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The Last Demigod

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Bang, bang, bang. The bull pushed through trees, trying to get at me. It kept coming, not willing to stop until I became its dinner. It was what, the fourth time I had encountered this bull, the first when I was twelve, around six years ago. I continued to run through the forest, my pets with me. Blackjack, my pegasus, was flying over the bull, kicking it whenever he could. My hellhound, Mrs. O'leary, was running alongside me, occasionally shadow traveling behind the bull, scratching or biting it. "Blackjack, Mrs. O'leary, come!" I shouted. "I got a plan"

Mrs. O'leary came back, running at a steady pace alongside me. "I hope this one is actually good and works," Blackjack neighed. "Last time with the Empoisia, you got shocked by the illusions and we had to save your sorry butt."

"I defeated this guy before you ever met me! And Blackjack, I need to ride you. Mrs. O'leary, I want you to stay right below us on the ground."

"Ok, boss." He flew over to me, keeping pace. I jumped on a few seconds later. As I kicked, he knew exactly where I wanted to go. "Are you serious? Right above the bull, just out of reach? They are getting more powerful, you know."

"Shush, Blackjack. I'm concentrating." Holding on with only my feet, I began to dig my ballpoint pen, Riptide, out of my pocket. Got it. As I uncapped it, it sprang out into a full-length celestial bronze sword. This was Riptide. Holding it with my right hand, I began to aim. It had to be perfect or I would miss the back. We were both moving creatures. "Fly right above him. I'm going to need you to drop me on his back. Once I stab him, you need to be ready for me to jump right back on."

"Are you sure boss?" he asked me nervously.

"I'll be fine. And don't call me boss!" I shouted as I dropped off. Thankfully, I was communicating with Blackjack, so it made almost no sound. It wouldn't have mattered much anyway though, as the bull was hard of hearing and had bad eyesight. He tracked by smell. Hopefully, by being on top of him, he will be confused by all the different smells, along with not being able to reach me. Taking Riptide, I plunged it into his furry backside, through the ribcage, into the heart. "Blackjack now!"

He dived, heading right toward me. I jumped, landing on his back. He flew up and fast, Mrs. O'leary following. "Is he dead, boss?"

"Think so. Plus we are getting out of here. Riptide will come back eventually. Hopefully, where we go next, there is food. Cause I'm getting hungry. Now shadow travel us out of here Mrs. O'leary!" As I spoke, Blackjack partially landed on Mrs. O'leary so we would travel with her.

"I hope there are donuts there!"

"Donuts are bad for your health, and you are already too hyper," I scolded him. "NO!"

The world started to spin, and all went black. We shot through the air, space and time before the world stopped spinning and became bright again. None of us had any clue where we were. If Blackjack knew, he would have already begun to talk my ear off. And I didn't recognize it either. If only Annabeth was here.

It was my seventeenth birthday. I was sleeping in the Poseidon cabin the night before. At midnight, twelve am, when my birthday started, I awoke with a thump. The camp was gone, my friends with it. I was lying in a plain, old strawberry patch. I somehow found my car, Paul's old Prius. Driving home to the apartment, everything was usual. When I went home I asked my mom if she knew who my dad was. She had no clue it was Poseidon. Thanks to this surprising information, I traveled to the Empire State Building. I asked the guy for the 600th floor. He looked at me like I was crazy. But when he looked up, I saw that it was a different guy. So I went outside and looked up. Olympus wasn't there. Due to this new, scary information, I looked up records of people on a library computer. Both Annabeth and her cousin didn't exist. Neither did any other einherjar or demigod. I also visited the Kanes. Surprisingly, they were a whole family, and not a magical one. Carter and Sadie somehow forgot about Zia and Walt. I also visited Sam. She had no clue about the Norse other than from books. She also didn't have powers. Blitzen and Hearthstone's store had also disappeared, leaving me to find out that the other eight worlds had disconnected from us. But I also had found the monsters were still here, and more powerful than ever. Thankfully, Mrs. O'leary and Blackjack were still around though. I also still had a whole arsenal of gold, silver, bronze, iron, steel, and ivory. Special weapons and materials from all four religions. I retained my powers as well. For some reason, when everyone disappeared, I was left with a backpack and bandanna. That backpack could hold anything, and whatever was in there would stay the same till I took it out. I could hold infinite things, and what I wanted would always be at the top. But everything had to be manually put in there. It came with weapons and armor. No food. The bandanna was like the hunters' tents. That was it. It was a place to sleep, plus, Blackjack and Mrs. O'leary could fit too. Three days after my birthday, I left. I did not want my mortal family dragged into a world they didn't know about. So after putting all of my things into the backpack, tying the bandanna around my head, I took off with the pegasus and hellhound.

We took off, Mrs. O'leary at my side, pretending to be my dog and that we were on a walk. Blackjack took to the sky, staying near, but hidden in the clouds. As we walked around randomly, I ended up in a dead end. We were cornered.

Two people appeared, both in black. The woman had been following us the whole time. I knew about that. I didn't know about the man though, who had jumped down from the roof of the buildings nearby. "That man has been tracking you, boss."

"A little late, Blackjack."

"Why are you talking like a horse?" the woman asked, moving closer. "Do you have a contact? An earpiece? Close or near?"

"Depends if you call a flying horse named Blackjack a contact," I retorted. I know I shouldn't have told her that. But I had a feeling it would work out. And that it was necessary. "I have known him since I was thirteen. My only other accomplice is my dog, Mrs. O'leary. She has been mine since her previous owner died when I was fourteen. And I'm eighteen." I gestured at Mrs. O'leary. "Blackjack, you can come down now."

'You neighed again."

"You sure boss. They look dangerous."

"Yes, I'm sure. Come." Blackjack flew down from the clouds.

"Impossible," the woman whispered in awe. "The horse is as black as a pitch dark night or a black hole, and has wings."

"Not impossible, Widow. You weren't around for what went down in New Mexico as you were to busy with Stark," the man told her. I wonder what that means.

Chapter Text

"I'll explain if you promise to not run away and come back with us after this," the man ordered. "Call me Hawkeye and the girl's Black Widow."

"Like the spider?" I asked. "And I swear on the river Styx that I will not run and will come with you." Thunder boomed in the background, sealing the oath. I was a little surprised it actually worked. Guess the rivers weren't gone. The mortals just looked confused though.

"Yes, like the spider," the girl whispered, slinking closer to me. "I seduce men, then kill them after they aren't useful. Unless they are my target. Then I seduce them, and when they are distracted my partner or I kill them." The girl was a little crazy, but one could tell that she was a killer and good at. Both of them were. But what I could tell from observing was that the Black Widow was more hand to hand, whereas Hawkeye was better at being a sniper. But they worked well together. So I suspect they are usually partners and have been for a while.

"Don't scare him so soon Widow," Hawkeye scolded, laughing. "We don't need him freaked out or running away."

"No need to worry assassins," I reassured. The two exchanged glances. I probably was not supposed to know that they were assassins. Oh well. "I kill too. It is necessary to survive. If I didn't kill the monsters, they would kill me. From when I was twelve till when I was seventeen, I went to a camp to learn how to kill monsters." As I talked, I zoned out, daydreaming about the past. The girl clapped her hands in my face, surprising me, dragging me out of thought.

"We work for an organization called SHIELD, and a little while ago, I was on a mission since a hammer and an alien called Thor came to Earth, thankfully, he soon left with the hammer and the other aliens. New Mexico got a little destroyed though. That's the short version. I can elaborate once we get to headquarters. And just so you know, we are in Budapest, Hungary." Somehow, the boy didn't breathe at all. He managed to say the whole thing in one breath. Wait one second, Thor? And a hammer? I thought the gods were gone. Maybe in their place, these new ones replaced them. I would have to find more out about this later.

"Requesting quinjet for three people, a giant dog, and a winged horse. This is Black Widow calling in with Hawkeye. We found someone. Tell Stark to send an unmanned jet to our location." She held her ear while whispering this. I would bet she has an earpiece and was talking to people at her base. I could hear though that she requested transport. "I hope you are fine with flying," she stated, glancing at me. "We are flying back to base."

"Zeus is gone, I could care less," I whispered. Speaking up I told them, "I could care less."

They nodded at me, before sitting down. I guess it might be a bit. I gestured at my animals to rest, but stay close. I pulled my backpack off my back and placed it in between my legs. I was truthful when I said I was hungry. Mrs. O'leary could have heard it as Hungary, and that was why she took us here. Oh well.

"Hey boss, can I have a donut?" I grabbed an apple, tossing it to him. He gobbled it up. "Guess not." I rolled my eyes at him. Actually, I had a lot of donuts, but I didn't want to give him any. I took a bag of trail mix out, putting the backpack back on my back. As we waited, I slowly ate the trail mix.

The man looked at the sky. "Tell your pets to get out of the way. The craft will come in soon. Widow, you're pilot." I ran over, jumping up on to Blackjack, holding Mrs. O'leary's collar. I rode Blackjack back over to them, pulling the hellhound with me. A couple of seconds after we got out of the way, a plane like machine landed in the middle of the ally. The doors opened, and the girl walked inside. "You first." I got off Blackjack and walked into the ship, my friends following me. Once I entered, the man walked in and closed the doors. I was locked in.

The quinjet was interesting. I had never seen anything like it before. That might be because it was high tech, I didn't go in flying vehicles until I was seventeen, and then I was on the run. So there was no chance I could see anything like this before. I bet it was for SHIELD, and only SHIELD. "This for SHIELD only?" I asked. "Who even created this?"

"Quinjets are made and designed by Stark," Black Widow answered. "They are only for SHIELD at the moment. If we ever end up starting the Avengers initiative, they will be used by them as well." She disappeared through a door, most likely to where the controls were. I could hear the engine start.

"Sit down and buckle up, kid. It might be a long ride. And she is a good pilot for fighting, but not the safest at commercial."

I was a little scared with what he said. I'm still don't like being in the air that much. Knowing I was safe from Zeus helped, but old habits die hard. "Call me Percy," I told him, breaking the silence. "I don't want to be called kid. My name is Percy Jackson. Don't hurt my family." I sat down on one of the chairs, securing the seat belt as much as I could. Then I stopped. I had pets to care for. "Do you have harnesses?"

"Ships are sent equipped with what is needed," he remarked. "Widow requested one for a horse and dog. So I bet there are some somewhere." He looked around. "Check in that chest." I stood up and walked over to the chest. There was a complex lock on it. Thankfully, I could pick locks. Taking a paperclip out of my bag, I picked the lock. Guess the Hermes cabin was right when they told me that skill would be useful. Inside were two harnesses. A blue one for horses, and a purple one for dogs. I smiled. They were the correct size. Taking the harnesses, I attached them to my pets. There was two seat belt with no seats, so I lead them there. Threading the seat belts through the harnesses, the mythical creatures were secure.

"Thanks for telling me." I went back to my seat and buckled up again.

"No problem kid. And prepare yourself. This is going to be a tough ride." As soon as he finished talking, we shot up into the air. I almost threw up. Hawkeye was right about Black Widows flying.

"The wind currents are rough today boys," Black Widow shouted through the speakers. "Looks like we will be passing some major storms and will be going close to an active volcano." We took a hard right, practically flipping over. I think I peed myself. "Oops," she called cheerfully as we flipped back over. "Haven't flown one of these in a bit. But please, don't throw up. That would get me in trouble." We continued toward the Atlantic Ocean.

Hawkeye and I shared a glace. This was going to be a bad flight. Soon we reached the ocean, and she sped up. Over the ocean, winds are even worse. Was she crazy? As I tasted bile in my mouth, I asked, "Are you crazy?"

"A little!" she crowed.

"Kill me now," I groaned.

Chapter Text

I'm dying. I'm gonna die like my grandparents. A plane crash. But this time, with two strangers, a dog, and a horse. Is this what my life has come to? Suddenly, I had an idea. "Hawk," I shouted. "Could I ride my horse alongside the ship. You can ride along for security reasons."

"Good idea." He smiled, before pressing a button, talking to the spider on his earpiece. "Spider says yes, I just got to ride behind you to make sure you stay with us. And the dog must be left in the jet to double check you will come back." I decided not to mention the fact that Mrs. O'leary could easily shadow travel to me from the jet. It was better not to, it gave me an advantage over them.

I sighed in relief, both for being able to get out, and them not knowing about Mrs. O'leray's powers. "Hey, spider girl," I called, hoping she could hear me. "Can you put the jet in hover so bird, myself and the horse can get out?"

Words echoed from the earpiece, unable to be understood. "She says yes," he relayed. "And that it is called a quinjet." As he spoke, the ship stopped, and we began to hover. I unbuckled my seat belt, getting up, stretching. Walking to the chest, I dug through it, trying to find something useful. Finally, I found a belt that ties two people together.

"I'll put this on, and you can connect behind me in order to stay steady," I told Hawkeye. Turning to Blackjack, I whispered, "He's gonna fly with us. Ya good?"

"I can hold heavier things then you two combined boss," he neighed. "You underestimate me."

"Meant whether you are willing. Guess that is a yes."

The man stood up and strode over to me. We got into the belt together, thankfully it fit. I dragged him onto Blackjack. "Open the gates!" Surprisingly, the girl listened to me. Kicking Blackjack to get started, we flew out of the quinjet. "Hold on tight." Blackjack complained in my ear as Hawkeye tightened his grip on him.

"Continue Widow," he growled. "We are ready to continue. From what I hear, the horse should be able to keep up with you." A response came back as the doors closed. I hope Mrs. O'leary doesn't die. She took off into the distance. Quickly, we followed her.

As we arrived over America, near New York, we stopped. Most likely because of secrets. "You must go in and be blindfolded. But I'll pilot instead."

Knew it. But it would be better to just cooperate. Plus, Hawkeye would take over steering, so that would be an advantage. The door opened, and I flew us inside. We dismounted Blackjack and took off the belt. I placed it in the chest before sitting down. Hawkeye strode over to the cockpit, as Black Widow tiptoed out. She wrapped a blindfold around Mrs. O'leary and Blackjack, then strolled over to me. "You already know the deal."

As I took the blindfold I ordered, "Don't kill me. I will go willingly, but the second there is harm to me or my animals without reasoning, I'm out."

"Deal." We shook hands, and I tied the blindfold 'round my eyes. "Night," she whispered. There was a chemical on the blindfold. It got in my eyes. I was going down, falling asleep.

Bang, I hit the ground. The only thought running through my head was, "Zzz…" I was out, out cold.

I woke up, immediately analyzing my surroundings. I was in a dark, grey room, with one cot, that had a shield on it. My bandanna and backpack were left in the corner. I bet they tried to take them, and the curse activated. They changed my clothes though. I was now wearing grey sweatpants, white socks, grey sneakers, a black t-shirt with a shield on it, and a grey sweatshirt with the initials, S.H.I.E.L.D. on it, where there you usually be a brand name. Blackjack and Mrs. O'leary were there too, both with collars missing name tags, which were also grey with a black shield design.

The locked door opened, and Hawkeye entered the room. "Write down the information for you and the pets. The pets for their dog tags, you for a badge." He tossed a stack of paper at me.

Name: Mrs. O'leary

Species: Hellhound

Owner: Percy Jackson

Address: Homeless

Call: Don't have a phone

Gender: Female

Age: Immortal

Name: Blackjack

Species: Pegasus

Owner: Percy Jackson

Address: Homeless

Call: Don't have a phone

Gender: Male

Age: No clue

Name: Perseus Jackson

Goes By: Percy Jackson

Mother: Sally Jackson-Blofis

Father:

I stopped for a second, hesitating. What should I put? Mom doesn't know dad though at the moment, so I guess unknown. I took a look around the room, having a breather. Lost in memory and thoughts, I had a panic attack. As I looked, I noticed a camera. They must be spying. Now, back on track Percy.

Father: Unknown

First Stepfather: Gabe Ugliano

Second Stepfather: Paul Blofis

Address: Homeless

Phone: Don't have one

Date of Birth: August 18, 1993

Age: 18

Gender: Male

And a bunch more questions. Thankfully, when the mystical world disappeared, so did my dyslexia. I still had ichor in my blood, my powers, and ADHD. I just could now read. Once I answered all the questions and sheets, I through the pen they gave me at the camera. It hit. I guess without the gods, the old accuracy curse was gone. That will be helpful. I dropped the papers on the cot and stood up, walking over to my pets.

Creak. The door opened. Hawkeye walked in and picked up the papers and pen. "You got good accuracy," he remarked, nodding. "But not as good as mine. Come with me, Fury said to take you in for questioning. Leave the creatures here." As I followed him out, I panicked internally. A fury? I thought they didn't know the mythical. Plus, the kindly ones died with the rest, as they sided with the gods. This ain't gonna end well, I don't think the two of us will get along.

Due to being lost in thought, I didn't notice the strange looks sent at me, or that we had arrived. Hawk shoved me into a room with a black guy in a black trench coat sitting at a desk, not facing me. Hawk let go of me, exiting the room, slamming the door with a bang. At that, the man swiveled around in his chair. Facing me was Fury, a black guy with a black eye patch and serious expression, staring me down. There was awkward silence for a couple of moments. Then he opened his mouth. He had a deep, gravelly voice.

"Now, Mr. Jackson, are you a threat? Or a new recruit? I wonder what our two assassins saw in you."

Chapter Text

"Who in Hades are you?" I shouted. "A weird master chess player? The one behind the scenes, the one in charge? And last I checked, all three Fury's have faded." The guy was weird. I didn't like the feel of him. He had a weird aura. It reminded me of Prometheus. But he had faded. Plus, Titans didn't have kids with mortals. The gods kept an eye on that. Sadly, they didn't keep an eye out for traitors.

"I may be the only one in my family left, but I am pretty sure they died, not faded, Mr. Jackson." This guy was not good for me. But he was good. No one I knew, until him could do that. I definitely needed to be careful near him. One could easily tell that he could use anything you say against you. Shoot. He could use what I said earlier to find out about the Greeks. "Now, you said Hades and the three furies. Would you care to explain?"

What should I tell him? I need to bluff my way through this. But he could find out. Pray for me this works. I'm part god, so I think you re able to pray to me. "I am Greek. My uncle is named Hades, and he has three daughters, who everybody calls the three furies. They have recently died, and since we burn our dead on a funeral pyre. It is considered, 'fading.'" I hope he accepts my answer. Then again, Fury is an unusual last name, so it might make sense.

"Humph." He didn't seem to believe I was saying everything. "You told the truth, but there is more to your story." Knew it.

"I don't want to speak any more about the topic," I spoke, my voice quivering, a broken look in my eyes, and I was tearing up. "What, what do you want with me?" He could tell it was a rough topic. Look like his spy senses were good for something.

"I want you as an agent, or at least an asset. Knowledge that you are on our side" I didn't like that answer. I have had enough of being used by powerful manipulators. At least the gods were family. I had never met this man before. But they had the advantage. Even if Mrs. O'leary, Blackjack, and I could escape, they probably had trackers on us. They had the advantage.

"And what would I get out of it?" I asked, taking hold of his gaze, not blinking, just staring and glaring. He seemed a little surprised, before joining the contest. After a couple of minutes, he blinked. I could see out of the corner of my eye, Black Widow passing Hawkeye some money through the window. Guess they were betting on us.

"We can give you a home, a place to live. If you choose to become an agent, you would gain a purpose. There is also a chance that you could make a friend, maybe even a romantic relationship." Those were tempting reasons. I wanted, needed a home. Plus, I had a feeling these troops could fight and hold off the monsters, they wouldn't be in danger. If they were, their fault, they were the ones who brought me in. Purpose was something my life had been lacking, and I needed something to do. Life was boring when you were always running. That was why I looked forward to summer, the prophecies and exciting, dangerous quests. They probably could provide them year round. Living on my own with two animals wasn't the best either. I wanted, craved human contact, to be able to speak with others. There were many people here.

"Fine," I answered reluctantly. "I'll become an agent. But I want to be able to leave if I want to."

"You wouldn't be able to just leave. Especially since you could find out dangerous information, secret information. You could retire and stay here if you want though, and go on vacations if you want, but one of my agents would have to stay and watch you. Preferably Hawkeye." He looked up at the last part, specifically at the air vent. It opened, and someone dropped down. Hawk.

"I would be glad to babysit!" he crowed. "You finally trust me and treat me like an adult. I thought you would go with Coulson." I don't know why he was so excited. But I liked Hawk, so if someone had to watch me, I was glad it was him. He seemed like a good guy. Maybe a little shady, but I could feel something familiar in him. Was he abused too?

"You will also have to be his handler, and he would start at the point of a new recruit. Black Widow will take over your duties, so you can spend full time with him." I feel like that was meant to be a bad thing. But Hawk didn't take it as such. He thought it was amazing.

"Okay, boss. That sounds fun. But could I test him on things first to see what I can skip? And should I invite the creatures to the party? Also, he seems like a medieval weapon guy, like me." Wonder how he could tell. It would be nice if I could skip somethings. But would this mean I would have to become an assassin or spy? I am a straight up, fight them head on warrior.

"Yes, you would join the ranks as our third assassin. Now, what weapons do you use?" How did he know what I was thinking? I shouldn't lie then, especially if this guy could read minds. Think of blue food, think of blue food. "I can't read minds, idiot. I was just guessing as that seemed like a probable thing you were thinking." Phew. It would be bad if he could read my mind. But he knew what I was thinking? Was he a mutant? Was SHIELD even mutant friendly? If it was, I could use that to explain my powers. They did come from dad after all.

"I use a sword, but I am good with any melee weapon and throwing knives. I'm not good at archery last time I tried, and I have never used modern weapons, such as a gun. Sometimes I use a shield or dual wield." I pulled Riptide out of my pocket and uncapped it. They both pulled out a weapon, ready for a fight. "Relax. This is my sword that I usually use, Riptide. It always returns to my pocket. Don't try and take it. Nothing will happen to me" Looking at it closely, I realized that it had become like Backbiter. One side celestial bronze, the other silver. It was nice they chose that mortal metal, as now I could harm werewolves with it. Most likely it was chosen to become half silver since I would need to use it on things other than monsters. I wish it hadn't come to this.

Thunder boomed as the three of us stared at my sword. A beam of red and green light flooded from the sword. I could feel it connecting to a rainbow sword, very far away. As if it was on a different planet. Seconds later, the light faded. But I could still feel the connection on the sword. I hope it doesn't happen again, it could be a weakness. "Well, shows over boys. Barton, show the boy and the creatures to their room, it's next to yours, then take them over to the gym. Start the testing." As I began to follow him out, and the spider entered, the thunder and lights started up again as I went to cap my sword. The lights grew brighter and brighter until two men came rolling out.

"Him again," muttered Hawk. "Along with another." The men reminded me of Thor and Loki, when Magnus and Annabeth took me to meet them. But they should be gone. Right?

Chapter Text

"Who in Hades are you?" I shouted. "A weird master chess player? The one behind the scenes, the one in charge? And last I checked, all three Fury's have faded." The guy was weird. I didn't like the feel of him. He had a weird aura. It reminded me of Prometheus. But he had faded. Plus, Titans didn't have kids with mortals. The gods kept an eye on that. Sadly, they didn't keep an eye out for traitors.

"I may be the only one in my family left, but I am pretty sure they died, not faded, Mr. Jackson." This guy was not good for me. But he was good. No one I knew until he could do that. I definitely needed to be careful near him. One could easily tell that he could use anything you say against you. Shoot. He could use what I said earlier to find out about the Greeks. "Now, you said Hades and the three Furies. Would you care to explain?"

