering.”

“Is it manipulation to tell the truth?” Prometheus asked. He looked at Percy. “Have I spoken a single lie during this conversation, Percy? Camp Half-Blood has never been more vulnerable. It would be such a waste of talent and potential for you to fall here. Stand down. Let Kronos take Olympus. The gods have done nothing for you, and you owe them nothing.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that he would stop there?” Percy challenged.

“Kronos has no desire to rule a world of ashes,” Prometheus said. “And he will let you blossom in a way that the gods never will. I will make sure of it. I could bring you into a new golden age – the dawn of a new and far greater civilization. Do you think fire is the only gift that the gods have kept from you? No. There are more.”

Even under the circumstances, the image caused a flicker in Rhodey, something between curiosity and desire. Fire had brought the dawn of civilization. What would that look like? What would it mean for humanity to leap so far forward?

Percy didn’t react. “We don’t need you,” he said. “The world we live in now is worth keeping. There is nothing you could offer us that we would miss.”

“It’s true that humans have come further than even I ever expected,” Prometheus agreed, tilting his head up to study the skyline. “But it all stands to be destroyed if Typhon is allowed to reach this beautiful city.” Percy stiffened. “Yes. You have, at best, two days. Not even your Avengers will be able to stop him. But you can.”

Percy’s breath caught.

“It’s cowardly,” Rhodey said. His skin tingled as Prometheus glanced up at him, but he met the titan’s eyes with strength. “Trying to win this fight by taking advantage of a fifteen-year-old – that’s a coward’s move.”

“It’s not cowardice,” Prometheus said mildly. “It’s compassion.”

Rhodey didn’t grace that with an answer. He squeezed Percy’s shoulder, and Percy looked up at him. Frustration kept his eyes dark and angry, but Rhodey could still feel his whipcord tension under his hand.

“You know why we’re here,” he said quietly. “You know what’s a stake. Stay strong.”

Percy nodded stiffly and looked back at Prometheus. Prometheus didn’t give him a chance to speak. Instead, he snapped his fingers, and a large black vase appeared on the table. Percy jumped.

“Do you know the story of Pandora, Colonel Rhodes?” Prometheus asked. As much as he didn’t want to play along, he nodded. “Can you repeat it?”

Greek monsters and their games.

“Pandora was given a box, and told not to open it,” Rhodey said. “When she did, it released every evil in the world – famine, disease, death.”

Prometheus waved his hand. “Oh, death is far older than this whole incident. But you have the basics correct. And it was never a box. It was a jar.” He set a hand on the black vase, and a chill ran down Rhodey’s spine. “One spirit remained. Do you remember which one?”

“Hope,” Percy said, when Rhodey didn’t. Prometheus nodded.

“This is my gift to you, Percy Jackson,” he said. “The gods gave Pandora this jar to punish humanity for its curiosity; they have always been treacherous. Give up Hope, and we will know that you have turned your back on them. Your forces will be spared. The suffering will end. And a new age will begin.”

“I don’t want it,” Percy said.

“It is too late,” Prometheus said simply. “The gift is given.”

“I’m re-gifting it,” Percy argued. Rhodey nearly choked. Prometheus just smiled.

“It is yours,” he said. He got to his feet, started to turn away, and then paused dramatically. “And Percy? Hermes has known Luke’s ultimate fate since May was cursed by the Oracle. I’m certain that your father knows yours as well.”

Prometheus had struck gold; Percy flinched. Prometheus didn’t stick around to watch, just waved the other monsters over and walked away.

When Rhodey looked down, Percy was staring, not at the jar or at Prometheus, but in the direction of the ocean.

It was a strange, desperate thought, but it was the best thing Percy could think of. He found Natasha in a room inside and sat beside her. She raised an eyebrow at him, looking up from her computer.

“You can change my mind, can’t you?” Percy asked, clenching and unclenching his hands nervously. Natasha’s other eyebrow went up.

“That’s not how people usually describe it,” she said.

Well, yeah, but that really wasn’t the point right now. “Can you make me believe that the gods are good?”

“You don’t?” Natasha asked. It sounded like an innocent question, but Percy got the feeling that she’d gone abruptly on alert. He took a deep breath.

“They’re awful,” he said, safely away from the other demigods. “They’re petty, and they don’t care about us. They don’t do anything that would help us, but they’ll take any excuse to hurt us. Look what’s happening here. And they don’t care. They’ve never cared.” He took another breath. “But I can’t afford to think about that right now. As bad as they are, they’re not the titans. I, I need to believe in them enough to keep making the right choices.”

Natasha closed her laptop and studied him thoughtfully. “You’re a very emotional person,” she noted. “Your mood controls you.” Percy nodded stiffly. “But you know that. That’s why you’re here.”

Percy nodded again. “They’re messing with me,” he said. “Kronos... he’s manipulative, and he’s been paying a lot of attention to me. He knows how to make me doubt myself. Doubt the gods, I mean.”

“Why haven’t you already changed your mind, then?” Natasha asked. Percy clenched his fists in his lap and scowled.

“Kronos is worse,” he said. “He’s evil. He’s attacked my friends and my home, and he abandoned Chris in the labyrinth, and every time I turn around he’s found a new and more sadistic monster to hunt us with.” He took a deep breath, then let it out. “We can’t trust him. He doesn’t want good things for anyone.”

“What makes the gods different?”

“They try,” Percy said. “I mean- they’re always trying to make choices that are good for us. They don’t want us to die, or even to have a really hard time. They just... they’re gods. They don’t understand what we need from them. They’re... they’re not hurting us on purpose.”

Natasha nodded. “Do you feel better now?”

Percy blinked, remembering what he’d come to Natasha for in the first place. He ran the conversation through his head again, and then smiled at her, tinged with embarrassment.

“I have no idea what you did,” he admitted, scratching his head sheepishly. “But thanks. I- yeah, I feel better.”

Natasha waved him away, and he left, steering toward the perimeter. He still felt too wired to sleep; most of the campers were being transferred to the clinic now, and he wouldn’t feel better until they’d gotten word that they’d arrived safely. Luckily, he still had his comm unit, as did the other counselors; they’d all hear it when Matt checked in. In the meantime, Percy poked around.

As if to compensate for their late arrival, the army guys patrolled the halls and perimeter in tight formation. A few of them had gone with Keith Ashbury on pegasi to harass the enemy camp with Greek fire and bronze grenades, but most of them were here, and it was piquing Percy’s curiosity. Percy wandered around until he found a guy that would loosen up enough to talk to him.

“How’d you get around the whole Mist issue?” Percy asked him, easily keeping up with his brisk pace. “There’s no way all of you are clearsighted.”

“We went through extensive training to see the world as it is,” the man, who’d introduced himself as Mark, said to him.

“I didn’t know that was a thing,” Percy said.

“You need to anticipate and accept what you are going to see before you see it,” he explained. “It took time, but everyone here managed to reach an acceptable degree of accuracy.”

“That’s cool,” Percy said. “I can’t always do that when I’m being attacked by monsters.”

“It’s inconsistent,” Mark admitted. “It’s helpful that most of the civilians are asleep for this.”

“How’d you get roped into this?” Percy asked. “It must’ve been weird if you didn’t know any of it beforehand.”

They paused at a corner, and Mark swept his gaze over the streets before they turned and kept going.

“Squads were handpicked based on their performance in urban environments and their interactions with civilians,” Mark said at last. “And then picked over again based on our reaction to the initial briefing. Once we were picked, they pulled us out to Fort Hamilton, the other forces got transferred out, and we spent eight months training to fight monsters.”

There was still a tinge of disbelief in his voice, which made Percy smile a little. “It’s crazy, right?” he said. “I remember it was like the alien thing all over again, only this time I was an alien too. It was more natural than anything else I’d ever done though.”

That was more personal than he’d meant to get, and he smiled sheepishly when Mark glanced down at him again.

“You’re one of the demigods, aren’t you?” Mark said. “Percy Jackson. The big one.”

Percy’s face heated up, and his stomach flipped as he fleetingly thought of the prophecy. “Um, I guess. Sorry. I didn’t introduce myself or anything, huh?”

“It’s alright,” Mark said. “What is it that you wanted to know?”

“Um.” Percy shrugged and glanced out over the street, looking at the hunters and soldiers patrolling not far from each other. “I was curious, I guess? When monsters attacked camp, we were pretty much on our own. We couldn’t even get in touch with Tony and Clint in time. And, no offense, but none of this is really your business except that some guys up top said so. Why are you here?”

It was ruder than he’d meant to be, but Mark only looked thoughtful. They paused again, surveyed the streets, and moved on around the corner.

“National security doesn’t stop being our business when things get weird,” Mark said at last. “We’ve been training for another Chitauri invasion for as long as I’ve been in service. I figure, monsters are just aliens with cloaking technology. They’re launching an invasion on US soil. And for some reason they want to kill kids, which makes ‘em easy to hate.”

“They want to eat us,” Percy informed him.

“That’s worse,” Mark said. “You see how that’s worse, right?”

Maybe it was a weird reaction, but Percy laughed. “Yeah, I guess.”

Another minute or so of quiet passed.

“What are you going to do after all this?” Mark asked.

A week ago, Percy would have said that he was going to study, go into marine rescue. Or that he’d go into the military first, serve for a few years and then study. Now, he felt his heart sink, and he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

His comm unit buzzed faintly.

“We’re at the clinic,” Matt reported. “Katie’s helping everyone get checked out, and Jessica and Luke are watching the perimeter. All clear for now.”

Relief drained the tension from Percy’s limbs, and with it came a wave of exhaustion.

“I don’t know,” he said to Mark. “I’m gonna get some sleep.”

Percy wanted to be cranky when he was rolled out of bed for the second time, but Beckondorf’s expression wiped that away pretty fast.

“I have something to tell you,” Beckendorf said carefully, “but you need to be cool about it.”

Percy woke up real fast, sat up, and took in Beckendorf’s grim expression and Silena’s tear-streaked one. He understood instantly. “You know who the spy is.”

Silena sobbed, and Beckendorf grabbed her hand, waxen but determined.

“What are you going to do to them?” Beckendorf asked. Percy rubbed his face and shook himself, willing his mind to work faster.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Depends on them, I guess. I mean, they gotta stop doing that, or we’re gonna be screwed. But there hasn’t been any other sabotage. As long as they don’t do anything else...” He shrugged.

Beckendorf nodded, took a deep breath, and said quickly, “It’s Silena.”

Percy blinked at him, eyes wide, and then looked at Silena. “...Silena?”

Silena stifled another sob, and then reached under her neckline and pulled out the pendant: a charm. A scythe charm, the one Rachel had drawn.

“Um, why?” It was a stupid question, but Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. He hadn’t had a list of suspects in his head or anything, not like Annabeth and Natasha probably did, but Silena?

“He promised me that fewer demigods would die this way,” Silena said, her voice very small. “We- we don’t owe our parents anything, Percy. And they haven’t been protecting us. I, I thought...” She swallowed, breath hitching again, and Beckendorf put his arm around her and hugged her protectively.

“I couldn’t think of anyone else to go to,” Beckendorf said quietly. “The Avengers, the army guys, they won’t understand. They don’t know Silena, and they haven’t been at camp lately. I thought you might know what to do.”

Percy turned that over in his head, trying to process it. “How’d you find out? Did she tell you?”

“I had a dream,” Beckendorf explained. “Of... of her arguing with Kronos.”

Percy looked at Silena.

“He lied,” she said, a little more steadily. “He hasn’t done anything to try to keep us from dying. S-so I started refusing to tell him anything. I, I didn’t tell him about the other heroes protecting our friends.”

Despite himself, Percy understood, and he softened to Silena.

“Give it to me,” he said, holding out one hand. “I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

Both of them relaxed, which was a flattering surprise, given how much older both of them were. Silena took off the necklace and dropped it into Percy’s hand, and he closed his fist around it. It felt unnaturally cold in his hand. He tried to decide who would be most likely to work with him, and went to find Steve.

Steve wasn’t patrolling right now; he was sitting down inside, eating some of the leftovers from what the Demeter kids had made. Percy sat down across from him and Steve glanced up, brow creasing in concern. Percy dropped the charm between them.

“I found the spy,” Percy said, not quite meeting Steve’s eyes. “They’re not doing it anymore. We don’t need to worry about them.”

Steve picked up the pendant and looked at it, frowning. Recognition flashed across his eyes, but he didn’t comment. “What happened? Who was it?”

“I’m not telling you,” Percy said, defensive despite himself. “They... they meant well. Kronos told them that fewer campers would die if they cooperated, so they did. And they stopped because Kronos wasn’t keeping his end of the deal.”

Steve didn’t look reassured, brow still furrowed as he surveyed Percy. Percy tried to hold steady. “How do you know?”

“They told me,” Percy said.

“They might be trying to manipulate you,” Steve pointed out. Anger flashed through Percy’s chest, and Steve must have seen it, because he continued, “All we know about their goals is what they told you. They might not have been entirely honest.”

“I believe her,” Percy said defiantly, refusing to give an inch. “This isn’t like HYDRA, okay? Kronos has been using the same trick on every single one of us. Every camper that left, left for the same reason, and every camper that stayed has heard that spiel too.”

Steve’s brow creased. “What reason is that?”

“Because being a demigod sucks,” Percy snapped, “and our parents don’t do anything about it. Most of the time, it feels like we’re struggling alone, or with just each other. And Kronos lies, and promises that things will be better if he’s in charge.” He dropped his gaze to the pendant in Steve’s hand. “I don’t believe him. Not for a second.” The old scar on his palm throbbed. “But I get why people are falling for it.”

“That seems...” Steve hesitated, and Percy felt a burst of desperation.

“I get it,” he said. “This is bigger than us and our daddy issues. The fate of the world is in balance and stuff. But we aren’t soldiers, Steve. We didn’t ask for this. And when we have to choose between people that left us to sink or swim, and this liar that says he’ll take care of us – yeah. Some people choose the liar.”

Percy was breathing hard now. Sometime during his rant, Steve’s expression had turned sad and pinched with understanding.

“How close was he to getting you?” Steve asked. Percy looked down and turned his hand over, palm-up.

“He lost his chance with me the day Luke tried to murder me in the woods,” he said. “I... I don’t know what I would’ve done if that hadn’t happened.” In the beginning, when he had still resented Poseidon for leaving him and Sally with Gabe, maybe someone like Kronos could have stoked that hurt into hatred.

“I’ll talk to the others,” Steve said, more gently. “We might ask how our spy is doing sometimes.”

Percy relaxed, relief sweeping over him. “Okay. Yeah. That’s fair.”

Chapter Text

Percy went straight from a dead sleep to bolt upright, his hand on his comm unit before he was even fully awake. “Rhodey, there’s-”

“A detachment on its way to the clinic and an army marching toward us,” Rhodey said, still somehow calm and steady. “I know. Clint, Clarisse, and Ashbury had dreams too.”

For a fleeting moment, Percy wanted to cry. He shoved the thought down ruthlessly. “There’s a monster in my apartment,” he said. “Rhodey, there’s an empousa in my apartment!”

“You’ll have a place in the tower if you need it,” Rhodey reassured him.

“My mom is there!” Percy was breathing hard. “Prometheus showed me. He wanted me to see that. H-he’s not doing anything, but... they can’t be there. They can’t be near Mom and Foggy.”

There was half a beat of silence, and then Rhodey cursed under his breath. “Steve, does Dr. Strange have a headset? Can you spare him off the center line?”

“Not yet, I’ll have him pick one up from Tony,” Steve said. “We can do without Dr. Strange here. What are your orders for him?”

Percy forced himself to take a deep breath. “Center line?”

“We’ve got some heavy hitters coming our way,” Rhodey said. “I’ll fill you in when you get here. Steve, have Strange head to Percy’s apartment. Clear the apartment, put some wards on it, then clear the block. We’ll put a patrol on it afterward so this doesn’t happen again.”

Some of Percy’s blind panic receded. “Thanks, Rhodey. I’m on my way down.”

Though there were plenty of experienced leaders on this mission, not least of which was Percy himself, they’d agreed well in advance that Rhodey would take charge of coordinating the defense. He had the most training by far, and more importantly, the most experience leading large groups. That meant that once they were gathered together, it was Rhodey that gave them their orders.

“Kronos is leading a monster army down to Central Park,” Rhodey said, indicating a map that they’d laid out on the table. “Captain, you’ll meet him there with Barnes, Maximoff, and Vision. Ashbury’s backing you up with his platoon. I want all four of you thinning the herd. Take out the bulk of the monsters while Ashbury holds the line. West side, an unknown titan is leading an assault through Hell’s Kitchen. Stark, Thor, Percy, you’re with Fenning and her men. Same task, thin out the monsters – Percy, you’re with a team, they’ll meet you there. Echidna is leading the opposite flank. Sergeant Wilson, Barton, you’re with me. If we hurry, we can bottleneck them at Queensboro Bridge. Everyone clear?”

Percy raised a hand. “Uh, where are the others?”

“Silena’s monitoring the situation and keeping everyone updated,” Rhodey replied promptly. “Beckendorf’s repairing damaged arms at base, and Will’s helping the doctors prepare for casualties. Grover is rallying the nature spirits at Central Park, and Thalia’s taking the hunters to the eastern flank. She’s hoping she’ll catch them on the bridge. Clarisse is with us there too.”

“And Annabeth?” Percy asked anxiously. Rhodey rolled his eyes.

“With you,” he deadpanned. “She insisted.”

Percy grinned, embarrassed but relieved. The idea of leaving Kronos to others made him anxious, but the plan as a whole seemed solid. He told himself he could always move if he was needed. Steve, Bucky, Wanda, and Vision could hold out.

“Eastern flank is weak,” Sam noted. Rhodey shrugged, grimaced, and nodded.

“Best place for it. No titan, I figured we could spare our heavy hitters. But be prepared for a rough encounter. Chimera’s supposed to be a nasty monster.” Sam nodded, brow furrowed in concentration. “Move out!”

It was comforting to hear Rhodey speak with such confidence, and Percy suddenly understood why the others had followed his orders that first day. He wondered if he’d sounded like this – like he actually knew what he was talking about.

Annabeth met him outside as soon as the meeting broke up. She looked pale and tired, but as strong as ever, defiance blazing in her eyes. “Let’s go find the mortals,” she said, a faint tinge of doubt in her voice. She fell in beside him as naturally as ever, and he studied her. “I’m fine, Seaweed Brain. My shoulder’s sore, but I can still fight.”

“I believe you,” Percy said, fond despite himself. He’d seen Annabeth fight with much worse than a bad shoulder.

‘The team’ turned out to be a squad of four that met them at the end of the block, having apparently been waiting. Percy recognized one of them immediately.

“Mark?”

Mark gave him a nod. “Colonel Rhodes saw us speaking, apparently,” he said. One of the others elbowed him playfully.

“Rookie here cheated his way onto the cool kid squad,” she said.

“I am not a rookie,” Mark said, long-suffering. “I am a corporal. A corporal!”

“Whatever you say, rookie,” the other teased, then met Percy’s eyes with confidence. “Warrant Officer Gonzales.” She indicated herself. “That’s Corporal Harding-” Mark. “Staff Sergeant Jordon, and First Sergeant Davis.” The other two nodded. “Don’t worry about us. We’re here to watch your back and get you out if need be. Do what you need to do.”

Percy’s face heated up, discomfort and gratitude mixing together. “Um, thanks. Let’s go.”

