Chapter Text
Percy had been shoving a small suitcase into the back of his mom and Paul’s Prius when the portal opened above Stark Tower. He had hoped—perhaps a little wishfully—that a portal of that size could be ignored. The notion was quickly proven wrong when a giant creature came out of the portal and started demolishing the surrounding area.
“Oh gods,” Percy groaned. “Can we go a year without something trying to destroy everything?”
Almost as if on queue, the crowds of people who had originally been staring dumbfounded started screaming and running in the opposite direction. In the distance, the creature dove behind some buildings, a glowing blob following close behind.
“What’s going on?” Sally asked from behind Percy.
Percy shook his head. “It’s probably not something from camp,” he attempted to reassure them, even if the fact that the chaos around them wasn’t related to the mythological world scared him more than anything. He didn’t know anything about the humanoid figures that had flown onto the streets in chariots and started picking people off. He couldn’t use any of his questing knowledge to battle them. All he could do was run and try to protect his family.
“Don’t go back inside,” Percy warned. The big armored fish-thing (Percy prayed that it wasn't actually a fish) could just take down the building. Quickly, he scanned the area. Running could get them trampled and driving just wouldn’t work in the newly crowded streets. Percy eyed the nearest alleyway. “We need to get out of the open.”
His mom and Paul nodded as they ducked into the alley. “Shouldn’t we get away from the uh- thing?” Paul asked.
“Stragglers are getting picked off,” Percy pointed out. “We don’t want to be in that crowd. We’ll have to wait a minute.”
They hid behind a dumpster like sitting ducks. If anything caught sight of them, they were probably dead.
The sounds of fighting drew closer as they waited. Clashes and clangs and what Percy assumed to be the sounds of Iron Man blasting the invaders were the only sign that this nightmare could end soon.
“It’s some kind of invasion,” Paul noted. “Could either of you figure out what they are?”
“Not really. They have the fish-worm thing and some human fighters,” Percy relayed. “Or they just looked human.”
“And they’re not really picky with who they kill,” Sally added. She grimaced. This was the second attack on New York in the past year. Even though the majority of the city had been asleep for the Battle of Manhattan, it didn’t escape the rest of the mortal world’s notice. The “Three Days’ Silence”, as it had been dubbed by the media, seemed to hang over the city at times. No one knew what happened unless they were a part of the mythological world.
A noise caught Percy’s attention. In the opening of the alley, a bulky frame hunched against the wall, its head hung. Percy could see the faint glint of the sun off of its armor and the glow on its arm. Not friendly then.
Paul, Sally, and Percy held their breaths. The figure, unaware of the tension, looked up. It jumped when it saw them, and shot in their direction.
Out of instinct, Percy pulled his family out of the way and shot to his feet, Riptide in hand. When the next blast fired, he blocked it with the sword. He continued to block rounds until he reached the figure.
It was definitely not a human. The figure had scaly, purple skin, two yellow eyes, and way too many pointed teeth. Percy scrunched his nose. “Hey, Ugly!” he called, slashing at his opponent in the arm with Riptide.
The figure stumbled back, clutching its arm. Riptide had hit it. The figure was bleeding. Percy stared in shock before coming to his senses after Ugly pointed his arm-gun at him again. He knocked the gun to the side before stabbing Ugly in the stomach—hopefully killing it.
Riptide dripped with purple blood. The body didn’t disappear. Percy didn’t hang around to look at it, jogging back to his mother and Paul
“Is…that normal?” Paul asked.
“Celestial bronze doesn’t hurt mortals,” Sally reminded him. “I guess those don’t count as ‘mortals’.”
“They’re not something I’ve fought before,” Percy said, “and the body didn’t disappear. That means that they’re not monsters either.”
A loud crash came from somewhere out of the alley. Someone else was fighting this battle for them, but with how many flying chariots had come out of the portal, they would be overrun.
“Whatever they are, I can kill them. I know how to fight,” Percy decided. “Whoever’s fighting against them right now is going to want all the help they can get.”
Sally sucked in her bottom lip. “Are you sure?”
Percy gave her a sad smile. “I’ll make sure to come home safe,” he said. “I promise.”
Reluctantly, his mother nodded, and Percy dashed out of the alley. As he passed the Prius, Percy got an idea. Most people wouldn’t take a teenager seriously, leading to people trying to undermine him and getting killed as a result. He also didn’t like the idea of getting his face shown on the news again.
It was easy to snatch his mother’s sunglasses out of their car, mentally promising to get her a new pair after this whole mess was over. They concealed his eyes pretty well, and with his hoodie covering most of his hair, it was an okay disguise.
He sprinted across a couple of blocks before he saw any sign of pushback. The police had set up a blockade of cars to hide behind as they shot at the invaders. Their attempts were mostly futile, with one or two of the invaders going down as they were shot. Percy ducked behind one of the cars, asking, “Who’s fighting the main battle?”
The officer closest to him furrowed her eyebrows when she caught sight of him. “Sir, you need to get away from this mess. We’ve got it handled.”
Percy raised an eyebrow. “Your shots are barely landing.”