What should I tell him? I need to bluff my way through this. But he could find out. Pray for me this works. I'm part god, so I think you are able to pray to me. "I am Greek. My uncle is named Hades, and he has three daughters, who everybody calls the three Furies. They have recently died, and since we burn our dead on a funeral pyre, it is considered, 'fading.'" I hope he accepts my answer. Then again, Fury is an unusual last name, so it might make sense.

"Humph." He didn't seem to believe I was saying everything. "You told the truth, but there is more to your story." Knew it.

"I don't want to speak any more about the topic," I spoke, my voice quivering, a broken look in my eyes, and I was tearing up. "What, what do you want with me?" He could tell it was a rough topic. Look like his spy senses were good for something.

"I want you as an agent, or at least an asset. Knowledge that you are on our side" I didn't like that answer. I have had enough of being used by powerful manipulators, such as the gods, and now, this guy. At least the gods were family. I had never met this man before. But they had the advantage. Even if Mrs. O'leary, Blackjack, and I could escape, they probably had trackers on us. They had the advantage.

"And what would I get out of it?" I asked, taking hold of his gaze, not blinking, just staring and glaring. He seemed a little surprised, before joining the contest. After a couple of minutes, he blinked. I could see out of the corner of my eye, Black Widow passing Hawkeye some money through the window. Guess they were betting on us.

"We can give you a home, a place to live. If you choose to become an agent, you would gain a purpose. There is also a chance that you could make a friend, maybe even a romantic relationship." Those were tempting reasons. I wanted, needed a home. Plus, I had a feeling these troops could fight and hold off the monsters, they wouldn't be in danger. If they were, their fault, they were the ones who brought me in. Purpose was something my life had been lacking, and I needed something to do. Life was boring when you were always running. That was why I looked forward to summer, the prophecies and exciting, dangerous quests. They probably could provide them year round. Living on my own with two animals wasn't the best either. I wanted, craved human contact, to be able to speak with others. There were many people here.

"Fine," I answered reluctantly. "I'll become an agent. But I want to be able to leave if I want to."

"You wouldn't be able to just leave. Especially since you could find out dangerous information, secret information. You could retire and stay here if you want though, and go on vacations if you want, but one of my agents would have to stay and watch you. Preferably Hawkeye." He looked up at the last part, specifically at the air vent. It opened, and someone dropped down. Hawk.

"I would be glad to babysit!" he crowed. "You finally trust me and treat me like an adult. I thought you would go with Coulson." I don't know why he was so excited. But I liked Hawk, so if someone had to watch me, I was glad it was him. He seemed like a good guy. Maybe a little shady, but I could feel something familiar in him. Was he abused too?

"You will also have to be his handler, and he would start at the point of a new recruit. Black Widow will take over your duties, so you can spend full time with him." I feel like that was meant to be a bad thing. But Hawk didn't take it as such. He thought it was amazing.

"Okay, boss. That sounds fun. But could I test him on things first to see what I can skip? And should I invite the creatures to the party? Also, he seems like a medieval weapon guy, like me." Wonder how he could tell. It would be nice if I could skip somethings. But would this mean I would have to become an assassin or spy? I am a straight up, fight them head on warrior.

"Yes, you would join the ranks as our third assassin. Now, what weapons do you use?" How did he know what I was thinking? I shouldn't lie then, especially if this guy could read minds. Think of blue food, think of blue food. "I can't read minds, idiot. I was just guessing as that seemed like a probable thing you were thinking." Phew. It would be bad if he could read my mind. But he knew what I was thinking? Was he a mutant? Was SHIELD even mutant friendly? If it was, I could use that to explain my powers. They did come from dad after all.

"I use a sword, but I am good with any melee weapon and throwing knives. I'm not good at archery last time I tried, and I have never used modern weapons, such as a gun. Sometimes I use a shield or dual wield." I pulled Riptide out of my pocket and uncapped it. They both pulled out a weapon, ready for a fight. "Relax. This is my sword that I usually use, Riptide. It always returns to my pocket. Don't try and take it. Nothing will happen to me" Looking at it closely, I realized that it had become like Backbiter. One side celestial bronze, the other silver. It was nice they chose that mortal metal, as now I could harm werewolves with it. Most likely it was chosen to become half silver since I would need to use it on things other than monsters. I wish it hadn't come to this.

Thunder boomed as the three of us stared at my sword. A beam of red and green light flooded from the sword. I could feel it connecting to a rainbow sword, very far away. As if it was on a different planet. Seconds later, the light faded. But I could still feel the connection on the sword. I hope it doesn't happen again, it could be a weakness. "Well, shows over boys. Barton, show the boy and the creatures to their room, it's next to yours, then take them over to the gym. Start the testing." As I began to follow him out, and the spider entered, the thunder and lights started up again as I went to cap my sword. The lights grew brighter and brighter until two men came rolling out.

"Him again," muttered Hawk. "Along with another." The men reminded me of Thor and Loki, when Magnus and Annabeth took me to meet them. But they should be gone. Right?

Chapter Text

We soon made it to an opening in the vent. Agent Barton took something out of his pockets and pulled off the cover. "Drop down," he whispered, sliding through the vent, landing without a sound. I can do that too, though, I was not going to show it. Being homeless is good for something. Inching closer, I went down, landing a little bit louder than he did. It was still pretty quiet.

"Barton, what are you doing here right now," Fury growled. "It is late, both of you should be in your rooms right now. You are lucky I am even here." He stood up and glared at us, stalking closer. He ripped the piece of paper out of Agent Barton's hand. We glanced at each other.

"It sort of is about that paper, Director," Agent Barton mumbled. "Look at it. I'm sure the kid is superhuman." Both of us stared at him in disbelief. I'm not superhuman. I may be only half human, but I ain't superhuman. Only a demigod. Which can be considered superhuman. Shut up brain! Anyway, I got no clue what was running through Fury's head right now. Not a mind reader.

Fury walked back over to his desk, sitting down with the paper. His eyes scanned over it multiple times. "No," he whispered in disbelief. "It isn't possible." Nothing is impossible. If it was, I wouldn't be here. 'Cause the Greek Gods should be impossible. Thus, I'm impossible. Stupid ADHD!

Agent Barton hit me on the head, knocking me out of my train of thought. "Ouch," I complained. It didn't hurt that much, definitely not when compared to hell. I'm telling the truth when I say it is bad down there. I've seen it, up close and personal. Spent a couple of weeks down there if I am telling the truth about it.

Fury managed to snap out of his shock. He tilted his head up and stared intently at Agent Barton. "Just make sure he can shoot, and do all of your spy duties. He is definitely good physically, and from what I hear, at hand to hand as well." Agent Barton nodded, the way one would think military men would. Was he ever there? I don't think that is true. He seems more like a circus guy. From what I saw, he was an acrobat. Plus, he was able to quickly adjust to riding Blackjack. Most people can't naturally ride a pegasus. Maybe circus? "Now, both of you go get some sleep, and don't bother me till morning." Standing up, he began to push both of us to the door.

"Nope," crowed Agent Barton. "Me and Agent Jackson are gonna take the vents. It's part of his training." I nodded, not wanting to disobey.

"Agent Jackson and I are going to take the vents," someone muttered under their breath. "Now get your butt up here." The vent opened up and a rope ladder was thrown down. Both of us scrambled up the ladder. "Bring the ladder up with you, Clint." Agent Barton pulled the ladder up and closed the vent.

The three of us ran through the vents, as silently as possible. I still couldn't see and find out who the third person was. They sounded female. And knew Agent Barton very well. "You are the spider, right?" I guessed. She turned around, insulted. She glared at me, but mine was better. Agent Barton backed away from the two of us nervously. He didn't want to get caught in the firefight.

"If by 'Spider,' you mean Black Widow, you are correct. Black Widows are a type of spider. But I would suggest not calling me that. Use Black Widow or Agent Romanoff. Not spider." There was a dangerous undertone in her voice. She is dangerous. At least, from what I heard, she is. Both of the people I am with are dangerous. Supposedly, some of the most dangerous people in the organization.

Agent Barton attempted to crawl away. Romanoff reached out and grabbed his leg. "Fine, I guess I'll stay," he mumbled, twisting out of her grip. "Anyway, I'm tired and want to get a move on. We continued to run through the vents. Eventually, we made it to three openings, all close to each other. "Our rooms. Jackson, you go first, then me, then Romanoff. Because Romanoff has the rope."

We advanced to the middle opening. Once Agent Barton took out the cover, Romanoff through the rope down. She stopped it right before it hit the ground. I climbed down. They pulled the rope in and closed the cover. I was alone.

"Boss, do you have food for me," Blackjack neighed. "And I don't like being stuck here alone!" I was hungry too. On the other hand, I knew we weren't going to get food till morning. Ignoring him, I walked into the closet, grabbed some pajamas, and plopped onto the bed.

"Night, both of you. Sorry, we ain't getting dinner tonight. But it's been a long day, so let's get some sleep." Collapsing on the pillow, I quickly fell asleep. My mind went dark. Hopefully, I wouldn't dream. For some reason, demigod dreams remained. Maybe there was a Giant of dreams, who was on Gaea's side. Now that was a scary thought. It also explained all of my nightmares.

All was dark. For a moment, I thought I would go the night without dreams. But I am not that lucky. I was enveloped in a rainbow. My eyes were exploding, it was much too bright. I was watching a man. He had pale skin and thin. He wore green and black clothes, along with a black horned helmet. The man was Loki. Somewhat near him was Thor. Thor was quickly pulling ahead though. Something was wrong.

"Brother, no!" shouted Thor. "Grab my hand!" Thor attempted to slow down and grab onto Loki. I couldn't see what was happening.

"You are too far away, idiot," Loki grumbled. "Bet the other idiots on Asgard won't even care that I'm gone." The image in my dream backed up, letting me see a bigger picture. Both men were in a rainbow, which was surrounded by darkness. Loki was getting closer to the edge.

"NO!" screamed Thor, trying to get to Loki. "Stay with me, brother!"

Loki tumbled out of the rainbow, falling into the air. He screamed, falling. The god fell for ages, as Thor was quickly swept up by the rainbow. Soon, the rainbow was gone, and all I could see was Loki falling.

Bang! Loki landed on the dark side of the planet. He struggled, crawling around. Soon, aliens found him. "Look here. What have we found?" an alien asked his friends (allies?). "This one is new. Haven't seen something land in a while." The alien, male I believe, kicked Loki.

"You found an Asgardian," answered the big purple one. "He may be useful. Follow me." They strode over to an area of the planet. The biggest one, not including the purple one, who was most likely the muscle of the group, grabbed one of Loki's feet and dragged him along. The group took him into a building. Maybe a cave. Or some other natural feature that looks like a cave.

What I was seeing could be helpful. Information on baddies. But of course, one will always wake up when they get to the good, interesting, or important part. I don't like it when people unceremoniously wake me up for my slumber. Hopefully, it is for breakfast. If not, I won't be in a good mood. But if it is for breakfast, I think I could excuse whoever decided to wake me up at that horrid hour in the morning. Especially when it was my first night in a year where I was actually able to sleep, and on a decent bed. Not counting the fact I didn't go to bed till after twelve. Really, please don't shine the lights. It hurts.

"Just get up sleepy head! Fury is going to be mad. Plus, do you want to miss breakfast too? We already missed dinner last night," a voice shouted. I'm assuming it was either Agent Barton or Romanoff. "And it was pizza night. I have perfect reasoning to be cross with you." First of all, I'm fine with being woken up, I want breakfast. Second of all, we missed pizza night! I feel bad for whoever gets in my way. I'm gonna be on the warpath. Being made to run at forty miles an hour and miss pizza night? This ain't gonna end well for anyone.

Chapter Text

I shot out of bed. "What did you say about pizza night?" I asked. Being hungry, plus hearing about pizza, it was bound to be the first thing I say. That, and it was pizza night, which was what woke me up. Of course I would want to know more about it!

Turns out, there were two people in the room. Guess my awareness while asleep was a little off. I thought there was only one. And if the other came, they were outside the door or still in the vent. I'll need to work on that. I lifted my head up to face them. Both were staring at me. "Yes, the idiot said pizza night," Agent Romanoff answered. "I still think it was stupid." She was glaring at him. Agent Barton was visibly backing off. Most likely, she was more powerful. Or he was just scared of her. Sort of like how I was scared of Annabeth, despite my being more powerful. Was. I began to mentally break down again. The two of them reminded me too much of us. I shook my head, shaking the thought out of my mind.

That shake of my head reminded me of something. "Hey, Agent Barton, can I call you Clint?" I questioned. "It is annoying to have to think and refer to you as Agent Barton. Clint would be easier." It turned to face Agent Romanoff. "Same for you. Actually, what is your first name? The true one." They both looked at me, then each other.

"I like this kid. He's correct and has his priorities straight. Also, mentioning pizza night wasn't stupid. It woke him up." Agent Romanoff gave him the stink eye. "Oh, I don't care that you somehow dislike pizza." He turned to face me. "I completely agree with you. Call me Clint. I'm gonna call you Percy from now on. Just don't do it out and public. Don't want Fury to yell at us." I nodded in thanks. I wanted to be called Percy, I just didn't mention it. Plus, now I can call him Clint in my head. Agent Barton will be forever pushed out of my mind. Clint turned to look at Agent Romanoff. "Hurry, I want to get out. There are pancakes today."

Pancakes… I hope SHIELD has food like this every day. "Is there any blueberry pancakes?" Clint looked at me with a smile.

Agent Romanoff scowled. "That does not matter. Also, fine. You must refer to me as Agent Romanoff whenever agents other than the three of us are in the room. Mentally and in private, you may refer to me as Natasha."

I did a mental fist pump. Now, I could call them by name! Secondly, I managed to get something out of Natasha! Wait. I gave Clint a questioning look.
"She isn't lying kid. Now, let's go." He scrambled up the rope ladder, which had been left hanging. I followed him up, with Natasha following me. She pulled the rope up after me. Quickly, we scrambled through the vents to the dining hall.

Scrambling around, I managed to halt the older agents before they opened up the vent. "Wait!" I whispered. "We don't want others to access the vent or steal the ladder. We can't leave it hanging." I stared at the offending rope.

"Good job, Jackson," Natasha praised, grumbling. Even without much training, just being here is teaching me spy techniques. "We can take the rope with us. I bet Clint has some grapples. So we could leave the vent open and Clint could grapple up with the rope. Then he could throw it down for the rest of us."

"That sounds solid. And I have many grapples. I think it will be fine for me to use one. Now let's go." I nodded to him. Clint tossed me a screwdriver. "Open it on your own." Good thing I knew how to do that. Spinning the screwdriver, I quickly opened up the vent and moved over the cover. "Nice. Nat, you go last."

I scrambled down the ladder. There were three reasons. One, I wanted to be first. Two, I wanted to get food as soon as possible. Three, I didn't want to get caught in the crossfire. From what I could see, Natasha whipped out a knife. She advanced forward towards Clint. Clint backed away. Scowling, she growled, "Do not call me Nat. You know my full name. Use it." I could tell she was going to hurt him. Badly.

"Stop it you two," I yelled. "You got an audience. Plus, do you what want breakfast?" That made them stop for a second. "Romanoff, put the knife away. Barton, come on down. Romanoff, follow him. Remember, don't close the vent, and bring the ladder with you." At that, I jumped off the end of the ladder with a flip. Purposefully, they let it not go the full way down, leaving it about four feet above the floor. They must have wanted to see more of what I could do. I stared up at the opening to see what happened. Thankfully, they listened to my voice of reason.

"I did want breakfast." Avoiding the raging Black Widow, he scrambled down the ladder. "I'll go get the three of us breakfast. Whaddaya want?"

"Stack of blueberry pancakes, covered in syrup. Water alongside."

"Cool. I already know what Romanoff and I want." With that, he scrambled away to the food line. I watched him go away. It was more efficient for one to go.

Natasha gathered up the ladder. Tucking it away somewhere, she prepared to take the jump. She leaped out of the vent, tucked her body, and somersaulted on the floor. Somehow, she landed without a sound. Myself and some younger agents gaped at her in awe. That was, amazing. I could never do something like that. She noticed me staring. "So you can't do that?" she asked herself. "I'll make sure Barton remembers to train you on that. Being able to run isn't everything." Guess I won't never be able to do something like that. I probably will be able to in five days.

"Uh, well," I started. They didn't know about my heritage. So, they didn't know how I ran. But how was I supposed to pull it off? Wait. From watching the news outside buildings, I have heard of two human-like beings. Now, we had normal humans, mutants, and Inhumans. From what I heard, mutants were born with powers. Inhumans were modified by aliens. I had been born with my powers. The best solution was to say I was a mutant. Done. I could explain my powers. Plus, don't mutants come from your dad's side? My powers came from dad. He was never seen. Great. Now, I just need to think of a cover story. Well, and make sure only Natasha, Clint and Fury find out.

Is SHIELD mutant friendly? Many other thoughts ran through my brain as I created a story. Creating stories were familiar to me after years on the run. "Jackson, are you going to eat your pancakes or not? I've never tried blueberry, so it would be a nice experience." I snapped out of my thoughts. Clint had already come back with pancakes. He was almost done with his food and eyeing mine.

"No," I growled, hugging them protectively. "Their mine." At that, I began to shovel the pancakes down my throat. Minutes later, all six of them were gone. Sadly, I was still a little hungry. Natasha and Clint gave me curious looks. Hey, can a man just like his pancakes? Clint looked at me in awe of my eating skills. Natasha just rolled her eyes. Soon she narrowed them at me questioning. She shook her head like she was going to ignore the incoming question. Whatever it was. Her hand flipped towards Clint and the vent. He understood the silent order. I, on the other hand, did not. But, those two had worked together for a while. It makes sense.

"Follow me," Natasha whispered. I stood up. The other younger agents stared at me in awe. I guess most agents were in awe and scared of the assassins. Working with them must be a privilege granted to no one. Other than me. Clint pulled a hook and rope out of his pocket. He held the rope in one hand and the ladder in another. Taking the rope, he whirled it and the hook around. Then he stopped, throwing the hook up at the vent. Bang. It stuck on, using the suction cup that popped out. There was a button on the rope. Well, the handle had the button.

"Wish me luck," he whispered, before hitting the button.

"He has never landed it yet," Natasha whispered with a smirk. "I love watching him fall on his butt. Especially since he is said to have perfect aim. It is true, except for with his body." He shot through the air. Twisting, he moved so his feet were facing the ceiling. Bending his legs, he hit. Holding the rope tightly, he walked over to the opening and jumped in. After unhooking everything, he threw the rope ladder down. I went up first. Natasha came behind me, pulling the ladder up. Clint tossed me the screwdriver. I closed the vent up. The three of us sat down in it. "That was, well, different." I couldn't say, having never seen him do it before.

"Well, I didn't fall. Actually, I landed. Pass me the money." She handed him ten dollars. Guess they betted on it. This must have been the first time he won.

"Um, guys?" I started. "I got something to tell you."

"A, I'm not a guy. I'm a girl. B, what do you have to tell us," Natasha snapped.

"I need to tell you two and Fury. So, not right now. No one else can know. One question though before we visit him. Is SHIELD mutant friendly?"

Both of them seemed to figure it out. Hopefully, though, they would wait for me to tell them. "Kid. Look at me. SHIELD loves mutants. They are their favorite agents. Seriously. I'm a low level mutant, my eyesight is above human levels. Natasha is an enhanced human, has a super serum type thing. Don't worry." I never knew Clint was good at pep talks. Then again, I never heard him give a pep talk. "Follow me. We got a Fury to visit." We began to scramble through the vent towards Fury's office.

Chapter Text

We ran through the vents, the best we could. Clint was silent. Natasha had a couple of noises made. I tripped a few times and made a lot of noise. Hopefully, I'll get better as I do more. Both of them had a lot more time to practice. This was my second day, barely. A couple turns and minutes later, we were at the opening into Fury's office. As we sat, I began to pace. Nervous was definitely a word to describe me at the moment. Who wouldn't be in my situation? I was to tell a completely fake tale about how I was a mutant, thanks to my mysterious father. To the director of the organization providing me shelter and protection. Along with straight out lying to my only two friends, not counting Blackjack and Mrs. O'leary. Plus, all three of them were living lie detectors. I'm gonna die for lying. Or be kicked out. Either way, it will be bad. Very, very bad. I'm better off giving up right now while I'm ahead.

Clint could see my nervousness. "It will be fine," he reassured. "If you want to be safe, refer to Natasha and me as Agents Romanoff and Barton respectively. Refer to Fury as Director Fury. Not sure how much help it will be, but it might." Seriously? Being polite is your advice? I don't do polite. Ask Zeus if you want more information. He is most likely still mad at me for calling him Uncle Z. It was technically a correct term to refer to him by! Plus, it sounds better than Uncle Zeus. Whatever. Just thank him then get this all over with.

I glanced at Clint, wait, Agent Barton, thankfully and sarcastically. "Thank you." I rolled my eyes in a stereotypical teenage fashion. Hey, I'm technically a teenager. I can pull the look off, unlike adults. When they do it, it's plain creepy except for a couple. "Now, let's do this." Taking the offered screwdriver, I began to open up the vent, relaxing in the common activity. Do you know what would be helpful in this situation? A fidget toy. That might be better than being polite. Whatever. Just be polite, they have been dealing with Fury, sorry, Director Fury for a lot longer than me.

"This takes guts, kid." When Natasha compliments you, you know you are doing good. I'll just hope this is the right decision. Breath in, breath out. Hope they don't decide to murder you.

Clint stole the screwdriver from my hand, Natasha removing the loosened vent cover from its place. I tossed the rope down to the ground, making sure it didn't make noise when it reached the end. Taking the ends, I tied it down so it would stay. Don't question how I found a way to tie it down, you learn some neat and weird tricks when you are a demigod. Agents Romanoff and Barton are amazing. They probably had these things installed around the vents when they joined, assuming they joined at around the same time. But that most likely is not true, I don't think SHIELD goes on recruiting sprees. We climbed down the ladder into Director Fury's office. Breath in, breath out. You got this. If he tries to kill you, you kill him first. I know what I'm doing. I've been fighting for a whole third of my life.

Director Fury slowly stood up out of his chair, giving us an evil look. Probably because we interrupted his conference. That isn't gonna help me. This is making it worse! "Now, what brings you three to my office?" he asked. As he came closer, the woman that was with him in the room flanked him. It was weird that there was another person here, I think. Both Agents Barton and Romanoff took a short breath in. I bet they didn't think there would be another person in here. Then I surveyed the room. It wasn't just the two of them in here. In the room were Director Fury, mystery girl, and a mystery guy. Wonder why the guy decided to sit out. Thought the two of them could handle it, didn't wanna get out of his seat. The guy sent a sort of smile at my friends. Guess they know him. And he doesn't know me.

"Who are they?" I whispered to Agent Barton on my left.

"Girl is Agent Hill, third in command. Male is Agent Coulson, second in command. He is both mine and Romanoff's handler. One you know is Director Fury, first in command." Okay. We got important people in here. They must have been working on something. We must have interrupted them. Shoot! You know, we could do this another day. That might make it easier. Important people can go back to their meeting, we can leave the room. I'm ready to bolt.

"Should we-"

"No," Agent Romanoff cut me off. "We keep it between us four. Don't care how high ranked they are. Also, don't bolt. We hold our ground." Agent Barton shot her a glare for the comment, then nodded in agreement. Guess that was decided. Don't tell them. Also, how did she know that? They will so see through my lying, just how they can tell what I wanna do. This is not gonna end well, both for me and for them.

"Okay, I'm done with your conversation between the three of you. What do you lot want?" Great way to break into a conversation. I'll make sure to remember that. That technique is Director Fury approved, make sure to use it whenever possible in SHIELD.