It was easier once the fight started; stuff like this usually was. He plunged into the fray, and nothing else mattered. His sword cut through rows of dracanae, and his shield knocked demigods off their feet. He slammed against hellhounds and giants, his sword cutting deep into flesh that sometimes burst instantly into dust, sometimes didn’t.

Annabeth was right there with him, taking full advantage of their preoccupation to knife any monster stupid enough to lose track of her. The four mortals stayed a few yards away, but to Percy’s mild surprise, they kept up easily, and monsters in his peripheral vision went down before he needed to turn his attention on them.

The first bit of bad news came before Percy even spotted the titan.

“We need backup at the clinic,” Matt panted. He sounded stunned, almost stupefied, and Percy knew instantly that it was bad. “There’s- hell. I have no idea what that is.” Someone yelled something. “A dragon?”

“That’s not great,” Tony noted.

“A drakon? What the hell is a drakon?”

“That’s much worse,” Tony said.

“Then yeah, that. What the hell.”

Rhodey kept his composure. Percy suspected he’d never seen a drakon before. “Doctor Strange, is Jackson’s apartment clear?”

“Yes. No monsters, no... titans.”

“Then head to the clinic. The patrol will keep it clear. Take Clarisse.”

“Clarisse?”

“She turned her mic off, but as soon as Murdock called in trouble, she flipped out. She’ll want to look after the other kids.”

“Fine. I’ll take her.”

“Roger. Annabeth, how are you doing?”

“Fine.” Annabeth ducked under a blow, strafed behind a Hyperborean giant, and cut its hamstring. “We’re by 40^th, it’s nothing but monsters. Wish those bronze grenades didn’t work on demigods too.”

“Officer Gonzales, do you need support?”

“We’re good here. This kid is a beast.” Gonzales fired a few more times, aiming carefully. Not every shot made a monster disintegrate, but they would stagger and recoil, making them easy prey for Annabeth’s knife. “Might need ammo if they keep coming at this rate. I’ll let you know.”

Percy only half-heard the conversation, most of his attention tied up in their chaotic surroundings. Every swing and duck and lunge came naturally, needing only half a thought, but it was still a challenge to keep track of all the moving parts. Lightning strikes a block and a half away indicated that Thor was busy, and a little beyond that, Percy could see Tony maintaining a healthy distance from the melee, sending monsters tumbling with his repulsors.

“Murdock, report,” Rhodey ordered. There was a short, tense silence.

“Strange, Luke, and Jessica are keeping it corralled,” Matt said at last. He was breathing hard. “They’re working on finding a way through its defenses. Clarisse and I are moving the injured to another clinic.”

“And the healthy kids?”

“Sweeping the streets,” Matt said, tone roughening with frustration. “Hellhounds can teleport behind our lines, so there’s some monsters scattered around here too. The statues and the nature spirits are helping out. We’re good... I think.”

“Keep an eye on them, Murdock. No more casualties on that side.”

“I know. I’m trying.”

“Whoa!” Tony yelled.

As soon as Percy turned, he saw the problem. Three blocks up the street, something was glowing, blindingly bright and so hot that it was setting fire to trash in the streets. The titan. It had to be.

“That’s the titan, right?” Percy asked Annabeth, just to be sure. “Not a monster?”

“Not the fucking sun?” Mark muttered.

“Not a monster,” Annabeth agreed. “Or the sun. It must be Hyperion, father of Helios. Titan of the east and best warrior after Atlas. Let’s go that way.”

“Great. I love titans.” Percy kicked a demigod in the gut before the poor kid could get shot. He stumbled back, fell over, and wheezed. The girl beside him wisely backed off and dragged him into an alley.

“Are these real kids?” Davis asked. “I can’t tell if I’m seeing them right.”

“They’re real kids,” Percy agreed, “or at least, some of them are. I don’t know how many you see.” He shrugged, then growled in warning at a younger kid, who squawked and backpedaled violently. “Don’t hurt them. They just want someone to give a shit about them, and they think Kronos will take care of them like Luke did. He’s manipulating them.”

“They won’t do us the same courtesy,” Annabeth warned before any of the adults could, still back-to-back with him. “Remember the training on the Princess Andromeda?”

“I know,” Percy said. “I don’t care. I’m not hurting them.”

Annabeth pressed their shoulders together briefly and admitted, “Me neither,” then disappeared back into the fray.

Another officer radioed in. “Something’s flying in over the Hudson River,” she said. “None of us can make it out, but it’s moving fast and it doesn’t look friendly.”

“Looking- there it is. Flying pig, coming in fast.” Tony chuckled.

“Not the time, Tony!” Rhodey said with exasperation.

“No, really. Clazmonian Sow. I’ll make it quick.”

Only a few minutes later, Percy made out Hyperion through the crowd. For the most part, all he could really see was light; it was like the sun itself was fighting in the crowd. Thor had engaged Hyperion with a mighty roar, but Hyperion’s strength was enough to let him catch Mjolnir on his blade and turn it aside, again and again. Thor was hampered by the fact that he couldn’t look directly at Hyperion, and half his swings went wide.

“Heat,” Annabeth said, drawing Percy’s attention. “Hyperion’s power of light is derived from the sun, and he’s setting things on fire. Percy, do you think you can put him out?”

“Worth a try. Watch my back.”

Annabeth moved to do just that, and Percy was briefly startled when the mortal soldiers did the same, fanning out to form a loose circle around them. No time to contemplate that, though. Percy closed his eyes and concentrated, but it was a clear day, only wisps of clouds peppering the sky. He tapped his comm unit.

“Blow the top off some fire hydrants, I need water,” he said.

“Do it,” Rhodey confirmed.

Percy held his breath, and only a minute passed before the order was relayed and people started to comply. One spout burst into the air, then another, then two more. Percy imagined the spray gathering into clouds, thickening into a storm and turning into rainfall. Then he willed it to swirl.

Hyperion roared in rage, and Thor laughed.

“My thanks, son of the sea! Come, join me in battle against our enemy!”

Percy opened his eyes and examined the results. The clear day had turned into thick, heavy rain, and while he didn’t quite have the power to turn it into a full hurricane, the rapid spin was causing the water to converge on Hyperion, soaking him thoroughly. Percy grinned.

“On my way!” he said.

It was only another block to where the clash was happening, so Percy gave Annabeth a nod and cut into the crowd, leaving the mortal team behind. Gonzales let out a startled shout of protest, but Percy was focused on his goal. The graceless push through left his clothes a little worse for the wear; Percy was pretty sure he was going to lose his shirt like an action movie star any minute.

He knew as soon as Hyperion spotted him, because the titan bared his teeth in a bloodthirsty grin. “Percy Jackson,” Hyperion said. “Didn’t think I’d get the pleasure of meeting you today.”

“Sucks not to have a spy, doesn’t it?” Percy said. “Suddenly you can’t see the stage until opening night.”

Hyperion flicked his hand dismissively. “Such petty advantages are unnecessary,” he said. “Your force is a medley of godlings and blind mortals. You will break against the tide of our army.”

Thor grinned, wide and mischievous enough to catch some of Percy’s attention.

“As the people of this realm say, dream on!”

He swung his hammer into Hyperion’s stomach, and Percy laughed as the titan bent over and wheezed, stumbling a few feet back. Then Percy shifted his grip and stepped in.

Maintaining the whirling storm tied up some of Percy’s attention, but honestly, not as much as Percy might have expected – the heavy rainfall energized him, and the rhythm of the storm felt natural. Thor’s presence might have helped with that; he felt almost like Thalia, sparking and charging the storm with his presence alone.

His main focus, of course, was on the fight. Hyperion’s blows were swift and powerful, and Percy leaned on his agility to avoid them, letting Thor leverage his full strength against the titan. Every time Percy stepped in for a slash, Hyperion was ready to block it, but Percy could sense their opponent tiring.

“What the hell are these frat boys on horses supposed to be?” Sam demanded.

“The Party Ponies!” Percy said, together with Clint and Tony, equally delighted.

“They’re centaurs,” Rhodey said flatly. “With paintball guns and sports gear.”

“They’re ridiculous, but they’re great to have on your side,” Annabeth assured Rhodey. “Chiron must have brought them.”

“I think I can hear them cheering from here,” Percy said, ducking behind Hyperion to look for a chink in his armor.

“I can’t,” Rhodey grumbled. “I’ve gone deaf.”

“Don’t be a party pooper, honey bunch, they’re here to help,” Tony laughed. “Percy, Thor, how’s big sparkly?”

“Not feeling so hot anymore!” Percy got an idea. “Thor!”

He gestured, and Thor grinned at him, then swung at Hyperion. Hyperion blocked with a snarl, starting to look ragged around the edges, and Percy vaulted up, seated himself on Hyperion’s shoulders, and banged the titan’s helmet hard with Riptide’s hilt. At the same time, Thor swung low, and Hyperion went tumbling. Percy hit the ground with a grunt, released Hyperion, and rolled away, and Thor dropped Mjolnir unceremoniously on Hyperion’s chest. Hyperion roared in rage, but it didn’t help him; he was pinned.

“How do you finish off a titan?” Percy asked gingerly, stumbling to his feet. “You can’t just leave your hammer there. It’s not the sky.”

Thor laughed, a sound made more of adrenaline than amusement, and gestured.

“Our combined power can scatter him, as his father was scattered before him,” Thor said, with more than a touch of battle-lust. “Come, Perseus, let us smite him!”

“Um, I can’t do that.”

Thor’s eyes were bright. “You are the son of the Stormbringer!” he reminded Percy. “Call upon the power that is your birthright!”

Percy wanted to protest that lightning was Thalia’s power, not his – but he couldn’t help but recall one of the few days at Yancy he’d enjoyed. When they’d learned about thunderstorms, and polarity, and the conditions that made lightning happen.

Percy clenched his jaw and concentrated on the clouds churning above, still pouring down rain. What was it? Polarity. He willed the charges to separate, one up, one down, dividing them like poles of a magnet. It felt like stretching a rubber band, which Percy figured meant he was doing it right. The storm started to spark and churn, and he nodded at Thor.

Thor roared, and without even touching his hammer, raised his arms. A bolt of lightning shot down to Earth, making Percy’s skin tingle from a dozen feet away, and hit Hyperion while he was still struggling under the hammer. When Percy finally blinked the spots out of his eyes, he leaned over to look.

“Uh,” he said. “That did it, I think.”

“Our enemy is vanquished!” Thor announced into the comms.

“Good work,” Rhodey said. “Echidna and the chimera are taken care of, and the Party Ponies routed the monsters. We’re good here. Murdock?”

“Good news and bad news,” Matt said. Percy faltered, and for a moment, the storm faltered with him. “Nathan didn’t make it – we just couldn’t transport him gently enough. Connor Stoll and Katie Gardner both took some nasty burns from the drakon’s venom. They’ll live, but it’s not pretty.”

Percy wanted to punch a wall. Instead, he chose a better target. He rounded on what was left of the monster army and roared his rage. The rain thickened, the clouds almost melting out of the sky. Some of the monsters cowered and broke ranks on the spot, giving Percy a rush unlike anything he’d felt before. Thor roared in agreement, and they went for what was left of the enemy command.

“You said there was good news?” Rhodey prompted bravely.

“Clarisse takes after her father in a big way,” Matt said. “There’s a big drakon husk here, but no drakon.”

“She’s a daughter of Ares through and through,” Annabeth agreed. “Best let her burn herself out. Once an Ares kid really hits their stride, it’s extremely difficult to calm them down.”

“No arguments from me,” Matt said.

Steve radioed in. “Kronos is pulling back,” he reported. “I’m betting he’s not ready to face all of us just yet. Colonel?”

“We’ll take the win for now,” Rhodey decided. “Pull back, restock, and regroup. This isn’t over yet.”

“On our way.”

Chapter Text

“Oh,” Percy said softly.

In a corner of the borrowed lobby, thirteen body bags had been filled, zipped up, and laid gently in a row. At least twice as many wounded were being treated by a handful of medics, some of which Percy was pretty sure wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. Guilt curdled his stomach.

“Hey.” Warrant Officer Gonzales clapped him on the shoulder to catch his attention, and squeezed once she had it, expression serious. “They died defending their country. It’s a risk we all take when we join the military.”

“It didn’t have to be them,” Percy said without thinking. “We’re used to it.”

“Yeah, that’s not okay.” Gonzales steered him firmly toward another part of the lobby, and he let her, shaken and tired. He caught a glimpse of the pithos Prometheus had given him, but she pushed him past it without pausing. “Kid- Percy. No one wants to die in war, no one likes it, but some things are worth dying for. I promise you, not one of those men would choose to trade places with one of you kids. No self-respecting adult would."

"We’ve lost enough campers,” Annabeth reminded him, though her eyes were shadowed as well. “We don’t need a repeat of last year.”

For a moment, Gonzales looked confused, and then understanding flickered across her expression. “Bad battle last year?”

Annabeth nodded. “An invasion of camp. We lost eleven half-bloods before we drove them back out. We weren’t prepared at all.” She glanced at Gonzales. “Half-bloods usually die on quests, or on their way to camp. We train to survive that, to survive being hunted. We don’t train for... this.”

“Only a complete demon would launch an assault on a summer camp,” Mark said sharply. Annabeth snorted.

“Pretty close,” she said. “It was Kampê, the prison warden of Tartarus. She used to guard the cyclops and the Hundred-Handed Ones.”

Mark shook his head. “This is nuts,” he muttered.

For a moment, Percy imagined it from their perspective. If the Chitauri had attacked, and it turned out that instead of the world, all they wanted was to wipe out Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. How nuts would that be?

“Annabeth, Percy – I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

Both Annabeth and Percy brightened.

“Chiron!” Percy exclaimed, turning toward him. Chiron smiled at them.

“Good evening. I hope we are not too late. It’s rather difficult to organize my kinsmen.” He glanced up at the team still lingering around them. “But it seems to me that things have been going well.”

Gonzales considered him, then held out her hand. “Warrant Officer Gonzales,” she said. “I’m the head of Jackson’s complement. It’s an honor, Chiron.”

Chiron shook her hand. “An honor to meet you as well,” he said. “I must thank you for all of your help, and that of your comrades. It has been a very, very long time since my students have had people to depend on.”

“That’s our life, isn’t it?” Percy said without thinking.

Chiron shook his head. “In the old days, heroes were champions of the mortal world,” he said. “They fought monsters that terrorized villages, challenged gods, went on long quests to seek treasure or truth – but they have never been armies. They were never meant to stand alone against the hordes of Tartarus.” He looked across the lobby, examining the dozens of people working. “If this transition brings us back to a time when demigods were cherished members of a community, rather than misfits and outcasts, it will be a blessing to all of us.”

“That’s the next step,” Annabeth said. “Let’s focus on getting through the next few days first.”

Chiron nodded. “Indeed.” He glanced at Percy. “Did you want to ask me something?”

Not expecting to be called out like that, Percy squirmed a little before he answered, asking a question that had been on his mind for a long time. “Chiron... what happens if Olympus falls?”

Chiron’s expression turned grim, but everyone else snapped to attention, just as curious – and anxious – as Percy.

“The legacy of Ancient Greece would crumble,” Chiron said plainly. “Many of the institutions that keep Western society running would fall apart. Democracies would be overturned, libraries and hospitals would close, doctors would break their oaths, and teachers would cease to engage their students. Between that and the rise of the titans, humanity would return to the Dark Ages.”

Percy had come to expect that sort of depressing answer from Chiron. “That would suck.”

“Indeed.” Chiron squeezed Percy’s shoulder, then turned away. “You should take this time to sleep. You need your rest, and you never know what you will learn as you dream.”

“I’m not tired,” Percy grumbled, but of course, he gave in.

“I’ve dreamed of you before,” Percy said to the bald woman. She gave him a serene smile.

“Indeed you have. It is a powerful soul that can reach for help beyond the veil. And it pleases me that I can still be of service, even in death.” She looked ahead of them and gestured, and their surroundings shifted until they were hovering above New York, watching the horizon. Percy’s heart skipped a bit. “Yes. Typhon grows dangerously near, and the Olympians are no closer to defeating him.”

“They need help,” Percy said. The woman shrugged.

“My sight is murky,” she said. “The fate of Olympus is yet to be decided. Follow your instincts; they come from the magic of creation itself. They will not lead you astray.”

“I’d rather follow Annabeth’s,” Percy said honestly.

The woman smiled at him and did not reply, but instead snapped her fingers. Their surroundings shifted again. Percy could see the ocean out of the window, and the room was large and neatly decorated. A hotel or a resort or something.

“Rachel,” the woman said. “It is time to deliver your message.”

Rachel shot up with a gasp, sitting up in her bed. Or rather, a ghost of her did – Percy could see that she was still sleeping soundly, her spirit leaving her body in the dreamscape.

“Wh- Percy?” Rachel stared at him in confusion. Percy smiled sheepishly. “What are you doing here?”

Good question. Percy looked at the strange woman, but she was gone. “Um, demigod dreams. Did you... have something you wanted to say to me?”

“Yes,” Rachel said. “It’s important. I’ve been having dreams again. Drawing things, writing things. I... I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Percy promised her. “I can’t help you right now, but we’ll figure it out.” He tried to brush off the thought that he wouldn’t be there to keep his promise.

Rachel nodded. “You are not the hero,” she said. “That was the message.”

Percy stared at her. “I’m not- what is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” Rachel snapped. “I just keep writing it. In the sand, on the margins of my journal, on scraps of paper. Perseus, you are not the hero. It’s important. It will affect what you do.”

“Great.” Percy wanted to throw something. “Okay. Thanks, I guess.”

Rachel’s defensiveness cracked, and some uncertainty peeked through. “Sorry. I don’t understand it either.”

Percy softened despite himself. “Yeah, that’s prophecy for you,” he said. “It’s alright. It’ll make sense later.” He looked around and laughed a little. “Sure would be nice to be here instead of New York right now.”

“Next time,” Rachel said.

“Next time,” Percy agreed. He looked out over the ocean. “Go back to sleep. I need to wake up. I think I have an idea for dealing with Typhon.”

“Hey. Little bird asked me to check on you.”

“Which one?”

Natasha sat down beside Percy and set a hand on his back, allowing him to keep his face hidden in his arms. “Most of them. Beckendorf, Matt, Silena, Sam, Rhodey.”

“Not Annabeth?”

“I think Annabeth knows you too well to bother asking.”

Percy sighed, shifted, and set his elbows on his knees to prop himself up. “It’s eight. I turn sixteen in four hours.”

“You’ve been counting down?”

“I can’t stop myself,” Percy confessed. “I almost wish they’d attack already so I could stop watching the clock. I’m sick of waiting for the end of the world.”

“Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it,” Natasha said mildly. “Why wait for midnight? There’s all day tomorrow to decide the fate of Olympus.”

Percy shook his head. “No,” he said. “It’s in four hours. I can feel it.”

“What else do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m too nervous.”

“That’s good,” Natasha told him. “It shows that you’re thinking about it, not taking this decision lightly.”

“I don’t even know what it is.”

“And you won’t for another four hours,” Natasha agreed. “But you’ve been thinking and talking about your values and convictions for months now. That puts you miles ahead of just about any other boy your age. Can you imagine Peter Parker in your place?”

Startled by the image, Percy had to laugh, picturing it. “He’d never stop second-guessing himself. I don’t think he’d ever reach a decision.”

