Actions

Work Header

Percy Jackson and the Demigod Avenger

Chapter Text

It starts not simply – because nothing in Percy's life is simple any more – with a hammer smashing its way into the centre of the Camp, leaving a sizeable crater in the ground. Of course, this meant the Demeter Cabin immediately started in on the Hephaestus residents about how this was clearly another one of their little stunts to prove just how 'crafty' they were, and how the camp couldn't do without them. This was followed by accusations about how the Demeter kids only really cared about plants, and how they really needed to realise that the world wasn't only filled with the colour green – which, naturally, had the Satyrs bleating in angrily as well. Really, no one should have been surprised – and it was doubtful anyone was – that Percy just rolled his eyes and went to pick the damn thing up, hoping to get it out of the way.

They were allowed to be surprised at the mini hurricane that started up around him, though. That wasn't normal, even for Percy Jackson. Neither was suddenly appearing in slightly funky, kind of otherworldly looking armour, but the glint in Annabeth's eye had him convinced that that particular bit really wasn't a bad thing. From there, well, that's when things started to get really weird.

The hammer was a pretty cool thing, it sort of... sort of tingled in Percy's hand, creating a warmth that he hadn't ever felt before, and doubted he would again. It was pretty cool as a weapon as well, but he had to admit that he still felt more comfortable with Riptide in his hands. Besides which, he was pretty sure Riptide had never caused an almost war when he'd held it, with various cabins how the hammer should rightfully be theirs. Which is were events hit a little snag, though Percy had to admit the Hephaestus' cabin's argument was the strongest out of all he'd heard. (The Athena cabin wasn't participating; Annabeth was still too amused by the whole situation and besides which, she explained, it was fun seeing Percy squirm.) See, while all the arguments were going on, a big-ass blonde Viking type dude stormed into camp and demanded his hammer back.

Yeah, so that was an interesting day.

Turns out Chiron and Mr. D knew the big-ass blonde Viking guy, and he was a God, sort of. Big-ass blonde Viking guy – Thor was his name – said that Midgardians considered his people Gods, but that didn't mean they actually were and really, Percy switched off and stopped listening when he started to get into something called “the Tree of Life” because the hammer had started to glow. No, seriously, there was this eerie sort of blue-white glow and Percy was sure it was vibrating and damn, his mind could think up some weird jokes to explain that. He needed to spend less time hanging out with the Stoll brothers, he was going to end up slapped. But yeah, hammer was glowing and Thor caught on pretty quickly, walking over and holding out his hand. Percy got it; he had picked it up, the hammer had willingly went to him, Thor couldn't rip it out of his hand. He was just glad to give it back, even though he frowned – the warmth didn't disappear and apparently Thor had gotten it into his head that Percy was going with him.

“No, wait, what?” was about as much as he managed to get out before he was pulled up and out of camp. He hated flying, and was pretty glad to hear Blackjack's offended cry before the pegasus pulled up under him, letting him drop out of Thor's grip. Thor looked like he wasn't sure whether he should laugh at the sight, or be impressed by Percy's riding skills. Percy didn't really care either way, but Thor was a cool guy, and he was pretty easy to talk to for a God. Turns out there had been some fight like, centuries ago, and Thor had helped the Olympians out. So... that was a thing.

“You say your Father is Poseidon,” the God of Thunder – yeah, for some reason Percy kept thinking of him in terms of his title and he wasn't really sure why but suspected it was some kind of demigod survival instinct. (Of course, the fact that this instinct was notably lacking around Ares never came to Percy's mind). “He is a formidable warrior, and a good man,” Thor said, after what he felt was enough of a silence – it was hard for Percy to speak and fly 'cause insects kept getting into his mouth. “But I do not think he will like what has to happened.”

See, here's the thing. The hammer, Mew-something or other, Percy can't really remember, is really picky when it comes to demigods. It's meant to let itself be picked up by whoever is worthy of it which for mortals, Percy's told, has often been in the form of paramedics, police officers, fire-fighters. The type of people who go out and dangerous things for no real reward. Problem is, this pretty much sums up nearly all demigods so the hammer's gotten picky. It just usually doesn't accept demigods but, and Percy can feel the weight on that 'but' and he's getting sick of it being present in his life – it let Percy pick it up. This means that some action needs to be taken. Long story short, Percy's getting taken to learn to be Thor's apprentice.