Glances were shot around the three of us. The decision, with a two to one vote, was for me to talk. I wanted one of the more experienced agents to talk, guess they wanted me to try and speak up. "I have something to tell you," I informed him, taking a deep breath. I glanced at Hill and Coulson. "But it was decided by the three of us to only tell you." I took another deep breath and glanced at the other two. I wasn't sure what to do. Along with uncomfortable. Oh, why did I listen to Agent Romanoff and not bolt? My instincts have saved me many times. But, only if I listen to them. Otherwise, I get in trouble. Big trouble. Like, I am about to die but somehow Annabeth saves my butt kind of trouble. Plus, you don't talk like that to people that have guns and know how to use them.

"Suck up," Agent Barton told me silently, just moving his lips. I nodded. Don't like those kids, but sometimes you need to act it for the greater good. Also, I'm supposed to listen to him. Despite not really wanting to.

"If you wish though, we can wait for this meeting to be over." That got me a slight nod of approval from both of them, a slightly larger one from Agent Barton. It must be going well so far. Director Fury looked at his earlier guests. They seemed to have a silent conversation. Which is pretty cool, if you ask me. It's not like they could use family powers of awesomeness like myself and my mom could use communicate. Or they consider themselves family. Well, SHIELD does not seem like it houses sentimental people, so most likely they do not consider themselves family. But super secret spies can easily communicate silently.

"I will meet with you three now." At that he turned around to face the others. "Maria, Phil, we'll continue this meeting later. At that, they nodded and walked out of the room. Using the door. Seems they weren't crazy, unlike my group. I always associate myself with crazy people. I really should stop doing that, now that I think about. Eh, don't really want to take my chances and find normal people, as I am not normal. They would reject me, unlike crazy people who welcome me as if I'm an old friend. Guess I'll stick with them.

"Do you have a secure room?" Natasha questioned. "We don't want anyone finding out." Director Fury nodded and gestured at us to follow him. He led us to the back of his room. Both agents smiled, seemingly recognizing the room. "Open it." He directed that at me. But what was I to open? I see nothing. "Search." What?

Okay. That was weird. But I should listen. So I fell to my knees, searching for something. "When you need it, it should appear," Agent Romanoff whispered.

"Harry Potter," Agent Barton added. Agent Romanoff just rolled her eyes at it. Harry Potter. Harry Potter. I remembered Annabeth talking about him once. Said something that he looked like and acted like me. I paced in front of the wall three times, trying to figure it out. "He did it! And on accident." What did I do? I hope I am not in trouble again. That would be bad. Very bad.

"Good. It must know it is needed." A door had appeared from behind a curtain of dust. "You must open it," Director Fury ordered me. Okay, that's simple enough. Maybe. This whole thing is weird. I pulled at the door. It opened with no resistance. In the room it opened up into was a table with four chairs. Great.

"It's secure, right?" All of them rolled their eyes at me in unison. Guess it is secure and they are annoyed with my ignorance. Even better. Can I have good luck for a change? Or does demigod luck continue forever? Actually, I'm surprised that there has not been a monster attack yet. Never has left me alone for long. Special barriers?

"Most secure thing in the world," Agent Romanoff barked. "Now enter!" I scrambled to get into the room, knowing I had to. I plopped down on one of the chairs. "Also, don't worry about formality now. Once in this room, you are good."

That is nice to know. Now, I probably should get started. "Okay, so you all know my father is missing and unknown, correct?" They all nodded. "So, turns out he is a mutant or carrier of the X-gene. It was activated in me. I got the powers, well, it's hard to explain. You know of Poseidon, correct?" They nodded again. "My powers are the same as his, except on a lesser scale. I went to a hidden camp for mutants since I was twelve. On my seventeenth birthday though, there was an attack, and everyone there died and the camp was destroyed. Except for me. I lived, and have been on the run since." That was the basics of the story. I had more prepared in case the asked. I hope they all believe me. Living lie detectors, they were. I don't think I should be able to pass through them. Wait, calm down, they might not pick it up. Getting nervous will make it easier for them to tell that I'm lying. At least it is a half truth. That might grant me better luck.

"Fine. Can you control these powers?" Fury asked. Wait, what? You know what, I'm not gonna question this miracle.

"Yes. Perfectly. That was how I was able to run like that last night. I just needed to get my finger wet to replenish my energy. I learned that on the run." They all nodded, as if it made perfect sense. It probably did to them. Nice. I was excepted, I think. But affirmation from Fury was needed.

"Up him to level two. Don't let anyone know he is a mutant. Once he gets control on guns, bring him back so he can be promoted to a field agent." And that was that. I got approved, and bumped up a level. Nice. Now, I hope I can use a gun. I'm most likely still hopeless with a bow and arrow though. Clint might make me try it. That won't end well for me, him, and anyone near us. I think the curse still exists, despite the twin archers being gone. Still don't know why they did not release me from the curse since I was friends with both of them. Guess that is how gods work.

"Let's go. We need to get you a new pass," Clint grumbled, but I could tell he was pretty happy. "Natasha, do you want to do guns. Or should I? I could teach him how to shoot, but you are probably better at assigning him a gun, figuring out what will work for him." As he talked we walked out of the room and to Fury's office.

As we climbed the ladder, Natasha relayed her answer to him. "I'll train him on guns. But I would like your assistance." She got a nod in response. "Good."

We picked up the ladder and began to scramble through the vents again. Clint led, like usual. He knew the vents the best. Probably has had the most time to explore them. I wonder if anyone else other than us uses the vents. Then again, I'm pretty sure Clint and Natasha are SHIELD's only assassins.

"Let's get your new badge, kid."

Chapter Text

The words Clint said echoed through the vents, as if many people were all telling it to me at once. Sound waves rocketed through, messing up air currents. Mental note for pranking, sneaking around and other things: Small noise in vents equals lots of echoes, sentence or big noise in vents equals a really big amount of echoes. That is really surprising that this is my first mental note, despite my two awake days in SHIELD. I really should start taking way more mental notes and make some mental maps and trees.

I must have stopped or slowed down, as I felt someone wack me. Most likely Natasha, since she was behind me while Clint was in front. "Hurry it up," she hissed. "We are falling behind." I grabbed my flashlight and pointed it forwards, all while scrambling halfheartedly through the vents.

Clint was way ahead, perhaps ten feet. He didn't notice our lagging behind and kept crawling through the vents at a steady pace. I did a weird combination of crawling and running. Thankfully though, it worked and I caught up to Clint. Sadly, it made a lot of noise, so everyone could hear my obvious horrible vent crawling skills. I had to do it perfectly. Very easily they could take away my level up.

"Why exactly do I need to be level two?" I asked, truly curious. "Why can I not practice guns first?" Clint stopped, as if he was going to give me a full lecture in the middle of the vents. Then he nodded to Natasha, as if to give her the floor.

"Simple. You need to be level two to access guns and other weapons, outside of ones you bring yourself. The ones you bring yourself must be approved for you to still have them. So in order to move on, you need to be level two. Research people usually stay as a level one since there is no need for them to handle weapons." Natasha is rarely not blunt with her answers, just like she did right now. Straight, to the point, no sugar coating. It was actually a fairly good explanation, one I liked a lot. It made sense and my ADHD brain didn't even zone out.

There was an awkward silence of sitting there. All three of us started shooting glances around at once. Both of them were perfectly still other than their eyes while doing so. Both my feet were tapping and fingers drumming. "ADHD. Can we get a move on?" Both of them nodded. We took off again through the vents.

After a couple of twists and turns, all of which were added to my mental map, we came to the place where badges were made. Like always, I unscrewed the vent cover. Clint removed it, while Natasha put the screwdriver away to wherever she kept it. Natasha grabbed the rope, as if she was going to throw it. "I'm not needed here. Clint is technically Percy's only handler, I'm just helping, which I am allowed to do as your partner. I will stay here." Both of us nodded in response. Seeing that she was able to stay up alone, she threw down the rope. "I'll see you soon." Both of us climbed down the rope. Once we were off, she pulled it back in, leaving the vent open, as if for a quick escape. That is probably a good idea.

A woman walked over to the two of us, smiling. "Hello, Clint." She looked down at my badge. "And Agent Jackson," she greeted. "What do you need us to do for you today." I gave Clint a panicked look. He just sent a smirk in response.

"Nothing for me, Shara," Clint told her in an amiable tone. "We are here for Agent Jackson. I am his handler, have you heard?" Small talk? Really?

"You finally got to be a handler. Both you and Agent Romanoff are overdue. I assume she is helping you?" As she talked, she grabbed my badge, taking it off me.

I almost went to steal it back, before Clint put his hand out to stop me. "Take it easy. She is fine." He turned back towards the woman. "Yes, Agent Romanoff is helping me." Shara seemed to have growled a little bit there. "Now, we just got orders from Fury to up my prodigy up from a level one to a level two. Percy Jackson, Clint Barton, Level Two."

"You got it." She brought the badge over to a computer and began to type. After a couple of seconds, she left the computer and headed over to a machine. Bang! My old badge hit the metal garbage can, before going in. I guess she through the badge while I was distracted. Shara opened up the machine. In it was my new badge. "Catch," she called. I turned around. The badge was flying towards my head. At that point, my demigod instincts took over. My arms moved of their own accord, grabbing the badge and bringing it in. That really shouldn't have been a cause for an adrenaline rush. I took the badge and pulled it over my head.

Boom, boom. Someone was banging something, most likely metal. "Wait for a second," Clint answered whoever was knocking. He turned towards me. "Let's go." I stared at him for a second. Then, he seemed to realize something. "Oh. Wait." He pulled a small, metal washer out of his pocket. He threw it at the point the noise was coming from. Bing! A perfect hit. Clint aimed up at the ceiling again. This time, the washer didn't come down or make a sound. Instead, it went through the opening and then into what I presume would be someone's hands. Natasha's hands. Otherwise, it would have made a sound as it hit the bottom of the vent. Either way, it got a message across.

"Perfect accuracy. Just like always, Clint. You will always be the best marksman in the world, no need to show off. Even without a bow and arrow."

The rope went down and both of us went climbing up it. "You got the badge?"

"Yep. Let's go." As we closed the vent, he called behind us, "Bye, and thanks, Shara." At that, Natasha's mood went from amiable, to calm and neutral, to raging mad. She was able to quickly put her emotions back in place, settling into a calm and collected look. I would bet all my money that she dislikes Shara. That wouldn't be much though. I have almost no money. Actually, I'm not sure. Checking all of my supplies in my backpack should go onto my to-do list.

"Shara… did she just do the job? Or, something more?" My brain went into overdrive. Was Natasha thinking that Shara was flirting with Clint, saying that she had in the past? If we take that as fact, what else? Wait, Natasha spoke with a jealous tone about Shara and went raging mad. I can put the pieces together now, unlike when I was fifteen. Or maybe it is just when it involves me. I could easily read other relationships then. Anyway, Natasha likes Clint, that can be seen. At least, if you have my level of social skills and people brain. My point is, for me it was clear and easy to see. For someone that isn't good with people, it would be unnoticeable. Now, back on track, ADHD brain. Shara has flirted with Clint, triggering Natasha's jealousy. Clint, just like I did with Rachel and Annabeth, had no clue what was going on between the girls. Good, that makes sense. It is simple enough for my brain to handle at least.

I crawled over to Natasha and singled at her to move away from Clint and come towards me. "Love triangle?" I questioned, genuinely curious. Learning more about people is always helpful, especially when those two people are your only human friends at the moment. Wow, now I feel very, very sad for myself. I really need to make some more friends. Put that in my mental notes, make more friends.

"Love is for children," she remarked, scoffing. "Why would I need it? The Black Widow is never jealous." At that, she turned and began to crawl away. The third person talking though is a sign of trying to convince oneself. I know I have been affected by it many times. She has to be lying, plus, she avoided the question, not giving an answer. It is denial, that just proves my point.

Remembering my first quest and fight with Ares, I asked, "Who said anything about jealousy?" Ah, that line brings up memories from when we asked Ares about how none of us said anything about dreams. Now, those were good times, too bad both Annabeth and Grover are dead. Wait a second, she is about to go crazy on me. I hate it when girls do that, they are just so scary. Annabeth always pulled that on me, Reyna too once she met me. She turned around to face me. I'm about to die!

"Never say anything." She pulled out a knife from a hidden sheath. "Or I will gut you like a fish." Ouch. That hit really close to home for me. With my father, I am practically part fish. I can talk to them. So please, do not make remarks about killing them. I mimed zipping up my lips and throwing the key away. "Good. Let's move, time to train."

Chapter Text

Natasha and I scrambled back over to Clint. "What were you two doing?" he asked, a slight bit of jealousy seeping into his voice. "You know, anything you need to say can be said to me, right?" Shoot, I wasn't thinking of how Clint was feeling with all of this. Based on the jealousy, he likes her too, just being oblivious to the situation with Shara. I remember that from before Annabeth and I got together. I was jealous of people being with her, she was jealous of others near me. I had no clue that she liked me back, she thought I didn't because of the other girls I hung out with. Being alone with Natasha was a sure way to rile Clint up. At least it helped me figure out the feelings they both were mutual. It also gave me blackmail for both of them, both were prone to jealousy about the other. Sadly, they most likely have been trained to not respond to taunts and jealousy, so that won't help me very much.

As I opened my mouth to form an excuse, Natasha sent a harsh glare at me. I could almost feel the daggers hitting me, killing me slowly. I never liked daggers, many monster and Annabeth have used to harm me, way too many times. Plus, her glare was on par with Thalia, Annabeth, and Reyna's. Mine and Nico's were better, Nico being a child of the underworld, myself naturally, along with my training from Lupa. "I asked him to come closer to me so I could begin to size him up for a gun. My executive decision would be that it would be easier to do without someone close by, namely you. During my second run through it, in the light near guns, I will have your input." Wow, that was a pretty solid reason. I hope that Natasha was also doing that as well, since, without proof and evidence, any lie will fall apart. That's why the Hermes cabin always told me to use half-truths whenever I could. But even if she didn't, she was probably good enough to do it on one go, never mind having to do it twice, once with a small light in a dark tunnel.

"Understandable. I know next to nothing about guns when compared to you. But are you sure we shouldn't try a bow?" I stared at him in shock. Did he really want to have me use a bow? Clint was there when I stated that I was terrible with a bow. Plus, he was good at telling if someone lies. He should know that I was telling the truth. With a gun though, it is a fresh start and might end up okay. I'm not sure though, long-range weapons have never been my strong suit. Possible throwing knives could be used, but those don't have the range or power of a gun or bow and arrow. Never mind that, it was a terrible lie now that I think of it. Why in Hades would you try and figure out a gun for a person in almost total darkness, especially when you are in a somewhat cramped vent? Maybe Clint was overestimating Natasha, just a bit.

Natasha slapped me in the face. "Come back to the real world," she growled, hopefully playfully. Lowering her voice she said, "Do not underestimate my skills. Clint has seen me do this, and it has saved our lives." I never can really tell how she means her words when she speaks. I'm also not sure if she could tell I was doubting her, or if it was just to reassure me all will go well. Natasha quickly interrupting my mulling over my thoughts. "Based on the looks he was giving you of disbelief, I do not believe having him handle a bow and arrow is the best idea." I quickly nodded, agreeing with her statements. Clint attempted to give me puppy dog eyes, but my puppy dog eyes happened to be better, so I wouldn't fall for it. Looking back on when I first met them, Natasha had guns, while Clint had a quiver of arrows on his back, holding his bow for if he needed to shoot. Natasha must me more modern, using guns, while Clint for some reason got attached to bows. Maybe since I used swords, he would think I would go for the old fashioned ranged weapon as well. I knew I was going to disappoint him with my next sentence.

"Natasha is correct, Clint. I have not had experience with a gun, so I might be able to use it. From when I tried archery at camp, I failed miserably. Even in perfect form, the arrows would fly backward and anywhere I didn't want them. I told you I was terrible at archery already." That was a complete truth there, and I bet both of them knew it, even though they could not see my face. Clint sighed in defeat, while Natasha gave me a small smile. It was as if they had been betting whether I would pick guns or bows. I had picked guns, so Natasha had won. Also, it meant for weapons, Natasha would be my main teacher, despite Clint being my handler. It must be a bitter defeat for Clint, and an easy win for Natasha. Despite her not knowing that I couldn't shoot arrows for my life, it was still an easy win. Clint really should have known ahead of time that I would choose guns. He just must be protecting and avenging his weapons honor, which many people must have scoffed at. I wouldn't though, having seen havoc wrecked by monsters, Artemis's hunters, and Apollo's children using bows and arrows. Now really, those fart arrows are cheating in capture the flag games. Plus, my cousin went from hating and calling the hunters cheaters for using them, to becoming one and having fifty blow up in my face. Stupid Thalia, stupid fart arrows, stupid cheating hunters. Clint though broke me from my musing very quickly though.

"Fine, whatever. Follow me if you want to go to the weapons room. Well, the beginners' weapons room. We have a bigger and better room for specialized weapons. Like some of my more advanced arrows and Natasha's Widow's Bite." As soon as Clint finished speaking, he began to disappear into the vents, not bothering to wait. He must be sour, not wanting to have to deal with us, especially me, since I didn't pick his weapon.

"Hurry. If he isn't having people following him, he moves fast. It would take me a bit to find our way," Natasha whispered. At that, both of us shot off like a bullet in pursuit of Clint. As we moved, Natasha pulled something out of her SHIELD utility belt. "Press the C. It will show a map towards Clint. The device is a heat sensor but it is attached and tracks only certain signatures. Top SHIELD and Stark tech, very helpful on missions. Also coded so people without permission can't use if activated. There is a maximum of five people programmed on there. Clint and I both have two coded in. Each other and our handler. We need to program you in and get you one soon." She tossed the device back at me. "Just to help us keep track. Shout out a direction if we go the wrong way." I began to move only on three limbs, two feet, and an arm. My other arm was focused on the device. The second I was able to, I pressed the C. I would have no clue when I would have a chance to do so again. Still, it was hard to both keep track and be a backseat navigator, literally, while limping through vents on three limbs. Natasha really should be the one doing this, she has more training going through vents on three limbs. Then again, both her and Clint would retort, "It is for training purposes. Now move it!"

"Next left," I shouted. Natasha got my message and began to speed up. Scrambling I moved, trying as hard as I could. It is hard to run through the vents on three limbs, you know. At the next left, she slid into the passage. Moving faster, I caught up. "Slow down. I'm running on three limbs." She slowed, a bit. It was still very hard to keep up. It would probably be harder if we were trying to keep up with Clint. Wait, we were. I'm going to fail at this, I wish I had water.

"Put in a pocket. Straight from here." Taking her advice, I put the device in one of my pants pockets. Both of us crawled at full speed, the vent version of sprinting. It really should be an Olympic sport. I could see Clint crawling ahead of us. At full speed though, with motivation, we caught up to Clint right as he got to the vent opening. The three of us sat down, panting after the long vent chase. Clint was panting noticeably less than myself and Natasha, Natasha a little bit less than me. Mental note, racing through vents isn't fun and is tiring.

"Good job. How did you catch up?" He asked, stealing the screwdriver from Natasha. He began to open up the vent. Wait a second, was that whole vent chase a training exercise? They are worse than Lupa and her wolves!

"Heat sensor." Clint froze, then turned to Natasha. He stopped opening the vent as he talked.

"We should get other gear, then go do weapons." She seemed to consider it. After a couple of moments, she nodded. Clint began to screw the vent cover back on. "Gear up. I'll help Percy when I'm ready. We can walk and scare some newbies. Then equip Percy." The duo smiled evilly, fully creeping me out. Another mental note, don't make them mad, they seem like they would be good at getting revenge. Thinking about it, I really shouldn't get on their bad sides in the first place, as they are the ones in charge of me. Also, they are master assassins or professional killers. Depends on your point of view. Mine is I don't want to die, so it doesn't matter. Both are killers, so let's not get them mad. I would rather be unhappy and alive, instead of tortured and killed by trained professionals at that. Plus, they know about my powers, so they can put me in a desert, or not give me a toilet and a shower, leaving me at no access to water. If in a desert, there is very little water vapor as well.

While I was lost in thought, we arrived at the vents over our rooms. "I'll meet you two in Percy's room, alright?" Both of us quickly nodded, sensing the fake sweetness in her tone. It is the tone that tells you that if you don't agree, I won't be afraid to put you in a body bag and bury you alive. Oh, bad thoughts Percy! Don't focus on all the ways she could kill you with her pinky. I just hope she doesn't arrive in the room while I'm naked.

"Just wait in your room for me. From there I will help you out." At that, he dropped into his room, Natasha quickly doing the same. All they succeeded in doing with that was creeping me out. Whatever, Percy. Focus on that later, focus on not dying or having Natasha walk in on me naked right now. Wait a moment, that is what is freaking me out! Stupid ADHD, just gets in my minds way. I dropped into my room. I took a look around my room for the first time. The only things I discovered was that it was very empty. The only things in the giant room were my bed and the places for my pets. Most likely something will be done about that later. All that was in the room was my bag and bandanna, which I emptied nothing out of. In the closet, there were no clothes. All I had to wear was in my backpack. Which in reality, contained six bundles, which were a blue T-shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of socks. The seventh bundle of clothes I was rearing right now. Since I didn't want to show SHIELD the powers of my backpack, I ended up sitting on the bed, playing thumb war with myself. I would continue to do that until someone came for me.

"So, are you ready?" Clint asked as he entered my room, unnoticed till he spoke. That was bad, really bad. I can't have people sneaking up on me now, it would me monsters could too. Even though most monsters are noisy, especially when compared to an assassin. Then again, there are some weird ones, and the monsters keep evolving and becoming more powerful.

Chapter Text

Stunned, I turned around to look at him. It made no sense to me how he could have snuck up on me. There had to be a reason why he could sneak up on me, most likely within his clothes. An outside source stopping me from noticing his entering. My senses cannot start to fail on me because there are no monsters around. Most likely, they are just biding their time and are about to attack. So, when I saw his clothes, there was one tiny little problem. His clothes were nothing special in terms of helping someone sneak, though they would be good for protecting him. He had a long sleeve black shirt with a bulletproof vest on top. He wore padded black pants, most likely made with a bulletproof material, or something else that helped protect him. Now, where the problem I had was with his shoes, the part that helps the most with sneaking up on people. The shoes he was wearing were nothing special in terms of sneaking around. In fact, they were just black combat boots, with a compartment on the bottom if what I was seeing was correct. Wait a second, I think I see something. I took a closer look at the bottom of his shoes. The boots were padded, which made it hard to hear him come in! It reassured me in my skills, that they were not wearing away, seeing as I was in a monster free place. I still don't understand why no monster has ever come here though.

"So, you ready?" Clint asked, throwing a sword sheath at me. "Uncap that sword and place it in the sheath. After that-" He threw an empty utility belt at me. "-put this on." I stared at him, confused. His next sentence made me wonder if he had the ability to read minds. "It is all I can get for you right not. You will be fitted and given equipment where we are going."

"Okay?" I responded, still not sure what was going on. What was he talking about by equipment? Did he mean give me clothes? A uniform? One of those heat sensor things and a screwdriver? This made no sense whatsoever.

"Don't play dumb, I can hear the questioning tone. We had forgotten to get you the things you will need, especially things you will need if you become of a field agent, Like, myself and Natasha. When Natasha gets here, we will get you some equipment and update ours. With the added bonus of scarring newbies." He smiled, as if scarring people was his favorite past time, torturing being the second. Maybe the reason why monsters don't visit the SHIELD base is because the mortals here scarred them off. That is hard to believe, there is no way to beat them without godly metals. Well, unless you use your fist, doing hand to hand fighting. The agents here seemed pretty good at that, plus, their scientists might have created something. Huh, I probably should look into that. Make sure that humans have not recreated godly metals or other things similar to that. Brain, mental note, try to figure out why there are no monsters.