Natasha chuckled. “And even that puts him above the children your age that wouldn’t truly understand what’s at stake,” she said. “You’ve done as much as you can. Go sleep. We’ll wake you up when there’s movement.”

“I don’t need to sleep,” Percy grumbled, but he went, stretched out on a cot, and passed out in seconds. Natasha chuckled again.

With Percy settled, Natasha returned to the others and perched on a banister, watching Rhodey go over casualty and surveillance reports. “Percy says that it’s showtime in four hours.”

Clint looked up sharply. “How sure is he?”

“Certain,” Natasha said. “Are we expecting anything to happen then?”

Rhodey shook his head. “Nothing. That’s about an hour before we’re expecting Typhon to arrive, and there’s no sign of movement from their camps. Nothing else incoming, and Strange says the magic over the city is stable.”

“There’s Kronos,” Bucky said. He met Natasha’s eyes. “Sometime in the next couple days, he’s going to burn through Luke’s body and take his true form. Could happen four hours from now.”

“And if that happens?” Natasha asked.

Bucky shrugged. “If that happens, we turn to ash.”

Rhodey pursed his lips. “Nothing? No recourse? Percy and Thor took care of Hyperion well enough.”

“Hyperion was drained,” Tony said. “No one worships him anymore, no one knows about him. He doesn’t have the juice Kronos does. Kronos? We still speak his name whenever we talk about time – chronology, chronometer, synchronous, anachronous. It all goes back to him.” He spread his hands. “He gets out of that body, it’s game over.”

“Then we’ll stop it at all costs,” Rhodey said. “We have a lot to throw at it. Worst case scenario, that’s what we do.” He looked up. “Do we know where ground zero is going to be?”

“Central Park,” Natasha said, before anyone else could interject. She got a few questioning looks and crossed her arms. “Rachel’s drawing placed Percy there, and Sally mentioned that he’s dreamed of it too. If I had to bet on anywhere, it’s there.”

Rhodey nodded. “I’ll station some snipers,” he said. “Won’t do much, but they could take care of any nasty surprises. Ambrosia and nectar?”

Clint shook his head. “We’ve all had too much. Any more and we’ll burn up. This time, when we’re out, we’re out.”

Rhodey sighed, but nodded, accepting that. “I’m pulling Dr. Strange and Daredevil back from the clinic. They’ll do us more good here. I don’t think they’ll be dividing their forces a second time. Typhon?”

“Percy went up to Olympus to ask Poseidon to help,” Bucky said. “Seemed optimistic when he got back.”

“Aside from all the nervous pacing,” Natasha cut in.

“Yeah, well, that’s all of us,” Rhodey muttered. “How likely is Poseidon to answer?”

“I’d put good odds on it,” Tony offered. “Poseidon is famous for favoring his children, and by all accounts, he particularly adores Percy. If he didn’t refuse outright, he’s going to come.”

“And no wonder,” Clint snorted, “since Percy is basically his double.”

Rhodey raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

Clint nodded emphatically. “Oh yeah. It wasn’t as pronounced when Percy was still a scrawny little thing, but now that he’s filling out, all Percy needs is a beard and a fisherman’s hat.”

“Does that mean anything?” Rhodey asked, still in strategy mode.

“Not really,” Clint admitted. “He’s deeply connected to his father, that’s all. That’s probably why he’s as powerful as he is.”

“I thought that was normal for a kid of his parentage?” Sam questioned.

Steve shook his head. “I’ve known children of both Poseidon and Zeus,” he said. “They’re always strong, but Percy taps into his father’s domain like it’s his own. That storm he made? It covered nearly three blocks. Never seen anything like it.”

“He’s a good kid,” Tony said defensively. “Hasn’t had any behavioral issues since he was thirteen, and Chiron loves him. Not a power-hungry bone in his body.”

“They’ll still want to control him,” Sam warned.

“I’m working on it,” Tony said. “Most of the details are worked out by now, we just need to finalize and sign.” Sam gestured impatiently. Tony flicked his hand, dismissing the concern. “Chiron will be the only one with direct disciplinary power over campers, Percy included. It means Chiron will have to answer for it if someone acts up, but he’s okay with that as long as he can keep looking after the kids. Adult demigods are subject to the normal rules for metahumans.”

“And when Percy grows up?” Sam asked.

“If,” Clint said. Sam clenched his jaw.

“It’ll depend on what he does with his life,” Tony admitted. “It should be easier if he goes with marine rescue like he wants now, harder if he wants to be an agent or a soldier. I’ll do what I can for him, okay?”

Sam held his gaze for a long moment, then sighed and nodded.

“Back to our current problem,” Rhodey said, drawing their attention back to him. “Any news on our spy?”

Steve cleared his throat. “Percy knows who it is, but he’s determined to protect them,” he said. “He says that they’ve stopped and won’t be doing it again.”

“Of course he is,” Rhodey sighed. “And you just let him?”

Steve met his eyes defiantly. “His motives are good. If it’s one of the kids, they don’t need to be crucified for what they’ve done. They can keep it quiet and take care of it in-house.”

“I can look,” Wanda offered. “We need not act on the information, if action is not necessary.”

“No,” Steve said firmly. “If we can trust his judgement in four hours, we can trust his judgement now.”

“I hope you’re right.” Rhodey let it go and looked down. “Barnes should be back with supplies within the hour – Tony, he said he’d have to hit a few gun stores to get gunpowder. Beckendorf’s been casting bullets like a madman.”

“No problem,” Tony dismissed. “FRIDAY’s tracking him, she’ll take care of it.”

Rhodey exhaled. “I think that’s it,” he admitted at last. “Nothing left but the waiting.”

Annabeth shook Percy awake an hour before midnight.

“Time to go,” she said. “Kronos is on the move.”

Percy wanted to press her about that, but he was distracted by the roar of noise outside. Morpheus had allowed the mortals to wake, and the streets of New York were buzzing with confusion, anger, and fear.

Annabeth read his expression easily. “I know,” she said. “Rhodey sent a few runners to contact the NYPD. They’re evacuating the area, but I don’t know how long that will take, or how much they can do.”

“Can’t be worse than the Chitauri,” Percy said. Still, he went to the window and looked down, wincing at the people milling about and trying to understand what was happening. Annabeth made a sound of realization.

“You were in New York for that, weren’t you?”

Percy nodded. “I missed most of it, because our teachers did a lock-out, like that would keep the aliens from breaking in,” he said. “But they let us out after to gawk at all the rubble and dead aliens and stuff.” The rest of that day had been a chaotic mess of phone calls and sitting around while the teachers tried to manage the situation. Three kids had lost family members in the Chitauri attack, and Percy nearly had a meltdown before his mom called the school to make sure he was okay. It was one of the few times a teacher had been kind to him.

“We didn’t find out about it for days,” Annabeth confided. She gestured for him to come along, and they headed down to the lobby. “We don’t exactly get live news from the mortal world there. I thought the Stolls were playing a prank when they brought the newspaper back.”

It was easy to forget that Annabeth had spent years completely divorced from the mortal world. “Was it as weird for you as it was for me?”

“I spent a few weeks trying to figure out what mythological monster they were,” Annabeth admitted, and Percy laughed. She smiled ruefully. “I was more ready to accept Thor and Norse myths, so I kept telling myself that I just hadn’t looked deep enough into Norse lore to find them yet.”

They met Rhodey by the makeshift war table, and Rhodey tossed a paperclipped stack of photographs in front of Annabeth.

“We sent in some recon units,” he said. “They took photos of the figures that seemed to have the most Mist clinging to them, but I can’t see anything special.”

Annabeth leaned in. “Minor gods and goddesses,” she said. “I don’t recognize all of them, but based on our recon...” She pointed. “I think that’s Eris, goddess of conflict and discord.” Next. “Melinoe, goddess of ghosts.” Another. “Janus, god of doors and choices.”

“Is that why he has two faces?” Rhodey asked. Annabeth nodded.

“One tells lies, the other tells the truth,” she said. “That story comes from him.” She pointed again. “There’s Morpheus – that must be why the mortals woke up. He’s gathering strength for the fight.” Point. “And, of course, Nemesis, the goddess of revenge and balance.”

“That’s a lot of gods set against us,” Rhodey pointed out, appropriately wary.

Annabeth shrugged. “They’re minor gods, not Olympians. It’ll be difficult, but not impossible.” She considered him for a minute, and then added, “Any of the Avengers could stand against them, I think, especially since they don’t have the power of Olympus backing them up. Gods might bleed gold, but they bleed all the same.” She met Percy’s eyes, and he knew they were thinking of the same thing.

“They’re pulling out the stops for a final push,” Rhodey said. Annabeth nodded.

“They know that they still have the Avengers to deal with,” she said. “Kronos won’t be familiar with them, but there are plenty of demigods on their side that would’ve made their power clear. I’m guessing that’s why the gods are getting personally involved.”

Rhodey stood up and clipped on his homing bracelets. “Right. Let’s go hold the line.”

Chapter Text

Kronos’ army pressed toward them in a way that made Percy feel claustrophobic; something about their tight formation and the way they packed into every street made him feel trapped and surrounded, even though he knew that there were several empty blocks behind him.

The two forces crashed against each other with a roar that Percy felt in his bones. Guns fired from their side, sending some monsters stumbling back against their brethren, and a couple of automatics even cleared narrow columns until the monsters sealed the breach. Going the other way, talons ripped fabric and swords hit body armor and skidded off. Arrows flew between monsters and men, and a hunter cried out in rage and pain as one sank into her already bandaged shoulder. Bucky charged a battalion of dracanae to clear them away from a cluster of soldiers, giving them room to work, and Steve used his shield as a battering ram to bowl over a hellhound. The streets boiled.

Percy cut into the crowd ruthlessly, searching out the axes that marked each of their main concerns. They were easy to spot; their forces bunched up around them, desperately trying to hold in the face of the gods’ power. Eris wielded a sword in one hand, and with the other, forced their weapons against each other. Contrasting Eris’ grin, Nemesis’ eyes blazed with righteous anger, and her whip cracked against unprotected shoulders and hands. Percy saw Wanda head for Eris, and Rhodey for Nemesis, followed by Matt. He caught a glimpse of Bucky standing against Melinoe – a bad matchup for Bucky – and Vision against Janus, much better.

Kronos’ strategy slid into focus.

Percy wasn’t surprised when the crowd around them pulled back, and he found himself face to face with Kronos. The titan’s eyes were icy gold, and the look on Luke’s face sent a shiver down his spine, reminding him of the day Luke had first turned on him so long ago.

“Perseus,” Kronos said, with grim satisfaction that leant no warmth. “The last obstacle between myself and Olympus.”

Percy shifted, widening his stance to brace himself. “There’s a lot of those, actually. I know you haven’t been watching the news lately, but there’s like, a dozen.”

Kronos smirked. His gold eyes bored into Percy’s soul. “No. I know my family, godling, and I know your father. Your death will collapse the unity of Olympus, and it will tear itself apart from within. From there, victory will be easy.”

“Pull back, Percy,” Rhodey said sharply. “Don’t engage until you have backup.”

Doubt bit at Percy’s heart. You are not the hero. Was this it? Was this the decision? He let his instincts make the call for him: no, it wasn’t. He was sure of it.

Demigods can go anywhere, challenge anyone, he reminded himself. He took a deep breath and focused, ignoring Rhodey’s order to keep his attention on Kronos. Then he lunged. Kronos’ parry was all Luke.

“Stark!” Rhodey snapped.

“I’m aware of the situation, pumpkin!”

It was an intense fight, the sort of fast-paced brutality that made Percy tune out everything around them – which was fine, because monsters and mortals alike had pulled away in fear, giving them plenty of room. Percy didn’t know how many of his own blows got through Kronos’ guard, or how many of Kronos’ got through his. All he could hear was the clang of their swords, Riptide on Backbiter. Over a block away, Wanda screamed in rage, and it echoed through the vacant streets.

Water brushed up against the edge of Percy’s awareness, and without looking away from Kronos, Percy took a step that way. Kronos scoffed, threw out his hand, and blasted Percy in the opposite direction, sending him tumbling.

“Eyes on Percy?” Rhodey demanded.

“How d’you know what’s happening if you aren’t watching?” Percy grumbled. He rolled to his feet and steadied himself again, raising his sword. “I’m fine.”

“You’re passing in and out of my sight,” Rhodey grumbled. “Status?”

“I told you, I’m fine.” Percy shook off the impact and darted back toward Kronos. If he could just move them around so Kronos’ back was to the water-

“Eliminating possibilities,” FRIDAY reported helpfully. “Luke’s weak point is not his right upper arm, right shoulder, left palm, or left ribcage.”

“Great. How many possibilities does that leave?”

“Approximately 83.”

“Well,” Percy sighed, “I guess I don’t have any better ideas.”

“Rhodey, if one of these people gets in the way, I’m not going to be responsible for my actions,” Annabeth snapped. Percy took a chance and looked over between strikes. The others had caught up, and Annabeth was preventing the mortal team from entering the open space the battle had made for Percy and Kronos.

“Warrant Officer Gonzales, Kronos is out of your league, do not attempt to engage,” Rhodey said tersely. “Stay nearby to provide other assistance if necessary.”

“Good,” Annabeth said. “I’m on my way in.”

“Do not go in!”

Annabeth ignored the order and headed right for them. Kronos even glanced over at her, his gold eyes flashing with irritation. Annabeth looked him in the eye, put her cap on, and disappeared. Percy grinned. Kronos bared his teeth.

“Godlings were the most obnoxious mistake of my spawn,” he muttered. “Look around you, Percy Jackson. Listen to the sounds of the dying.” Unwillingly, Percy’s head twitched toward the park, and his ears caught the sounds he’d been subconsciously tuning out. Screams of pain and fear, cries for help, shouting and screaming in the distance. Flashes of red betrayed Wanda’s position; bright light revealed Eos. “This is your reward for defending the gods. Do you love them so, you unwanted wretch?"

“The gods didn’t do this,” Percy snapped. “You did this. I don’t know why you’re like this and I don’t care. Every camper that dies in this fight died because of you.”

Kronos didn’t bother replying, and his glance aside drew Percy’s attention to a figure he hadn’t noticed until now. Ethan, with a white-knuckled grip on his sword.

“You cannot fool me, Ethan Nakamura,” Kronos said. Ethan looked away sharply. “You know the place where Jackson is most vulnerable. End this battle, and no more half-bloods need die today. It will be the final strike of the war until I stand face to face with the treacherous gods.”

Ethan’s hand trembled.

“Eos backed off,” Tony said. “Doesn’t like napalm, I guess. Hold out, kid, Sam and I are headed your way.”

“Steve, I can occupy Melinoe,” Bucky added, calm and focused. “Go.”

“I- damn it. Hold on, Percy.”

Percy threw himself back into the fight before Ethan had a chance to act, forcing Kronos to brace against the swing of his sword. The brief pause emphasized the exhaustion developing in Percy’s limbs, and when he glanced down, his shirt was in tatters, and singed where the cursed blade had flared.

Kronos sensed the approach too.

“Nakamura!” he snapped. “Act, or be condemned as a coward!”

“He doesn’t want to help us, Ethan,” Percy said fiercely. “No one who kills this many kids gives a shit about any of them. I don’t care what he told you about winning wars.”

Ethan wavered again, fingers flexing uncertainly. “How are we supposed to know?” he said. “We don’t get respect at camp either. We don’t get it anywhere.”

Percy grunted as he turned Kronos’ blade again, and Kronos growled and pivoted to drive Percy away from the water. “I know,” he said. “It’s hard to find people that care. But Kronos isn’t it, Ethan. You know we care. I know you do.”

“How would I know that?”

Another clash forced Percy a few steps back, and he growled and pushed back, forcing Kronos to retreat and lose the new ground. “We’ve lived together,” he said. “We eat and clean and play together. We protect each other and we protect our home. How is that anything but a family? How much of that do you do with the freaking monsters? Where else have you gotten that?”

Ethan’s hand clenched around his sword, and he turned. Percy’s heart skipped a beat, and a blow got through his guard, knocking him down with a huff. He rolled away, and as he did, he saw Ethan reach Kronos, swing, and get blasted so far across the park that Percy couldn’t see where he landed. His heart skipped a beat.

“Useless,” Kronos muttered. He shrugged something off and elbowed the air, but seemed to miss.

“Eight more spots eliminated from the list of possible weak points,” FRIDAY murmured to Percy. Apparently Annabeth had been hard at work. A moment later, she appeared next to Percy, making him jump.

“Percy,” she said, low and intent, “I have an idea. But I need to get close to Luke, and I need you to keep Steve and Tony off my back.”

“How long do you need?”

“As long as it takes Luke to wake up and realize what he’s done,” Annabeth said grimly. Percy blanched.

“Uh, Annabeth-”

“Trust me.”

Without waiting for a response, or even putting her hat back on, she darted toward Luke, who watched her approach with clear disdain. She stopped in front of him, avoided a swing of the scythe, and talked, too quiet for Percy to hear clearly.

“What’s she doing?” Tony demanded.

There was no time to figure it out. Percy had to trust Annabeth, or ignore her. Kronos swatted Annabeth, sending her flying, but she was back up in moments, stumbling but determined and flinty. Percy stared after her.

Was there enough of Luke left to feel remorse? Had there ever been?

Annabeth held out her knife, and in a flash, Percy understood. Annabeth’s knife. You are not the hero. The dreams he’d been having, and the soft reminders to trust his instincts, trust his instincts, trust his instincts. Something gathering in the air told him that time was running out.

He tapped his comm. “Hold on. Give her room to work.”

“No time, Nemo,” Tony said. “Look at his eyes.”

Percy looked. Luke’s eyes had brightened; the shade of gold felt like the heat of the sun. “I see it. Give her a chance.”

“We can’t afford it!”

Steve made a motion toward Annabeth and Kronos, and Percy stepped between them, raising his sword in warning. His heart hammered in his chest. “Don’t even think about it.”

Shock, then suspicion crossed Steve’s face, and then he swore loudly enough for Percy to hear it even without the comms. “Stark, the spy-”

“No way. Not her, not in a million-”

“Then who?”

Shit. And there wasn’t any time to clear up the misunderstanding.

Annabeth held out her knife.

Steve lunged, a desperate movement to get there before it was too late. Percy moved to intercept, and months of sparring gave him the advantage he hadn’t had in their first fight. He dodged the first blow, got behind Steve, hooked his arm around the much larger man’s neck, and heaved. Steve twisted but didn’t go down, and instead slammed his shield into Percy’s side. Percy let go with a grunt, dropped his sword, and started wrestling Steve for control of the shield.

Luke glowed. The air became hot and prickly. He stared at Annabeth, then held out his hand. Annabeth pressed the knife into it, then pressed close, fingers running along his armor.

Percy grabbed the shield and yanked, and Steve let out a curse as Percy pulled it away from him. With a flash of inspiration, Percy turned and searched for Tony in the sky.

“Percy!” Steve made a desperate move to grab Percy and stop him, but Percy dodged around it. He could feel it; they had seconds left.

“This is it,” Sam said over the comm, dawning understanding in his voice.

“Yeah,” Percy said, without hesitation.

Sam moved between Tony and Annabeth, forcing him to swerve. Percy threw the shield, and Sam caught it and intercepted Tony again, forcing him away from Annabeth and Kronos.

“What the hell, bird boy?”