He's going to be an Avenger.

Sort of.  

Chapter Text

Avengers Tower is big and Percy really wasn't aware of just how big it was. Though, he's pretty sure he should be allowed leeway on that detail, 'cause, y'know, he was preoccupied until pretty recently by the Second Titan War and becoming the Hero of Olympus and the looming prophecy over his head, and all of that good sort of stuff. Sure, he'd been in in bigger buildings – his father's palace was vast – but the Tower wasn't Godly built, and its still cooler than any other place he's been. And yeah, that detail is never getting revealed to any Godly relative – he might be a little slow on the uptake, but got to love that survival instinct. Thor has, like, a pass-code for the Tower and its only just hitting Percy what the hell he's gotten himself into. No one is going to believe him. Not even the kids at Camp.

Well, Nico might believe him. But Nico can summon a zombie army. Kid's still winning in the cool stakes.

Inside is ridiculously high-tech and Percy's starting to feel a bit out of his depth 'cause he still doesn't even have a mobile phone or an mp3 player and looking around at all this stuff is making him long for his Cabin with the handy fountain for easy Iris-Messaging. Then he remembers he didn't contact Tyson, and wonders if Chiron thought to IM his Mom, or if Annabeth called her because that's the type of thing that Annabeth would do and Thor's been talking at him for the past five minutes and he's heard exactly none of it. “...What?”

It's a good thing Thor's pretty easy going for a God, as he just laughs. Percy knows that if he'd said that to, like, Ares, he'd been in another fight with the guy again and really, how many times does he need to kick that guy's immortal ass before he gets the point that he's not going to 'bow to him' or however he puts it. “I asked how you were. I believe that this is a sight to behold, even I took a moment to admire when I first entered,” Thor waved a big hand round at the surprisingly clean Tower and Percy looks round.

“It's pretty cool, yeah.” Thor's look suggests that Percy should probably never just call it 'pretty cool' around whoever built it but then the guy lets out another one of those deeps laughs and he's pretty sure Thor thinks he's joking so whatever. He slaps Percy on the shoulder (Percy's glad of the whole Achilles' Curse thing, 'cause he's pretty sure he should have been sent flying from that) and directs them to a training room that would have Annabeth itching to practice in. It's big, and sleek, and there's a mounted display of the type of weapons he's seen in news reports and always wanted to know how they'd handle. “...Woah.”

Yeah. Now, he's impressed.

Sparring against Thor is a ride of another kind, and it's not really the sort of thing Percy could describe even if he was given the best damn dictionary ever. The guy uses the weather as a weapon and Percy's throwing waves back at him without even thinking about it and really it's a pretty good thing that this is happening at the Tower 'cause he's pretty sure there's no way he'd ever be able to afford damage payments. But the fight's intense in a good way, and it's actually a challenge for Percy so that means he's actually getting to try some stuff he couldn't against the Campers. Thor is treating him like an equal and that's one of the most awesome things in Percy's life, he thinks. That he gets stuff like that.

Thor uses weather in battle occasionally, and he's got to run and duck and weave to avoid the bolts of lightning that would probably make some nice BBQ Percy for whatever monster happened to be passing. It's the good type of adrenaline rush, and he can feel the familiar tingle that he always took as the start of the rush, and he moves forward, twisting and weaving and he wonders why he sucks when they're forced to do stuff like dancing or whatever in Gym 'cause a good sparring match is really some sort of elaborate dance isn't it? You got to be able to move with the partner, and match them and this is an unexpectedly deep thought when it looks like lightning's about to hit him dead on and he's got no time to move out of the way.

It's not a yell of pain when it hits, it doesn't really hurt. It's more like a really, really irritating itch that no matter how hard he scratches, he just can't rid of, and it makes him groan in frustration. But there's a surprising amount of smoke – Percy's starting to think it was pretty lower level to what Thor can usually dish out and it annoys him for a second – but the smoke gets into his throat, and he's coughing a lot because, dude, smoke. It's when he's on the ground near the floor – something Annabeth said about fresher air stuck in his head – that he can hear the panicked scream and curses and “...that's a kid, Goldilocks. Don't know what they do where you're from, but we don't use them as target practice!” An attractive red-head with really pointy black heels is helping him up, and she mutters concerns in his direction as she takes him out of the room and if he could stop coughing for five minutes he'd tell them that he's fine.