“And what are you going to do with a baseball bat?” the officer asked. “Please, get to safety.”
Damnit. The Mist never does me any favors.
Up ahead, Percy could see one of the flying chariots firing shots at a man with a shield. The man (who was clad in red, white, and blue armor) was running in their direction, bringing the chariot with him.
“Shit,” Percy cursed. Not only was the chariot coming straight for them, but the other figures never stopped their advances. If they didn’t come up with a better plan than “Fire and Pray” (praying never seemed to work for him anyway), they were going to look more like swiss cheese than people.
However, a redhead behind a car in front of them seemed to have better aim than the officers as she shot at the chariot and took it down. Her aim also allowed her to shoot several of the invaders.
A blond had taken charge of evacuating people from stalled vehicles. The arrows and bow strapped to his back suggested that he was an archer, of what skill Percy didn’t know.
To their credit, the officers held their ground, but they weren’t doing much to help. “You’re seriously thinking about fighting in this? Go home, kid,” the officer told him irritatedly.
Before Percy could respond with a snarky, “Go home? To the soon-to-be collapsed building?”, the armored man from earlier landed on top of one of the police cars, distracting most of the officers. Slipping in front of the police cruisers, Percy ran up to the red haired woman and archer.
“What’s the situation?” he asked the pair. They were a little too calm about most of the situation to be completely clueless.
The red head looked at him with a slightly pinched expression as she continued shooting at the invaders. “Getting civilians—like you—out of here.”
“I guess I should rephrase,” Percy said with a confident grin. She could try to move him, but then she’d be fighting a third party. He had a feeling she knew that. “What are we fighting?”
“There’s no we in this situation, kid,” the blond said. He stared at Riptide with a thinly veiled astonishment. Could he see through the Mist? “Get back.”
Percy, getting a little antsy (seriously, it would be so much easier to just let him help), left the cover of the car. Due to the amount of incoming invaders, it was hard for just a couple of people to hit them all, even if they were skilled. Taking advantage of that weakness, Percy attacked a cluster the pair had failed to hit, slashing through armor and skin. The purple blood splattered across his hoodie, and he tried not to react. He was used to dust, but the blood would probably stain. The bodies wouldn’t dissolve. Percy tried to ignore it, letting his brain move on autopilot as he took them down. When he had cleared out the section he ducked behind another car. The blond ran up to him soon after. Instead of the disapproval Percy expected to find on his face, he saw respect. “What’s your name, kid?” the blond asked.
Percy opened his mouth and shut it again. Right. He had a reason for covering his face. It wouldn’t do him any good to tell people his name. Quickly he tried to think of something, but, as usual, he said one of the first things that came to mind. “Per– Riptide,” he said, stumbling over the word. It wouldn’t have been too bad of a name had it not been the name of his sword as well.
The blond gave him an unimpressed look as he fired an arrow. “Okay then. Nice to meet ya, Riptide. Wish it could have been under better circumstances.”
Percy nodded. He’d thought he’d seen everything by this point, especially after last year, but apparently the world had more things for him to discover.
The blond continued. “I’m Clint, and the redhead behind me-” When did she get there? “-is Nat.”
Nat gave him a small nod; Percy gave her a thumbs up in return.
“And the purple guys?” Percy asked.
“Aliens,” Nat said. Of course it was aliens. Greek gods were real, why wouldn’t other supernatural things be real? Percy inwardly groaned at the situation.
The armored man from earlier ran up to the trio. “The police should have civilian evac covered,” he paused. “Who’s the kid?”
Percy stared at the man. He didn’t notice it earlier, but there was a shield in his hands. A very familiar looking shield. Percy stage whispered, “Is that fucking Captain America?”
“Steve, meet Riptide,” Nat introduced. “He insists on helping.”
Steve Rogers, a soldier who died in the 1940’s, Percy thought. Logically, he knew that this wasn’t the first time he saw someone displaced from time. Nico had come from the same time period, for gods’ sake! That didn’t mean it was normal for a mortal. Unless Captain America wasn’t mortal. He’d have to ask Annabeth about it later.
“A battlefield isn’t a place for kids, Natasha,” Captain America said. “He’s just going to get killed. All he has is a baseball bat!”
“It’s not a baseball bat,” Nat said. “It’s a sword that can look like a baseball bat. Show him, kid.”
Percy smiled. Finally, he was getting somewhere with these people. Without a second of hesitation, he jumped over the tipped over car and charged the aliens. Clint and Nat had kept up a line of fire while they’d been talking, but there were still some aliens left for him to show off.
The first one approached him, firing its gun as Percy ran at it. He deflected the blast, and kicked the alien. As the alien stumbled back, he brought his sword back around to the alien, slicing its torso. He continued like that, mixing his sword-fighting skills with hand-to-hand whenever Riptide didn’t make a clean cut. By the time he was finished, the others had made their way up behind him.
Clint smirked, turning to Captain America. “If it wasn’t obvious, the sword is magic.”
Captain America stared at Percy. “I can see that now.”
Percy grabbed Riptide from where he had last dropped it. “So,” he said, looking around the now alien-free area. “Where to now?”