By then, Steve was on his feet again, an edge of panic in his eyes; Percy guessed that Kronos’ power was growing to the point that even mortals could feel it. Steve lunged past Percy, and Percy tackled him to the ground. Steve threw him off without effort, and Percy rolled. Instead of Steve, he looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth unhooked part of Luke’s armor and said something to him. He said something back, then shoved the knife into the new chink in his armor. Something invisible detonated, forcing Percy to close his eyes. When he looked again, Luke was sprawled on the ground, Annabeth kneeling beside him. The battlefield quieted.

Percy pushed himself up, stumbled over to Annabeth, and dropped to one knee next to Luke. His eyes were blue again, hazy with pain, his breath choppy.

Luke met his eyes, reached out, and grabbed his arm in a surprisingly harsh grip.

“Percy,” he rasped. “We can’t live like this. It’s not right. Not right... for kids to grow up like this.”

“I know.” Percy’s throat was suddenly tight. Blood spilled from Luke’s arm like water, pooling and trickling away. Luke blinked slowly, his breath coming shallow and harsh.

“Don’t let them do this to us anymore.”

“I... I won’t.” Percy couldn’t take his eyes off Luke’s rapidly paling skin.

Luke looked at Annabeth. “I’m sorry,” he said. “To you. To Thalia. Not to anyone else.”

Annabeth shut her eyes, tears leaking down her cheeks, and she didn’t reply. She just nodded tightly. Luke’s hand went limp and dropped from Percy’s arm. He took one more breath, then a second, then a third. Then he stopped.

The fighting resumed in a desperate roar.

“Mortals can’t survive in the presence of the full Olympian council,” Hermes said to Steve and Rhodey, sprawling casually over the staircase where they were resting. “But we agreed that you deserve a reward for your help all the same.”

Rhodey inclined his head, wary and uncertain. “Thank you... Lord Hermes.”

Hermes grinned. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s the least we can do,” he said. He looked out across Olympus, from the courtyard where they sat to the palace. “Colonel Rhodes. You will receive the blessing of Ares. From now on, you will always have a clear head in battle, and luck will forever be on your side. May it serve you well.”

Rhodey bowed his head again, breath speeding up slightly with nerves.

“Captain Rogers.” Hermes met his eyes as well. “For your part in this fight – secret knowledge.” Wary puzzlement flashed across Steve’s face. “Your team, the Howling Commandos, awaits you in Elysium, as does Peggy Carter. When your time comes, you’ll join them there. It’s a rare privilege for mortals, but your work against the Nazis does you credit. The agreement was unanimous.”

Confusion, then relief and gratitude overtook Steve. “Thank you, Lord Hermes.” He looked up at the palace. “What’s going on up there?”

“Our loyal demigods are being rewarded,” Hermes answered, also watching the palace. “They’ve done well, and their parents wish to treat them with the respect and honor they deserve.”

“Shouldn’t you be there?”

Hermes smiled. “I am,” he said. “Gods can be in many places. One of the many benefits of godhood.”

“How do you reward someone for saving the world?” Rhodey asked, leaning over and looking pensive. Hermes looked at him, thoughtful and considering.

“Tony will be granted the rare ability to meld magic and machine,” Hermes said. “Hephaestus is already looking forward to the new heights it will bring him to. Keith will also receive the blessing of Ares – nearly unprecedented for a child of Athena. Annabeth will be made the architect of Olympus; it was due to be expanded anyway. Grover will be the new Lord of the Wild, as it seems... that Pan has truly passed.”

“And Percy?” Steve asked. Hermes was quiet for a moment.

“Most likely,” he answered at last, “Percy will be granted immortality.” Rhodey inhaled sharply. “Yes. He faced his destiny with courage, defended Olympus with skill and conviction, and remained unswervingly loyal in the face of temptation. A formal vote has not yet been conducted, but I can’t imagine that even Ares would deny that he has earned his place in the skies.” Hermes’ mouth twitched. “Besides, I think Poseidon will have more than strong words for anyone that attempts to deny him.”

“And then what?” Steve couldn’t hide his fascination. Luckily, Hermes didn’t seem to mind.

“He’ll take his place on Olympus. What happens after that is up to him.” He nodded at the city. “Go. Enjoy your time in the city of the gods. Very few mortal eyes have ever seen it.”

Chapter Text

Eventually, Percy asked the question that everyone was avoiding. “What are we gonna do with them?”

“With the demigods that followed Kronos?” Annabeth checked, crossing the room to stand with him.

“No- well, yeah, I guess.” Percy glanced across the row of carefully laid-out children, caked with dried blood and shredded skin and the deformations of broken bones. “But their bodies too. I mean... we can’t just throw them to the wolves. But we don’t have shrouds for them, or time to make any.”

Annabeth stared forlornly at the long line of lost demigods. “We’ll have to figure something out,” she said. “Maybe go to a fabric store and pick out some patterns. But the funeral pyre...”

Percy picked up her train of thought easily. “We’ll burn them together,” he said firmly. “Our demigods and the ones Kronos took. Their deaths are his fault, not theirs.”

Annabeth softened, though it was hard for him to get a read on what she thought of his bold declaration. “I’ll talk to Connor and Travis,” she said. “They’ll want to handle most of the makeshift shrouds. So many of them came from the Hermes cabin.” Unclaimed kids, or children of minor gods, like Ethan.

Unbidden, Percy’s eyes burned, and he pressed his palms against his eyes in frustration. “This was so pointless,” he said, rough and cracking. “Things are good at Camp Half-Blood. Chiron loves us. The satyrs and the nymphs love us. We... we love each other. It’s safe. It’s fun. It’s, it’s home. What could be worth more than that?”

“Everything alright here?”

Percy startled, but it was only Rhodey, easing down to sit beside him with an unexpected look of understanding.

“...We’re talking about the funeral stuff for Kronos’ half-blood followers,” Percy said at last, slow and awkward. “I want to burn them with our campers, but we should probably talk about it with the other counselors first.”

“Any of them have families?” Rhodey asked, clipped but soft. “Parents to contact?”

“If they had parents that cared about them, we wouldn’t be here,” Percy said, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.

 “We could handle it, if that’s easier,” Rhodey said, still oddly gentle. Percy appreciated it, but he shook his head.

“Kronos got to them, but they were still demigods first,” he said. “And they deserve a demigod’s send-off.”

“Connor, Travis, and I already ID’d them,” Annabeth added, studying her feet. “There are nametags on their ankles now. You need records, right?”

“I do,” Rhodey admitted. “Alright. If you’re sure. Anything I can do to help?”

Annabeth glanced up at him thoughtfully. “Can you have people out looking for survivors?” she asked. “Michael Yew is still missing, and we don’t know how many from the other side might have just collapsed somewhere.”

“I’ll put some people on it,” Rhodey promised. “Have you figured out how to handle the kids on the other side?”

Percy and Annabeth looked at each other, and then Percy shook his head.

“If they want to come back to Camp Half-Blood, they’re welcome,” he said. “But I’m not sure how to tell them that. I don’t even know where they’ve gone, or if they’re all together.”

“We can make it clear when we tell them about the pyre,” Annabeth suggested. “I’m sure they’ll want to be there.”

“We’ll keep an eye out for them too,” Rhodey promised. “But if I can ask...” Percy cocked his head. “Rogers and I spoke to Hermes. He told us that you’d been allotted a particular gift.”

Oh. Percy’s face blazed with heat. “Um, yeah. Kinda.”

“Looks like you didn’t get it,” Rhodey pointed out, studying Percy.

Percy shook his head, and Annabeth grabbed his hand to squeeze firmly. “They don’t know Percy very well,” she said. “He never looks after himself first.”

“They didn’t offer immortality,” Percy explained, choosing to focus on his and Annabeth’s joined hands instead of the older man. “They said I could have whatever I wanted, and they just kind of assumed I’d ask for that. I told them to swear on the Styx to claim their kids from now on.” He glanced up, squirming under the scrutiny. “Because they don’t really do that, you know? A lot of demigods feel abandoned because their parent never claims them. And a lot of other stuff too. It was just... more important that the gods behave better, I guess. Be better parents.”

Rhodey’s eyebrows rose high, but after a minute, he smiled, an odd light in his eyes. “There’s not a lot of people that would make that choice,” he said. “Your mother raised a good man.” Percy beamed. “I haven’t sent in my report yet. If you’d like, I can leave out what you were offered and just say what you asked for.”

Percy scrunched his nose, smile fading. “Why would they care about either of those?”

Rhodey’s expression shifted, becoming a little less warm, a little more serious. “That’s intel,” he said simply. “I’m sure you’ve got some experience with that by now. No one but the very top’s going to see this report, I can promise you that.”

Percy squirmed. “I’m not a bad guy,” he muttered. Annabeth pressed against him in silent reassurance. Rhodey nodded.

“I know,” he said. “And I’m sure they’ll see that. It’s not anything personal, Percy. It’s caution. All they know about you now is that you’re powerful. The decisions you make, the things you do will affect the nation. They need to be able to make informed decisions about how to respond to you, because if they can’t, they’ll make uninformed decisions.”

Percy crossed his arms uncomfortably. “What kind of decisions?”

Rhodey shrugged. “When do you need to know people? Maybe something is going to happen in your vicinity, and they need to know how you’ll react. Or they need to decide whether to tell you something or hide it. Maybe they’re considering asking for your help.” Percy made a face, and Rhodey bumped him. “I know. It’s tough to be looked at as an agent instead of a person. But I think it’s necessary. They’re running a country, not a camp. They can’t get to know every person of interest like you know your campers. There’s too many.”

Percy didn’t like it, but he sort of understood what Rhodey was getting at. He glanced at Annabeth, silently asking for her opinion. Annabeth looked contemplative, a deep furrow in her brow.

Finally, she gave Percy a nod.

“If they don’t get reports, they’ll send spies,” she said. “And if they didn’t send spies, they’d search the public record. It would be easy for them to get the wrong idea about you. At least Rhodey knows you.”

Percy nodded, resigned to the situation, and then leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. She turned bright red, which was fun, and the warmth swept away the last traces of apprehension.

“Alright,” he said to Rhodey. “Um, don’t tell them what the gods offered. Just say they told me I could have anything. I don’t want them to get any weird ideas.” He paused. “Um, I asked for other promises too. Like, a lot. You might want to ask Tony about it.”

Rhodey snorted again, but nodded, then pushed himself up to do business stuff. Percy watched him go until Annabeth drew his attention again.

“Be careful,” she warned him, still holding his hand. “Demigods as a group aren’t as intimidating as the Avengers, but you’re different. You’re powerful. The spooks aren’t going to like that.”

Percy grimaced. “I know,” he said. “But I’m not sure how much I can do. It’s not like I can hide it. I’d get eaten by monsters.”

“I know,” Annabeth echoed. She set her hand on his back, covering his weak point, and he shivered and leaned into it. “Look after yourself. That’s all I’m saying.”

Percy was distracted from approaching when Steve approached them and sat nearby, seemingly relaxed. There were tired lines in his face, but his eyes were still bright and alert.

“So,” he said, and for some reason he caught Percy’s eyes. “Who was it? Silena or Clarisse?”

Percy stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The spy,” Steve said. He seemed relaxed, but Percy was almost certain that was a front. “I thought for a minute that it was Annabeth. From what I know about you, there’s nothing you wouldn’t cover for her. Including this. Right?”

It was a good enough question that it made Percy’s stomach knot despite the impossibility. If Annabeth had turned, if he’d had to choose between Olympus and his best friend... “I’m not answering that.”

Steve nodded. “But if it wasn’t her, then it was Clarisse or Silena.” He caught Percy’s eye and explained, “You said, I believe her.”

Percy muttered a curse under his breath. Annabeth caught his hand to draw his attention. “What’s he talking about?”

Percy gave Steve a dirty look, but gave in to Annabeth. “I’m still not telling,” he said. “But... the spy came to me a couple days ago and promised to stop. Said Kronos wasn’t delivering on his promise to kill as few of us as possible.”

“Silena,” Annabeth decided. “Clarisse is too good a strategist to give away information, and she doesn’t play tricks. She would have just left to join Kronos.” She met Percy’s eyes. “She can help us talk to the surviving demigods from Kronos’ side. No one else has to know.”

Percy relaxed, almost slumping in relief. “I don’t know what to say to her,” he confessed. “I get why she did it, but it doesn’t feel right to brush it under the rug. All of the kids that would be mad at her for it would be upset about us hiding it too, and I don’t know if they’re wrong.”

“I could be the bad guy,” Annabeth said. “Everyone would believe that I figured it out without you actually telling me. It’s close enough to true.”

“Talk to Silena,” Steve disagreed gently. “She’s a sweet girl, she’ll work with you if you explain your reservations. I think it’ll be easier on her too. It takes a certain type of person to keep a secret like this, and Silena isn’t it.”

Percy nodded distractedly, still troubled by the thought. Steve squeezed his shoulder.

“You want my advice? Don’t think about this until tomorrow.” he said. “Take tonight to rest. You’ve earned it.”

“Mr. Jackson, this is press secretary Josephine Esperanza. Josephine, Perseus Jackson, de facto leader of Camp Half-Blood.”

Percy fidgeted while Josephine studied him with sharp, thoughtful eyes, a small laptop on the table in front of her, ready to take notes. “Like the Greek hero, I assume,” she said.

Surprised, Percy nodded. “Perseus was the only hero to have a happy ending,” he said, half by reflex.

It felt strange to be back here, in the same room where Tony had taken him to meet the president before. Now he was here again, after everything, and Ellis, Talbot, and Covey looked exactly the same. The only new face was Josephine.

“A pleasure,” Josephine said briskly. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us – the press conference is tomorrow morning, so we need to have the official story outlined by then.” She tapped a portfolio. “We’ve all been briefed on the essentials of what happened, but we’ll need to go over it in more detail.”

“Great,” Percy said unenthusiastically. Tony tossed him a blue saltwater taffy, and Percy caught it, laughed a little, and unwrapped the candy.

“It’s been a busy week,” Tony explained for him, lounging back comfortably. “Can’t blame the kid for being ready to go home. Let’s get this done.”

Covey nodded. “The media is already speculating about the events of this week,” he said. “The lost time has been noticed, and several outlets received CCTV footage before we were able to suppress it. That won’t last long.”

Percy wrinkled his nose. “They can’t see what happened, can they?”

“Not exactly,” Covey said. “I reviewed the footage that made it to the press. The details are indistinct, but certain dynamics are still clear. The overall impression of attempted invasion is prominent, and the images of the dead and injured are unmistakable.” He nodded at Tony. “The presence of the Avengers is still rumor at this point, but it’s only a matter of time before that changes.”

Tony shrugged. “That can only help us, frankly,” he said. “No easier way to delineate which side humanity is on.”

“There will always be doubt,” Ellis said. “You didn’t mention that there were demigods on both sides.”

Percy stiffened, but Tony stayed relaxed. “Not really relevant,” he said. “The titans are the aggressors, obviously, no need to air thousands of years of dirty laundry. We’re working on folding them back into Camp Half-Blood now.”

“Is that wise?” Ellis asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Percy snapped, before he could think better of it. “Camp is supposed to be a safe haven, not a military base. We’re not leaving them to the monsters because they made bad choices.”

Ellis raised his eyebrows, and Tony nudged Percy, then tossed him something else. Percy caught it and stared in confusion. A cold can of Coke. Where had Tony even gotten that?

“Don’t take it personally,” Tony said, while Percy was distracted. “We held pyre last night – twenty-seven dead on both sides. It’s the second mass funeral in two years, so everyone’s a little on edge.”

His tone was flippant, but there was an undercurrent of steel. Pyre had been hard on everyone. Percy cracked the Coke open and avoided looking at anyone.

Talbot nodded at Percy. “My condolences,” he said, surprising Percy. “Have the families been informed?”

Percy shook his head. “Most of them haven’t talked to their families in years. Everyone who cared about them was there at pyre.”

“Chiron’s decided to inform them as a courtesy,” Tony added. “But not until the news breaks.” Percy glanced at him in surprise. “You’ll understand when you’re older.” Percy scowled at him, and Tony laughed.

The Coke did its job to calm him down, and Percy sipped at it and listened to the others talk for a while.

“It might serve us well to play that up,” Josephine said to Ellis, tapping briskly. “The introduction of a new strain of metahuman is certain to unsettle the public, but emphasizing the role of the task force and glossing over the initial siege should go a long way to reassuring them.”

“We barely held long enough for the Avengers to get there,” Percy pointed out. Talbot snorted.

“A force of one hundred adolescents defended Manhattan from an army of monsters,” he said. “No matter what kind of losses you took, that’s a feat that many would consider impossible.”

Percy felt flustered. “Um.”

Josephine studied him. “You’re not much of a public speaker, are you?” Percy shook his head furiously. “Some coaching might be in order.” Percy made a face. “It would likely improve your leadership skills.”

Percy wavered, then shook his head. “Everyone I led against the titans only followed me because they trust me already,” he said. “I don’t know if I could do that with anyone else.”

“Of course not, you’re sixteen,” Josephine said. “But it would serve you well in the future.”

“We can discuss that later,” Talbot cut in. “What haven’t we discussed yet?”

“The prophecy?” Tony prompted, leaning back in his seat.

“Sealed,” Covey said without looking up. “No one needs to know how tenuous the situation was.”

Percy felt a rush of relief. “Oh, thank the gods.”

“And I thought Colonel Rhodes was exaggerating,” Talbot muttered. Tony laughed.

“I told you, he’s a good kid.”

“I had some questions about your... list of demands,” Ellis said. Heat rushed to Percy’s face. Ellis flipped to a page in his file. “This term, ‘claimed.’ What does it mean?”

“That’s when a godly parent tells their kid who they are,” Percy said, studying his Coke can. “A lot of kids go years without knowing who their parent is, and all of those kids get crammed in the Hermes cabin. It’s like... really alienating.”

“Plenty of children never meet one or both of their parents,” Ellis pointed out. Percy gave him a scornful look, thinking fleetingly of the hundreds of bitter kids he’d met at boarding schools.

“Yeah, those kids aren’t happy either,” he said. “No kid is just okay with it when their parents don’t love them. But gods should behave better. They can’t really be there, but they can damn well claim their kids.”

Ellis hummed, looking pensive for a few moments before the look cleared. “And the age – thirteen. Is there a reason for that?”

Percy nodded. “Twelve is as long as most demigods can go before the monsters find them,” he said. “They need to be at camp and training by then. And we don’t know where those kids are, you know? Their parents do.” Resentment briefly burned in his throat. “Or they should, anyway.”

“Are recruitment efforts focused on elementary schools, then?” Covey asked. Percy looked at Tony, unsure of the answer.

“Fifth, sixth, and seventh grade,” Tony said. “Start too young, and you rip them away from their family. Too old, and you’ve missed the window.” He nodded at Percy. “There’s some leeway for most demigods. The cutoff for strong demigods is twelve, but lesser demigods can reach fourteen, fifteen if they’re lucky.”

“We’ll start screening early,” Covey decided. “If there’s an open community for demigod families, the earlier, the better.”

Percy frowned, but when he looked, Tony was grinning broadly.

“The demigod support program,” he explained, when he caught Percy looking. “It’s still in the early stages, but once we get things worked out, we’ll be a lot better off.”

Percy grinned too, bolstered by the thought.

“You claimed there were peaceful titans?” Ellis prompted, moving down the list.

