Chapter 1: Time to Punch Some Baddies
Chapter Text
You are a warrior, you are guided by wisdom and courage. Don’t hesitate to act, your mind is clear and your heart is brave.
This was something your mother said to you often. When you felt lost, when hope was all gone, and the pain was unbearable. You were made of fire and discipline; you will answer the call in your heart to act. Those words spurred you on when you thought the hardest obstacle was to get up and rise again.
You say the same thing to the high school girls hockey team you coach, but they still think you’re a nut job.
“Cmon girls, fight for it!” You shouted over the noise, cupping your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice to the girls that were giving their all out on the ice.
The crowd was wild; your girls made it to state for the third year in a row and they were absolutely kicking ass. This last game was a fight; you and your girls both knew it. Rallying the troops was your speciality; these girls were not here for a flag that would hang in the rafters of your rink stating that they just got this far. They wanted a flag and a tropy that said state champs. They weren’t going to have it any other way.
The decibels in the rink were reaching downright dangerous and your ears were ringing. This was the part of the battle you loved most; the apex was being reached, the clock was ticking down, there was so little time to win, it all boiled down to pure skill, agility, and speed. You put your girls through hell to prepare them for a fight; the competition for state was immense, and it had required their best to get where they are now.
Your star forward was weaving and working pure magic with the puck, trusting her team to see her through, and give her the path she needed to get the puck in the goal. With just 3 seconds left on the clock, she managed the most beautiful goal you had ever seen. The goal horn went off right as the puck sailed past the goalie’s head and slammed into the top left corner of the net. The buzzer screamed out and your girls had brought the trophy home once more. The feeling of euphoria hit your neurons and you felt your limbs ignite as you screamed into the rink. The rush and exhilaration swirled in your eyes as you watched your girls celebrate their hard earned victory.
There was nothing better than winning a fight as competitive and ferocious as this.
————-
You hauled your heavy duffels through the door of your Brooklyn apartment, dropping keys, pairs of shoes and skates along the way. You heaved as you strewed your things about, utterly exhausted after the ride on the bus home. Your ears still rang from the crowd and from the girls shrieking their ears off on the bus. The pure joy that radiated off these teenagers was contagious, leaving you sauntering off the bus with a huge grin on your face and a tingle in your toes. After a celebration at the high school with parents and school board members clapping you on the back, it was time to head home.
You collapsed onto your worn couch, feeling absolutely drained but in the best way. As time passed after you replayed almost every play in your mind, you felt your joy simmer into melancholy, your eyes drifting open and adjusting to the dimness of your apartment, yearning for a friend or two to share the victory with.
It had been a long time since you spent any time with people other than the high schoolers you coached.
As exhilarating as the highs and lows of high school hockey, rugby, and volleyball were, you used to get the rush from far more lethal activities. Your apartment was small and fairly empty, leaving no trace of the person who lived here and made a home here. The only point of any customization was a small shelf sparsely filled with what looked like knick-knacks and a couple photo frames. Your eyes drifted to the frame holding the picture of you and a few of your co-agents on your first day at S.H.I.E.L.D. Your smile was bright and your arms were draped across two other women, all three of you dressed in your best business professional outfits. Your high hopes for your future at the organization were palpable in the way you held yourselves and dressed, but oh, were you three in for the ride of your lives.
You felt the pang of grief strike your gut like a knife; twisting until your high from earlier turned into a burning guilt. You missed those girls more than words could describe. The fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. took more than just your career projection; it took everything that you held close in your small, small world.
But you were all too familiar with the feeling.
You felt yourself being pulled under in a pool of despair you had made and forced yourself into until a shrieking pulled you back to the surface. You felt yourself gasp for air as your eyes snapped to the corded phone on your wall that was ringing.
Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you pried yourself off of the couch and shuffled over to the phone. Whoever was calling wasn’t giving you a congrats for the win; you noticed the dim, neon green clock on your microwave that read 12:49am.
You picked the phone up, pressing the old, yellow plastic up to your face.
“I owe you a congrats, coach.”
Well how about that shit.
You snorted, recognizing the voice and feeling the crumb of tension in your shoulders release. “Already keeping tabs on me? Thought you would wait at least a day after the season ended.”
The caller laughed, “Unfortunately, the bad guys couldn’t wait to see you.”
You smiled, though any semblance of happiness did not reach it. You just happened to admire the voice giving you your itinerary for the next 24 hours. And you were happy that someone above the age of 17 was talking to you.
“What’s the job, Maria?”
“I’ve got some intel of activity over in Alaska.”
———————
You tightened the buckle across your chest, making your cold tactical gear nice and snug.
Ever since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., Maria Hill immediately began a search for agents who survived after the leak of every piece of information the organization had out onto the internet. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents weren’t the most beloved after the catastrophe over the Potomac, so many agents were hunted and killed, especially by organizations that were the direct adversaries to S.H.I.E.L.D.
So, Maria Hill searched through the rubble. Quietly. She found you hiding out around Montauk, New York; you had no idea how she did it, but you refused to question Agent Hill’s ways.
Ever since, she’s kept you on a highly classified list of agents who wanted work when the bad guys came out of their hidey holes to stir up trouble. You were glad to have the work; it reminded you often of what could have been, but it kept you without worry that you’d lose some of your “special agent” skills. Plus, you’d happily keep the not-so-super-bad guys occupied so the big guys, aka the Avengers, could deal with the bigger fish. Despite the desire to kick in bad guy skulls, you kept a deal that gave you a sense of normalcy during your time coaching, but once the season was over, you were game for pretty much anything she sent your way.
So, here you were, strapped up in a tiny plane, getting ready to drop into the deep woods of Alaska with nothing but a slim piece of intel on the situation and a slew of weapons strapped to every appendage you had.
You felt your Celestial bronze shield at your back, strapped in nice and tight. Your shield made you feel oddly like Captain America, but you never really figured out how to use it like a frisbee. Its diameter was large enough to span beyond your shoulders, making you also feel like a turtle. You loved using it on these missions; you missed the feel and weight of it as you left it behind when you were an agent carrying out Nick Fury’s..well, fury. It didn’t really fit with the brand despite the name. It made you feel like a kid again where you had the most experience with it in your hands in a fight.
The design was what drew you toward it in the first place. It held intricate grooves of geometric designs on the edges that orbited raised pleats which pointed toward the center. In the center was a detailed depiction of a screaming Empusa. Her eyes were wide in rage and her coarse hair haloed her head wildly. Talk about intimidation tactics.
You checked the Glock resting on your right thigh, and the few mags you had stored in secure pockets. Your gloved fingers traced over the Celestial bronze spear in its retracted form that was strapped to your other thigh; another one of your favorites that you had to leave behind when you were a legal agent that probably shouldn’t be throwing around a spear. You checked the rest of your weaponry, then strapped on your tactical helmet.
The mission Maria gave you was simple: get in, grab the package, get out. Even with Maria’s special skills of acquiring intel, she became limited as she lost all her contacts and sources. She had a general location of a building that was housing a weapon that these guys should absolutely not have. She also knew that it was something movable, as these guys had been seen entering the area only ten days ago without special vehicles for something large. Sabotage was not necessary, but you were prepared for it if her intel happened to be bad. It usually wasn’t, but you’ve learned to prepare for the worst without a huge operation to have your back. A lesson you have had to learn the hard way a couple times now.
“How long till drop?” You called into the headset, securing the straps of your parachute around your shoulders.
“2 minutes, and keep it stealth. I have no extraction for you until tomorrow morning at the nearest airstrip. Should be 13 miles north!” Maria called into the headset, maneuvering the plane over to the coordinates.
You took a breath, letting the tingles of nerves in the bottom of your stomach drift away. Despite the countless missions, battles, and fights you have been in, those feelings truly never go away. You felt the adrenaline begin to hit your blood, sending your mind reeling.
However, you weren’t the average agent.
You roped your mind back into your head, letting calmness wash over your brain. You closed your eyes, letting out a breath, and going over your strategies for tackling this mission. You always felt more in control when you ran everything in your mind over and over. If there was anything you held full trust in, it was your brain. And Maria Hill.
You opened your eyes feeling your anxiety turn into a thrumming current that made you eager. You hated to admit it to yourself, but sometimes you craved the fight. The clang of metal, the collision of fists and pure strength, and the smell of gunpowder. You craved the mental hoops the mission puts your brain through, and you were itching to encounter a challenge that would make you sweat. You probably won’t.
You snapped your eyes over to Maria; she gave you a quick glance and smile, throwing you a thumbs up.
“See you tomorrow” you called into the headset before you threw it off, threw open the side door of the plane, and somersaulted out into the sky.
Wind ripped at your hair and helmet and threw your arms and legs back as you plummeted down to the earth. You saw the target, seeing the dim lights around a sizable building that looked like some random storage shed in the middle of nowhere. Perfect hiding spot for a bunch of thugs that needed some ass kicking.
You released your chute just above the tall trees and maneuvered expertly down to land in a nearby pine that gave you the perfect vantage point to watch patrols and patterns of guards.
You watched quietly, learning the rotations of the guards, noting doors and windows. You saw two sizable garage doors, probably for a makeshift loading dock for getting supplies in and out. There was a side door on the side of the building facing you. You took your time, slowly slipping around the large clearing to get a read on any other breaches to the facility, only noting those three doors. As you memorized the guards’ patterns and put the entrances to memory, you adjusted your entrance plan accordingly. God, these guys just made it so easy.
You quietly made your way down to the forest floor, lurking in the shadows as you waited for your moment. You spotted a small ring of keys attached to the belt of a guard loitering around the edge of the clearing, who seemed to be boredly looking out into the trees. Seems like an easy tool to snag. You maneuvered towards him, grabbing a rock from the ground and chucking it deep into the brush that laid before the guard. Like an absolute noob, he trudged forward into the tree line to check out the noise. Without a buddy. Like a second person would have been too difficult for you to handle.
You stealthily came up behind him, drawing your spear from your side in its retracted form; it looked like a small dagger this way rather than a seven foot spear sticking straight out of the brush. You stuck it into his neck, holding his slumped body to set him down quietly as he died in a pool of his own blood. Cruel, but he was part of a minor terrorist group, so the world wouldn’t miss him. Pretty dire thinking, but you lost empathy as you aged and got real experiences with the equally as cruel world.
With the small ring of keys in hand, you expertly slip past the guards, into the side door you tabbed as you watched guard rotations. You had no idea what the inside would look like, but you could figure your tactics on the fly, even if bad guys swarmed you the moment you stepped in the door.
However, you were met with dead silence. The lights were off, and the only thing you heard was the quiet hum of the ventilation system. You peered into the darkness, starting to see shapes of tables, and stacks of boxes around you. As your eyes continued to adjust, you noticed something quite peculiar; there were no other rooms in the building. Everything was out in the open and the layout of the building was simply just the rectangle you saw as you plummeted to the earth.
As little intel as Maria had for you, there had to have been something here worth protecting.
You slipped around stacks of boxes, reading shipping labels, and searching through a few cabinets up on the walls, searching for any bits of information that could help you pierce through the veil to understand what you were searching for.
A sudden bang echoed through the building, sending you leaping over a stack of boxes to conceal yourself from the sudden yellow light that beamed through a newly opened doorway. What looked like a simple garage door, that you had not seen from the outside, had now opened to reveal a rickety looking caged elevator. A guard stepped out, dressed in the same gear as the men outside. Your mind was already ticking through possibilities of what was going on here, but there was one thing you knew for certain.
You had to get into that elevator.
The guard exited through the one side door, and you immediately sprung into action. You dashed toward the elevator as the door began to shut. You managed to slide through into the caged space as the door shut close. Your eyes scrutinized the space around you, seeing no elevator buttons, no other indicators as to where the elevator went or how deep you’d go. The elevator shifted and lurched as the cables creaked. The cage was old but not rusting or showing signs of long periods without use, so it must have been used often, if not all the time. The cage began to descend, sending you gods know where.
You grabbed the shield from your back, securing the straps around your left arm, retracting your spear to its full height. They didn’t know you were coming based on the limited number of guards outside, and based on most of the guards looking bored and unengaged with their tasks. They weren’t expecting anybody to pose a threat to whatever was going on here. Yet, you still wanted to be ready for somebody lurking right outside the door.
The elevator crunched and creaked as it stopped at what you assumed it’s only destination, looking similarly to the door up above. You hadn’t been descending for too long; you assumed you were about 5-7 levels deep.
The door shifted open, revealing a curved, concrete hallway, lit by abrasive LEDs on the ceilings. You slipped out, quietly following where the hall led, keeping your feet light to prevent echoing down the hall to whoever waited. As you followed the curve, you saw a barred window and door up ahead, with a guard clearly talking through his comms in front of it. He had his back to you, his hand resting on the door handle. Whatever was being relayed to him was important enough to stop him in his tracks.
You took the opportunity to slip closer, letting his response cover the sound of your movements.
Abruptly, he closed comms and turned around, meeting the not-so-nice end of your spear.
Maria didn’t give you any rules for the mission, leaving you the wiggle room of using your creative freedom to get the job done.
You stared into his eyes as they screwed in pain, watching the spear dig into his torso.
“Where’s the weapon?” you grunted, getting your point across of requiring an answer with a subtle twist of your spear.
The guard sputtered, blood splatting down the tactical vest covering his jacket.
“Th-the girl?” he questioned, honest confusion clouding his eyes as he shook and struggled.
You felt ice fill your veins as you ripped your spear out of his stomach and ended his life quickly with a powerful jab into his head.
This… This was not what you were expecting. Your mind connected pieces together as you forced your way through the door, finding a simple room with tables and office chairs, only empty coffee mugs and pens strewn across them.
This wasn’t a permanent spot; they were still hoping to keep the weapon- the girl. Moving. Something must have stalled them; ten days was far too long for them to be here which must have been the weakness in their logistics to ring alarm bells for whoever was passing Maria information. Yet, they were definitely not worried about it. Why weren’t they guarding this girl if they knew they were pushing their luck staying here for so long?
There must be something wrong with the girl. Infection, illness, injury, something.
You pushed through another door that opened into a small laboratory. Two steel tables were in the center, a drain under them as the floor subtly sloped toward the grate. There were cabinets and counters on the sides of the room and at the end, was a wall of glass that looked into what seemed to be a cell. Inside lay the girl the guard was probably talking about.
Your heart panged as you saw how little she was and how small she looked curled on her small mattress, clutching the one blanket she had up to her chin. She had deep purple bags under her eyes and her black hair was stringy and short, ending just at the ends of her ears. She had a light dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Gods, she was a cute kid. You didn’t see any wounds on her face, but what lay underneath the blanket could be a different story. Your face screwed and scrunched, feeling absolutely gutted at the poor kid trapped who knows how deep under the earth.
You walked up to the glass, unsure how to proceed. She had to have been the weapon, some sort of mutant or enhanced individual. The security was for her, that you were certain. You gently pressed around at the glass, looking for some sort of clue to open the case.
You lightly rapped your knuckles against the glass, wanting to wake her without scaring her. The girl stirred, her eyes slowly opening. She slipped out of her small bed, rubbing her eyes as she rose to her feet.
You took in her appearance, still not seeing wounds, noticeable injuries, or bruises. As her arms dropped to her side, you noticed soft bruising in the crook of her arm. They must be drawing blood or pumping her with fluids. She was short, about 4’7. She looked barely over 14.
Her eyes registered confusion as she looked at you, cautiously approaching the glass.
“Who are you?” she croaked, her voice crackled as she spoke. Her eyes drifted, looking at your shield and spear, and then to your gray eyes. You felt a sliver of relief, watching as she approached, seeing no fear or hesitation. She was comfortable at least to approach people here.
“I’m here to get you out.” you responded, watching her reaction. Her eyes widened in shock, her eyes suddenly darting around the room, seemingly thinking you were trying to trick her . Her eyes looked behind you, searching for something you knew wasn’t there.
“Are they hurting you?” you asked, continuing your search around the glass for hinges or any clues on how to get her out of there.
“The needles always hurt. But… something changed. The doctor gets less angry with me now.” She noticed what you were looking for and led you to the corner of the glass, she pointed to a switch on the wall. You flipped it, and heard a hiss. Whatever locks were on the glass released, half of the floor to ceiling pane drifting open into the glass cage. You took a step toward the door which sent the girl back. Her fear was written all over her face as she clutched her arms. Your mind was reeling with questions you couldn’t ask. You were feeling that dread fill your stomach; you guys had to get out of here, and fast. You were taking way too much time.
“I won’t hurt you, you have my word.” you spoke gently, dropping to a knee to look into her eyes again. She didn’t budge, her eyes boring into yours.
“How do I know you won’t take me somewhere worse than this?” She questioned, tears filling her eyes, her hands gripping her arms so tightly, her knuckles were turning white. You could see her legs trembling.
You shook your head, “You don’t, but I’m the best shot you have from getting away from these guys.”
Your honesty seemed to register to her, something she must have appreciated. Being faced with reality softened her stance, and you felt a pang of familiarity. You too would rather be faced with harsh reality than some sugar coated fallacy. Her face hardened and her hands dropped to her side. She took a breath and nodded. You tried to give her a comforting smile as you rose.
“Let’s get out of here, kiddo.”
She snapped into action, following you quickly as you left the small lab and wound back to the elevator. As you two ascended, you gave her a quick glance.
“Why’d this doctor take you?”
Her whole body shuddered, and her hand latched to yours. “She said I was special. She knew about all the weird things that were happening to me.”
Your head was setting off alarm bells. So she was some sort of mutant or enhanced.
“What weird things were happening?” You probed, feeling the elevator slow as it rose up to the surface.
“You’ll never believe me..”
“Try me kid.” You responded, giving her hand a supportive squeeze.
“Well, for starters, I think my substitute art teacher has wings and fangs. She kept sniffing my hair and said I smelt like lunch.”
Your whole body went cold. Oh gods no. She wasn’t a mutant at all. She was a demigod.
You stared at the small girl on your side as the elevator door opened to blinding lights and shouts. Your heart rate spiked, latching onto the girl next to you as you stared out into the facility, its lights burning your retinas.
“Hold your fire! She has the girl with her!”
Chapter 2: I Get Used as a Human Shotput
Notes:
I have two chapters done for the beginning of this fanfic- hope it leaves you wanting more!!
A song that inspired me while I wrote this was Bullet With Butterfly Wings by The Smashing Pumpkins
Also, I'm estimating this to be about 30 chapters! Enjoy and leave a comment with anything :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You grabbed the girl's wrist and threw her behind you as you took your stance with your shield and spear.
In front of you was a large group of guards, far larger than the group that had just been patrolling. They must have been transported in when you were down in the lab. Your eyes darted around the room, looking at all the men as you were all in a stand still, waiting for the other to formulate a response.
Men stared at you through their scopes, hands shifting as they waited for a command. The tension was electric; one move from either side could set everybody off. Through the quiet of the room, you heard soft thumps echo from the background, watching men shift around to make way for a woman in a lab coat that confidently walked into the space between you and the group of guards.
“I see we meet on unexpected terms.” her voice filled the void. Her voice was sharp, her consonants ringing into the ceiling of the wide open space. Her eyes flashed up to you behind her black-rimmed glasses, a look of power. Her hair was frizzy, her natural looking curls contained in a bun at the back of her neck. Her nails were perfectly manicured, and she had no jewelry on her person. She was dressed casually for some sort of evil doctor, wearing just a dark wash of jeans and a grey hoodie under her coat. Her feet were laced up in beat up combat boots. She looked comfortable standing there, her shoulders relaxed, arms folded across her chest, and her head held confidently as she bore her eyes into you. She somehow knew you, and still felt she had the advantage. Quite an interesting take.
“Guess we met on mine.” You spoke out, keeping yourself stanced, your voice even and stern. Your eyes kept analyzing her, watching her body language as she drank you in. Her eyes were looking you over, taking her time looking especially when she glanced at your shield and spear.
The doctor snickered, pacing to the side, her boots thumping as her lab coat whirled around her.
“I suppose we did, Agent. Well.. I should say, Ex-Agent.”
Your heart hammered, the adrenaline pumping your blood hard from the initial surprise of the ambush. You could feel your pulse in your ears as she smirked, expecting to see your steel facade fall. Was she trying to make you lash out? Get lost in some anger that long since dissipated after you lost your career that meant so much to you? You threw up thick concrete walls in your mind; your information was already out there. Anybody who wanted to know could find out you used to work at S.H.I.E.L.D. There was nothing special about this doctor since all she needed to find that information was a quick google search. Absolutely nothing was wrong-
“I know who you are. Rather, what you are. You’re just like our girl here, a demigod. A god among men with superhuman strength, agility, and smarts. Any demigod can be smart, but you. Your mind is a step above other demigods, daughter of Athena.” She spoke the last words with fire, her eyes flickering with interest as she stared, a smile creeping back onto her face.
Your stomach dropped, fighting to keep your face from telling her exactly how you felt which was a dark cloud of confusion followed with a dash of fear. From what you could tell, she seemed mortal. There were no details that you’ve noticed in this short interaction that have led you to believe otherwise. Despite her knowing your biggest secret ever. Nobody knew you were a demigod outside of that world. No mortals you were acquainted with or friends with know anything about that part of you. As it should be.
The doctor interrupted your spiral, “As fun as it was to finally meet you, I would like the girl back. You’ve been surrounded, and these aren’t the only surprises up my sleeve. I would suggest taking the easy way out.”
The doctor oozed confidence and comfortability. She didn’t look the least bit concerned as you felt doubt fill your belly. She was glancing at her nails, not even giving you a second glance as you weighed your options. As big as the claims she’s making are, you couldn’t afford to be distracted. Even if she truly knew who you were, you’d definitely have bigger fish to fry.
“If you really knew me, you’d know the easy way out is never an option.” You sneered, keeping your eyes glued to this doctor lady who planted herself right in front of you. Her demeanor didn’t change as she chuckled to your response. Her unbothered nonchalance was really starting to get on your nerves.
Her mouth smirked and opened to retort, but a distant roar of an engine sounded throughout the room, interrupting her and sparing you from whatever evil monologue she had stored away. As it grew in volume, guards' heads started to look around and guns slowly drifted down to their sides. The doctor scrunched her eyebrows in confusion, turning toward the large garage doors to the right of the group that now seemed to loom over everyone in the large shed. You reached behind you, latching onto the girl’s medical gown and yanked her forward, leaping into a charge. Using the distraction to cover your way out of no man’s land, you burst through the ranks of the guards, driving your shoulder into bodies to bulldoze your way through. Just as you collided with the guards, the two garage doors burst open, two heavily armored vehicles tearing through metal and squealing into the facility, hitting men and scattering crates and equipment.
Your eyes were wild, darting back and forth as you dragged the girl behind you to make your escape. You tried calculating as fast as you can, assessing what group of maniacs just busted into your fight, guns blazing. No logos, no anything were on the vehicles. You moved so fast that you weren’t even able to see the men that jumped out of the vehicles. You couldn’t wait; this wasn’t your problem. You just hopped the doctor wasn’t on your tail.
You needed to get this girl somewhere safe, now.
You weaved in and out of stacks of boxes, hoping to keep out of sight from basically everyone in this place. You couldn’t trust that the new arrivals were “the good guys”. The door you had entered was blocked by toppled crates, far too much for you to move without being noticed and with so little time. Out the new front doors then. The girl kept up with you well, her urgency matching yours as her breath ran raged. You heard her huffing and puffing behind you, her eye bags looking even darker than before. You didn’t know what was wrong with her, and you had to prepare for carrying her whenever she ended up collapsing, which looked like it could happen at any second.
You grabbed her hand, leading her toward the destroyed garage doors, leaping through the giant holes left from the massive vehicles. You both ran out into the chill of the night, your eyes having to adjust to the dark woods surrounding the building and clearing. You oriented yourself toward the direction of extraction, feeling some sort of relief settle into your stomach. All you had to do was get to the airstrip. You repeated that to yourself over and over, as you urged the girl forward.
A deafening roar shook the ground, causing both you and the girl to stumble to the ground. You felt fear grip your throat; you recognized the sound and immediately started cursing in your head. Well, now was as good a time as any to get this girl familiar with who she really was.
You dragged her out of the clearing into the brush. Your hands gripped her shoulders, her tired eyes immediately snapping to yours as her chest heaved and her body fell limp against the tree. Her head fell back against the trunk, her breath shaky.
“I need you to listen to me carefully.” You spoke, keeping it firm, but kind. She was going to have a lot of questions, and you wanted her to feel safe with you as you were about to drop some major bombs.
“Those crazy things that keep happening to you are real. That teacher? She’s real and is trying to hurt you. She’s a monster called a harpy, and only special people like me and you can see those monsters. Do you have a hard time reading? Do the letters get all mixed up in your brain?” You sighed as she nodded, giving her a warm smile.
“Hate to break it to you kiddo, but you’re not crazy. You’re a demigod.” You couldn’t help but smile as you watched her face contort into confusion. You had your fair share of meeting young, new demigods and escorting them to camp. A reaction like this was usually the best you’ve come across. Nobody seemed to enjoy learning about being a demigod which honestly, you couldn’t argue with how they felt. It wasn’t a walk in the park.
You heard the roar again, the thundering footsteps getting louder. You pressed the small button on the thin chain and pendant you wore around your neck; you only used it in case of dire emergencies. You think you could consider this one of those emergencies.
You both were peering out into the darkness; you could feel the poor girl shaking under your hands. “Alright, sweetheart, you’ve gotta stay here. Don’t move, and one of my friends will come and find you. okay?”
She grabbed onto your wrist as you stood up and turned to go. “Where are you going?” Her eyes were full of fear, and her grip, despite her worsening appearance and the sweat now dripping off her forehead, was tight.
You gently placed your hand on her head and gave her a reassuring smile, running your thumb across her forehead gently.
“One of those monsters, kind of like your teacher, is trying to get us. Demigods have a specific smell that these monsters can follow, so it’s coming for a snack. I’m going to make sure we don’t turn into a side of demigod to this guy.”
You wanted to stay and comfort her, but you couldn’t take the chance of the monster finding her. She wouldn’t stand a chance in her state.
You took off, running out into the clearing, watching the woods before you as a dark shape emerged from the woods behind the facility. It towered over the roof, stepping into the yellow lights from the building. It’s two heads, one lion, one goat, reared, releasing that familiar, deep roar. The Chimera was a formidable thing, but not a monster you were unfamiliar with. It’s snake tail snapped and whipped through the air, an intense hissing coming from the snake’s mouth. Its massive claws dug into the soil as it sized you up, steam puffing from its two sets of nostrils.
The doctor had said she had tricks up her sleeve. Was this one of them? You narrowed your eyes at the creature, looking straight into its glowing orange eyes. It had to be one of her tricks; it wasn’t normal for a whole Chimera to be following the lone trail of a small demigod. It was usually the pathetic small monsters that liked preying on really young demigods who had no idea what to do and were easy targets.
“Alright pal, let’s dance.” You charged, your spear tight in your grip with your shield strapped tightly on your arm. You sprinted at the monster, watching it rear on its hind legs, its four sets of eyes raging. You saw that familiar glow deep in its throat as the lion’s mouth hung open in another roar. All you thought as you ran was how much you did not want your hair to get singed tonight.
As you approached the beast, you slid under its legs, jabbing your spear up into the belly hearing the coat rip against the celestial bronze. Your momentum stopped at its hind legs; you swiftly maneuvered to your feet, sprinting out from underneath the Chimera.
Too bad it was ready for you. The snake tail whipped toward you and the tongue of the snake latched to your ankle, yanking you out and up into the air. You twisted in the air, narrowly avoiding one of the snake fangs from piercing your skin. You grunted, using the edge of your shield to try and bash the snake’s eye as you whipped around its face. Once the edge of your shield slammed into the delicate flesh, the snake released you, sending you plummeting to the ground. The Chimera got a lot quicker, having learned its lesson when it last fought you when you were only 17. It reared, aiming the flaming breath up at you; you could feel the heat from where you were falling through the air. You curled your legs up underneath you, using your shield to take the brunt of the flames that were erupting from the lion’s throat.
The flames hit your shield, and the force sent you soaring. Gods, this was going to hurt. You aimed your shield toward the ground, having it absorb some of the hit, but your head knocked against the edge, searing pain reverberating throughout your skull. You moaned in pain as you tumbled across the ground, slumping as you finally came to a stop. You couldn’t let the beast get the girl, so with all the might and will of a seasoned demigod, you pushed yourself onto your feet, stumbling into a run back at the monster.
It was stalking toward the woods that held the girl, the Chimera’s impeccable sense of smell leading it right to her. In a desperate attempt, you smacked your shield with your spear, grabbing the beast’s attention with the abrasive clanging.
“C’mon, big guy! Your dinner is right here!” You screamed, picking up the pace to meet it in the middle as the creature used its powerful paws to spring itself back toward you. The goat head lowered, the massive horns pointed at you for the charge. You kept at a full sprint with no hesitation, meeting the goat’s head until you leapt up onto its neck before it could catch your movement. You slashed the goat’s neck with your spear, reaching up to stab it in the eyes.
The goat’s rattling bleat was filled with pain; the Chimera stood on its hind legs, the strong and sharply clawed paws blindly reaching for you. You clung to the lion’s mane, clenching your teeth as you were flung wildly about. Using all your strength, you heaved yourself up and launched yourself toward the top of the lion’s head. With all your might, you brute forced your spear into the skull and into its brain. With a loud cry, the Chimera began to disintegrate, its body stumbling toward the ground, shaking the earth and trees as it slowly was sent back to Tarturus. Before it was fully gone, the snake tail had taken its last act of vengeance, once again latching itself to your ankle, flinging you out across the clearing. Your limbs were whirling around you, the surprise of the last attack keeping you from controlling yourself at first. You took control of your body, curling up in hopes you could use your shield as a basic sled again, hoping it would save you from most of the pain.
Apparently that was too much to ask for.
You hit the ground, chunks of dirt exploding around you as you slid and slid, you and your shield leaving behind a huge trench in the earth, your path stretching for most of the clearing. You groaned a few minutes after you had come to a stop, rolling onto your back and into the grass to stare up at the stars. Your eyes fluttered shut; the fight had taken almost all of the energy out of you, and it felt like an eternity until you were slowly feeling air fill your lungs. Your chest was heaving as you twitched all your fingers and toes; at least you still had all your appendages. As of right now, you truly regretted missing the escapades of your childhood and teenage years after this fight. The fights could be fun, but jesus, these ones were torture. Especially, now that you have joint pain and knee problems to worry about.
As you slowly felt oxygen return to your bloodstream, your mind flickered with intrigue as you heard muffled voices directly over you. You listened intently, starting to pick up words and phrases as the ringing in your ears slowly dissipated.
“What do we do with the girl, sir?”
A strong, commanding voice broke through your exhaustion, the sudden need to jump up and face these people overwhelming as you tried to get your limbs to respond despite the ache.
“Get a pair of cuffs. We need to figure out who she works for, and I don’t want to take any chances.”
Your eyes ripped open, anger flooding your senses. With your head facing the sky, you only got a glimpse of the speaker, spotting a deep navy blue suit step out of your line of sight. You huffed and scrambled to your feet, snatching your spear from the ground and ripping your shield out of the ground. You heard the shuffle of people scrambling to respond to your sudden awareness, safeties of guns clicking and people shuffling to get a view of you.
You could only imagine what you looked like; some crazy lady wielding ancient looking weaponry, ponytail ratted and wild, your entire suit was scuffed with some singed edges on your boots and cuffs of your pants. You could feel blood dripping down your face from splitting your head open on your shield, and you could feel the dirt caking your fingers and in the nooks of your gear. Your eyes slowly scraped over the individuals in front of you, looking at their unsure eyes, darting between their superior and you.
Your gaze shifted to the center, and your blood ran cold. Of all the people you were expecting to crash your punch-bad-guys party, it was definitely not Captain America. Tonight was just full of surprises.
There he stood, his flesh, blood, and bones before you in his ever commanding presence. You’ve never seen him in person, even being a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. for a couple years and being in the fight over the Potomac. He was bigger than you expected. A lot bigger. His posture was perfect, making him look stoic and strong. His shoulders were unfathomably wide, narrowing down in to his waist. He was sporting a full beard, forgoing his typical helmet that he seemed to wear in most fights he was in that showed up in the news. The star that should be in the center of his chest was missing, and you saw no star spangled shield in his hands. His blue eyes showed nothing but calm despite your frantic attempt to gain back control of the situation.
“Captain.” you muttered, looking around at all the men. The captain didn’t seem shocked or surprised by your sudden rise from the ground or for your recognition of him. His eyes were analyzing you just as yours were to him. If he recognized you from S.H.I.E.L.D., he did not show it.
“I won’t let you take the girl.” You said, your voice broke, forcing a fit of coughs up your throat. Not quite what you were wanting for first impressions. The captain’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.
“What girl?” he responded, keeping his tone even and firm as he stared at you. His men remained still, waiting for whatever he commanded.
You felt your brain itch. Had they not seen her out in the woods or when she was running out of the building with you? Had she gotten snatched in the chaos of the fight? You hoped your “unauthorized” backup had come in time. But, if they didn’t know about the girl, who did they want cuffs for?
All of a sudden it clicked in your brain. Oh shit.
The cuffs were for you.
Notes:
He's finally here :D
Chapter 3: Captain America Kind Of Kidnaps Me
Notes:
hi dearies
thank you for the love <3 I hope to keep giving you good content! I'll do my best to keep editing mistakes as I find them. I have a tendency to obsessively reread everything I write and get deeply embarrassed when I find typos. I'll also keep adding tags as the story develops!
I didn't have any song inspiration this time around- just raw dogged this one
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sudden turbulence made you snap your head back, smacking it against the wall behind you.
You grumbled, wanting to have your arms out from behind your back to cover your eyes as your head pounded with a migraine. You were worried you had a concussion, but the team of armed men that took you into the plane hadn’t thought about bringing their team medic inside with them. Despite the blood very obviously dripping down your face and splattering onto your gear which had now completely dried under your skin, making you feel extra crusty and grimy. You wish you had brought at least a small square of ambrosia, even though they probably would have taken it off your person with the rest of the items they took.
You leaned your head gently back against the cool metal of your “confinement space” as Captain America had so gently put it. He explained the situation to you as he had his team place you in cuffs back on the ground; they needed to get back to wherever was home turf for him and his crew, and interrogating you would wait until they got their team back and situated. Until then, redundant safety measures would be taken to prevent you from going on a killing spree or conducting a master escape plan.
Not exactly what the captain had said, but you took the liberty to fill in the blanks he left. You were sitting on the floor of a fancy pancy cell without the iron bars keeping you in, just some extra reinforced bulletproof glass. The cuffs were snug against your wrist, the metal heavy. You had to be put into the cuffs they used for “enhanced” people since you snapped the connecting chain on the first pair they had put on you. You meant to be compliant, but one of the masked men had manhandled you too rough for your liking, so you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. You normally controlled your abilities when in the presence of people who weren’t half bloods, but you released some of that iron that kept you in your place. The chain connecting the cuffs snapped easily as you ripped your arms from behind your back to land a pulled punch to the guys’ nose. Despite the super magnetized cuffs holding your wrists together, you didn’t regret a thing as the satisfaction of hearing that man’s nose crack was well worth it.
Even after the scuffle, your uncertainty earlier at the evil doctor facility had faded once you saw Steve Rogers, knowing at least you weren’t technically getting detained by people you weren’t familiar with. As of right now, Captain America was technically not an Avenger and was an apparent fugitive. For what, you didn’t really know. You didn’t necessarily keep up with that kind of stuff; something about government control and accords. Whatever it was, even with him technically not being affiliated with any sort of agency, you wondered who had dispatched him, how he had all these resources, and more. I mean, he’s Captain America, but even he had to have his limits, right? Either way, you didn’t feel like you were in bad hands. Just ones that had no idea who you were and what you were doing in Alaska.
You allowed the thought to give you some semblance of peace so you could try to drift asleep while on the plane. The fatigue was catching up to you, and your limbs felt like lead. It was a peaceful ride, the rumbles and hums of the jet acting like white noise to give your mind the space to rest despite the hammering in your head. You wondered what time it was, if Maria was waiting for you back at that airstrip. You felt safe assuming she had Captain America’s number to ask for her agent back.
The plane shifted, slowly beginning its descent. You kept your eyes closed and let your head hang in front of your chest, your ears popping from the change in air pressure. After the jet had landed, you heard the team moving around the space, crates scraping and packs getting situated on backs. Nobody spared you a glance as they walked by, all of them seeming preoccupied with disembarking the aircraft.
Once the aircraft emptied, you heard a small commotion outside. Voices were raised; an angry superior reprimanding one of the squad members perhaps. Maybe they were getting yelled at for letting you punch them in the face. The thought made you half-heartedly smile. You heard a heavy pair of boots step into the cabin, confidently making their way toward your containment box. You gently lifted your head, trying to avoid agitating your skull splitting headache. Your eyes met Steve Rogers, who was punching in a code to open the door to your cell. His eyes looked frustrated, his brows slightly pinched together. Those bright blue eyes flickered up to you as he entered; you watched the frustration melt away and his expression soften as he looked you over, his mouth pressed together as he saw the dried blood across your face. Of all people to raise their voices, you weren’t expecting it to be Captain Rogers. He didn’t seem the type, even when upset with the men he was leading. His voice cut through your thoughts.
“The medic was supposed to tend to you on the ride over; I apologize for not seeing that through. We’ll get you taken care of right away.” He was gentle, his apology feeling genuine despite you literally being cuffed and literally detained. He had no business being worried about your physical state with having no idea who you were, but this was the type of behavior that made him Captain America. His compassion went beyond what was expected, and you couldn’t help yourself but to relish in it. You watched as he entered, that rigidness still in his shoulders as he approached you.
“Thank you, Captain.” your voice croaked, giving him a fleeting smile. You shifted under his gaze, his eyes looking at the dried blood on your face. It was in your eyelashes and in bits of your hair. You felt almost shameful in this state in front of his eyes, but in them you only saw frustration, and you knew it was not aimed at yourself.
“Can you stand?” Rogers asked, coming to your side, fully prepared to lift you and bear your weight if you couldn’t. You muttered an acknowledgement, slowly getting to your feet despite the pain in your head and stiffness in your legs. His arms were outstretched, hovering around you just in case you stumbled as you got to your feet. You couldn’t bear the thought of him having to help you out; it made your skin tingle thinking about Captain America letting your arm drape across his broad shoulders to help you walk.
He kept the offer open, keeping close to your side as you hobbled out of the back of the jet and onto the tarmac. You took a glance around, thanking Zeus for the cloud cover, so the sun didn’t burn your retinas and melt whatever part of your brain was not concussed. You took a good look around, seeing the small airstrip you were on with only a handful of hangers. You were nowhere near a normal civilian airport, the only views around being what seemed to be some distant mountains, and empty grass fields that went as far as the coast. The grass was not lush, but not a dead brown either. The coast had to be nearby; you could smell the salt of the sea from here, even without seeing it. Due to the chill, you expected you were somewhere north, and based on the timing of the flight, somewhere in Northern Europe. The jack hammer in your head made you doubt your logic.
“Where are we?” you asked, your eyes still squinting despite the covered sun. You glanced into some open hangars as you walked by, still not seeing a clue as to who the men under Cap’s command were.
“We are in a rural part of Iceland, an older gentleman owns this airstrip for some locals who keep small planes for uh, Puffin Tours.” Captain Rogers responded thoughtfully, gently guiding you to a small, open hanger. His response to your apparent confusion didn’t really answer anything; it left you with more questions than before. You noticed a flicker of a smile when he mentioned the puffins. Cute.
You saw people bustling about, running details over and over again in your brain. You were getting twisted around in the details, unable to keep your head straight through the pain that was becoming more annoying than anything. Captain Rogers took you to the back corner of one of the hangars where a man was sorting through some medical items in a stuffed duffel. Captain Rogers set you down on a chair, his hands gentle as they held your arm to lower you into your seat. You felt as if your arm was on fire, not mentally prepared for Rogers’ touch. You saw the gentleness slip away from his face, the steel returning to his eyes. He seemed to have quite the personality switch when it came down to business.