Clint and I sat down on my bed, both of us bored. I'm just glad he didn't decide to pick something in my room and use it for target practice with his bow and arrows. The bow was complex, seeing that is was a very advanced recurve bow. The quiver of arrows, in my opinion, was more advanced and had more types of arrows than the hunters or Apollo kids ever had. Or use any of the dangerous things he could have hidden around in his utility belt. "Thumb war?" I questioned, wondering if he wanted to play. I used it while bored before, it would be better with someone else. Also, I can't stay still and do this any longer. Stupid ADHD, stopping me from being able to sit still. It also makes me go on mental tangents, gets distracted, and even more. Just like right now.

His humming stopped, which was probably what he did when bored and needed to stay still. Maybe SHIELD agents are supposed to hum to stop themselves and keep quiet on missions. It seems like a good idea, seeing that humming is pretty normal. Interesting theory, but probably not true. I wonder what they are going to have me do to stop me from getting distracted on missions. Clint decided to interrupt my internal tangent, which was probably a good thing. "Sure," he responded sticking out his right hand, ready to wrestle with it. "Why not?"

Both of us started wrestling with our thumbs, neither winning nor losing. We were pretty equal when it came to thumb wars. Then, out of thin air came Natasha, flipping down from the vents. She was silent and aerodynamic, probably due to the black catsuit, which was most likely aerodynamic and bulletproof. The combat boots she was wearing, which were exactly like Clint's, must have not helped nor hindered the aerodynamics of her body. Somehow, the utility belt she wore did not hold her back. What mainly surprised me was that nothing fell out of the black belt. Taking a closer look at both of them, I saw that both utility belts had black covers covering every pocket. "Nice thumb war you have going. But it is time to break it up, so we can go get Percy his equipment. Plus, scare the newbies." Well, that settles it. We were going to walk through the halls, which we never had before. I would have to trail behind the two crazies, dressed to show off, embarrass me, and scare the newbies. Why did I have to have those two? Right, they found me and were due for being a handler. Great. Also, were both of them obsessed with scarring and showing off to the newbies, who most likely aren't as new as me. Something is wrong with both of them. Then again, something is wrong with everyone.

The two of them smiled, then began to pull me through the door, knowing I'd protest. "Follow us, and be silent," Clint whispered what I would hope would be helpful advice. Taking a deep breath, I began to follow the two assassins through the halls of SHIELD. I knew it wasn't going to end well.

Thankfully though, the first five halls were empty and silent. As far as I knew, we were the only three there. In the sixth hall, it was mainly older people, so they could care less, having seen them many times before. Plus, they most likely have been at SHIELD for longer and were at a higher level than the two famous level seven and six agents I was with. I'm pretty sure the only reason why they were famous was because they are the only two assassins. Then again, it might have to do with their past before SHIELD as well. While I was lucky the first six times, I was due for some bad luck, coming in the form a hall seven and eight. Halls seven and eight were near the mess hall, and there is always some newbies over there, at least, whenever it is open, like right now. It was bound to get messy at the mess hall, or at least have some newbies staring at the three of us. Wait a second. Mess hall, food fight, distraction! "Can I go grab an apple and some crackers. I would like a snack, get my energy up for all of this?" I asked nicely, with no smirk showing my intent. For all they knew, I was hungry and would like some food, which was perfectly normal. Except, the plan for all of this food was to cause a food fight and a distraction.

"Sure," Clint answered. "But we want to come to." Both of them smirked evilly. Great, that means I will need to start the food fight earlier than planned. Both would instantly gain attention from all the people eating and gossiping in there. But my plan should work out all right, at least, as well as that dam food fight Grover started at Hoover Dam. I smiled and chuckled to myself, earning a weird look from Clint and Natasha.

"Fine, you can accompany me," I reluctantly told them, knowing they would come anyway, no matter what I said. "But this is a fast in, fast out sort of mission." Both nodded seriously, and we slipped inside. After counting to five, I sprinted away from them to the line for food, hoping they wouldn't follow. Then again, it wouldn't matter, since they wouldn't be able to follow me do to people crowding around them. "A container with ten warm potatoes in it," I ordered. "A water bottle too." I scanned my badge on the scanner. That was to keep track of what people ate, I think. The woman there nodded, sending orders to the back. Soon, the food was in my hands. Quickly, I drank all the water, refreshing my body. Thank the gods for my water powers, it helps with almost everything. Plus, with it, I can actually thank the gods, since it came from the gods, more specifically my father. I never thought about it that way before. Interesting.

Scanning the room, I could see almost everyone surround Clint and Natasha. A couple of older people near the edge of the room, along with some of the scientists who could care less about assassins didn't bother greeting them. But all the people would make it even harder to get them out, or even get to them. Guess I'll have to start the food fight right now, just to get near. Going to a blind spot where no one could see me, I took my first potato out of the container. I through it across the room into the mob near Clint and Natasha. As it landed, I called in the deepest voice I could manage, "FOOD FIGHT!" then spirited away. Going to different areas of the room, I repeated it three more times. Now, I only had six potatoes remaining and the mess hall was in chaos. Food was flying everywhere, and no one was paying attention to Clint or Natasha. I ran towards them, ignoring the chaos I caused, dodging the flying food. Grabbing their hands, I pulled them out of the mess hall and through a few more halls until I found an empty one. Hopefully, it was close to where we had to go.

Both Clint and Natasha glared at me, probably upset that I ruined their plans of my torture. Soon though, they stopped glaring. Clint took off, looking around the hall, most likely trying to figure out where we were. He knew the building better than the rest of us, which was probably why Natasha was left to berate me. That and Natasha is scarier then Clint, not for lack of trying on Clint's part. Natasha is just naturally scary like Nico and I are. Hazel and Bianca probably could have been as scary as us, but neither really had time to mature into being as scary as he was, Bianca dying, Hazel being too sweet and young. "You are not supposed to run away from us, disobey us, or anything like that," she scolded me. Then, her expression changed, from glaring, evil and disappointed, to happy and proud. "But… what you did there was great for if we were on a real mission. A diversion, escaping the unknown, everything there. You have some skills on that part, which is good for if we can't easily escape quietly. Neither Clint nor I are that good at diversions, as usually, we are not in the shadows and not caught. That, and usually instead of distractions and diversions, we leave with bodies on the floor. But sometimes, knocking out and death is not wanted by SHIELD, so what you did would be very useful." After her whole speech was over, she shut down, like she used her maximum word quota for the day. Wow, ADHD does wonders for the imaginations and crazy analogies.

"He has a great sense of direction though," Clint shouted from across the hall. "This is the door we want to go through." He pointed at the door he was standing in front of. "Come on!" Not feeling like waiting, Clint began to open the door. Now is it a door of doom and death, or a good door?

Chapter Text

We ran to catch up with Clint, who was halfway through the small black door. Natasha and I dived through, not bothering to look first as we didn't want to lose him. Hopefully, he had looked first and would have told us if there was danger inside. Well, if it is harmless danger, it doesn't really matter, but deadly danger might be a bit of a problem. Then again, he could just be hiding in an area where we could not see him, before where the danger starts, leaving us to run straight into it. That would be really bad, as SHIELD seems like the type to a deadly danger, not harmless danger. I wonder if that is the sort of prank he would play, seeing that I have not known him for a long time, so I can't be certain. To be safe, I really should ask Natasha what sort of pranks Clint plays, and vice versa. Just like in the saying better safe than sorry. Though that doesn't really apply to my life that much, seeing as I am diving through an unknown door.

Diving through an unknown door. Schist, I really need to work on not getting distracted by these things, unless I feel like dying. Which I really don't, seeing that dying really is not on my to do list, otherwise, I would have done so much earlier instead of waiting so long. In fact, I kind of like living, especially since now I don't know what the afterlife is like, seeing that Uncle Hades's version of it is most likely gone down the drain. So I can't know if it is heaven, hell, or something in between, seeing as I have not visited the underworld, which used to be the afterlife, after the gods disappeared. I'm really lucky to have lived now that I think about it, I have visited the underworld about five times. Wait a moment, now I'm distracted again. Seriously, I know ADHD is supposed to help with my battle reflexes, but right now it is making it worse because I'm distracted. Super duper schist is probably the situation right now for me, seeing that the two assassins might be a little mad. Most likely, they will be mad like Annabeth does when I get distracted on quests or during fights, which is that she almost kills me. The assassins probably could care less if I die and have experience killing mortals. By my old Greek gods, I'm gonna die!

Natasha's hand came flying down towards my head, ending with a powerful slap, its force and power even greater due to the momentum and feeling behind it. "You idiot," she scolded, before hitting me on the head again. I really think she is trying to give me permanent brain damage, and I only have a few cells left. She is going to get rid of all the academic smarts I managed to retain, which is almost none, and get rid of my street and people smarts, which is what I rely on to live. "Paying attention is a must if you dive into things." She punched me five times, hitting each arm twice, then dealt a deadly blow to my stomach. It hurt like Hades, but thankfully not as much as the River Styx. "You would have overshot if I did not stop you from running farther." After kneeing me in the stomach, she sent a thumbs up to someone behind and above me. Wait, Clint had his bow and arrows on and I couldn't see him. I knew I would be in deep trouble with the two assassins. Well, hopefully, they decide not to murder me and let me go down to Hades saving someone or something, possibly of old age, though I do not think that would be possible.

Something hit me in the back of my head, creating a quiet "Pow!" sound, sort of like you see in the comics. Then, with a thud, the thing, most likely arrow, fell to the ground. Wanting to no what it was, I turned around and took a closer look. Picking it up, I noticed it was a boxing glove arrow, which is an arrow with a boxing glove as its tip. That's interesting, I never though SHIELD would be the type of agency to have boxing glove arrows, but I bet they are useful for some things. I know they exist, having seen the Party Ponies using them before, but it made no sense. Boxing glove arrows were crazy weapons fit for the Party Ponies, not for an agent of a top secret and serious government agency.

Clint jumped down from the pipe in the shadows he was sitting on and strode over to us, starting to speak. "Nat is-" was all Clint got through before he was interrupted by a knife at his throat. "Fine 'Tasha, I won't call you Nat!" he exclaimed, exasperated by her hate of nicknames. For that nickname, he got another knife pointed at all males' weak spot. I definitely did not want to be him right now, Natasha probably killed men like him in her sleep. "Okay, okay," he shouted in fear. "I won't call you by any nicknames unless you say I can." I smirked, seeing an opportunity to prank Clint in exchange for the door trick. Wait, the door trick was probably a test, I must have failed it, so they are going to wipe my mind, give me amnesia, and send me out into the open. That would be horrible, as I liked it here, made some friends, gained good food, will make some money, plus, there are no monsters. Though if I get to stay and can activate the prank, I would have to wait for when myself and Natasha are alone. It would be worth the wait, provided Natasha listens to my request instead of outright denying it.

Slowly and steadily, Natasha pulled the two knives back and placed them in their sheaths, ready to be used at a moments notice. With how she was moving, she looked more like a snake than a spider, but who am I to question her choice of codename? My naming abilities are terrible, though I'm pretty good at creating insulting nicknames for monsters. Over the past year, I have probably created thousands of them while fighting for my life. Annabeth told me that strength has to bow to brains at one point, and for me, how I trick monsters is by distracting them with insults. Makes them rage, so they get stronger but dumber. Of course, it doesn't help with monsters like old beef head, who is all strength and no brains, but it works amazingly on Empousai. Usually, though, it helps. Natasha spoke up, interrupting my train of thoughts, ordering Clint to continue what he was saying with her full name, along with sending a couple of well hidden insults in her words and tone of voice.

"Natasha," he began, sending a not-so-subtle glare at her, "is right and you should have payed more attention. Now, let's be done with the scolding and get moving!" Clint stood from his perch in the shadow, jumped down and walked over to the dark gab I would have fallen through if Natasha did not pull me down. Opening up one of his utility belts pockets, he grabbed a flashlight and turned it on. Facing me, he explained, "Safety precaution in order to make sure these areas aren't breached. You only can access it through a special light which you can only find in this area. Each light is coded into the owners DNA as an extra precaution." Turning around, he returned to searching for the light, Natasha joining him with a light of her own.

Working together, the two soon found a very thin, rusted metal bridge. "Do we have to cross it?" I asked worriedly. I only received a nod in response. Deciding to go first, Natasha danced across the small bridge, barely touching. She looked like a gymnast, a dancer, with her amazing balance. With how easily she crossed, I would believe it if you told me she had crossed it walking on her hands.

Whispering, Clint told me, "She was a dancer before she became an assassin at a young age and where she became an assassin they had to dance. If you want more information, ask her yourself." The second he finished speaking he grabbed a grappling arrow and aimed. When I looked at where he was looking, I noticed a very, very, small target with arrow holes in it. Twang went the bow as he released the arrow, which somehow made the bullseye in the very hard to hit target. Grappling arrows were special in design, this one even more. As it flew, a metal rope was released, which had been hooked onto the bow. When it hit the target, the rope was locked in place and a button appeared. Clint pressed the button and jumped. The rope retracted and he flew through the air, landing on a small platform next to the target. The only way to get down was to jump, and there was no trampoline, mat, or anything else. I thought he was stranded up there and returned to staring at the bridge, trying to figure out a way to cross.

I heard something whistling through the air and turned away from the small bridge I was eyeing. Clint had retrieved the grappling arrow and placed it in his quiver, then jumped. He was flying through the air. At the hight he was at, he could get really hurt if he missed his target by an inch. As he neared the ground, he tucked his body together and somersaulted on the floor, absorbing the impact so it wouldn't hurt at all. I still do not understand how Natasha and Clint fly through the air like that and land safely on the ground. The Romans had taught me how to do the same, so I guess I was more surprised that people who were not demigods could do that. Then again, both were highly trained assassins and Clint mentioned something about being a low level mutant and Natasha having a form of the super serum that Captain America had and Nico wouldn't shut up about when he was ten. Captain America's serum made a human as good as possible, maybe even more, so that answered Natasha. I guess it was reasonable to assume that being a mutant enhanced Clint's physical abilities. So most likely those jumps are not things everyone can learn, which is probably a good thing.

"Come on!" the two assassins shouted from across the gap. As if it was an afterthought, they added, "Or else!" Not wanting to no the consequences of not crossing, seeing that it would most likely end up with me getting more hurt than it would is I crossed, I took a deep breath and gave an extremely loud taxicab whistle. That I had perfected, seeing as I was a native New Yorker and knew my way around whistling. It was a good thing that I loosened the bonds on Blackjack when I was in my room. Soon, I heard a familiar sound of wingbeats in the air as Blackjack came closer and landed in front of the me. Pulling a sugar cube out of my pocket, I tossed it to him.

"Thanks, boss," he neighed. "It feels good to stretch my wings. What do you need?" He lowering a wing so I could climb on easily.

Leaning into his ear, I whispered, "Across the gap to where those to people are standing." I pointed at Natasha and Clint, who I could tell even without seeing it were glaring at me, annoyed with my methods. I laughed at their frustration, I had never listened to authority and loved to break the rules. As I cackled, Blackjack flapped his two powerful wings, sending us up into the air. When he landed on other bank I jumped off, praising him telepathically. As he flew back to my room, the assassins stomped towards me in synchronization. Laughing nervously, I pointed at a very small, bright red trapdoor right next to my feet. "Before you kill me, this is where we want to go, right?" Kneeling on the floor next to it, I tapped it with my finger.

As Natasha stood behind us, Clint kneeled down right next to me, shining his light on it. Creaking noisily, the small door opened up. Peering into it, I noticed that it was a straight, long, drop down, but there was a trampoline. Taking a quick glance at Clint and seeing his nod, I took a leap of faith, literally, jumping feet first through the opening under the trapdoor.

Chapter Text

The wind rushed past me as I flew down the pipe to the trampoline and whatever else was down there, many feet below me. Good thing I'm not afraid of heights or being underground, which this was a really weird mixture of. It was sort of like heights with the diving down, but it occurred underground. That is really weird now that I think of it. Snapping out of my thought, I saw the floor quickly approaching. I began to maneuver my body into the way Camp Jupiter taught me. Diving down, thanking Hera for the first time in my life, for without her, I would have never gone to Camp J and learned this, I flipped my body so I would be in a position so I could miss the trampoline and instead somersault onto the mat next to it. As the wall in front of me reached the end, I pushed off it so my feet would hit the wall behind me. Pushing off the other wall, I flew towards the mat, before tucking in, hitting the mat, and rolling. I don't trust trampolines after falling for many feet, so I decided the mat was my best option. Maybe this was a good trampoline, but I would rather not find out the hard way.

Quickly, I scrambled off the mat into an area surrounded by red tape, hoping that would be an area out of the blast, sorry, lading zone. There was a sign there, which said, "Wait here for your handler. They will reach the ground shortly." Deciding to listen to the sign, I sat down on the hard floor, trying to lower my heart rate down to a normal rate. Though I'm pretty sure demigods can't have heart attacks like they don't get acne, it's better safe than sorry. Plus, I don't like the feeling of my heart pounding up and down. Higher heart rates usually mean battles, so my ADHD usually acts up even more, which is not good for any of us. Especially for me when I'm in a dangerous situation like I usually am. At the moment, that is happening a lot and I do not want to end up as a Percy Pancake on the ground, dead.

Hearing a whistle, I knew either Clint or Natasha was coming down, perhaps both, and would land soon. Not feeling like moving or taking the chance or disobeying the sign, I continued to sit and waited for them to come to me. If I moved, I might get hurt, so it is definitely a better idea to stay. Looking over, I saw Clint land on the trampoline, jump a couple of times, look up, then bounce out as fast as possible. Based on his reaction, if he didn't move fast, he would get squashed by a flying Natasha or a different agent. But most likely Natasha. I wouldn't wish that fate on the Minotaur and definitely would not wish the fate of getting squashed then scolded by the scary lady known as Natasha on my friend.

Natasha bounced over to me and Clint, then gave Clint a stare, one eye normal, the other being an evil eye. Taking a deep breath, Clint began to ramble. "That jump and landing were great, perfect form, unusual tactics, most just used the trampoline. You basically looked at the tramp as if it was hard concrete and aimed for the mat, which was out of the way. Anyway, good job and-"

With an elbow to the chest, Natasha shut him up. "He tends to ramble," she grumbled. "What he means to say is good job, you proved yourself on the jump, even if you did not prove yourself at the gap." Guess she did not like my tactics on the gap, which I thought were amazing. I thought outside the box, which is a good thing, usually anyway.

Mumbling under his breath, Clint said, "Proved himself on tactics at the gap." Guess Clint agreed with me, but based on the low tone, Clint most likely meant for only me to hear it. Unluckily for him, Natasha also heard and gave him a glare. In a blink of my eye, his hands were up, as if he was going to surrender. I thought for a second that he was going to pull out a white flag from the utility belt until I realized he wouldn't have one on him. Well, maybe he did, just in case he ever needed one on a mission. Huh, would SHIELD give their agents white flags, or would they tell them surrendering is for wimps and you should fight to your last breath? The second one sounds more like what I have heard from them. Then again, I have seen as much brains as I have seen dumb muscle, so maybe they tell them to escape with your life. Don't surrender, but don't fight to your last breath. Find the middle ground. Good, that sounds reasonable.

Deciding to get a move on, Natasha and Clint moved out of the taped circle. As I went to follow them, Clint held out an open hand, mouthing the word, "Stop." Not wanting to risk anything, as it might have a sensor, which would be activated if I move, or only two people are allowed out of the box at a time, I froze. If I couldn't move thought, how would we continue? I began to contemplate this, coming up with the answer as one of them would have to wait in the taped area. Most likely Natasha, as technically Clint was my handler, not her.

Smiling at me, Natasha walked over to the sign and knocked on the face of it two times. As she pulled her hand away, a black button with the words, "SHIELD handlers only," on it. She nodded to Clint, as technically, Clint was a handler and she was not. There was most likely some technology on it that would not let me or her touch it. Clint took a small hammer out of the utility belt and smashed it on the button. Both he and Natasha backed away slowly as something began to creak and the button disappeared.

With a bang, the creaking stopped and the area in the red tape disappeared, leaving me free falling through the air. Smirking, Clint and Natasha jumped in after me. Looking down, I saw that there was a plastic funnel on the floor, which seemed to lead into a slide. Deciding to embrace the weirdness of SHIELD protections, I straightened out my body and slid right into the tunnel at top speed.

My eyes flew across the tunnel, noticing that there was something traveling with me. It was a harness, attached to the metal bars that stretched throughout the tunnel. Knowing it would be best to buckle up as fast as possible, I struggled against the force pushing my body together and attached the harness, which was really a vest, onto my torso. Now that I was buckled in, it sped up, making me fly through a crazy roller coaster, friction fighting against me. Hoping my clothes and I wouldn't be ripped to pieces, I leaned in with the turns and straightened out, making myself as aerodynamic as possible as I flew through the thin, crazy, tunnel.

With a lurch, I came to a sudden stop, suspended above a pool of water, where the next challenge most likely was. Smiling, I unbuckled myself, which was hard when you were dangling in thin air, slipped out of the vest and plopped into the pool. I swam a couple of laps while waiting for Clint and Natasha, regaining my energy as well as having fun. While swimming, I scanned the room and noticed a tunnel, which was covered by a metal door, about five feet above the pool on the north wall. Swimming down to the bottom, I sat down and began to think of strategies of how to get in, which was most likely the next task.

Clint and Natasha slid through the bars over my head, unbuckled and plopped down into the pool. They immediately returned to the surface and began to tread waterGuess they were not ones that could spend a long time under, or just preferred not to stay down. I returned to the surface and asked, "We need to go through that locked door, right?" Natasha spat a small metal thing out of her mouth and it sank down to the bottom of the pool. Both assassins nodded and swam away, leaving me on my own to figure out a way to get through the doors.

Wait a second, Natasha spat out something metal, which looked like a bit like a key. The door holds a keyhole, which was six feet above the water. But this was water, my home base. I had an ace in the hole, seeing that we were in a pool. Cooling some of the water on the top so it turned to ice, I sat down and closed my eyes. Sending out waves, which were echolocation waves, finding objects and telling me where they were, I found the key and had the water pick it up, then bring it to me. Forming the water into a hand the same size of mine, I put the key in the water hands hold. Making a key out of the water, I used it to mimic putting the key in the hole and twisting it. The water hand did the same thing, unlocking the door. Using the water to push the platform over to the door, I kicked open the door.

"Good job," Clint shouted from across the water. "Creative use of your powers." Both he and Natasha swam over to the door. I lowered the platform and had them climb on, then raised it again. "Nice water elevator." I smiled at his compliment. The three of us walked through the door into a basic hallway.

"This is the end. Clint will activate that door at the end, which will lead us to the room with equipment. You just completed the tasks necessary to become a field agent, which is usually when agents gain their equipment. We may need to up your level again." I looked at Natasha with confusion, not understanding what she said. To me, it made no sense, why would my level be raised again, along with everything else she mentioned in her short speech

Looking at me with pity, Clint told me, "Kid, usually someone gets their equipment when they become a field agent. We did it early. Since you passed everything with flying colors, Natasha thinks your level needs to be raised again. At level four, most agents get to work in the field. You passed the test to be raised from a level three to a level four at level two without any weapons, preparation, or anything else."

I stared at Clint in surprise. I thought everything was a little crazy. Guess this is one way to make sure you can be in the field and not be a liability.