“This time and last time,” Percy confirmed. “I met Calypso last year. She’s still being punished for supporting her father in the first Titan War. She’s been exiled on her island for like, a million years, all alone. That’s not right.”

All of the mortals looked briefly thrown, probably as stunned as Percy himself felt by the idea. Ellis soon shook it off.

“And the issue of cabins?” he asked.

Percy shrugged, embarrassed. “They deserve better,” he said. “They all deserve better. The children of minor gods shouldn’t be crammed into the Hermes cabin like the details don’t matter. I mean... Hypnos has more kids than Dionysus. Why do Dionysus’ kids get a place to sleep, and Hypnos’ don’t?”

“They certainly allowed you quite a lot of demands,” Ellis observed, reviewing the list.

“They weren’t happy about it,” Percy admitted. “Apparently being good parents is a lot harder than just giving me a magic item or something. But they swore on the Styx to grant my request. I hold them to that promise.”

Thunder grumbled.

“I think that’s all, isn’t it?” Talbot asked Ellis. Ellis nodded, then Josephine. “In that case, I had one more matter to bring up.”

He picked up one of the files scattered across the table and handed it to Percy, who took it without thinking, staring at him in confusion.

“You were promised a reference, and you’ll get it. Apply to the Navy and we’ll put you on the fast track to becoming an officer. You still need proper military training, you’ll have to do boot camp like everyone else, but you’ve proven that you’ve got what it takes and we’d be glad to have you.”

Percy met his eyes. General Talbot looked serious and intent, not a hint of mockery or doubt in his expression. Percy wasn’t sure what to say, but that was okay, because Talbot was still talking.

“You’d do a minimum of five years of service, longer if you go for a more specialized position,” he said. “You’d get a full scholarship, as well as all standard military benefits.” He tapped the paper. “There’s a number there, talk to a recruiter and figure out exactly where you’d want to go.”

It was so unexpected that Percy couldn’t help but be wary. “Is this because of the Curse of Achilles? I’m not joining the military to kill a whole bunch of people. I kill monsters.” It was the biggest point against the idea. Could Percy put himself in that position?

Talbot shook his head. “You’d be wasted in open combat,” he said dismissively. “I read Ashbury’s report on your leadership in the onset. It takes talent and experience to keep your head under pressure, especially in the face of overwhelming odds. Men like you are more valuable as leaders than followers.” He considered Percy for a moment, and then tacked on, “You’d still see combat, but you’re no super soldier.”

For some reason, that was kind of comforting. Percy hesitantly accepted the folder and tucked it close. “Um, I’ll have to think about it. Sorry.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” Talbot informed him.

Chapter Text

The news broke the next morning, right on schedule. Percy was watching then, on the floor by Sally’s feet with Riptide spinning between his fingers. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes focused on the television screen. Sally hummed behind him, laying a hand on his arm.

“She’ll do fine, Percy,” she reassured him. “You practiced this speech with her.”

“The entire camp practiced this speech with her,” he replied, but her words had the desired effect; he relaxed. Matt sat to his left, listening intently, with Foggy keeping a low running commentary of the onscreen visuals.

As the opening statements finished, Tony made his way onto the stage, smirking and swaggering without a glance to the crowd. When he reached the podium, he turned, waved at the cameras, and then slammed his hands onto the edges with a loud bam.

“You know, I really thought we were done with these,” Tony said flippantly to the crowd. “Government sponsored, government run program, I thought PR would be someone else’s problem now. Come on, hands up, how many of you are tired of seeing this handsome face?” A ripple of laughter and a few raised hands. “Okay, rude.”

Someone cleared their throat. Tony’s smile faltered.

“Okay, Pepper’s reminding me to stop talking and get to the point, thanks, Pep, kiss kiss.” Tony clapped his hands once, kept them clasped, and let his smile fade.

In response, the crowd quieted, hushing for a brief moment. Subconsciously, Percy leaned forward, focusing on the television. Sally held her breath. Matt was rigid.

“The world’s changing, everyone. In 2011, a Norse god landed in our desolate backyard, and a year later returned to fight against his brother, another Norse god. And so we learned that the Norse myths were real. But I’m going to let you all in on a millennia-old secret, okay?” He leaned forward, and took his sunglasses off, and smiled. You could have heard a pin drop. “Norse mythology isn’t the only mythos walking the Earth.”

The room exploded.

Despite expecting the response, Percy jumped, and it was a moment before he was able to begin making out the questions filtering through their cheap speaker system.

“How did you learn this, Mr. Stark?”

“Mr. Stark, are you implying that not only Norse, but all myths are real?”

“Mr. Stark, does this have anything to do with last week’s riot?”

“Which myths are you referring to, Mr. Stark?”

“Mr. Stark, why is this only being revealed now?”

Tony waited out the clamor, still smiling, and swiftly tucked his sunglasses into his jacket. Eventually, when the noise started to die down, he straightened up and lifted his hands for silence, which arrived only reluctantly.

“Greek myths,” Tony said clearly, his voice carrying with ease. “The Twelve Labors of Hercules. The Iliad and the Odyssey. Princess Andromeda, Perseus, and Medusa. All of these stories, and every story like them, are real - and the gods and monsters that appear in them are still alive today!”

He had to raise his voice toward the end as the reporters burst into motion again, calling out and chattering.

At home, Percy exhaled, nose crinkling anxiously. He glanced at Sally, whose eyes were fixed on the screen, her grip like iron on his arm, and scooted closer so their sides pressed together before looking back at the screen. Sally relaxed slightly, and Percy copied her.

“They are still alive!” Tony continued at last, raising his voice to be heard. “And they are still affecting the world around them!” He crossed his arms and waited, and when he was satisfied with the quiet, he went on, “I’m going to hand this conference over to Annabeth Chase-” Percy’s heart skipped a beat, and Sally squeezed his arm. “-who has been selected to represent the Greek world.”

Tony stepped aside with a sweeping motion of one arm, and a moment later, Annabeth appeared on the podium, Yankees cap in her hand and her steel-grey eyes fixed on one of the cameras. The television’s view quickly switched to that camera, so she appeared to be looking the viewer right in the eye.

Just as it had the day he met her, Annabeth’s gaze made Percy feel as if she could see his every weakness. Not a trace of uncertainty revealed itself on her face.

Annabeth was amazing.

Annabeth did not wait for the cries of alarm to die down; she launched straight into the speech that every camper at Camp Half-Blood had by now heard half a dozen times, now delivered with more confidence than ever before.

“My name is Annabeth Chase,” she announced, setting her cap on the podium. “I am sixteen years old. My father, Frederick Chase, is a history professor at West Point University. Until I was seven I did not know who my mother was.”

She paused. No questions intruded into the silence.

“While I was growing up, I would sometimes look around and see monsters. In preschool, a Cyclops tried to pick me up from school. In second grade, a hellhound sniffed around my front yard for two hours. Most strangely of all, some nights I would be swarmed by dozens of spiders, which would bite me and terrorize me for hours. By morning the bite marks would fade, and no one believed me.”

Pause, and she took a breath.

“Between all of these things, and my family’s denial of them, I made a drastic choice. I ran away from home at the age of seven.”

Pause.

“A week later, I discovered that my mother was Athena, the goddess of wisdom.”

Another pause, and this time Annabeth waited. After a few moments, murmurs began to rise, and then gradually accelerated into a crescendo.

Annabeth didn’t even blink. She’d been practicing that, too. Instead, her eyes scanned the crowd, head turning just slightly to include the entire room. She held herself well, tall and confident - like a goddess did.

“I am half mortal and half god,” she continued, when she judged the mood of the room to be right. “A demigod, or, informally, a half-blood. And there are dozens of children like me - almost a dozen adults. Most of them have stories like mine. Some of them are found by satyrs.” A heartbeat. “All of them come to Camp Half-Blood, where we learn to battle monsters, work together, and run quests for the gods. I’ve been there for nine years, longer than almost any demigod currently alive.”

One last pause, and Annabeth settled her arms on the podium in front of her, seemingly unfazed.

“Ask your questions.”

Percy let out the breath he’d been holding, and then grinned, relaxing back against the couch with a huff.

“That was perfect,” Sally breathed beside him, and Percy bobbed his head.

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely, watching Annabeth demand order from the reporters before she would answer questions.

Foggy whistled. “What a girl,” he said, with unmistakable admiration. “That’s it, then? Everyone knows?”

Percy nodded. “Within the next day or two, anyway,” he said. “They’re going to stop suppressing the footage from the battle too. Tony said that’d probably be up on YouTube within a few hours.”

“What do you think?” Foggy asked. “Are you more excited or worried?”

Percy considered that for a moment. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “This is going to change... everything. It’ll be good for us in the long run, but I dunno how rough the transition’s gonna be.”

“Matt?” Foggy prompted. Matt let out a breathy chuckle.

“I doubt anything will change for me,” he said. “Even as Daredevil, I didn’t have much to do with anything. Spent just about the whole time looking after the injured kids.” He sighed. “What I wouldn’t have given to have Claire with us.”

“She never would’ve forgiven you,” Foggy said, making Matt snort.

“You fought Nemesis, didn’t you?” Percy pointed out, twisting to look at him. “How did that go? I wasn’t paying attention, sorry.”

“Yes, well, you were a little busy,” Matt said. “It wasn’t quite as bad as the fight that laid me up just before we met, but it was a close thing. I... really don’t have what it takes to stand against a god.” He shook his head, rueful. “She was playing with me. Said that I was too much of her domain to throw away. Then when I said that Ethan had gotten hurt, she just... vanished, without a word.”

“How is he?” Percy wanted to know.

Matt shrugged. “I only visited him the once,” he said. “He was- withdrawn. We didn’t really have anything to say to each other, so it was pretty awkward. I think he’s struggling with what to do now that Kronos is gone. I did tell him that you were adamant about letting them back in, but he just scoffed.”

“No wonder,” Foggy said. “He got a lot of people hurt. They all did.”

He winced, clearly expecting Percy to get angry, but Percy couldn’t bring himself to. He sighed instead.

“I can’t fix that for them,” he said, watching the television again. They’d moved past the basic questions now, and Annabeth was explaining what had happened during the last week. “I can’t make people forget what happened. But sending them away... they’d be monster food. I can’t do that to them.”

Even Clarisse had agreed, though she hadn’t been happy about it – as far as Percy knew, she still wasn’t speaking to Silena.

Sally threaded her fingers into Percy’s hair, and he relaxed, tipping his head into her hand. “You’ve done what you can for them.”

Percy nodded. “Silena says that Luke’s turn really shook them up,” he said. “None of them are sure what to think anymore. And if that conviction is gone, maybe we can bring them back in.”

“Luke... the man that was hosting Kronos?” Foggy asked.

“He’s not... he wasn’t that much older than me,” Percy said. “Twenty-three. And yeah. Everyone loved Luke a lot before he turned to Kronos. A lot of the kids that left were following him, not Kronos.”

“Did you?” Foggy asked. “Like him, I mean.”

Percy shook his head, then changed his mind and nodded. “Yeah,” Percy said. “At first, anyway. He was really nice to me when I first came to camp. No one else made me feel welcome like that.” He shrugged without looking at them. “But then he took me out to the woods to kill me, and those feelings kind of went away.”

“He what?”

A year and a half of control had done a lot for Foggy’s tone, and even when he was angry, he was rarely loud or intimidating. Percy didn’t even twitch.

“He wanted to exit with a bang, I guess,” Percy said, fidgeting with Riptide without looking at anyone. “So... yeah. He set a pit scorpion on me. Made it kinda hard to see the good in him after that. But I guess it was still there, somewhere.”

“Percy.” Foggy slid off the couch to sit on the floor on Matt’s other side, startling Percy into looking at him. Foggy looked serious, oddly intense. “That guy tried to murder you... when you were, what, fourteen?”

“Twelve,” Percy muttered. Foggy grabbed his elbow and squeezed, drawing Percy’s reluctant attention to him.

“That’s horrible,” Foggy said, with obvious sincerity. “No wonder your feelings are complicated. It would take a saint to forgive him for that.”

Percy’s shoulders loosened. “He just, like, saved the world.”

“And I’m grateful for that,” Foggy said. “I can be happy to be alive and also upset that someone tried to kill you before you hit your teens. Did you get help after that? Counseling, protection, a safety net, anything?”

“No. Why would I?”

“Jesus, it’s like talking to Matt,” Foggy muttered. Matt made an offended sound. “Because you were a child, and someone – that you considered a friend – tried to murder you. That’s horrible. That’s extremely traumatic.” He looked at Sally. “Did you know about this?”

“Where could I have taken him, Foggy?” Sally asked, an unmistakable cast of exhaustion over her voice. “Any normal therapist would have pushed for action. They would have had questions I couldn’t answer, concerns I couldn’t satisfy. It could have been the bid that ruined everything, right when things were looking up for us.” Foggy frowned. “It was the same summer that Gabriel disappeared.”

Percy shrugged. “It was the push I needed to come home,” he told Sally. “Until then... I was happier at camp than I’d been in a long time. Maybe happier than I’d ever been outside of Montauk. But after that, I knew I needed to stay with you. You’re my mom. That’s more important than anything.” He hadn’t known, then, that he could be that happy at home too. He was glad he’d decided to return.

Sally’s smile was pained. “I love you too, baby,” she murmured, running her fingers through his hair.

Annabeth put her hat on and disappeared from the stage, and Tony took her place to wrap up the conference.

Rachel had drawn more pictures.

“This is Camp Half-Blood,” Percy said. Rachel nodded.

“I’ve been seeing you in it,” she admitted. “Playing basketball, teaching kids how to fight, canoeing on the lake.”

Rachel and Percy had never talked much about camp – they were usually busy. “Just me?”

Rachel shook her head. “Plenty of other kids. I just don’t recognize anyone else.” She looked down. “I need to go there.”

“Mortals... don’t really go to Camp Half-Blood, Rachel.”

“I need to,” she insisted. “I have to talk to the Oracle.”

A chill ran down Percy’s spine as several things clicked into place. “That’s not a good idea,” he said. “It’s calling to you, isn’t it?” Rachel nodded. “Rachel, the last woman to offer to host the Spirit of Delphi went insane. She can’t tell yesterday from ten years ago, she can’t even recognize her son. It’s been cursed for a century. We don’t know that that’s changed.” Maybe Hades had remembered to lift the curse, maybe he didn’t have to, but the idea of Rachel ending up like May Castellan filled Percy with panic.

“But you think it might be,” Rachel said, meeting Percy’s eyes. Percy hesitated. “It is. I know it is. You can’t stop this, Percy. I have to go to Camp Half-Blood, and I have to talk to the Oracle. I’ll find my own way there if I have to.”

The thing was, Percy didn’t doubt it. “...Alright. I’ll take you. But talk to Chiron before you do anything. He’ll have a better idea of what could happen than I do, I think.”

“Deal,” Rachel said.

Chapter Text

While Rachel was conferring with the Oracle, Percy took the opportunity to check on Silena. Asking after her resulted in shifty eyes and grumbles, but eventually, someone pointed him toward the woods, and Percy went to look for her.

She and Beckendorf were hanging out at the mouth of the stream, Silena leaning into Beckendorf with her head on his shoulder, while Beckendorf worked quietly on something complicated. Beckendorf looked up sharply when he heard Percy coming, and Percy waved at him. Beckendorf relaxed and lifted his hand in return. Percy settled across from them.

“Hey,” he said. “How are things going for you?”

Already subdued, Silena wilted at the question.

“Not well,” she said, with a shaky, self-recriminating smile. “Most of my siblings aren’t speaking to me. They’re all upset with me. They’re even talking about choosing a new counselor.” Her voice wavered.

Percy’s chest ached with sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad that I came clean,” Silena clarified without looking at him. “I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself, going to pyre and pretending like I didn’t help do that. I just... I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“You weren’t stupid,” Beckendorf said, soft but fierce. “You wanted to protect them, and Kronos exploited that. That’s what he does. It’s not your fault.”

Silena pulled her knees up. “I couldn’t believe that Luke would really do anything to hurt us,” she said quietly. “He helped me take care of new campers for years. When they cried, when they were homesick, when they were having trouble making friends. Where did that boy go? What happened to the Luke that would go outside the border to help kids make it to camp?”

“I don’t know,” Percy said. “I don’t think he really knows, either.”

“He was always angry,” Beckendorf said, without looking at Percy. “I knew it, Chiron knew it, Will and Katie and Clarisse- we all knew he hated the gods. But I never thought anything of it. We all had those days sometimes.”

Percy nodded and looked at Silena. “It’s gonna be tough for a while,” he said. “Just keep being yourself, okay? Eventually they’ll figure out that you’re the same as you’ve always been. You care about us more than anyone. That means something.”

Silena gave him a watery smile. “Thanks, Percy.”

They kept talking for a while after that. Percy told them about the job offer he’d gotten, and Beckendorf confided that he’d gotten a similar offer. They debated the merits of the mortal military versus SHIELD versus striking out on their own in the civilian sector. Then they talked about Sally, and how she was doing and the book she was working on. By the time Percy got up to return to the Big House, Silena had relaxed, looking almost content.

A couple of the counselors were deep in conversation, leaning over a newspaper and arguing about something. Rachel was at the table too, thumbing through her sketchbook. Percy zeroed in on her.

“Did you do it?” he asked anxiously. Rachel glanced up and smirked.

“I sure did,” she said. “Who’s special now?”

Not entirely reassured, Percy looked at Chiron. Chiron gave him a small smile, content and reassuring, and Percy relaxed.

“That’s great,” he said. “Does that mean you’re living here now?” He figured she wouldn’t be too upset to be away from home.

Rachel shook her head. “Chiron and I talked about it already,” she said. “I’ll spend summers here, like you do, but otherwise I’ll keep my mortal life and hope the Spirit tells me if I’m needed early.” She shrugged. “Chiron says I’ll only host the Oracle until I’m in my thirties, or at least, that’s how long it usually lasts. I’ll need to have a life of my own when I get to that point.”

“You’ll do a great job,” Percy said. Rachel smiled a little.

“I guess I won’t have to worry about keeping it a secret,” she added. “I saw Annabeth’s speech. I didn’t know she had that kind of performance in her.”

Percy beamed. “She did amazing, right?”

That caught the attention of the other kids, and most of them shifted around to sit at the table and join the conversation.

“It seems so unreal,” Katie admitted. Percy could still see the burns from the drakon’s venom, scarred across her cheek and nose and only barely missing her eye. “I haven’t seen my family since I was ten. I... I could do that, now. I could go and we wouldn’t have to lie about where I’d been all this time.”

“You could’ve just done that before,” Clarisse pointed out. Katie shook her head.

“Not where they live,” she said. “My parents are Amish, and me leaving was already pretty against the rules. They could be excommunicated if they play with the rules like they have to with me. I don’t want that for them.”

“You want to be Amish?”

Katie rolled her eyes. “No,” she said. “I just want to see my family again.”

“Our family can go fuck themselves,” Travis volunteered, gesturing to himself and Connor. Percy checked instinctively, but couldn’t find any trace of Connor’s burns until he caught a glimpse of scarring around his collarbone. It must be under his clothing. “Our home is here, period. Forget it.”

Clarisse grunted in agreement. “I was glad to be rid of her,” she said. “I don’t care what the mortals know. That’s not my world. It never will be.”

“It could be,” Will said quietly. “I could start going to school again. Get on track to be a doctor. You could too.”

“I’m not a fucking doctor, Solace.” But Clarisse’s averted gaze said she knew what he really meant.