“Daniel, she was the one I wanted you to look over. She has a laceration on her forehead, and possibly a concussion. Please check her for any other injuries, so she’s comfortable for our next departure.” Captain Rogers glanced back at you after giving Daniel his orders. He gently placed his hand on your shoulder, making eye contact with you as he spoke.
“If you need anything, Daniel will be here to help you. We will be leaving in 20 minutes.”
“Where are we headed to, Captain?” you quickly sputtered out, looking at him with pleading eyes to give you something. You caught him just before he left; you could tell he had tried to make a quick exit, but you were just a smidge faster.
He gave you a stoic look, his eyes giving away a semblance of warmth. He had a job to do, and he had to keep his men safe from you until he learned about your motives and intentions. You knew he would likely give you nothing useful in response, but there was no harm in asking him. Rogers was safe, you knew that for sure.
“Let’s talk about it once we’re in the air.”
—--------
Daniel had put you into a far bigger, far nicer jet after his evaluations and diagnosis. You did sustain a mild concussion and some major bruising along your arm that your shield was strapped to, but otherwise, the medic did not seem concerned. You were just glad you didn’t break anything. You still wished for a small square of ambrosia for convenience, more annoyed having to be gentle with yourself for a few days so you healed well.
You had been put into a bigger containment space, getting the luxury of a small bed that you gratefully sat on. As you were getting checked out earlier, you let your mind wander on how the rest of the day was going to play out. They were going to find out you were an ex S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, if they don’t know already. There had to be a bigger play here; there was a reason why you were being moved elsewhere in a jet versus them finding some local hole to get information. They felt comfortable and safe enough at that airstrip to regroup and scatter, but were quick to leave. Was there a bigger facility the Captain was using? Somewhere private? Maybe the captain didn’t want these guys knowing exactly where you were going. Perhaps his trust with these guys only went so far.
Your thoughts were interrupted as the jet rumbled. You let the movements of the jet maneuvering to the airstrip and getting ready for take off rock you, wishing for sleep as your eyes flutter closed. Once the jet was in the air, you tried to situate yourself comfortably with the cuffs still on your wrists, but your eyes locked onto the Natasha Romanov watching you through the glass door to your cell. Her cool eyes were locked onto yours, a small smirk playing on her lips.
“Nice to see you, agent.”
You expected as much.
You gave her a nod in acknowledgement, trying to focus through the sleep deprived haze in your eyes, thanking the gods that Daniel gave you some meds for your dazzling headache. It was just a dull ache now, but you were still yearning to tip back another 40 ounces of water and maybe a Vicodin. Or a horse tranquilizer. Whatever would put you to sleep in the next 5 minutes.
She took your acknowledgement as permission to enter, quickly punching in the code, the door buzzing and slowly swinging open. She pulled in a small chair behind her, placing it right in front of you, letting the door swing close behind her. You weren’t necessarily comfortable in her presence; again, Fury left his big guns like the Captain and Romanov to much bigger missions that little fish like you didn’t really touch. The idea of Agent Romanov was legendary, and seeing her in the flesh made you feel like a teen again, watching the coverage of the invasion. Her fighting had seemed something straight out of an epic.
“Gotta few seconds to chat?” She asked coolly, plopping herself into the chair in front of you, her low voice slipping through your thoughts. The question was just for show, classic spy tactic to make you feel in control. You would be expected to comply, not that you really had any wish not to. You didn’t have anything to fight here; you were with the good guys. You were just wondering how to twist the truth away from the giant Chimera you fought, unsure how The Mist cloaked that whole scenario. And the whole situation around the girl which you knew they definitely did not forget about thanks to you bringing it up.
“I’m sure you already know half the story, Agent Ro- Do I still call you agent? What should I-”
Natasha gave you a small smile, her eyes lighting up with a bit of amusement at your gesture of respect.
“Natasha is just fine. Maria Hill put in a good word for you. That’s a pretty big name to have backing you up.” She folded her arms across her chest, a pair of gloves covering her hands and her body covered in her thermal layers that were under her cold tactical gear from earlier. Her eyes were glued to yours, every once in a while drifting towards your eyebrows that twitched, and your shoulders that slightly tensed.
You could feel your hands behind your back start to perspire. You were damn good in a fight, but gods, you could not lie for shit. You were already twitching just thinking about having to conjure up some story to the greatest agent in the world.
“She found me after the fall. Said bad guys still needed to be put six feet under with or without S.H.I.E.L.D. around to do it.” You responded, feeling your mind swim thinking of all the ways to cover the parts of the story you knew she’d start asking about.
“So she gave you some intel on that place in Alaska, and you answered the call.” Natasha responded. You gave her a confirming nod, shifting a little. Natasha watched your face contort, the strain on your wrists beginning to ache.
“The cuffs were just a precaution; Steve doesn’t like to take too many risks recently.” Natasha rose out of her chair, pulling out a tiny magnet attached to a chain on her wrist.
“May I?” she asked gently, waiting for your nod. Her hand rested on your shoulder as you leaned forward, giving her access to the cuffs binding your hands. Her magnet seemed to release mechanisms inside the cuffs. You heard a hiss and the cuffs slowly released. Natasha grabbed them, returning to her seat with a smile.
“We have a while before we get to Wakanda. I want to hear more about the Nazis you punched back in ‘16.” Natasha’s eyes gleamed and painted her face with a wicked grin.
“Wakanda?” Your eyes widened, almost bugging out of your face. Natasha waved you off.
“We’ll get to that later. Tell me the good stuff, Agent.”
________________________
You had never seen a place as beautiful as the expansive and bright cityscape of Wakanda. You could barely contain your wonder as you stared out the window, your breath slightly fogging the glass. It was different from New York City at night. New York was all blazing lights, blaring sirens , and concrete jungles. Wakanda’s lights twinkled like stars in the dark sky; you swore you could see a gentle glowing aura around the city. Twinges of blue surrounding the skyscrapers that jutted into the sky, but somehow looked as if they were meant to be there as they melded into the beauty around them. The startling difference was… well everything. The tech here was wildly different from what you were used to. Even walking through doorways was different as doors melted away and reclosed behind you as if they never opened in the first place.
When you had arrived, you were guided by Natasha all the way to what looked like a private residence, where a lovely woman had brought you a change of clothes. Now you were dressed in a sleek black tunic, taking in the sights from a window in one of the many skyscrapers in Wakanda.
You thought back to the long talk you and Natasha had back in the aircraft. It had been friendly, a trade of stories back and forth. Your admiration for her had only grown, and you realized you let your guard down multiple times simply due to your awe for her work and skill. You had told her about your work post-S.H.I.E.L.D., getting a degree or two like your father always wanted, the girls you coached, how you filled your life with purpose. Okay, maybe you told her a lot more than you originally wanted to, but it was nice to feel like there was someone who understood all this nonsense. You could not release all this tension in your mind to your assistant coach who you occasionally went out for drinks with. No, Natasha Romanov looked at you like she was proud of you, and that seemed to be the one thing you wanted for the 7 or so hour flight.
You heard the soft ping from the elevator, soft footsteps leading out of it and down the hall to where you were swirling in your own hurricane of thoughts. You turned, seeing Captain Rogers appearing in the doorway, still wearing his mission suit. He filled the space of the doorway, his hands resting on the suit belt. He held a small smile on his lips which wasn’t something you were used to. Everyone knew that Captain Rogers was a stand up guy, but you were used to seeing the posters of him looking patriotic and made of steel. The picture they passed around on every corner of the internet when he became a fugitive made him seem intimidating, almost downright scary. Seeing Captain America smile was rare, but it was a good look on him. Even with the beard faze he seemed to be going through.
“I wanted to apologize earlier. I didn’t realize I had one of Nick Fury’s best locked in a cell.” Rogers spoke, his voice light and calm. The smile that tugged on his lips displayed slight amusement, his eyes were twinkling as he gently teased, but you knew he was genuine with his apology. You could feel it in his voice, his posture, even in the gentleness of his hands. Back in Alaska, his face was hardened, and his eyes were no longer a gateway to his feelings but an iron vault where nothing could be revealed. There was nothing you could read from him but pure relentlessness.
Now, he looked almost soft. His shoulders weren’t slumped, but relaxed. His jaw was slack, and the smile on his lips seemed to come easy. The man in front of you was very different from the man that placed you in cuffs, but you didn’t seem to mind as you felt your stiffness drain out of you. The past however many hours or days you’d diverted from normal life had been draining on you, but you didn’t feel so empty as he approached. You drifted toward a plush chair in the center of the room, letting it cradle your weight as you sat.
“No need to apologize, Captain. I understand that my presence in Alaska wasn’t exactly expected. I can’t blame you for taking extra precaution, and being Nick Fury’s best is a stretch. Just one of the good ones, I suppose.” You responded, easily resting your eyes on the way he folded his arms across his chest, appreciating the stretch of his suit around his biceps.
Captain Rogers stepped toward the room, leaning against the arm of a couch directly across from your armchair. His breath was easy, but there was something else. Even with how calmly he was presenting himself, there was something off in his demeanor. A touch of something you couldn’t quite place.
“We would have brought you back to New York after we found out you were S.H.I.E.L.D., but we have a proposition for you.” Rogers paused, looking to be running his words over in his head. He took a moment, lifting his head back up to you.
“We could use your help with this doctor we’re chasing. It’s a bigger story than the small snippet you saw back at that facility. Natasha found her file a while back, looked into it, and found something far more dangerous than a basic evil scientist’s normal repertoire. Something S.H.I.E.L.D. overlooked since her file wasn’t exactly in their priority group.” Rogers spoke as the weight of the world slowly fell on his shoulders. You knew there was a lot more on his mind than just some evil doctor who seemingly kept sleep deprived half bloods. You saw the news a year ago about the big fight in some European airport between Cap and Ironman. You didn’t know everything that went down, but when they announced the Captain a fugitive again, you had an idea things ended far worse than what was advertised which left many vulnerabilities. Many you were sure the Captain was struggling to handle without as much support as he once had.
“Is this a job offer, Captain?” you responded, feeling excitement simmer in your stomach. You loved coaching your girls, you really did, but you felt useful doing missions like these. Changing the world in a way you knew most people could not with the help of the demigod blood running through your veins. You were by no means a Black Widow when it comes to fighting, but you had been “training” throughout your childhood thanks to every monster from Tartarus thinking they could get a piece of you and every other half blood you were protecting. You had a special skill set that people like Captain America and Black Widow could capitalize on, even without knowing the full extent of that skill set.
Captain Rogers gave you another small smile, those lovely blue eyes sparkling as they glanced over to you. “I suppose it is. If you’d have us.” He rose from his spot, and you stood to meet him. He held his hand out for a shake which you gratefully took, gripping his large hand tightly. His smile shifted as you shook.
“I have one last question for you before we get started.” his voice had changed. He was no longer soft, gentle Steve Rogers. He had morphed back into the Captain, everything turning hard as stone. His hand had let go of yours, returning back to his side as his stare turned cold and analyzing.
“Captain?” you felt the spark of anger in your neurons, feeling like you already got played before the game even started. Your perception of him as Captain America clouded your judgment; you didn’t see the shakedown in front of you staring at your face. Captain Rogers was a known bad liar, but this wasn’t a lie. He must have believed he was doing the right thing with whatever plan was brewing behind those gorgeous blue eyes. He was switching up his act to get answers he wanted from you.
His jaw twitched at your response, the small piece of betrayal in the way you said his rank seemingly went over his head. He was all rigid as he stared at you.
“How long has Nick Fury known you’re a mutant?” he questioned, his words calculated as his eyes raked over your body, waiting for a tell, a twitch in your brow, a tensing of your fingers.
His eyes seemed to blaze with anger you didn’t know he was capable of when you couldn’t help but laugh in his face.
Notes:
comment with any thoughts, concerns, random facts anything! I love anybody and everybody here who just takes a glance at what I write <3
Chapter 4: I Lie to the Face of A Deadly Assassin (Kind of)
Notes:
hi everybody :)
when I saw slow burn yall I mean it- I'll do my best to give you scrumptious crumbs as this thing builds.
I had a wild week, so forgive me if I missed typos. I wasn't very thorough in my editing. Happy reading <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You really tried to control yourself; you really gave it your best effort. But getting accused of being one of Fury’s mutants like a flying monkey at his own disposal was probably one of the most hilariously heinous things you had ever had thrown at your face.
“Captain, please. I’m one of the last people Fury would want running errands for him” you breathed out, the laughter dying out of your stomach as the shock of his accusation rolled off your shoulders. Once you fully recovered, you really took in Rogers’ face. He continued to stare that cold and calculating look, the warmth from his eyes gone. He must really believe he’s got you cornered, which he did, but not in the way he thinks.
“Even if you aren’t in Fury’s pocket, there’s the big question about your abilities. Daniels told me you had to badger him to give you five extra doses of Tylenol which could cause major problems for the average man, but you seem to be doing just fine. I saw you break those cuffs like they were nothing. Don’t get me started on how you survived that blast-” Captain Rogers continued to roll off instances that didn’t make sense, inconsistencies in your files and mission reports. You would often disappear, ignoring communications with teams, and magically appear after a period of time, looking fresh out of a fight without anyone else on the team being engaged in combat.
You couldn’t really explain those. Sometimes monsters decided to join in the chaos of casual missions. Maybe they were drawn to the bad guys, and thought maybe creating a little more havoc would cause you to fall from the pressure right onto their dinner plate. You didn’t understand their tracking of “adult” half bloods, but they didn’t seem to give you some time to rest, even when on the job. You hoped leading the Captain away from addressing those mission reports would be enough for him to forget. Highly unlikely.
Captain Roger’s also said something about you surviving a blast. Not that you haven’t ever survived some form of explosion, but you haven't recently. You assumed that’s what The Mist had used to cover up for the whole Chimera situation. Not too bad of a cover up, but not good enough to fool someone like the Captain. The Mist fooled the average person, making the person who might have seen something believe whatever it manipulated the situation to look like. Based on everything the captain has seen, he must have some sort of mental strength to not be completely deceived by The Mist. You didn’t think for one second that a blast launched you as far as that trench was, and you knew he had seen the path you and your shield made in the dirt.
“Not saying I am a mutant, Captain, but it seems awfully judgmental for someone like you to be pointing fingers at an enhanced. Does my lack of experience in laboratory induced human experimentation and torture bother you?” You bit back, letting your defensiveness drive him away from getting answers out of you. You’d rather beat him back with a stick than having him probe you for details you knew you couldn’t give him.
Your comment must have hit some kind of nerve. He seemed to clench his jaw so hard that you expected to hear the cracking of teeth. That anger was back in his eyes, but he didn’t move a muscle to act on it. There was a tug of war going on in that head of his; he couldn’t decide what to do next to make you talk. The man he was and the soldier he became were the scales, and you were waiting to see which way they tipped toward. His eyebrows furrowed, giving you a clue as to how he decided to proceed.
“Fury gets drawn to enhanced people. He has a bad habit of making them into the tools and weapons he wants, whether he’s aware of this or not. It’s just what he does to people like us. Whatever it takes for what he thinks the world needs,” Rogers responded, his tone even and firm. A part of you felt the need to defend the ex-director, but you knew that would play right into the hand Rogers had already set for you. It didn’t stop you from feeling angry, judged, and set up for failure.
“I’m not still doing what I am because of Fury. I chose to follow this path after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell; it was Maria that found me and gave me the opportunity to continue to make change in my own way.” You hissed back, feeling angry not at what Roger’s was accusing you of, but because you simply had to defend yourself against him. You figured he’d understand why you ran back to something similar to the life you had. All you and him have known is war, blood, and death.
“Maria may be different from Fury, but if she found you, that means Fury did too. He’s been watching you ever since you started doing off the book missions a year ago. I find it very interesting that an ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with the specialized background we are looking for just so happened to stumble into our laps. That smells like Fury’s involvement to me.” Rogers took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours as he spoke. The intensity of his gaze made you feel small; you didn’t know what words to say that would convince him that Fury wasn’t directly contacting you. You hadn’t been paying attention to the relation between Maria and Fury; you blindly jumped into whatever Maria gave you, desperate for any sort of validation and purpose. You supposed that’s what they were hoping for if they really were singling you out for the greater purpose of keeping tabs on Captain America.
“I don’t hate the man, but I’m done letting him control what I do. What we do. We run things the way they should be, the way S.H.I.E.L.D. should have been run.” Rogers continued, his voice sounding less severe than earlier. He was losing his momentum with this argument, but the man sounded tired.
Captain Rogers was a passionate man, one that represented a lot of things, like integrity, a man with honor and a man who kept his word. Things that Fury has openly claimed he doesn’t represent. People forget the Captain was not a simple symbol for the stars and stripes. Maybe at first, when his symbol was first created back in the ‘40s, but he was no longer the call to blind patriotism. He was a man that held up far more important things, and he was not willing to give those up for any man, agency, or government accords.
“And how should things be run, Captain?” You spoke back, keeping that intense eye contact with him. He was waiting for you to ask, and he seemed very obliged to answer.
“With trust. If I don’t trust you, you can’t be in on this operation. I’m not putting blind faith into anyone anymore, not after all the hard lessons I learned that killed too many good people.” You could see the faintest tremble in his chin as he spoke those words. They were words that were hardened after years of seeing himself as the man soaked in the blood of the good people who believed in him. You felt a pang in your chest as you felt your own emotions swirl around the thought. The blood you felt on your hands was never dry; you could still feel it dripping as you tried to wipe it away with good deeds and unsanctioned stealth ops. You blinked, feigning blankness as you tried to fight away the pain you felt.
“Can I trust you, Agent?” Captain Rogers responded softly, the hardness of his face slowly melting as his eyes gazed into yours. For someone who was horrible at lying, he was great at getting people to drop their walls, letting him in so he can dig around for more information. You tried to keep a brave face, but it was hard when you were met with a face that oozed compassion and understanding. Real understanding for what you really have been through.
You huffed, your voice gently breaking as you muttered back to him, “It’s complicated-”
Rogers let one of his hands rest on your shoulder, his head looking like it was dipping down to look deeper into your eyes. He was trying to get his point across as best as he could. He must have thought your big secret was out, and he was using gentleness as the best course of action to get you to soften up. You were extremely uncomfortable having someone outrightly confronting your “enhanced” abilities, but he still didn’t know the whole story. You could hide behind that for now.
“Then prove to me that I can trust you. Don’t give me any reason to doubt you from this moment forward.” You felt that familiar fire burn in your chest as he spoke. The same fire you felt when you got your first quest, in the Battle of Manhattan, and more. Even though you’ve learned so many lessons, you never seemed to get over the raging desire to prove yourself to someone. You’ve already proved yourself to your half blood friends; they didn’t even ask you to, but it was just written into your DNA that you must prove yourself to anyone who deems you worthy to spend time with. You kept trying to prove yourself to your mother, Athena. It was an uphill battle, especially when one of your half siblings, Annabeth, has accomplished so much. She’d hate that you’d be unabashedly pumping up her ego right now; it was never a competition, and it still wasn’t. You just wanted your mom to be proud of you, like any kid wanted.
So, when Captain America asked for you to prove yourself, your mind seemed to forget everything else that you ever cared for. This was your new mission, and they must have known you were desperate to be useful. They played you like a fiddle and you were still letting them. You just didn’t seem to care right now.
You gave him a nod, reaching into your pocket for your flip phone. You had noticed its presence in the pocket of your tunic when you got dressed, wondering why on earth they decided to let you have anything you’d be able to communicate to Maria with. Now, it made sense. Once Rogers said you needed to prove yourself, the pieces clicked into place, and you knew exactly how to ace his first test.
You held the little flip phone in your hands, having only three contacts on it. One being Maria, the second was Annabeth, and lastly, your dad’s old number. Like ripping off a bandaid, you decided to get it over with, silently cursing yourself for feeling attachment to the device. You shattered the phone in your hand, squeezing it until you felt the cheap plastic and metal bits break under the pressure of your force. The pieces fell to the floor, and you looked up to the Captain who had his eyes glued to you.
Even with a neutral face, his lips set into a grim line, his eyes were the gateway into what he felt. He didn’t always mask them, and you couldn’t ever tell if it was on purpose or not. You felt your chest fill as you swore you saw something like pride swirl in those blue irises.
__________________
After your talk, Rogers started leading you to a different part of the building, walking ahead of you in easy silence. Rogers didn’t seem to rest, immediately following your conversation with details of what’s next. He wanted you to get caught up with their intel on the crazy doctor, give thoughts to the team, and form some kind of plan that will get fine tuned for the next course of action. The captain made it seem like there were lots of pieces missing- whatever intel they had on her wasn’t much to paint a whole picture of what she’s been up to.
You were on what.. Hour 20 of no sleep? You could manage; you had been through much worse, but it still didn’t stop the haze edging into your peripherals. Exhaustion was seeping into your limbs as you walked behind Rogers, but you were thankful for the view without his piercing eyes boring holes into your soul. You felt like he could see through everything, every lie, every twist of the truth. His eyes sought the truth, and you couldn’t give it to him whole.
Instead of focusing on the weight of secrets, you focused on the back in front of you as you twisted down hallways, walking past windows, and staff that gave Rogers polite nods as he walked past. You focused on his impossibly broad shoulders, watching his body move underneath the material of his suit. It wasn’t skin tight, he seemed comfortable in it as if it were like a second skin. After the headlines announced the Avenger’s break up, you always caught yourself wondering what they did in their downtime. It didn’t surprise you that Rogers got comfortable working on his own, running from the government while still doing his best to protect people, even without his shield. You suppose it was symbolic that way; he was no longer representing the United States, but someone who helped others without any affiliation to any government. Your gaze drifted around, caught up in your thoughts as you admired the places where the suit really did seem to be skin tight.
Your gaze ripped away from Roger’s backside, looking up to the captain opening a large, heavy set of wooden doors. The doors opened into a spacious conference room, a large dark wood table set in the center of the room, shaped into a semi-circle that faced the front. The wall at the front consisted of six large, black panels, and had no decorations, artwork, or artifacts adorning the walls. The right side of the room was made entirely of windows, giving another spectacular view of the Wakanda cityscape. Your eyes drifted to the few people sitting and chatting around the table. Your eyes drifted to the familiar red-head, watching Natasha as she comfortably conversed with the two men in the room as you entered.
Rogers stepped into the room, and the three heads turned to him, giving small smiles as a greeting. As the eyes drifted to you, you swallowed thickly, feeling the buzz of anxiety make your stomach churn. You watched Rogers make his way to who you assumed was Bucky Barnes, watching as they patted each other on the back, throwing small quips back and forth. The other man, Sam Wilson, gave a hearty chuckle, standing up to greet Rogers similarly. Natasha stayed seated, her legs hanging over the arm of the chair she was sitting in, her smile comfortable and her eyes warm as she watched the boys greet each other.
“Got a new recruit to join our gang of criminals?” Sam laughed, his eyes looking over to you. His eyes seemed to sparkle as he grinned, reaching his hand out for a shake. His easiness pulled your lips into a small smile, and you gladly returned the gesture with a firm shake. You were grateful for his friendliness, your anxiety simmering as he calmed you with his kind nature.
“Maria had sent her to the base in Alaska; she has some valuable expertise that we can use to push forward on this.” Roger’s responded, watching with gentleness as Sam greeted you with warmth and smiles.
Bucky crossed over to you, also extending his hand for a quick shake. He gave you a curt nod.
“Happy to have some help. This lady has been running circles around us.” Bucky’s response wasn’t devoid of warmth, but it felt more business professional than anything. He was polite and careful, but you didn’t feel upset or uncomfortable by it. You felt it was unfair to feel anything else when Bucky had been through so much. You admired his ability to still get up and face this kind of work despite the mental toll.
You gave him a heartfelt smile, feeling the odd need to protect and befriend him. From the whole ordeal back in D.C., you remember seeing the video and pictures of him as the Winter Soldier. The dead, cold eyes held nothing, his mask acting like a muzzle. It made your heart pang seeing his face like that, especially now as you saw emotion fill his eyes. His hair was no longer long and stringy, but cropped short, a more modern haircut that kept him looking clean and fresh. It was nice to see him looking so alive.
“Are we ready to get this party started?” Natasha spoke up from her chair, an open laptop resting on her thighs.
“All business then, Nat.” Sam retorted, heaving an overly exasperated sigh as he drifted back to his chair, gesturing afterwards for you to follow suit.
“Get comfortable, we’ll be here for a while, kid.” Bucky mumbled, dropping into the chair to your left. Your gaze landed up front, watching the six large panels begin to fade, the panels twisting as they cascaded from one side to the other, revealing holographic screens underneath. Natasha began pulling up the file of the doctor, reports from past missions, and pictures of facilities like the one in Alaska that seemed to have been raided by the group. Your eyes raked over everything, scanning for bits and pieces of helpful information, trying to take it in all at once.
“Let’s get you up to speed, Agent.” Natasha spoke, bringing the doctor’s file to the forefront of all the holograms. Natasha’s voice sounded measured and focused, her demeanor switching from comfortable and easy to calculated. They really were throwing you right into the deep end with this, and they seemed awfully ready to trust you with all this information despite the accusations from earlier. Rogers seemed confident enough that you wouldn’t go running back to Fury with all this information. You knew it was another test of his, one that he was taking a risk on, but for some reason, you were worth it enough for him.
________________
You heaved a sigh, rubbing your hands over your face as Natasha went over the possible patterns she’s found in Dr. Achlys’ movements.
Finally a name to put to the face. Dr. Achlys was the perfect name for someone as evil and calculating as her limited file showed. Achlys, some lady who personified sorrow, sadness, and had a knack for poisons. You remember when Percy told you about his and Annabeth’s run in with her. She was horrid; making them feel like they were drowning in their own pain and suffering. Splendid.
And now you had her mortal counterpart wreaking havoc. From what the group has found so far, she’s always moving. She never stays somewhere long, especially not long enough for the crew to locate and hone in on her before she leaves. The reason she was on their radar in the first place was because she was a scientist at S.H.I.E.L.D., one that was awfully close to Zola. She had only spent a limited time with him, having been hired nearly two hours after her college graduation, but it was long enough to seduce her into the works of HYDRA. After Zola’s “death”, she carried on his legacy, working with the people under S.H.I.E.L.D. that were already loyal to the Nazi organization. However, there was a turning point for her in the early 2000s.
She somehow separated herself from HYDRA, but not for the name of good. She dropped off the face of the Earth, S.H.I.E.L.D. only having a two weeks notice letter and the normal offboarding paperwork to confirm it. Afterward, she disappears, leaving absolutely no trace in her bank accounts, her residence, or anything. Her bank accounts never emptied, her rent and bills continued to come in, and her residence was under surveillance, no one having come in or out of the place. Whoever looked into her back then tried to trace whoever was paying those bills, but only met dead ends. She became a ghost until her face got tagged on a DOT camera on a streetlight down on 7th in NYC. Her hood was up, but her face and tangle of curly hair was unmistakable. She was carrying a massive duffel on her back, sunglasses covering her eyes, as she quickly crossed the street in the dead of night. After catching her on camera, they found one of her aliases, Helen Anderson, and found she was picking up multiple prescriptions for depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, and even more. Natasha assumed this decline in mental health was the beginning of her descent into human trafficking and experimentation projects.
From what they found so far, she began this work back in the early 2010s. She began to involve herself with certain underground crime families in New York that dabbled in moving humans and weapons. Natasha thinks she’s still in contact with them, having them supply her with nearly everything she needs, possibly even funding every aspect of her new project. However, that’s where the details end. The rest that they had were possible locations they had on her, but every time they got there, it was cleared out. The only difference was Alaska; this was the first time she was still there when the cavalry came in, but she slipped out of their grasp flawlessly.
It was also the first time they ran into another agent. So, Natasha had you reviewing every mission Maria gave you, every detail, every location. They were pouring over the details, waiting to contact Maria to learn where she got her information to send you there. For some reason, Captain Rogers didn’t think it was a coincidence that you were there when Dr. Achlys was.
Rogers kept glancing your way, the cogs in his brain turning as he stared, his hands resting in his lap while his thumbs fiddled. You met his eyes, feeling like you knew exactly what he was thinking. While the team didn’t know the context of Dr. Achlys’ project and experiments, you both knew the connection to you and what the doctor was working on. Rogers was kind enough to refrain from outing your… difference to the group. You felt slight dread as you knew what you had to do. If Rogers was going to trust you, then you figured it was time to speak up.
You cleared your throat, making Natasha pause in her pacing. Bucky looked up from one of the paper mission reports, and Sam turned his head toward you.
“I think I know why she was there when I showed up. I think the intel was planted, and she was waiting for me,” You spoke out, nervousness seeping into your voice. You hated feeling so exposed, especially to people, while familiar, were still fairly new to you. Revealing this part of yourself still wasn’t the truth. You weren’t going to give them exact details and context, but it was close enough to make you worry.
“There was a young girl at the facility when I was looking around. I helped her escape, but she was like me. She was a mutant.” You muttered, your eyes flickering around to the group, watching as they processed the new information. You looked to Rogers, hoping to find an anchor to ground yourself with. You’ve come to expect his gentleness, and it was comforting to find him relaxed after breaking the news. Sure, he already knew what you confessed to the team, but it was still a relief to see that small hint of approval in his bearded face.
“The girl in the woods. You weren’t crazy, Rogers.” Natasha looked to the captain, a small smile on her lips. You knew he saw her that night, but you weren’t sure if The Mist was going to cover that part up. Apparently, he was the only one to see her. Before either Natasha or Rogers could ask more about the girl and where she went, which you were sure they were curious about, Sam turned to you.
“So what’s your superpower?” Sam’s question made you snap your head toward him. His smile made you laugh to yourself in your head. You never really considered being a half-blood a superpower; it made you feel almost normal when he asked.
“Well, I’ve got some super strength and durability…I guess just overall endurance and survival.” It was hard to condense the extra gifts from being a child of Athena into some DNA mutation. You don’t remember a member of the X-Men being gifted with just war tactics knowledge and weaponry proficiency. Seemed a bit underwhelming compared to super healing, energy absorption or wings. Sam took your answer anyway, nodding in acceptance. You caught him throwing some type of glance toward Rogers; you didn’t really know how to interpret it from the short glimpse you saw.
Natasha seemed to be chewing on your words, her eyes drifting back up to all the holograms with Dr. Achlys’ file. She grabbed her laptop, immediately pulling up missing person’s reports from each area they found a facility. She filtered the reports, looking at reports of known mutants. It removed thousands of people to only a handful. Looking back up to the holograms, she brought all of them forward, enlarging the texts. Before Natasha continued, you spoke up.
“Filter it a second time, only showing kids under 18.” Natasha did as you said, her eyes questioning as she looked back at you. All that was left were 3 reports.
If Dr. Achlys was really after demigods, she wouldn’t likely be going after adults. She’d likely be going after kids, especially if they are new demigods who just learned who they really are. It so far seemed to fit your theory as the missing kids were all around 13 years old.
“It’s probably easier to round up mutants who are likely newer to their mutation, and who haven’t really tested their abilities and limits. I doubt she would be after adult mutants.” You gave Natasha some reasoning to your madness, doing your best to make it sound logical and reasonable. Everyone seemed to accept your reasoning, further discussing the files ahead. You sat back, looking at the pictures of the kids. You weren’t sure if mutant kids would work for finding missing demigods or if they were actually demigods. It was a long shot, but it seemed to be the only lead they had besides full on fighting crime families in New York. You would have to take a leap and hope there was a thread to follow. Breaking your train of thought, Rogers stood up, interrupting the discussion between the boys and Natasha.
“This is our next step. We’ll follow the trail of these missing kids, and find the bits and pieces Dr. Achlys failed to hide. We’ll catch her, but get some rest. We head back to the states tomorrow.” Captain Rogers made eye contact with you, giving you a subtle nod. You did good work today, giving them good information that kept them moving forward.
You were still wondering exactly why Dr. Achlys had the attention of Captain Rogers. Sure she used to be HYDRA, but now she just seemed a run of the mill bad guy that usually people like you handled. It didn’t seem big enough for an Avenger level threat, but maybe there was more to this than they were telling you. You’d have to wait to find out; sleep called to you, and you felt immense relief as you collapsed into the plush bed that Natasha had led you to after Rogers dismissed everyone. Looking out at the Wakandan skyline, you felt like the past 24 hours had sped by, not really believing you were physically in a different country, but that everything was a dream.
The whiplash of change was enough to make your exhaustion take over, sleep overtaking you as dreams of blue eyes and sparkling city lights clouded your mind.
Notes:
leave any comments you like :)
thank you for reading and leaving kudos! I really enjoy writing again, so I've been having a really fun time. Comments and kudos really make me feel validated so thank you so much.
p.s.- yes the x-men exist in this universe but mutant laws and x-men type situations will not be addressed. mutant hate does not exist in this fic
Chapter 5: My Babysitter is a Super Soldier
Notes:
Just a forewarning, I did not take much time at all to proofread this so FORGIVE ME. I just want to get this posted before I get lost in the sauce of life lmao
Love y'all you guys are great, thanks for reading!!!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Soft bird chirping filled your ears, a warm and gentle breeze flitted across your face where you sat on an old, creaky rocking chair. The flight back to the states was easy and restful, the safe house Natasha had flown you all to was comfortable; it was an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania that she didn’t keep on any S.H.I.E.L.D. files. It was someplace that she kept solely in her own memory, and you were grateful for the peacefulness embedded in the rolling hills and thick forests that lay before you. The morning was hazy, dew dampening the green grass, making the blades sparkle in the rising sun.
Your focus was brought back from your surroundings when you heard the creak of the screen door, looking up as Bucky walked out of the house with two mugs of coffee in his hands. You gratefully took the mug that he handed to you, letting the warmth seep into your fingers and the steam drift up into your face.
“They should be back in 15,” Bucky mumbled to you, his voice scratchy and deep as he had only woken up a few minutes ago. He took a seat beside you in the matching rocking chair, creaking as he leaned back, his slippered feet keeping the chair from rocking forward. He took almost obnoxiously loud sips of his coffee while he admired the orange hued view. You were both taking it in before Natasha and the boys returned, getting lost in the horizon before you had to return to reality.
The location was the epitome of stillness, but your thoughts were stormy, uncertainty tainting your enjoyment of your surroundings. You felt unsure about everything, often finding yourself in the past few days feeling that you didn’t really belong here. You ached for the familiarity of your shield and spear, wanting some sense of grounding as your life was turned upside down. Those items of yours were still being kept from you; you weren’t even sure if they were in Wakanda or if the crew took them along. As much as they were willing to give out information on Dr. Achlys to you, they didn’t take you on any recent missions to chase down those leads or leave you with your familiar weapons, leaving one member of the small group to babysit you.
It was Bucky’s turn this time, and he kept his distance, leaving you to your own devices. Sam kept you company most of the time when it was his turn, chatting about little things like favorite movies, card games, and other random topics. You didn’t mind Bucky’s elusiveness; if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t have been very keen on babysitting duty. His avoidance of interaction was something you couldn’t fault him for. Every now and then, while you kept yourself busy when the team was gone, you could feel his eyes watching you. You felt some sort of pride fill your chest knowing they weren’t underestimating your skills by keeping a sharp eye on you, but you also had no idea how to even sneak around people like them. Not that you wanted to. You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t ecstatic for the opportunity to work with some of the most powerful and knowledgeable people in this type of business. You made it a point to be on your best behavior.
You’ve been enjoying the mornings this week, letting Bucky have his space in the small home as you sat outside to enjoy the forest waking up with the sun. So, you were quite surprised when Bucky came out and joined you this time. You couldn’t help the small smile that slipped onto your face, hiding it in your cup of coffee.
“So what’s it like being a mutant?” Bucky murmured into his cup, keeping his gaze focused out into the yard.
“About the same as being a super soldier,” you quickly retorted, wondering how to navigate the facade of your mutant abilities. It wasn’t even about keeping your demigod identity a secret; you were literally protecting Bucky and the team from losing their minds.
Bucky huffed, setting his mug on the floorboards of the deck, almost already empty of black coffee.
“Just as traumatic, huh.” He heaved a small sigh, stuffing his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie.
“You had to handle raw power at a much younger age than I did.” He spoke softly, his eyes finally glancing over to you. Despite him not knowing the whole truth, there was a mutual understanding drifting between you two.
“It was hard… I was 11 when I figured it all out. My dad freaked out, but he loved me despite it.” you smiled fondly, picturing his face in the back of your mind. He was always happiest when he was in the laboratory, bringing his happy, fidgety daughter to work every Friday afternoon.
Bucky nodded, listening intently to the little pieces of information you gave him. He didn’t speak for a few moments, giving you space to talk more if you wanted. You didn’t take the opportunity, letting the world around you fill the silence. You weren’t interested in rehashing old, painful memories with a view like this.
“So, the girl back in Alaska… what exactly happened to her?” Bucky asked, not probing, but you could hear the concern in his voice. He wasn’t accusatory either; he seemed to be very intentional with the tone of his voice.
“Being a mutant, you kind of tend to group up with others like you. I had a way of contacting a friend who got her out, so she’s perfectly safe,” you made it a point to leave any discernible details out of your explanation. They didn’t need to know that your “mutant friend” wasn’t even in the area, but shadow traveled to the girl and got her back to New York in barely two minutes. Bucky seemed content with your answer, nodding as he contemplated what you said. He kept quiet, letting you stew on what you revealed to him.
“You know, you don’t have to keep calling Steve, Captain,” Bucky broke the silence, a small smile playing on his face, almost mischievous. You furrowed your eyebrows, and your mouth parted slightly in confusion. Taking note of your face, Bucky chuckled.
“He never really got used to people calling him that. He accepted the title and power beyond the physical capabilities his serum gave him, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. At the end of the day, he’s still a man, and that man is just Steve,” Bucky smiled fully, showing his teeth as he seemed to think back on a distant memory as he stared down at his lap.
“I would hardly say he’s just Steve… but I get it.” You smiled back, feeling the breeze pick up. You turned to Bucky, watching him look at a perimeter sensor that was alarming on his phone. The team was finally back from their mission, and would be touching down in a few minutes. You looked to the right, spotting the Quinjet in the distance as it flew in low, coming toward the large open field next to the house.
Bucky got to his feet, walking down the steps of the porch and out to the yard, the wind from the Quinjet whipping his hoodie around his body. You placed your empty mug on the railing of the porch, following him out to the field as the Quinjet hovered and lowered to the ground. The back of it popped open with a hiss, slowly lowering the cargo door revealing a tired looking Steve, Natasha, and Sam. They walked down the ramp, Natasha giving Bucky a small hug, and you a quick squeeze of the shoulder. She didn’t say much, just casual greetings to you two, slipping into the house quickly. She seemed to be mentally exhausted, her breaths shallow, and her eyes empty of their usual shine. Her smile was kind, but more of a point for you and Bucky, not one that slipped onto her face without purpose. You watched her go, turning back around as you heard Steve and Sam’s footsteps approach.
“It’s worse than we thought,” Steve spoke, his voice quiet. He wore a gentle frown, his lips downturned at the corners. His eyes were solemn as he looked at you. You met his eyes with sorrow, fearing for the half bloods that were in the hands of Achlys. You could feel in your gut that there was far more to Dr. Achlys than human experimentation; it felt like she knew far more than she should, and that the veil between mortals and the gods was thinning. You felt an itch at the back of your neck, wishing for comfort as you processed the graveness of Steve and Sam’s demeanors.
“We’ll talk inside,” Steve almost whispered, his words flipping a switch in Bucky and Sam as they immediately began grabbing packs from the Quinjet to bring inside. You quickly made a beeline for the porch, snatching up the mugs from earlier now housing the remnants of cold coffee. It seemed the chill of what the team came home with sucked away all the warmth of the morning, the orange hues of the sunrise now gone as it rose higher.
Inside the home, you made your way to the little kitchen, cleaning up the mugs, and putting the dry dishes away. As you cleaned, you heard the boys come in, softly talking back and forth as they directed each other on where to put items, doing their best to clean up after themselves while remaining quiet for Natasha’s sake. Once you finished, you made your way into the small living room, plopping down onto the old couch. You sunk into the worn leather in the corner of the couch, wrapping your legs up in a small quilt. The boys slowly filed into the room a few moments later, finding spots to sit. Sam was to the right of you, and Bucky and Steve across, sitting in two arm chairs.