Chapter Text

Together, the three of us strolled over to the normal sized black door. It even looked normal, but there were no lights, so I could not tell. My heightened senses from being nervous and hyper wouldn't help me with this. I know I should start relaxing, but I was too nervous and hyper, uncertain if they were lying about there being no more problems and dangerous situations. Then again, most people and everyone involved in mythology would be examining everything after what I just went through. Even if you didn't, with SHIELD, you should just assume the worst. The worst is usually the truth. Don't argue that it is enough, that after everything no more is needed. All of those jump scares, random drops, extreme speeds really just get your blood pressure up, definitely did not help me trust SHIELD that much when it comes to danger. Having ADHD definitely does not help with this situation as it worsens the hyperactivity.

I shook those thoughts out of my head and directed the hyperactivity towards paying attention. Clint took his hand and placed it black pad, which was where a door handle usually was. I guess that is how they open the door, using high tech DNA sort of thing. Not something that I could figure out, having dropped out of school in 10th grade and never returning to anything academic, plus, I failed most of my classes. Eh, I don't really need to understand it and by now I should be expecting this type thing from SHIELD.

The grey door had no window, no obvious way in, other than that black pad, which really stood out. Thinking about that, SHIELD was stupid by making the way into the area so obvious. There must be something else, as you could steal DNA. Then, all of a sudden, a blue screen popped up at eye level. On the screen was a woman's face, which was not a recording, the person who was most likely in charge of the area at the moment. Or whoever was designated to be in charge of dealing with people wanting to come in. Or the only person available. Or something else that my brain has yet to think of. Anyway, this woman had black hair and blue eyes, sort of like Thalia, but her eye were darker and hair longer, plus, she had a stern and serious face, which I have only rarely seen on my cousin's. Taking a closer look, she does not look like Thalia that much. It made sense that I focused on it as my brain make random connections at random moments.

"Mr. Barton," she greeted, going straight to the point, not bothering with saying hello or small talk. "You, Ms. Romanoff, nor the kid are scheduled to be here on a visit now or anywhere in the near future. You should know that it takes a while to get to three, then get to ready for the field." I looked at them, annoyed. If we are going to go through all of this, they really should alert the authorities, especially in something as protected as this. Don't make me go through these challenges unless we can actually continue.

Clint and Natasha exchanged glances as if it was not true for them. As if they had gone through everything at super speed like I was now. Guess all three of us were already skilled when we came in and breezed through everything. If those two made a top team, the three of us together would be amazing. Well, once I get my ranged weapon game down and get good at stealth.

Breaking away from Natasha's eyes, he turned back to the woman with panic in his eyes. He dug through his pockets and grabbed a badge, but not the normal agent one he showed me earlier. This one said his name, codename, level, handler, my name, and my level.

The woman looked at him with a no-can-do expression on her face. "I ran the normal programs on it and you are not yet authorized to come down here. You are a handler, yes, but Mr. Jackson is at level two and not yet ready to go out on the field. Unless you have something else to tell me. I have already told you this."

Natasha pushed Clint out of the way, seemingly frustrated by how Clint was acting like an idiot. As we moved to the walls of the hall to give her space, she stood straight in front of the screen. Without blinking, she stated, "Daria, I have a note from Director Fury about this."

Clint looked at Natasha jealousy, which by now was not that unusual. "She only lets me call her Dr. Black," he mumbled dejectedly. "No fair." Natasha rolled her eyes at him, along with jabbing him in the side with her elbow.

The screen disappeared and the whole door went back to grey. In its place, a blackboard appeared, with what looked like white chalk words running across it. I looked at the door in wonder, trying to figure it out what was happening. My best guess was that they had a blackboard inside and it would be projected onto the door. The blackboard wrote onto itself, saying, "Please open up the flap below and stick your note in it. We will get back to you shortly. In the meantime, please sit down on the chairs behind you." The board stopped writing and left the instructions on the screen, glowing. A light turned on, making it much easier to see in the very dark hallway. It pointed at something in the middle of the door, a handle and flap.

Taking the note, Natasha crouched down and opened the flap and sent it through. As it snapped close, the light turned off and another one two turned on, right on top of three metal chairs, bolted to the ground. We all sat down, sort of. Natasha and I sat down on the cold metal, but Clint got a little creative, wanting to keep watch. I'm not sure if he could, seeing as the light managed to only illuminate the chairs. Either way, he crouched on top of the back of the chair, leaning against the wall, ready to spring off at a moments notice. With the form he had, you would think he had practiced it. And I would not put practicing that past him. I had a funny feeling that he had or would if he had the chance.

A couple of minutes later, the lights turned off and there was a beeping sound. Turning to look at the door, I saw it flashing red and opening slowly. It did not sound good, it seemed like there was an emergency, but Natasha and Clint were either smiling or smirking. "Director override code," the mumbled in unison, leading me to think it was good, despite my early thought process. But why would Fury manually do so? Maybe he was communicating with her, she refused, then Fury decided to manually override her word, letting us in. I'm not sure how much I would believe my story though.

Jumping straight into the action, Clint jumped off the chair and took the lead, gesturing at us to follow his lead. With him in front and Natasha in the back, we walked over to the beeping door. The woman from before, Daria Black, walked over to the three of us. "Follow me," she ordered as the door slammed behind us, turning on one heel and beginning to walk away, white lab coat flying behind her. She led us over to a desk and sat down on a black chair behind it, gesturing at us to sit in the white chairs in front of the desk. "You have a note from the director, which could possibly get you bumped up to level four immediately," she told us bluntly.

All of us stared at her incredulously, as none of us read the note ahead of time. All we knew of the note was that the director gave it to us and told us, "Save it, you will need it at one point," then pushed us out the door, not bothering to say more.

"What?" we all shouted in unison, confused. Even Clint and Natasha had never heard of something like this before, even though they would not admit it. "Explain! Now!"

"If you," she pointed at me, "can pass a shooting test, you will be immediately promoted to level four, having done everything else necessary. We will get you what you need to continue, plus, update," she swiveled away from me to face Clint and Natasha, "your things as well to accommodate for this change."

"I've never shot a gun before," I told her, still confused by her words.

"We will give Natasha thirty minutes to train you with the gun of her and your choice, no help from Clint, then you will have to pass the test given by the director using that gun. If you do, we get a custom gun for you and you will be moved up to level four. If not, you will go through the long strenuous process most recruits go through." The three of us exchanged glances, understanding how good of a deal this is, especially since there were no stakes, as we would just continue as usual if I did not pass. As I nonverbally asked for their opinion, they both nodded at me, telling me to accept it. I thought about it for a few more moments, as it was a serious decision, even though there were no stakes.

"We're in," I told her. "Show us to the guns." She smiled for the first time and stood up. We followed her to a large white door, which was where we most likely will be training.

"This is the range. We have a variety of different guns in here. Natasha will have as long as she likes to find the correct gun for you. Once your gun has been found and you begin to learn, the timer starts for thirty minutes. Understand?" We all nodded, understanding the rules. Both Natasha and I ran into the room like bullets, despite having as much time as possible for this part, heading straight to the large pile of guns. While we worked to find me a gun, Clint went and set up targets and other things for teaching me to shoot.

After what felt like a very long time with my ADHD, Natasha found me a gun that would work. She found a gun that looked like a normal handgun, but instead of shooting bullets, it shoots deadly lasers. It was silent and the laser could be invisible or visible, whatever size or color we wanted. With my style, it was good, especially since there would be no wasted bullets. Also, was both flashy and not flashy, which was cool. Plus, no need to reload or run out.

Now that we found the correct gun for me, she took me through a very strenuous crash course on shooting, with both practical and theoretical knowledge. At the end of the thirty minutes, Black walked in, accompanied by both Fury and Coulson.

"Interesting weapon choice and good teaching Widow, but let's see if it actually works," Fury said as a way of greeting, not bothering with pleasantries. "Let's begin the test." He turned around and everyone followed him to a glass box, except for me. Pressing a button, a screen rolled down and began to instruct me. Thankful that the curse of weapons from Ares and the curse of accuracy for all of Poseidon's descendants was gone and praying to Apollo and Artemis for help, I began the test.

A long time later when my arms were sore and I had thought the gun would somehow run out of lasers, the test was over. I sighed with relief and chugged down the water bottle offered to me. "Did I pass?" I asked. This was the main thing, I didn't want this test to be worth nothing. I had to have passed, I might have only worked thirty minutes for it, the test was worth the same amount. This was something I needed to know. Plus, with this hard of a test and how hard I worked, it cemented the fact that I was playing to win as fast as possible, not take my time.

Black, Fury, and Coulson exchanged notes and whispered among themselves. Clint and Natasha joined me while they were in the huddle, offering both praise and advice. The three judges turned to face me and gave a curt nod, somehow all in unison. "You three, come with me," Black told us. "We'll get the gear."

Fury spoke up. "After that, train for two hours on shooting, then go up the badge to four. Try to shoot for three hours a day from now on."

Coulson ended it. "We will find you three a trial mission as soon as possible." Fury and Coulson left the room. Black turned around and we followed her to the top secret gear stash, which was most likely not as top secret as I am making it out to be.

Chapter Text

She lead us to what looked like a cross between the vent covers and a trapdoor. It was on the ceiling and most likely the way into this secret gear stash. Well, most likely it was not only gear, there was probably a bunch of other stuff there as well. Then again, it was probably mainly gear and the other things might technically qualify as gear. The only thing was it was in the middle of the room and had a keyhole, so it looked to be very hard to get into, though I could most likely use the water vapor in the room to open it. As I stared up at it, trying to figure out a way in using the water without revealing too much, the others turned to face Dr. Black. Clint jabbed me with his elbow, so I turned around to face her as well, not bothering to continue trying to figure out how to open it as she probably had the answers. She reached into one of the many pockets in her white lab coat and pulled out what looked like a black clicker, the type thing people use for dog training. I assumed that was not really a dog training clicker, as with SHIELD, almost nothing is what it looks like, so assume it is not what it looks like and that is dangerous. If you do so, you are correct more often than not, plus, with trained individuals, everything is dangerous, even a small napkin.

As she pressed the button on the clicker like object, it turned it to something that looked like a GPS, that will probably be useful later, as it does not seem like SHIELD would do things for no reason at all. When I looked towards the ceiling, thinking that the action would probably do something, I saw the trapdoor like thing slide open and a metal pole with what looked like a metal leaf on the bottom dropped to the ground. She moved to stand on it and we followed her lead, squished together to stand on the metal leaf, her closest to the pole. Near her hand on the pole, there was a slot where you put coins in, like on arcade games or vending machines. Clint passed her a gold coin that looked suspiciously like the drachmas demigods and god used, and she pushed it through the slot on the pole. Nothing happened other than some creaking for the next couple of minutes, along with some creepy shaking of the pole.

All of a sudden, the creaking and haking stopped as the pole gave a loud screech and it shot upwards, going faster than a speeding train. The second it hit the ceiling, it came to a sudden stop and the trapdoor like thing closed over the leaf platform. Dr. Black flicked a switch on the black GPS like thing she held in her hand. The switch was sort of weird, as it looked to be antennas on the GPS, which she flicked together. You know what, it has a switch like function and moves like one, so it is a switch. Ugh, why does the object Dr. Black is holding have to be so annoying? Do you know what else is annoying? Having to refer to Dr. Black as Dr. Black in my mind, no one can see or hear what is happening in here. Actually, I'm done with referring to her as Dr. Black in my thoughts, I'm gonna call her Daria up here and I don't care what she thinks about it. So, Daria flicked the switch on her GPS and a dim light lit up the room. Strangely, this light was a reddish color instead of the normal off white, but SHIELD probably did research and it showed that they were best off using red light for preserving objects and whatnot.

There were many things lying around the large room, but there was no dust on most of them. Based off further observations of these objects, there was no dust anywhere, but not because of cleaning, none of it was ever cleaned, but because they were tested and used so often by people. People were always picking it up, touching it, so there was no sitting around and collecting dust for these objects, except for a couple of the older and less popular ones in the far corners. Though there must be another way to get here and get out of here, as it would be really annoying to go through all of that every time. In fact, it would probably be too inconvenient as well. Maybe there is an elevator, but there is a lot of security and you need to be level four, as you have to pass that test to be level four. So after you do it once, you are good, unless you become a handler, then you need to do it until every agent you handle gets to level four. I like that theory, especially since it means next time I get to use an elevator instead of going through all of those heart-stopping tasks.

Daria eyed both Clint and Natasha, as if suspicious, but if you looked closer you could tell she was just analyzing them. After staring at them intensely for what felt like a minute or two, she blinked and broke the awkward silence that had occurred. "You two need nothing other than possibly replenishing stores and updating your sensors to include Mr. Jackson," she told them, completely ignoring my existence. "Sit in the corner, I would rather do this alone. I have always preferred to do it without the handlers if possible." She pointed towards another room that was encased in glass and filled with chairs, that a couple of other people were sitting in already. Most likely, these were partners or handlers of people getting new things and had to be waiting for them due to SHIELD rules. So that means there are people other than Daria and I looking for new things, great, not. That means that even if we have not seen anyone else other than them yet, that does not mean we won't. I know I was not ready for dealing with others, plus, I'm younger than most and it usually takes a while to get to level four, supposedly. Everyone that I saw so far, even level ones had seemed to be at least twenty two years old, and I'm only eighteen. The suspiciousness of SHIELD agents is not something I need right now.

The first thing she did once both of them had sit down was pull me over to this thing that looked a lot like a shower. It wasn't, as I had reached out my senses when we arrived in the room and there is no plumbing connected to this thing that looked like a shower. Unless they use something other than water, this is not a shower. We had to wait a couple of moments for this shower, as someone else was already inside it. That must mean that someone had come here only a short time before we had crossed the gap or managed to use a much faster method. Or there is another way to get down if you are not doing the challenges to become a field agent and go higher up the totem pole. Well, I had earlier saw a thing that looks a lot like an elevator, it should go both up and down, right?

With a kick to the shin, Daria knocked me straight out of my thoughts. With her pointy black boots, it managed to do some damage, though it probably did not cause a mark. Then again, it is not like I can see my skin where she kicked me, so maybe my clothes protected me. As I pondered on that for a couple of seconds, she touched me again, this time elbowing me in the gut. For that and the kick, I gave her a small glare, until I saw a thirty year old woman walk out of the shower like thing and go over to the older man sitting on the seat next to it. Daria pushed me into the shower like thing in an unexpected show of strength and slammed the door on me, leaving me alone in the small dark space. I began to have a miniature panic attack, as I am still a little, well, more than a little claustrophobic after everything that has happened to me there, both with Gabe and with mythological monsters. Images of tar monsters began to close in on me as I began to remember when I, one who can breath underwater began to drown in the earth. Gaea is gone, I reassured myself. But I wasn't sure if I should believe me.

A light ping echoed throughout the small space. My head quickly shot up, alert and at attention. I didn't like sudden noises and surprises anymore, living on the run does that to you. But if it is gone bring me out of a flashback induced panic attack, I am perfectly fine with it. "Hello, Agent Jackson," a female robotic voice greeted me with no emotion at all. Cabin 9 could make automans, which are basically robots, that had emotions. Despite technology attracting monsters, us demigods seemingly had more advanced tech then mortals. Wow, I really did not expect that one, though it might just be because of the godly blood that traveled through our veins, which mortals definitely do not have. While some, such as mutants have superpowers, that is nothing when compared with godly blood, something way more potent. "Thank you for now paying attention. If you could please take off your clothes and put them in the little bucket to your right it would be greatly appreciated. After that, please stand in the middle of the space, hands on your hips, feet shoulder length apart." I have to admit it, I yelped, surprised at the little robotic voice and what it wanted me to do. Despite knowing the room was completely dark and there was no one else in there, that does not mean they have cameras that can see without light, as this is SHIELD. Also, things called night vision goggles exist and SHIELD probably has some of the most advanced versions of them. Then again, both my handlers and that woman before me did so, along with every agent above level four.

With a long and emotion filled sigh, I removed my clothes and accessories, placed them in the bucket and stood like the machine told me to, closing my eyes. Though I had my extra senses going wild, seeing that I had nothing on to protect me and I didn' have Riptide where I could easily access her. I could feel a mist like thing surround me and fill the room, most likely gaining information on me physically. Though, despite it giving them more information, it also helped me gain even more than before as the mist just enhanced my extra senses. Clothes and accessories would have gotten in the way of using mist, so the machine told me to remove them. Using the mist, I easily saw there was no cameras or any other ways they could see me in here, along with a lot more. Even then when I knew nothing bad was happening, I still breathed a sigh of relief when it was all over, I had my clothes on and was out of the torture machine. Once I was able to, though, I started fidgetting with Riptide, reminding myself that she was still here.

As I walked out of the not-officially-but-definitely-is-torture-machine, Daria got up from her seat beside it and grabbed my hand, forcing me to put Riptide back in my pants pockets, pulling me over to a section that had a lot of clothes, some like what Clint and Natasha were wearing, along with other types of clothes, such as actual suits, lab wear, armor prototypes, trench coats, and more. Daria brought me to an area with clothes like Clint had been wearing, which made sense, since Clint had told me that my things would look like his, excluding bow and arrows, obviously. The clothes still confused me, as it didn't look like what I thought when it comes to spies and trying not to be seen when not hiding in plain sight.

Since the shower had most likely given her my dimensions specifically for the purposes of gear, she grabbed one of the carts on the side and began to fill it up, with about three versions of the same thing in four different styles, one style per season if my thought process was correct. If this was all I had, I could wear something different every day for twelve days, but it would not be that helpful as each set of three seemed geared towards something different. The boots and a bulletproof vest were the same no matter what style, except for some being more padded and warm than others. The shirts, pants, and other things were different, most likely because they were probably made for different temperatures and environments. At least, that is what I could gain from my short glance at all the stuff.

Somewhat bored, I took Riptide back out of my pocket and began to fidget with her. That lead to me wondering if I would be able to have Riptide on missions and if there were pockets on the pants. Without pockets, I could lose Riptide and she was the one constant in my life since age twelve. Panicking, I asked, "Do all the pants have pockets?" Daria looked at me weirdly, before shaking her head no. I started hyperventilating, having a panic attack in the middle of the room, with many people who had stopped their searching to stare at me and my fit. Seeing that she made some mistake she didn't know about, she grabbed me and pulled me over to Clint and Natasha as fast as she could, her eyes sprinting across the room in worry.

Worried, she asked them as soon as she was near, talking as fast as possible, "What is happening, why is he having a panic attack? He is too young to have PTSD." Both looked at me worriedly, not having never seen me like this before. All my panic attacks since joining SHIELD had occurred while I was alone and I had managed to snap out of them before anyone noticed. Sadly, this panic attack would lead to me having to join them in having to visit the mental ward at least once a month, more if there is a mission during the month. They looked around the room and noticed a fridge full of both frozen and unfrozen water bottles. Natasha ran over and grabbed two unfrozen water bottles while Clint forced my mouth open. She poured the water down my throat, knowing I would not choke due to my powers.

Coughing, I managed to regain control of my body and take control of the water, stopping it from choking me. I still am not yet ready to die, plus, I owe it to Clint and Natasha to explain this to them. After a couple of seconds, which I gave to myself as recovery time, I sat up, trying to ignore the staring of those around me and my buzzing head. "You good?" Natasha asked me, speaking with a genuine concern that I had never heard from her before. After everyone disappeared, I never thought there would be anyone who genuinely cared about me again, losing almost all of my family and friends. And it is not like Mrs. O'leary or Blackjack can truly talk and I can not visit mom without putting her, Paul, the baby, and all of the mortals nearby in danger.

I hesitated for a couple of seconds, trying to figure out a way to explain the situation without everyone thinking I am absolutely crazy and belong in a house for crazies. "It's hard to explain," I whispered, my voice cracking a little bit. Not wanting to look them in the eye, I glanced around the rest of the room and noticed how many people were actually in it. "Also, I would rather explain it without this many people around. Preferably, with only you and Clint. Though I would be willing for Dr. Black to be there, along with the higher ups you pointed to earlier."

Both agents nodded, understanding my harsh situation. "Follow me and Natasha," Clint ordered. "We will deal with this in privacy."

Chapter Text

They lead me over to an elevator, which presumably leads back to the main part of the SHIELD base and out of here. If not, that would be both weird and disappointing. Especially since they said something about meeting with the higher-ups. I would rather go to the higher-ups than have them come down to me. Plus, I still don't like elevators after the doors of death. Next time I'm going to request to take the stairs. Clint pulled out his badge and scanned it. The elevator made a beeping sound, distracting me from my thoughts. The things flashed green and the doors opened. We rushed in, myself wanting to get it over with, the others just wanting not to get the doors shut on them. It quickly shut its doors the second all three of us were in so there was no chance anyone could sneak on with us. Natasha went over to a little control panel on the side of the elevator and messed with it until the whole elevator lit up green and began to move.

Seconds later, the elevator stopped moving and the doors opened into an empty hall I had never seen before. Then again, I had not seen much of SHIELD yet, since I am still a newbie despite being level four. Hades, I've only been here for about three days and it feels like I've been living here my whole life. Finally realizing what open doors mean, I sprinted out of the elevator, putting as much distance between me and it as possible. Following my lead, the other two calmly strode out of the elevator. Once we were all out, the doors closed and the elevator disappeared. Something happened with the walls and it looked like the elevator never existed, which was good for me and my already panicked brain.

Clint looked up, then smirked, already beginning to pull something out of the utility belt. He must have a plan, and based on the smirk, the rest of us would most likely not like it. After digging in the pockets of the belt for a couple of moments, he pulled out a high tech grappling hook, one just as advanced as the ones from cabin nine. Taking a second look, I began to think that the grappling hook was even more advanced than the ones cabin nine used to cheat on the climbing wall. He gave Natasha a look that was somewhat like puppy dog eyes, though I guess they were more of baby bird eyes, and she nodded, rolling her eyes, annoyed with his antics.

"Back up," Natasha whispered as Clint began to swing the grappling hook around his head like a lasso. "It's much safer." Agreeing with her statement, both of us quickly retreating out of the grappling hooks reach. Clint continued to swing it around for a couple more seconds than swung the grappling part of the hook up towards the ceiling, leaving me confused at the movement. Why would he want to kill the ceiling? It is not like it did anything to him.

Looking up for the first time since we exited the elevator, I noticed that there was a vent cover on the ceiling above his head. Somehow, with accuracy I had only seen from the Apollo kids and the hunters, Clint had managed to throw the hook exactly so it would slip through the gaps without a sound, loop around them a couple of times, then hook on so it would not fall off and you could grapple up. The way it was done it looked strong enough to hold all of our weight at once. He still held the other end of the grappling hook, which was sort of like bicycle handles, in his hands. Actually, they looked more like motorcycle handles instead of bicycle handles. Holy Hera, did the gods seriously need to give us ADHD. Isn't there a better way to give us battle instincts? Now I'm getting jealous of Frank, he is only lactose intolerant. Then again, he is dead and I severely like ice cream, a treat worthy of the gods.

"Going up," he shouted over his shoulder at us before cranking the part in his hands like you would a motorcycle. I knew it was more like a motorcycle than a bicycle! No one probably cares and Natasha would probably wack me on the head for that remark. Breaking out of my thoughts, I began to pay attention again, hoping it would mean Natasha wouldn't kill me. Silently, the rope began to retract into the handles and he was pulled up to the ceiling, stopping a bit before he would hit his head. He flipped himself around so he was standing on the ceiling, feet firmly planted, one hand on the vent cover and the other dangling. Now, that is something I really want to learn. Guess paying attention is a good thing, though it is really hard to do. "Throw it."