“We were talking about maybe holding an event or something,” Rachel added to Percy. “You know, something to introduce demigods as a community. I could help arrange it, or Tony could, I guess.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Percy said. “What were you thinking?”

“An expo,” Katie said. “Something where demigods can show off, maybe reconnect with their families if they want. The Hephaestus and Athena kids could show off their work. My siblings and I could bring some flowers and fruits.”

“We could have some athletics competitions too,” Will added. “Open it up so mortal kids can join in. Something friendly. Archery, racing, basketball. Make it fun.”

Percy considered that. “We should send out invitations, if we’re gonna do that,” he said. “So that we can make sure families get there. It’d be a really good platform to start connecting with people.” He smiled. “Mom and I could set up a table too.”

“Enterprising,” Rachel teased, making Percy’s smile turn sheepish.

“I don’t think anyone would mind that,” Katie said. “Especially not if it means we can have cookies.”

“Then let’s take the idea to Chiron,” Percy said. “He’ll help us figure it out.”

School started long before Percy was ready for it. By then, the story had broken, and footage of the battle had been circulating for a few days. Luckily, clips of the Avengers were front and center as always; the more painful footage, the stuff with meaning, was for now confined to the news sites more dedicated to serious journalism. According to Tony, that stuff wouldn’t start circulating for at least a week.

By the same token, Percy knew Ben was working on his own cover of the reveal. They’d let him in on it a few weeks before the official reveal, so he’d had a head start, but he was taking the task very seriously, so it wouldn’t be ready to publish for a while. After his coverage of Sally and Percy’s stories, Percy was almost looking forward to it.

An hour before classes began on the first day of school, Percy was in the office, slouching on a chair in front of the principal.

“Captain America came to speak to me about your situation personally,” Principal Hendrickson said to Percy. It was hard to get a read on his mood – some mixture of annoyed, unnerved, amazed, and wary. “He told me that you were instrumental to their victory during the Knockout.”

Percy shrugged. “I guess,” he muttered. “I was there, anyway. What about it?”

“He made it clear,” Hendrickson said, “that your role in the fight would be undeniable once people began to examine the footage closely. So undeniable that it was likely to cause a ruckus among your classmates.”

Percy had to hold back a groan. “Am I being expelled?”

Hendrickson looked startled. “No! No, certainly not, I wouldn’t dream of it. Captain America himself came to vouch for you, after all, and who am I to question his judgement?” He shook his head, still looking unsettled. “But Percy... why were you there at all?”

Percy studied him for a moment and decided that he seemed to be sincere.

“I’m a demigod,” he said bluntly. Henrickson shifted again, uneasy and uncertain, but didn’t interrupt. “We’ve been wrapped up in this fight since the beginning. Last year, the same people that attacked New York last week attacked our camp, basically our home.” He scuffed the floor, moody and rough. “Fighting in New York was for the same reasons. To protect each other and defend our home.”

“You’re barely sixteen.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Percy said, an edge creeping into his voice. “Being a demigod sucks. It’s dangerous. Death is such a normal part of our lives that we weave shrouds on craft days and sing funeral songs around the campfire.” He took a deep breath, trying to control himself. “I’m lucky, in some ways. My dad is a powerful god, and I’m the best swordsman at camp right now. So yeah, I’ll stand out. But I’m not special. I was there for the same reason everyone else was, and that’s because life isn’t fair.”

Henrickson looked gobsmacked. “There were other children there?”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah? Did you look at any of the footage?”

Color dusted Henrickson’s face. “Only the viral clips,” he admitted. “I haven’t gone out of my way to look.”

Percy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, there were dozens,” he said. “Me and some of the other counselors, for one, but all the senior campers were there in the beginning. And then there were...” He trailed off.

“Did any...” Henrickson looked afraid to ask. It gave Percy an odd feeling of pity.

“Twenty-seven,” Percy said. He crossed his arms, and didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in his voice. “There should have been zero.” Or one. He would have settled for one.

“I’m sorry,” Henrickson said, looking stricken. He hesitated, and then said, “The school, ah, offers counseling services...” He trailed off.

Percy wanted to laugh, but that would probably be mean. “No thanks. The last thing I want is to talk about it.”

Henrickson seemed relieved to have an excuse not to press the issue. “Your schedule should remain business as usual," he said. “Your teachers have been notified that you’re one of the demigods Miss Chase spoke about, but nothing beyond that. Let me know if anyone gives you any trouble about it. Our non-discrimination policy stands.”

With a force of will, Percy relaxed. “Thanks,” he said, and he kind of meant it. “Can I go now?”

By the time Percy got out of the office, the school had filled with kids lining up to pick up their schedules. Most of them had their phones out, showing each other videos and news clips at volumes that were usually considered rude. No one cared. Everyone wanted to talk about Tony wrestling the Clazmonian sow, Sam and Rhodey clashing with the chimera, Steve and Wanda and Vision against the strange man with time powers and Greek armor.

Meeting Ned and Peter outside the gym was a relief. While they were excited too – they usually were – at least they had already known.

“Dude, is that you?” Ned whispered to Percy. Percy glanced over and winced when he realized it was a clip of him and Thor teaming up against Hyperion. That was definitely gonna get him noticed before anything else.

“Yeah,” he admitted. Ned mouthed cool and put his phone away, apparently satisfied. MJ appeared out of the crowd with her schedule under her arm.

“So it was all true then,” she said to Percy. Percy shrugged. MJ did, too. “I wasn’t sure what to think before. It’s a pretty wild story. But hey, these are wild times.”

Percy smiled a little and nodded. “I was surprised you took it so well,” he admitted. “I’m glad the Avengers are kind of sucking up all the attention for now. A lot of stuff happened that no one needs to see.”

“Those clips are up too,” MJ informed him, not unsympathetically. “The New York Times has already noticed you, and the really early fighting, too. All of the kids on the first day. What happened?”

Percy shrugged. “No one else was there yet,” he said. “We’re demigods. We’ve been training to fight monsters all our lives. I knew...” He twirled Riptide in his hands, uncomfortable. “It wouldn’t be pretty, but I knew we could handle it. Push back the first wave.”

“It’s scary to watch,” MJ said quietly. “It was so brutal.”

“Can I see?” Peter asked, the first time he’d spoken up. “I don’t have a Times subscription.”

“You should,” MJ informed him, but she shifted aside and opened up the app. Percy left them to it. He’d seen as much as he wanted to.

Halfway through lunch, Flash marched up and shoved his phone in Percy’s face. “Is this you?” he demanded.

Percy glanced at the video. It was one of him and Thor again, wrestling Hyperion into submission. He shrugged and nodded. No point denying it. “Yeah. What about it?”

“Prove it,” Flash ordered. Percy rolled his eyes and debated with himself for a moment.

On one hand, he didn’t need to prove anything to this asshole, or anyone else for that matter. It was none of their business what role he’d played in the fight for Olympus. On the other, he’d just be making things more difficult for himself if he played dumb. He’d probably have to field more questions.

“No,” he decided. “You have eyes. You can see that it’s me. If you don’t wanna believe it, that’s your problem. Doesn’t matter to me.” He played with Riptide. “I’m not here to be a sideshow. I’m here to finish high school. Aren’t you?”

“Are you an Avenger?” Flash asked, undeterred. Percy scowled at him, and he flinched.

“No,” Percy said sharply. “I’m a kid that got dragged into a war that shouldn’t have been mine. If it had been aliens, or HYDRA, or robots or something, I wouldn’t have been there. I’d’ve been home with my mom, like I was every other time.”

“But why?” Flash looked genuinely uncomprehending, and it made Percy weirdly angry. “You totally could, if you wanted to.”

“Well, I don’t,” he snapped. “That-” He pointed at Flash’s phone, though the screen had gone black. “-wasn’t fun. None of it was. It was scary and painful and hard, and I feel sick, and I feel sad. You’re an idiot if you don’t understand that.”

Flash didn’t look any more understanding, but luckily, the outburst got through to enough people that a couple of Flash’s friends pulled him away, and the small crowd dispersed. Percy sighed and leaned on the table, feeling worn out. His three friends were quiet. Flash showed the video of Percy to a crowd around him, and Percy could almost see the ripple effect outward, the video passing on and people craning their necks to look at their table.

“Tony offered to let me become an Avenger.”

Peter’s words startled Percy, and he glanced up. Ned stared at Peter like he was an alien. “Yeah? I guess you have the power for it.”

Peter nodded. His expression was self-conscious, his face pink, but his eyes were steady. “Yeah,” he said. “But... I’d had some really close calls when I was working with DD. Vulture was meaner than I realized, and he didn’t care that I was a kid.” He shrugged. “It made me realize I wasn’t ready to take that step. I wasn’t ready to have this stuff be my whole life. So I said no.”

Percy managed a smile for Peter, grateful for the commiseration. “You made a good choice,” he said. “I’m glad you realized that.”

“Excuse me, what?” MJ demanded, and Peter covered his mouth, mortified. Percy finally relaxed and laughed at his friend.

Luckily, the rest of the cafeteria was too distracted to notice as Peter stumbled through the explanation, transfixed in MJ’s razor-sharp gaze. The low murmur that filled the room was louder than usual, and people kept stealing looks at Percy, while a few just outright stared. He exhaled.

His teachers had been staring, too, when they thought he wasn’t looking. He guessed it could’ve been worse. No one had seemed angry yet, or scared of him or anything. Just... curious. Unsure.

That was fine. Percy was pretty unsure about all of this too.

“You wanna come over and finish the Death Star after school?” Ned offered, and Percy grinned.

“Sure,” he said. “Sounds great. Can you text my mom and let her know?”

The Children of Giants: Hidden Victims of Our Monstrous World

By Ben Urich

          I wasn’t invited to the funeral pyre. That was a private ceremony, reserved for demigods, nature spirits, and Chiron, the trainer of heroes. Percy Jackson, 16, told me about it later.

          “We’ve never burned anyone in store-bought shrouds before,” he says. He plays with his pen, the sword he’s carried since he was twelve, as he speaks, eyes focused on the past. “Their cabinmates weave them by hand, usually, or the Athena cabin if they don’t have siblings. But these kids... we didn’t know who’d left or who’d been killed by monsters. And then we had all these bodies, and it was wrap them in cheap cotton or burn them bare.”

          “Did finding shrouds for them help you make peace with their deaths?” I ask. The tradition is unfamiliar to me, and I find myself curious about it.

          “As much as anything could, I guess,” Percy says. His gaze wanders, flicking from the windows to the door to his pen. “I mean... I wasn’t in charge of that. But they got patterns with things they liked, their favorite colors, stuff like that. For me, it was more about showing respect. Throwing them on the fire without anything... it would’ve been one more way the world failed them. I couldn’t let that happen.”

          “Do you have a shroud?”

          “Yeah,” he says. He doesn’t flinch. This is normal for him. “I got it two years ago. Sea-green wool, shimmery like light in the water. Malcolm Pace, one of Annabeth’s siblings, made it for me. He did all the dying and spinning and weaving by himself. It’s beautiful. I keep it under my bed at camp.”

[Continue reading]

Comments

Josephine Tinsworth

I don’t understand how this was happening under our noses. Have we become so numb to the disappearances and violence?

     Kenneth Field

     of course we have. shootings aliens robots bombs disease. this is hell we live in hell

     Charles Brown

     We should’ve stamped this out years ago. We never should’ve let the Avengers form. Look at this. Look at the world we live in. This is where tolerance got us. I hope every single person that supports them reads this article and kills themselves.

     Charles Ortiz

     Shut the hell up. This problem is older than God. We’re just learning about it. And I’m sick of learning about it.

     [17 more replies]

Isaiah Francois

How do you have sex with a god? Inquiring minds want to know

          Georgie Franco

          Have you seen these people? Sally Jackson, Frederick Chase, Jolene Fletcher, David Beauregard, Katherine Beckendorf? Look them up in Images. You don’t have a chance in hell, dude.

Hugo Menendez

‘We turn on to the subject of funeral songs, and he teaches me the lyrics to his favorite, All My Friends Are On Fire.

“It’s funny,” he explains to me. “You know? It’s to the same tune as the meatball song, and then it’s just a bunch of stupid ways for a half-blood to die. Go swimming in the Sea of Monsters, play fetch with a hellhound, arm-wrestle a cyclops, get swallowed whole by a dragon. It’s silly. It’s a silly song.”’

Anyone else fucked up by this? Just me?

Charles Brown

Never thought I’d feel pity for a mutant freak.

          [67 replies]

Haley Freeman

Is there something we can do? A gofundme or a foundation that’s helping them?

     Hickory Fujioka

     There will be! Tony Stark put out a press release the day after this came out. He’s working on a foundation that will put some safety nets in place for these kids – protected communities, academic accommodations, a foster program, things like that. It’s SI-funded, but they’ll still need hands and resources.

     Haley Freeman

     What’s it called?

     James Nakamura

     The New Greek Testament. Its inaugural event is next month. You can find the information here.

Chapter Text

The attention got harder to brush off as the mainstream media shifted focus from the Avengers to the deeper aspects of what had happened. Headlines moved on from comparisons, diplomacy, and damage analysis to the stuff Percy had been dreading, and his name and face started to crop up again and again.

A Name for the Avengers’ Mysterious Ally

Son of the Sea: Thor Speaks on Percy Jackson

What Happened to Williamsburg Bridge?

Against Light, Time, and Monsters

Then they started to dig deeper, unearthing parts of Percy’s checkered past in their attempt to understand what was happening around them.

Six Schools in Six Years

Unveiled: The Truth Behind Percy Jackson’s 2013 Manhunt (Never-before-seen footage!)

Blue Food, Gold Blood

Eighteen Shocking Photos of Percy Jackson Across America

What Happened To Gabriel Ugliano? (And Do We Really Care?)

“I should’ve worn a mask or something,” Percy grumbled, burrowing into his arms. Rhodey made a sympathetic, if somewhat amused noise, still finishing up his breakfast sandwich.

Percy hadn’t been expecting the training sessions with the Avengers to continue, but Natasha had kept coming to get him on Saturdays, and he definitely wasn’t complaining. It had also given him a place to process the shifting news circuit as the world around them adjusted to their new reality.

“You would have ripped it off,” Wanda pointed out, making Percy snort.

“That wouldn’t have fixed everything,” Clint said wisely. “Thor, man, what’s the deal? Why’d you talk about the kid to the media?”

Thor wrinkled his nose. “I am unused to concealing honorable truths about my shield-brothers,” he said. “Perseus has done many things to be proud of, and deserves the praise he receives from your media. This secrecy is unnatural to me.”

Tony patted his arm. “I know, big guy, but Percy is a small kid and they’re trying to put him in big shoes. You think little me wanted every one of his inventions plastered across every newspaper in the US? No, Percy can tell his own stories when he’s good and ready.”

Percy gave Tony an embarrassed, but grateful smile; he hadn’t expected sympathy from that corner, but it was a relief. Thor huffed.

“Very well,” he grumbled, “but let it be known that Perseus deserves this honor and more.” Percy buried his face again to hide his blush.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” he admitted. “How am I gonna live a normal life if everyone sees me and just thinks of all this?”

“You won’t live a normal life,” Natasha told him, drawing his attention. She raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “You live your life, which was never going to be normal anyway. You figure out what you want to do, and you get there no matter what anyone else thinks. If what you want is to be a marine biologist, does it really matter if your coworkers also know that you led the first defense of Olympus?”

Percy wrinkled his nose. “I guess not?” he said uncertainly. “But... I dunno. I want that stuff to be separate.”

“We’re past that now,” Natasha said. “What you wanted was a place to pretend that you had never seen battle, but it was never going to be the truth. There were always going to be holes in your story, and more importantly, you would have known the truth.”

“Jesus, Natasha,” Sam muttered. Percy slumped down.

“Then what do I do?”

“You live your truth,” Natasha said. “You’re an experienced demigod that wants to be a marine biologist. It’s not a natural fit, and it won’t be easy, but you’ll make it work. And to your coworkers, that’s what you’ll be. A marine biologist.”

It was complicated, what Natasha was trying to explain to him, but Percy thought he understood. “Because being a demigod doesn’t mean I can’t be a marine biologist, and no one else can get in the way of that.”

Natasha nodded at him. “Exactly.”

Percy smiled, and as the conversation moved on, he leaned back and closed his eyes without thinking. The reassurance relaxed him, and he wanted to bask in it for a moment. A few minutes later, Rhodey shook him awake.

“We’ll have to figure out a way to counter the energy cost of the Curse of Achilles though,” Tony said offhandedly, eying him with thinly disguised concern. Percy blinked a few times, still waking up, and slowly realized he'd missed part of the conversation. “I’ll have FRIDAY play with some calculations. A change in diet might help.”

“You think so?” Percy said hopefully. He’d thought it would cool off once he wasn’t fighting constantly anymore, but he was still falling asleep whenever he sat still long enough. It was making school even harder than usual.

“Sure,” Tony said. “I think it did something to your metabolism, and that’s what’s making you pass out. You’re still on a normal human diet, right?”

“I’ve been eating more,” Percy admitted. “We’ve been getting a lot of snack bars and stuff.” He’d been trying to go easy on it, because that stuff added up, but somehow his mom always knew when he was hungry.

“First indication that you’re not getting enough,” Steve told him, drawing his attention. “Are you worried about money? I’m sure we could help with that.” Percy winced. “Thought so.”

“Are you kidding me?” Tony said. “Send me a bill. I’ll pay for all the food in your household, I don’t care. I won’t even look at it. You’re not going hungry because your mom is in school and Foggy is a softy idealist.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Percy protested, uncomfortable. “I’ll get a part-time job, I’ve been thinking about it anyway.”

“Sure, do that too, buy yourself some cool stuff,” Tony said dismissively. “But you are not gonna do it because you need more food now. I’m thinking a high-calorie, protein-heavy diet with a good amount of fat. If the Curse is wearing your body down, that should build it back up.”

Percy shrugged. “So I’ll buy steak or something. It’s not your problem.”

Rhodey snorted. “That’s where you’re wrong, kid. You’ve been coming over every week for a year and a half. You are absolutely now Tony’s problem.”

“What he means,” Sam cut in, “is that you’re a good kid, Percy, and Tony doesn’t mind paying for your food. We want you to be healthy, and we don’t want you to struggle to get what you need, especially considering why you need it.”

Color spread across Percy’s face again. “He doesn’t have to.”

“No, but he wants to anyway,” Sam said. “He cares about you.”

“You’re giving me hives,” Tony complained. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t we talk to your mother about this?” Natasha suggested sweetly. Percy yelped. “I’m sure she’d be interested to hear that you need more food than you’re getting.”

And then his mom would be the one insisting that she work and pay for all of this extra food. “Okay, okay! I get it. Um... thanks.”

It wasn’t as sincere as he’d meant it to be. The entire conversation was making his chest tighten unpleasantly, and he really, really wanted out of it.

Tony raised an eyebrow, and Sam, thankfully, beat him to it.

“Money talk gives him hives,” he reminded Tony. Startled, Percy wondered how closely Sam had been tracking him and his mom’s stuff, the statements they’d given in the course of the Blue Food Project work. Though he’d held a lot of it back, he’d talked more about his abuse during those events than he’d ever thought he would – or could. “Should we get down to business? I want to nominate Steve to spar with the kid.”