But yeah, that's pretty much how Percy met Pepper Potts for the first time.

Oh yeah, and Tony Stark.

Chapter Text

Pepper's – she said he could call her Pepper, Ms Potts made her seem older than she was comfortable with - the one ranting at Thor about health and safety and Percy's not really listening even though he probably should. She's not listening to him when he keeps pointing out he's fine, the smoke just got to him, and he's taken far worse hits before and turned out fine, so he figures not listening to her in return is pretty fair. Thor's a good guy, especially for a God, but he looks confused at Pepper's ranting. Percy gets it, sort of, and for some reason calling him 'kid' keeps irritating him and he can't work out why exactly. But then Stark's chipping in with some smart remark and – wait –

“Did you just call me Nemo? Like the fish?”

“Like the Captain.”

“...”

And now Stark's muttering something about lack of culture and Percy can't be bothered to tell him that reading's really still sort of a issue for him; even with the underground demigod made ancient Greek copies of all the really cool books. Pepper and Stark are talking over each other, and Thor's trying to make the point that he's 16, he's a warrior, they shouldn't baby him. What has happened to Midgard that they do not allow 16 year old lad to be the warriors they ought to and this argument is going around in circles and Percy's just tired of it already.

“Yeah, 'cause it's not like I haven't already saved the world from the Titans when you were off doing a photo shoot.”

He's always been impertinent. This time it just manages to shut them up long enough for Thor to look at them with a probably-been-worn-before pointed look. Point proven, but he could have done without the interested look from Stark, like he's some sort of experiment or new gadget to be explored or whatever. They start up again, Pepper this time more hesitant, Stark still with all the quips and the door's opening and it sort of reminds Percy of the old Star Trek series he used to watch with his Mom when he was suspended and in steps another big-ass blonde guy but he recognises this one. Big-ass blonde guy looks down at Percy, gets the gist of the conversation, then frowns.

“Has anyone called his Mom?”

And holy crap that's Captain America right in front of him. When he was a kid, Captain America was his favourite superhero. You know, before he actually learnt that the whole being a hero thing was kind of the short straw and that costumes just made an attacking monster mock you before eating you but still, it's Captain America. The guy was a legend; Chiron always made sure to include him in the lectures he would give about how being part-god didn't make you something special; you had to work towards it and prove yourself worthy or something like that. He tended to miss a lot of the lectures 'cause he was off doing the whole questing thing, but he got the gist of them. Eventually.

Captain America – Steve, he says his name's Steve and he's from Brooklyn way back when – is pretty much the living example of what people think of when they call a guy an All-American American. Percy thinks anyway, and it's pretty weird to be talking to the guy who's like, a living legend, and its pretty much the only one apart from Thor who is talking to him and not at him. And yes, he knows the difference between the two. Years of school councillors looking to shove him out of their office because they're fed up of repeating the conversation they've been having since term started has pretty much let him know the difference. Course, he's pretty good at the talking at people thing too, but that's not really the point here and Stark's arranging for a limo to go and pick up Mom and Paul cause they really need to be here to talk through the whole him being an apprentice to Thor thing.

Percy thinks this is bull, he's been questing since he was 12 and relatively untrained, actually getting training for a change is probably going to make his Mom relax, and probably just confuse Paul a little. He's a good guy and all, but he's still not entirely used to the whole my-stepson-is-a-demigod thing yet. There's no real mention of contacting his Dad, and he wonders if that's got to do with the whole deities not being fond of crossover thing Mr. D keeps hinting at on his more surly days. They should switch his coke for something with a lot of E numbers, Percy thinks, maybe a sugar high could replicate the drunken highs he used to get.

Okay so probably not, and Steve's still talking with him, asking about the Camp in a curious tone that is pretty much likely to be sincere 'cause Percy doubts this guy can really do devious or sneaky without putting a lot of work into it. He's too … decent. His eyes widen on hearing Percy was 12 to start, which makes Percy realise that, yeah, this guy is really that real deal, believer in the red, white and blue. It's cool, in a serious old time, go for national pride way. Steve's the one to go and fetch his Mom and Paul, and bring them to the meeting room. (Percy's being checked out for weapons before going in and it's taking a while to explain that no, the pen will always return to his pocket, there's really not anything he can do about it 'cause it was a gift from his Dad and no, he won't start randomly attacking and can he go now?)