Steve reached across toward you, handing you a stuffed file filled with a thick wad of loose papers. You opened it up, digging through papers, but only getting quick glances at everything as you peeked around. There were documents of listed laboratory procedures, charts filled with data, and some printed communications. Your eyes stopped at large pictures, images that seemed to be developed recently. The images showed stark clean laboratory spaces, more stainless steel tables and equipment. As you sifted through them, you felt your stomach drop as the pictures suddenly showed some kind of open refrigerator unit stocked full with blood collection bags. Red was smeared on the floor, evidence of a split open collection bag sitting in a pool on the floor.
“What is this?” you almost choked, looking up at Steve and Sam. You passed the rest of the papers and pictures to Bucky, keeping the one photo of the refrigerator unit in your hands.
“We followed a trail of one of the missing teens to an old laboratory space we never came across when chasing Achlys. We did some digging there, and found lots of things that got left behind. A small crew was there before us, packing up the last pieces of equipment that hinted at what she was doing before they left. They didn’t get to bring back whatever she was after,” Steve responded, his posture stick straight as he spoke, barely looking like he was even resting in his chair.
You gulped, feeling a rock in your throat as the anxiety whirled in your head, creating a hurricane where your thoughts continued to race.
“We think she’s building something; there were a bunch of metal scraps lying around and tools left behind. We don’t know what she’s building, but it somehow has to do with all that blood she had been hoarding. There were three other refrigeration units, but they were all empty and clean,” Sam chimed in, his eyes intently watching you as you processed the information. You felt some of your uncertainty fill in the gaps of the puzzle you were putting together in your head; you now understood exactly why they needed someone like you on their team.
Not a half blood, or a mutant per se, but they needed someone with a somewhat enhanced degree in chemistry or biology. After S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, you went back to school, never having gone to college right after high school. You went straight for the ex-organization, wanting to use your special demigod skills for the greater good, but you never pursued a higher education like your father wanted. Without an organization to work for, absolutely not even considering the FBI or CIA, you decided you’d do what your father had always wished for you. You did undergrad at NYU, getting a BSA in BioChemistry, then pursued a Masters and eventually, your PhD in molecular genetics. It’s funny, you chose that path to feel closer to your dead father, not having the strength to even use it once you were done. You couldn’t bear the pain of going back to a laboratory without him there. That’s how you ended up coaching a bunch of feral high school girls.
“You think I can decipher what she’s doing with the pictures you got? And these random pieces of data charts and protocols?” You asked, looking up at the group, almost in disbelief. You wouldn’t say you weren’t confident in your abilities, but you did not feel like you had the expertise to tackle something like this with very vague pictures. You never even put your degrees to use, so you were probably rusty.
“We wouldn’t have considered pulling you into this if you couldn’t handle it, Agent. Any help is progress to painting the bigger picture,” Steve said, his eyes firmly landing on yours. His arms were folded across his chest, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his grey t-shirt. You held his stare, feeling the encouragement laced in his statement, feeling like you were being coached like you did with your athletes. You looked back at the image, feeling the weight of your new task settle onto your shoulders. You gave Steve a small nod.
“I’ll give it my best, Steve.” You responded, feeling satisfied when he gave you a small smile.
“That’s what I like to hear,” He spoke, the smile lingering on his face, one corner of his lips lifting up. His eyes seemed to fill with life, the blue irises brightening as the earlier graveness seemingly left his face for a few moments. You felt a smile lighten your face, your insides no longer turning from anxiety but excitement. You were more than delighted to take on a challenge and prove to yourself that you could contribute something to this team of heroes. Whatever it took for those half bloods. Whatever it took for Steve to trust you.
—------------------
You sat at the sturdy dining room table, your work spread out around you on the thick oak slab. You had been looking through pictures and documents for a few hours, thinking through ideas, studying reports, and sketching parts of machines that were pictured. The team didn’t get pictures of everything, not fully understanding the machines that were in front of them at the time. However, you were still able to piece information together; the things you were finding were making you more uneasy as you discovered them.
You heard soft padding of feet, looking up just as Natasha walked in, her damp hair plaited into an intricate braid that lay on her shoulder. She still looked damp from the shower, swimming in her comfy clothes, stray drops from the ends of her hair seeping into her clothing. Her face didn’t change, a sense of calm weighing on her as she gave you a nod of acknowledgement, walking past you to tinker around in the kitchen.
“Making any progress?” She asked, her voice slightly crackling, still recovering from her few hours of rest. You heard her putting a dish into the microwave, the beeps old and obnoxiously loud.
“Quite a bit, actually.” You tiptoed carefully into this conversation, not wanting to bring up something that would send her off skittering back to her secluded space in the attic bedroom of the home. You kind of guessed what had spooked her from their expedition, but you still wanted to be thoughtful and gentle. You were sure most people didn’t consider her thoughts and feelings as much as they should have.
When she finished warming up her meal in the microwave, she found a seat next to yours, her legs folded under herself as she sat. Her eyes darted over your notes and the documents, not really taking in the information, but still observing from the surface.
“Scary stuff. If this is too much, you’re allowed to back out. I’ll happily take you back to New York whenever you want,” she said matter of factly, but you could hear the kindness and care in what she said. She meant it, and you gave her a smile.
“That means a lot, Natasha. I won’t say what I’ve managed to figure out isn’t scary, but I didn’t enter this business to not face the horror. We protect people from what’s hiding in the dark,” You said, feeling the message ring in your head. You felt a slew of images fill your head; all the people you couldn’t protect from evil hiding in the shadows. You twitched, your hand squeezing into a fist on your lap, hidden from Natasha’s view under the table.
“You’re a good egg,” Natasha smirked, continuing her meal. She pointed with her knuckle to some of the papers.
“Give me the rundown. I’ll try to put it into small terms for the simpletons upstairs.”
You chuckled, shifting around the documents and images, grabbing a glossy picture that showed what looked like a mess of metallics and tubing.
“From what I can figure, this looks like a machine that somehow separates proteins from blood plasma. There are certain ways to extract proteins from plasma, but you usually know what proteins you are looking for. That way, you can kind of filter the plasma and pull out what you want. From what I can see, this extracts everything that is unknown. It’s quite unheard of, looking for something that you don’t even know what its components are.” You felt like you were rambling, but Natasha nodded, looking engaged as she followed along.
You reached for another picture that showed a long line of centrifuges.
“There’s at least 8 or 9 centrifuges in this picture; it’s like a huge assembly line just for separating red blood cells from the blood plasma. They basically spin vials of blood around super fast to separate the plasma from the blood. The plasma holds whatever she’s looking for, and she was looking through gallons of blood.” You pointed at another picture of an up close look at some blood bags.
“What’s even more interesting is she was looking through all blood types. She wasn’t looking specifically for O negative or anything like that. So whatever she was looking for, it was something that was in any type. There also aren’t any names attached to blood bags, so she wasn’t worried about any type of disease or mutation that’s in the blood. She doesn’t care about tracing the blood back to whichever kid she took it from,” You felt like a mad woman, reaching for pictures and explaining your findings from documents and pictures. Your hands felt like they were flipping about as you spoke, making gestures as you explained things. After you were done explaining everything, you looked up and saw Natasha’s intense stare. She wasn’t really looking at you, but off in the distance as she pondered.
After a moment, her eyes flickered to you.
“Good work. This is information that gave us a huge push forward,” She abruptly stood, abandoning the last bits of her meal. She gave you an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder as she bustled past, quickly padding back up the stairs. You heard a door squeak open and mumblings. They almost sounded argumentative, but you could be mistaking intensity for confrontation.
You surveyed your work, feeling like there were pieces missing. As scary as it was seeing all that blood, knowing it came from demigods, you were wondering if she kept all the kids she took. You only saw the one girl back in Alaska, and they had been taking blood from her. They weren’t completely draining her, but enough at a time to consistently keep her weak and dizzy. You remembered those cabinets that lined the walls, wondering what they concealed and hid from you in your haste. You wish you could go back to dig through everything, so you scraped through every memory to find clues that would correlate with the findings you had in front of you.
Before you finished ravaging through your memories, you heard quick steps down the stairs, a hasty Natasha followed by a flustered Steve who seemed to have been woken up from a deep sleep. His hair was strewn about, some tufts of hair drooping down onto his forehead. His shirt and pants were all twisted; the man looked like he wrestled with sleep instead of actually getting any. His expression didn’t match his ruffled appearance; he was all business as he strode over to you, leaning over the table to look at some of your notes.
“Explain to me what you just told Nat,” he spoke firmly, but not loud or demanding. He was mindful of his tone at every moment, keeping a level head with you despite the rush from whatever Natasha told him that made them so urgent.
You went through all the details, taking extra care to sound more eloquent with your explanation rather than the rambling with Natasha. You pointed to pictures to help him follow your reasoning, giving details and background to help make things make sense.
There was a beat of silence after you finished. Steve’s jaw clenched as he looked over everything. He turned to you and gave you a nod.
“That’s great work, thank you.” He spoke genuinely, the serious expression never leaving his face. He took a seat next to you, pulling a small notebook out of his pocket. He opened it, turning to pages at the back, and shifted the book toward you to see. You saw a sketch of harsh lines, what looked like a machine for a person to be laying in. There were pumps and tubing at both ends of the machine, at the head and at the foot of the supposed bed. There were subtle indications for straps that lay limp, meant to strap the person down to the table. Around the table looked like mechanical arms, arms with sharp looking points on them. They radiated out of the side of the machine, like rays of a sun. It seemed like some sort of medieval torture device. You glanced up to Steve, expecting an explanation.
“There was a film camera in the lab that we took, and we couldn’t find any more film canisters around. I looked this whole thing over, keeping it to memory so I could sketch it when we got back. These arms with the points, they had hinges on them so they could bend over the body that lay on the table. There was a series of dials and gauges on the back of it; most things I couldn’t decipher. There was one dial that said extraction and insertion. The tubing connected the pumps to the arms, but everything was empty. The entire bed was sitting in what looked like a fish tank.” Steve spoke, poking to different parts of his drawing as he explained them.
You felt sick to your stomach. You still weren’t sure what Dr. Achlys was after, but it had something to do with the internal systems of half bloods. The team was probably thinking she was after some genetic mutation, but she wasn’t. Demi gods technically didn’t have DNA mutations. They were just a mix of their parents like expected; it just so happened one parent wasn’t so normal. But the bed Steve had drawn was something entirely different. Could she have been genetically enhancing demigods? Enhancing them more than they already were? You didn’t really know how to stomach all this. You looked to Steve almost desperately, wanting some direction from your leader as you felt all this new information begin to drown you.
“We also found a pile of weapons. They all looked exactly like your shield and spear; they had that glowing bronze or brassy color to them. We had no idea what to make of that when we saw it,” Natasha spoke, standing right behind Steve with her arms folded over her chest. Her face looked haunted, managing to stomach the thought of these teenagers, these kids, getting experimented on in some horrible way. You felt the bile rise in the back of your throat as you faced what this all truly meant. You had no idea how to keep the demigod world a secret from them any longer after Natasha shared that last detail; you knew their minds couldn’t handle the weight of that reality. How were they supposed to fight this only having half truths?
You had an idea, but it required getting your mom’s attention.
“This is a lot worse than we thought,” You muttered, the details steam rolling over any logistical thought in your brain. All you could think about were the half bloods that were in danger. There was no way the gods hadn’t noticed this, and for some reason hadn’t warned anyone, not even Chiron. You could only imagine the rage Percy would feel once he found out…
“This just became an Avenger level threat,” Steve muttered, his hand holding his face, rubbing at his beard and lips. You could see the realization hit him, everything about him going rigid.
“I thought the Avengers broke up?” You stated more than asked. You knew they weren’t really together after the government, more so Secretary Ross, who publicly denounced Captain America and his compatriots like common criminals. You honestly didn’t even know where the rest of the Avengers were that weren’t in this little house.
Steve took a breath, slowly getting to his feet. He applauded your work again, feeding you another compliment as he stepped away, Natasha close behind him. Without your slightly enhanced senses, you probably wouldn’t have heard what Steve told Natasha. He turned his head toward his right slightly, keeping his voice low as he spoke to her.
“I have to make the call. Tomorrow, we head back to New York.”
Before they retreated up the stairs, you saw a small flicker of movement. You watched Natasha as she pressed a small flip phone into Steve’s palm. His head hung low, pain and remorse filling the space of the empty house, all of it radiating off of Steve.
Notes:
PREPARE YOUR BUTTS FOR AN AVENGER'S REUNION
also I guess this fic isn't going to be compliant with age of ultron either cause banner is not going to be awol in space. too many complications I like things to be convenient for me so I just pretend things *didn't happen*
Chapter 6: My Mom Grave Robs Her Favorite Dead Guy
Notes:
The amount of love I have received for this fic is beyond anything I have ever imagined! Thank you so much for reading! Your encouragement gives me the bravery to keep going!
I love y'all so much
Also, I got a couple questions about lore. I am following the Riordan Wiki about the way his world works, so if I'm not clear on something, the wiki is what I'm trying to go off of. I'll keep making edits to chapters, looking for grammar or spelling issues! I have a busy week so I tried to get this to y'all. It's a longer one so enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It had been two days since you saw Natasha slip that flip phone into Steve’s hands. There was arguing between Steve and Bucky behind closed doors since then; they weren’t angry words from what you had been hearing through the walls. They were just… worried. You didn’t really know how to piece these bits of information together; you didn’t fully understand the intensity that filled the house after Steve’s recent realization. The flip phone had an iron grip on him, leaving him restless. You’ve caught him staring at the flip phone more than once.
This most recent morning, you stepped out onto the porch, yearning for the serenity of the sunrise. In your usual spot sat Steve, resting his cheek on his soft closed fist, his eyes downturned to the flip phone resting on his leg.
In a moment like this, he looked less like Captain America and more like Steve. Sitting on the porch, he wasn’t a man who held up the ideals of freedom and justice on his back, inspiring everyone he reaches and saves. His command presence wasn’t oozing off of him, filling the space he took up. Here, in the countryside with morning light shining on him, he looked like a simple man. Navy blue socks covered his feet that were planted on the creaky floorboards of the porch. He was wearing sweatpants and a tight athletic shirt that hugged every inch of him. The chill of the morning didn’t seem to bother his exposed arms. He was too caught up in what that phone held over him.
He barely registered your presence, so deep in thought that it took you announcing yourself with a hushed good morning. He seemed to ease out of his contemplation once he looked up at you, a dull smile on his face when he realized he wasn’t alone.
You noticed him slip the phone into his pocket as he greeted you, gesturing for you to take the empty rocking chair next to him. You slumped down into it, keeping the blanket you had snug around your shoulders to keep out the chill of the morning. You looked at Steve, watching him shift in his seat, his hand resting on his full pocket.
“Did you manage to get any sleep last night?” You spoke to him, watching his jaw clench. You had no idea what had him tying himself up into knots; you didn’t think the Avengers were on such bad terms. You guessed fighting it out didn’t really clear the air.
“I’m sorry if I woke you,” Steve quickly apologized, the words genuine and sweet. He seemed almost embarrassed that his pacing last night was noticed by you, but it wasn’t his fault. Your heightened senses were something you never knew was different about you until it was pointed out; when you were a kid, you always assumed everyone could hear each other’s heartbeats and full conversations through walls and barriers. Tuning things out when you wanted was always second nature, but you couldn’t help but notice Steve’s quiet pacing last night.
“Don’t be sorry,” You motioned to your ears as you spoke. “It’s a part of my whole thing… my senses are heightened a bit,” Your voice trailed off, also feeling the flush of embarrassment creep up your neck.
It wasn’t a lie, but it still felt like one. You’ve been wanting to spill your guts to Steve ever since your own realization about the stakes of Dr. Achlys’ work. You couldn’t handle her alone, and you refused to put any more demigods in harm's way if she was collecting them for her project. When Steve showed you that machine, your entire body went cold, and you felt like you hadn’t been able to rid yourself of the chill since. Even so, you still would not give in to the desire for them to know what was really at stake here until you could ensure their sanity. You didn’t want to be the person to break Captain America’s mind.
There was a moment of silence where Steve seemed to be mulling over his next words. He seemed so tense, like a taut rubber band that was about to snap. It was almost unnerving to see a man like him struggle with a mental weight that felt incredibly massive.
“You don’t have to tell me. Whatever is bothering you I mean. I know… I know I’m still the new guy that’s just jumping into all this.” All of a sudden you felt parched, your mouth was dry and you felt like you were beginning to ramble. Your throat was catching as you tried to swallow. You had a hard time putting your thoughts to words, wanting to sound eloquent and kind. Instead, you felt like you were vomiting words into your lap.
“But I’m here to support this team in whatever way I can, and to me, that means I can also be a pillar to lean on,” You couldn’t help the small huff of laughter that escaped you.
“It feels so wrong telling Captain America that I of all people can support him-”
“Captain America or not, everyone needs someone they can rely on,” Steve interrupted you, his bright eyes finally shifting over to you, his demeanor shifting. He shifted masks so effortlessly, the stress leaving him for a moment, a kinder and softer man now looking at you. He let the moment linger, his prolonged eye contact with you seemed to be his way of ensuring you heard and understood his words. Once he looked satisfied, he turned his eyes away.
“Families are hard,” Steve almost whispered, his eyes flickering down, as if trying to avoid your gaze. He was acting like he admitted something to you that he should have kept to himself. The pain was there, you could feel it leaking into the air, it slipping from Steve’s grasp. He definitely was the type to bottle everything up, keeping it to himself as his usual act of selflessness, so others didn’t have to carry it with him. This was something large enough that even he couldn’t keep it all contained.
You understood what he said to a certain degree. Granted, your family was a lot more… dysfunctional. You were sure of that.
“I understand more than you know,” You mumbled, suddenly wishing for the presence of your family. The ones who were gone, and the ones who still walked the Earth. You missed a certain pair of gray eyes, a super pale emo, and a loud and obnoxious son of Poseidon.
“You have a family?” Steve asked, his eyes flickering back to you. His question wasn’t asked out of surprise or for probing purposes; genuine interest was rich in his words.
“Not by blood. Not anymore at least,” You smiled, feeling that grief-ricken nostalgia pang in your chest, the pain burning as you kept certain memories at bay. You watched a similar smile make its way onto Steve’s face, the familiarity of your situations warming the space around you.
“Tell me about them,” He spoke, his lower register droning into the air, making your heart beat a bit faster. The encouragement in his grin ignited the spark in your heart, no sense of filter crossing your mind as you began to speak about your friends. His smile broadened ever so slightly as he watched you speak, your joy filling your lungs and leaking into the air as you exhaled. You swore you could feel your friends’ presence around you as you told Steve all about them.
________________________
It was time to go.
The ride to New York would be short; apparently you weren’t too far from wherever Steve wanted to go. Natasha had begun to fill you in on everything during the ride over, Bucky piloting the Quinjet as Sam and Steve spoke behind him, keeping their voices low.
You felt your throat tighten and constrict when Natasha had given you the rundown. Listening as she quietly told you what had happened to cause the rift between everyone, and it really was worse than you ever thought. The pain of Bucky’s past as the Winter Soldier was enough as it was, but the complexity of the dynamics between him, Steve, and Tony Stark was diabolical. The man who was purposely dividing the Avengers had done what he set out to do, and he did it well.
You felt that sinking feeling in your stomach as you thought ahead to the anger Steve and Bucky were about to face. Putting yourself in Tony’s shoes, it would be a hard thing to forgive. Someone you undoubtedly trusted betraying you in such a raw and painful way was a type of pain you hadn’t truly faced, and you knew it wasn’t an easy thing to forget. You still understood why Steve protected Bucky in that bunker, but it was his own doing that forced him to protect him from Tony’s wrath. There were so many wrongs that you couldn’t really place blame on people in your head. Natasha was right when she said the rift was something far bigger than the accords, even though they probably fueled the fire.
After you got caught up to speed, she told you something even worse.
“Natasha, I haven’t even been on a recent reconnaissance mission with you four where I wasn’t in cuffs, and you expect me to just casually meet the rest of the Avengers in ten minutes?” You forced your words out, the syllables croaking from your mouth. Natasha just smiled at you, her amusement flickering in her face as she mostly tried to be gentle with you.
“You're not the one I’m worried about; you’ll hold your own just fine,” she spoke matter of factly, her eyes twitching over in Steve’s direction. You ignored Natasha’s mutterings behind you, hearing her mumble something about how some members of the team not even being there. You supposed she didn’t really know what everyone was up to these days. Either way, you groaned and wrung your hands, your eyes drifting back to Steve and Sam.
The boys weren’t wearing any of their combat suits; they were all clad in a mix of jeans and casual tops and jackets. You knew things would be tense, yet you weren’t really prepared for them to all look uncomfortable. Bucky had looked far more grave than anybody. His face was pale, and his right hand was trembling back at the farmhouse before take off. He was almost sweating as everyone was preparing the house for dormancy, his eyes staring into some far off place as everyone bustled around him.
“It doesn’t help that I’m wearing child sized clothes,” you grumbled, feeling a smile spread on your face when you heard Natasha give barely any effort to stifle her chuckle.
“I never prepared that house for six foot giants as my guests,” she quipped back, watching as you tried to tug down the sleeves of your shirt, the cuffs ending just below your forearms, leaving your wrists exposed. You could feel her gaze drift to the pants you stuffed yourself into.
“Yeah okay, we’ll find you something when we get inside,” she muttered, wincing as you made her nice pair of sweatpants into a pair of shoddy capris.
You hoped you would blend into the background enough that people wouldn’t notice your exposed ankles. You wanted to put your best foot forward if you were going to meet some of the most brilliant and strong people on this planet, especially if your fellow demigod, Thor, would be there. You weren’t really sure if he was considered a demigod; you were pretty confident he was just full god.
“5 minutes,” Bucky raised his voice, projecting back to where you and Natasha sat. She stood, gesturing for you to follow her to the front of the quinjet. You did as she ordered, coming up behind her to stare out of the cockpit’s windows to the expansive woods before you. It looked similar to the woods you had just left behind, the tree cover was dense, not giving you any views into the forest floor beneath. The quinjet slowed, feeling it shift as it reduced its speed. Out in the distance, you could see something peeking out of the canopy of the trees.
As the quinjet approached, your eyes began to widen as you saw the huge A on a massive structure come into view.
You felt your jaw slacken, not fully comprehending the vastness of the facility Natasha said they were headed to. The Avengers Compound was something close to legend; the secrecy about it made the general public wonder and mystify it, making it sound more like myth than reality. Here it was before you, the cutting edge designs and architecture of the space jutting out from the landscape. Concrete and glass filled your vision, but you noticed something else about the place. It seemed so barren, almost void of color, like someone came in and sucked the life out of everything. Where there wasn’t paved paths and buildings, there was green shrubbery and grass, but even they seemed leeched of their brightness. Everything was empty.
You had to assume they would have more people working for them to keep the place running; groups of smaller agents or task forces perhaps. People they could rely on to support them, to prioritize protection and movement of civilians out of battle zones. People that were necessary to keep the facilities themselves clean and running, and basic security. Yet, there were no groups of people out and about. Lights seemed turned off, and nobody looked like they were home.
Bucky circled the main building, slowly bringing the quinjet down to the helipad on the roof of the main structure. You moved with Natasha to the back, bringing down the cargo door once the quinjet’s engines were turned off and everything was stationary. She hooked her arm with yours, her sparkling eyes looking at you.
“Things are about to get very tense. This is my family too, so I won’t be able to babysit you forever,” She smiled despite her warning, her hand patting yours before letting you go. You gave her a nod of understanding, standing off to the side to let everyone lead the way. She followed behind Steve, Sam and Bucky as they walked out of the quinjet, making their way over to a roof access door. You looked around the small bay of the ship, looking at the packed bags that were being left behind. You guessed that they weren’t sure if they would be welcome enough to stay. Might as well make less work for everyone if they were asked to leave.
You lagged behind as you followed them, their steps crunching as they walked across the gravel to the access door. Before they could reach it, a man opened the door, stepping out with his arms crossed. He didn’t look displeased to see them, but his expression was still tense. He wore a special type of braces around his legs, limping slightly as he stepped toward Steve. You listened closely, feeling unsure as you watched them interact.
“Rhodey,” Steve’s voice was low and tentative, testing the waters with Rhodey who seemed to be the middleman between Steve and Tony. Rhodey was likely going to be their only chance to get into this place to try and speak with Tony. There was no greeting between them, no handshakes or hugs. Just stares.
“He doesn’t want to see you, Steve,” Rhodey responded, his stance firm and his face tight. He looked like he was in pain too, beyond whatever irked him and his legs. His tone was protective, but not angered or annoyed. He seemed to understand just how important it was that Steve was here in the first place.
Sam stepped forward. From his side profile, you saw agony. His eyes were almost screwed shut, his arms almost reaching out to Rhodey to give comfort rather than ask for it. His gaze kept shifting from Rhodey’s braces to his face. Rhodey’s tightness softened, and he grabbed Sam’s arms, his strong hands firm. Sam muttered a long string of apologies and remorses, but Rhodey only shook his head at him.
“Don’t- Don’t say sorry, Sam,” Rhodey didn’t smile, but he spoke with kindness to Sam. Whatever there was between them seemed long gone. Rhodey must have been quick to forgive whatever Sam had thought he had done. This part Natasha had left out of her story, mostly keeping it on the events that happened after the big fight at that airport. You weren’t quite sure what to make of this interaction between the two.
It was Natasha who spoke up next, stepping forward.
“We’re not here just for us. We want to see him, but there is something bigger. He’ll want to know about it,” her tone was serious. She caught Rhodey’s gaze right away, his eyes assessing her body language while contemplating her words. He seemed to consider his options before he finally nodded, muttering how he was going to get his ass chewed out for this. He glanced at Bucky; his presence almost stopped Rhodey in his tracks, but he only paused for a moment. Bucky looked frozen in his spot, not even shifting with the wind that was whipping around. Rhodey’s expression didn’t change; he just shook his head and continued limping back to the door.
“Am I taking in the stray too?” He asked, holding the access door open, his head turned back to look directly at you. You felt like a deer in headlights, your feet planted in your spot at the back of the group. Everyone seemed to part so Rhodey’s direct line of eye contact wasn’t obstructed. Everyone looked at you as if just noticing you were back there.
Steve spoke up for you, looking back to Rhodey. “She’s ex-S.H.I.E.L.D, one of Fury’s best.”
You almost scoffed; whatever got you through that door instead of stranded on a rooftop. Rhodey gave Steve a nod, his eyes looking back to you.
“Glad to hear you’re not a Nazi,” Rhodey said, giving you an encouraging smile before turning back to the door, everyone filing after him.
You waited for a moment, taking in gulps of fresh air before you eventually followed, stepping down into the belly of the beast.
______________________
You were hiding away up a level from the others, in a space that felt like a shared living quarters for the Avengers, tucked into a corner of a cluster of chairs and tables. You could still hear the yelling, even with a layer of concrete in the way, but they weren’t really trying to be quiet. You tried curling yourself even deeper into the chair you were in; it felt more like a nest than a chair as the circular design seemed to cradle you.
What felt like a few minutes ago, Rhodey had brought the group into a side room that had a grand view into an expansive laboratory and engineering space. The walls of the room looked like some twist on retro wood panelling, mixed with modern lighting that made the space bright and airy. There was a large, long table, surrounded by office chairs and another seating space off to the side with comfier lounging pieces of furniture. There was a small kitchenette tucked into one wall, housing an assortment of coffee necessities and a few cupboards. You glanced around the space, peering through a wall of glass into the laboratory space beyond. You felt a spark of curiosity as you looked at the equipment inside, seeing parts strewn about on some tables along with some tools. Your head twisted to the sound of stomping steps, quickly approaching the group. Before you could really grasp the scene in front of you, you saw a punch fly and hit Bucky right in the jaw.
And he just took it. He didn’t move, just snapped his head from the momentum of the punch. His hands lay limp at his side, his arms not even twitching to retaliate. There was yelling and shouts, a mix of movement. You started moving to Bucky’s side on instinct, protectiveness surging through your veins. You stopped short, looking at the man that punched Barnes.
Holy shit, it's Tony Stark.
Your sneakers screeched to a stop, immediately standing straight and still as you saw the pure rage radiate off the man. His mouth was moving, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. Your ears were ringing as you took in everything. His t-shirt twisted as Rhodey put a hand on his chest to keep him back. His eyes were snapping between Bucky and Steve as he yelled, a pair of blue tinted glasses on his face. Rhodey continued to stand between them, continuing to keep Tony at bay from giving out any more physical lashes. Natasha was at Steve’s side, her mouth moving a mile a minute looking like she was trying to calm Tony. You slowly stepped back as you came back down to Earth, recovering from the shock of the man before you.
“-and better yet, you left me, to die, in SIBERIA!” Tony shouted, emphasis on each phrase as he stood on tippy toes, as if trying to shout his words over Rhodey. His nostrils flared and his eyes were wide with fury.
Steve’s face twisted in sorrow, watching his friend reel at him with his arms outstretched, trying to reason with him. Bucky stood motionless, his head held straight ahead. His gaze never left Tony, his eyes devoid of any good feeling. They were stormy, mixing in a whirl of emotions you couldn’t all name. He looked so tired, but he stood nonetheless, forcing himself to receive Tony’s anger.
Sam seemed to be taken back, standing behind everyone to not get in the way. He recognized that this fight was strictly between Steve, Bucky, and Tony, more than him. He was still wary as he watched, keeping to Bucky’s right. He seemed to be studying Bucky’s face before twisting toward Tony as he stuck a finger in his face, yelling about something to do with him and Rhodey.
That was the moment you basically ran away. You slid away, no one noticing your absence when you slipped up a staircase, finding a place to stay out of everyone and anyone’s way. This wasn’t your fight; you felt like an intruder more than anything. This wasn’t something meant to be seen by an outsider like you.
So you sat here for almost an hour, the yelling never really subsiding. You stared out the window in front of you, looking out at the campus like expanse of space. It wasn’t like the surroundings were ugly, you appreciated the architecture for what it was, but it just seemed so devoid of life. You couldn’t even spot squirrels running around in the grass or up trees. It would probably help if some of the flower beds were filled with color rather than the deep greens of shrubbery that probably thrived without much care. Surprisingly, nothing looked overgrown. You wondered what this place would look like with the place running like normal, or in its prime. Whatever normal was for this kind of operation.
Your thoughts were interrupted by soft steps, slowly making their way to the kitchen that was in this community space. You swiveled your chair around, watching a small man approach the kitchen, holding a coffee mug in his hand. Before you could hide yourself from him, he looked up, his expression shifting from neutral to soft surprise. He didn’t seem scared or worried about your presence, just curious. He had a pair of glasses resting on top of his head, looking like they were tangled in the curls of his dark hair.
He mumbled a greeting to you, and you quickly got up, feeling like you should probably explain yourself and your presence. He chuckled after you went through the whole spiel.
“I figured they were back, with all the yelling and uh, swearing,” He mumbled, looking stressed as he rinsed out his cup in the sink. You sunk into one of the white, modern bar stools that was facing the huge kitchen island, watching him as he bustled around.
“I’m Bruce, by the way. I uh, I can keep you company while they figure out… all that stuff,” he huffed another laugh, trying to disperse the awkwardness that hung in the air. He busied his hands, cleaning up the small bits of clutter sitting out and around the counter. You smiled faintly, feeling comfort seep back into your bones. Bruce’s nature had made it effortless for you to sink into a sense of familiarity. His presence felt safe even with all the awkwardness that seemed to follow him around.
“I can get you different clothes if you want,” he spoke, his eyes pointedly looking at your wrists where you were fidgeting with the cuff of your shirt. You felt like you should have been embarrassed, but Bruce’s nature and tone wasn’t teasing or witty. He was just honest and noticed the little things.
“That would be great, Bruce,” you responded, getting up out of your chair as he motioned for you to follow him. He twisted down a few hallways, keeping a slower pace, so you could take in the surroundings.
“Most of the Avengers stayed here for a time. Tony made sure there was space for anyone to stay if they wanted this to be their primary residence,” Bruce explained, pointing at doors that probably led to bedrooms. There were some personalized decals on some doors, sticky notes left behind on doors with small jokes. It had been a year since some of these rooms had been occupied.
Bruce continued to give you tour-like details as he led you to what seemed like a glorified storage room with lockers. You could tell which people occupied which lockers with the items left behind in them, seeing an empty quiver in one, and some type of red cape left in another. There were shelves of shared equipment on the back which Bruce walked back to. He dug through some bins on a shelf that housed bunches of clothes.
“Feel free to dig around more if these don’t fit you. Anything you need should be on these shelves. I’ll be back in the kitchen making some food if you’re hungry. Don’t worry about getting lost, F.R.I.D.A.Y. should help you out,” he gave you a shy smile, quietly exiting the room, the door clicking closed behind him.
You quickly slipped into the athleisure style clothes, feeling a breath of relief having them fit nicely. With a quick glance around, you left the room, wandering down the hall. As you walked around, your eyes spotted a piece of pink paper stuck to one of the bedroom doors. You stopped short at the door that was at the end of the hallway. It was the first room on the left, a small, crudely drawn shield with a star drawn on a sticky note that was slapped onto the door sometime ago. This must have been Steve’s room when he was living here. Well, you assumed he had lived here. You wondered about how he kept his room, if it was neat and retro. You wondered if he had a record player or a radio, maybe even a cd player for a touch of the modern age. Feeling like a creep, you quickly walked away, eventually finding your way back to the kitchen with Bruce.
His company was warm and inviting; you found yourself really enjoying the time he was spending with you. You asked for permission to walk around the paths outside which he responded with a small laugh. He understood where you were coming from, not wanting to overextend yourself to avoid upsetting Tony or anything. He joined you, the topic of conversation flowing from your degree, to topics about laboratory work. You were sure Bruce was dumbing down his words for you to understand, not using a seven PhD type of language with you.
The long walk outside with Bruce had made you feel melancholy. The paths reminded you of the small park near your Brooklyn apartment; the green grass and the benches were enough to spark that homesick feeling in you. As amazing as it was to learn from some of the best, you were yearning for your own bed. You were wondering if Maria had been covering for you while you were gone; you knew your girls were probably pissed at you for not showing up to the annual team dinner after the season finished.
Bruce must have noticed your change of mood, as he led you back inside. With a quick exchange, he left you in that community space he first found you in, explaining that his lab work needed tending to. You weren’t upset about his quick escape since you didn’t mind having some time to yourself. Plus, you had something else you needed to do.
You were determined to find some progress on the case with Dr. Achlys, and that required you to take action. You just needed to find someplace private, somewhere away from any prying super soldier ears.
After searching for a few minutes, stalking down hallways and committing things to memory as you learned the layouts, you found a staircase that went back up to the roof. It wasn’t the same roof access door Rhodey had met you guys at; you spotted the quinjet on the helipad that was a ways away from you on the west end of the roof. You had stepped out onto a slab of cement, a patio filled with a circle of cushioned chairs out in the sun greeted you. There was a closed up umbrella standing between some lounge chairs, a table with a vase filled with yellow daffodils sat just in front of it. The setup was cute, and looked like a dream for a lovely spring day with a little breeze, maybe a glass of lemonade. But you weren’t here for rest.
You walked over to the edge of the roof, leaning on the cement wall that acted as a railing. You looked out at the expanse of forest, wishing you were back at that peaceful farmhouse, rocking on the porch with a cup of coffee. Before you could yearn for anything else, you started to pray. Your mother hadn’t shown herself to you in a long time. She had left you to your own devices once you turned 18, not answering a single prayer even when you begged for her help. You twitched when you felt a memory come to the forefront of your mind, flames engulfing your line of sight, screams ringing in your ears as you shouted for your mother.
You squeezed your eyes tight, trying to reach out for her. You honestly didn’t even know if she heard you when you did this; she always seemed to come at the right time when you were younger. You felt anger rise in you like bile in the back of your throat. You let out a guttural roar, pounding your fists into the ledge you were leaning on.
You just needed a minute.
You never really took in the gravity of the situation, how your world got tipped two extra degrees and all your seasons of routines were thrown into imbalance. That homesick feeling from earlier was blocking all your senses, filling your lungs with that dreaded feeling, and it was no longer making you sad. You just felt anger.
All you wanted was some sort of familiar comfort like your bunk at Camp Half Blood in the Athena Cabin. You swear you could still smell the must of the cabin mixed with fresh book and smoke that drifted in the screen windows as the last embers of the campfire died away. You could see the dull beams of flashlights turning on under blankets as kids pulled out their books to read before drifting asleep.
All you wanted was to feel like you had a home again. You missed Percy and Annabeth, you missed the adventures, and the feeling of normalcy of being with the people you loved. You missed your dad…
You let the tears blur your vision, the distant view of New York City disappearing in the blur. As you let the tears fall, you felt the air shift. There was an electric charge that tingled your ears and the tips of your fingers, making them twitch. It was like the entire atmosphere changed, bonds of molecules breaking to form something new, something fierce. You smelt parchment and steel fresh from the forge.
“Mom?”
“It’s been a long time, daughter.”
You whirled around, and there she was. Not a thing changed with her appearance; she always presented herself to you this way. Her helmet on her head, her eyes alight in a blazing bright blue with a lightning strike of a scar running down the left side of her face. Her hair was barely contained under her helm, the curls cascading down her shoulders and back, but never obstructing her eyes. She had her spear and shield, wearing her godly toga that fell to her feet.
“Wanted to come watch me have a mental breakdown? I put on quite the show, but you missed a few other ones like when I almost fell three hundred feet down into the Potomac fighting actual Nazis or when I was fighting for my life in the streets of New York to protect your home-“
“You know why I’m here.” Athena interrupted, her voice firm, ignoring your angry rambling. You didn’t expect to be angry if you got her attention, but the tears spilling down your cheeks were not for her but rather because of what she did not do. That had made you grumpy.
“Actually, I DON’T mom. I don’t know why you’re here after almost ten years of nothing from you. I have no idea what you could possibly want now, because I know you aren’t here for me. You never come even when I practically beg you on my hands and knees to show yourself to me. You seem to love ignoring me even if it’s me screaming in agony” you steamed, letting your anger out, unleashed and catastrophic. Your mother could take it, she had seen worse from you. Sometimes you swear you were maybe Ares' kid with the temper that roared out of you.
Athena didn’t reply but slowly stepped to your side, letting your words hang in the air for a moment.
“Something is coming.”
You whipped your head toward her, staring at the gleaming golden helm, her eyes staring straight out into the expanse before her. It felt like your stomach dropped out of your abdomen, not expecting her to even realize the situation at hand.
Before you could say any sort of response, Athena continued.
“I know what you’ll say. You needn’t spare me; if you must yell, then you must. All I ask is a listening ear before you release it; I wanted to tell you all I knew before you heard the words in full from the oracle.”
Her words washed over you like ice water. Whatever Dr. Achlys was after, it was something big enough that will spew another prophecy. You weren’t even sure how she knew there would be a prophecy. You could only hope and pray it wouldn’t wipe out the rest of the demigods that have survived the onslaught so far, despite what’s going to happen was already set in stone. There was enough demigod blood soaked into the hills of Camp Half Blood and more battle sites across the nation. There was enough staining your hands, your mind, and your soul. You were drowning in their blood.
Your expression must have been enough for your mother to press on.
“You already met this woman, Dr. Achlys,” Athena sneered her name, almost like a hiss. “She strives to remove the barrier between mortals and gods. She wants to destroy The Mist. That is all I know, but it’s a head start that could give you the edge you need.”
Your mind spun. So many questions that you know won’t be answered, even with slim context that would be provided by the Oracle. You knew your mother wouldn’t answer anything, even if she did know how The Mist could be destroyed. You didn’t even know it was a physical thing that held matter.
“That’s not a lot to go off of.”
Athena hummed. “It never is, but I have a feeling you’ve already found a pattern. That’s a start.”
While your mind and eyes drifted from your mother, you couldn’t help but snort.
“So you have been watching me.”
Athena responded immediately, “Always. You’ve never strayed from my mind, daughter. Never once.”