Percy laughed, like Sam had probably intended. Like everything else in his life, the Curse of Achilles had affected his spars with the Avengers. Instead of clashing against one of them, Steve or Thor or Bucky or whoever felt like it that day, Percy would face all three of them if he wanted to practice his swordplay. Standing his ground against three Avengers gave him the same feeling that decimating monster hordes did.

“We should move that training down to maintenance,” Natasha disagreed. “I thought that Clint and I could start working on his hand-to-hand. Demigod standard is decent, but with some work, we could bring him up to SHIELD level.”

The thought was much more exciting than Percy would’ve expected. “That sounds like fun,” he said. “Can we do that? I want to break a monster’s neck with my thighs.” And then maybe he could teach Annabeth to do it. That would be pretty hot.

Natasha chuckled. “It would take a lot of work to reach that level,” she said, “but you have the build for it.”

“Not if he keeps getting taller like this,” Clint pointed out. Percy considered.

“Worth it.” He was getting close to Steve’s height now. It was great.

“I want to give him arms training,” Bucky said unexpectedly. Percy’s stomach flipped, and his discomfort must have shown on his face, because he continued, “It’s an important skill to have, with lives like ours.” He glanced at Percy, expression neutral. “The skill alone won’t hurt anyone. Firing a gun at someone will.”

“Can I think about it?” Percy asked warily. “I want to ask Mom what she thinks.”

Bucky nodded. “Take your time. There’s no urgent need for it.”

The comment made Percy grimace, and he rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. “I guess not, huh? Then why bother? I mean... you don’t need me to help save the world anymore.” He’d been wondering about that since Natasha had picked him up, but he wasn’t sure how to ask.

“Unfortunately for you, you’re still a Big Three demigod,” Clint informed him, “and a really powerful one at that. You need all the help you can get. And demigods stick together.”

Percy hid a delighted smile against his arm.

Fence meets started up a couple weeks after the start of the school year. Midtown had a pretty small team, only four players, and the captain seemed pleased to have someone show interest. He taught Percy the ropes personally.

“What do you know about fencing already?” he asked Percy.

“Um, you use a weapon that’s kind of a sword but not really.”

The supervising teacher let out a loud, exaggerated sigh, but the captain, Ben, looked unfazed.

“Pretty much,” he agreed. He tossed Percy a helmet. “Put that on. Can’t put each other’s eyes out.” After a bit of puzzling over it, Percy strapped on the helmet, and Ben tossed him a floppy sword-stick. “That’s called a foil. You attack by thrusting forward, and you can hit anywhere on the torso, but not the head or the limbs. With me so far?”

“I think so.”

“Then let’s go.”

Ben went easy on Percy at first, which he quickly regretted, because the weightless sword was easy to use and parrying with a foil wasn’t so different from parrying with a sword. Percy poked his hand hard, making him drop the foil, then poked his chest.

“Ow!” Ben leaned down to pick up his foil.

“Foul,” one of the other boys piped up. Percy winced, scratching the back of his head.

“That’s on me,” Ben said ruefully, studying Percy with curiosity. “I was going to explain the penalties while you were getting used to the foil, but I guess that didn’t take long. You sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Big B, dude, do you watch the news at all?” another boy demanded.

“Do you?” Ben countered.

“I do when there’s aliens!” he said. “I wondered why you weren’t more excited. B, Percy’s like, Superhero Junior. He fights with a sword! A real one! I almost went feral when he signed up.”

Percy winced, embarrassment swelling as all eyes went to him. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he said, avoiding Ben’s eyes. “I thought it looked fun. I guess I should’ve looked up the rules and stuff before I came.”

“That’s fine,” Ben reassured him, still looking kind of thrown. “We teach you the rules and stuff here. I just wasn’t expecting to get disarmed by the new guy.”

Ben was a senior, eighteen years old. For a moment, Luke’s face flashed behind Percy’s eyes, the moment Percy had disarmed him in that first match. He shook the memory off with a shiver. “Sorry.”

“Isn’t that kind of unfair?” the last boy asked skeptically. “If you’re good at this because of superpowers?”

“I don’t have a power that makes me good with a sword,” Percy protested, hurt. “I have a lot of practice, is all. That’s not cheating.”

“Don’t question a good thing, Jules,” the second boy chided. “We’re gonna kick ass at the next competition.”

“By cheating? We’re gonna get disqualified!”

“I’m not cheating!” Percy snapped.

“Mr. T!”

Mr. T sighed again. “What a pain,” he muttered. Percy’s heart sank. “I’ll talk it over with the principal. We can probably keep him on, he just won’t be able to compete with other schools.”

“Aww!” two of the other boys complained, while Percy bristled.

“That’s not fair!” he argued. “I haven’t done anything!”

Mr. T grunted. “School district’s stance has been pretty clear so far,” he said. “Metahumans can’t use their abilities in competition. Tough luck, kid. Take it up with the state.”

“I think we will.”

Suddenly, Annabeth was there, twirling her Yankees cap idly in her hands. She bumped Percy in greeting without taking her eyes off Mr. T.

“If you find a prodigy in any other sport, you beg them to join the team,” Annabeth said, her glare unwavering. “What makes this any different?”

“He’s not a prodigy,” Mr. T scoffed, leaning back on the bleachers. “He’s a mutant. It’s not fair on the normal kids.”

“He’s a demigod with more talent in his left hand than you have in your whole body,” Annabeth snapped. The rest of the team watched the argument with fascination, while Percy just crossed his arms tightly, uncomfortable and angry. “I looked into it when Percy said he was interested. Fencing is a skill-based sport. Advantages in strength, stamina, and constitution mean next to nothing, and skill with weaponry isn’t one of Poseidon’s domains. The only advantage Percy has is the fact that he’s the best swordsman in centuries, and that’s all Percy.”

Gods, Percy loved Annabeth. He held his breath. Mr. T grimaced.

“...I’ll talk to the principal,” he said at last, sounding a lot less dismissive. “We’ll see if we can prove he isn’t using any powers for it. Not my problem, thank God.”

Annabeth exhaled, gave him a stiff nod, and turned to Percy.

“You should ask Matt and Foggy to help advocate for you,” she warned him. “This probably won’t be the last we hear of it.”

Percy wanted to kiss her, so he did. “Thanks,” he murmured. Annabeth turned pink.

“Go back to learning fencing,” she ordered him, stepping away. “I just wanted to watch.”

One of the boys wolf-whistled. Annabeth rolled her eyes, but her blush deepened.

Percy looked at Ben, anxious about how they’d receive the argument that had just been hashed out. But Ben looked cheerful, even excited, eyes bright with interest.

“I wish I knew what that stuff meant,” Ben said, “because it sounded really cool.”

You live your truth.

Percy debated with himself for a moment, and then offered, “You can finish showing me the ropes, and we can hang out after?” He glanced at Annabeth, who just shrugged and nodded.

Two of the boys fist-pumped. Ben only barely didn’t follow.

“Awesome!” he said with a grin. “Where were we? Penalties!”

After that, the rules were pretty easy to pick up. Percy gave up on attacking for a while and just played keep-away while Ben explained, getting used to moving forward and back instead of side to side. Like every sword not forged in water, the foil felt off in Percy’s hand, but with such low stakes Percy didn’t mind.

The other three players were Jules, Mason, and Zeke. After a while, Ben switched places with Jules, the rules guy, and Percy sparred with him so Mason could show Ben some of the videos he’d missed.

Jules called a halt about half an hour before practice was scheduled to end, shaking his head.

“Your reflexes are insane,” he told Percy, “but we’re gonna have our work cut out for us getting you to follow the rules.”

Percy winced. “Sorry,” he said. “Rules aren’t really my strong suit.” Annabeth snorted.

“No big deal,” Jules said. “Fencing is a really formalized sport, is all. You’re gonna be amazing at it once you understand how it works better. Even if you can’t compete, practice will be a hell of a lot more interesting from now on.”

Yeah, that idea was still pretty disappointing. “Want to hang out at the park? You guys were curious about some stuff, right?”

All of them lit up, and Percy smiled a little.

There was an elementary school not far from Midtown, and it had gotten out a while ago, so the playground was mostly empty when they got there. Another group of kids was out in the field, but a glance told Percy they were out of earshot.

Percy and Annabeth perched on the monkey bars, Jules and Mason sat on two of the swings, Ben plopped on the edge of the play structure, and Zeke took the end of the slide. Percy braced himself. Despite his decision, he was still nervous; would explaining things clear the air, or would it drive a wall between him and his new friends? Was he being open and honest, or would this mark him forever as different and strange?

“Were you two really there when everyone got knocked out last month?” Ben asked as soon as Percy shared a look with Annabeth and gestured to invite questions. It was clear he’d been barely holding it back.

“Why don’t you know anything about anything except fencing?” Zeke demanded.

“I hear about everything important sooner or later,” Ben shrugged. “If it really matters, people talk about it.”

“We were there,” Annabeth answered for both of them, meeting Ben’s eyes. “Under the circumstances, we didn’t have much choice.”

“Wow,” Denny murmured.

“What’s a demigod?” Zeke wanted to know. “People call Thor that all the time. Are you like him?”

Annabeth shook her head. “Thor is a demigod in the sense that he’s young, by god standards, and his power is still growing,” she said. “But he’s really a full-blooded god. Percy and I are the children of gods. We live and die like mortals, but our parents’ power flows through us.”

“That’s so cool,” Zeke said earnestly. Annabeth rolled her eyes. Percy nudged her.

“You know he’s right.”

Annabeth elbowed him back, but her smile gave her away.

“Can I see your sword?” Ben asked. Percy hesitated, playing with his pen, and then gave in. He uncapped Riptide and held it out, and Ben took it, running his fingers reverently down the blade. “Wow. This is so much cooler than a foil.”

Startled, Percy had to laugh. “I owe my life to that blade,” he said fondly. He held his hand out, and Ben surrendered it. The other three stared enviously, but didn’t ask to see it. “Swordplay is one of the only things I really have a talent for, so I figured fencing was a sport I could actually be good at.”

“You have plenty of talents,” Annabeth scolded him, making him flush.

“Is it, like, a tradition thing?” Jules asked. “You practice swordplay because it’s in your blood?”

Percy blinked, furrowing his brow in confusion. “Uh, not really?” He considered. “I mean, maybe a little. But mostly we do swordplay and wrestling and stuff so that we don’t get eaten by monsters.”

“...Is that a possibility?”

“More like a probability,” Annabeth said. She pulled out her knife and twirled it in her fingers, more for show than anything; Percy knew the look. Jules looked horrified.

“It’s not a big deal,” Percy tried to reassure them. “Monsters don’t go for mortals, like, ever. Demigods just smell like food or something, so we have to watch our backs. If you survive your first couple years of adolescence, your odds get a lot better.”

“If?”

Percy looked at Annabeth, silently pleading for help. Annabeth rolled her eyes.

“Most demigods train their whole lives just to have a chance at surviving to adulthood,” she said bluntly. Percy should not have looked to her to reassure them. “That’s why we go to camp, why we carry weapons- it’s even why we came out to the mortal world. Living among mortals is a lot harder when you have to lie every time you get attacked by a monster, and it’s even worse when you’re too young to defend yourself. Being open changes the game.”

“That... makes sense, I guess,” Ben said awkwardly. It was clear from his expression that he didn’t know where to go from here, so Percy tried to steer the conversation away.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he said. “Annabeth and I are both pretty experienced at this point. I’m just trying to like, go to school and graduate and stuff, and I thought it’d be fun to join the fencing team.”

Ben hesitated, considering him, and then said, “Want to come over to my house this Saturday? We were gonna celebrate getting a new member on the team.”

That went about as well as Percy could’ve hoped for. He grinned. “Yeah! That sounds great.”

Chapter Text

Sally knocked on his door for the third time at about two o’clock.

“Percy?” she called out, worry buzzing underneath her words. “Are you ready to come out? Foggy brought in some take-out, but I can bring you yours if you’d like.”

“Yes please. Can... can you bring your computer too?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

Reluctantly, Percy pushed himself upright as Sally stepped away. Hiding in his bedroom was quickly wearing on him, between the boredom and the restlessness, but at the same time, he couldn’t bear the thought of facing anyone – not his friends, not Foggy, not even really his mom.

Sally murmured something to Foggy, who said something back, and a minute later she returned with her computer and a wrapped sub. She gave him the sub, sat beside him, and set up her laptop between them.

Percy ignored the sandwich. “How bad is it?” he asked. Sally exhaled shakily.

“Tasteless,” she said, with an uncharacteristic undertone of anger. “But mercifully short. I’m sorry, Percy, I never thought...” She stopped herself at Percy’s expression and let him pull the laptop toward him.

Foggy was a news guy. He followed everything, all the time, and talked about the highlights in the morning over breakfast. It was kind of fun, most of the time, and it kept Percy up to date on mortal news.

That morning, Percy had walked out of his room to find Foggy bone white, looking sick, and he’d looked at Percy and told him the news that had Percy locking himself into his room for the rest of the day. Another article had come out, one of dozens focusing on him in the wake of the Battle of Manhattan. An interview. Specifically, an interview with their old neighbor, Jack-from-down-the-hall, who had told a reporter way too much over quite a few rounds of free beer.

Percy focused, struggling to read the article, while Sally remained quiet. His stomach churned, worried about what Jack might have revealed that Percy really, really hadn’t wanted anyone to know about. One section caught his eye, and he stared at it hard.

Interviewer: So he was a temperamental child?

Jack: Just about the brattiest kid you could imagine. Stole food off our plates, broke furniture, threw tantrums, attention-seeking, sarcastic. Watching Gabe put him in his place was the highlight of my week.

Interviewer: What do you mean, put him in his place?

Jack: Well, he needed a firm hand, if you catch my drift.

Interviewer: I do.

[Jack laughs.]

Jack: Yeah, you get it. I always loved watching the little brat try to stand up after good old Gabe knocked him flat. I know it’s a dick move and all, but man, there hasn’t ever been a kid that deserved it more than that brat. You would’ve laughed too.

You would’ve laughed too.

Percy pushed the laptop away and flopped down, hiding his face in his arms. He felt nauseous again. “I’m not hungry. Go away."

Unfazed by the rude dismissal, Sally actually scooted closer and placed a comforting hand on his back. “This will pass,” she murmured. It was an old reassurance, something she’d used to help bring him through some of their darkest times, and even now it made Percy relax a little. “Natasha called. Tony is furious. He’s taking legal action against the reporter and the publisher. They’ll face consequences, pull the article.”

Percy’s stomach sank. “They read it.” Sally winced. Percy covered his head as if that would better hide him from the scrutiny of others. “Everyone probably read it. You read it.”

“Percy...”

“And everyone knows that I’d get too dizzy to stand up,” Percy continued, as if he hadn’t heard her. “And that I gave Gabe money to keep him from hitting me, and that I froze every time he raised a hand to me. I just let it happen.”

His voice wavered and cracked. Sally shifted to lay down beside him and hug him that way, one-armed but snug. He leaned into her, but couldn’t bring himself to relax.

“This will pass,” Sally repeated, soft but firm. Percy shut his eyes. “Think of how much you’ve done in the past few years. There are so many things that they can focus on that show them how amazing you are, how strong, how brave. They’ll forget about this. It’ll be lost in the noise.”

“You read it,” Percy said. “Some of my friends probably read it.”

Sally stiffened. “I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I didn’t realize it was so bad.”

“Would it have changed anything?” Percy asked without moving his head.

“I... I don’t know,” Sally confessed, hugging him a little closer. “I was so afraid that I would make a mistake that would cost you your life. Staying with Gabe... worked. It kept you alive.”

“Yeah,” Percy sighed. He let his arms down. “Can I skip school tomorrow?”

He’d asked that before, but this was the first time Sally had ever said yes.

As Sally had promised, the article got pulled within two days, and FRIDAY was sweeping the internet with a vengeance to make sure the full text couldn’t be found anywhere. It didn’t matter. Suddenly, facing the rest of the world was impossible. Humiliation bound Percy to the apartment.

Percy lasted about two days hiding in his room before restlessness forced him out, but he still refused to go outside. Probably out of guilt, Sally let him stay home and play video games in the living room. On the third day, Annabeth came by.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

“Fine and dandy,” Percy muttered. “Just hating myself.”

“I don’t understand why this is different,” she admitted, sitting beside him. “You’ve been so open about all of it.”

“You don’t understand,” he said, sharper than he’d meant to. “It just is, okay? It’s really, really different.” He huffed. “How did you even hear about this? The article’s down and stuff.”

“Silena,” Annabeth said. “She’s been following your charity stuff really closely. But she didn’t tell anyone except me.”

Percy paused the game, shut his eyes, and exhaled shakily. “It’s just so pointless,” he said. “It shouldn’t even matter anymore. Why did anyone feel like they needed to dig that stuff up? None of it had anything to do with what we did this summer. It’s irrelevant. It’s stupid. It’s not fair.”

For once, Annabeth didn’t have any answers for him.

Foggy came by, and Percy locked himself in his room again. Foggy sat outside his door and told him that Tony was suing the reporter and the publisher, and that he’d recommended his most vengeful lawyer friend, who’d been delighted to help. Foggy assured him that Marcy had the fangs of a saber-toothed shark, and Percy laughed.

In truth, Percy didn’t really know why he was reacting like this, like the physical abuse was some dirty secret compared to the emotional and financial stuff. If anything, more people understood that it was ‘real’ abuse, and probably no one would hold it against him. But that didn’t seem to make any difference. He couldn’t bring himself to go out there.

Six days after the article came out, Silena came by. Sally let her in, and she sat next to Percy and played Mario Kart with him for a while before she finally broke the silence.

“Clarisse wanted me to tell you,” Silena said, “that she let it happen too.”

Percy’s fingers twitched on his controller. “Clarisse?”

“Sorry,” Silena said. “She’s my best friend. I... didn’t really know how to process it without her.” Percy didn’t respond at first. “She didn’t want me to tell you anything other than that. But she gets it. Really.”

Percy took a slow, shaky breath. “She...” He didn’t know how to finish the thought.

“You two are super alike, you know,” Silena said quietly. “As soon as I told her about it, she understood right away why you didn’t talk about it. Before I did, even.”

“You’re talking again?”

“Clarisse is a good friend,” she said. “She always comes through when it counts. And I was... really emotional about this, when I read this.”

They played a few more rounds in silence.

“I’m just mad at myself, I guess,” Percy said at last. “For being such a pushover as a kid. I folded like a wet napkin. It was pathetic.” His breath hitched. “I’d do anything to keep him from hitting me. But he didn’t even hit that hard.”

“Clarisse doesn’t think you’re pathetic,” Silena told him. “She was furious that you’d been hurt like that. She said you’re the last person on Earth that deserves it, and she wants to feed the guy that gave the interview her dirty boots for watching it happen.”

Something about that- despite his best efforts, Percy teared up and had to hastily wipe it away. A lump grew in his throat, and he stared at Silena, wide-eyed. Silena gave him a bashful smile.

“Don’t tell Clarisse I told you that,” she added. “She’d be embarrassed.”

Percy smiled, despite the wetness on his cheeks. “As long as you don’t tell her I cried.”

“Promise.”

They played for a few more minutes before something occurred to him. “Hey. How did you know I was, you know...”