Stark's got this way of randomly charming people that his Mom doesn't buy into, even if Paul does a little, but she falls for Steve's calm smile, and Thor enthusiastic praise of his fighting skills and Percy's thinking that if any of them were expecting her to say no, then they really misjudged his Mom. She gives her permission with a smile, and goes off with Pepper to sign the necessary forms 'cause even though age of consent in New York is 16, he's still not 18 so technically not an adult and it's better to cover themselves.

So, yeah, the whole becoming an Avenger (sort of) thing?

Looks like it's actually going to be happening.

Which is cool, he guesses.

Chapter Text

Percy was meant to meet the rest of the team after his Mom and Paul left; but then an alert was raised and the Avengers had to go off and be, y'know, heroes and they thought it'd be safer for him back at the Tower and he's pretty sure he could take most of them himself without getting tired but whatever. He watches the battle on the wide-screens they have in the mess hall area and he wonders if he's go to have a costume, because he's not so sure about the whole spandex thing. He really should ask Chiron about learning to manipulate the Mist, it'd come in handy for this type of thing and Percy's starting to wonder if, really, its covered in the orientation video and no one's thought to tell him.

If so, not cool. His police record's getting longer than he'd like.

The team work pretty well together, and Hulk totally dwarves the big-ass blonde guys hey have which gets a grin from Percy. He's gotten some popcorn from the kitchen, and it's fun to watch the battle. Even if he can see where they really should be keeping their eye on and wait, he's pretty sure he's already fought that monster before, huh, guess his reanimating time or whatever it is doesn't take as long as some. He puts the bowl of popcorn on the sofa when he goes to fetch a coke – sugar and caffeine is his true weakness – and really, coming back to see Loki sitting, watching the screens, eating his popcorn only makes him jump a little bit.

“Dude, you're eating my popcorn.” It's not exactly the wittiest comment he's managed but he thinks he should be allowed points for not hitting the security alarm – yeah, he got the Loki talk on the way in. Do not let he of the cow horns into the building. He'd be more interested if they didn't drone on and on and the guy's still eating Percy's damn popcorn. Seriously, he knew it was good stuff and all but it was his and he'd like to get eating some before Loki finished it all.

“You do not purchase the food for this building, Son of Poseidon.”

He holds the bowl out though, eyes still fixed to the screen and Percy sees the frown on the God's face as he sits back down and reclaims his delicious snack food that he should eat less of – see Mom, he totally listens when you get on at him about that. But it's weird. Yeah, he wasn't exactly listening to the Loki talk, but he got the heavy impression that this guy was all evil and would stop at nothing to destroy the Avengers and Percy's pretty sure he just heard him muttering that Thor needs to stop aiming so wide with Mew-whatever 'cause it gives his aim away. Not exactly the whole 'complete evil' image they were trying to put out.

He means, okay, he knows that the myths are pretty much just stories based on rumours based on an account of what someone heard from someone who got it from their cousin about what actually happened, but everything has some grounding in reality and Percy's just realised he has no clue about, what is it, Norse myth? If Wise Girl were here – and she's going to give him hell when she hears about this – she'd have a speech prepared, rolling off facts and figures and probably time and dates to go with it. This is true, and this is only half true, and this is completely stupid, what are you even doing thinking this has even a basis in truth, Seaweed Brains? He munches on some popcorn, and looks back at the screen. Actually, he's got to agree with Loki, Thor is throwing his aim too wide but that's a big-ass robot they're dealing with now – the monster's fallen back and Percy's kind of wondering how long he'll be in the Underworld this time – and Mew-whatever seems to be the only thing making a dent in it and Loki's really on edge.

“You want a coke or something?”

It's really not appropriate for the situation, he guesses, but it does its job and Loki pulls away from the screen for a second to just stare at him before refusing and looking back. The robot's teetering now, but there's something else going on and Percy's pretty sure he'll having to make his own way back to camp, and wonders if he can thumb Grey Sisters from this place and he's pretending like he doesn't see Loki relaxing in relief 'cause he's not entirely sure how to take that. Guy doesn't leave though, he's pretty comfortable with the place, and he's taking to shooting questioning looks at Percy that Percy isn't going to answer.