Your heart panged. Most demigods didn’t get attached to their godly parent. They weren’t worth getting attached to, but Athena always managed to show up when you needed a parental figure. Especially after your dad passed. You couldn’t help but cling to the mother you’d never have, despite all her failings and all the times you almost died with no goddess mother to save you. Just the offspring of her fellow gods to save you with broken bones and unhealable wounds. So was the life of the demigod.
Athena was watching you intensely. She watched the lines furrow in your brow and the flames in your eyes. She too often wondered if she somehow passed on some of her brother’s traits that craved war.
“I do not come empty handed, daughter. I have a gift for you.”
She had never given you anything before. Only words, not always empty ones at least, you’d give her that much. You peered up at your goddess mother, wondering what schemes were brewing in her mind. She never did anything without a reason; she knew you’d need whatever she had brought for you.
“I’m assuming you heard the tale of the King of Ithaca, Odysseus.”
You couldn’t help but release a chuckle. Your shoulders relaxed. This part of your mother was one you were comfortable with; the empathetic side of Athena was rare, but she was there. She told you stories when you were young and fearful, unsure of what being a demigod meant. She told you about Odysseus many times, and his tale helped you overcome insurmountable grief.
“Of course, mom. How could I ever forget him?”
Athena graced you with a smile. You felt her hand rest on your shoulder. As much as you’d like to be the demigod that threw a middle finger back at their godly parent, you still chased her approval and love. You wanted to be her hero, her Odysseus, her Telemachus.
“Well, he went through many trials, just as you have. He had my help along the way, but I was still learning then and I made mistakes that often cost him. I won’t make that mistake with you. I will help you where I can. I won’t fail you, daughter.”
Athena reached for her belt, and pulled a sword from the sheath on her side. A beautiful, golden sword emerged. The sword was huge, the flat of it wide and rippled. The hilt was simple leather but strong. She laid it in her palms and outstretched it to you.
You gasped as the shape of it registered in your brain.
You were breathless, “Mom..I can’t..”
Athena’s hands cradled your face, the sword magically returning to its sheath, the belt that was around her hips now suddenly hung on yours. Your eyes snapped to hers, watching their blue light fade to see her irises and lashes. They were still a striking gray but no longer glowing radiantly as they usually were when she appeared. You stared into the smokey clouds that were her eyes and searched for the centuries and millenniums where she had simply been. You searched for Odysseus, the Trojan War, and Telemachus. You searched for strength and wisdom that you knew was floating around in your brain being her offspring, but somehow it always felt a light year away.
Athena’s voice was firm, but full of pride and something else you couldn’t name.
“You can. You are mine, and you can.”
You pressed your forehead against the cold metal of her helmet. You felt hot tears slip onto her fingers that were still gently holding your face, the feel of them incredibly soft. You knew she hid those calluses that were on her skin, being a woman of battle and war.
“There is one more thing I shall give you.”
You glanced back at your mother. Her hands lowered to her side, her shield and spear magically back in her grasp. Her voice went from motherly and kind to the general you knew her to be. This was your moment to ask, hoping she would grant you your request.
“I need you to protect their minds. The Avengers-”
“It is done,” Athena responded, knocking the end of her spear into the ground. You felt the wave of energy that released from her action, billowing across your face and out into the forest. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked back at her, awaiting more confirmation from her.
“I’ve put a hedge of protection around everyone’s mind in this facility. They’ve been granted eyes that can now see through the mists’ manipulations, so you needn’t fear their sanity when revealing your true identity,” she spoke truly and firmly, those grey eyes staring into yours.
Athena’s eyes blazed that bright blue once again, no longer allowing her beautiful eyes to be visible.
“They cannot be left in the dark any longer. It is time. It’s time we listened to Percy Jackson and stop the spray of demigod blood in the name of protecting us. This is no longer just a task for your world, our demigods. It puts mortals in jeopardy-“
“And without mortals, you all die.”
Athena’s mouth was set in a grim line. The gods needed the mortal world, and whatever Dr. Achlys was up to put every mortal in jeopardy. Without mortals, the spirit of Western Civilization is lost, making the gods incredibly weak, subjecting everything to chaos.
After a beat, you broke the silence.
“So you’ll protect their minds? You won’t let them go insane?”
Athena gave a curt nod. You sighed, feeling anxiety boil in your abdomen. You were not ready to have this talk with all of them, not after they just had an hour of screaming with each other. After a few moments you took a deep breath in and looked up.
“Okay. I’ll tell them.”
“Good. I’ll find you when you need me. Be strong, be wise.”
With a flash, she was gone. The air returned to normal, that electric charge diminishing away. You looked out to the horizon, spotting an owl in flight above the treeline, diving down into the green of conifers and maples. Despite the feeling of having to reveal your true self to everyone, to Steve, you were content with progress. Even knowing that this threat was known by the gods, which was terrifying in itself, you felt like you were heading in the right direction. It would make explaining everything easier to them, and for them to understand just how imperative this mission just became.
After a short pep talk, you headed back into the building, taking your time down the stairs and weaving through rooms. You heard talking, but it was far more calm than it had been. The air wasn’t filled with rage and sorrow anymore, as you followed the voices, coming closer to where everybody must be. You stilled for a moment, listening to the group speak.
“We would have left if you asked us to,” You heard Steve’s voice through the wall, his words exhausted from the verbal battle they all just went through. He was tired, but his words still held their weight.
“I actually remember telling you very distinctly to get the hell out right when you got here, but in true Steve Rogers’ fashion, you pushed anyway until I gave in,” Tony bit back, the bitterness not really there. He tried to make it hurt, but even he could tell that it lacked any real sharpness.
“I couldn’t give up on you, Tony. I needed you to know how sorry I was,” Steve sounded choked, his words sitting in the air, making anyone in the vicinity feel like they wanted to throw up from the heartbreak in his voice.
“I know big guy, I know,” Tony whispered, clearing his throat. Even he hesitated with how broken Steve sounded.
“I know you, Steve. Even when you think I’m being the same ol’ egotistical Stark, I knew you enough that you’d come back eventually which is why I didn’t throw your things out and stuff an elliptical in your room for my home gym,” Tony’s words had enough humor in them to make Steve huff.
You let them have their moments, listening to their words as they spoke quietly to each other. You wished you had the strength to stay in the room when they were having their huge fight, wondering how they talked through everything.
You peeked through the doorway, spotting Steve, Tony, and everyone sitting around on couches, the mental fatigue obvious in the way some slumped in their arm chairs and couches. They were mumbling softly about things you didn’t understand as you stepped out of the hallway and into the room. Tony twisted in his seat, his analyzing eyes grazing over you.
“Did you break this one out of watergate too or do you like taking in Fury’s old flying monkeys,” Tony pointed his words at Steve, still looking you over as you carefully stepped into the room. You felt like he was analyzing you like a threat, wondering which parts of you would break easiest if you decided to pick a fight. Steve was leaning forward on his arms that rested on his knees, his hands folded together loosely.
“Tony,” he said, almost like a recall for a guard dog. It was gentle, but he was trying to reel the man in from scaring you off. You could handle quips like this; you responded better to humor even if it felt like it was laced with passive aggressiveness. It was more comfortable than forced civility.
“Have you guys finished duking it out? Or should I come back,” you responded, looking to Steve to give you an answer. Before he could even open his mouth, Tony was already running his mouth.
“Yeah we finished duking it out, Tomb Raider. Actually no, you’re a knock off Laura Croft, I’ll come up with something better later,” Tony seemed to ramble, quickly snatching the glasses he had off his face. He folded them up and slipped them into the pocket of a casual suit jacket that he had put on at some point. He leaned back on the couch, an arm lazily draped over the back of it.
“I’ve come up with something close to forgiveness for Bonnie and Clyde here, but I hear you have some sort of business for us,” Tony responded, gesturing for you to take the empty chair in front of you. You couldn’t help the genuine laugh that erupted from you, finally feeling like you were in your element with Tony. The quips, the references, it all felt like home. Tony didn’t seem put off by your laughter, but almost impressed. Rhodey suppressed a groan as he realized just what kind of beast you were as you interacted with Tony and took your seat.
After a moment, you found the courage to attack this conversation, finding it easier with Tony breaking whatever ice there was between you two. You looked around the room, finding everyone’s eyes on you, even Bruce’s, your eyes finding each other where he sat near Tony and Rhodey. You found yourself locking eyes with Steve, and you felt yourself returning a smile to the encouraging grin he plastered on. He gave you a small nod, further urging you to brief everyone on the subject. You worried that he wouldn’t forgive you for this one, but once he knew, you’d hoped he would understand why you could only give him half truths. Trusting them with all this information should be more than enough to prove your worth once he understood.
Before even attempting to relay all the information on Dr. Achlys to Tony, Bruce, and Rhodey, you figured you would start with the hard stuff.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you guys,” you ignored the twist of your gut when you saw that little switch in Steve’s face. The grin was gone, and the cold returned to his gaze. He was waiting for you to drop a bomb, which you were about to, but you knew it was one he couldn’t fault you for once he had all the details. It still didn’t stop your mind from whirling when you saw him shift to that calculated gaze of the captain.
“I’m not a mutant like you thought I was,” Everyone seemed to hold their breath as you spoke, everyone’s spines straightening as they prepared for your news. You couldn’t bear to look at Natasha, not knowing what look she was giving you if she assumed you had been lying to her this whole time.
“I’m a demigod, a daughter of the Greek goddess, Athena.”
Notes:
let the madness begin hehehe
Chapter 7: Death to Bearded Steve Rogers
Notes:
hi
i'm so sorry for the late chapter. Life got busy and I didn't want to rush and give you something I wasn't proud of. I made it extra long for you guys <3
Also, some notes. Steve gets a haircut and it is Captain America The Winter Soldier haircut cause it's MY fic and that's my FAVORITE steve hair. I will take no critiques.
EDIT: changed the chapter title cause I hated it
I wanted to say something else but I forgot so enjoy this chapter! Love yall
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Alright, Alright. Run it by me again, just slower so I can handle this overwhelming feeling of dread and apocalyptic hopelessness,” Tony rubbed his hands over his face as he paced around the room, his words losing their volume, dying off into a series of mumbles.
When you revealed your true identity as a half blood, the whole room erupted into questions and conversations. Tony looked about ready to crawl out of his skin when he kept asking more and more probing questions about the gods and interference with regular mortal life. The blood seemed drained from his face, his eyes looking elsewhere as if he was getting lost in another time. You had to spend ten whole minutes convincing Rhodey not to contact any of his superiors, emphasizing the importance of keeping this world secret for demigod safety and for the mortal minds that would get exposed. That was a whole other tangent of conversation, having to explain the whole “mortal minds can’t know about this or they will literally go insane you guys just got special protection from Athena herself”.
You tried to answer everyone’s questions as quickly as possible, trying to be thoughtful with your words as you exposed them to intense information. You were shaking the whole time, the fear of them losing their minds had an iron grip on your own. You tried to think logically through the anxiety; you literally had your mother’s word that she had protected them from insanity. You just couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling of dread.
You kept looking at Steve throughout the onslaught of words and questions being thrown around the room. That cold gaze he had on his face was gone, and you felt some sort of relief just seeing that expression disperse from him. His concern was apparent, his eyebrows furrowed, his hand scratching at his beard every few moments. You felt your stomach constrict everytime his eyes found yours. He hadn’t said much since you told the truth, but you could feel his eyes on you when you were turned away from him, looking at the others.
“Tony, you shouldn’t be worried about the gods. They can’t really interfere with mortals. That’s why they have us; we protected mortals in the Battle of Manhattan while the gods fought the real big guys,” you smiled, feeling like it looked more pained and lopsided rather than the comforting gaze you were going for. Tony’s pacing abruptly stopped, his whole body going stiff. He turned to you with a completely straight face, the intensity in his eyes making you nervous. Everyone in the room seemed to quiet, eyes turning to you. The only person who didn’t really seem so shocked by what you said was Bucky. He glanced around the room in confusion.
“You’re telling me that Zeus and Ares or whoever was manipulating things in the Battle of New York?” Tony whispered, his words sharp and piercing. He sounded accusatory; you knew it wasn’t toward you, but since you were the messenger to expose them all to this world, you’d taken responsibility for representing these stories. Awful stories of gods who refused to help when they should have, who didn’t really seem to care when they should have. Only when it was their asses on the line.
Beyond Tony’s accusatory statement, you were slowly realizing you’d have to catch them up to speed on everything. Before you came into this room, you had wondered if The Mist would release them from all of the manipulations it placed on their minds, previous and present ones. You had thought that maybe they would suddenly understand that the big storm and earthquake that happened so long ago was not actually a freak of nature, but the Titans invading Manhattan.
“No, not that battle. There was another one,” You felt the stress of reliving these memories squeeze your brain. You did your best to tell them about that battle, what you guys, a bunch of half bloods, a bunch of kids really, had to sacrifice to keep mortals and the gods’ powers safe. The pounding in your head and throat made you feel like it was going to explode from the pressure. You remembered the fear, the screams, all the dead demigods that littered that bridge. What haunted you more was returning to Camp Half Blood with half the numbers, the Apollo cabin almost empty. It gripped your chest, making you feel like you were choking on air. Your hands gripped the arms of the chair you were sitting in.
When you looked up, the details dying away on your tongue as you concluded the story, you saw everyone looking at you with horror stricken faces. You had come to expect pity, but it was just pure understanding, anger, and despair. These people weren’t strangers to tragedy, and their body language and faces showed that. You noticed Bruce pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand cradling the side of his face. Seeing him look so small and fragile was enough incentive to shut your mouth, your teeth almost clacking together. The room had stilled; you only heard their heart beats, their breaths, and some humming coming from the workshop behind the glass panels.
“So your parents essentially just let you fight their battle, letting a bunch of teens get slaughtered to protect Olympus?” Bucky’s words cut through the air, the gravel of his voice rumbled through the memories replaying in your head. You shrugged; he basically got the gist of the whole story. The pressure in your head released, leaving you exhausted. You had a deep desire to just curl up into a ball and sleep. Barnes sighed in response, his metal hand curling into a fist that rested on his thigh. His eyes looked down to his lap, his jaw clenching.
“Even with Dr. Achlys being a direct threat to demigods, they still won’t do anything about it?” Natasha spoke up, her arms folded over her chest, her legs folded underneath her on the comfy looking couch to your right. Again, she had that look on her face that was all business, not a hint of emotion behind her eyes that wrinkled her forehead, or dimpled her cheeks.
“It gets a bit more complicated than that,” you groaned, going on to explain the weird rules the gods had to abide by. There were ancient rules that prohibited gods from taking on quests that their demigod children took care of, the rules mostly protecting mortals. Since Dr. Achlys was a mortal, the gods couldn’t really do anything to stop her. Even if gods could just solve quests and vaporize mythical monsters instantly, their children had to be the ones to struggle and die to complete and fight them. Prophecies and Fate also kept the gods at bay, as not one god can alter what has been foretold. Demigods were considered the gods agents of the mortal plane, going into other gods’ territories and interacting with humans. Demigods were members of the gods' armies, carrying out their judgement and will.
The Battle of Manhattan wasn’t just demigods you further explained. Percy Jackson had convinced Poseidon to help them, waging war down in his ocean domain. Meanwhile, the gods were fighting Typhon, one of the most difficult and powerful foes the gods have faced. He was a child of Gaea, having erupted out of Mount Saint Helens and stalking across the nation to Olympus, which explained the rest of the events that happened outside of New York. It was up to the demigods to keep the titans and monsters from destroying Olympus that had already invaded Manhattan.
“So you are going to be the only demigod fighting this lady who wants to destroy this mist thing that's protecting all the mortals from going insane,” Rhodey spoke up, his tone completely exasperated. It was a lot to learn and you were grateful that everyone was being as open minded as they were. You progressively felt more sluggish as you continued these long and grueling conversations. You wanted to give them every piece of information they wanted to get familiar with this new world, but you were losing steam.
“I’m going to try to be, I can’t promise that some of my friends won’t want to get involved. I don’t want to bring a bunch of demigods right to her doorstep when that’s exactly what she’s after,” you muttered, your arms wrapped around your torso as you kept speaking.
“So… The Mist,” Sam spoke up. He was leaning forward in his chair, his hands out in front of him, flitting about as he talked to you.
“It basically skews our vision, protecting our minds from the mental toll of seeing some monster like Medusa or something,” His eyebrows were furrowed, confusion etched onto his face. You nodded along, Sam continuing to talk out his understanding. The Mist was confusing, and most demigods didn’t really understand its inner workings to the fullest extent.
“So because we know everything now, The Mist won’t manipulate things anymore?” Sam concluded, looking to you for correction. When you told him he was spot on, giving him an encouraging nod, he pointed at you.
“Is that why all of a sudden you’ve got a sword on you?” His eyes looked down at the belt that held your scabbard. You perked up, your hand finding the hilt of the sword. You were used to The Mist hiding your weapons for you, so it hadn't really crossed your mind. Now that Sam noticed, you almost felt self conscious about it being there.
“You guys didn’t see this when I came in?” You asked, looking around at everyone. Everybody shook their heads, murmuring a chorus of no’s. You unsheathed the broad sword, the gold glinting in the lighting of the room. You hadn’t been armed since that day back in Alaska, and it felt strange to be holding a sword in front of these people. You could almost see your reflection in the shine of the blade. The color of the blade reminded you of the gleam of celestial bronze, but the metal itself looked more golden than the usual brassy copper.
“Does Fury know about all this?” Steve asked, the question making your head snap up from the sword resting in your palms. It felt like it came entirely out of left field, your demeanor almost becoming defensive from the last conversation you two had about the man. You stared at him for a second, trying to see if he really was accusing you of something, but you couldn’t tell. Steve’s expression just looked empty.
“No, he has no idea. If he had clear sight through The Mist, then he would have known what I was right when I walked in the doors for my interview,” You responded, watching as Steve’s shoulders slumped after he considered your answer. He looked down at his lap, avoiding your piercing gaze.
You didn’t notice Tony and Rhodey amusedly observing you and Steve. Tony filed away the information, watching both of you play the game of averting glances and yearning eyes. He snorted and smirked, leaning against the back of the couch Rhodey was sitting on, addressing the group.
“Well, spy kids here really ruined my opportunity to kick you guys out with her whole sob story,” Tony’s hands fidgeted, pulling a screwdriver from his pocket. You couldn’t help the snort that escaped you, feeling more normal with Tony’s dry humor. You heard Steve’s sharp inhale, but you saw Bucky’s hand fly out to grab his shoulder. They seemed to share a look, one that kept Steve’s mouth shut with an almost murderous glance from his best friend. It was a look that Steve seemed to be used to.
“Thank you,” you glanced around the room, looking at each individual that sat around you. “For listening to everything. I know I just dumped a century’s worth of information on you, but we’re saving a lot of half blood lives this way,” You felt like you could finally breathe again, the finality of the conversation making the air feel less thick. Steve spoke up, your tired eyes meeting his that seemed lit with something you didn’t have the energy to place.
Steve’s voice was like an arrow, aimed straight and true to you, his gaze unwavering. That arrow struck you as he spoke, a warm fuzzy feeling engulfing your abdomen from the care that flowed from his words..
“You’ve done more than enough. We’ll get everything set up here, so go get some rest. We’ll meet back upstairs for dinner,” he rose to his feet, acting as a dismissal for the group.
“I don’t wanna press my luck with insanity, so I’m gonna go bang my head against a wall in the workshop. Toodles,” Tony escaped the room with a tight smile, quickly entering into the giant space behind the glass walls, lights turning on as he walked through. You watched the glass walls dim, tinting the panes to give Tony a small barrier of privacy as he began to work.
With that, everyone dispersed. Rhodey and Bruce followed Tony’s lead, ducking into the workshop. Bruce had given you a smile and a nod before he switched gears, turning into the space where Tony seemed to immediately start spewing complicated jargon at the man.
Even after spilling your guts, that divide was still there. You felt that separation as people began to disperse, leaving you alone in your chair. You thought telling everyone, while extremely necessary for the sake of literally saving the world, would help build a bridge between you and this group. You were craving the connection you had with your old teams like a certain ragtag group of demigods or a couple of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. However, it still felt like you were on an island of your own, simply existing around this complex superhero family.
Your gaze shifted up, tensing once you saw Natasha coming straight for you, purpose set in her shoulders. You didn’t know what to expect, but the crushing hug she gave you caught you by complete surprise. She must have sensed your loneliness; she had a strange intuition for things like this which you noticed back in the farmhouse when she kept Bucky company. Your arms acted on their own accord, immediately wrapping around her back. It felt like a transfer of strength that you didn’t fully realize how much you needed.
You missed your friends, the strong arms that would wrap around you in pure love, but this was enough. It would be enough to keep you going, for there were far bigger things at stake. You could carry on, to keep demigods safe, to keep Annabeth, Percy, Nico, all your friends at Camp Half Blood safe. Small actions like this were enough to keep the isolation away. The world didn’t seem so dark and lonely after Natasha’s arms slipped away, her hands grasping your forearms. Her smile was pure, her lips upturned and her eyes sparkling once again.
“Come on, let’s go for a walk,” She murmured, her voice like a blanket, draping over you for a sense of calm. Her hand slipped into your palm, her fingers interlocking with yours. The smile on your face came easy as she gently pulled you along. Lost in the comfort of Natasha, you missed the blue eyes staring after you.
______________
Your face slammed into the slick canvas mat, the breath gone from your chest once your body dropped onto the floor. It felt like your teeth rattled, a coughing groan hurtling out of you. You got to your feet, seeing Natasha’s sweaty grin looking back at you. You huffed, a matching smile spreading across your face.
Natasha had been working you hard, down to the bone for almost an hour now. She had taken you on her own version of a tour of the compound earlier, showing you some of her favorite spots. The place had already grown livelier as everyone started filling the space; you saw Steve’s shield resting on top of the kitchen counter, and one of Sam’s bags half haphazardly tossed onto a nearby couch. As you guys walked around, you could hear voices filling the halls, echoing up into the rafters of the high ceiling spaces. You felt like Natasha was getting color back in her cheeks, undoubtedly noting the change of her home like you had.
Once she seemed to have shown you every square inch of the main building, she ended her tour in a small gym space (there were actually thirteen gyms in this building alone). With a daring look, she played off the beginning of a sparring match with the facade of “testing your skills” and “knowing where you were at”, but you saw it for what it was. She was helping you release whatever pent up anger, resentment, or whatever other emotions she saw in you. It felt like she understood you more than you did yourself. As she kept beating you to a pulp, you had realized that this was what you needed. You had been too sedentary these past few weeks, and getting your ass handed to you felt better than expected.
You sized Natasha up once you were back on your feet, watching her movements in preparation for an onslaught of not so pulled punches. You were more durable than the average human, but it still hurt when you felt all her strength behind a punch to the kidney. Natasha cocked her head toward you, her eyes looking down at the sword that was now leaning against a wall behind you.
“So, was The Mist hiding that thing the whole time?” That small smirk returned to her face, her fists loosely held up in front of her.
“No… no I just got it,” you saw the small quirk of Natasha’s brow. “When you guys were having your talk, I had my own talk with my mom,” you were waiting for the surprise, the confusion, or suspicion. Natasha didn’t look at you with any of those feelings emanating from her. She simply waited for you to continue, giving you space to talk and give details if you wanted.
“It’s something different this time. I mean… godly parents can give their demigods kids items or tools to help them in their quests. This time it feels different; she gave me Odysseus’ sword, and something that powerful feels like an omen for something a lot bigger looking for a fight,” Natasha stiffened ever so slightly, her eyebrows shooting up, hiding underneath the tangle of sweaty fly aways stuck to her forehead.
“The Odysseus? Like the main guy from the Odyssey? Stuck on some adventure for twenty years?” She murmured in disbelief, her eyes looking between you and the sword. You nodded sheepishly, feeling the power radiating off the weapon behind you. You hadn’t really let yourself think about it, but you felt a charge from the sword when you had it in your palms. It felt like electricity transferred into your fingertips, travelling down your hands and into your arms like icy tendrils. You’d still rather avoid confronting whatever that was, so you didn’t bring it up to Natasha.
However, Natasha had a different plan instead of avoiding problems. She motioned for you to go and grab it, sauntering away to a distant corner of the gym. You unsheathed your sword, a small ringing filling your ears as the metal gleamed in front of you. The blade was wide, wider than any sword you had used and practiced with at Camp Half Blood. It was heavy in your hands, but a weight that you could use to your advantage for powerful swings.
You walked back to Natasha, observing her as she fiddled with the straps of a large shield wrapped around her forearm, a practice replica of Steve’s. The shield was filled with minor dents and scrapes, looking like it had seen better days. She had a blade in the other hand, an amused smile on her face.
“Feels a bit primal, but it’s good to keep your animalistic side fresh,” She said, getting herself ready for your attack. She was the epitome of calm, her body prepared but not tense. You felt a sense of uncertainty.
“You really want to fight with real blades?” You asked, unsure as you planted your feet, and wrapped both your hands around the hilt. Natasha tilted her head, that glint in her eye sparkling as she smirked.
“You worried?” she spoke, her voice deep in her register as her eyes sized you up for dramatic effect. The competitiveness she had wasn’t casual; it ran deep in her veins, a powerful force that made her look ravenous. She was about to chew you up and spit you out. It lit a fire in you where you clawed and lashed out of the shell you kept yourself in around these people, wanting to perform and show your best. Natasha wanted to see the raw, most purest version of you, and fighting seemed like her way of exposing that side.
“Not at all,” you muttered, using unyielding power to wind up your swing, the muscles in your arms and back contracting with the arc of your sword. The sound of your sword clanging against her shield rang in your ears, the reverberation from the clash running up your arms. That power you felt when you held the sword was making your whole body buzz. It felt like you were seeing colors you never had before, the cone cells in your eyes reforming to make you see a new world in Natasha’s violent whirlwind.
The movements became so fast, it was dizzying. Everything was a blur, but you could see through the haze, spotting the gleaming point of Natasha’s dagger every time before it could find its mark. Sweat was flicking off of you both from every swing and dodge, every lunge and reach. Natasha hadn’t missed a beat, always one step ahead of you, and you had only managed to stave off every attack. You didn’t have any openings, and when you parried and maneuvered to prepare and set up for your own attack, Natasha shut down every plan you had.
You didn’t think you’d be able to beat her, but the competitiveness was enough to make you crave a victory. You swear you heard Natasha laughing as she ditched the shield, using her small body as a tool, momentum swinging you out of your stable stance. Instead of the usual sword fighting you were used to, she added in elements of her own style of violence. She grabbed your arm, using that as her anchor as she swung herself around you, her legs finding purchase up on your shoulders.
Your sword wasn’t much use with her on your head, the flat of her dagger pressed against your neck, signifying your loss. You wanted to keep fighting, your mind reeling for solutions and strategies, but exhaustion was overwhelming. The strange haze of colors you were seeing had faded, leaving you almost feeling empty. You groaned and fell to your knees, Natasha casually tumbling off your shoulders. She let herself sprawl across the floor, her limbs outstretched like a starfish. Both of your chests heaved, wiping sweat out of your eyes as it dripped off your foreheads. You noticed her eyes drifting to the doorway that was behind you, her smile never fading.
“She’s good, like you said she’d be,” Natasha spoke to the figure behind you, her confident and blinding smile turning into something softer. You turned, feeling heat crawl up your throat, whatever patch of skin wasn’t already tomato red began to pink. You weren’t embarrassed so to speak, just a bit surprised that Steve had been watching the whole time, observing your movements. You weren’t prepared for a test like this.. You watched Steve enter into the room, Natasha’s words an invitation.
Steve looked entirely different from when he first walked into this compound. A few short hours ago, uncertainty and sorrow had followed him like a shadow, his face cemented in a deep frown. Despite his gentle nature that you had been on the receiving end of, he was a man of darkness, a man who hadn’t had the sun shine on him in a long while. Yet, his presence had brought in a breeze. The air became lighter, and the sun seemed to follow him, rays of sun spilling through the windows that lined the wall of the space with a view out to the manicured, sprawling fields.
You perked up as your eyes drifted to his face. His beard was gone, and his hair had been trimmed, by who, you had no idea. He looked like a military man once again, no longer the rogue avenger who had no place to call home, jumping from safe house to safe house. It was nice to see him so alive. You lamented that his hair would no longer fall into his face, the long pieces falling from his head. Hiis clean shaven jaw was no longer constantly clenched. He looked almost at ease, and the smile on his face was easy, a type of smile you hadn’t ever really seen before.
“I told you,” Steve said, a comfortable and teasing tone in his voice. His arms were loosely folded across his chest, and his gaze met yours, his light words matching the glint in his eyes. He had changed since you last saw him, the dark and brooding outfit gone. It was replaced with a dark pair of canvas pants, a light colored t-shirt underneath a brown leather jacket. He seemed more like himself in this outfit, the fabrics moved with him as he approached rather than suctioned to every dip and curve of his shape.
He stepped over to you two, dropping into a squat with his eyes on your sword. His eyes raked over it, admiring it or analyzing, you weren’t sure. You watched him while he practically sat there in the easy silence.
“Our girl here says this is the real sword of Odysseus,” Natasha spoke to Steve, giving you a sly smile. Steve’s eyebrows shot up for a moment, his eyes widening. His fingers reached out, brushing the pommel of the sword. He twitched; if you hadn’t been laser focused on him, you wouldn’t have noticed it. The moment his fingers touched the metal, they jerked away. You watched him, wondering if he felt that energy like you did when you had that sword in your hands.
“Do all demigods sit on ancient Greek artifacts like this?” Steve asked. It looked like he had to rip his gaze away from the sword, his eyes eventually looking over to you.
“Some- not all. There’s a girl I know who has Helen of Troy’s dagger, but this-” you grabbed the hilt of your sword, bringing it into your lap to look at the blurry reflection of yourself. “This was a special gift from my mom.”
Steve seemed to understand the weight of your words. He no longer looked at you with that worry which seemed to always be lingering in his mind. He looked thoughtful, his smile small, but not small in the emotions he was conveying to you. You didn’t feel the usual anxiety about how you looked to these people; you felt like proving yourself to them, to Steve, was coming easier than expected. You were also relieved that he didn’t ask how Athena got this sword to you after admitting you just got this gift.
“You okay?” The question was so soft, and so unexpected. You felt exposed it, your eyes stuck on Steve’s as you determined how to answer. You could feel a shift after he seemed to set his and Tony’s relationship back on the right path. It wasn’t fixed; time would heal some of the holes now that Steve had come back and given Tony what he needed. After Steve was certain he had laid the foundation of rebuilding his relationship with the man, he became less paranoid. Not completely, the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. would never make him free of paranoia, but he ripped himself out of that “rogue avenger” mindset. He seemed like his focus was no longer pulled in multiple directions, and he seemed better equipped to juggle where and what needed his attention.
So, when he asked you this, it wasn’t the same care and gentleness he had with you before. It was something much more tender, and it had caught you off guard. Steve deserved your bare naked honesty, so you made the choice.
“I’ll be okay, Steve. This-” you pointed your head to the sword in your hand, “This is my sign that I can make real change, and that’s all I really want. I can handle the burdens that come with that,” you spoke, feeling your words sink into your gut, taking root in your abdomen. Steve’s gaze was intense, not angry or upset, but there was a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before.
“Can we keep her?” Natasha’s voice broke through that tension between you and Steve, breaking down the crescendo of feelings that were being told between you two. Steve’s blinding smile erupted on his face, a hearty laugh escaping him. You smiled brightly, looking at Natasha in wonder. It felt nice to be wanted like this again.
___________________
You were kind of a hypocrite.
You finally felt like you were standing on solid ground, not having to change with the shifting sands under your feet. You had left that gym with a budding sense of belonging and purpose.
All that had gone out the window when Tony showed you to your new room, watching your eyes widen as you looked at the suitcases stacked in a corner, a bag or two filled with items. The man, seemingly out of pure kindness, somehow got all of your things from your Brooklyn apartment and brought them here. All your clothes, important keepsakes, and items. That wasn’t the part that made you spiral.
It was seeing all your things from your home here, facing a physical reminder that your half blood life was beginning to bleed into your mortal one. You were a child of Athena; change was supposed to be easy to handle. Changing tactics wasn’t the issue, but it was mentally handling change that ripped you out of your comfort zone and slapped you into a completely different environment. You thought you would have gotten used to drastic change after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., but you were still young and scared of little things like this. You had given Tony a hug, forgoing any unwritten rules about not hugging a man you just met that is still upset with the people that brought you into his home. He was just as surprised as you were.
Like the psycho you were, the thing that grounded you in this situation was eavesdropping on Tony and Steve whispering in the hallway. Apparently, whoever had retrieved your things, reported back to Tony, saying your apartment had been entirely ransacked, almost completely torn apart. The moment you heard, you started digging through bags and suitcases; nothing had been missing from your things, not that you had anything interesting to nab anyways.
Since then, you had been trying to organize things in your new space, but it hadn’t been going well. Clothes were still strewn about the space, books in piles, and a pile of toiletries scattered the adjacent bathroom. Someone had also brought your own shield and spear back, the items resting on the bedspread. You were too busy thinking to actually do anything productive. In reality, you had just been picking things up and moving them around, not giving anything a proper place or home.
Bucky had been sent in to save you from your disaster. He strode in, uncertainty hanging around him. He nudged your shoulder with his metal one as he approached, grumbling something about dinner. His eyes raked around the room, nothing crossing his face as he looked at the explosions and piles of stuff laying around. He did notice the one thing you managed to take care of, spotting the shelf with your picture frames, a few knick knacks, and your camp half blood necklace.
“How long have you been in here?” He asked, his head slowly turning, his eyes glancing at you from his peripheral.
“Two hours-”
“And this is all you’ve done?” He quirked an eyebrow at you, and you couldn’t help but be defensive.
“I have a lot of stuff,” you grumbled, trying to shove his shoulder with yours, but he didn’t budge. His feet were planted solidly, and he watched amusedly at you while you bristled. He rolled his eyes, no contempt or real annoyance on his face. Just old man grumpiness.
“Go. Dinner is here,” he motioned for you to go out the doorway, not leaving his spot until you slowly made your way out. You liked Bucky’s presence from the little moments you got with him. You had a feeling he knew exactly why you hadn’t done shit with your stuff. The overwhelming feeling of change and fear was suffocating enough to make your lungs feel like collapsing. He happened to find you just sitting in your mess, only looking at you with understanding.
You were ready for the challenge, like you told Steve back in the gym. You were ready to fight an evil, formidable force that threatened life as you knew it. You also happened to hyperventilate when faced with a task that had the least amount of stakes. You just weren’t ready to be faced with all your things in a strange bedroom, in a place that wasn’t your cozy hole in Brooklyn. That apartment was close enough to Montauk to feel the comfort of Camp Half Blood, still maintaining some separation from your mortal looking life. It wasn’t something you thought about, so when it was thrown in your face, you just shut down.
You weren’t used to the running; even on quests that went across the country, you still had a home to come back to. That home was Camp Half Blood, and when you grew up, your Brooklyn apartment felt like a halfway house between your mortal facing life and your demigod one. So, it did somehow end up feeling like home as you grew used to it.
When you saw the pieces of that place here, in an unfamiliar room, with gray walls, and an AI voice asking if you needed anything, it was a bit too much. Bucky’s sudden presence was enough to pull you out of the physical and mental mess. Despite your bitter sounding back and forths, you were grateful for him. His quiet distance allowed your anxious storm to whirl around the space, roaring and lashing. His presence flexed with your needs; if he wasn’t anchoring you, pulling you back to Earth when your anxiety was about to rocket you to the moon, then he was the life preserver pulling you out when you got stuck.
Funny how vital he had become to you when he had barely spoken to you for the short time you’ve known one another.
So when Bucky told you to go, you went. The hallway you walked down was long, the spacing between each bedroom in the massive hallway was expansive. Tony thought of everything when building this space, privacy an important matter while keeping the team close. As you spent more time in the living areas, you noticed more and more personal detailings. Things that mattered to the people who lived here. You felt a goofy smile cross your face when you saw in the distance a framed and signed Captain America USO poster hanging on a wall.
There was a chorus of voices in the living quarters, a gaggle of people grouped in the kitchen. The smell of greasy pizza hit you like a freight train, your stomach groaning. You happily joined into the group, brushing shoulders with Natasha as you grabbed a plate and a few slices.
You didn’t really take in the murmurings of everyone, happily digging into your food without a care until Tony’s fingers snapped in your face.
“Hey, Gladiator, heads up,” he cocked his head to the right of him, pointing to a new guy you had in fact seen before. On TV. During the Battle of New York (the one with the aliens). The slice of pizza dropped from your mouth, your worry and shock in your eyes as you looked around, asking the mental question, did you tell him?
“Our resident Katniss Everdeen is fine, dear. He was lurking in the building when Athena did her magic brain surgery,” Tony stated, somehow having understood the panic in your face. You were still wide-eyed, staring at Hawkeye who just gave you a wave with a piece of pizza sticking out of his mouth.
“I’m a professional lurker, Tony. You can’t be mad at me for-”
“I’m not mad you were lurking, I’m mad you were lurking in my goddamn vents, and broke some million dollar security equipment, pal,” Tony spit out the last words, sticking to a theme of not real anger or spite. Just mild annoyance.
You didn’t have the energy to probe; no one had gone insane yet, so if he was really in the building, he should be fine you reasoned. You watched everyone interact, seeing the family dynamics apparent as people murmured to each other, weaving around bodies, and squeezing into chairs, shoulders brushing each other. Even Sam and Bucky found their place in this group, soft chuckles between them and Clint. You felt a sense of deja vu, feeling like you were looking into the past. The banter, the smiles, the easy silences as people ate. It felt painfully familiar which reminded you of something.
“I need to go to Montauk,” you spoke aloud, breaking the easy silence with your suddenness.
“What’s in Montauk?” a few people asked at once, words being spoken behind full mouths. You looked around, reveling in the feeling of Natasha’s shoulder faintly leaning into yours. Nobody looked confused or irritated; they seemed to trust your instincts and plans.
“Remember what I said about prophecy?” you asked, looking at all the faces around you. Everyone seemed to nod and understand; even Clint didn’t look lost, either having eavesdropped from some ventilation system, or someone just explained the best they could to him.
“Well, when I talked to my mom, she said a prophecy was coming. Prophecies predict major events, mostly in a cryptic poetic fashion, but it is a prediction. It’s just up to the receiver to translate it, and it can’t be told to others or it will change,” You explained to the group, suddenly the pizza had been forgotten by everyone. The air was still, your words being absorbed; you swore you could hear the questions swirling in Tony’s brain, even the ones about when you happened to have a chat with Athena.
“Problem is, prophecies only come from an Oracle, and that Oracle is in Montauk,” you set your hands down on the kitchen island you were seated at, pressing your palms into the cool granite.
“And this prophecy could help us stop Dr. Achlys?” Steve asked, his eyes distant, the wheels in his brain turning. You gave him a confirming nod, watching as he straightened up.
“You won’t go alone. A couple of us will escort you there,” Steve said, his gaze shifting. He was back in captain mode, his leadership qualities taking form through his words. Natasha nudged you.
“When do we need to be there? For the prophecy?” She asked, watching you as she finished her pizza. You felt a swell in your chest at her choice of words. We.
“As soon as possible,” You muttered, feeling guilty for already pulling people away from only a couple hours of true rest and peace. They had just gotten back to their home, and you were already pulling them away to get to Montauk. It wasn’t a huge deal, just a quick trip, but it felt bigger than an errand run. Steve gave you a reassuring nod.
“Wheels up in an hour, you two,” Steve’s hands rested on his hips as he addressed you and Natasha. Tony piped in behind him, almost hiding behind Steve’s massive shoulders.
“I’ll get the jet prepped. I’m comin’ with,” he said, not leaving any room for ands or buts. It would be interesting, just the four of you. You wondered how people would react to seeing them near Camp Half Blood, seeing it for what it was rather than a strawberry patch that mortals usually saw. You figured it would be best to leave them on the jet, away from peering half blood eyes for the few kids who would be there during the school year. You worried if the jet being near the camp would bring the attention to monsters, but you had to remind yourself that the camp was safe. It would take a lot to get past the new defenses after the Gaea attacked.