Natasha pulled a screwdriver out of her utility belt and tossed it up to him, the thing hurtling through the air perfectly, cutting through aerodynamically with a perfect spin. Sadly, the screwdriver was a little far from his hand, but he was able to swing himself around and catch it. That means that her aiming must be a little off. Then again, from what I have seen, Clint was usually the long range sniper, while she went in close. Somehow, he flipped back over to his original position and began to unscrew the vent cover, upside down. Placing the screws in his pockets, he pushed open the unscrewed vent cover and moved it over to one side. Using his upper body strength, which he had a lot of from using high draw weight bows, he pulled himself into the vents and disappeared from view.

A rope came flying out from the vent without warning, stopping a foot away from the floor so no noise would be made, alerting others to our presence. It swung for a couple of moments then slowly came to a stop. Natasha shoved me towards it, unbalancing me for a couple of critical moments. I was close to the rope when she pushed it, so I grabbed on to help balance me like I would a vine, though it might have shaken Clint a little bit based off the rope dropping forward a bit. "Sorry," I called up, it still being a force of habit despite living alone for so long.

"It's fine," he replied. "Now, get a move on." Assuming he meant to get up there fast, I got a better grip on the rope and pulled my way up, Natasha following me. He handed Natasha the screwdriver from earlier and pulled the rope back up, stuffing it into his utility belt. I will most likely never figure out how they fit all that stuff in there. Sadly, as it seems like the hunter's tents, though mortals don't have godly magic. I'll have to try and swipe one from Clint or Natasha so I can study it later. Thought it most likely won't end well, it will be worth a try. Natasha broke me out of my thoughts, handing me the screwdriver and Clint passed the screws over to me. I placed the cover back on and screwed it back into place, making it seem like we never opened it up to sneak in earlier.

Once I passed Natasha the screwdriver, we were off towards Fury's office, which was two floors above where we entered the vents. We had to spider climb through the vent as it was small with no hand or foot holds, and straight up. By pressing our feet and hands against the walls of the vent, we somehow managed not to slip all the way down and inched our way up two floors through the walls. Once we were up there, I prayed to all the gods that we would never have to do that again. Most of them either hate me or are pranksters, so most likely I will end up having to do this hundreds more time, only going up, never down. Great.

After we somehow managed to get up two floors in the vents, it was easy moving through the ceiling to the opening in Fury's office. "We will walk in," Natasha whispered. "Clint, find the closest opening to Fury's office that is in a hall." He nodded and took off at a rapid speed, not bothering to even make sure we were following. Assuming he knew where he was going, we shot off after him, not wanting to lose him again.

Suddenly, he stopped. Natasha almost ran into him and I almost ran into her when he stopped suddenly. "Here," he explained, pointing at something in front of him. "Pass the screwdriver." She passed the screwdriver to him and he quickly opened it up, much faster than I was able to do so far. I will get better and will be able to open it faster than him in no time. He just had more practice, but I'm younger and have demigod instincts on my side. Wow, I never realized how competitive I am.

He moved over so that myself and Natasha were on one side of the opening and he was on the other. After he tossed the rope down, he gestured at us to go down first, though I have no clue why. Once we had made it down, he tied some complicated knot around the vent cover that attached to his utility belt. Dropping down so when he fell the cover went back in place, he slid out of the opening. With a thud, the cover went in place and he hanged over the floor, ten feet up. Taking the screws and screwdriver, he screwed the vent cover back in like it was nothing. Untieing one of the knots he created, he dropped all the way down to the floor, no longer handing above it. With a simple tug on the rope, the elaborate knot neatly fell apart and the rope landed next to him on the floor.

I gave him a look of confusion as he put it away, surprised at how the knot collapsed and he managed to screw the vent cover on like that. Never had I ever seen anything like that before, no matter how crazy I had seen people go with knots. Clint noticed the incredulous look I was giving him and explained, chuckling, "I was in the circus." He said it as if it would explain it all to me and not leave me still confused. Plus, when you stay something like that, it is almost never true. He continued to chuckle maniacally, even more so when he saw I was still confused.

With a glance at Natasha, the two shared a small smile and Clint stopped chuckling like a maniac. Seeing that if nothing would happen Clint would start cackling again, Natasha opened her mouth. "Lead the way," she ordered. "You brought us here, now take us to Fury." I thought she meant that he brought us to this hall, though there was a little more to it. Clint was the one who brought her to SHIELD and the one that convinced her to bring me in instead of killing me like she wanted to. So it didn't have a single meaning, it had a double meaning. He brought us to the places in SHIELD as he usually led the way, and he also brought both of us in to SHIELD. Wow, I would have never thought that they were gonna kill me. I thought they were gonna leave me alone until they thought I might have potential. I knew Clint had been here longer than Natasha, but I would have never thought he brought her in. That, and he is a much better judge of character than I thought.

Minutes later, the three of us were standing in front of the door to Fury's office, seeing that Clint had us run all the way there, taking every shortcut imaginable. Natasha and I stood there at the door normally while Clint had his ear against the door, eavesdropping. After a minute of Clint listening in on the conversation went by, I began to get even more impatient. "Why in Hades do you have to listen in and we have to wait?" I asked, not caring that I was whining. "My ADHD is acting up, and badly." I know it was a poor excuse, but I wanted something that was not a lie, just in case. Both him and Natasha were living lie detectors, literally. My ADHD was acting up, seeing that my eyes were darting around the hall like crazy and all four of my limbs were tapping the floor and wall at rapid speeds.

Clint sighed, and told us, "From what I can hear, Fury, Coulson, and Hill are inside. Are you willing to let both Coulson and Hill know this? Otherwise, we should come back later. I can tell that what they are talking about is important and I'm not sure if interrupting them is the right idea." That is true, as if the higher-ups are in an important conversation, we should not interrupt them. But, I have never care about authority. Plus, this is important and I don't feel like waiting.

Both of them stared at me creepily, waiting for my executive decision. That was weird, as usually, they do not let me make decisions, as I am the youngest and newest at SHIELD. With a roll of my eyes, I gave a slight nod. I really am impatient, plus, I could not care what the higher-ups think. The gods have already labeled me as impertinent, who cares what a couple of mortal adults think

No expression from Natasha and a hint of a smirk appeared on Clint's face before it went back to no expression in a second. Guess neither of them cared about what the adults think either. Though Natasha is much better at hiding her thought than Clint. But, I'm good at reading people, so it does not matter if it looks like she didn't even twitch to an amateur. Clint knocked on the door and Natasha pulled out a walkie-talkie and said, "Requesting access for Romanoff, Barton, and Jackson to enter FO. Repeat, Romanoff, Barton, and Jackson are requesting access to FO."

I could hear someone slam a button through the walkie-talkie and the grey doors with the black SHIELD sign and Fury's name opened, without any creaking. Guess Fury's stuff was well maintained as every other door here that opened on their own creaked. "Whaddaya want?" Fury asked, scowling. "This is an important meeting, way above your clearance level. It is for nines and above."

"With all due respect, sir, you let us in," Clint respond cheekily. "Also, you would want to know about a possibility of PTSD.

Chapter Text

Fury's dark brown eyelid slowly closed and opened again, his slow blink giving away his surprise and interest from his otherwise emotionless face. It sort of reminded me of when Beckendorf did that after I had begun to talk too fast. Though, Beckendorf had two eyes, no one. Actually, with the trench coat and eyepatch, Fury looks like a space pirate. Maybe he is, though if he was, why in Hades would he ever pick Earth to settle on. Deciding, that debating if Fury was a space pirate or not was for another time, I turned back to trying to fully interpret Fury's face. Thankfully I had dealt with plenty of emotionless demigods before like Nico and Reyna, so I was able to decipher Fury's face. Projecting a blank face toward him with an annoyed and bored attitude, he quickly took inventory of the situation.

Giving me a sharp nod, Fury ordered, "We will discuss this in this room. All six of us will stay, each of us needing to know this. The only one that you could have a case against would be Hill, and she's staying. So move your butts, pull up three chairs and sit down at the table." His somehow frightening one-eyed glare got both Clint and Natasha to stop rocking back and forth on the balls of their feet and head over to the chairs. It didn't frighten me, but I have seen the death glare of the personification of death, so that made sense. Well, Thanatos didn't glare that much, but his employer, which is my uncle Hades, has a scary glare, fit for the ruler of ghosts. Mine was even scarier, the worst glare in the whole world of greeks.

Seeing the confused look that both assassins were giving me, along with how they were projecting to get moving, quickly, I stopped analyzing the room and got a chair. Easily hoisting the small wooden chair over my head, I walked over to the space in between where Clint and Natasha put their chairs and placed mine there. Vaulting over the top of it, I landed nicely on my butt and settled down for the interrogation. Sadly, I would have to face the interrogation with a throbbing butt for landing it directly on wood with a very thin cushion, even though I landed perfectly. Stupid chair.

After all the surprise from my skills had left their faces, Coulson grumbled, "We need to figure out everything the kid can do, his education levels, and the languages he speaks." An emotion quickly passed through his entire face, eyes, mouth, and all, but it disappeared so quick I never got a chance to figure it out. Coulson swiveled around so that he was facing Fury instead of Clint. "The kid is only 18 years old while the rule book says one must be 21 and have a GED before they can join SHIELD. And you want him to be an assassin, killing people!" Steely blue eyes stared at Fury, unblinking and hard. Of course, they had nothing on Thalia's blue eyes which would have been dancing with lightning or Annabeth's grey eyes which would be both stormy and steely. I sort of miss their glares now that they are gone, telling me with their eyes that I'm an idiot. Is that weird? Or is it just loss affecting me in a delayed fashion? That would be something to worry about later though.

Before Fury could respond, I growled, "You disregard me because of my age, old man. That means nothing, absolutely nothing. I have seen death. I have killed. I have seen my whole family, all my friends, and my girlfriend, just disappear on my seventeenth birthday with no explanation. You think you have the right to tell me I am too young!" Done with him, I twisted my chair so he would be in my blind spot. Grumbling under my breath, I added, "I led an army of about forty into war against thousands of monsters. No person there was older than eighteen. And we won." Knowing with that rant I had said my part, I leaned back and relaxed, waiting for the next part in the verbal spar. Oh, I wish I had Leo's tool belt, then I might be able to gain popcorn, though the only food he had pulled out of it while I was watching was breath mints, that's something. Or my old picture of everyone after the battle, still happy that we won, before we counted our losses. Proving the victory and allowing me to look at them a little more.

Natasha noticed my subtle gestures about leaving the party to her, thankfully taking the metaphorical bait. I had eavesdropped on the rumor mill and had heard that she had been training for around thirty years, and she looks to be in her thirties or younger. "The Russians didn't care about age. Sure, they were the baddies and we are the goodies, but eighteen still is a lot older than nine. Doule it, even" A distracted look crossed her face, as if she was remembering some long lost past, that she was trying to put behind her. "I started at eight, almost nine." Oh, she was remembering her times with the Russians. "I first killed at 11." Wow, that is young, most demigods don't start that young. Well, Annabeth had killed her first monster at seven, Jason probably was similar. But most of us started at around twelve or thirteen.

Despite the fact that myself, Natasha, and Coulson would be content with continuing this argument for a much longer period of time, the other people in the room decided it was best to move on. Clint, Fury, and Hill all didn't care about age, while Coulson was definitely against myself and Natasha on it. "You three, the argument is over. Coulson, if you ain't good with this, you won't stay as their handler, I'll put Hill in the position." He spared a glance from looking straight forward at me to turn to his left to look at Hill, who gave him a slight nod in approval, fine with taking over the position. "Now, boy, what was the cause of the panic."

"No pockets in the clothes." That got me a look of confusion basically from everyone in the room. That isn't something most people have panic attacks about. It's a weird phobia and not something most get PTSD from. Unsure about how to deal with the attention from all of these adults that probably could kill me at a moments notice, I pulled Riptide out of my pocket and began to fiddle with her. I had always fiddled with pens due to ADHD, which was the cause of me losing half of them. I would accidentally fling them across the room and never get them back. "Riptide always comes back to my pocket. Without pockets, I can't bring Riptide and Riptide won't come back."

"Riptide?" Clint questioned, confused. "Who's that, your boyfriend?" I really hope he was joking, but if he and Natasha were serious about him growing up in the circus, he most likely wouldn't be bothered by this stuff anyway. Circus's are most likely filled with people of all different minorities, those who think differently than normal. That is part of what is important in making a circus. Plus, if runaways go there, there is most likely a lot of people kicked out for not agreeing with viewpoints. Like a devout catholic kicking a kid out for being bisexual, which I had heard is a sin. Whatever, I'm polytheistic and I'm pretty sure almost all the gods are bisexual. Zeus and Apollo I know have both like both boys and girls, plus, as they had been around so long they must have liked both at one point.

Flipping the chair around by full out jumping it so that I would be facing Clint, I deadpanned, "I literally just mentioned I had a girlfriend." Stopping there for a second, I realized that didn't matter. There were bisexuals out there, along with pansexuals like me. "Actually, that does not matter, I'm Pan. But, according to my dead girlfriend's cousins sword, Jack, Riptide is a girl. Then again, she was made by Zoe Nightshade, who is a girl, so I guess it makes sense." I'm still confused about that, I never thought swords had genders. Maybe talking swords do and the rest don't. I still think that Riptide is xe, not she, being neither gender as a sword. Realizing I was rambling both mentally and in real life due to Clint's get-to-the-point gesture, I asked, "Wait, you want to know what Riptide is."

Both Clint and Natasha facepalmed, their hands hitting their heads so fast and hard you could easily hear it, while Fury and Hill looked like they wanted to but knew they couldn't in order to keep up their image. Especially the super scary and badass image they had painted of themselves for the newbies, like me. I had only been here for almost three days, awake. Coulson though isn't keeping up an image, it is really him since there were no flashes of amusement or wants to facepalm in his looks. "Yes!" most of them sighed in exasperation.

I stopped fiddling with Riptide and placed xer onto the table. "This is Riptide," I explained when they looked at the pen, confused. Picking xer back up, I took the cap off and placed it in my pocket before carefully laying Riptide onto the dark oak table. The light bounced off the Celestial Bronze and Olympian Silver and it lit up the whole room. It may be unlikely that others would peek into the office, I tend to be a bit worried and paranoid when it comes to the mortal and immortal world mixing, especially when I am not good with manipulating the mist. My sense were on overdrive in order to make sure no one would peak through the windows and see xer.

Hearing footsteps, which easily could have been my imagination due to how hard I was listening for them, I jumped up and shut the blinds, wanting as little people as possible to see Riptide. Feeling Riptide return to my pocket, I decided to return to my seat. I was mentally cackling, waiting for their surprise as Riptide had vanished from the table and appeared in my pocket. As I sat down, I glanced around the table to gain a glimpse of their most likely hilarious expressions. Coulson, was mad, really mad, and wanted to figure things out. Fury was interested, most likely wanting to figure out a way to replicate it. Hill was surprised and had no clue what was happening. No aliens for her but aliens for both Fury and Coulson. Fury had encountered and made bonds or talked to more aliens than Coulson. Thor and Loki do not count as aliens as they are part of the nine worlds. Aliens from other places, ones that should not have been here.

Slowing down from short glances at individuals, I first looked at Natasha, continuing the pattern clockwise around the table. She seemed to be surprised, confused and wanted to know more, thirsty for knowledge on what she perceives as new technology. Instead, it is magic that has been around for many millennia, but I was not going to mention that to her. No telling people about the gods and aliens unless absolutely necessary, the fewer people who know, the better. Clint didn't look surprised, acting as relaxed as he would be if he saw it every third Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Guess the circus bit probably isn't a lie. He most likely had seen things like xer there before. Maybe there were some magicians or demigods in his troop that didn't care about keeping secrets. Or he has messed with plenty of mutants with magical powers of enchantment and what not.

"I'm not gonna even bother askin' how ya got that," Fury told me, not bothering to sugar coat it. "I'm assuming that the Kree and Skrulls and whatever other aliens visited Earth in the 1990s left some tech behind and you got your hands on it." Kree and Skrulls, those aren't from any myth I have ever heard of. But, he said alien, plus, the thing probably didn't occur in New York, so Chiron would have never mentioned that extraterrestrials exist. Which they do, since there are the ones from the nine worlds, these ones, and more. Well, that leaves me to wonder even more. There was the case of the missing kid of one of the few demigods who managed to grow up. Annabeth had said that Chiron wanted to collect the legacy of Apollo when his mother died of cancer, but he disappeared. That was during the 1990s, maybe he was abducted by aliens. And he was not affected due to not being in the nine worlds. There might be another person with godly blood out there, alive, even if the kid doesn't know it.

Hill saw my confused expression and whispered, "He wants you to tell him what it does." Guess she is good at translating her bosses expressions, she must have been here for a while. I gave her a small nod and smile in thanks before turning to face the director, who has had a very personal encounter with aliens, seemingly. At least, that is what his sad and longing expression is telling me. Maybe he was good friends with one of the aliens and had not seen him/her since. Maybe dated them, as I could see him fiddle with a messed with pager from the 1990s. A way to contact the aliens, perhaps. He wanted to use it, but knew he could not.

Taking a deep breath, I began to start to figure out how to explain it without revealing the world of immortals, though it probably didn't matter much as it was basically gone. "Not alien tech, magic," I started. "You know mutants are real and some mutants can do magic. There are some other magic users out there, but I'm not gonna reveal them to you. If you are wondering, it does not matter because they are on our side. The sword is half bronze, half silver." That was a new development, something that had happened once I joined SHIELD. Guess the blade knew I would need to harm mortals, or the gods are still out there and wanted to be helpful in my life for once. "Riptide is charmed to be able to switch forms, the two forms being pen and sword. All I need to do is remove or place the cap back on, which always appears in my pocket. The blade does the same if I lose it for a bit, it comes back to my pocket in pen form. That's all."

Tipping the chair back so I almost fell over, I waited for a response from the five flabbergasted agents.

Chapter Text

Clint was the first one to break out of his shock, which I really should have been expected. He was in the circus, there is plenty of weirdos there and he probably has met some odd mutants over time. Circus's attract crazies and you can easily use mutant powers in the circus and it won't seem out of the ordinary. I mean, I had heard of this guy called the Incredible Nightcrawler who could teleport in a circus, that probably wasn't fake based off his looks. But, most people don't come from the circus and are as open-minded, such as Coulson. He, on the other hand, looked like he was about to faint, with how pale his face was and how I could see veins dancing in his veins. Actually, he looked like a crazed evil maniac who's plan had somehow managed to work, specifically a magical one, as those are the ones with weird eyes. Seriously, they were white with a black iris and red veins popping out and dancing around.

Moving away from that side of the table, I looked straight ahead of me at Director Fury, whose expression was probably the most interesting out of all of theirs. Not expecting not denying, not open, but not closed. A mixture of paradoxes, as Annabeth would say. The director seemed calm and indifferent on the outside, along with a little spaced out, which is to be expected. Of course, with how he was on the inside, he should be a little spaced out, as I had said. On the inside, if you looked a little deeper, which is kind of hard, Fury had retreated into his head in order to comprehend the amazingness that is my sword, previously Heracles and Zoe's. Mainly Zoe's, Heracles didn't deserve her or the sword. Hill, was the opposite of Fury, as she was openly shocked and confused, not bothering to try and hide it. She probably didn't have enough experience to hide it, plus, I would be able to see through it anyway. Those that are less trained are easier to read. Also, I can read sons of the god of lies faces, I can easily read that of mortals.

The only other female in the room, Natasha, was handling things quite differently than the rest of the agents. She had already jumped out of her chair and was pacing, going back and forth across the small room, all while muttering to herself about how it didn't make sense and about Russian witches, especially Baba Yaga. I wonder who Baba Yaga was, most likely an ancient Russian witch, the stuff of tall tales and myths. Fake myths, like Atlantis, not real myths, like demigods. Natasha was not one to sit still and comprehend it mentally in these situations, she was one to go out and act first, ask questions later when they were weak and she was in a dominant position. Since there was no one she could attack with this, everyone being her superior in the room except for me, she had reverted to moving around, which is actually a good idea. Moving would make her blood move around, stimulating her brain, making it easier to think. I think, I was never the smart one. That was Annabeth's job. I was the dumb muscle.

Myself and Clint reverted to having a thumb war again while waiting for the others to break out of shock. It was sort of boring sitting there with nothing to do, waiting to be dismissed and take our partner with us. Suddenly, a bang echoed throughout the room as a chair hit the hard floor, the person in it for some reason not trying to stop it. Well, the person in the chair couldn't prevent it, as they had passed out due to hyperventilation, which can happen when you are extremely stressed out, in shock, or have specific anxiety disorders. The Apollo kids would rant about these things for hours when demigods had passed out due to similar reasons. It was not fun to watch, as they would vent their anger by ranting at the person nearest to them. I tended to be the unlucky one, as I liked to stay in the med bay with the people healing. I have always blamed myself, I'm the most powerful, I should be able to save them and prevent their injuries and deaths. I still think that and have not come to terms with their deaths. I could never, I want to stay with them and help them as much as possible after not protecting them earlier. It made me an easy target for the rants, especially since I wasn't one to run my sword through them if they annoyed me, which both Clarisse and Thalia would do with their spears. I miss them, all of them, even the bullies like Drew. I've lost everything, this is my only chance. If they don't except me due to this, I'm back to where I was earlier, with no one to live for other than their memories which wouldn't want me to go out like that.

Clint gave me a look, telling me with his expression to stop whatever pity party I started having with myself and help him. Breaking out of my depressing thoughts, I ran with him over to the fallen chair after both of us got over the initial shock and jump that came with the noise. Noticing that the person in it, Coulson, was in fact out cold, we exchanged looks of panic and frustration. "What should we do," I whispered, done with being the cause of peoples deaths. Bianca, Zoe, Beckendorf, Silena, every demigod in existence, they were all on me. My fault, but at least they were demigods and prepared to die young. Coulson, while I may not like him, is just mortal. He deserves to live. I won't have another death on me, it would be on me. He would be dying of shock, a shock that was caused by me, and only me.

Looking around the room in a panic to save him (Speaking of which, shock isn't a good way for a really good and high up agent to die), we noticed that no one else was in a situation to help us. None of them were as bad as him, of course, but none was in a good position. Fury had retreated into his head, Hill was completely spaced out and staring at the wall, Natasha was pacing back and forth like a madman, mumbling Russian curses under her breath. Yeah, none of them would be able to help the two of us, the only level headed guys or gals in the room. And neither of us are that level headed, so something is wrong, I believe. "None of you leave the room," Clint ordered, looking at each one separately, despite knowing there would be no response or acknowledgment of his existence. "We are taking Coulson to the med bay. We will be back soon." Giving everyone a glare, he gestured at me to help him pick up the chair. "It will be easier," he had said. Thankfully, despite Coulson's heaviness due to muscle mass, not fat, both of us were strong enough to pick up both him in the chair. With myself walking backward and Clint navigating, I gave everyone a steely death glare as we left the room, just in case Clint's didn't work out. Mine's better than the god of wars flaming eyes, it definitely better than a mortal's.

Slowly but steadily, the two of us made it into the med bay with no incidents or bumps and plopped the passed out Coulson's chair down next to an empty bed. As Clint went to get one of the workers in the med bay, I sat down on one of the chairs next to Coulson, waiting. I had never been alone with an unconscious mortal before and had absolutely no clue of what to do in the situation. "This is Sirona Alexander, she is one of the people that work in the med bay. Her area of expertise is with comas and other dealings of unconsciousness. We can leave Coulson with her, he'll be in good hands." Based on the tone of his voice and comfortableness, Clint seemed to trust her to do a good job.