“Are you going to finish the popped corn?”

And yeah, okay, so he hands over what's left in the bowl to Loki, the guy seems like he needs it. He dimly remembers reading somewhere that they're brothers? Or was that Carl? No, Thor and Loki, he's fairly sure of it. Well, for as much as he can be sure 'cause they don't look a damn thing alike. Then the image of Tyson enters his head and Percy's wondering if Norse Gods are just as messed up as the Greek ones. Loki's decent company anyway, questioning why Percy was left behind and okay, so there's some veiled threats but the guy's got an image of evil to keep up so he lets it slide and anyway, it's nothing like the threats Ares openly gives.

When the guys get back there's a tense moment, especially since Loki's actually laughing at a story Percy's telling about beating Ares when he was 12 – turns out Loki doesn't get on with the War God either – and it's pretty clear they've never seen it. Well, except Thor who steps forward and the look on his face is like someone who's just seen something they'd thought they'd lost forever and Percy wonders if that's the look Grover insisted was plastered across his face when they found Annabeth that one quest.

“Brother.”

Loki stands pretty damn quickly, and there's the fixing of the angry mask, the snarling out of threats and yup, Norse Gods are just as messed up as the Greek ones.

Maybe Hermes was right when he said family's complicated.

Chapter Text

The weirdest thing about all of this Avenger thing is that there's a member of the team that Percy already knows on a fairly to pretty okay basis. Clint's a son of Apollo, and tends to show up to Camp for a couple of weeks every summer to visit his siblings and he's pretty cool about hanging out with people, and he's forever trying to get Percy to actually learn how to shoot an arrow more than on the rare occasion. When he sees Percy he sort of smirks, drops to one knee, and is all: “Hail, the Hero of Olympus.”

Really, it's his own fault that Percy accidentally-on-purpose chucked a load of water over his head. Wasn't planned. At all. Why does no one ever believe him when he protests his innocence.

But that whole Hero of Olympus thing makes everyone curious, and Thor may have gotten a fuzzy picture from his Dad, but Clint is more than happy to give the 1080 pixel high definition view with surround sound of it all. Percy's looking down at the table, and trying not to but in even though he really wants to. It's weird, y'know, hearing someone tell tales of things he's done like they're some great legend or whatever. Its just stuff he's done, and yeah, it was pretty big but if he didn't do it, then someone else would have. Probably Nico, he was wicked powerful getting. Plus he actually knew what he was doing more than half of the time, which had to be like a bonus or something.

It's not like Percy doesn't get that he's done something great, he just really doesn't see the point of going on about it.

Clint does though, and when he's finished regaling them with the tale, well, wait, actually he doesn't get that far. About fifteen minutes into his tale telling, Percy looks up. He looks right at Clint, who really sues his hands a lot to help like make his points stick better, but whatever, he interrupts easily; “So where were you when Kronos was waging war in the city? Could have done with a hand.” Clint stares, and sits down at the table, placing his bow in front of them both.

“Still helping with the clean up at Mount Saint Helens.” Percy nodded, and promptly shut up. Yeah, he was still... not entirely in people's good books about that. Never again is he playing with that particular power, nope, never. … Well, maybe once or twice. If the situation calls for it. It was a pretty awesome rush, after all. Could do without the two weeks out cold, though. That bit's not cool. “Your work?” Clint looks at Percy and it's pretty obvious he knows the answer. Everyone knew the answer.

“You … blew up Mount Saint Helens?” Tony looked surprised.

“Not on purpose.”

That just made them look at him the way half of his teachers looked at him. That way that just said we know you're lying Mr. Jackson, how can you not blow something up on purpose, we've seen you do it far too many times before, things would go far better for you if you just took responsibility for your actions. Or something like that. He tuned out halfway through most of the lectures and started staring at cracks in the ceiling. And how was it that even the Avengers Tower had cracks in the ceiling? It was brand new, wasn't it? There wasn't like a place you could buy second hand ceilings. Was there?

“Kid. Nemo!”

“What?”

Yeah, he needed to try to tune into conversations more. It was time to go back to Camp. Apparently they needed to talk to Chiron, or something.