Faster than you could think, you were soon walking up the ramp into the quinjet, feeling a thrum of thrill roar through you. It had been a long time since you had been to the camp, so you opted to bring your shield with you. It felt like another way for campers to recognize you when you’d waltz up to the Golden Fleece. Your eyes gazed at the empusa head in the center of it, feeling content and safe with it back in your hands again. You strode up next to Steve, watching Tony in the pilot seat, flipping switches and pressing buttons, speaking a bunch of nonsense to the AI voice.
“You ready?” Steve asked, glancing down at you. He still had his outfit on from earlier, the leather jacket hugging his shoulders nicely. You took a breath, and nodded.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Notes:
INCOMING PJO CHARACTER CAMEOS
also this fic is turning into something a lot bigger than I expected; I might be updating this all the way into next year lmao
Chapter 8: Captain America and His Habit of Property Damage
Notes:
I'm so sorry y'all
My computer is almost 7 years old, so she's a little old and has some *cough* viruses *cough* on her. She randomly rebooted and I lost progress on this WHOLE chapter.
That is why this took me so long, I'm so sorry dearies. This will delay next week's chapter, but I will try my hardest to get it done. I have a day off next week, so that should help me out get up to speed.
Thank you as always for reading!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Snap
The pencil in your hand splintered in half. Your fingers had been squeezing it while your mind drifted off. You were grabbing coordinates for camp off of a paper map that Tony just happened to have in the Quinjet. As great as Tony’s tech was, you weren’t keen on dropping exact coordinates to camp, digital footprint and all that. The graphite line you drew had run off, jagged lines where you started to wander, and an abrupt stop where the tip broke. You sighed deeply, your chest rising and falling with a deep huff, your face falling into your hands.
You were great at compartmentalization. Being the mentee/sister of Annabeth Chase had made you this way as well as being incredibly stubborn and sometimes an annoying know it all. However, you could feel the stress building, the bulk of it straining against the matter of your brain, making it feel like your entire body was inflamed and irritated. The stories and leads were blurring together as you navigated this path of saving the world and protecting those around you. Strategies and tactics were getting lost in your brain as you juggled everything.
Not to mention you felt like you were on the wrong track; it felt unbelievably wrong to get the Avengers involved in demigod business. Your mother had told you it was the only way, but it still felt unnecessarily dangerous for these mortals. While they were probably the most equipped mortals to handle life altering information, it still felt like you were ignoring a moral responsibility of yours. You were obliterating boundaries, crossing lines that weren’t ever meant to be crossed. Those facts alone were making your mind reel.
You stuffed the splintered remnants of the pencil into your pocket, grabbing the map to show Tony the coordinates he was waiting for. He gave you an amused smile, committing the numbers to memory. You felt a sliver of comfort, smiling at Tony as he respected your wishes about keeping the coordinates out of any of his tech. The only thing you trusted was his mind alone.
“Coordinate mapping seems a bit too old school, even for you,” Tony said, his eyes focusing on the moving particles and shapes on the screens before him. Without coordinates to punch in, Tony had to fly manually, so he was busy with the controls as he talked.
“This place, Tony. It’s one of the very few safe places for half bloods in the country. Forgive me for not trusting your tech, but I’ll do anything to protect my home. I know you understand the feeling,” You said, giving him a subtle nod.
“Yeah, well, can’t argue with that. At least you didn’t create a murder bot to protect your home,” Tony muttered, his eyebrows quirking upward in a flash before resting back in a neutral expression. You let out an easy breath, Tony’s words giving you the message you wanted to hear, craving his understanding.
“No, just bringing the world’s most powerful superheroes right to our home, probably sending out a signal to all the monsters roaming the Earth where to find their next demigod happy meal,” you quipped back, a smile spreading across your face. You weren’t necessarily comforted by revealing the epicenter of your prevailing anxieties, but it gave you some reprieve.
“So that’s why you seem to be on the same level as Steve when it comes to tech. That’s how they track you guys?” Tony asked, his eyes now completely focused on you. Whatever was on the screens in front of him was no longer capturing his attention. His arms rested on his seat, his hands surprisingly still. You wondered if he had just set the Quinjet on a vague direction, and would adjust when you got close to camp.
“Kind of. I still don’t even really know how, but the signal from a demigod using something like a cellphone just amplifies our location to every nearby monster. They can track us by scent, but using tech basically gives them an exact location,” you shifted on your feet, your gaze catching the clouds that drifted by, the New York City skyline far below the aircraft.
“So you didn’t even have a phone as a kid?”
You shook your head. “No, too dangerous. I valued my life more than texting– didn’t have anyone to call or text anyway.” Tony shrugged.
“Has it gotten worse now that you’re an old lady? What even is the life expectancy of a demigod-”
“Give or take fifteen years old-”
“Jesus christ,” Tony twitched.
“Well, to answer your question, demigods get more powerful the older they get. Not so easy to target me versus someone in their preteens, barely able to grasp who they even are,” Tony’s breaths had become quiet. You looked over to him, his head slightly bowed. His eyes looked sad; you could see the want, the burning desire to change things– the same desire that probably led him to make Ultron. A desperation that ran so deep that he dedicated his life to keeping the world safe, putting his own relationships in a strain to do so.
He looked broken up over kids like you who had to live in fear. Simply being the child of a god was something that came with high costs. You paid your penance for existing by watching your friends die, always looking over your shoulder, and taking on the responsibility of being the gods’ agents of the mortal plane.
You reached out to Tony, a hand on his sturdy shoulders. It was a small gesture, but one that Tony understood the importance of. There wasn’t much else to say, and there wasn’t much else to change about this universe half bloods lived in. That alone was enough to consume Tony, guilt eating away at his once metal heart.
“We’ve managed to not go extinct so far. We’ll keep surviving,” You spoke softly and intently, the words engraved into your very being. You will survive; your fellow demigods will survive. You tried to take that new guilt from him with just your touch.
You slipped away after a moment, hearing Friday’s voice echo quietly through the cabin about the estimated arrival time. You found yourself shuffling toward Natasha, her presence becoming an emotional crutch. Your eyes have begun to reflexively search her out in rooms and spaces whenever you felt that overwhelming sense of dread or worse. You took a seat next to her, watching her furiously type at the onboard computer. She was going too fast for you to understand what she was doing. Words were failing you, but you knew Natasha didn’t mind silence.
The vibrations of the Quinjet were a comfort, your mind feeling like static. The little heat emanating from Natasha and the temperature of the cabin was enough to make your eyes start to drift. You tried to keep yourself awake, but the pull of sleep wasn’t giving you a chance. You were nodding off, darkness snaking through your vision.
___________
“PERCY!”
You were screaming, your throat burning from the shred of your vocal chords. You could smell the ash and metal in the air; the smell of tin was familiar, the red staining the street you were standing in. You could feel the gravel that was punctured in your knees, your limbs and Camp Half Blood tee covered in dirt and grime.
Your spear was in your hand, and your shield held tightly in your grip. You could feel the dried blood under the metal handle, the crust irritating your skin underneath. It was like you were transported back into your body the day the Titans invaded, and you were simply just a witness to all the emotions and feelings running through your mind. You were put here in your dreams just to watch yourself suffer again.
You got separated from the vanguard, having chased off a group of hellhounds to round them up for a group wipe back to Tartarus. You had watched them shred through one of the Hephaestus kids’, searing anger and rage taking over your mind when you began the chase. When you came back, it was like the entire advancement had fallen apart. You kept running, the silence terrifying you, your entire chest tightening under the iron grip of fear.
You hadn’t felt utter devastation like this until you came across the first body. You saw the bright orange t-shirt and skid across the street, scrambling toward the limp body. You gripped the boy’s shirt, checking for a pulse. Your hand buried itself in his hair, and you immediately recognized his face. He was just thirteen, and had found his way to camp a few months earlier. He was claimed by Ares, but he never acted the part. He was gentle in his anger and rage, so when Clarise refused to join the fight, he slipped away with the Athena kids.
You looked at the blood seeping into the center of his shirt, the dribbles seeping out of his mouth and nose. His eyes were closed, and you were grateful. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them lifeless.
You gathered yourself and pressed on, feeling something in yourself snap when you left that boy on the pavement. You rounded the corner, coming back to the bridge where the attack began. You instantly started gagging, dropping to your feet as you looked at the mess of bodies. Blood was staining your knees and shins as you went to the dead, recognizing their faces and committing their names to the memorial you were already constructing in your memory. You’d never forget this, these kids and their sacrifice that the world would never know.
You dropped to your knees, the tears weighing megatons as you bowed your head. Your hands drifted to the last body you came to; a girl’s halo of golden hair, sprawled on the pavement. Blood soaked some of the strands, seeping out of a hidden wound on the back of her head. The necklace she wore only had one clay bead on it from last summer.
You felt your face screw, feeling a new wave of grief overwhelm you like a high tide. You bent over, trying to press your forehead to hers.
In a flash of movement, her hand gripped your forearm, the pads of her fingers burning your skin, black smoke curling up from the skin under her touch. Her grip was unwavering, the pressure on your bones making you cry out. Your shocked eyes looked at her in disbelief and ice cold terror.
“Your failure killed us, all of us,” her words were rasping, like she was choking on the very air that she was somehow inhaling. You had nothing to say, the shock and her words rendering you utterly useless.
“You’ll pay tenfold for all the lives you cost, and there will be no act great enough to stop the consequences you reaped,”
Her other hand scrambled off of the pavement, grabbing your throat. You choked, watching as the girl rose from the dead, her eyes bloodshot and lifeless. She got to her feet, unimaginable strength filling her body as she lifted you off the ground. Your toes barely scraped the ground, your hands gripping her unmovable hand. The hand that squeezed your trachea had two blown off fingers, the skin on her thumb knuckles scraped away, down to the bone. Despite the restriction of oxygen going to your brain, all you felt was guilt and despair.
You deserved death. You deserved worse than death for letting children die for your lapse of judgement. You deserved this suffering, this pain, this reminder from the dead themselves. You let her hand squeeze and squeeze until you couldn’t feel anymore.
_______________
You jerked awake, your hands gripping the arms of the seat you were half laying in. You blinked, letting your eyes focus on the tones of grey metals in the space around you. You heard muffles and murmurings, the gentle shifts of the Quinjet as it was beginning to descend. You breathed heavily through your nose, and you tilted your head down to watch your chest rise and fall. Gathering your thoughts was like rounding up sheep– chaotic, but routined practice got everything in order. This wasn’t something new, but the dead girl’s words echoing in your skull definitely was.
“Hey, you alright?” Steve’s soft voice sounded to your right, his massive frame coming into view. He took a seat next to you, his back resting against the wall of the cabin. That familiar concern bloomed in his eyes.
“Yeah- Yeah, I’m okay. Just a dream,” You gave him a reassuring nod, despite the strain in your shoulders and the tight smile you gave him. Steve looked like he was cataloging this moment, filing it away for a more appropriate time to discuss the haunting stare you had on your face.
“We’re going to have you take the lead on this one. We don’t know what we’re walking into here,” Steve was antsy. He liked being in control; he knew how to take orders, and excelled at it. Something like this was different. Uncharted waters in a whole new world of monsters and threats wasn’t exactly a comfort. He was putting a lot of faith and trust in you to help him navigate it.
“It’s home,” You paused, a slew of memories speeding through your neurons at lightspeed. A small smile crept along your face, a happy one. “I was raised here, so there’s no monsters to fear. Just some warry half bloods.” Steve nodded thoughtfully, his head slightly inclined to yours, those baby blues peering at you.
“It might be a bit of a boring ride, Steve. I think it’s best if I go in alone. It’s not an everyday thing, having three mortals just waltz in, especially members of the Avengers,” You chuckled, your eyes alighting at the sight of a beach on the Long Island Sound through Tony’s cockpit windows. Without hesitation, you got to your feet, practically leaping toward the back of Tony’s chair.
You felt all your problems disappear, watching that blue house come into view. A beautiful smile erupted onto your face, your teeth flashing with the thrill of excitement humming through your nerves. It was beautiful, and you hadn’t realized how terribly you missed being home.
Tony had touched the Quinjet down in a field a little less than a half mile away from Half Blood Hill. You were caught up in the familiar view, spinning around when you heard a small cough.
“What’s the play?” Tony pressed a button, lowering the cargo hatch of the Quinjet. With a few tentative steps outside, he took a look around, the sun peeking out through the overcast clouds. Steve and Natasha looked to you for orders. They were all shuffling on their feet, not used to this kind of unknown. Complete and utter blindness to what this all was.
“I’ll go in- I just need to hear the prophecy, and then we can be on our way,” You grabbed your shield that rested against a small pile of packed bags. You walked toward the ramp, feeling the warm breeze swirl, bringing about the faint smell of strawberries.
“We’ll be here.” Steve gave you an encouraging nod.
“If any of your vitals spike, we’re comin’ in,” Tony said nonchalantly, a series of holoscreens protruding from a watch face on his wrist. You didn’t ask how he would know; the only thought on your mind was home.
With a quick glance back, you jogged off toward Half Blood Hill. You could see the glint of the Golden Fleece wrapped around the pine that stood at the peak. You felt a giddy rush as you approached, feeling free from the shackles of your stress and responsibilities. You felt lighter than air as you reached the top, letting out a breath at the sight of camp. You let your gaze drift slowly, looking to the quiet forges, the beach where there seemed to be a group of kids, the practice range for archery, and more. You swore you saw nymphs out in the edges of the forest, spotting some sparkly remnants of their presence.
You had brought your shield with you just in case the kids on patrol didn’t recognize you. Even during the school year, there were always patrols no matter the time of day. None of the recent camp counselors were willing to risk any danger after the bloody years of war and loss, so patrols and rounds were set up. Despite the tree protecting the camp, nobody was ready to take another chance of possible invasion.
A patrol hadn’t walked by yet, so you began the descent from the hill to the big house. It would be a nice walk, a slight chill to the air, but it was worth it all the same. Everything looked still, and you felt a yearning to be here again in the summer. You could hear voices in the breeze like ghosts’; hearing the delighted yells and hoorahs of capture the flag players. You could smell the forges raging, and hear the neighs of pegasi soaring on high.
A flash of shadow pulled you out of your thoughts, a pair of thin arms wrapping around your torso in a tight squeeze. The sudden shock melted quickly, thawing from the warmth in the hug. You held Nico tightly, letting your cheek rest into the mop of hair on his head.
“Hey, stranger,” you whispered tenderly, feeling pure joy fill your chest. You could practically feel Nico’s smile, a rare thing for the kid. You supposed he wasn’t really a kid anymore, being almost twenty-two years old. He seemed to have barely grown from when he was 15, his height and size staying the same, though he wasn’t sickly thin anymore. He looked healthy, and he had been for awhile now.
“I thought I’d have to drag you back here at some point,” Nico said, his words sharp with no real bite behind them. He eventually dragged his arms back, looking up at you like you were the moon. You wondered where Will was hiding, not remembering Nico looking so happy without his sunshine boyfriend. You didn’t really believe it was you that could make him look at peace.
“Hate to break it to you, but I’m not here for just catching up,” You felt bad when you watched Nico’s face fall. He wasn’t upset at all, but he knew the truth threaded into your words. He was better at sensing dread than you were.
“What do you need?” He asked, his eyes calculating.
“I need to see, Rachel,” You almost whispered, Nico’s eyes widening a fraction.
“A prophecy?” You winced at Nico’s shock.
“It’s a lot to explain…” you felt the urge to hide under Nico’s intense gaze. He quirked a brow.
“Is that why some of the Avengers are out in that field?” You whirled, but shouldn’t have been surprised. Nico had eyes everywhere, and often lurked in the shadows when retrieving information. It was one of his many talents, and it wasn’t unfamiliar to be on the other end of his shadow lurking.
“Were you spying on me?” You couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at your lips and dimpled your cheek. Nico rolled his eyes.
“Other people can be observant, you know. Leo’s over there right now talking Tony Stark’s ear off-”
“WHAT?” You whipped your head around back toward the hill, as if you’d have a view of them. “Since when has Leo even been back-”
“You tend to miss a lot of stuff when you don’t visit for like two years,” Nico retorted, his arms folded across his chest. He gave you an annoyed look, quickly spinning around to make his way to the big house. You sighed, rubbing at one of your eyes that started twitching. It was like you almost forgot how chaotic being around other demigods was. Just a group of ADHD riddled children running around trying to save the world without losing their goddamn minds.
With a sigh, you followed Nico’s steps up to the familiar sky blue house. “Have you talked to Percy or Annabeth since you went radio silent?” Nico had asked, his voice carried by the wind back to you. You didn’t know what to say; the silence was answer enough for Nico. He sighed, that hint of disappointment woven in his breath.
“You know they care about you, right? They want to hear from you,” Nico responded, sounding like he was your parental figure.
“I know, Nico. I know. I just got…busy,” You didn’t like lying, and you could tell you weren’t lying to him, but rather, yourself.
“Yeah right, that’s why you used your emergency button, and made me shadow travel all the way to Alaska,” Nico retorted quickly, not even looking back at you. There was a moment of silence.
“Thank you for that… how is she?” You asked, thinking back to that little girl you found in that facility. You were so grateful Nico had come as quickly as he did. Nico took a moment to respond.
“She’s good. She’s really happy here; she spends a lot of time with the satyrs,” Nico knew it would give you some comfort. Having her thrive was good news, and it did make you feel better. It gave you something good to hang on to.
The rest of the walk was easy silence, Nico’s hand eventually finding yours. He gave your hand a tight squeeze, letting his hands fall out of your fingers once you two reached the porch of the big house. With a creak of the front door, you were hit by the smell of fresh cookies and freshly chopped wood. With a step through the threshold of the door, the stress you carried was left waiting on the welcome mat. You smiled easily as you looked around the sitting room, looking around at all the leopard printed throw blankets and pillows.
“I’ll go grab Rachel,” Nico replied, already stepping around a doorway to the stairs.
“Where’s Chiron?” You called out, making yourself comfortable on one of the brown, worn leather couches.
“Down at the beach with the year round kids,” Nico raised his voice. You heard his soft steps reach the upstairs landing, the skull socks he was wearing muffling the sound. You let your eyes drift close, soaking in the peace and stillness. You half listened to Nico’s steps as he wove through rooms, his voice mixing with Rachel’s once he seemed to have found her.
You cracked a smile hearing a thump and hurried steps, Rachel’s voice speeding through every word in her vocabulary. She nearly tumbled down the stairs, her bare feet keeping her from falling over. You looked up at her once she ran into the sitting room, eyes sparkling as her red, frizzy curls bounced into view. Before you could get up to greet her, she launched herself onto the couch, crushing your body into the cushions.
“Oh my god, I missed you so much-” Her words were spilling out of her mouth like an endless tide, and her arms squeezed you tightly. You buried your face into her curls, smelling the oil paints she must have been using earlier.
“I missed you too, Rach,” You pulled back, keeping one of her hands locked in yours. Her smile lit up her face, her whole body alight with the emotions she conveyed. She was wearing another set of paint stained jeans, a bundle of brushes spilling out of her back pocket. “Not feeling the cave anymore?”
Rachel snickered. “No, I still stay there. Chiron said the infirmary was looking drab, so I took that as permission to go liven it up a bit,” She laughed, continuing to talk about the irises and honeysuckles she was painting along the walls. You spotted Nico out of the corner of your eye, watching you two with that gloomy look of his. He was leaning against the wall, stalling whatever prophecy Rachel was going to spew. Since only you could here it, his presence prevented the spirit of Delphi from taking over her body. He was giving her some extra time with you which tainted your joy with guilt. It spread like poison in your chest, knowing you were only visiting for this prophecy, and not out of the desire to see everyone.
Not that you didn’t want to; you loved these people more than anything. It just felt like you didn’t deserve time like this with them. You weren’t good like they were, and it felt best if you stayed away. You didn’t want to stain the happiness here.
Rachel’s eyes started turning green. Not the beautiful green her eyes usually were, but the bright neon green of Delphi. Her words were slowing, dying on her tongue once the green from her eyes were radiating, brightening your own face with their color. Nico had left the room, the spirit of Delphi taking over Rachel. She slowly stood to her feet, her mouth slack. You gulped, feeling fear grip your throat like that girl in your dream. It squeezed and squeezed as you heard Rachel’s words.
The daughter of Athena’s final task is joined by forces of mortal’s best,
A hero’s blade, wielded by one who is blessed,
A life lost in a lake of gold, violence and death at every turn,
For Lady Death has arrived to see the world burn.
Your heart raced, it felt like a hammer thumping against your chest. The terror from those words packed enough of a punch to drop you to your knees. Your hand gripped at your chest, eyes wide in fear. The words had been branded into your brain; you swore you could smell the odor of burning gray matter. You were hot and cold all at once, sweat dripping off your brow while your spine ran straight, feeling like you had been dunked into the sea of the Arctic.
Once she came to, Rachel’s hands were on your shoulders, gently rubbing circles into them. You looked at the fear in her own green eyes; she never remembered the prophecies she gave, but your reaction was enough for her to know it was bad. Nico had run back into the room, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Both of their mouths were moving, but you couldn’t hear them. You could only hear Delphi’s words ringing and echoing in your mind.
You focused on the sounds of their heart beats and breaths, trying to come back to your senses. It was a futile attempt as you watched Nico and Rachel whip their heads to the front door, looking just as lost and confused as you felt. Then, you heard it.
Thunderous stomps were approaching at a sprint-like speed, almost shaking the house as they ran up the front steps of the porch and toward the door. Within a blink, Steve was standing in the doorway, the doorknob in his hand, having taken the entire front door of its hinges by his sudden burst into the house, having used his whole body as a battering ram. His eyes whirled to you, the holoscreens protruding from his watch. You saw your vitals screen was up, your heart rate and blood pressure wildly high from what you could see.
His chest rose and fell rapidly, his eyes looking you over, assessing for anything that caused your vitals to spike so aggressively. He was frozen in his spot, not prepared for Nico and Rachel’s presence by your side. You both considered each other, eyes locked. You felt red heat spread across your cheeks and neck, splotching your skin. You didn’t even hear Rachel as she practically screamed.
“Oh my god, is that Captain America?”
Notes:
SPOOKY PROPHECY MUAHAHAHAHA
Also, next chapter, we will get a timeline of events in this universe so you kind of get a sense of how MCU events and percy jackson events intertwine with each other.
Chapter 9: Tony Stark Probably Sent Chiron a Check in the Mail
Notes:
forgive me- my update schedule is all out of whack.
Do not fret- I am very dedicated to this story so updates will continue about every week, week and a half. I hope I'm still doing this story justice! I spent a lot of time planning the rest of the plot out so I wouldn't get lost in the details. I'm trying to make it as well thought out as I can being a very amateur writer lol
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Sorry again for the damages. This one here is a bit overzealous,” Tony’s hand smacked against Steve’s shoulder, a little bit harder than necessary. The stinging slap was enough to make Steve flinch, his sheepish look twitching.
Apparently Steve’s thunderous steps and his explosive entrance into the big house was enough to bring Chiron running, his hooves pounding into the dirt path from the beach up to the porch flanked by a couple campers. Tony had flown in with a pair of gauntlets covering his hands and forearms, Natasha hot on his heels. It was quite a sight, just you and Rachel practically laying on the floor, quickly becoming surrounded by armed fighters, looking for danger. Nico was leaning against one of the sitting room walls, amusement spilling from his smirk.
After a stuttering explanation from you, Steve’s shoulders finally relaxed, his eyes flitting around the room, taking everything in. You noticed his gaze landed on Chiron’s white horse legs a bit longer than anything else. Tony looked about ready to strangle the super soldier, his fiery gaze meeting Steve’s who was trying to make himself look as small as possible. Tony immediately began offering to fix the door, his gaze primarily focused on Chiron. You watched as he tried to keep his gaze on Chiron’s face, doing his best to ignore the half horse body. Your mentor didn’t mention it if he noticed, looking at Tony with a kind smile.
You glanced over at Rachel, watching her giddy eyes fly around the room. You could practically hear her thoughts, probably along the lines of ohmygodtheavengersareinthelivingroom or something similar. She had a confused, but bright smile plastered on her face.
“And the prophecy?” Chiron’s head calmly turned to you, his even and calm stare meeting your eyes. Your eyes snapped to his; Chiron wasn’t asking for the details, but rather checking to make sure you heard it and had the words etched into your memory. You didn’t question how he knew why you came. You gave him a nod, feeling that sickly nauseous haze return when you heard Rachel’s haunting words in your head. It made you twitch, a cold chill running down your spine.
“I heard it. Like always, it’s vague and ominous,” You smiled at Chiron’s soft chuckle.
“I’m assuming these fine mortals have clear sight for a reason far larger than a small quest,” Chiron looked back to Tony, Steve, and Natasha who all stood awkwardly in the doorway turned hole in the wall. Splinters from where the hinges had ripped from the doorframe were littered around their feet, crunching under Steve’s boots when he shifted. You never thought you’d ever see them look this way– unsure of their surroundings and looking not so mighty. Chiron had shooed out the campers that followed him from the beach earlier, but you had a feeling those kids would have laughed looking at this trio of heroes.
You felt your hands fidget. “It’s a long story, Chiron.” You looked up at him, your gut roiling as you gave Chiron a cut down description of the most recent events. Three mortals just waltzed into camp, knowing about the gods, and seeing the camp for what it was versus the usual strawberry patches that obscured them from mortal view. Rachel’s presence at camp was a shift, one that a lot of the campers weren’t comfortable with. Now, three of some of the most powerful mortals on the planet know of their existence. You couldn’t blame anybody who would feel a little wary, yet Chiron nodded along as you spoke, his face only becoming more grave as you explained the serious threat of Dr. Achlys. He didn’t seem to worry much about the Avengers all knowing about half bloods.
“And I understand, you don’t have much time, is that right?” Chiron’s hand rested down on your shoulder once you finished retelling the details. You felt like a little girl again, banged up and bruised from when Percy and Annabeth found you, dragging you back to camp with them, monsters hot on your tails. Your eyes peered up at the man; he was giving you a quick escape.
You loved these people, and of course you wanted to stay. But Chiron somehow knew that you needed to do this on your own. Quests were usually completed in trios, but like the prophecy of the seven, this was a special occurrence. The prophecy did explicitly say that you would need to do this with the Avengers, but your heart panged when you looked around the room, seeing the familiar faces of your friends, your family. Everyone in this room had a tendency for self sacrifice, so you wouldn’t give them a chance to try and help. Not yet.
“The more time we take, the more demigods are at risk. She’s targeting younger ones. I won’t let any more demigod blood spill on my account,” you whispered, feeling that pang of guilt swell in your chest when you saw that twinge of disappointment in Chiron’s face. He tried to hide it, he really did, but you had a knack for seeking out when you failed to meet the standards others had set for you. You knew he wasn’t mad at you. That fatal flaw of yours was revealing itself, and Chiron had been one of the first people to clock it. You tended to shoulder all the weight and responsibility of things, carrying it like Atlas who held up the sky. You’d do it without complaint, without asking for help, which had almost gotten you killed a few times when you were younger and more stubborn.
“If you need anything, you can find it here,” Chiron responded, his words like a medicine for all your ailments. The weight of that flash of disappointment you saw in his face was shoved back to the back of your mind for now. You gave him a nod, summoning your strength to leave the warmth of Chiron and this place. You watched Nico approach, tossing you a limp backpack. You heard the metallic scrape of the drachmas in one of the small pockets, feeling the square shapes of wrapped ambrosia.
“You’ve got an army of Romans and Greeks if you need us,” Nico said, his intense gaze meeting yours. You opened your mouth to speak, but Nico held up a hand. “I know what you’ll say, but you aren’t alone. We chose to go into battle, and we will all make the choice if you come calling.”
You wrapped your arms gently around the boy, feeling like he was still fourteen years old in your grasp. You were grateful for him; he knew exactly what it felt like to want to handle things alone. He was just as stubborn as you; it felt like you were staring at a mirror when you and Nico were younger. All anger and relentless immovability. It’s probably the reason why you two latched onto each other so quickly. Nico’s face buried itself into your hoodie, a muffled “I mean it” being consumed by the fabric.
With hugs spread around and words of encouragement whispered into ears, you stepped down the porch, bracketed by Steve, Natasha, and Tony. With a small wave and a few wistful glances back, you turned your back on the view from camp. You feared if you looked too long, you’d want to stay forever.
The walk back to the Quinjet was quiet, the sun just a pin prick in the horizon. The crickets were sounding off in a multitude of choruses as the stars began to blink into view.
“A little forewarning next time you decide to take breaking and entering to the extreme,” Tony muttered to Steve, his stride widening to catch up to the captain. Steve sounded regretful in his string of apologies.
“I know, Tony, I’m sorry. You got the alarm on your watch, and I just- I just had to do something,” You couldn’t see Steve’s face, both men lurking behind you as you led the way down Half Blood Hill. You could picture the look Steve was sporting– all puppy dog eyes and subtle pouting.
“The poster child of America ladies and gentlemen,” Tony announced grandly, oozing sarcasm with his hands spread into the air. Steve’s face remained still, his eyes downturned. The billionaire’s attempt at lifting Steve’s sour expression wasn’t enough. He settled for something small. Tony patted Steve’s back again, a gentler touch this time.
“I know, big guy. That’s why we keep you around,” Tony’s voice was as gentle as a whisper. One of those moments where if you blinked, you would miss that genuine love and care he spread to Steve with his words.
You smiled to yourself as you listened to them talk softly back and forth. You hadn’t been there for when the chasm erupted between them, but things seemed to be healing. The chasm was slowly being filled, and eventually, Tony and Steve would meet in the middle again.
Once settled back into the jet, the ride back to the Avengers compound was quick. You almost jolted when you felt the Quinjet slowly touch down on the roof of the main building. You had been reciting the prophecy over and over in your head, thinking about ladies of death you might know or lakes of gold. You must have looked so lost in thought that the three heroes in front of you busied themselves with other things, giving you some space.
Before you knew it, the cabin looked empty, prompting you to quickly get up from one of the seats in the aircraft, snatching up your shield and the small, maroon Jansport backpack Nico had given you. While you grabbed your things, you heard a pair of feet walking back up the open ramp of the Quinjet. When you turned, your gaze met a sea of blue.
“Hey,” Steve spoke quietly as he approached you. There was a beat of silence as he came within an arm's distance of you. “I’m sorry about the door and interrupting the prophecy-” you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped you. Steve’s words stopped, replaced with a tentative smile.
“Don’t worry about it, Steve. They have dealt with far worse things there, so they should be able to handle a broken door,” You waited for Steve as he passed you to the cockpit, flipping switches to finish shutting down the Quinjet. There was a brewing feeling in the air; you two were thinkers, not rashly vomiting out whatever thoughts popped into your brains. You were both meticulous and careful.
“So… Chiron. He was your teacher?” Steve asked, his hands pausing over the dash. He didn’t turn or look back, something fogging his brain from continuing his task. You watched him as you responded.
“A teacher, a mentor, a parent. He practically raised almost every camper to walk through Camp Half Blood. He taught some of the greats too like Achilles, Hercules, and Jason-” Steve’s head snapped to you, finally pulled out of the past that he looked stuck in just a moment before.
“Really?” Steve’s eyes were wide and twinkling with wonder like he had seen the stars for the first time. You couldn’t help but smile and nod. You would always be proud to boast about Chiron. He was held in the highest regard in your heart.
“Yeah, he’s a bit of a legend.” You smiled, following Steve as he slowly emerged from the Quinjet, closing the ramp behind you two.
“Now I’m really regretting my decision of breaking down that man’s door,” Steve smiled brightly, both of you chuckling. Your soft laughter matched the stillness of the night, the gentle breeze bringing about a subtle chill. Your chest filled as you two slowly meandered into the building, reminiscing about role models. You told the tales of some of Chiron’s greatest moments, and Steve softly spoke of the short time he got with Dr. Erskine, the memories cradled gently in his heart.
It was calming listening to Steve talk, both of your steps moving at a glacial pace. His hands were stuck in his pockets, his face an open book, transported back to those memories he softly told you about. You felt your shoulder suddenly brush against his arm, your steps slowly drifting into Steve’s path. Steve’s gaze tilted toward you the second you felt the brush of clothes. For the brief second you two had touched, you swore you could feel the heat that radiated from Steve. You wondered if the serum made him run hot, perhaps an increased metabolism thing. You felt that heat travel up to your neck and face, hoping he didn’t see the blotchy pink of your embarrassment.
You were thankful that your next steps brought you two to the main living area, the lights dim, a bright glow emanating from a projector in the living room. Everyone was piled onto the couches save Bruce and Tony; you heard a chorus of munching and chewing, a cluster of bowls and plates crowded together on a coffee table. Sam’s eyes flickered up to you and Steve’s entrance, his hand retreating from a bowl of popcorn.
“Hey-” he grumbled as he peeled himself off the coach, Bucky rolling his eyes when his arm rest left him high and dry. He quickly approached you two, a small smirk spread across his face. “How was the prophecy thing, uh, was it good?” Sam’s arms folded awkwardly, his eyes glancing back and forth between you two. You snorted.
“Yeah- Yeah, Sam. It was good,” You grinned, watching Sam as he looked at Steve. Some unsaid words were travelling between their gazes. Before the moment carried too long (and before you could translate), Sam piped up again.
“So what’s next?” Steve glanced down at you, then back to Sam. Something subtle in his gaze that you didn’t have enough time to analyze.
“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Get some rest,” Steve gave Sam a soft pat on the back, Sam smiling appreciatively. Steve said goodnight, those sparkling eyes only gazing at you when he spoke. You felt the flare from when your shoulder brushed his arm, using pure will power to try and stop the spread of pink splotches again. He slowly disappeared down the hallway toward his old bedroom, his gaze finally ripping away from you when his head turned. You watched him go, feeling lighter even with the prophecy whirling in your mind. You weren’t at peace, but you felt like carrying the burden came a little easier.
“You wanna join us? We’re watching Transformers,” Sam’s voice punctured that bubble you had been in, reminding you that he in fact was still there. You hoped you didn’t look like an idiot just staring there watching Steve. He gestured toward the couches, your eyes glancing past his shoulders. The scene reminded you of the seven, all tangled limbs and soft laughter. It didn’t even seem strange to see a group of heroes gathered together, relaxed and content. You figured dark and brooding were a part of the job, but after so many years, you supposed they found their own way to protect their peace and serenity.
You hoped that would be something you would start learning sooner or later, but tonight wasn’t the night to start. The storm that had quieted in your mind would only find the space to rage once more in the quiet. And when Steve’s calming effect had eventually worn off. So, instead of taking the offer like you should have, you give Sam a tight smile.
“Another time maybe,” you chose to ignore the sad tilt to Sam’s upturned mouth. He gave you a nod, bidding you goodnight as you stalked down the hallway. Friday unlocked your door for you, the door sliding open silently. When you stepped inside, you found the mess you had left earlier, piles of belongings strewn about. You sighed, choosing to make this tomorrow’s problem. You dropped your shield and the backpack to the ground, shedding the extra weight they seemed to carry.
You wanted to sleep, you could feel the pull to the soft sheets that looked more than inviting. You spent a lot of time thinking, and for all your worrying and fretting, most of it was scheming and plotting. What had been a recurring detail to you was the pile of celestial gold weaponry Steve had mentioned back at that little farmhouse. Dr. Achlys was collecting the weapons, but for what reason? Why had she left them behind?
You figured the best way to tackle this was from a scientist’s perspective; a scientific approach might lead you down the same path Dr. Achlys took to get to her end goal. Maybe then you could start fighting and stopping whatever she was planning. For now, you just needed to recruit two of the best scientists in the world to help you get started.
__________
Your shield and spear in hand, you wound your way through the compound, following Friday’s instructions to get to the workshop Tony and Bruce were holed up in. It was different from the first workshop; the first one was small, clearly meant for Tony producing those braces that held Rhodey up on his legs. This one was bigger, robotic arms protruding from the floor, work benches scattered around. There was a blast door with ballistic glass to look through on one end of the space. Tony and Bruce were talking over a series of hollographics displayed around them.
It didn’t take them long to notice you. Friday probably had warned Tony about your incoming presence beforehand, both Bruce and him inviting you closer.
“So you’re the type that can’t sleep and has to work all the time too, huh?” Tony muttered, a chipped coffee mug in his hands that was hopefully holding decaf. You glanced at a small LED clock on a benchtop near Bruce. You winced when the time read far later than you had thought it was.
“Until I drop dead,” you responded, setting your shield and spear onto the work table in between you two. Tony’s eyes were immediately drawn to the weapons, his coffee mug almost immediately discarded to the side, his hands pressing into the metal.
“Not anything I’ve seen before– is this going to shoot lasers at me if I look at it wrong? Bruce, you see anything this light before? Almost matches vibranium density, but the balance is off,” He tossed your retracted spear into Bruce’s hands. He spun it around, analyzing every detail, humming in response. “What is this? Some kind of alloy or cheaper replica of vibranium?” Bruce asked, already turning toward a blank bench top. Bruce placed your retracted spear on the table top, blue holographics popping up immediately, spewing data to the scientist. Tony’s gaze landed back to you.
“Is it my birthday? Or is giving me an unknown metal and potentially new element just your way of getting into my good graces,” Tony cocked an eyebrow at you, not even watching his hands as they swiped through holograms full of shapes and sheets of data. Your fingers tapped on the workbench, your eyes stuck on the screaming Empusa in the center of your shield.
“She had a whole collection of weapons like mine– Dr. Achlys. They’re made out of celestial bronze; it’s a precious metal to demigods, and it’s mined by Cyclops. You can take samples of it, look all the way down to the molecules, whatever it takes. We just need to find what’s special enough about it that would make her start collecting it,” You said, forcing yourself to peel your eyes away from your old weapons. You had latched onto them for a long time, feeling like the memories of your childhood survival were woven into their very atoms.
You could let go of them for this. It felt like ridding yourself of your limbs, leaving them behind with Tony and Bruce. They could keep them for as long as they needed; however long it would take them to find the answer you were hoping were hidden in the metal. The sword of Odysseus was yours now to fill the void, and it already felt like an extension of yourself, only having practiced with it a time or two.
“So you don’t think she’s keeping them to arm her super secret army to take over the world,” Tony spoke nonchalantly, his back now turned to you, his attention on Bruce who already seemed to be forming a series of experiments to start. Bruce was talking quietly with Friday. You thought about what Tony said, sifting through flashes of files and pictures in your subconscious.
“No… no I don’t think so. Even with how elusive she is, I don’t think she could keep an army of demigods a secret or under her control,” You shuddered, thinking about Kronos and how he manipulated Luke and other demigods that turned to his side. You felt fear and dread spread through your body, making you turn cold.
“Mind control isn’t a possibility?” Tony seemed to be shooting out ideas at random, his attention split between you and Bruce, his eyes lighting up with excitement when they tried to send an electric current through the shield. You heard him mutter a small interesting when the current didn’t hold, the celestial bronze dispelling the voltage.
“It’s possible, but it took a really powerful force to do it,” you said, feeling like a pair of golden eyes were staring from behind you, peering into the fabric of your soul. To satisfy your worry, you turned your head, looking over your shoulder.
“Go get some shut eye, Anakin Skywalker, we’ll get on this-” You tilted your head, looking at Tony with amusement. He peered back at you, a blow torch now in his hand. “What- is it weird to relate a sword to a lightsaber? Whatever, get to bed before the widow comes and harasses you about physical wellness,” Tony immediately turned back to the shield with the blow torch, whining about Bruce berating him for not wearing some kind of fire safety equipment.
Without sparing a glance behind you, you left the lab and wound your way through the compound, taking the long way back to your room. You were on the ground floor, strolling through the dark main lobby, staring up at the coiling staircase that went up three levels. It was a beautiful view out the floor to ceiling windows, the glass curving with the shape of the building. The stars and moon were bright, a faint glow creeping across the floor to your shoes. A haunting feeling crept through your bones once you spotted The Huntress constellation in the sky. You shook your head and walked back to the living quarters when a memory of blood, a wooden bow, and black hair invaded your mind, piercing through the thin veil of peace you had tried to cloak yourself with. That Steve had tried to protect you with.
Notes:
Is that enough steve crumbs for you? hehehehe
Also, as promised, the official timeline of events (It's not exactly canon compliant but whatever this my story and reader isn't like some 19 year old.