Despite his reassurance, I still took a moment to examine the woman and figure her out, then I nodded. The person had been cleared by my awesome reading mortal skills. While I didn't like Coulson that much, I wouldn't want him hurt, especially since it seems like Natasha and Clint both like him. We left the med bay through the vents in order to gain some sense of normalcy and dropped down into the office. It had felt like so long since we had done so, and by now, it felt weird to walk on the floor. In a situation this cuckoo, I'd rather at least go from place to place normally, at least, what was normal for us. For most people, the hall are normal, not the vents. Then again, no one at SHIELD is normal, definitely not myself, Clint, or Natasha. Though it might have been more of Clint rubbing off on her for Natasha.

In the time we had been gone escorting Coulson, all three of them had come to an understanding and most likely had conversed with each other, which was probably a good thing in the long run. If they had done it earlier things might even have gone better with no fainting and almost death. Well, death is still possible, the guy is a mortal, not as durable as my people. But we can't change the past, even Kronos does not have the power to do that, and he's the Titan of time. The most powerful ruler of time in the mythological world, Cronos, a primordial, is only able to stop, speed up, or slow down time on a universal scale, that's the limits for everyone. Though for most the limit is a little bit of a smaller radius than the whole universe. Primordials are extremely strong, as I should know. I have faced three of them, Gaea, Tartarus, and Nyx. Anyway, even in the mythological world, time travel is not possible, sadly. Time travel is like going sub-atomic, its just not possible.

Awkwardly, I asked, "If Coulson fainted in this situation, are you sure he should be our handler?" Since, if a man faints just looking at a sword, it will be way worse when he sees the swords prowess in battle. It most likely wouldn't end well for all four of us, Coulson having fainted and the rest of us not having back up. Not everyone can handle the godly world, especially if they are not clearsighted. Rachel and my mom were able to take, Luke's mom was not. Coulson probably isn't able to either, and I don't want to see another person end up like Luke's mom. That gal is weird, really weird.

Fury contemplated the situation I gave him for a couple of moments before moving closer to Hill and having a hushed conversation with her. "Hill is going to be your group handler and handler for any mission you go on. Neither Barton nor Romanoff can be your handler due to being in the field with you, though Barton is still technically your handler, Hill will be monitoring the comms like Coulson would have originally. But if you lot split up and there are two or three missions going on at once, Hill will take Jackson, Coulson will take the others. Good?" All four of us nodded, being fine with these new arrangements, it worked well for everyone. Hill got to work with the pair that had been named the wonder twins and a demigod, though she didn't know that, Clint and Natasha got a back up handler who could handle a lot of things while still keeping their old one, and I got a handler who would not faint because of my powers.

"Anything else to tell us?" Hill asked, knowing it would be easier to do everything at once. Better now than discover during a mission or have to go back later, as we could interrupt something even more important. Such as a meeting with the World Security Council, Clint had warned me about those bothersome monsters in the vents. If they got a hold of me, it would not end well. They didn't support mutants, which didn't help much. Fury supposedly had to hide all mutants from them and keep the fact that he had people with powers working for him a secret. Then again, his secrets had secrets. Though, I have had enough experience with the Stolls to be able to see right through him. I wasn't gonna mention that though.

"Elevators," I blurted out, getting me questioning looks from everyone. That statement made no sense, looking back on it. No context, nothing, nada. It was a word, one that generated confusion. "I had a bad experience with elevators, I don't like being in them, especially rides that take twelve minutes or longer. I'd rather take the stairs, it's easier and bring back less bad memories." I'm fast enough to go through the stairs as well as an elevator. Or I could just mist travel, it would be faster. Though it is raining. Or ride Blackjack or Mrs. O'leary. I have many options for transportation, though they wouldn't know that. Fury nodded, noting it down on a piece of paper he had pulled out of nowhere. Taking a peek at it, I could see that he had somehow been jotting down everything since we had entered and his own thoughts on Riptide. Hopefully, he wouldn't be able to figure it out. If he did, I would have to pull a trick with the mist. I would rather not do that, plus, I'm not good at manipulating the mist. My two female cousins, yes, me and the rest of the males, no.

There was a couple of minutes of silence. No one knew what to say and it was extremely awkward. I was tempted to yell, "Awkward silence," but I felt that it wouldn't be a good idea with assassins in the room. Seeing that it was silent, Fury assumed that we were all done with the conversation and said, "Dismissed. Also, Barton level 8, Romanoff, 7, Jackson, 4." I had been bumped up 2 levels, the others, only 1. The three of us left through the door, as when dismissed by the director, you get out of there as fast as possible. There are stories and not good ones. Also, if we didn't listen to him, we might get a bad trial mission. Such as one in the desert where I have to use a bow and hit a moving target from a mile away. Bad brain, bad brain, don't think about that.

Sharing a secret smirk, the three of us broke out into a sprint, well a sprint for the humans, a jog for me, towards the room where they made the badges. I made sure to add it to my mental map, figure out the difference between vents and halls. We had traveled through this exact route, same starting place and same finish, just one in the vents and one in the halls. Deciding to press a little harder, the other two had to work much harder to match my speed until they couldn't anymore, reaching the breaking point. Noting their breaking points, I ran at exactly that speed so that we would be running at the top speed of the slowest one in our crew. It would be a good exercise for them and a sort of pace training for me.

When we arrived, I was still breathing easily while both Clint and Natasha were panting, Natasha a little more since we were running at her top speed, which makes sense. According to Annabeth, biology proves that men can run faster than women, which I still think is an excuse for when I beat her when we race. Either way, I was easily the fastest, then Clint, then Natasha, which might be because of age. I'm still in my teens while both adults are in their thirties, Natasha six years older than Clint. Though speed doesn't matter, you just gotta be fast enough to live in life or death situations. Also, both of them had only had practice against humans and are humans, I'm not, I'm half-god, trained with children of the fastest god and nymphs. Somehow I could streamline through the air while running as good as I can while swimming.

Glancing at each other, the assassins pasted their masks on and made their panting almost impossible to notice, even for the trained eye. Hoping they were ready to go, I pulled open the door, hoping that Shara wouldn't be there. That wouldn't end well for any of us, with Clint's ignorance, Shara's flirting, and Natasha's jealousy.

Chapter Text

Maybe the fates have decided to be nice with me for once in my since I had just had a panic attack in front of multiple mortals. Somehow, Shara was not in the room, instead, it was a raven-haired male to my relief. The guy didn't look surprised to see us as he just took our badge and went over to the computer without talking, not even asking. It was weird, as sure, the gods did stuff like that, but their gods, not random people. Plus, when it comes to people in this job, there is bound to many with personal space issues. Not sure how they thought this guy was going to go well with them.

The not talking bit was weird, as most people tend to at least greet people or ask for them to take off their badge, not just grab it. Seriously, only gods pull that type of schist, everyone else, even the Ares cabin is polite enough to alert you before barging into your personal space. Except if there is a fight, but that's the exception. Shaking my head, I took a closer look at his face and neck, noticing that there seemed to be many past injuries near his mouth and his voice box. Not being able to speak could be a possibility. Despite never meeting anyone who was mute, I had heard tales in the horror known as the school system. Teachers hated them as much as they hated dyslexics. Clint slowly moved closer, making to sure to stay where the guy could easily see him while Natasha and I stepped back. Neither of us would be able to communicate with him, well, get responses. Mute does not usually mean deaf, despite most people thinking that.

Both of them waved their hands like crazy, moving them in odd patterns, presumably sign language. Most likely he was telling him about the changes, especially changes in handler and design. Supposedly there would be some things that needed to be changed for what Fury was doing.

Clint made his way back over to us, with visible confusion on his face. "What is wrong with SHIELD," he muttered as he did so. Speaking up, he explained, "SHIELD decided to teach him SEE instead of ASL when he became mute. The least commonly known sign language." In a low voice, he added, "Thankfully I learned all three when I went deaf." Shaking his head, he shook those memories out of his head. "Code name?" he asked me.

That was not a question I had expected him to ask me. I guess you need a code name when you become a field agent. After debating about it for a couple more moments, I stated, "Triton. Greek god and someone with water powers." A trident made of ice appeared in my hands and I subconsciously started twirling it in my hands. Wow, I shouldn't start randomly making weapons out of thin air.

Natasha looked at me strangely. Quickly, I transformed the trident into water vapor while developing an innocent look on my face. Thought it wasn't the trident. "Percy, why are you glowing." I'm glowing?

Even if the major gods are gone, maybe some of the power was left. A blessing waiting for a tribute. Well, the fates know the future, they could have told Triton to bless me and make the blessing take effect when I say his name. This was the first time I had said any water god's name after the deaths. "A blessing," I whispered, refusing to elaborate.

Shaking her head, Natasha pushed Clint at the mute dude so he could tell him what the name was. Minutes later, three new badges were handed to us, truly a different style. They were all black with a grey shield in the background, instead of just a plain black background. The words were white, not grey. Mine said, "Percy Jackson, Triton, Clint Barton, Maria Hill, 4." Natasha's said, "Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow, Phil Coulson, Maria Hill, 7." Clint's said, "Clint Barton, Hawkeye, Phil Coulson, Maria Hill, 8."

Raven hair shook his hands again in odd patterns with random spaces. "Name, code name, handler, group handler, level," Clint translated for the mute dude. That rhymed, huh, never thought about that. With a small smile, Raven pushed us out the door into the empty hall. But, he pushed us into a hall different from the one we entered in. It was a dead end with a panel on the wall and a door near it. Looked a little haunted or as if it hadn't been used in years.

Pulling the door open, it revealed stairs to a small room with a closet. Both Clint and Natasha looked into the room with shock, as if never expecting to see it in their lifetimes. Maria Hill appeared behind all of us, saying, "Upgrade for all of you." I'm not even going to pretend we didn't jump, as we did. I was the highest jumper at probably four feet, seeing that I hit the ceiling. Once the older agents comprehended her statement, they looked at her with more shock, jaws hitting the floor.

Noticing I was the only one with the ability to move at the moment, Hill grabbed my hand and pulled me into the closet like portion of the room, making sure that the door was fully open so the other two could pear in easily. There were five sections, four of them labeled with a season, the last having a giant question mark. Turns out that question mark meant public.

She sent me at summer first, telling me to start and that she was sending in Clint to help. True to her word, Clint popped into the closet and began to help me make decisions for uniforms, making sure I got everything I needed, used the controls correctly and helped me find things with pockets. For the seasons, I took black clothes like he suggested while making sure there was a slight hint of blue on it. He did the same thing after me with the seasons, using purple instead of blue along with a couple of other different choices, before joining me at the one which was now labeled public.

Public confused me, as I thought we were supposed to stay in the shadows. When I asked him, his eyes widened and he said, "The team." Sending a questioning glare at him, he elaborated. "Fury is creating a team to protect the Earth. He's planning to use Iron Man, Hulk, and Captain America. He also wants myself and Natasha there as spies, ranged attacks, and liaisons with SHIELD. I guess he decided you should be part of it too. So go all out here, create a superhero costume."

Smiling, I did exactly as he instructed. With a blue and green color scheme, along with a little black, I created my dream superhero costume, both practical and awesome. Despite demigods being in the shadows, we have always considered ourselves superheroes and while bored have created many different designs for superhero costumes. Then, I saw an extra tab not there before, one dealing with animals. Quickly tapping it, I created armor for both the hellhound and pegasus.

As Clint worked on creating his costume, Natasha joined us in the closet, working at the four season sections. Working quickly, she arrived at public seconds after Clint finished. Sadly, she used practically the same thing as she had for each season, just adding a red belt which she couldn't before as it would be too noticeable. Thank Zeus for Clint has been in the circus, as he created a cool superhero costume instead of just using the same bland old thing, barely.

Together, the three of us walked out of the closet towards Hill. "We'll give you three of each season and two of the public in two days. Now, it's about 8, so I would suggest grabbing something to eat and going to sleep. In five days you are going on a trial mission, so you'll want to get up early to prepare." As if it was an afterthought, she mentioned, "There are cheese and regular burgers."

Sharing a look, Clint and I took off running, Natasha following behind us for a bit before deciding it wasn't worth it. She slowed down to a walk and muttered, "Idiots," before taking a turn into a hallway we missed.

Running into the mess hall, we noticed Natasha calmly sitting at one of the benches eating a normal burger. Turning around with wide eyes, Clint told me, "We missed a turn and went around the long way." Based on his face, he didn't realize this till now. Grumbling we both went to get a cheeseburger to cheer us up.

Of course, Natasha didn't appreciate our wish not to be taunted about this. "Slow and steady wins the race," she called out at our backs. Everyone else in the mess hall backed away as we turned around slowly, Clint holding a throwing card, myself, a water bottle.

While I used the water to shackle her to the table, making her unable to move or twist in any fashion, it all unbreakable, Clint readied his card. I gave him the smallest of nods, telling him to throw the card. It went hurtling through the air towards her chest…

Chapter Text

A rectangular shield, seven feet by four feet, made of wood, covered in kevlar, and rimmed with iron landed right in front of Natasha with a bang. The metal-rimmed card continued on its path toward Natasha, bouncing off the middle of the shield, barely denting it. Well, if kevlar can handle bullets, it easily can handle a small metal rimmed throwing card. Speaking of throwing cards, how the Hades had Clint got one. From my knowledge, those things have never existed, and the Hephaestus kids made anything you could imagine. While I was pondering the existence of throwing cards, Hill walked out from behind the shield and picked up the card, glaring at both Clint and myself.

Tossing the card back at Clint with a soft underhand toss, she hissed, "You children." Turning around, she picked up the shield, which must have been way lighter than it looked, and spun it in a circle on her finger. Spinning on her finger, the shield retracted it's parts towards the middle, leaving her with a shield that wasn't seven by four, but one that was two and a half by one and could easily be strapped onto her back. As I thought she would, she slung the shield over her shoulder in order to both protect her back and transport the shield easily. A leather strap kept the black shield from falling off. The shield thing was definitely one of the best tech ideas SHIELD had had, going with their nickname, protected the back, was easily able to shrink and expand, light, and wouldn't stand out too much. Using kevlar on it was easily one of the best ideas they could have had. This was making me really want one of those shields. If monsters used bullets and I knew about it, I would have had cabin nine making these in bulk. "Now, Percy, release Natasha." Muttering more to herself, she added, "I leave you alone for ten minutes and you are already almost killing each other. I knew I was going to regret taking the job as a handler."

Sighing, I waved a hand and all the ice surrounding turned to water vapor, letting me have a little bit of fun wetting her with what was basically steam, came over to me, turned to liquid water, and drenched me. It felt so good and energized me more than the cheeseburger could have ever had. Fully waking up for the first time at SHIELD, seeing that I didn't want them to know that much, plus, me at full energy was a lot, I quickly dried both myself and the cheeseburger, along with the floor, but not bothering to do so to what of the splash landed on Clint. I would not start drying people off now, I wouldn't do so to any of my cousins, my girlfriend, my mom, or anyone else, I'm not gonna start with a mortal who is fourteen years older than me and I've known for only five days, despite him being my friend and superior. "Sorry," I mumbled dejectedly, towards both Natasha and Hill, Natasha for restraining her, Hill for acting as immature as I did. While most don't consider me an adult, I'm still technically eighteen and a legal adult. I knew I overreacted, but I've been antsy with no monster attacks for five days. It's also making me bored, I'm not used to not fighting for more than two hours, so I want to move, fight, something.

Clint made no move to apologize, standing his ground firmly. When we all stared at him, waiting, Natasha and Hill glaring, myself not as I don't want to scare him, he snapped. "She was the one who started it, insulting us when we were down," he snarled, not bothering to worry about his tone to the third in command of his organization. "The most important thing and the first thing SHIELD taught us was not to do that. It's what separates us from the villains and mercenaries. What makes us heroes. We take them down fast, with as little pain on their part as possible. They make it hurt, make it lengthy, hit us when we have already surrendered. We don't. I'm not going to apologize for fighting over something that goes against the fundamental rules of being a hero. And that's what we are supposed to be." Turning on his heel, he walked out of the room. Looking back on it, I'm imagining a purple cape with a black H on it, sort of like Supermans, flying behind him. With the way he was walking, it was in the most dramatic of ways, sort of like how superheroes would walk with a building blowing up behind them like in movies. Taking his bow, he shot an arrow, grappling up to the ceiling and entering the vents. The vent cover was already off, making me think he had prepared for a situation like this, not knowing when it would happen, but knew it would at one point. But the main thing was that he was leaving us. It made me wonder how we will come back together, the two eldest members of our three-person crew fighting. And I would be stuck in the middle, especially since I agree with both sides. I'd say this once, I'd say it again, this ain't gonna end well.

All three of us remaining exchanged glances, unsure of what to do next. Well, I knew what I was going to do, lay low and let them handle it themselves. Along with pray that it will be fine in time for the trial mission and they will still train me. The skills might help with monsters, as they could teach me ranged fighting along with tyles of hand to hand. Everyone else in the hall had sat down together at tables far away from the situation, discussing it in hushed voices about what happened, fangirling and boying, along with discussing Clint's words on what it means to be a hero. Though I wouldn't blame them about that, his speech was amazing, most definitely on the level of the rousing speeches I would give the demigods before big battles and quests to lift spirits, long, long ago. Before they all died a year and seven days ago. Keeping us all a family, being the backbone can't be my role again after that big of a loss. In a team of superheroes though, Clint's role would be the glue, sticking everyone together and making sure that it doesn't end up in one big fight. Making sure morals are stuck to, that we don't accidentally become the villains ourselves. Keeping us sane, a family, heroes, not a disaster waiting to happen. He would be the backbone, just like I had so long ago.

Deciding to leave the decision making up to the two older female agents, I went and grabbed two more cheeseburgers and stuffed them down my throat. With access to more food than I had ever had access to in over a year, I was sure to take advantage of it. Plus, demigods need to eat more than most do to godly blood, the more powerful you are, the more you have to eat. And I'm pretty powerful. Turning towards Hill and Natasha, I explained my side, making the issue, black, white, an blue. Since most are black and white with two sides, this time there are three sides, so I added my favorite color. I know it doesn't make sense, so please don't remind me of the fact. Well, the fact I had no side, seeing that side blue was not taking a stance, letting it sizzle down on its own. "I'm not picking a side, but you better fix it by the trial mission. Preferably by tomorrow so we can train the whole time allotted. Now, I'm heading to bed. You two have better made up and all three of you should come to a consensus by 600 tomorrow morning. I'll be up and eating breakfast right here. I expect the three of you to meet me there and brief me on the decision you have made." Not waiting for a response from the other two agents, I headed out in what was hopefully the right direction. Looking at the hall, I noticed it wasn't the one from our journey earlier today. Ducking back in, I found the right exit and did exactly the opposite from that morning, which lead me straight to my room.

Spotting my door, which had a splash of blue paint on the middle of it, I entered the room and locked the door, along with padlocking the vent cover, making sure that none could intrude. Good agents probably could bypass all my precautions, so I also ice the areas, making sure the ice was unmeltable and as hard as steel. None were going to enter my room while I was sleeping tonight. Knowing that SHIELD already knew I had magical things due to the Riptide reveal, I grabbed a different pair of clothes to sleep in from the backpack, along with my panda pillow pet 2.0, 1.0 having been destroyed by Octavian. Now I'm missing Octavian, so the world must have ended, I have always hated him. Guess with them all being gone for good, I'm missing even the evil ones, the ones who hated my guts. The main reason for using my clothes instead of SHIELD pajamas was because they were extremely annoying and itchy SHIELD issue ones that didn't even fit, so, I would rather my own protective clothes that were comfortable enough to sleep in. Making sure that everything was secure and ready to go if there was an attack, the monsters managing to finally find me, I tossed Mrs. O'leary and Blackjack some food and a treat, told them goodnight, and plopped down onto the bed. Immediately, I fell asleep and had a demigod dream, the second at SHIELD. And I had been unconscious for two of them and the third I didn't sleep. So I've had a dream every time I slept naturally at SHIELD.

There was a very large gathering of monsters in my dream, with basically every monster that was in America and alive. Guess that explains why they aren't attacking me, as every monster at this exact moment is either reforming or there. So none have come to attack. But why? All had gathered in an abandoned cornfield in North Dakota, there was easily over ten thousand monsters gathered there. The number was extremely surprising, I had thought there was under maybe five thousand monsters in the word. That theory had now been proved wrong though. That, or they went on a giant breeding spree. Along with numbers, there were many different types of monsters there. Cyclops, Empousai, Drakens, Sphinxes, Harpies, Daemons, Centaurs, Hydras, Keres, Laestrygonians, Hyperboreans, and even more. I think there were some titans and giants there as well, hidden among the masses. Along with monsters that there were not multiple of, like Medusa and the Minotaur. This most likely was not going to end well for me. I may be good, but that is to many monsters for me to handle.

Medusa was standing on the little pedestal, which was really a stone platform shaped like a circle with a radius of eight, that the monsters had in the middle of the cornfield, most likely where the speaker at the moment would stand. My main problem with this is how would all of these monster hear whoever is talking. While many had enhanced senses, hearing included, others like the Minotaur had either terrible or average hearing. Maybe monsters relayed the statements all the way around the field. "As we all know," she was saying. I must have intruded in the middle of a long speech. One that was most likely done by five monsters taking turns, seeing as Lamia, Ma Gasket, Kelli, and the Lydian Drakon were all in a small spot next to the platform. They were sharing the speech, it being Medusas turn to talk at the moment. "The only target we have has entered a safe zone controlled by SHIELD. But, if he is staying there, they will most likely put him to work." Loud cheering was heard around the field. As if me being put to work was a good thing for them. But why, how does me being in a safe zone help them? It made no sense at all.

Lamia pushed Medusa off the pedestal and into the area Lamia and the other three were, slithering onto the pedestal. "We wait for him to exit the zone on a misssssion," she hissed. That was how me being put to work would help. That would get me out of the safe zone and into an area with crime and most likely many people. It would be easier for them to kill me if I'm focused on helping others. Especially if I get emotionally attached to them. Though, while they think it will help them, it will make me fight harder. Better. I can use their ideas against them, when I protect, have a purpose, I try harder and will use the full extent of my powers. All I need to do is control their blood. Just have to control the blood of many thousands of monsters at once. Maybe it's a bit more complicated than I thought. "Make a plan, kill the annoying mortalsssss, attack him as a group, kill him for once and for all. Then, there will be no one to sssssstand in our way and we ssssshall rule the world."

That meant they knew why I was able to beat them, they were working separately. I can easily kill them that way, a group is much harder. But before I could think about that longer, the most general monster of the five, Ma Gasket, a cyclops took the center field. All of them were powerful, especially Medusa, Lamia, and the Lydian Drakon. Kelli is powerful due to her charm speak, thank the gods I'm not affected by it. But, Ma Gasket is just a basic Cyclops, and there are Cyclopses more powerful than her. Maybe she was the smartest the Cyclopses had to offer, as the smart ones were on the gods' side and a Cyclops was supposed to join the main five as a forger. "We overwhelm him. He's a good fighter, but can he handle over a thousand monsters out, and whenever one is gone, another takes its place?" Even louder cheering was heard from all across the field. The fact that they figured out what to do scared me. With that information, they can easily kill me and it's easy to take control of the world once the last thing from mythology that stands in your way is gone.