Percy wondered if he'd missed dinner.  

Chapter Text

Clint decided he would drive them back to the Camp. Which was good and all, and no, Clint, Percy had complete and utter faith in your driving skills, he just, erm, likes clinging to dashboards. It's fun. Speaking of fun, here's a fun fact: not the weirdest excuse Clint has bought. The guy isn't even a bad driver, he's just fun to wind up. He'll get him back – Percy can already feel the pain in his arms from stringing all those bows. Half of them don't even look touched, man.

Steve and Tony come along 'cause they're, like, the faces of the team and whenever someone says that Percy can't help but look for some muscle bound spandex pants wearing dude holding a chair with an evil grin. Side note; he really needs to ask how many Ares kids go into professional wrestling, he swears he saw Clarisse one one of those shows. Not that he watches them. Except that once. Well, maybe it was twice. ...He likes the dude who snarks at everyone the best.

“So, where's Tasha?” Percy finds himself asking, bored of counting the endless stream of traffic and next time he needs to make this drive, he's taking Grey Sisters. There's silence in the back seat, and he's wondering if he's set some sort of record in shutting Tony Stark the hell up when the laughing starts.

Tasha?!” Clint's rolling his eyes and Percy doesn't even need the look to let him know his butt is gonna be kicked so hard he'll wish for another round with Kronos just for a breather. Tony's still laughing in the back, and … yeah, there's the noise of Steve whacking him in the arm to get him to shut the hell up. “Oh, that is way too cute,” Tony sighs.

“She'll rip your arc reactor out,” Clint warns.

“Worth it,” Tony shrugs. Percy grins.

“She's on a mission,” Clint ignores Tony to answer Percy who just gives a nod. Missions were a lot like quests, really, though he's pretty sure bringing that up to any of them would just have them laughing at him like he was some ignorant little kid. Ignorant he may be, but he takes offence to that last one. He spends a lot of the journey kind of quiet, sort of halfway between napping and awake. He really, really wants to just close his eyes and sleep but there's still that over-excited six year old in his head flipping out over the fact that he's in the same car of Captain America! Percy briefly wonders if Steve would sign his trading cards, then mentally slaps himself because seriously, who does that?

(The chill that tingles the hairs on his neck make him think he probably shouldn't mention this line of thought around certain people because they will make him pay. He wonders why it is most people he knows have ways of making him sorry for the stupid stuff he does, then he starts to wonder if he shouldn't start thinking about his actions more but that is so lacking in any kind of fun he ignores it.)

They're all pretty quiet actually, or maybe it's just being so damn tired that makes Percy think so and his head is dropping and his eyes almost closing when he spots the flicker so it's really no surprise that he ignores it. Then he saw it again and sitting bolt upright and undoing his seatbelt made Clint's eyes narrow.

“You see it?”

Percy just had to nod, and Clint was cutting the engine. The whole Hero of Olympus thing wasn't so bad when it got people listening to you like that, but it'd be a lot more effective if it worked on his teacher's when it came to explaining why his homework was missing. Again.

“What is that?” Steve's voice reaches the front of the car as the figures become clearer.

Lamia,” Percy can only just hear Clint's reply because he's already out of the car and attacking the Lamias from behind. Yeah, yeah, cowardly move, he knows, but they're moving quickly towards the Camp and he's not a total idiot, he knows that's bad news.

Thing is, these Lamias, they're pretty. Like, okay, yeah he's never really gotten the older woman thing but he sort of gets it here. 'Cause they are kind of pretty, and he has a moment of wait, 'cause wasn't there only one in the myth, was some sort of queen or something? So yeah, he ends up eating dirt pretty quickly.

But then he's back on his feet, Riptide is out, and he's ducking and dodging, and he's moving so fast that Riptide is just slicing through them like butter. And that's like butter that's been out of the fridge for a while, and is really sort of soft. Not the rock hard, destroys your bread when trying to make a sandwich stuff.

One of them reaches out, and the hand on the back of his neck is cold at first but then it's the warmest thing and he doesn't want it gone, and it would all be easier if he just let this really attractive older woman lead him by the hand and show them the way to go. … Speaking of which, he's pretty sure that hand didn't feel all snakey a moment ago. There's a rushing of water in his ears and he swings Riptide, and lops her arm off at the elbow joint. The shriek hurts his ears, 'cause man that's a high pitch, but he keeps on.