2011 - Battle of Manhattan
2012 - Battle of New York
2013 - Gaea attacks CHB
2014- Age of Ultron
~ 4 years later ~
2018 - Civil War
Events of The Sword and The Shield occur about a year and a half after the ending of CA Civil War. Reader is about 26 ish? Reader is the same age as Percy Jackson and Percy was 16 during Battle of Manhattan. (I'm not too interested in being exactly lore accurate to the PJO series since there are a TON of details, forgive me if this puts you off, but it is just too much for me to keep straight)
Chapter 10: I Witness A Stark-Rogers Marriage Counseling Session
Notes:
hi honey bunnies
Enjoy this chapter! There's a few bits of science jargon in here; I had a quick geek out moment, so hopefully I don't get too lost in it!
Love ya's
PS- I'm going to try and throw in some songs or soundtracks that I listened to while writing, sometimes it's nice to feel the vibe with the music.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Come on, again,” Bucky bit back at you, not keen on your groaning and moaning. You were laying on your side again after getting tossed in the air like pizza dough until Bucky full body slammed you into the mat. It had been a repetitive process, and your whole body was aching after each consequence Bucky gave you for your mistakes.
While the team waited for a new breakthrough on Dr. Achlys’ world ending scheme, or a hit on her movements, Steve had put together a plan to get you trained to Avengers level standards. His regiment was gruelling this past week, and it was usually carried out by Bucky or Natasha. Occasionally Sam would be your teacher for the day, but he seemed to be doing a lot of covert fly overs when the team suspected possible hits on the scientist.
Today, you were met with Bucky’s relentlessness in the gym. It had been four hours since you started, some breaks in between each test of your limits. Each drive and push, Bucky seemingly found new ways to dismantle your attacks and rip through your defenses. Hand to hand combat was never your strong suit since punches didn’t really do much against ancient Greek monsters, and S.H.I.E.L.D. had just slapped guns into your hands to resolve all their issues.
So, when Bucky found your weak spot, he made sure you knew exactly how weak it was.
The first time you two did this dance, his punch landed right in your face, some of your teeth feeling loosened from your gums. You learned then that Bucky would continue to use full force, expecting you to catch on quickly due to your gifts from Athena.
When Steve went over the plan he had curated with you, you had to explain to him in great detail just how extensive your gifts and durability was. You had told Steve that a gift most of Athena’s offspring received was the ability to have practical use of any weapon once in your hands, even without ever having previous experience. You proved it to him when he gave you his shield, and you heaved it perfectly, bouncing it off the walls, so it came back to you. Tony immediately wanted to let you have a test run in one of the iron man suits, but Steve quickly shut that down.
Bruce also helped Steve run some physical tests that measured every aspect of your physical being. Apparently it was necessary if you were to be a “temporary” Avenger; everyone needed to know everybody’s physical charts, down to everyone’s specifically calculated metabolic rates in case they were exposed to anything alien. It was extensive and incredibly interesting as you were put through all sorts of testing on treadmills, measuring your lung capacity, as well as testing any possible healing factor you could have that was above the average humans.
Now, you were really regretting telling Steve about your gifts from Athena since Bucky seemed adamant about abusing them thoroughly.
“For a daughter of Athena, I expected your will power to be more… impressive,” You couldn’t tell if Bucky was trying to make you angry on purpose, or if he really was expecting more. It was enough to spark a bit of rage in you, immediately making you jump back onto your feet. His words were like smelling salts, opening all your synapses and shifting ions at a hyper speed rate. You watched his eyes flicker with something akin to excitement when he watched the storm rage in your grey eyes.
Without another word, you flew at him with a fury of fists and kicks. His eyes were gleaming as he countered every move, a sense of ease running through his limbs as he built his attack, parrying until you opened up. A light bulb went off in your head, a past lesson of Bucky’s reverberating in your skull. It felt like time slowed for a moment as you remembered his words.
“When you're analyzing your opponent, you must be aware of their own observations. Don’t ever assume they aren’t watching your every move; you have to know your own tendencies. If you know you favor a side or have a habit of comboing moves then they will find those habits. Make yourself unpredictable, so they can’t break you.”
Time resumed; you parried with Bucky, and he was waiting for you to open up after the series like you usually did. Instead, you ducked under his metal fist that would have knocked you back to the floor, taking him down with a swift move to his ankles. His back and head slammed into the floor, a short look of surprise on his face. He shouted out a slew of praises, continuing the fight without a beat. You wanted to be annoyed with how quickly he recovered, but the praises he gave you was what you had been waiting for day after day of screwing up. You found a new sense of speed that helped you keep up with Bucky’s pace for another hour.
The fight ended in a stalemate, your body collapsing in a puddle of sweat. Your chest heaved, and your breath had run ragged. Your body shook when you tried to bring yourself to your feet, and you probably looked pathetic shaking in your crouched position. Bucky had a huge smile plastered across his face, his hair sticking to his forehead.
“Now that,” Bucky swiped away sweat with a towel he grabbed from a shelf on one side of the room, “That was what I was waiting for,” Bucky laughed, clear and crisp, and tossed you a clean towel. You starfished onto the floor, laying the towel over your head.
“Was that enough for you? Have I finally graduated from Bucky Barnes fighting classes from hell?” You groaned, feeling nasty laying in your own sweat. Bucky had plopped down onto the mat across from you, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“Hell no. Just because you finally listened to me once doesn’t mean you’re done,” Bucky went through some slow stretches, his breathing quickly returning to normal. You were jealous as you still continued to heave, your breath steadying bit by bit. You wondered how his super soldier serum differed from Steve’s, if they found any differences between the two. All you could imagine was the two having a quick impromptu foot race to see who could reach the treeline outside the compound the fastest.
“Do I become an Avenger when I finally beat you?” You asked, breaking the silence as you rolled over onto your stomach, slowly sitting up to start stretching. Bucky paused in his movements.
“You’re already an Avenger. All this is to keep you safe,” Bucky responded, his voice gruff after a small pop sounded from his stretching hip.
“You know I’ve survived this long on my own without training like this,” You responded, a timid smile on your face. You didn’t mean to sound ungrateful for all the incredible experience with living legends, but you felt a sudden need to defend yourself. Bucky didn’t reciprocate the smile, a tone of seriousness falling over him like a cascading waterfall, the mask shifting into place.
“When you become an Avenger, a hero, anybody who does good like those guys,” Bucky’s metal finger gently pushed against the A on your shoulder, embroidered into the hoodie you were wearing, “your world gets a whole lot bigger and a whole lot more dangerous. You’re gonna find more and more people want to see you suffer or dead outside of all your regular greek stuff,” Bucky’s tone was even, his eyes never wavering from yours. His hand gave your shoulder a squeeze as he continued, “You’re well equipped for as young as you are, but we want to give you every tool we can to keep you alive. I don’t think I’d live with myself if I watched another young kid like you die because we didn’t help you keep yourself breathing.”
You nodded at Bucky, letting his words wash over you. You had assumed they were training you so you could simply keep up with them. Even being a demigod, it wasn’t enough to keep up with super soldiers and suits of metal. Their experiences in world saving were far more extensive than your two meager battles to save the human race, so you were fully determined to immerse yourself in this training plan. All you wanted was to meet their expectations to just be a part of the team.
In reality, they were teaching you in case they weren’t there to save you themselves. They had already made you a part of the team, and maybe the Avengers’ branded clothing stuffed in your closet and your own private room in their living quarters should have been sign enough. You were so focused on your own shortcomings that you didn’t see your name was already in the team lineup.
“So I’m already on the team-”
“Of course you are, smartass. I wouldn’t be this hard on you if you weren’t,” That stunning smile returned to Bucky’s face, his metal shoulder gently shoving you when he sat by your side. You let a shy smile spread across your face, and the subtle tingle of joy travelled down to your fingertips. You felt like you were fourteen all over again, looking into the sea blue eyes that belonged to Percy, finally feeling acceptance when he told you how valuable you were to him and his team. It was only a game of capture the flag, but it had meant so much to your prepubescent mind. It was a turning point for you, finally allowing yourself the privilege of trusting someone other than yourself.
Your eyes flickered up when Steve entered the gym, his hands on his hips. His face looked freshly flushed, a bright pink coloring his cheeks and nose. His chest rose and fell steadily, his breath not hurried, but recovering from whatever he called a hard run. Probably an hour sprint up a mountain or something like that.
You felt your own cheeks flush, Steve’s gaze drifting between you and Bucky. You watched his mouth move, totally ignoring the words spilling from them. You were entirely distracted by the way his hands moved and his fingers stretched around his hips. Your eyes were glued to the moving muscles and tendons, feeling entranced when a folded, clean towel was tossed to Steve. It was like time was moving in slow motion, his fingers folding around the towel, delicately moving the fabric across his sweaty brow.
You snapped back to reality the moment Bucky’s metal finger flicked your shoulder, the coolness of the metal making you shiver. The pink of your cheeks turned bright red when you met Steve’s stormy blues looking at you curiously; gods, you hoped Steve couldn’t hear your pounding heart. You, in fact, knew he could hear it as well as the heart beats of people three floors up. You felt more embarrassed for staring than anything else. He always seemed to be lurking around whenever you were in the gym with the team. His gaze always felt analyzing and calculating when you were fighting with Natasha. He never gave you any constructive criticisms, or praises. You’d feel his gaze on your back, and once the lesson was over, and you looked over your shoulder, he was gone. You guessed you were just giving him a taste of what he did to you all the time.
“Hard lesson today?” Steve asked, a small smirk spreading across your face after you buried your face in your towel, wiping away the dried up sweat. Bucky chuckled.
“An easy lesson she had to learn the hard way,” Bucky muttered, unfolding himself once he got to his feet. Bucky held out a hand to you, pulling you up to stand by his side. You grumbled a few grievances about Bucky’s choice of words, shoving your shoulder into his. You threw him a look when your shove didn’t even make him shift his feet, his stance strong and stable.
“If you aren’t too tired, I was going to take you over to the lab. Tony wants to talk to you,” Steve said, his gaze drifting back to you. He was wearing a soft smile, his skin already back to its fair complexion. Any hint of exertion from his run was gone, replaced by his regular calm nature. You gave him a nod, grabbing the water bottle Bucky had handed over to you and collected yourself.
Bucky quickly excused himself, Steve shouting after him that he smelled like a sewer rat that crawled out of Hell’s Kitchen. You stifled a laugh when Steve was met with a metal middle finger.
Steve led you out of the gym, discussing your training and regiment. He was always asking if it was too much, concern oozing out of every word. He continued to discuss the details of your upcoming schedule, wanting you in the lab with Bruce some of the week. You felt a spark of excitement in your belly when he brought up meeting with you a couple times a week to help him understand the nitty gritty details of how the demigod world works.
Steve had been wanting to learn more ever since you first exposed them to everything. He had a little notebook he kept in his pocket, filled with questions that got written down once they popped into his head. Every time he approached you with that little book open in his huge hands, a smile would cross your face, your stomach and chest filling with pride and happiness. You found great purpose in being useful to someone like him.
You finally approached the doors that led to the metals lab Tony and Bruce had been holed up in for a few days now. You had only seen them scurrying about in the dark of night since you brought them your shield and spear, scrounging for food in cupboards quietly, whispering back and forth to avoid waking the super soldiers. You fondly remembered when you had practically made Tony jump out of his skin when you approached, wanting to share in their midnight spoils.
Steve’s hand pulled at the handle of the door, but it didn’t budge. With a heaving sigh, Steve looked up to the ceiling. “Friday?” he asked gently, as if talking to a human being standing a few feet in front of him. Instead of hearing her gentle, accented voice, Tony’s sparked through some speakers hidden somewhere. The speakers squealed and clicked, the volume booming through the hall.
“Jesus, Fri- one moment please,” Tony’s voice boomed over what you assumed was Friday’s intercom system, the speakers screeching one more time before you heard a soft click. There were a few incoherent grumblings sounding off, before Stark’s voice came out soft and clear.
“Been a while since I’ve used this, uh, can Agent Avenger in training report to the metals lab please, and thank you,” Tony’s chipper voice cut off with a small click. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, his voice muttering Tony’s name like a desperate prayer.
“I asked for the newbie, not Captain Tightpants,” Tony’s voice was curt and short. You wondered what happened between them, if maybe Steve said something to set Tony off this morning. You understood they were healing from something that would take time, but you hadn’t expected more than a step back from their forward progress. This felt a lot worse than a step backward.
“Shower before you get in here, I don’t allow body odor in the lab,” Tony’s voice snipped back through the intercom system, making your eyes roll. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s a safety hazard.”
“Tony, let me in,” you groaned, waiting in silence until you heard the soft click of the door. Without waiting another moment, you opened the door, tentatively walking into the bright space where Bruce seemed to be playing with common fridge magnets that were stuck to the face of your old shield. You felt Steve lingering behind you, his eyes glued to Tony.
“Tony, I-”
“No, no. I didn’t ask for you, I asked for our friend here. I’m sure she’ll obediently report back to you when we finish our discussion here,” Tony turned his back on Steve, nonchalantly tossing some kind of wires onto a table that held a bunch of beakers holding solutions with more wires sticking out of them. You ignored them, your gaze shifting between Steve and Tony.
You watched Steve’s gaze turn defeated, his eyes losing that lightness in them from earlier. His shoulders sagged as he tried to approach Tony who was wound as tight as a spring.
“Please, Tony, whatever made you upset-”
“You.” Tony quickly approached Steve, his finger stabbing into the middle of Steve’s chest. You shifted, watching Steve’s unwavering but heartbroken gaze stare into Tony’s that was reeling. You weren’t sure if this was something to interrupt. You felt like your eyes were as wide as saucers, watching these two fight.
“God, Steve, I was so ready to forgive you when you came waltzing in, looking like a caveman with that beard and long hair,” Tony’s words were tight and intense, his voice nowhere near as loud as he had been earlier. “I wanted my friend back, and the rational part of me is telling me that you’ll toss me to the side, lie to my face over and over again.”
Tony licked his lips, his hand dropping from Steve’s chest. His gaze was no longer hardened and angered, but just as heartbroken as Steve’s. He still wasn’t meeting Steve’s eyes.
“I keep having these- these nightmares that you don’t stop, you just keep going and going, slamming that shield down into my chest over, and over, and you don’t listen, you don’t hear me screaming at you, calling out for my friend, my family, and you don’t stop until you bring that shield down on my neck and-” Tony cut himself off, his hand rubbing over his mouth and beard. He didn’t even look like he was on the ground, his eyes somewhere else. Somewhere far colder and harsher than a place like this.
“I just can’t have you here looking at me like that right after I see you decapitate me in my dreams with righteous fury in your eyes.”
Steve looked sick, his jaw clenched to the point the strain could be seen in his neck. You wondered if he could break his own teeth with the force that was keeping whatever explosion of emotions at bay. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and you could see the slight tremor in them. “I always knew it would be hard to make us work, ya know, me being the unstoppable force, and you, the, uh what did Fury call you? The immovable object, that’s right,” Tony paced slightly, his hands itching to fidget with something, reaching out for a wrench or some kind of electrometer at the bench he was standing at, his eyes still far away. Steve’s gaze never left him, the pain ever more apparent.
“Fury knew we were nuclear, it was just a matter of time. We all knew it. We tried our best, pal, I tried to put stuff past me, and I know you swallowed a lot of pride to try and understand me, but it just- it just didn’t work out, did it. Took one man to make us detonate,” Tony muttered.
“Tony-” Steve practically choked, all his effort put into keeping himself together to try and keep this conversation somewhat productive. You watched his guilt eat him alive, chewing him from the inside out. Tony flinched at his name, his gaze shifted down to the table top.
“I’ll never forgive myself for not telling you, Tony. I’m not asking for your forgiveness, especially when I can’t give it to myself…” Steve paused, taking a small step toward Tony. Tony didn’t move, but tensed his body, his gaze frozen to the table in front of him.
“I won’t ask anything more of you. You’re a giving man, Tony, and all I’ve been doing is taking. You tell me to leave, and I will,” Steve’s voice wavered, but his gaze was strong as he bore a hole in the side of Tony’s head. It took a minute or two, but the deafening silence finally was relieved when Tony looked up, his wet eyes meeting Steve’s.
“Just-” Tony sighed, deep and long. “God, how do you still manage to be perfect when I’m incredibly pissed at you,” Tony muttered, the heel of his palm banging against the table, no heat in his gesture or his posture. Not anymore. “Just get out of the lab, I’ll come to your office when we’re done here,” Tony’s head nodded to you. Steve gave him a soft nod, leaving quickly after Tony’s dismissal.
The air was heavy in the room, but Tony flipped the switch instantly, his entire demeanor morphing into something far more friendly when he turned to you. Bruce had somehow vacated the space; he must have slipped out once the fight had started. The tension in the air was probably enough to make him Hulk out.
“Apologies if you have any divorced parent issues, would you even call it divorced parents if your mother was an absentee goddess? Either way, we probably just forced some extra trauma into those demigod neurons of yours,” Tony’s words flew out, giving you a sort of comforting pat on the shoulder. You felt like you got whiplash from how Tony quickly sucked the tension out of the room, making the space feel a lot less oppressing than it did just a moment ago.
You followed him as he waltzed up to your shield, picking off some Disneyland fridge magnets that were stuck to it.
“Celestial bronze is some pretty tough stuff. I took a super heater repulsor to the face of it and it did absolutely nothing which was interesting. Where do you guys get this stuff from again?” A slew of scientific words were spilling out of his mouth at a mile a minute which seemed to be how fast his brain was moving as he thought about everything. You did your best to keep up with him, trying to be as helpful as possible when he started asking questions.
“Well, celestial bronze was first forged in some mountain-”
“How did they even forge it? I blasted a shaving Bruce and I managed to get from your shield with enough heat from a supernova and it did absolutely nothing. Almost blew the top off of this building with how much heat we put on it, we reached up to, what was it, Fri? Four thousand Kelvin?” Tony pulled up a holoscreen that showed some of the data they were looking at.
Your eyes drifted to a video of the Hulk bending your shield. Tony’s eyes must have been watching your gaze, “Sorry about that, we were doing a bend test, and we were pitting it against vibranium. The shield did in fact bend under the Hulk’s strength, but he really had to put his back into that one. I managed to put it back into shape, but it kind of looks… oblong,” Tony tilted his head, peering at the shape of your shield.
You had to admit that when you also tilted your head, you swore you could see a hint of where the Hulk had bent it.
“That’s okay, I don’t really need it much anymore, but uh- yeah, celestial bronze was smelted with a special, Greek type of flame. I can’t remember the name of it, but it was on some island Hephaestus used I think…” You rambled off, listening to Tony as he continued to discuss all his findings being the first mortal to play with celestial bronze. He seemed invigorated by the science discussion, and regained some color in his face after discussing the interesting magnetism properties that he found playing with celestial bronze.
He was playing with the old fridge magnets to show you that when he looked at the alignment of the metal’s atoms, they were aligned in a rather unique fashion. Normal magnets wouldn’t work, which he showed with a yellowing, dated Malibu magnet that slid off the shield. Tony showed you the makeshift magnets he made with new materials he physically altered the atoms of to match the same alignment of celestial bronze. You found yourself glowing and smiling listening to Tony’s brilliance and pure curiosity when he talked. His passion for exploration was a comfort.
Tony had done nothing short of amazing work in the week that he was babysitting and experimenting on your stuff. He even found time to build some of those magnets into your new tactical suit he was finishing up, which honestly just looked like a pile of rubber off on a distant bench. He set an appointment for you to come back down to the metals lab to see if it could work on your sword.
Tony also seemed to be thoroughly tickled by the conductivity of celestial bronze. He didn’t really get into the details, his attention stuck on something else.
“I was meaning to lead with this, but ferromagnetism easily distracts me,” Tony reached over to a bench top, snatching up your spear in its retracted form. He spun it in his hands, turning back to you. “I’m not sure if this is a normal thing, but Bruce nearly stabbed me with this thing until-”
Tony cut himself off, sticking the point of the spear into his hand. Instead of piercing through his calloused palm, the point of your spear travelled through Tony’s hand without ripping into flesh. The spear point instead seemed to turn fuzzy, almost like water vapor. Tony’s hand quickly waved back and forth through the point of the spear, the metal transitioning into its fuzzy state before his hand reached the point. His eyes looked up pointedly at you.
“Is this normal or have I really been up for 96 hours straight?” Tony’s eyes looked at you curiously when you didn’t show any surprise.
“That’s normal, yes. I forgot to tell you, but celestial bronze can’t be used to harm mortals,” Tony handed the spear to you when you stretched your palm out toward him. With the spear in your hand, you pressed the point of it into the pad of your thumb, drawing a pin prick of blood from your skin. Tony tilted his head, the gears turning in his brain at lightning speed. You wondered if he would be able to figure out some kind of practical use of the metal’s ability to change forms like that.
“So I can’t make a bunch of celestial bronze bullets to put into Dr. Achlys?” Tony mumbled, turning back to one of the open holographics, sifting through sheets of numbers and what looked like calculations. You chuckled, placing the spear onto a nearby table.
“Unfortunately no, Tony,” You sighed, drifting back to his side, your eyes casually drifting over a series of information graphics that Friday seemed to keep pulling up for Tony. You saw a familiar picture that was from the file Steve and the gang had shown you back at the farmhouse. You weren’t surprised Tony had digitized those once he got his hands on them.
“So…” you paused, not knowing where to put your hands, feeling like a slide under a microscope that was Tony’s fervent gaze. “What happened earlier… with Steve-”
Tony’s loud sigh made you stop, looking up at the genius whose shoulders sagged. He looked utterly defeated and exhausted. You wondered if his eye bags were as prominent earlier when you first entered the lab.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, I just- I wasn’t ready to handle Steve today, or at least not right now,” Tony’s hands were shaking, he tossed down some kind of wrench that he was fidgeting. The clang of the metal almost made you jump, Tony’s breaths coming out ragged. You could hear his sputtering heart beat furiously.
“You don’t have to explain, Tony. I know it's- this… it's all really difficult,” You winced, feeling like your words were not what Tony needed. It felt like you weren’t even making sense as you spoke them, your own inadequacies tainting your train of thought to try and be comforting. He was your teammate now, so you felt responsible to at least try and be a shoulder to lean on. Tony didn’t make it known if you were failing to do so or not.
“You shouldn’t have been caught in the crossfire of my anger,” Tony responded, giving you another small pat on the shoulder as he walked by you, collecting a few coffee cups that you didn’t notice were kind of strewn across the small metals lab.
“You’re allowed to be upset, you know. I wasn’t there for any of this, obviously, but you’re allowed to feel mad. Steve was your friend and teammate, and he should have told you,” You spit out, your eyes catching Tony’s. He paused in his steps, a small little smile playing on his lips.
“You aren’t very subtle with your ass kissing, you know,” Tony’s smile didn’t reach his eyes until a laugh erupted from you. It crinkled his eyes, his brown irises radiant when you stared into them.
“Kind of being on your side of things isn’t ass kissing, Tony,” You smiled, bumping your shoulder into his. He seemed to relax a bit, that sinking feeling gone from his posture. He motioned to you.
“Come on, let’s walk and talk,” Tony spoke softly, your steps following his own out of the lab. You two walked down corridors and up a flight or two of stairs, casually chatting seemingly over nothing. You knew it was Tony’s way of analyzing you, figuring you out like some kind of equation or structuring issue in one of his new inventions. He was kind about it, gentle with his words and questions as he learned more about you.
Tony’s presence almost felt like Percy’s; he was all dry, sarcastic humor but with a lot of love put behind his madness. He was an unstoppable force like he called himself earlier in his fight with Steve. His power was a relentless tide, but Tony was more controlled and calculated in his persistence versus Percy’s. Tony was more like a missile, locked onto a target with catastrophic results. Some of those results were directly against his enemies or maybe his friends, but it was also self destructive.
Tony had led you two back to the shared living quarters, his feet taking him to the sink with his hands full of half empty coffee cups. He threw a tiny little disk onto a counter top, a few holograms projecting from the little disk. Friday’s voice sounded, asking Tony if he wanted her to pull up a series of files. With a quick conformational grunt, Friday spewed out the file contents, pictures and paragraphs floating in the air. You looked through the words, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“Did Steve write a report or something for that raid in Alaska?” You asked, feeling like those moments were from a lifetime ago. Tony nodded, coffee cups clinking together as he rinsed them out, leaning over to put them in the open dishwasher.
“God bless him, he wrote reports for every mission he and his gang of merry thieves went on. Even when it was just reconnaissance of some kind,” Tony finished his task, turning back to you. You sat on one of the stools at the expansive kitchen island, both of you illuminated by the soft blue from the holograms.
“Did he just keep a filing cabinet with him all the time?” You huffed a laugh, looking at the pictures from that day. A satellite image of the building was included in the file, before and after photos. There was a clip of the trench you had left when you were tossed across that field by the Chimera.
“He sent them to me,” Tony averted his eyes when yours widened in something more complex than shock. “Oh Tony…” your eyes softened, Tony twitching when he finally looked back at you.
“Don’t give me that look, you’re worse than Rogers’ sad puppy face,” Tony whispered, cracking his knuckles, his fingers tapping along the counter. You felt a familiar twist in your chest, thinking about every time Steve sent a file to Tony. The glow of a screen as he wrote them all out, transcribing them to the computer, the blue light highlighting the harsh lines of his stern brow. You thought of his long hair and beard, how haunted he seemed that he couldn’t even look at reflections of himself in windows and mirrors. You had noticed that subtlety in your first few moments with him.
The files seemed like a life preserve he was throwing out for Tony to latch onto, but you knew it was different. Tony didn’t need saving, but it was Steve who did. Steve would have rather drowned if it meant inconveniencing his friends, but he was shooting out a flare every time he sent those files. He was-
Your train of thought paused. You leaned over the counter as if looking at the details closer would change what was in them.
“There was a casualty?” You asked Tony, hoping he would call you crazy and to get your eyes checked. Tony didn’t seem to be taken aback by your sudden change of conversation, but he just gave you a nod.
“Yeah, that’s right. Fatal wound to the neck, pretty sure. Steve didn’t go too far into detail, probably more interested in their weird underground torture chamber,” Tony muttered, shifting some of the screens around to pull up the small paragraph Steve had written about the casualty they found.
You replayed the memory back in your mind, looking at the man dressed in tactical gear, face covered by a black balaclava and a helmet with night vision goggles on top of his head. You tried to remember his eyes, they had been so dull even before you watched their light fade. You stumbled over yourself when you realized how you killed him.
Your spear had gone straight through his neck.
Your panicked face looked up to Tony who had been keeping his gaze intently on you while you got lost in memories. His eyes turned serious, his face twisting into Avenger mode.
“What-”
“That guy- I- I killed him with my spear,” You muttered, a shaky hand running through your hair. Tony’s hands went still, the tapping stuttering to a stop.
“That was a demigod then,” Tony didn’t really ask, your reaction was enough of an answer. He paused for a moment, looking off into the distance. In a snap, he moved into action, his hand gently gripping your arm.
“We’ve got to tell Steve,” He guided you out of the stool, motioning for you to follow him. Shifting gears, you tucked away your panic and followed Tony’s quickened steps. He wound back to the main atrium you had walked through that night after bringing Tony your shield. He brought you up the stairs, taking you through a floor full of empty and barren offices. Steve’s was in the middle of a cluster of higher ups offices, the wall facing the hallway made up entirely of glass.
You saw his hugely broad shoulders sat behind a heavy, oak desk that held piles of papers and manila envelopes. Behind him was a wall that was made of the same dark wood panelling that was down in that room near the workshop Tony made Rhodey’s braces. There were a slew of old, worn picture frames of painted landscapes, some of them dark with smoke and ash, and a few others lit with colors and blossoms. You would have loved to pay them more attention if you weren’t so focused on not spilling your actual guts onto the floor.
Tony ripped open the glass door without a knock, Steve probably having heard your rushed steps and erratic heart beats that were making their way up to his office. Steve lifted his gaze up, keeping his stare entirely neutral as you both walked in.
“We’ve got a problem, Cap,” Tony announced, his gaze following you as you approached Steve’s desk. You felt a flash of a memory cross your thoughts, seeing the distant look of a disappointed school principal, and the worried glance your father sent toward you, both of you sitting in front of the principal’s desk just like this.
You mentally swatted away the memory, glueing your eyes to Steve.
“That raid in Alaska, where you first met me,” Steve nodded as you spoke, urging you forward with an open posture, his hands still holding the notepad he had in his grip when you walked in.
“You wrote in your report that there was a casualty, the man down in that hallway with that containment room. I killed him,” You felt like you were at a confession, spilling your dark secrets to a priest to be rid of the weight they had on you. Steve didn’t follow where you were going with this.
“You had to do it to get the job done. You saved that girl down there from God knows what-”
“Steve, it's not that I killed him, but I shouldn’t have been able to,” You winced, your eyebrows furrowing in pain. That guilt that usually plagued you was twisting like a knife, making your chest and neck ache and pulse with pain. You struggled on, looking at Steve’s confused but worried face.
“The weapons I use- they are special materials for demigods. They can’t harm mortals,” You felt a pinprick of tears wet your eyes. You used every piece of willpower you had to keep them at bay.
“So he wasn’t mortal-”
“He had to have been a demigod like me.”
The weight of the situation dropped onto Steve like an anvil from the sky. “So she is using demigods as her man power,” Steve stood from his desk, immediately sifting through piles of folders, pulling out a particularly thick one. He opened it, pulling out that file full of pictures of demigod blood and celestial bronze weaponry.
“Tony, I need you to look at these again. You were looking at celestial bronze and its properties, could it be used as a power source for a machine like this?” Steve pointed to the drawing he had of the machine they had found that looked like some torture fish tank. Steve didn’t give Tony a moment to respond, immediately turning to you.
“Is there a way to put that camp on lockdown? Protect whatever demigods haven’t been kidnapped or turned to help the doctor’s cause?” Steve asked, leaning over his desk, his hands splayed out on the glossy wood.
You nodded, “I can get word to them fast. The school year hasn’t finished yet, but we can make sure they get escorts to camp, or keep tabs on everyone,” You spoke, immediately itching to get to your room to grab a drachma. You’d have to send a few Iris messages to the Greek and Roman camps, unsure if Dr. Achlys knew about the Romans or not.
“Unless she found a way to melt this stuff down, I can’t know for sure what this even is Steve,” Tony grumbled, frustration evident in the way his face wrinkled and frowned when he looked at the drawing.
“Then we’ll have to go back there. I’ll tell everyone to suit up. We leave here in twenty,” Steve gave both of you a pointed look, his words a clear dismissal. All three of you left Steve’s office in a jog, Tony turning down a corridor to wherever his suit seemed to be. Steve shouted to Friday to get the team notified, an alarm sounding off through the whole building. You could hear flurries of movements once you were back up on the living quarters floor.
You ran down the hallway, tumbling into your room to frantically search for that maroon backpack. You found it tucked under your bed, your shaky hands quickly unzipping pockets to reach for the drachmas. Once you had them in your hand, your eyes drifted to the Starkwatch that was sitting on your night stand.
Tony had given it to you a few days ago, going on about being an Avenger requiring licensing contracts and agreements for only promoting Stark tech items. You had given him a quick laugh, thanking him for it. Out of habit, you avoided it with that buried intuition of using the internet or technology like this equalled bad guys after you. This time, you reached out for it, clasping it around your wrist.
“Friday?” you called out, unsure. She responded back with a greeting from your watch, her voice sounding comforting and calm despite the alarm echoing off in your room and the hallways.
“Can I get a line to Tony?” You asked, wondering if that was something she could even do. Without another second’s thought, Tony’s voice came through.
“Miss me already? That was fast-”
“Tony, do you have a fountain somewhere or waterfall, I don’t know, something with water outside?” You asked, the feeling of panic overriding any embarrassment you would have originally felt for asking such an off base question.
“Yeah, there’s one outside in the alcove I designed for Wanda. Why, you the witchy type?”
Notes:
hopefully steve and tony's fight wasn't too toxic idk I'm not that mentally stable myself so yeehaw
more steve content soon
sending smooches
Chapter 11: I Go On My First Mission with (Half) the Avengers
Notes:
hi
im so sorry for being gone you'll never guess what happened.
the curse got me. I got double lung pneumonia. BUT I LIVED. So I'm back on the grind. If I can work my full time job, then I can update this story goddammit.
Anyways, love y'all ur too good for me
(also I didn't grammar/spelling edit this so good luck)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The alcove Tony had designed for Wanda was eerily beautiful and nestled under a canopy of trees that shaded the entire area. The small fountain was softly bubbling, intricate carvings and runes etched into the stone of the basin. There were a couple of stone benches on the edges of the circular clearing that was on the edge of the woods that surrounded the campus. Small willow branches hung down and softly blew in the breeze.
It was clearly meant to be a place of peace for her where she could find quiet and rest. You wondered if the specific runes or carvings in the fountain were tied to Sokovian culture, or if they were something else that had deeper meanings for her. The sun barely peaked through the leaves of the thick trees, almost making the unrecognizable designs look menacing.
Your fingers were delicately tracing the groves in the stone when you were talking to Nico through the Iris message, warning him that demigods were in far more danger than first realized. Nico didn’t outrightly show his worry, but you could see it in the lines of his face. He was already scheming and building plans to confirm with Chiron to keep campers safe until the summer when they could get to Camp Half Blood. Before you ended the message, Nico had warned you that Percy and Annabeth already kind of knew of the situation.
When he told you, you felt something like betrayal. You didn’t have any logical basis to feel such a way since it was definitely necessary for those two to know about the Dr. Achlys situation. Yet, you felt the pain pearce your gut and your anger rise like bile in your throat. You choked on your anger, muttering quick goodbyes and a “stay safe”. You didn’t know why you became angry so quickly. It was necessary for him to tell them, but it felt like he was toddler, running over to your caretakers and tattling on all the ways you fucked up. This whole situation felt like another failure, tainting the image of yourself. You had to shake away the thoughts.
You were facing the mental block of sending the Iris message to Percy and Annabeth. You shouldn’t feel so paralyzed by it since they were friends, family more like, but you hadn’t spoken to them in a long time. You didn’t want to face your shortcomings because you should have been speaking to them much more than you had been, but you decided to face all your childhood trauma when you were well into your 20s. That trauma made you riddled with guilt, crippling your ability to handle a conversation with them without thinking of all the sacrifices they made, and the ones you didn’t.
But you didn’t have time to waste.
You flipped the coin into the misty vapor produced by the fountain, a ray of sun peaking through the canopy to shine on the vapor. With a quick prayer to Iris, a ripple went through the rainbow vapor, Percy’s fast appearing clearly in the mist. He didn’t look pleased, his eyebrows furrowed. You could tell by the wrinkles of his shirt that his arms were folded tightly across his chest. You knew he was tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for your excuses for not calling in two years. You were dumbfounded, and everything you wanted to say that you practiced in the few minutes leading up to this were frozen in your vocal chords. No sound coming out as your mouth hung open.
“No hey, hi how are you, Percy? How’s your wife, you know, my half sister-”
Words barely sounded out of your throat, “Hey, hi, how are you-”
“Oh my gods don’t even start with me,” Percy’s hand flew up to his face, squeezing the bridge of his nose. After a moment of just hearing Percy breathe aggressively through his nose, his eyes met yours again. They looked much softer, even sad looking. That familiar guilt rushed over you like a tidal wave seeing his face look so empty. Your fingers dug into the stone of the fountain, willing the tears building in your eyes to not fall.
“I don’t get why I have to hear about all this from Nico, and not you,” Percy looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something. You willed your courage together, your hands shaking as you faced one of your loved ones that you disappointed and failed.
“I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you-”
“It was like watching the sky fall in DC on the news all over again,” Percy muttered, his hand scrubbing his face. He looked too tired for someone living peacefully in retirement in New Rome.
“Hey, I called you that time to tell you I was okay,” You couldn’t help the little smile that spread across your face. Percy huffed a laugh. “Yeah, you did.”
“Where’s Annabeth?” You asked, hoping she would appear too. You missed her despite your avoidance. Grief was a fickle thing and handling it wasn’t your strong suit. You knew you failed her and Percy over and over, so facing them felt like reopening their old wounds. It wasn’t until you heard Percy’s voice that you realized that maybe they just loved you and worried.
Percy sighed, “She’s talking to Frank and Hazel right now. Nico warned us about your prophecy, and he basically told us everything you just told him a couple minutes ago. Annabeth ran off to start putting this place on lockdown.”
You winced, looking down at your fidgety hands. You were grateful for Nico, always doing most of the heavy lifting when it came to things like this. It made everything a little easier without having to rip through excuses and greetings to get to the meat of why you needed to talk to Percy.
“So, the Avengers huh?” Percy was trying to get you to open up on your own, trying to break through your shell that you built around yourself after not having seen him or Annabeth in a long time. It always worked, just hearing the resonance of his voice was enough to get a dose of sweet relief from everything pressing down on you.
“Yeah, it sure is something,” you smiled, grinning down at your hands, your nails looking a bit gnarly where you picked at them, bits of stone particles stuck underneath them. Percy snorted, his gaze looking a bit kinder.
“It’s a good look on you, the smile and everything. I figured you’d actually become Batman with all your dark and broodiness,” Percy snickered.
“Hey, I learned it all from Nico. This is what happened when you let us become friends,” You wished Percy were here in person, wanting to wrap your arms around his torso and smell the ocean breeze that seemed to follow him everywhere. You missed Annabeth’s fingers in your hair, delicately braiding the strands together. You were always wishing to go back in time to all the good parts. You felt yourself swatting away at the darker memories that were circling in on the nostalgic moments that were floating around in your mind. You were desperate to keep the evil void from tainting those memories that seemed to be painted in gold when you replayed them in the back of your eyes.
“You know we aren’t mad, right? Whatever you’re still holding on to, we will never be mad or upset at you for it. Annabeth’s just peeved that you won’t send her an Iris message every once in a while,” Percy lamented, his eyebrows scrunching in a certain way that only happens when he feels like he’s making things worse.
“I’ll do better, I promise,” You spoke boldly, looking at Percy’s image with an outward confidence that really didn’t penetrate down into your soul.
“Just stay alive. Whatever is going on, it’s clear that you’re putting yourself in a lot of danger. You know who to call if you need help,” Percy’s tone turned serious, his gaze intensely meeting yours. His blue eyes were sparkling, and his skin looked dewy and bright. It was nice to see him looking so healthy and happy.
Your hair started whipping around you, the water vapor holding your Iris message being blown away. Percy’s image quickly dispersed from the disturbance of the water vapor, the droplets blowing away from the sudden gusts. You groaned out loud, wishing the vapor back in place so you could tell Percy goodbye. You turned from the fountain, the canopy of trees billowing as the Quinjet slowly set down in the open field behind you. The back ramp was open, Tony and Steve standing in the opening, looking at you expectantly.
Tony was in his iron man suit, his helmet’s plates instantly pulling back to reveal his impatient face. Steve stood next to him, clad in a different suit from the first one you ever saw him in. Instead of a deep navy, his suit was colored with muted tones of red white and blue, the usual white star in the center of his chest. His hands are resting on his hips, his gaze glued to you as you ran up the ramp, the whirrs of the mechanicals sounding behind you as the ramp closed, sealing the cabin’s air pressure.
“You warn ‘em?” Tony asked, gesturing for you to follow him to the center of the cabin.
“Camp is on lockdown, and all the half bloods in school are going to have uh, security, you could say,” Your eyes drifted around, spotting Natasha lurking behind Clint's shoulder who was piloting the aircraft. Bucky rested in one of the seats, his head leaned back against the cabin wall, and his eyes were gently closed. Everyone was suited up, weapons in holsters and in hands. You felt severely underdressed in your hoodie and sweatpants.
“Here, put this on,” Tony tossed a mess of leather and synthetic materials. You found the sleeves, feeling the little magnets that would be on your forearm once you were in the suit.
“Your sword is here too, Steve risked the mighty wrath of Zeus or whatever when he grabbed it for you. Seemed like the kind of thing to worry about,” Tony muttered, your eyes finding the worn leather of the sheath and belt that held your sword. Tony pointed you to a small corner of the aircraft where there looked to be an anchored medical gurney, locks on the wheels to keep the bed in place when the Quinjet was in motion. A partition slid out from the wall behind you, giving you privacy in the small corner while you slipped into the new suit.