Kelli hobbled up and took the stand from Ma Gasket. "Empousa and any other creatures with charm speak will get close to attack. While distracted, land troops will move in. Flying creatures move in from the air. We will have both ranged and melee troops, along with backup from the monsters who don't make it into the first 600." This just showed how the monsters had gotten smarter, which isn't good. Then again, Empousa were some of the smarter monsters, so maybe it was just that. Though that thought was most likely not true, especially with my luck. All of the monsters quickly split up from there into five groups. Even worse, they have started planning, meaning they will attack soon. Well, they will attack in five days, so yeah, I guess they will attack soon, very soon. Each of the five controlled one, Ma Gasket controlling group one, taking all of the strong melee fighters. Medusa took group four, made of the more specialized monsters. Lamia took group two or the ranged fighters. Kelli took group five or the infiltrators, those with mind powers like charm speaking. The Lydian Drakon, who was easily the most famous of the drakons, who could only be killed by a child of Ares. She took group three, those who could fly. That would be a problem, and I didn't know Drakons, like their cousins, Dragons, could fly. That would not be good, with those five females leading the fight, especially when one wouldn't be able to be killed. There are no children of Ares left in the world. No children of Ares on the side of the gods at least. If I could get a monstrous son of Ares to turn, then we could kill her. I wonder if Eurytion is alive, he might be able to help. Or possibly anyone could kill the drakon now since all children of Ares are dead, and possibly Ares himself. I'll just have to hope the fates are kind, something they rarely are.

Listening to the main five talk, I realized that there were fifteen thousand monsters there, which, if they came in groups of six hundred would mean that for each initial monster attacking there were twenty-four backup monsters. Per monster, not in total. It wasn't good odds for me. At least, I have figured out why they wouldn't attack, looks like the SHIELD base is warded off, leaving one aspect of my own personal mission done. Though that bit had been done for a while, and if I just sit here, protecting myself, they will harm the rest of the world. I can't do that, meaning I would have to fight against impossible odds. But, I had been wondering why I was given so much metal when the backpack was left for me. Maybe I could teach SHIELD to fight monsters and melt the metal in order to get them weapons. That was something to think about later when I was awake though, right now I need to gather more information.

Digging deeper into the horrible dream, I found that there were 5,000 melee fighters under Ma Gasket and 4,000 ranged under Lamia. There were 3,000 flying monsters under the Lydian Drakon, 2,000 specialized under Medusa, and 1,000 manipulators under Kelli. Each was split into twenty-five subgroups under the five big groups. Meaning that there would be 200 melees, 160 ranged, 120 flyings, 80 special, and 40 manipulators in each of the twenty-five heats. That was a lot, and definitely not a good a lot. I was most likely doomed unless I could figure something out, and fast. With so many monsters preparing to attack when we go on the trial mission. Plus, even if they are only coming for me, they will hurt Hill, Clint, and Natasha. Guess I'll bring the bag with me to breakfast and brief them on this. I owe it to them, I'm the one who will be placing them in this position, even if they most likely won't agree with me on that. They are my friends, I'll protect them with my life. My fatal flaw is still loyalty, even with all my loyalties shattered when they all died, I already have four new ones in Natasha, Clint, Hill, and Fury, along with having Blackjack and Mrs. O'leary.

A loud ringing sound echoed throughout my room and I sat straight up. It was the alarm I set for 530. Calming myself down, I got ready for the day, swinging the backpack over my shoulder when I was ready. Tossing food to Blackjack and Mrs.O'leary, I then trotted down to the mess hall, not even bothering to get food, instead grabbing a pencil and pad of paper out of my bag and began to brainstorm in Ancient Greek, waiting and trying to figure out how to survive the attack and break the news to Hill, Natasha, and Clint.

Chapter Text

Hill strolled into the mess hall as if it was nothing big, most likely since there were no rookie agents staring at her in wonder due to her being third in command of the agent side of SHIELD. Usually, with the big wigs in places, people tend to crowd them, making them not exactly that confident in public spots. Also, spies tend to try and stay in the background, not stroll straight into a room confidently. Then again, unless you have something really important to deal with, you do not come to the mess hall at 5:45 am on a Friday morning in summer, even at SHIELD. So, there was only us two in the mess hall, other than one person working in the kitchen and two older agents discussing things in the corner. Kitchen Dude wouldn't be able to see her, Agent Uno and Dos were intimately discussing a mission, so all of us were pretty distracted.

When she sat down at my table right then at 5:45 in the morning, it made my top ten most awkward moments of SHIELD. That is a hard list to get on top of, since I have had a lot of awkward moments at SHIELD. If your handlers/mentors are giant superstars among people at the place you work, there is bound to be plenty of extremely awkward moments. Anyway, there was an extremely awkward silence, as the two older agents conversation paused as the began to discreetly watch us and neither I nor Hill began a conversation. The older agents failed at the discreet part though, it was painfully obvious that they were watching us.

Being ADHD and out of practice of dealing with people, I only could manage the awkward silence for so long before I would break it. Despite me being used to silence, there was never awkward silences. Especially since the moment things were getting awkward and silent, Blackjack would ask for donuts to break it up. Usually, I complied in order to get us out of whatever the situation is. Today, during the beginning of my getting used to awkward silences again, I only lasted five seconds, ending it by blurting out, "What's the deal with Natasha and Clint?" That most likely was not a good idea, as it definitely would gain the attention of anyone that could hear, no matter the situation. It definitely did today, Agent Uno and Dos didn't even bother to be discreet anymore and Kitchen Dude poked his head out to watch.

She looked at me strangely, as if she didn't expect me to care that much, or maybe she thought I would ask about what she was doing here first. That or she was mad for bringing even more attention to us. There was definitely nothing discreet about my statement. Hopefully, it wasn't a test, 'cause if that was a test on my patience, ability to be quiet, and discreetness with questions, I failed. Epically failed. Flunked with an absolute zero out of one hundred, no chance of not getting an F. All answers wrong, with the least likely answer on each and work that made no sense at all. If they kicked me out, I would be dead. Dead, dead, not even afterlife dead. I'd be to far dead to go to an afterlife. "They are on their way," she finally answered. "I locked them in a room together at 500, telling them I wouldn't let them out until they came to a consensus and apologized to each other." A moment later, she asked, "Would you like to check on them?"

My head bounced up and down like a bobblehead, nodding so much I thought it would fall off. Of course, what she did was not what I wanted. I wanted to actually see them, but she brought out a tablet, one which was connected to a video camera in their room. That must be how she would know when they made up. You know what, not having technology at camp was a pretty good idea. We demigods are not phone and other technology addicts, we actually have face to face conversations with each other. Our only way of communicating long distance costs a big piece of gold, so that is not used that much. Only a few calls a week. Also, we play outside. Being stuck in an area that I can use technology and there is a bunch of advanced new technology being created is going to be odd for me. Really, we aren't seeing them, we are watching them through security cameras. Seriously, that is definitely messed up in my point of view.

Looking at the fairly large black tablet in front of me, all I saw was them staring at each other. There was literally just a staring contest between the two of them. If they are not being violent, why don't we just visit them? If for some reason they aren't allowed to see us, there is probably one-way glass, so we can look through a window. There is definitely something very wrong in this technology-dominated world. "They just came to a consensus a minute ago," Hill whispered, distracting me from my mental rant about the horrors of technology. "Now, they just got to do is apologize." Eventually, one of them had to blink, and Natasha did so first. In a mumbled matter, she apologized for taunting him, then Clint quickly did the same thing she did for throwing one of his throwing cards at her.

Smiling a very odd smile, that looked strange on her face, Hill pulled the tablet away from me and messed with some of the buttons on it, unlocking the doors. I still have no clue how she did that, and the younger generation like my own is supposed to be the tech-savvy people, not the oldies. Whatever, I was raised with no electronics at all and she is high in command of a highly technologically advanced government agency, normal does not exist here. Two minutes after Hill messed with the buttons, Natasha and Clint came barreling into the mess hall, Natasha vaulting over the table and sliding into the seat next to Hill, Clint sliding into the one next to me. "What did we miss?" they asked in unison, panting heavily. They must have sprinted.

"Nothing." Hill turned to look at me, noticing that I went back to scribbling in my notebook, along with the bag next to me. Moments after she had taken the tablet back, I had gotten bored and went back to planning. This was a life or death situation, with very bad odds for me, I want to have as much prep time as possible and use it as best as I can. "But I have a feeling Agent Jackson has something to tell us." All of them turned to look at me, staring.

Slamming the notebook shut, I began to form a response. Telling SHIELD about the gods would be a bad idea, but so would be going into this situation without help. With them going to be in the blast zone, they should no ahead of time if possible. Building a plan to tell them about the monsters, get help, and not let anyone know about the gods was going to be tough. Maybe even fun, that is, if you are part of the Athena or Hermes cabin. Athena for strategy, Hermes for deceiving. But I'm Poseidon, I'll need to do something different. "I had a dream," I began, stalling for extra time to prepare my speech. Thankfully, Clint decided to give me some extra time while Natasha and Hill stared at me weirdly. Though, I'm not sure if I like Clint's way of buying me some extra time, as it is sort of insulting too many, such as Hazel.

Clint was buying me some extra time with quips, scathingly asking me, "Who are you, Martin Luther King Junior in a different tense?" That got him harsh glares from Natasha and Hill as they berated him for insulting an important historical figure in the civil rights movement. Guess they don't like quips like that in the government. That, and Fury is African American with eyes everywhere, so that might have not been that good of an idea on Clint's part. Then again, Clint has always rubbed me as the person who would be insulting their superiors constantly. Sort of like me, except insulting people closer to his level than I was. Thanks, dad for Zeus not smiting me fifteen times already.

"Dad and all of my family on his side are dead," I stated bluntly, continuing with my story. "All that is left from that side of the family is me. And we've got enemies. A lot of them. For some reason, SHIELD is a safe zone, somewhere they can't get into. But, our enemies stand 15,000 strong and are going to attack the moment I exit the area. Before you say just to stay here, I'm gonna say that I'm not gonna leave normal humans to be attacked by them. The rest of SHIELD couldn't do it while I stay here either." Pulling out a golden dagger, I elaborated on that point of them not being able to kill them, saying, "They only can be killed by weapons made out of special materials. But if I could access a forge, I could smelt down all that I got to make new weapons."

Natasha decided to get it all moving instead of waiting five seconds for me to fully catch my breath. My act first ask questions observation of her was accurate. When not on a mission, she wanted all the information, and fast. She was not one to wait around and stall for time. "And?"

Picking up both my bag and the notebook, throwing them onto the middle of the table, I started to mentally finish my response. They wouldn't be able to understand my notes or access the backpack anyway, so it being in a spot they can access wouldn't make that much of a difference. Then, before they tried to understand my notes or access the bag, I physically said my response. "And," I gave Natasha a quick look glance, "after that we've got to train every fighter we got to be able to fight them. Guns won't work, bows will. Though, ammo would be very annoying. We could set up a group of snipers using bows. Clint, you could be in charge of that. Everyone else, it is either hand to hand or melee. They can be hurt by blunt force from your body, but that wouldn't be suggested, it's hard to kill them that way and it's pretty dangerous. We will want to use swords, spears, knives, and daggers. Shields can be made of normal materials, as they are not weapons. Powers affect them as well. I can not count how many of them I had drowned over the years."

For some reason, they all nodded, as if this was not anything strange. Maybe they had watched too many movies where things like this happen. Actually, what if Men in Black was an introductory film for SHIELD agents? That would explain why almost nothing surprises them and why they have such high spy standards for themselves. Hill went ahead and dispatched orders as if this was a normal day at SHIELD. Like gigantic threats that can only be killed with special things and their normal weapons wouldn't work happened at least once a month. That is kind of crazy. Seriously, is there alien invasions almost every year? At this rate, I'd believe it. "Barton, pick fourteen other snipers to train as archers. Romanoff, gather every other agent who does not have powers and begin to train a third of them on dual-wielding daggers. I will deal with spears and Coulson will do swords. Jackson, I'll bring you to the forge and then you are to give them all your metals and show them how to make arrowheads, spears, swords, and daggers. Once they have that done, go to the mess hall, all agents with powers will be there. You do what you want with them." Clint ran off to handpick his fourteen archers while Natasha went to Fury's office. Hill began to lead me in the direction of the forge.

Over the loudspeakers, Fury's voice echoed throughout the halls and rooms. "There is an impending attack on the world. There are fifteen thousand of these villains, and they can only be killed by specific materials." Once his short explanation was finished, which managed to shrink my whole long story into two sentences, he began to doll out orders. "Snipers, head to the range, Hawkeye will pick fourteen of you out to be trained as archers. If you have powers, go to the mess hall. Our new recruit is an extremely powerful mutant who has experience with these villains. He will train you. If you know how to work the forge, go down there to help. Our recruit will bring the materials and show you what to make. Every other agent, head to the gym. Once there, split into even groups with even amounts of all genders, races, ages, and clearances. Black Widow, Agent Coulson, and Agent Hill will explain things from there. Rejected snipers should also meet there after heading to the range."

Crackling, the loudspeaker turned off. As it did so, there was a mass stampede through the halls. Hill told me she would have to try and get to the gym, so follow the crowd to the forge. As the impending stampede came closer, I prepared to be run over. It was a little stampede, hundreds of agents running through the halls. It sounded loud as well. I'm sort of sorry though, as I made them wake up at 5:50 on a Friday morning in the summer, but I can apologize later. Though the agents were a little too excited and chipper for this early. Despite purposely waking up this early, I was almost asleep on my feet. These agents were woke up by a warning on the loudspeaker and are acting as awake as one would be at noon. Guess SHIELD agents are really trained for everything, from handling underwater earthquakes, to alien invasions, to economics, to waking up early

Following a random guy who looked a bit like most of the Hephaestus kids, I ended up in the large forge meant for only fifty people at once with one hundred other people. Guess that there would be two to each station, once I get my butt out of there. One guy grabbed me and shoved me into the middle of the room. "That is the recruit," he grunted. "The young one." Being in my teens makes it very easy for myself to be spotted as the guy who caused this mess. Most likely that would not end well for me. Great.

All of them looked at me expectedly, so I grabbed an empty bin made for scrap metal and dumped all of my gold, bronze, silver, steel, ivory, weapons or otherwise, into it. Once I showed them how to make one arrowhead, spear, sword, and dagger from each material, I high tailed it out of there to the mess hall, which was most likely not going to be that much better. Actually, it would probably be even worse

Entering the mess hall, I saw about thirty people staring at me. Thirty older people. Much older people. Despite being able to manage about three hundred plus other teens with crazy powers at once, I wilt in front of only thirty older people, whose powers are most likely weaker than mine or even an average demigod's. "You the recruit?" one asked me gruffly when I ran in. I nodded quickly, a little unnerved. "Good. Show us how to kill these creatures with our powers."

Quickly responding to move the attention off me, I began with, "Each of you, tell me your name and power or powers. An example would be great if you are willing and it won't cause to much damage."

Chapter Text

All of the agents stared at me like I was crazy, none of them bothering to do anything. It was unnerving, having thirty adults, most between the ages of thirty and fifty (There were two in their twenties), staring at you without blinking. It was also a very awkward silence, making it even worse. When all of them blinked at me in unison without making a sound, I was about to run for it. It was definitely the scariest thing I had seen in a long time. Well, most of them did so. The younger of the twenty year olds did not blink, instead, she smiled kindly.

As I was edging towards the door, the girl in her early twenties with black hair stood forward confidently, not caring about the others. Well, she most likely didn't care about them, seeing as she did not do the things in unison like the rest of them. She just stuck out her hand and greeted me, saying, "Hi, I'm Skye. I can create earthquakes along with other vibrations." While I walked back to my previous position in front of them, she walked forward too, meeting me there to shake my hand. After the shake, she asked, "Who are you? Fury didn't tell us over the speakers."

After speaking, she attempted to retreat back into the mass of people, but as she tried to go back to her spot, they all blockaded her, scowling. Most likely she was an outcast among the super-powered community at SHIELD. Still smiling, Skye just stood in front of them, clearly not bothered by the bad attitudes of her coworkers showed. The only thing she did was give me a smile that said, "They are prejudiced idiots, don't worry about them."

Looking at Skye for support, who gave me a smile, encouraging me to face the older agents with powers, I began to speak. "I'm Percy Jackson," I told them, introducing myself. It got nothing but silence, no moving at all. There was no evidence that they had received that information. "I can control water in all forms, most liquids, see things in dreams, summon storms, create earthquakes, along with being able to talk to some animals." That might make me seem too powerful for a teen though. I quickly added, "But with most of them I have limited abilities and control." While they should know I'm powerful, it isn't good if they think I am a master of all those things. With people like these, you don't want to seem like too much of a threat, or they will try and eliminate you. It would be bad if I have to destroy my only group of powerful allies, all others being humans, plus, I'm not sure if I could beat all twenty-nine of them. Skye is a bit of a wildcard on what side she would fight on. Hopefully mine, it would be nice to have an ally. Especially one around my age. After all, she was only five years older than me.

Smiling, Skye responded with a, "Cool!" As an afterthought, she added, "Maybe we can train together for creating earthquakes when all of this blows over." Turning towards the other agents, she hollered, "If you don't introduce yourself, I'm going to." While that didn't seem like much of a threat, there must be more to that statement then there seemed. Maybe she would introduce them all with embarrassing nicknames, just like Leo would of. Actually, that might be more entertaining than watching them just say their names one at a time with no emotions.

The twenty-nine of them huddled in the middle of the room, talking between themselves. I guess they decided they did not want Skye introducing them, as one of them stepped forward. He was the guy who asked if I was the recruit earlier, and I guess the spokesperson for the whole group. Most likely not the leader though, the chemistry was not right for that. In reality, he seemed like an underdog among the group. Well, he looked like the second youngest not including Skye, so that makes sense. Having me think he was the leader was probably their plan, but it wasn't going to work. He must be their scapegoat at the moment. Probably had a way to get away, but was not the best fighter. Pointing at each person, first himself than everyone else, he said their names, no emotion at all, just like I had thought. "Gordon, Lincoln, Eva, Katya, Alisha, Joey, Lash, Lori, Hive, Giyera, Elena, Lucio, Eden, Androvich, JT, Vijay, Tucker, Alison, Ava, Sebastian, Jessica, Kurt, Jiaying, Raina, Raven, Aamir, Kamala, Kamran, Brian." Once he listed all of the names, he went back into the group. Just saying though, they had some weird names. Also, looked like they were from all over the world, just based off their skin and names.

Thankfully, I still had my ability to remember names from when I had to remember the names of all the Greeks and most of the Romans. It might have been a year since I was a friend to everyone, memorizing every name there was, but it was not a skill I had lost. Thirty names was a piece of blue cake compared to that. The only problem was they refused to share their powers with me. Also, the mess hall isn't a great place to train. Very easy to destruct something for good here, much easier than most places. Guess I will make them have to show their powers to survive.

Striding towards Skye, the only one I was willing the approach in this group, I whispered, "Could you contact Fury? We need a place to train and what not." Nodding, she pressed on a black earpiece that I had yet to notice. Actually, it looked like everyone had one, including Natasha, Clint, and Hill in my memories. Most likely Natasha didn't go to Fury's office then, just called him on the run. Whatever, I'll deal with my lack of observation and earpiece later. Mumbling into her hand, she must have called Fury, asking him where to take everyone. She then told me to follow her with her hand gestures, beginning to leave the room. "All of you, follow me," I shouted at the older agents, before following Skye out to where Fury sent us.

We arrived on the third floor, where there was a large room with a great variety of things in it. Half the room though was a simulation room, which would be useful. It was labeled, "Power Playspace," so there were many things that you could test your powers on and manipulate them. The simulation in there must be different than the one in normal training areas then. Also, do you need powers to play in here, or what? Deciding to worry about that later, I turned around to see if the older agents had followed me, and surprisingly, they had. Guess they are afraid, or maybe they are just curious. Whatever the reason, it was a win for me.

"Now what?" Lash grunted. I hadn't yet thought that far ahead yet. Looking around for what to do to stall for time, I spotted an empty whiteboard and an expo marker. Grabbing it, I drew a line at the top, then another going down. Labeling one side, "Names," I wrote everyone's name on the board, including mine. On the other side, I labeled it, "Powers," then listed my powers next to my name. After double checking there would be enough room for extra sections if necessary, I handed the marker to Skye. I would need her help for the next bit in the plan I had just created, so it was best to get her to finish this first.

She walked over to the board, confused, asking me what to do with her eyes. "Everyone, write down your power or powers next to your name. I will figure out what to do next from there." As the older agents reluctantly wrote down their powers, I employed Skye's in helping me mess with the simulations. What I needed was a real simulation of monsters and their powers, making more monsters and tougher monsters after each level. SHIELDs normal simulations would not suffice, as they do not have any options with opponents similar to what I'm looking for. Also, I had to make it so that if they try and use weapons or strategies that would usually not kill a monster, it would not work. It was designed to be hard, most likely the adults would get between 50 and 200 points based on their limited experience.

Half of the room was employed in the simulation, which was usually a different type of simulation, a quarter for other training to do while waiting, and a quarter for watching those in the simulation and taking notes. Telling them that we will go one at a time and the objective would be killing as many monsters as possible without dying. Skye offered to go first, but I told her that I would go first as an example, but she could go second. Most likely, I would get in the 500-700 range based off prior calculations, using the calculator that we had added to the counter in order to figure out what someone should get, then see how they actually do.

Entering the simulation, I reminded myself using Riptide was not allowed for fighting the monsters. These guys most likely wouldn't be using weapons, the only weapons being powers and their bodies, so that is unfair if I use it, along with myself already able to easily do this. It would be even worse if I set a bad example of what to do by using a weapon. Also, I would do much better than them, so I didn't really want to rub to much salt into the wound. Immediately when I entered the arena, three basic monsters bombarded me. Easily, I dodged them, then strangled them using the water vapor, colling it in and squishing their necks. I continued to strangle monsters easily until some of the harder ones showed up. Then, I caused an earthquake inside, knocking them off their feet and started up a hurricane. As it swirled around me, nothing could get close. In there, I was a killing machine.

Eventually, I got tired and overwhelmed by too many monsters and to many good monsters, leaving me to get my first injuries in the simulation. Soon, with injuries piling up and many monsters fighting me at once, I died. Exiting the simulation, I went and pulled up the statistics from my fight. The numbers surprised me, I had managed to get 1,000 points based on the point system myself and Skye had created. In the simulation, I had managed to kill five hundred basic monsters, two hundred advanced monsters, and twenty legendary monsters. Somehow, I had lost myself, immersed myself in the fight and lost track of things. I had let go, I didn't hold back.

Writing my score and ratios on the column I has added onto the whiteboard, I was still in shock. Everyone else was in shock, not expecting anything like that, from me or anyone else. Maybe my show of dominance will help them understand I'm powerful, in charge, and not a chew toy for them to play with. That they can all learn something from me, even if I don't have any similar powers to them. As a killing machine who had trained many people, they would be easy to train if they cooperated.

Opening the door, I let Skye into the simulation, immediately shutting the door behind her. Giving her a small smile, I flicked the switch to start the simulation, ready to examine her fighting style. How she fought surprised me. She would run around in circles, much faster than I would expect by a person of their build unless they were a demigod, using the environment to her advantage until a bunch of monsters were grouped together, all following her. Then, she would lead them into a building. While escaping the building, she would send an earthquake so the building would fall on them and kill them all at once. It was actually a pretty good strategy if there were no people in the building, there was building in the first place, and no one cares about property damage.

Of course, she died at one point, definitely much sooner than me. Then again, I had a better variety of powers and more experience than everyone else. All she had was 100 points or one hundred basic monsters killed. Much more than I would expect from her though, so compared to my expectations, it was good, against me, it was not the best. She was creative though, and with her powers, you would need that. The only blatantly obvious problem with her strategy was that she destroyed too much property, amongst a couple of other things.

Now, it was time for the older agents to go. Deciding it would be easiest to send them in order of their names on the wall, I told Gordon to go into the simulation room.