The last of the Lamia-whatever-they-were-cause-he's-sure-the-myth-had-only-one was dust making him cough when he realised he did that one his own. Well, he realised, but he was coughing too hard to care, monster dust had a way of getting down your throat and gross, he just realised the implication of that. Riptide had been dropped with the coughing, so Percy recaps it and shoves it deep in his pocket, making his way back to the car and dropping back into his seat. Steve and Tony are kind of quiet, but Clint just looks over.

“Seatbelt.”

Percy puts on his seatbelt.  

Chapter Text

So getting back to the Camp wasn't really an issue after the whole battle thing. Tony was pretty quiet, and Percy wasn't going to lie and say he was a chatterbox either. What was a chatterbox? Sounds like a toy. Maybe he had one when he was younger, he had a few things that made noise, but Gabe used to smash them against them wall when he was losing badly at poker and yeah, let's not go down that memory lane because in there lies badness. Plus he was made to chat about it all them time in Chiron ordered therapy sessions – all Campers had to take them, and it got boring after a while. Anyway, Clint and Steve were yammering away loud enough to cover for the lack of snark.

“So, uh, this is the Camp,” he shrugged, gesturing at the place when they finally got there – seriously Clint, could he drive any slower? “It's a pretty cool place,” he added, not really stopping the grin that appeared. He did like the Camp after all, it was a cool place, and it had cool people, and going by the smell in the air, it also had a fantastic dinner ready for that night that Percy had fortunately not missed. Score. Feeling that he was done with the whole introductory guide thing, he turned to make his way towards the mess hall when Clint grabs the back of his top. Percy chokes, and hey, the scowl is the politest way of showing his annoyance, 'cause he's trying to cut down on the whole colourful language thing.

“Big House,” is Clint's only explanation. Percy pauses, frowning and Clint is the one to roll his eyes this time. “You know Chiron'll want to know about this,” he adds in a tone that's better suited for explaining things to a five year old. Clint found it worked well on Percy, even if he did receive a lot of creative hand gestures in response. Percy gives a nod to show he agrees though, and when Clint gives him a little push to lead the way to the Big House, he doesn't complain about it. He could sense Tony mapping the place out though, probably redesigning it in his head. He'd need to fight with Annabeth on that. Steve was.... Well, he was being Steve, smiling at the Campers who turned to stare, and pointedly ignoring the points and excited mutters.

Getting into the Big House is easy and really,with the week he's having, Percy really should not have been surprised to see Phil sitting in there already, talking to Chiron like it was just his annual Panathena visit. (Percy never got that they had it annually; he'd looked it up and was pretty confident it was meant to be a once every four years thing. Annabeth asked him if he wanted her Mother to dislike him more than she already did and he decided it would be best for him to drop the matter after that.) Annabeth's sitting there too, and the grin she shoots Percy tells him not only does she know more than he does, but her elder brother knows more than him as well.

Nothing new there, then.

“What are you doing here, Super Nanny man?” Tony asks, looking completely nonplussed (a weird word that Paul taught him and this is the first time he's found a time to use it) at Phil's being there, though he sounds kind of annoyed by it. And it's not just Percy like, imagining, the annoyance. Steve totally picks up on it as well.

“Tony!” There's a pause, and Steve sort of shifted awkwardly. “Er, why are you here, Agent Coulson?” The politeness is probably what does it, or maybe it's just due to the widely known secret that Phil is a huge Captain America fan boy that makes him smile at Steve. Clint laughs, and folds his arms over his chest, perching up on a desk and waiting. He comes down again pretty quickly after Chiron gives him a look.

“Someone had to fill Chiron in on Mr. Jackson's new status,” Phil said evenly, his smile never breaking. “And I had promised Mother that I would visit my siblings more often,” he turned his smile to Annabeth,, who gave a huge genuine grin back. His eyes fell on Percy once more. “She wanted it to be known that she is always paying attention.” Percy wondered if there was any sort of tribute that would make Athena not want to ban him from her daughter. Annabeth's laugh at his dismayed look suggested not. She grinned widely at him.

Screw it. Let the owls attack. So worth it.