As per the Stark standards, it was perfect. The fit was comfortable, but not loose so the black fabric wouldn’t catch on weapon edges or any environmental factors. You could feel the protective kevlar that padded your soft spots, and the somehow rock hard metal plating on the front of your body that still curved with your body and movements. You wrapped the belt around your hips, slipping the leather through thick loops that were sewed into the leather like material. Your hands catalogued all the pockets you found in the bodice and pants of the suit, a few hidey holes for whatever weapons you decided to put there.
You emerged from the medical corner, quietly stepping between Natasha and Steve that were circled up with everyone in the center of the aircraft, holographic screens pulled up from the table in the middle. It showed satellite imagery of the laboratory they found a while back, and Steve’s report from that day. You eyed Steve in his new suit while you listened to him break down the mission, his words slowly dying away when your attention was entirely taken up by the movement of Steve’s biceps that bulged when he folded his arms.
You didn’t know when this started to happen, when your gaze started to get pulled away from what you were extremely familiar with. Battle logistics and plans were important, and you excelled at them, but Steve had a special affinity for throwing wrenches into your trains of thought by seemingly just existing. Your usual mental logistics stuttered to a halt, your focus slowly getting infested with thoughts and admiration of Steve’s build, his hair, his stormy blue eyes, how large his hands looked holding the stylus that he used to maneuver the holo screens. You noticed the slight wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, wondering if he could even age with the serum, or if those lines appeared on his face due to stress of the job.
You almost choked when those stormy blue eyes obscured your view of the neatly cropped hair at the back of Steve’s neck. You gulped, a bone shuddering embarrassment washing over you just from knowing that Steve could hear every beat of your racing heart and the little sound you made when your throat bobbed. He had caught you, but his expression didn’t acknowledge it.
You were grateful that Steve was still talking, his analytical eyes seemingly dismissing the way you stiffened. “We’ll take a team to bring you into the building since we need you to get hands on the material that was left there. Tony will need to see the engineering on that machine, so Natasha and I will be escorting you two in. Bucky will be on the outside in case we set off any sort of trigger system that lets them know we’re there. Clint will keep the Quinjet up in the air, and Sam will meet us there,” Steve kept his eyes on you when he asked the group if his orders were understood. Everyone murmured their agreements, Tony speaking up to give the team their emergency plans in case things went to shit.
“There hasn’t been any movement in this building since we left?” Natasha asked, her fingers dancing over the holographic screens to zoom in on older sets of satellite images of the building.
“Not that we could pick up with our limited resources, but when Tony put Friday onto it, she didn’t seem to notice anything either. The lab seems to be on some public hunting grounds, so there were a few heat signatures during the spring turkey season in the area,” Steve responded, pulling up the heat signatures that Friday noted, but the paths that she tracked seemed to be winding around the building, giving it a wide berth. You perked up at that piece of information.
“Public hunting grounds? How did they get this building there on public hunting grounds?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing in further confusion when you asked Friday to pull up local county land records. She sifted through the documents in seconds, her voice sounding lightly as she told you she found nothing recorded of a building in the area. You looked to Steve, his eyes staring intensely at the documents.
“Was this place fenced off?” You asked, Steve’s head turning back to you slightly. His jaw was tight, the muscles of his neck tensing. “No, it wasn’t.”
“Can Friday detect animal heat signatures?” Natasha interrupted Tony who was discussing his emergency exfil plans with Clint up in the cockpit. Tony quickly answered, not even turning his head to her. Apparently Friday could track animal heat signatures if big enough, turkeys included. Friday asked Natasha gently if she’d like her to pull up the map she had of only animal heat signatures. With a quick confirmation, the map appeared in front of them, looking like a red and orange halo that surrounded the building. Not a single path she had tracked had wound their way into the clearing where the building was. Somehow, all the animals had stayed clear of the area, not one stepping out of the treeline.
The confusion was clear in Natasha and Steve’s faces, the expression that they knew this information was important, but what it was telling them still wasn’t clear. You didn’t really know what to make of this; you thought perhaps The Mist had somehow cloaked this building so mortals wouldn’t step inside, but that still left loopholes. How did Steve and his group infiltrate the building if other mortals in the area didn’t? How could this entire building be hidden from view if it was just a laboratory that Dr. Achlys used?
Your head swarmed as you tried to reason through possible answers and theories, but Steve took your attention away from you. “Don’t drop your guard. Something’s at play here, and until we figure it out, we treat this mission as full stealth, high alert. This isn’t just recon anymore,” Steve had spoken to the group, his words ripping even Tony out of his conversation with Clint. Steve had a special way of weaponizing the tone of his words; he never begged for attention when he needed it, but he had a way of demanding it.
The air in the Quinjet had grown heavy, Steve’s words making the team set their shoulders as they prepared for this mission in their own way. Natasha had brought you a Glock and a few knives to hide in the pockets of your new suit. “Just in case,” she had said to you, her lips curled in her familiar smirk. Bucky was back in his seat, cleaning a huge rifle thoroughly, his hands gentle in the way he handled the metal pieces. Clint was still manning the controls of the jet, his focus ahead in the clouds. The Quinjet had full autopilot controls, but Clint seemed to prefer piloting the vehicle himself. He told Tony that he was giving Friday a break which Tony seemed to scoff at in humor and delight. He seemed to get all soft and fuzzy when his friends also treated his AI and inventions as sentient and tangible beings that required rest.
You sidled up to Steve, sitting in one of the seats next to him in the center of the cabin. “How are you feeling about this? Nervous?” Steve asked, his hands busying over the holographic screen. His fingers didn’t move as proficiently around the screens like Tony or Natasha, but he was confident in his movements from numerous times of practice.
“It’s been awhile since I worked on a team, I think it was one of my last missions with S.H.I.E.L.D. where I had a decent sized group,” You responded, keeping your eyes on Steve’s fingerless gloves. His gaze was still forward, eyes scanning the information in front of him. The pale blue light painted Steve’s face, making him look sharp and angled. His eyebrows were furrowed, a thick crease burrowed between them. His expression remained unchanged as he listened and spoke to you, somehow still making comfortable conversation with him looking frozen in his state of silent fury.
“Your mission to Sao Paulo?” You quirked your head, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. You knew he would have read your files, but you didn’t expect him to remember something so minimal. It was probably one of your more uneventful missions. “You saw that report?” you asked hesitantly, stiffening a little when Steve’s eyes glanced over to you.
“Of course I did, it was your first op leading the entire team. I know you specialised in tactical ammunitions and often took lead for smaller groups, but you still answered to the team leader. Sao Paulo was a hard mission to run for such a young first timer, and you ran it beautifully. Not a single snag when that group you were after threw a lot of curveballs,” Steve’s fingers stopped moving over the screens when he talked, his expression finally softening from his hard gaze of steel. A small smile spread across his face when he praised you. You felt your cheeks reddening, the heat travelling in splotches. Your eyes shifted down to your lap, unable to keep eye contact with Steve without your whole face changing colors.
“I remember being terrified the whole time. Everyone said I did great, but my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest, and that I was two seconds away from upending our nutrition packs from that morning,” you muttered, shoving your hands under your thighs so they didn’t fidget under Steve’s unrelenting look.
“It’s natural to be scared, especially when you become responsible for all the lives around you,” Steve said, giving you a gentle nod. He said it as if it were an irrefutable fact, something that you couldn’t deny, but it felt like the biggest lie coming from the mouth of Captain America. It was hard separating Steve Rogers from the man in the posters around the S.H.I.E.L.D. locker room. You didn’t know if Steve knew that his likeness was used in a lot of posters like that to “rouse the recruits” Fury would say.
“Were you scared-” “Always.” Steve responded before you could even clarify a specific moment from his history. His stare became far away when he looked back to the screen in front of him. His stalled hands had lowered to the desktop, his hands pressing into the cool surface.
“No matter the mission, I still feel that sinking feeling. It’s not about getting rid of that feeling but appreciating it. I embrace my anxiety because it makes me feel more human. I don’t want to be used to all this violence that I deal and take. That dread is a welcome reminder that I’m not used to violence, harm, and death. I haven’t become a monster who’s numb to it all.” Steve’s words were soft but harsh. His words were piercing and shattered the fragile facade you had built around yourself to make yourself numb. Steve’s words went against everything you had done after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. to protect yourself. You figured becoming numb to the brutality of this life was what you needed, but Steve was showing you an alternative.
“I still get mad at myself for feeling that dread. I get so annoyed when I feel it because after all this time of killing and death, I ought to feel like this is my normal,” You whispered, almost feeling shameful for admitting it to Steve. It didn’t feel like the sort of thing to be confessing to him, but Steve’s expression didn’t change to resentment or disappointment. He looked thoughtful, his head nodding gently along with your words.
“A lot of soldiers feel the way you do. Some agents did too,” Steve muttered, his eyes drifting back to yours. “You’re not alone in the way you feel,” Steve’s words felt like an embrace. One that was tender and kind that held you until you were ready to let go. Your shame simmered away, replaced by gentler feelings. Giving yourself grace was not one of your leading qualities, but maybe one day it would become second nature when you needed it. It seemed like something you could learn from Steve.
You two continued to chat, the topic of conversation becoming less dense and more light hearted. Steve had asked what your favorite color was, telling you that Friday could get your room painted before they came back if you asked. He told you it was one of the more impressive feats he had seen Tony’s bots do, having travelled all the way up from the lab to his room to paint it a nice pale yellow. He did find yellow paint sometimes on some of his older clothes and drips on a dresser, but he didn’t mind.
After a couple hours had passed with you two seated at the center of the cabin, talking about whatever had come to your minds, Clint gave the team a two minute warning. Both you and Steve got out of your seats, getting prepared for the exfil. Clint was going to do a quick touchdown with the jet, so the team didn’t need to put on chutes. You went to grab your shield and spear, but forgot they were no longer on your sides. You had to shake the uneasy feeling that gnawed at you without them, letting your mind focus as you checked the magazine in the glock on your side. Steve had put his helmet on, his arms winding around his head to click his shield onto the magnets on his back.
The team grouped up at the back of the Quinjet, waiting for Clint to drop the cargo door. Bucky had his huge rifle in his hands, his expression looking hardened and dark. Natasha stood beside him, her hair drawn back in a braid. Her expression looked almost bored, and a lot less moody compared to Bucky’s. His gaze drifted to his peripherals, cracking a small smile when she casually looked at her maroon painted nails. With a hum, the cargo door began to open, the team shifting their attention to the mission. With a quick signal from Steve, the team filed out, Tony flying past and up in the air, giving Friday orders for scanning the building. You hung behind Steve, your hand gripping the hilt of your sword, pulling it out of its sheath silently. That energy that usually filled you when you had it in your hands in practice filled your veins, a newly familiar intensity taking over.
With a confirmation from Steve over coms, Clint piloted the Quinjet out of the clearing and up into the air, leaving the team in the deep dark. The dark of night covered the team like a blanket, your eyes quickly adjusting. You could only see the light from Tony’s suit up in the air, casting some light on the team from his thrusters. He was in a stealth version of his own suit, the thrusters eerily quiet as he positioned himself out of sight of anybody who could be inside. Otherwise, it was quiet darkness. You didn’t hear the chirp of crickets or rustling of birds, the forest around the place seemed utterly still. The stars still blinked over head, but otherwise, the place seemed as still as a painting.
The building that housed the lab looked old and dilapidated, the worn bricks of the building turning green from the moss and vines creeping up the walls. Steve motioned for the team to move up to the rusting metal doors, everyone’s boots crunching on the loose gravel that was spread around the front of the building. Tony’s voice sounded over coms.
“We’ve got seven heat signatures in the building- Friday can’t see any recent signs of people arriving so they’ve been here for at least five days. Bringing Barnes up top,” Tony’s suit swooped down to the ground, wrapping a metal arm around Bucky’s waist. With a quick two finger salute from Bucky, Tony kicked in his thrusters, shooting up to the roof of the building where Bucky would be watching the outside. It wasn’t a tall building, only three floors high, but it was a vantage point where Bucky could support on the outside, or infiltrate the building if backup was needed.
When Bucky signalled he was in position, Steve led the team through the doors. It was dead quiet in the building, the shoes in everyone’s suits muffling footsteps on the glossy tiled floors. Even the mechanical joints of Tony’s suit were quieted, and you barely heard the humming of the machinery. Steve led the team, Natasha having shifted to his second position, her gun out in her steady hands.
“Heat signatures are all sequestered upstairs, the lab downstairs looks clear,” Tony’s voice sounded in your ears. Steve quickly led the team down a memorized path, clearing hallways before the rest of you filed in behind him. After winding down a few corridors, Steve led the team into a large, open space, the interior familiar to you from the pictures you had seen. Once the team was inside, you felt like you took your first breath since you entered. You sheathed your sword, the energy it had leaving you once your grip on it had ceased. You whipped your head to Steve, his eyes calculating as he stood still, listening for something.
“Heat signatures, Steve,” Natasha whispered, her eyes looking at him intensely. “I know,” he muttered, his voice sounding almost annoyed that their intel had somehow been incorrect. You weren’t expecting anyone here, and you had the possibility of being wrong. That seemed like a rarity to these people. Had The Mist somehow also altered Friday’s scans? Could it even alter what an AI could see?
Tony seemed to be thinking the same thing, as he spent the next five minutes talking softly back and forth with Friday. Steve’s hand gripped the crook of your arm. You looked up to him, slightly startled with how close his face had seemed. “We’ve got to get what we came for,” His voice muttered, his lips barely moving as he spoke. You nodded, following his eyes to the big machine in the center of the room, the one that had been sketched by Steve.
Tony eventually returned from his conversation with Friday, his helmet retracting back. He looked completely enamored, his gaze hastily glancing over dials and switches. While he was taken up by the machine, you were guided by Natasha to where the pile of celestial bronze weapons had been. You followed her around a corner by the huge industrial fridges, but Natasha paused in her steps. You peered over her head, confusion and dread mixing together. The pile of weapons they had found was long gone, an empty space left behind.
“I suppose those weapons were more important to her than we realized,” Natasha’s voice was low and quiet. Her hand holding her glock twitched, and you could feel her annoyance and anger. She was trying to temper it like a seasoned assassin would, but you had a knack for spotting little things like that. You could tell that each set back in this mission was annoying the crew, but they were the best there was. They wouldn’t let things like this keep them from staying alert and prepared. Natasha’s body whipped around, her silent steps making their way back to Steve who stood close to Tony.
Steve’s head lifted, his bright eyes looking at Natasha's. Without words, he seemed to immediately understand what was going on. Natasha and him were linked, their gazes and expressions enough to convey everything they needed to. After the events of D.C. it seemed like they became extensions of each other. Steve and Natasha trusted each other without question, and it was evident every time they interacted. This time wasn’t any different; a multitude of words were spoken to each other in just a moment.
“Human experimentation, right?” You asked Tony once you stood next to him, looking at the grotesque machine. Tony gave you a silent nod, still fiddling some of the mechanical arms. He twisted off one of the points attached to the arms, finding more messes of tubing inside. “It’s like she took blueprints from Project Rebirth and made it ten times worse,” Tony muttered, his voice drifting off as he communicated with Friday about scanning the machine, making his own blueprints of it.
The realization of similarities between this machine and the one Steve had stepped into more than eighty years ago was startling. The mechanical arms looked similar to the type of tubing and insertion mechanics that was in that steel tomb. You had seen copies of those blueprints before, something your dad had shown you when you were young that he pulled out of the archives. Working in one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s off hand labs had its perks, and him being buddies with Hank Pym gave him access to some cool things.
You felt this was confirmation enough that Achlys was experimenting on half bloods and not just using them for man power. Then what was all the blood for? You went to one of the industrial fridges, opening the latch and stepping inside. Packs and packs of blood lined the shelves, not even a single label on them telling when the blood was drawn. No safety measures, so somehow mixing blood types wasn’t an issue. You couldn’t understand it, couldn’t piece together the puzzle. Was this blood from successfully enhanced half bloods?
You heard Bucky’s voice over the comms. “We’ve got a problem, guys,” it was a whisper, barely even there, but you could hear just how serious Bucky was. Just then, you felt a deep rumble that shook the floor, and some of the tables in the laboratory rattled. Everything started shifting and shaking. Steve’s head snapped to Tony.
“We aren’t on any tectonic lines,” Steve was asking for Tony’s confirmation. Tony gave him a shake of his head, his helmet quickly cascading over his face. Natasha looked fierce, her feet planted as the shaking ebbed and flowed. The rumble felt like breathing from the way it rose and fell. “What does it look like out there, Buck,” Steve responded, his voice not even wavering despite his best friend being in possible danger.
“I can’t see shit- it’s not coming from the woods,” Bucky muttered, his voice deep in his register. Steve locked eyes with Tony, “Did you get enough?” Tony seemed to contemplate, his helmet slightly drifting to the side as Friday no doubt was filling him in on all the information he managed to collect from just looking at the thing.
“It’ll work, Cap,” he gave Steve a nod which set Steve into motion. He directed the team, telling Bucky to communicate whenever he saw anything change outside. In the meantime, Tony warned the group that the heat signatures he clocked earlier were moving throughout the building, undoubtedly making their way outside. Without hesitation, Steve and Natasha moved, leading you and Tony out the door, and into the dark hallways. Steve had spoken into the comms exactly what you were thinking; you had no idea if the people in this building had noticed your presence, yet or not. It was best to keep acting like you hadn’t been spotted even with the building rumbling like a volcano.
Gunfire erupted across your comms, Bucky’s rifle sounding off. Steve paused, keeping his voice low as he spoke, calling for his best friend. A muffled grunt triggered Steve and Natasha into action, their quick steps speeding up into a jog. Without a single look back or use of procedural S.H.I.E.L.D. stealth tactics, Steve, Tony, and Natasha burst out the front door, immediately clocking enemies. In the short time between the first rumble and getting outside, two caravans of men in full black tactical gear were positioned outside behind their vehicles, sending shots up to the roof where Bucky was. The three had fallen into easy fighting rhythm, their attacks looking extremely well coordinated, but you didn’t hear any words over the comms except grunting and heavy breathing. The gunfire was pulled away from Bucky quickly, and he descended with ease, scaling the walls until he was down on the ground.
You wanted to join the fray, unsheathing your sword with a thrum of energy or dare you say, excitement. You banked left, using Tony’s fighting momentum to get close. You met your first two opponents behind one of the vehicles, their attention on the flying red and gold metal suit ripping through some of their ranks. With a quick sprint, you closed the distance, the glinting metal of your sword ripping through the air, slicing through kevlar and flesh. Your sword met their legs, as you entered your attack with a slide on your protected shins. They were easy to get rid of since they were not prepared for a close quarters attack with a sword. Metal sliced and jabbed, quickly finishing them off without a single block or parry.
Before you could revel in your victory, a stronger, more thunderous rumble shook the earth, sending men tumbling. Even Steve and Natasha had lost their footing, quickly recovering before anyone could take advantage. Your eyes widened in fear as a sudden explosion blew the old building to pieces. Somehow, a Drakon had burst through the brick and mortar of the old laboratory, unleashing its fury. It wasn’t breathing fire, and its eyes were somehow bound shut, preventing anyone from being paralyzed by its gaze. It was a nightmare, how its claws lashed out blindly, its roar deafening. Steve’s shield was thrown into one of its teeth, knocking a small one loose, but overall, doing nothing but pissing it off. Tony had unleashed a barrage of missiles at it, the explosions rocking the beast off balance, but not piercing its impenetrable scales.
You braced yourself, gripping your sword and sprinting toward your team to help do something to fend this gian beast off. Before you could even reach its savage claws and teeth, a blinding light ripped through the sky, tearing through the atmosphere to the ground. It was a whole spectrum of colors as it burned through the sky, scorching the earth it landed on. “Welcome back, pal,” you heard Tony through comms, watching as the burning light quickly dissipated, revealing the tall and mighty Thor standing on the burnt grass, swinging Mjolnir almost playfully. A smile streaked across his face, his blonde hair billowing. It looked straight out of some kind of perfume commercial, the way he stood there all rugged and muscled.
“Are you having fun without me, Stark?” his voice echoed through the clearing, his laughter loud and full. He spun his hammer, lightning sparking out of its head, sending him into the skies. Without a question or thought, he landed a huge streak of lightning into the head of the Drakon, sending the monster reeling. You stood there, dumbfounded as you watched the god single handedly fight the Drakon that Steve, Natasha, and Tony could barely keep from eating one of them. Intense relief flooded through your bones, watching as Thor took the heat of the fight away from the team.
You took a relieved breath before a hard and heavy body slammed into yours, sending you into the ground. Without a second thought, you brought yourself to your feet, flipping around to keep your body out of your new opponent’s reach. You looked up, meeting dead and empty looking grey eyes. Your brows furrowed, lifting your sword, both of your hands gripping the hilt. Without a twitch, the man lunged, pulling his own sword from his belt, the metal of the two weapons clashing together.
His strength was more than you were prepared for. You put more force behind your hands, keeping his sword from inching closer to your chest. Your eyes were glued to his expressionless face, his mouth not even twitching as he put more force behind his weapon. Your eyes glanced at the swords, your skin blanching when you saw it. His sword was celestial bronze. In a haze of panic, you looked back up to his face, searching for any kind of recognition. You didn’t recognize him, and he didn’t seem to recognize you.
In the split second your focus became split, the half blood used the moment, quickly pulling his sword back to his side, and out for a jab to your side. It had nicked your side just before you tucked into a spin maneuver, using your feet to launch yourself in the air. Your side stung as you went to slice your sword across his chest, your sword quickly swatted away with a clanging strike.
Both of you fought in a fury, the demigod matching you in strength and speed. The energy from the sword kept you from crying out, the horror of seeing dead grey eyes staring back at you enough to cause tears, but you kept going. It was you or him, and for the sake of half blood lives on the line, it had to be him. You heard Steve’s voice over comms yelling, Bucky’s rifle firing, and repulsor blasts. You risked a glance at them, seeing them cleaning up the rest of the men, Thor gallivanting with the Drakon.
You had to focus back on your own fight, the glowing bronze slashing down to your arm. You had moved in time to save your arm, the edge of the sword denied from your flesh thanks to Tony’s workmanship. Without having perfect form, the edge would slip, and the leather would prevent the slice. You roared, lunging your sword not to the body of the man in front of you, but to his knees. You flipped the sword, slamming the blunt edge of the hilt into the man’s knees. It cracked, the joint and bone giving underneath your force. The demigod cried out, his cries deafening and crackling. It made your next movements stutter, as you body threw him to the ground, the back of his head hitting the edge of a nearby vehicle’s hood.
The man rasped and wheezed, turning over on his stomach to get up, but his wounds were too great. Instead of dark blood spurting out of the wound in the back of his neck and head, an oozing clear looking liquid poured out. Its smell was putrid, but the scent wasn’t what made you want to retch. The demigod writhed on the ground, his limbs shaking, but no noise came out of his mouth. He kept trying to get to his feet, but failed, falling back onto his stomach. He kept continuing to struggle as if stuck in a time loop, as if he wouldn’t continue to fail to get back to his feet.
You gagged, watching him, the tears you kept at bay now freely flowing down your bright red cheeks from your exertion earlier. You stumbled, looking at his ragged body, watching the life slowly fade from your half sibling that you had to murder. It was pure anguish that ran through you, digging a hole into your gut. Your bleary eyes looked around, trying to spot anyone from the team, an anchor to keep you on solid ground before you drowned in your own horror.
You paused, watching a man a far distance away from you. He looked different than the others; he wasn’t just in plain tactical black, but he had patches on his chest. You couldn’t make out the symbols, but he was frantically looking around the clearing that became a battlefield. He was holding some kind of golden looking device in his hands. His eyes flitted back and forth between the scene ahead of him and that device.
Eventually, his eyes landed on the body next to you, anger sparking and raging in his eyes. With something like vengeance, he removed himself from his hiding place and stalked toward you. You were too grief stricken to move, more curious about his intentions and the device he held in his hand. Without a second thought, the man pulled out a pistol, aiming and immediately firing toward you. Before you could even begin to plan your move to save yourself from imminent death, the bullets panged off a shield, Steve’s massive body blocking you from the man.
With a grunt, Steve launched his shield with immense power, the shield nearly severing the man in half when it hit his torso. Steve’s eyes looked to you, concern etched in them. Grime covered his face, his blue eyes piercing through the dirt and blood on his face and helmet.
“You hurt?” His eyes roamed, looking for injuries, his hands moving your hair to look at your neck and other possible hiding spots for wounds. Your face was pained, but the nick on your side that Steve noticed wasn’t making your face twist. His eyes were questioning, and you pointed to the body behind you.
“He- He’s a demigod, I don’t know what was wrong with him, but he attacked me and-” You looked to the body that now lay motionless on the ground and your sobs began to hiccup out of you. That strange liquid still seeped out of his head, leaving a pool of it on the ground. Steve stepped over to it, looking at the liquid as he rolled the man over. He looked up to you, sadness in his eyes.
“Did you know him?” His words shook you, but you told him no. You felt like you should have. He was older than was expected which you thought would be easier but it didn’t really. Achlys seemed to have an MO of going after young demigods, but he was at least your age. Powerful and strong. He could’ve been at camp when you were in your early and late teens. The guilt strangled you, an iron grip on your neck to choke any sort of self acceptance you had. You should’ve known who he was. You didn’t know if not knowing him was worse than recognizing his face.
Steve nodded, looking back to the body, his hands and body still. You quickly turned, retching your guts out onto the grass. It wouldn’t stop, the watery mess that left you. It came up in quick heaves, and took your sanity with it. Steve’s hand gently rested on your back, slowly rubbing in circles. The heaving burned your throat, and you felt you deserved the pain at least. You killed him when he was clearly not in his right mind. There had to have been some kind of mind control for how dead and expressionless he looked. His eyes were seared into your mind, staring at you with nothing. No feelings at all.
You could hear rumbling in the distance, Thor’s almost shrieks of delight as he seemed to play with the Drakon before he slayed it. Bucky had run over at some point, looking over to you and Steve with worry and sadness. Clint had been speaking over comms, discussing next steps for clean up and exfil. You weren’t really paying attention to anything really, but you could tell the team was circling up around you. You wanted to scream at them to go away, not wanting them to see you so undone by this.
Once your dry heaving stopped, and your sobs of pain had slowly died into whimpers, you slumped against Steve. The exhaustion hit you like a freight train, your body giving up as your head hit Steve’s chest. Without hesitation, his arms wrapped around your frame, cradling your head in his bare hands, his gloves having come off at one point or another. His skin was warm, and it was enough to lull you into some kind of sleep or stupor. You heard concerned voices around you, soft voices and one booming one who seemed to be shushed when approaching you.
You felt your body wrapped in a strong pair of arms, hands holding you gently. Your head was still resting against a strong chest, a steady and consistent heartbeat being the final melody to the lullaby that helped you descend into sleep.
Notes:
SURPRISE thor is here <3
hoped you liked our reader girl here who is always goddamn guilty about EVERYTHiNG
I just can't help myself but write our reader this way idk what it is but ya know
Chapter 12: I Find Out Everything Is So Much Worse Than I Thought
Notes:
hi honey bunnies-
I'm so sorry once again for my very late update, but I'm moving soon! like in 12 days soon, so you might not hear from me for a bit as I get prepared for my big move. I still think about this fic all the time, so never fear.
WE GONNA FINISH THIS BITCH it'll be like 20 more chapters but we will. also I didn't grammar or spell check. Are you sensing a theme?
I keep adding more to the lore of this story too, cause I love me a good plot. This chapter is very heavy, but don't worry the sun will shine on us again.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The air was getting too thin.
You were gasping for air as you fired bullet after bullet across the flying tarmac, struggling to keep yourself upright as the helicarrier rose higher and higher with its brethren. You could see the other helicarriers in your peripherals, the Falcon flying between them, dodging fire from airborn quinjets that weaved around the massive battleships.
You and your two friends had been on your way to the helicarrier launch room when Steve Rogers’ voice echoed throughout the stilling traffic in the hallways and atriums of the Triskellion. All three of you had stopped in your tracks, listening in quiet horror as Rogers revealed the truth of S.H.I.E.L.D. and how its roots had been poisoned by Hydra for years. You three women looked at each other with wide eyes, not considering each other to be devoted to the enemy, but silently communicating what you all knew had to be done. You each had been assigned to different teams on Helicarrier IN-03, so you would be three trusted allies fighting to gain control of the battleship.
Rogers’ rousing speech had sparked a revolution of its own in the hallways. The main atrium outside of the launch room erupted with gun safety’s clicking off, magazines loading into pistols, and barrels aimed at heads. All three of you unholstered your weapons, watching as Brock Rumlow and a few members of the STRIKE team entered into the launch room. Once the door behind them clicked closed, your group and other agents in the atrium sprinted in the direction to the elevators and stairwells, hoping to make it into the Insight hangars to somehow stop the helicarrier launch.
You had watched agents fall, bullets finding heads and stomachs as helicarriers were boarded. You and your girls made it onto IN-03 safely, taking out STRIKE team members along the way. All three of you took Rogers’ speech well to heart, making it your own personal vendetta to make any Hydra loyalist pay with blood for this evil plan. It was pure hatred that burned in your chest, your heavy lidded eyes seeking out their insidiousness like a predator seeks out their prey. You were malicious and unyielding, even when the turned agents begged for your mercy.
Your friends didn’t blink as you killed your way through the carrier, blood staining your hands and forearms. Your dress shirt was filthy, and your pencil skirt was beyond saving. You had kicked off your heels at one point, trading for a pair of boots and socks from some dead body lying in the hallway. With a newly attained automatic rifle in your hands, you made your way to the tarmac, chasing a STRIKE member that escaped your grasp. Now, you’ve been in a firefight with the agent; he had grazed you with a missed sniper shot to your head, the bullet catching part of the outer shell of your ear, taking flesh with it. You missed grabbing an oxygen mask when you dove for cover, so here you were, gasping for air and blood flowing down your neck, firing out shots every time you saw his lens glare.
In the blur of everything, you and your friends had been separated and left without a way of communication. They had turned down a corridor to the control bay when you sprinted after the agent. So, when you heard a sharp bang, your eyes went wild as you saw both of them emerge from the huge air locked door, oxygen masks on their faces. You screamed for them to get down, watching in horror as the agent you were fighting found his mark in one of your friend’s temples. You wailed, lunging for her body, wildly shooting in the direction of the enemy sniper. You didn’t know if you hit him or even grazed him because the world began to shudder and shake.
You didn’t know what Captain Roger’s plan was to take these helicarriers down, but all three began to direct their missiles and guns toward each other, emptying their barrels into metal. You held onto your friends' bodies desperately, one alive and one dead, watching as the helicarrier began to tilt, its massive thrusters failing as gunpowder and explosions ripped through the hull. You met your friend’s eyes, seeing tears fall, but a smile remained on her face despite the sure death you two faced. You cried out as you reluctantly released your grip on your other friends now lifeless body, her weight being a hindrance to keeping you two alive. It nearly killed you to let her go, but your other friend’s thundering heartbeat was enough to release her. You grit your teeth as you watched her limp body tumble into the Potomac.
The helicarrier kept tilting, the bow of the ship falling so far that it was inevitably going to crash into the water below. You could hear the metal scraping as it hit the opening of the Insight hangars. Fire was surrounding you on the tarmac, and you could feel it burning your skin. You were screaming for your friend to hang on, her nails digging into your flesh to keep her grasp.
You were barely hanging on, your hand gripping hooks embedded into the tarmac for strapping down the Quinjets, but you could feel your fingers slipping. You looked down and past your friend, knowing the drop down into the river would kill her, but it wouldn’t be enough to steal the life from your chest. Still, the fear hammered at your chest watching as flame and oil mixed with the rushing water that poured into the damaged hangars. You looked one last time into your friend's tearful eyes, but your body ran cold despite the raging flames around you. Her eyes were no longer tearful but lifeless and grey.
Those eyes were not hers, but the demigod you had killed so brutally you had put a hole in his skull. Those dull grey eyes stared back at you, and frightened you down to your core. You couldn’t stop your hand from flinching, your friend’s grip slipping out of your hands. You screamed, watching as she fell into the raging flames.
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Your eyes snapped open, the light streaming in from the windows to your right burning black and blue spots into your vision.
You could feel the dull pulse of a headache, the reverberations somewhere along the base of your skull. You didn’t ache or hurt, but exhaustion made your limbs feel heavy. You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, feeling a needle in the crook of your arm. You went to use your voice, but your throat was dry, making you sit up from your stack of pillows and cough.
A large, gentle hand suddenly rested on your back, softly rubbing in circles. You nearly flinched, not prepared to see Steve once you glanced to your side. Your heart skipped when you saw his eyes, so full of concern and his hand touching you in such an intimate way. You didn’t mind physical touch, in fact you often craved it, but having it come from Steve felt almost wrong. He was your captain, someone who gave you orders; it felt like lines were being crossed by this simple touch. Yet, he kept contact, his hand not pressing into you, but just resting there as if it was a familiar touch that happened all the time. Steve helped you shift under your thick and heavy quilt, offering you a small glass of water that felt cool to the touch. You glanced over at him once you had your fill.
“How long was I out?” you asked, worried about the hours that could have passed with you seemingly dead to the world. All you remembered was emptying your stomach onto the grass after…
“You slept for almost thirteen hours, but Bruce said you were dehydrated. I didn’t want to keep waking you to drink, so I took the liberty of deciding you needed an IV. You didn’t list anyone for your medical power of attorney, so it falls back on the team leader which Tony made me once we got back. I’m sorry I had to take that decision from you,” Steve’s words sounded genuinely remorseful, and his eyes looked at you with that sad puppy gaze. You waved him off, the glass slowly taken from your fingers by Steve’s unoccupied hand.
“I understand, even if it feels a bit overkill,” you responded, your gaze shifting to the line of tubing coming from your arm. Steve’s mouth slightly downturned, what you thought almost looked like disapproval.
“Your metabolic rate isn’t the same as a normal human, so you needed rehydration or you’d be feeling a whole lot worse,” Steve spoke as if he were lightly scolding a toddler, his tone sounding like this was the most reasonable thing in the world. You shrugged it off, a small, forced smile playing on your lips.
“What happened after I passed out? Is everyone okay?” You asked, unable to rid yourself of the feeling from your dream from earlier. The memory clung to you like grime, and you wished to drown yourself in a tub full of suds and boiling hot water to scrub it all away. Steve’s hand didn’t move from your back, but it stilled, his fingers resting on your upper back. “Everyone’s fine, if anything, just some minor cuts and bruises. Since we got back, Tony has been working in the lab relentlessly. He’s gone so far as threatening to uh, shoot me if I tried to carry him up to this bed,” Steve looked sheepish talking about Tony. You wondered if Steve used to care for Tony like that, bringing him to bed when the eye bags had grown too big, and the coffee grounds had run dry.
“He found something?” You asked, curiosity and hope lighting up your tired eyes. Steve didn’t return the enthusiasm. He looked hesitant, and his words almost stuttered. He was trying to give you the truth without revealing too much, you could tell. You’d think he’d learn from the last time he tried to spare one of his friend’s feelings. Natasha was right when she said he was a terrible liar. “Steve. I can handle big bad Avenger talk, just tell me.” You didn’t ask, but commanded him. Usually, you would feel horrified by your tone towards him, but it made Steve sit up straighter, his hunched shoulders shifting back as his eyes drank in your tired features.
“Tony will tell you the meat of it, but there was a device in that kid. Tony found a way to track people like him that have that device in their brains,” you blanched as Steve spoke, clinging onto trigger words that sparked a new kind of horror in your body. Devices. Brains. This whole thing with Dr. Achlys was beginning to take a new kind of form, a horrible gangly thing that stalked and haunted your thoughts. It kept transforming into something more and more vile with each new piece uncovered in Dr. Achlys schemes.
“Oh gods…” you whispered, your hands clamping down into the sheets. Steve saw that fear, and both his hands gripped your shoulders, turning your torso slightly to face him. His gaze was strong, a life preserver or a strong pillar to lean onto. It was a lifeline to keep you from drowning into a river of fire, so you focused on the feel of his hands on your shoulders. The warmth that seeped into your clothes and into your bare skin was addicting, and you clawed for it, the need for it making you desperate for more. That warmth kept the demons away, and made you forget that lifeless pair of grey eyes for more than a moment. You focused back on Steve, having gotten so lost in his touch that you hadn’t heard what he was saying.
“- we’ll end this, one way or another. But we’ll do it together,” Steve said, and you felt a micro movement in his fingers. He almost inched them closer to your neck, but he refrained. He kept them on your shoulders, his eyes never leaving yours, even when you knew he noticed them go foggy as your thoughts travelled away from whatever he was saying. You gave him a nod, watching his gaze soften.
“What was his name?” You asked, your fingers beginning to shake. You watched as Steve’s face changed when he realized why you were asking; it was as if he could see the guilt gnawing on your insides.
“Damien.” Steve practically whispered it, his gaze falling down to his folded hands now resting in his lap. “Tony found records of him,” Steve paused for a long time. You didn’t know if he was preparing you for what Tony found, or if he too found himself in a puddle of grief, unable to use his tongue.
“He was reported missing when he was barely twelve,” Steve spoke as if the words physically landed blows on him. “Tony and Bruce assumed he had been raised in labs and facilities by Achlys. They estimated his age to be around twenty-nine to thirty years old.”
You dropped your head in your hands, grieving for the life Damien never got to live. He had been too young, too vulnerable, and Dr. Achlys abused that innocence to snatch him from his bed like a babe in the night. Then raised him in a lab, becoming a lab rat which became all he ever knew. You wanted to dig your nails into your flesh, to claw and scream, but you had to be strong for the kids like Damien. The ones that Dr. Achlys stole, because people like her didn’t stop at just one. Through grit teeth, you took one more breath, and looked up to face Steve.
You watched his eyes rake over your heated face, looking at the red marks that your hands left from pressing so hard into your jaw and cheeks. You wanted to vomit seeing the anguish that wrinkled Steve’s face. His lips turned downward, his frown subtle compared to the understanding grief in his eyes. That line between his eyebrows was buried there again, his eyebrows scrunching in sadness versus anger or frustration. You felt so sorrowful that it could eat you alive, and you felt that ugly feeling threaten to spill over onto your bed and into the floor, seeping into the mattress and carpet.
“How about some food before we go see Tony,” Steve whispered, prompting you to slowly kick back your quilt and sheets. Steve rose from his chair next to your bed, standing close as you got to your feet, slipping into a pair of fluffy slippers by your bed. Steve had oh so gently taken the IV out of the crook of your arm, wrapping a small piece of gauze around the hole it left behind. You noticed a full but cold mug of coffee on your night stand, and a small vintage-bound book, a title etched into the cover subtly worn away. Had Steve been there the whole time while you slept? You shook the fleeting thought away, chalking it up to nothing but an intrusive piece of trouble. He was a busy man, and as team leader, you had become his responsibility.
Steve let you lead, his warm body radiating heat close behind you. You swore you could feel the ghost of his hand at the small of your back, keeping you steady as you slowly shuffled into the common space. Your eyes widened a fraction, watching a massive, golden haired man flounce about the kitchen, strong and delicious aromas hitting you all at once. A calming sizzle came from a large pan on the stove top, and a series of chopped things sat on a cutting board.
“How’s lunch coming, Thor?” Steve spoke up from behind you, waiting calmly by your side as he directed you to slide into one of the barstool chairs by the kitchen island, a front row view of Thor’s cooking spread. Thor turned, a grin plastered to his face, and his cheeks stuffed full with something.
“Ah, here she is. I hope you’ve rested well, half blood. It's a pleasure to finally meet a child of the greek gods,” Thor gave you a lovely smile, the gesture radiant like a welcoming light at the end of a long and dark tunnel. Despite his easy presence, you quirked a brow. “You know about greek demigods?” you asked, feeling lost in a fog of confusion, as if you missed something you should’ve known. Thor didn’t miss a beat in his answer, his hands busying in his cooking while he spoke to you.