“Upset?” Silena said. “Annabeth told me. She was getting worried about how long you’ve been holed up, and she knew I’d understand better than she did.” Percy couldn’t hide his curiosity. “My stepmom. She... well, she didn’t hit me, but that’s about all I can say for her. She didn’t like that her husband had a daughter with the goddess of love.” The corners of her mouth tightened, turning down. “My dad loved her more than he loved me.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said. Silena nodded. “Did Aphrodite... I dunno, help? Since this is her thing?”

Uncharacteristically, Silena let out a bitter snort and shook her head. “No,” she said. “She doesn’t step in any more than any other godly parent does.” She hesitated, stopped playing, and rolled the joystick aimlessly instead without looking at Percy. “What we do at camp... I kind of set that up.”

“What do you do?” Percy asked. “I never noticed. Sorry.”

Silena shook her head. “Don’t be. It’s not much.” She was quiet for a minute. “When I got to camp... I was kind of jaded. I didn’t understand love, or partnership. I kind of thought it was a territory thing.” She shrugged. “So I was really withdrawn at first, and I especially didn’t talk to my siblings. One of my sisters noticed – Esperanza. And she kind of helped me settle in and understand what real love was like. Love between siblings, love between friends. She helped me so much.”

“That was really nice of her.”

Silena smiled sadly and nodded. “She went on a quest the year before Luke did,” she said. “She didn’t come back.” She twirled her hair in discomfort, and then pushed on. “Anyway. Mom’s gifts blur the lines a lot, but she really only has two kinds of children. She has children of love, and children of beauty. I was a child of beauty.”

Silena glanced up and met Percy’s eyes, and it didn’t take long to understand.

“Your dad was pretty,” he said. “He wasn’t good at love.”

Silena nodded. “So the Aphrodite cabin is split into kids from good families, and kids from bad ones. When I became head counselor, I just... sort of encouraged the more well-adjusted kids to help the abuse survivors feel safe at camp. And when they started reaching out to kids outside the Aphrodite cabin, I encouraged that too.”

“That’s amazing,” Percy said honestly. “At a place like camp? That’s... that’s what a lot of them probably needed most.”

“Yeah,” Silena said softly. And then, “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize it in you. I should have. In hindsight, it was really obvious.”

“It was?”

“Definitely,” she said. “It didn’t click until I read that first article, but Percy – you were really sensitive.” Percy made a face at her. “I’m not trying to be mean. Just... you thought that everyone was mocking you, all the time.” Percy bristled. “Sometimes they were! I know that. It’s just... you also got angry at a lot of really innocuous stuff. Like people offering to help you train, or asking if you knew something.”

Percy forced himself to relax and think back to that first year of camp. And honestly, now that he was thinking about it... “Huh. Sorry. I forgot I was so tense that year, I guess.”

“You’ve relaxed a lot since then,” Silena reassured him. “But that’s the stuff I look back on, and I wish that I’d wondered why you always thought people were making fun of you. I think you could’ve used someone who understood that you were anxious.”

He really could have. For some reason, the thought made him smile. “Yeah,” he said. “But that’s okay. Like you said, I’m doing pretty well now. So it turned out fine.”

Silena smiled, too. “Yeah.”

“I’m not gonna talk about that stuff in public anymore,” Percy told his mom.

As Sally had promised, the article Foggy had stumbled across hadn’t made an impact on the public conversation. Tony had gotten it down before it spread, and most media companies were more interested in the Greek gods and the battle for Olympus than in Percy’s personal history. Still, both of them agreed that they needed to talk about how they were going to approach the Blue Food Project from now on.

“I don’t want to pull out or anything,” he continued, “and I’m okay with it if you wanna keep talking about everything that happened. But I don’t want that to be what people know me for.”

“I understand,” Sally reassured him, squeezing his hand. “Do you want to be a more passive presence from now on? There are plenty of ways you can help without getting in front of people.”

Percy shook his head. “I was thinking I’d work with Rachel on the demigod part of it,” he said. They’d decided to work with Annabeth and Tony’s project, the New Greek Testament, trying to build a system for demigods trapped by their heritage. “That’s important to me, you know? And it puts that jerk where he belongs. He’s like, a side note. Background information.”

Sally traced a picture on his knee without looking, concerned eyes focused on his. “Where was he before?”

Percy thought about it, because he hadn’t put it into words yet. He’d been focused on the relief and closure that he’d gotten from confronting the issue at all.

While Percy was always there, the Blue Food Project was really Sally’s creation, and Sally was the symbolic head of it. It drew its power from her compassion, her love, and her strength. When Percy talked about the things Gabe had done, it was to highlight how his mom had helped and supported him.

“He was a villain,” Percy decided, “and you were my hero. And that’s still true and stuff. But I don’t want to be that little kid anymore. I want to move on.”

Sally smiled at him. “You have,” she said quietly. “You’re the hero now.”

All things considered, it was a pretty painless transition. Percy kept baking with his mom and promised to help set up for everything, but he turned his attention to planning the ‘coming-out’ expo that Katie had suggested. He, Annabeth, and Rachel picked a venue, designed a floor plan and a schedule, and sent out the information to interested parties. It was fun, and the work gave Percy the same feeling of warmth, pride, and excitement.

That Saturday, Natasha came to get him as usual, and Percy hesitated.

“Um, how much did you hear about...” He trailed off, stomach twisting again for the first time in a few days. Natasha looked unsurprised.

“I read the article,” she said. “It wasn’t anything my training didn’t tell me, if that helps.” It actually kind of did. “Sam and Tony saw it as well, but Sam discouraged anyone else from looking. Said it was an invasion of your privacy.”

“It was,” Percy muttered. Satisfied, he waved to Sally and followed Natasha out. “It doesn’t change anything... right?”

“No,” Natasha said. “The details are new, but not important to who you are as a hero. We knew enough.” She glanced back. “But if you want to talk about it with an adult... Bruce knows what it’s like. He has a pretty extensive history himself.”

“I’ll... think about it.” The information came as a surprise, but on second thought, Percy decided that it shouldn’t have. Bruce’s withdrawn demeanor and self-deprecation made it easy to believe.

“Did you talk about firearms training with your mother?” Natasha asked him.

The change of subject was a relief. “Yeah. She actually thinks it’s a really good idea. I still kind of want to do the hand-to-hand stuff first though. It seems more, uh. Handy.”

Natasha nodded. “For you, certainly,” she agreed. “Firearms training could save your life in a pinch, but hand-to-hand will probably come up more often. You’ll want both, but Bucky won’t be offended if you favor this.”

They moved on, and Percy put the week’s turmoil behind him. It was only a few days to the Expo, and he had a lot to do. And some schoolwork to catch up on.

Chapter Text

The really impressive thing, Percy thought, was that Katie’s parents stood out even in a room full of demigods. Her mother was holding her hand and rambling tearfully, while Katie was looking increasingly flustered and overwhelmed, her other hand pressed self-consciously against her new scarring. Percy cut through the crowd to come rescue her.

“-terrified for all of you,” her mother said. “Seeing you in that tunnel, I, I thought for certain that we would see you all die. That sword was much too big for you, a-and all those times you dragged other children away from monsters... you were almost mauled... oh, Lord, have mercy...”

Katie caught Percy’s eye and gave him a pleading look, and he waved reassuringly and came to a halt beside him.

“Hey,” he said. “You must be Katie’s parents. Mr. and Mrs. Gardner, right?”

Her father drew himself up. He looked very Amish. “And you must be Perseus Jackson. You brought our daughter – all of these children – into this.”

Percy’s smile faltered.

“Hey, leave Percy alone,” Katie snapped. “He’s younger than me, actually, he’s just the best leader our camp has ever had. None of this was his fault.”

Percy was startled by the ardent defense, and he gave her a sheepish, grateful smile before he returned his attention to the older Gardners and the problem at hand.

“I get why you’re upset,” he said to them, “and honestly, it was really hard on all of us. It shouldn’t have happened. A lot of things went wrong.” He rocked on his heels, considering them, and then continued, “We’re working to fix things up so nothing like that ever happens again. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Neither of them looked entirely reassured, which was understandable. “Demeter promised me that camp was safe,” Katie’s dad snapped, with years of stress in his voice.

“Camp is safe,” Percy said. “Safer than anywhere else. Ask Katie. She’s been a counselor there for years now. She’s one of our best campers. That’s why she was in the thick of things – she takes care of her siblings. And she did an amazing job.”

Katie’s father looked at her, traces of uncertainty peeking through his anger, and Katie looked relieved.

“Camp Half-Blood is important to me,” she said quietly. “It’s been my home for almost a decade now, and the campers are my family. I’ve missed you guys, a lot, but I could never leave them. Not for fear, not for anything.”

Her parents looked at each other, and then her mother visibly made a decision and said, “Tell us about them.”

Percy relaxed, and moved on to leave them to it.

The expo was going well; Percy was really impressed at what everyone had pulled out for it. The Athena cabin had taken on the responsibility of making a what’s-what exhibit explaining the Greek world, all of the gods and their domains and how everything worked, and several of them were standing by to answer questions. The Hermes cabin had decided to have fun with it, and they were conducting some improv games at their makeshift station. The Hephaestus cabin had an impressive display of both toys and tools, with a few weapons thrown in when one of them was too proud to resist. The Aphrodite cabin had split between a makeover booth and helping Sally at her table, explaining the integration with the Blue Food Project.

They had the sports stuff they’d talked about too – they’d settled on wrestling, footracing, and rock climbing, since they were such staples at camp. Percy wished he could join in, but he'd already promised himself that he’d concentrate on helping out anyone that looked too confused on the floor. Clarisse looked like she was having a blast though. Grover was supervising the climbing wall, calling out encouragements to the mortal kids less used to the activity.

“Excuse me.”

Percy looked over his shoulder, then turned around to face the mortal woman who had addressed him. She looked nervous, one hand clenching and unclenching, and the other holding onto a young child – a son of Hermes, Percy realized instantly. She saw the recognition in his eyes and lowered her head.

“You’re the leader of the half-blood camp, right?” she asked.

“Um, no, but I am hanging around to answer questions and stuff,” he said. “What is it?”

“When do the monsters come?”

Percy looked at the kid. He looked around seven years old, annoyed to be shackled to his mother’s hand, and he met Percy’s eyes fearlessly. Instead of answering the mother directly, Percy dropped to one knee in front of him and smiled.

“Hey, my name’s Percy. What’s yours?”

“Kenny,” the kid said, wrinkling his nose at him. “I saw you on TV.”

Percy smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, it’s been a crazy couple months. How much do you know about why you’re here?”

Kenny shrugged. “It’s about my dad,” he said, scuffing the ground in discomfort. “He’s a god or something. A lazy one, I guess, since he’s a deadbeat and all.” The mother made a horrified sound, but Percy just laughed. Kenny grinned at him briefly.

“You look like a child of Hermes to me,” Percy said. “Hey, have you been seeing anything weird at school? Teachers that creep you out, or monsters sniffing around?” Kenny shook his head, and Percy finally looked back up at the mother. “He’s in the clear for now, but now that he knows, I don’t know how long that’ll last. I’ll call Tony and ask how that first safe zone is going.”

Kenny’s eyes widened. “Tony Stark?”

Percy grinned at him. “Yeah. He’s helping set up the new sanctuaries.” Still working on a catchy name for them though. “I know some other kids that might be interested too, so hopefully we can work something out.”

The mother shifted. “I don’t know how comfortable I am with uprooting our entire lives on a whim,” she said haltingly. Percy looked at her.

“Um, what do I call you?” he asked awkwardly.

“Anna is fine.”

“I get that it’s a lot to deal with, Anna,” he said, as gently as he could. “And I don’t want to scare you or anything. But a lot of kids... they never reach camp. The monsters catch up to them, and then it’s too late. My mom and I live pretty close and I almost didn’t make it my first time.” He shrugged. “He’ll be safe at camp, and he’ll be safe in that community, but anywhere else... I can’t make any promises.”

Anna still looked conflicted. “Won’t his father protect him?”

Percy met her eyes, trying to make sure she understood how serious he was.

“No,” he said. “He won’t.”

Anna’s expression shadowed, but she seemed to accept that without further protest. “Would we be able to contact the people we know now? Friends, family?”

“Absolutely,” Percy assured her. “The sanctuary is just so he can grow up without worrying about monsters. It’s not secret or anything.” He hesitated, and then added, more reluctantly, “It’s hard to say now exactly how important this is for him, because it depends on how much power he has. More powerful demigods attract more monsters, sooner. A son of Hermes could go either way.”

He wanted to put his foot down and demand she agree; there were too many dangers out there for a young half-blood. But, ultimately, it wasn’t his choice to make. You could offer someone safety, but you couldn’t force them to take it.

Anna looked down at Kenny, who looked much more uneasy now; he was shifting on his heels and twisting his free hand in his sleeve.

“You know what,” Percy said, when the silence stretched on. “How about I make the call, and you can think about it.”

Anna nodded distractedly without looking away from Kenny, and Percy slipped away to a back room to borrow his mom’s cell and call Tony.

“What’s up, Wind-and-Waves? Everything alright over there?”

“Yeah, everything’s going great,” Percy assured him, stuffing his hand in his pocket and bouncing in place. “But, uh, I kinda wanted to ask how the first safe haven was going.”

“It’s still pretty early in development. We’ve carved out a couple of neighborhoods, but we’re still negotiating with the current residents and working on a permanent security team to station there. Why?”

“A mom brought her son here,” Percy explained. “A Hermes kid, from the looks of him. And, um, I don’t love the idea of sending them back out there. You know? So I was kind of hoping we could figure something out.”

Tony was quiet for a minute.

“Yeah, alright,” he said at last. All at once, his casual tone was gone, slipping off into intensity. “You’ve got a point. I’ll have FRIDAY put out an emergency call for the bare essentials staff we’d need there and talk to Rhodey about his team. We can put them up at the Avengers compound for now, maybe put out a first call for any families that feel like the water is getting too hot. You know?” Percy did know. “Any idea how much trouble the Hermes kid is in?”

“He’s alright for now,” Percy said. “I asked him and he hasn’t been seeing monsters or anything. But now that he knows, it’s only a matter of time.”

“The best and most convenient part of introducing new demigods to our world. Let them know about the offer, alright? I’ll call you back when I know more.”

“Thanks. But, uh, what were you saying about current residents?” It bugged Percy to think that mortals were being shooed out of their homes for this.

“Just sorting out the different reactions,” Tony said. “Some of ‘em don’t want to live in a demigod community, so we’re helping them find a new place. Some of them are fine with it, they’re staying, and then some property owners I had to buy from. No big deal, it just takes time.”

“I didn’t think about mortals staying in those neighborhoods,” Percy admitted. “That must be weird for them.”

Tony laughed. “It’ll be good for the kids. Being cut off from the mortal world so young isn’t good for us.”

“When did you start going to camp?”

“Oh, early. Eight years old. But I left early too.”

“To go to MIT.” Right, Percy sort of remembered hearing about that. “Alright, I’ll let them know. Um, Anna, the mom, isn’t too sure about leaving their home, so I don’t know if she’ll actually take you up on it.”

Tony sighed. “Seems safe out there until it isn’t,” he said wryly. “Talk to you later, squirt.”

As Percy was explaining the situation to Anna, it occurred to him that there was someone else who might be interested in taking advantage of the new safe haven. So, as soon as he was done, he headed to a nook by one of the staircases.

The surviving demigods from Kronos’ side had returned to camp after the funeral pyre, but their situation was still sort of... awkward, and they stuck together much more than they hung out with the loyal campers. That held doubly true for those that had been closer to Kronos’ inner circle, like Ethan.

Those demigods had come to support the new project, but they hadn’t had the heart to participate, and Percy couldn’t blame them. He sat down nearby and ignored their guarded looks, trying to seem relaxed.

Six of them had never even attempted to reintegrate into camp: Ethan, James, Koko, Jerrin, Val, and Q. Three children of minor gods, two of Hermes, and a daughter of Ares. The Hermes kids, Koko and Q, had followed Luke so directly that they’d been gone by the time Percy returned to camp for his second summer, and he hadn’t learned their names until they returned.

“Hey,” he said. “I thought you’d wanna know that the first safe haven should be opening up soon. I know you’ve been wanting a safe place outside of camp.” Somewhere not controlled by the gods, Matt had relayed, and honestly, Percy got that.

Sure enough, he immediately had their interest. Ethan sat up and met his eyes, sharp and suspicious as always. “The government one?” he asked. “You were serious about that?”

Percy shrugged. “Yeah. Why would I lie? I mean, they’re being set up for families with demigods too young to go to camp, but there’s no reason you can’t take advantage of it too.”

James, a son of Eos, scoffed at him. “Why would a kid too young for camp need a place like that?”

Val, the daughter of Ares, cuffed him over the head. “Idiot,” she snapped. “Do you use your brain? Powerful demigods get attacked younger. No one knows that better than Percy fucking Jackson.”

Percy shifted. Most of the returned demigods seemed to have mixed feelings about him now, their animosity poorly tempered by the shock and hope that came from his demands to the gods. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, himself, but he was grateful that they seemed to be giving him a chance.

Ethan hadn’t looked away from him. “Would they even let us in?” After what we did, he meant.

“Yes,” Percy said without hesitation. “Because it’s got nothing to do with the gods, and everything to do with protecting kids from being hunted. And to the mortal government, that’s all you are, is kids.” As far as Percy knew. “You don’t have to take it. You’re still welcome at camp, and you always will be. But if you want it, I can keep you posted on when it’s ready for people to move in.”

“We’re not welcome at camp,” Q said quietly.

“You are,” Percy said, fierce and forceful. “I know it’s not easy right now, but as far as I’m concerned, Camp Half-Blood is supposed to be a safe place for all of us, and I’m not gonna let that be conditional. You can’t earn or lose your place there. But... I know you don’t really like it.” A gross understatement, but one he didn’t feel the need to correct.

Ethan stared at him, and then said, “We’ll talk it over with the others. I’m sure plenty of them will be relieved. But... some of them will want to stick it out. Try camp again, with how things are supposed to be now.”

Percy smiled at him. “Whatever they want,” he said firmly. “I’ll support them.”

By the time the expo ended, and it was time to pack up and send the crowd back out, Percy was burnt out but satisfied. He circled back around to help his mom again, putting away flyers and leftover baked treats. They worked quietly, and after a while, Foggy joined them and helped out too.

“Happy with how today went?” Sally asked at last. Percy ran through the day in his head and smiled.

“Yeah,” he said. “Some of the parents were upset – the ones who saw their kids in the security tapes and stuff. But it looks like the ones that weren’t welcome didn’t come anyway.” Connor and Travis’ mother had not made an appearance, and neither had Clarisse’s. Silena had spoken with her father outside and re-entered without him, and both of them had spent the evening with Beckendorf’s parents. “And the public was mostly just interested. Some of them were kind of skeptical, but honestly, the Athena cabin loved those guys.”

Sally laughed quietly, and Foggy snorted. “Not the people I would’ve chosen to debate with.”

Percy smiled. “Well, they would’ve had to read the board to know what a bad idea that was. And then they would’ve had to believe it.”

He was moving slowly, feeling spacy after the day’s activity, and he wasn’t surprised when Sally paused to shoo him away. “Go take a nap, sweetheart. There are plenty of places to stretch out.”

Percy didn’t argue. Eating more had helped, loosely following the guidelines Tony had sent over, but he was still tired more often than usual. He found a bench to stretch out on and fell asleep in minutes, and when Foggy patted him awake, all the packing-up had been done and the room was dark.

“Ready to go home?” Foggy asked. Percy yawned.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”