“Of course I do, your gods have interacted with Asgard before, but not on solid terms. Zeus and my father, Odin, don’t necessarily see eye to eye on things, and some nasty words were exchanged the last time they formally met. We were forbidden from interacting with any demigods purely out of pettiness, but I, as of recent, don’t really care for silly rules like that anymore. Since I haven’t been struck dead quite yet, I’m assuming the almighty Zeus doesn’t seem to care much anymore,” Thor smiled as he spoke the last sentence, his grin devilish and spiting. You were happy that someone else in the “godly realm” found Zeus and possibly the others to be just as insufferable as half bloods felt. You contemplated his words for a while, the silence between the three of you not pressuring or weighing. Steve sat near you, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere like yours.
Thor was softly humming as he continued to bustle around, the lightness in his steps making you nearly jealous. You wondered how much loss he must have experienced in all his years of existence; he made it look easy to carry all he had seen, even the things that could be haunting him like shadows at his back.
“It never gets easier, if that is what you're thinking so hard about,” Thor’s deep voice slipped through your running thoughts, easing you out of them with a practiced gentleness. He must have recognized your far away look that you were getting far too comfortable with showing. Maybe the torment of remembering the dead was much more visible than you expected, despite your desperate attempts to hide it. You were an Avenger now, so it felt almost pathetic that something like this could hinder you until you were unconscious and useless.
When one of the strongest beings on this planet has suffered as you have, then maybe perhaps you will survive this. Maybe you weren’t so useless. You felt your body soften, the constant rigidity that kept you sitting up and wound like a spring lost its hold on your spine. You slumped, your shoulders sagging not from the weight of anything but from finally being able to rest. Even if it was just for a moment, the storm raging in your mind had ceased.
Thor’s piercing eyes found yours, his hand outstretched with a large bowl of a hearty stew cradled by his massive fingers. You took the bowl in your hands, savering the warmth that seeped into your fingers, down your hands and into your wrists. You took a deep breath, the flavorful smell making your heart lift up and a smile spread on your face.
“This smells like it will cure all my problems,” You muttered, enjoying your first bite of Thor’s seemingly magical cooking powers. Thor laughed, the sound coming straight from his belly. Lines appeared around his eyes, his irises sparkling with joy. He looked over to Steve. “I like this one, Steven,” Steve reciprocated that bright smile, accepting another bowl from Thor’s mighty hands.
You didn’t know if it was the warmth of the stew, the lightning in Thor’s smile, or simply being surrounded by two dangerous and lethal men that were far gentler and kinder than the world they lived in made your weariness fade. Not even the dead that marked your very soul couldn’t taint the purity of this moment. Sun was streaming through the windows, painting everything golden. Maybe things would be alright with people like this on your side.
______________
Tony had found you three about two hours later than you were expecting. You were sure Friday had immediately alerted him the moment she understood you were awake, but he seemed to let you take your time coming back to the world. His patience waiting for you must have been worn thin by the way he angrily stomped across the open grassy field, his blue tinted glasses hiding most of his annoyed features.
Earlier after the meal, Thor had taken it upon himself to keep you company, your thoughts never once drifting to the gloom that lurked in the corners of your mind. His hearty laugh, and joyous company had provided you an oasis to quiet all the noise. Steve had tagged along when Thor had decided you needed some sun out in the expansive grassy areas surrounding the buildings. With a quilt draped over his shoulder, Thor led you and Steve out into the edges of the trees, finding a restful spot with shade.
All three of you had sat out there for a while, mostly sharing small stories and talking about whatever seemed to come to the god’s mind. You and Thor were making comparisons on being the offspring of some of the most powerful beings in the world. It was strange to consider Norse gods as part of this world, but Earth had become a different place, a melting pot where even beings from different universes and worlds could come find solitude and a life worth living. Asgard sounded otherworldly, like a place that couldn’t exist in a universe such as this. You told Thor about Olympus, how you had seen it destroyed and rebuilt by your half sister. Thor showed nothing less than pure optimism and wonder as you spoke of it despite his home world sounding far more glamorous than the gods oasis in the sky. Steve had listened quietly to you two talk, mostly keeping his words to himself once your discussions landed on things outside of his area of expertise.
He had his eyes closed for the majority of the time, his head tilted toward the warmth of the sun. Your gaze would drift to him as you and Thor spoke, watching as Steve slowly lowered himself down onto the blanket, so he rested on his back. He looked so peaceful under the rays, his golden hair glowing, and his hands softly splayed against his stomach. You could see the rays evaporating all the stress that Steve carried on his shoulders every day. He cared so much for the people around him, so much so that he had stayed by your bedside as if you were a veteran Avenger that deserved his company. It was clear he took his role as team leader very seriously by the way he checked in on his team members often, even if it meant possibly getting a repulsor shot near his head. You knew that the stress and anxiety from Tony’s anger had taken up most of Steve’s thoughts whenever he wasn’t filled out by his Captain persona.
When he was just Steve, you could see the worry eat him up like the guilt that spread in your chest. Perhaps it was guilt too that Steve carried; something raged like tidal waves in his stormy eyes. On days like today, the blues in his irises looked calm, and less like raging white caps that brought only vengeance. You saw them gleaming in the sun when Steve’s eyelids softly fluttered open, catching your gaze. You felt determined to hold his stare, not willing to shy away like you usually had. It wasn’t some kind of point you felt like making, but something out of respect. Seeing Steve having stayed by your bedside for a while was a kindness you didn’t think you deserved, so by gods you could look at him. Steve smiled, his lips looking almost cherry colored in the sun. You were mentally scolding yourself for even thinking about his lips much less looking at them, but they looked more than tempting in the sun.
That’s when Tony had stomped up to the group, his arms folded across his chest like an angry parent whose child had been caught playing hookie. “You forget to bring her to the lab, Rogers?” Tony’s voice was biting and accusatory. You watched that calm sea in Steve’s eyes shift, the waves beginning to rage. The worry and fear was building in him, and his muscles tensed as he waited for an onslaught.
“Kid, we gotta talk, let’s go,” Tony’s gaze switched to you, motioning for you to follow him back up the small hill to the main building. Thor bellowed something behind you, and you heard him lurch to his feet. Thor greeted Tony heartily, wrapping him up in a spine snapping hug. Tony’s face was shocked as his arms got pinned beneath rippling golden biceps. Tony looked stiff straight, but slowly warmed to Thor’s touch as he grinned and continued to ask him about his work in the lab.
“And make sure you’re sleeping, Stark. I don’t want to threaten putting a hole in the roof of your laboratory again, but I’ll consider it if you aren’t in bed at a decent hour,” Thor’s grin made his threat seem empty, but it was enough for Tony to begrudgingly nod his head.
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you buddy- can you let me breathe now?” Tony sucked in some air once Thor released him of his crushing hug. Tony gave Thor a small smirk and a pat on the forearm as a dismissal. Thor seemed to have softened Tony’s attitude, melting the ice in his voice, for now, he looked at Steve without that anger simmering under his skin.
“You comin, Cap?” Tony asked, reaching a hand out for Steve to take. There was a millisecond of hesitation from Steve, a small moment where he looked at Tony’s hand as if it would electrocute him the moment their skin touched. Steve looked up to Tony, letting his hand rest in Tony’s callused palm. With a quick yank, Tony had pulled Steve to his feet. They stood close to each other, relaying some kind of conversation in their intense gazes. A common trait that seemed to come with being an Avenger.
Without Tony or Steve saying a word, the group slowly made their way back into the building. You missed the feeling of the sunshine once you all walked back indoors, feeling the artificial air conditioning blast into your face. You felt the tendrils of dread creep into your stomach when the lab door came into view. Stepping into the cool air and bright lights of the lab felt like entering into your own tomb. The door closing behind you felt like the stone rolling over the only entrance, leaving you to suffocate and rot inside.
Tony was already pulling up dozens of holographic panels, shuffling the information on them with quick taps and swipes of his fingers. He was speaking with Steve, but you weren’t really focusing on the words. It all sounded muted compared to the static that was filling your head. You felt a small brush against your shoulder, your eyes catching red.
“Get a tan out there?” Natasha gave you a sly grin, her eyes alight with mischief. You gave her a smile back, relieved to have her next to you. “Not as much as I’d like,” you responded, appreciating the delicate pleats her hands were currently braiding into small sections of her hair.
“You looked cozy out there. Sun looks good on you,” Natasha spoke softly, her eyes finding Steve across the room, her mischievous smirk never fading. Steve and Tony were nearly huddled together, talking quietly. They didn’t look angry at each other, just focused. You watched Steve’s hands reach for something on one of the worktop benches, his fingers fiddling with a thin, metal disc. Even when resting in his large hands, you could tell the disc was the size of a quarter or slightly bigger. It piqued your curiosity, but Bucky’s voice pulled your thoughts away.
“How are ya doin’, kid?” Bucky gave you a thin smile, his metal arm hidden underneath a thick black hoodie. He was swimming in the fabric, but he looked comfortable. His hand of flesh rested on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Better now,” you gave Bucky a nod, feeling content with the kind look he had given you.
“Everybody here? I’m starting whether or not Barton is with us or not,” Tony’s voice sounded off through the space, everybody’s attention now toward him. You failed to notice Rhodey and Bruce entering the room, their presence close to Tony’s side. Sam was here too, leaning against Bucky’s other side, his face looking worn and tired. You wondered how many covert flying missions he had been on before he found the team at the old lab in the woods.
There was a loud clang and a thud, a blur of motion out of the corner of your eye. Nearly everyone jumped besides Natasha, all sets of eyes glued to Clint who dusted off his casual clothes once he got to his feet. He had a wide smile on his face.
“Bold move coming from somebody with an ankle bracelet on,” Sam snickered earning a quick flick to the ear from Clint as Tony spit profanities about his millions of dollars spent on security systems. “Goddammit, Barton,” Tony muttered, kicking away the slatted panel the assassin had to have kicked out to make his grand entrance. “You’re lucky I don’t add this to your list of offenses to, Ross,” Tony added, his gaze back on the blue of his holographic screens, his back turned to the group.
“You wouldn’t,” Clint snapped back, a bright smile still shining on his face. Tony turned his head slightly, giving Barton a look of annoyance. “How do you think you got here without the feds breaking down your door disturbing Laura and the kids?” Tony spoke matter of factly, a small ‘thank you, Tony’ muttered into the quiet hum of the room. “Yeah, that’s more like it, pal,” Tony sassed back, a small smile playing on his face.
With a sense of finality, Tony blew up a holographic screen so it nearly took up the entirety of the blank wall holding the blast door. The lights of the lab automatically dimmed, the words and information housed on the blueish screens coming into focus. The dread from early had simmered away from the comfort of familiar faces, but it boiled once again, seeing a picture of Damien’s face straight out of first grade. All crooked teeth and freckles.
“Our guy here, Damien, was kidnapped by Achlys. She took him sometime in 2000 if not a bit earlier, so we assume he was raised as a lab experiment, one of her guinea pigs for god knows what,” Tony spoke, his feet shuffling and hands fiddling behind his back as he jumped right in to the meat of the information he found. You watched Tony’s mouth mutter something, Friday responding by shifting around panels in the holographic screen. She pulled up a scan of that metal disc you saw in Steve’s hands earlier.
“Some point along the way, her predecessor or lab experiment, died. She killed him,” Tony’s words were sharp and pointed, piercing your gut despite the confusion marking yours and everyone’s faces. Steve remained impassive, his jaw clenching. “Somehow, she didn’t let this mistake stop her, because this little plate-” Tony motioned it forward, the disc’s blueprint taking up the entirety of the screen, “was what kept him, somewhat, alive.” Tony’s dark eyes met everyone’s in the room. He looked over to Bruce, the quiet man stepping up and out of the shadows of the dark lab.
“Somehow, Achlys kept Damien’s brain functioning with this disk. It’s made of the same metal our new friend brought us, the celestial bronze. It’s able to direct electric charges, so she used this disk, which was connected to thin, celestial bronze wires that were mapped throughout Damien’s body, technically shocking his muscles to contract when he needed them to. Almost like a metal nervous system,” Bruce looked around the room, seeing if people were following along with him despite the complex ideas he was talking through.
“We think Damien’s brain was fully functional, but somehow, his organs weren’t functioning. She essentially made a super soldier that doesn’t need to eat, sleep, or produce excrement. He didn’t have deep, logical thought, but was able to understand and process orders, still use the majority of his senses and more. There was a black box at the base of his spine, likely the battery producing power to send electrical charges through.”
Tony interjected. “She also drained him of all his blood. We don’t know if she took bits at a time like a normal blood donation, or took it all in one go. We don’t know what she wanted with his blood, if there was something in it she needed, or what. She didn’t follow standard CDC guidelines for labelling blood, cause why would she, so we have no idea if all that blood was Damien’s or others, or if it held anything more. We have a feeling it’s others, since I was able to make a tracker for people with these disks in their heads.” Tony’s expression turned grave, his hands almost shaking as he shoved them into his pants pockets.
Friday pulled up a map of the U.S., and there was a sickening amount of glowing lights, congregated in four different spots on the map. Your hand reached out, gripping Natasha’s fingers. You felt her squeeze back just as tightly, wishing like hell for her touch to be enough to keep you standing.
“She has a whole platoon of guys like these, probably more powerful than Damien since he seemed to be one of the first kids she took, so he was perhaps a trial run.” Tony looked mournful, the color leached from his face and the blue tint of light making his face look gaunt. You couldn’t tell if he had seen a ghost or had become part dead.
“The clear fluid-” Bruce cleared his throat, his gaze stuck on a bench top in front of him, “The fluid was similar to embalming fluid. It had more elements in it to probably keep the brain healthy- I just.” Bruce paused, a hand rubbing at his face.
“I don’t understand how she’s manipulating the brain with just electric shocks, we didn’t even find coding in the black box on the spine, I-I can’t figure it out,” Bruce looked sick.
The air had been sucked out of the room and replaced with the stench of death. You heard screaming in your ears, felt fire lapping at your limbs, and smelt blood and ash. You closed your eyes, begging for the demons to stop eating you alive. When you opened them, Bruce’s grave eyes were looking directly at you.
“That smell that came from him when you uh- for lack of a better term, put a hole in Damien’s head, that smell was his organs slowly rotting. Damien had been physically dead for nine years.”
Your breath shuddered as your whole body went taught as if struck by lightning. You were done praying to your mother and the gods, but you almost found yourself sending them a plea of help. You swallowed, somehow managing to keep the rising bile in the back of your throat. You felt Bucky’s hand squeeze your shoulder, Natasha’s slender fingers wrapped in yours. You held onto those feelings, opening your eyes to face the works of pure evil.
Your eyes had found Steve’s immediately. His face almost looked panicked, the way his hands rested on his hips, and his eyes filled with concern and worry. His mouth was parted, but he didn’t seem to find the words he wanted to say. In a summon of all your strength, you spoke first.
“What’s our next move, Cap?”
Notes:
HAHAHAHA PAIN :D
as always feel free to leave me some comments, I see them ALL. trust.
Chapter 13: I Punched Captain America as a Form of Self Care
Notes:
HI LOVES
I'm back and finally finished moving- we couldn't get my computer set up for a while since I didn't have a desk, but she's up and running now!!
I missed y'all so much!! I hope you'll like this one hehehehehehe
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Steve’s jaw set, his panicked eyes hardening in their gaze toward you. His rounded shoulders straightened like a string was pulling his spine straight. His face almost held something like pride when you kept yourself together, pushing past the pain and horror that was threatening to suffocate you. You couldn’t let this break you down if you were an Avenger; you would take the blows in stride while you and your team planned to save the world. Steve gave you a curt nod, his look now addressing the rest of the team surrounding the room.
“Achlys is massing troops, and these demigods are going to be her muscle. We’re assuming Damien was one of her first successful soldiers, so expect any others we encounter to be stronger and faster. We don’t know all the enhancements she’s done to them, but expect them to be heavy hitters,” Steve enhanced the map, showing satellite imagery of each of the four locations where most of the trackers were congregated.
The four groupings were spread out across the country in varying locations. One group of trackers was located in a remote looking area in Montana, and another set all the way along the coast of Maine. The locations seemed random, the only connections being that each spot was quite remote. It gave you some semblance of peace, knowing dangerous, mind-controlled half-bloods weren’t walking around populated areas, kidnapping more kids or causing harm to anyone in their way.
“We need to figure out how she’s melting this stuff down, and fast,” Tony spoke up, his pacing resuming, his hand rubbing at his bearded chin. “If I can get my hands on this stuff and make it malleable, I can come up with something to maybe interrupt the connection between the black boxes and the discs in their brains.”
Your face screwed in confusion. “Tony,” you snatched his attention away from his snowballing thoughts, his eyes looking at you in wait, “How did Damien stop? If he was already dead, then why did he collapse onto the ground and...stop?” If you hadn’t killed him, then how was he still feeling pain and writhing on the ground?
You twitched, the memory of his inhumane groaning and squelching when he squirmed on the ground still fresh in your mind. You could still see the hole in the back of his head leaking the supposed embalming fluid. He kept trying to get up, but it was as if he was…glitching.
“You severed the connection between the disc and its wires. You technically partially shattered his axis cervical vertebrae, but it was enough to disrupt the connection. The disc wasn’t receiving the power it needed from the black box, so it wasn’t firing the right shocks to the right muscles. His body wasn’t responding in a way to actually make him get up.” Tony replied, his gaze shifting somewhere away from your face.
“How does the disc know what to fire and where? What makes it contract his muscles to get up versus contracting muscles to make him shoot a gun or throw a punch?” You wanted to dig deeper, not necessarily fueled by curiosity. You just had to know. You needed to see all the variables, understand this to the fullest extent so you could do something about it. There had to be something in understanding this device that would provide a weakness, a failsafe perhaps to release these half-bloods from Achlys’ control so they could be put to rest.
“That’s what we’re still wondering, kid. That black box doesn’t have any coding or motherboards in it to provide the knowledge, all it has is a receiver and power,” Tony paused, his whole body turning rigid. Steve was slightly leaning against a table opposite from Tony, but when his gaze landed on the man, he slowly unfolded himself, his eyes fixed to him. This was a genius at work, and before anybody in the room, even Bruce, could get a semblance of where the man’s mind was going, he moved. He was mumbling things to Friday, the holograms at the front of the room rapidly shifting to whatever Tony needed to see.
“Tony, what is it,” Steve commanded more than asked, coming straight to Tony’s side. His broad shoulders towered behind Tony’s, his eyes looking over the scientist’s shoulders, trying to keep up with all the information Tony was sifting through. Tony flinched from Steve’s sudden presence, whirling around to reach for a black box that rested on the same table that housed the bronze disk. It was barely bigger than the disk, the box almost the size of a Lego brick. You wanted to gag, knowing Tony had to pull that off of Damien’s limp and rotting body.
After a few more moments of people in the room shifting, waiting for Tony to voice his thoughts, Tony held a gleaming smile on his face. “Gotcha,” he whispered, his eyes slowly tearing away from unintelligible code on the holographic screen in front of him. His eyes looked to Colonel Rhodes, then Bruce, then to you.
“The black box wasn’t just a power source, it translated code it received into electrical current it sent up the spine and into the disk,” Tony spoke as if the words were only meant for you, and that you could decipher them. As smart as you knew yourself to be, you couldn’t follow the conclusion he seemed to hope you would find. He huffed, almost in disappointment.
“A receiver? Someone had to be sending codes to the black box right? That means there’s a piece to the puzzle missing; they have a device that either creates the codes or sends premade algorithms to this box which causes the disk to carry out exactly what they want whether it's tossing a punch or getting up off the ground. You follow?” Tony raised an eyebrow, watching as the wheels turned in your head.
You had the revelation in your mind. You dug into your memories, finding the one that held the image of the man in the clearing at Achlys’ abandoned laboratory. You could hear the Drakon’s roar and Thor’s jolly laugh, and the rage that fueled that man’s eyes when he looked at you. That golden device was in his hand, the one that Tony must be referring to. The controller that sent codes, so the man must have been Damien’s handler of sorts. Maybe he was attached to the demigod, because the raging fire in his eyes wasn’t out of anything but pure grief and spite. He knew you kind of killed him, so his last act would be shooting you in the head for it. Only Steve had saved you from that fate.
When you looked at Tony again, he nodded, seeing the recognition in your expression. “There she is,” he muttered, his attention turning back to the screen, repeating himself to the group to make sure they followed and understood all the necessary details.
“This is why we need to get that Lemnos fire you mentioned a while back- if Achlys can make all this with celestial bronze, imagine what I could build with it. We could end this before it gets any bigger,” Tony spoke up, his eyes boring into you.
“Tony, I don’t even know where to begin. The stuff we had back at camp was found in the bunker and Leo used the last of it. I’d need time to come up with a lead, but even then, it would be dangerous,” you rambled off, the stress of the situation evident in each word. You ran your hands over your face, a slew of thoughts passing through your mind at once.
“If we do this, you guys will likely encounter more monsters like that Drakon from earlier. Without Thor there…” you trailed off, looking to the mountainous man standing off to the side. He glanced at you, a gentle smile on his face. Natasha’s snort made you whip your head to her.
“You didn’t think we could handle that?” she smirked, bumping her shoulder into yours.
“Yeah, Nat, we totally had him,” Bucky’s voice sounded, dripping with sarcasm. His sly eyes looked to you and Natasha, a meager attempt at a smile on his face. Despite trying to lighten the atmosphere of the room, even Bucky had limitations to his charm. Even Natasha’s smirk was fleeting, her lips down turning in the blink of an eye.
“How bad could it be? Evil lair in a mountain kind of bad or army of Drakons?” Tony snarked, a mischievous smile absent from his face. Despite his joke, his face remained grave. It was obvious that the weight of what was being done to literal children was nearly crushing him. It had snuffed out any flames of hope, poisoning the air with fear and dread, and everyone’s faces reflected that.
“Wherever it is, it won’t be easy, and now that your minds are protected, that means the gods get free reign to toy with you if they please,” You muttered, watching as Tony’s face turned down further. Steve remained a hardened presence behind him. His face gave nothing away as he turned his emotions to stone. Everyone seemed to take a moment to truly ponder your words, except Thor who just looked bitter every time you brought the gods up.
“Have we even found an angle on Achlys’ end goal? It feels like all we’ve been doing is trying to catch up with a runaway train or play right into her hand,” Sam spoke up, his arms folded in an almost disapproving stance. He brought up a great point that no one seemed to have an answer for due to the silence.
“She defected from HYDRA a long time ago, so she isn’t trying to bring in a new world order like Pierce was,” Steve spoke, his eyes looking toward Sam and Natasha. Bucky flinched when Steve said Pierce’s name, his entire body reflexively shrinking away as if he didn’t want to be seen.
“My mom said The Mist is involved, you know the thing keeping mortals safe from my world.” you clarified, watching a few eyebrows quirk in confusion. “If she’s somehow a threat to The Mist or using it for something then every mortal is at risk of losing their minds or death,” you nearly groaned, thinking about the implications of your words. It was mind boggling to think a mortal could do damage like this to your world. It was madness and yet, it was a very real threat.
In the quiet of the room, Steve called out your name. His words sounded hollow and jarring in the quiet hum of the room. Your eyes snapped to him, looking at him like a strong lighthouse in a thunderous storm. Those blue eyes sharp with determination, having already made up his mind about the situation.
“Make a plan. Even if you worry about the monsters we might come across, we have to get the fire. We will be bringing the whole team for max firepower, but you’ll take the lead. I want it in ten hours,” His nearly stearn expression drifted to the genius beside him, his gaze softening ever so slightly. “Tony’s right. We need that fire if we want a chance to get a leg up on her, and our resident genius is the man to get us there. Whatever it takes.”
Steve’s final words seemed to ring out into the lab; the sound waves permeating through each person in the room. The finality in his statement seemed to be enough of a dismissal for a few. Clint had slipped out, his face screwed in either frustration or anger. Thor had left huffing and puffing, his cape billowing behind him. Bucky, Sam, and Natasha lingered near you, likely sharing expressions with each other that spoke more than words.
You swallowed hard and let out a small breath, thankful for the responsibility Steve had given you. It was a necessary distraction to keep you in the fight and less focused on the tragedy of it all. The quicksand of grief was looming close, and you could feel it threatening to pull you under by the ankles, but once again, Steve was your lifeline. He pulled you out when you thought you were guaranteed to go down with the ship. It almost scared you how easily he had become so vital despite the short time you’ve come to know him. How long had it been? A few months now?
Sam’s reassuring squeeze on your shoulder brought you back to the present, his smile full of kindness and courage. In the time you stood there lost in thought, Natasha had been called over to Tony. The two of them talked in hushed tones while Bruce listened to their conversations thoughtfully. Bucky had escaped to gods knows where, and Steve was still gazing at you from across the room.
You gathered the courage Sam seemingly passed over to you and walked over to your leader, his hands folded in front of his chest. He was casually leaning against one of Tony’s workshop tables, and the dri-fit grey shirt he had on hugged every part of his waist and shoulders. His eyes seemed vacant, and you wondered if you looked just as lost when you got caught up in your head.
“Steve-” your voice made him return to reality, his folded arms slowly loosening so they drifted back to his side, his hands fiddling together in his lap. His vacant stare became filled with warmth. His lips didn’t turn up in a small smile, but his frown was less severe.
“I’m sorry if I came off harshly earlier-” Steve’s eyes looked down to the floor as he spoke, but your gentle interruption brought them back up to your face.
“Never apologize for doing your job. Your our team leader, and I’d prefer you not to be gentle with me when things are going to shit,” You murmured, using far too much willpower to keep your eyes from drifting to the mess of celestial bronze wiring, the disc, and the black box sitting by Tony’s side just a few feet from you. That deep despair sunk like a stone in your abdomen, wondering how Tony managed to get all that wiring out of Damien without wretching.
Steve gave you a thoughtful nod, his blue eyes carrying a softer, lighter gaze. “How much time do you actually need to come up with a plan to get the fire Tony needs?”
You calculated the time in your head, shifting your feet. “Four hours? I’d probably run a couple drafts by you first, and continue with that. I’m assuming I won’t have to go far to get supplies, so yeah. Four hours. I have a few ideas on where to start finding the fire, but I might call in a few favors to get me more solid leads.”
Steve nodded, his gaze drifting to Tony, then back to you. Those blue irises were sparkling once again, the tilt of his lips almost turning up into a smile. “I’ll meet you in the hangar in thirty minutes then.”
With that, Steve straightened from his spot, and gave you a quick pat on the shoulder. His arm brushed past yours as he made his way to the door and out of the room, giving Tony and his small entourage a quick wave when he walked past. Your eyes followed him as he strode out, looking after him in awe and shock. You weren’t sure what he would need you for, but Captain’s orders.
______________
Following Steve’s orders, you found yourself walking into the hangars of the compound precisely thirty minutes later, the lights turning on as you walked into the space. The windowed hangar doors let in golden sunshine as the sun began to dip below the treeline. Inside, the hangars were devoid of any aircraft, but small carts were scattered around in the further hangars, metal parts and equipment strewn about on each one. There were workstations with computers in most of the corners of the space, but otherwise, it was empty besides Steve. Steve had been standing in the second hangar bay, a limp bag at his feet.
He had changed from his casual outfit earlier, now wearing an athletic shirt with a faint Avengers logo splayed across his chest. His dark sweatpants clung to his thighs and tapered into cuffs at his ankles. He had his back turned to you, his hands working at a wrap he grabbed out of the bag, winding the material around his wrists and palms.
“You ready?” Steve asked, his voice ringing into the huge rafters high above you two. You made your way over to him, your eyes roaming around the place to get you familiar.
“You fight in here?” You asked, spotting scorch marks up in the ceiling. Steve chuckled softly, turning toward you just as he finished wrapping his hands.
“More space to fight makes sure I don’t have to keep footing the bill every time someone gets tossed through a wall in one of the gyms,” Steve smiled, a shine to his skin. He must have gotten started already without you, warming himself up for whatever he had planned for you.
“If we’re going to spar, hand to hand isn’t one of my strong suits I’m sure you were told,” You muttered, thinking about the last time you sparred with Bucky. You were sure he and Natasha, everyone who helped in your new regiment would report your results and work back to Steve. It had only been what, two days since you got your ass handed to you by Bucky? You were positive Bucky made sure Steve knew just exactly how lacking you were in that area.
“That’s what we’re here for. You’ve got the best teachers in the world here that are ready to make you better so you can survive on your own if it comes down to it,” Steve’s tone was serious, but he held a small smile on his face.
“No mats? No nothing?” You asked, following Steve as he led you toward the center of the second hangar. There weren’t any walls separating each hangar, but the giant numbering on the floors marked each area and corresponded to the number on the looming hangar doors.
“The enemy won’t give you a nice cushioned fall. Those demigods, Achlys, her crew. None of them want to see you get in her way, and you saw Damien and that man who shot at you. They won’t stop until you're dead. So no. You don’t get mats to fall on.” Steve’s tone sobered, the smile he had leaving his face. His gaze was intense as it landed on you, his eyes looking ferocious and calculating. His face turned to stone as he slowly approached you, making the hair stand up on your arms and goosebumps race down them.
He brought his fists up, which prompted yours to rise. You rolled your shoulders, hoping you were loose enough for this. You hadn’t ever practiced with Steve, only meeting his usual trio in the gym for your scheduled sessions. The fear was there, but you let it simmer, letting your logical mind take over.
Without any warning, Steve began to throw jab after jab. He had closed the distance so fast, that you weren’t ready for the first two. His knuckles hit your torso, but you took the pain, letting it die down in waves. From what you could tell, he wasn’t pulling his punches in the slightest. From his hits to your stomach and now as you blocked his punches, each one sent shockwaves down your muscles, and it felt bone deep every time. You wouldn’t last long like this, and Steve was just getting started. You hadn’t even begun an attack, and you were barely keeping your head above water as Steve threw his fists toward your torso and face.
You grit your teeth as you blocked another punch, your body shuddering from the shocking pain in your forearm. In the flurry of milliseconds you had to respond, you remembered a lesson from Natasha about momentum in fighting. Instead of using your body to fully stop the incredible force behind Steve’s fists, you would simply redirect his momentum. The next fist he shot at you, you slapped away, his momentum pulling him forward. You used the split second where Steve’s attention shifted, and threw a knee into his abdomen that was now open and unguarded. You put all your strength behind it, hearing air escape Steve in a loud huff. He dropped to the floor and rolled, not allowing you to gain any progress from your move.
It almost made you annoyed that he showed no signs of slowing even after a sharp blow to his stomach. Still on the floor, Steve used his speed to knock our feet out from under you with a quick swing of his legs. You had practiced this enough with Natasha to see it coming. You let yourself fall backward, letting your palms hit the floor by your head. Using momentum from your legs, you launched yourself back to your feet, but Steve was ready for you.
Steve continued to toss punches, a few landing once you grew weary. Sensing your growing exhaustion, Steve took advantage and full body tackled you to the floor. You groaned, grasping your hands together behind him to beat on Steve’s back to get him off of you. He didn’t relent, but sat up on your chest, his thighs squeezing the sides of your chest. He drew back for a punch that would land a devastating blow to your face, but you held your arms out and caught his fist in your hands. You grunted, trying to hold back his force, but his might was beyond compare.
Your arms shook trying to hold his knuckles back from your face and now you knew he wasn’t using his full strength. It was almost mind boggling how strong he was. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it as your eyebrows screwed in worry, watching as Steve pushed his fist into your hands, moving closer to your face. You wouldn’t be able to hold back his full strength, but Steve was still making you work for it. He pushed further and further, until you felt like your arms were going to break.
“C’mon!” Steve spit out in a tone of fiery encouragement, your entire upper half of your body now shaking with the effort to keep his knuckles back. His weight on your chest was making you heave, but you took a deep breath to make your final push. You let out a shout, shoving your entire body into the movement behind your hands and sent Steve and his fist off of you. You stumbled back to your feet, barreling into him with your shoulder first.
This was how you two fought for nearly an hour. It was fierce, and it was relentless. Steve wasn’t letting up, so you knew you couldn’t either, otherwise, you’d be admitting defeat. You’d be damned if you would give up in front of the man who would rather die than toss in the towel. So you fought, and when you felt like you couldn’t get back up again, you got to your feet and stood your ground.
Steve nearly laughed in your face goodheartedly when you started pulling dirty moves. He sported a bite mark in his bicep when he tried to choke you out with his giant arm wrapped around your neck. You bit until you drew blood, his arm finally releasing enough for you to squirm out and send an elbow back behind you and into his side.
It wasn’t until you stood in front of him with loose fists, your chest heaving, and your hair plastered to your forehead from the sweat that you thought you might die. The salty moisture dripped from you and Steve alike, and it gave you enough satisfaction to see the physical effort he put in. Both of you were breathing heavy, but Steve still looked like he could go a few more hundred rounds. You felt ready to collapse, your legs shaking, and blood smeared across your face. Steve’s blood from your bite was still tangy and metallic in your teeth and on your lips, and the other smears where from when he broke your nose.
He didn’t mean to earlier, and you saw his hesitation after you cried out when his fist connected with the cartilage, blood leaking over your face and into your hands. His hesitation gave you a moment to bash your skull against his, giving him a taste of his own medicine. That made him angry enough to put you through the wringer again. That devilish smile he gave you after you did it sent chills down your spine, almost out of delight. You couldn’t help the sneering smile you sent back to him, and it seemed to be almost flirtatious. It rewarded Steve with your guard being down, giving him plenty of time to wrap his arms around your torso, and send you flying backwards and into the floor.
Now, as you stood there looking battered and beaten, Steve no longer looked at you like fresh meat for him to pulverise. You found familiar concern, deep lines etched between his brows.
“Did you get it all out?” He asked between breaths, his hands hanging to his side. You saw spatters of your blood on his knuckles and wrist wraps. His words made your stomach drop.
“What?” you whispered out, your words crackling from your throat.
“I saw your face when you heard about what Achlys is doing to half bloods. I wanted you to have a controlled environment to get your anger out after we talked it all out with the team,” Steve muttered, stepping closer to you until your fists were mere inches away from his chest. You still held them up, not letting your guard down even when Steve’s face was telling you the fight was over.
“I’m fine, Steve. Really.” You tried to stand up straight, but winced as your sore back protested.
“You don’t have to be fine. You don’t have to shoulder this all on your own.” Steve’s tone was sounding more exasperated as you verbally fought him, his shoulders straightening. Even his body showed when he was not willing to take push back.
You grunted in dissapoval, weakly tossing your fist to Steve’s chest in a lousy jab. He caught your fist, holding it gently in his hand.
“I know what it’s like. What you’re feeling,” Steve’s words became smooth like butter, rumbling in his chest as he spoke in his lower register. Both his hands now covered your loose fists, slowly pushing them down until both hung limply at your sides. You sucked in heavy breaths, wishing and willing your heart to stop beating fast. The embarrassment of Steve hearing it was a blip in your mind, for you were only focused on what he had said to you. You couldn’t stop the tears that blurred your vision, for Steve had made you too exhausted. He’d worn your will power and stubbornness thin, so you let the tears fall. Despite the waterworks, you still fought him.
“It’s heavy stuff, yeah, but I’m fine-” Steve interrupted you by saying your name, pleading it. His entire face looked nearly distraught as he begged you to stop with one plea of your name. You looked up into his eyes, almost shocked at the distress in his baby blues. Your mouth parted, but no words found their way out.
The tears still slowly rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your blood and your sweat, creating a disgusting, smeared mess across your face. You looked up to a blurry Steve, your face screwed in pain when you finally released a quiet cry. You relented under the weight of Steve’s concern, letting him crush down the dam that had been barely holding everything you were feeling at bay.
In that instance, you felt Steve’s large arms wrap around your frame and pull you in close. You rested your head on his chest and let your wrangled, quiet cries out, tears now falling down in floods. You were too tired to wrap your arms around Steve in return, but he didn’t seem to mind. His thumbs gently rubbed your back, his cheek resting on the top of your head while you quietly sobbed.
You sniveled and hiccuped, releasing all the anger and grief welling inside you from the moment you realised exactly what Damien was. You would beg on your knees to one of the gods if it meant they would take the pain that made you ache day and night away. You buckled and shook from it, the pain plaguing more than just your thoughts but your dreams as well. And now this? How much more of this could you take before it became too much?
“It won’t always be there, but you’ll still have to carry it. For now, we carry it together, okay?” Steve whispered, his breath close to your ear. You nodded, feeling the last of your tears drench the front of his shirt. You released one last sob as you truly pondered his words. You couldn’t let your loved ones carry your burdens, it was unthinkable to you. But the Avengers, Steve, was teaching you something new everyday. Perhaps you could let some of these pains go, so your team could help carry the weight of it all. Perhaps you weren’t alone in your sea of grief.
“Okay,” you whispered, immediately feeling as though Steve had taken half of the heaviness you woke up with nearly everyday. Your mass was already becoming lighter, and it felt easier to breathe.
Your heart was beginning to settle, and your breath began to even. Through it all, Steve held you, his even heart beats like a lullaby to lull you out of your grief-stricken trance. You rested your forehead against his chest, softly sniffling as the sobs melted away.
“Sorry ‘bout your shirt,” you mumbled, words slurring from the mix of emotions and exhaustion. Steve’s chuckle rumbled in his chest, making your eyes flutter close. You would freak out later about your closeness, but now, it was a welcome warmth that gave you a safe haven from your own thoughts.
“Don’t worry about it,” Steve’s voice was low in his register, his hands still around your back and rubbing in gentle motions, “I’m sorry about this.”
“About what, Ste-” You wailed, pushing at Steve’s chest. In a moment, Steve’s hands had seemingly cradled your face. It was a fraction of a second, but his hands on your cheeks were like ice water after the warmth of being cradled in his chest. You slightly gasped, your eyes widening and looking into his. His fingers were soft, the serum probably enhancing his skin to leave no calluses behind on his hands. You reveled in the mere moment his hands were on your cheeks, but then his gentle hands manually moved your broken nose cartilage back into place. You heard him mutter a few more apologies when you bent over, cradling your nose as a few more drops of blood dripped out.
“Do you need to see Banner for a quick nose splint-” “No, Steve, you asshole.” you moaned, standing back up, pinching the bridge of your nose. You squeezed your eyes shut as the pain slowly melted away along with your anger toward him.
“Please tell me we’re done for the day,” You whined, opening your eyes to glance over at him. You’d expected him to look sorry and concerned, but he almost held a smug grin on his face. Bastard.
“Yeah, we’re done. Need me to carry you?” He joked, giving you a small smirk. You were nearly hobbling out of the hanger, barely making it five feet away from him before you had to pause and catch your breath. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across our face, wincing as you felt the dried blood pull on your skin. Your face was still wet from tears and sweat, but you were leaving feeling much lighter.
“Shut up, Steve.”
You smiled as you limped out, Steve close behind you. You had walked in carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Steve had beaten you to a pulp until you were too tired to keep your emotions bottled and tucked away where they couldn’t hurt you. Once you released them, he cradled them in his own hands and shared the weight of it with you.
You limped out of the hangar feeling like you were no longer an isolated island being pummeled by wave after wave of anguish. Steve’s beacon of warmth had brought you somewhere that could be the home you’ve been waiting to find.
Notes:
I KNOW YOU LIKED THIS ONE HAHAHAHA
next chapter is gonna be a big one!!
Chapter 14: I Wish I Had Percy Jackson's Powers
Notes:
hi lovelies
sorry sorry I know i keep taking forever to write, but this is a big chapter! It was so big that I had to split it into two- unfortunately I need to rewrite the entirety of the next chapter cause I rewrote this chapter ahahahahaha
anywho i love yall thank you for reading babes!
also i don't think I grammar and spell check anymore sorry lmaoooo
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Hues of oranges and pinks erupted across the sky as the sun rose over the thick groves of pines and oaks that surrounded the Avengers compound. You had a spectacular view of the colors streaking across the sky, but a thick folder was weighing down on your lap. After your pummeling with Steve, you got right to work building your plan to retrieve the Lemnos fire. You had even given Nico a call to grab any information he might have on it, as limited as it came. You managed to grab a few hours of sleep once you finished your final draft, but the plan for retrieving the Lemnos fire still had taken up the expanse of your mind.
Once you had woken out of a dream of watching Hephaestus enslave the Hulk into the body of an automaton, you knew you wouldn’t find sleep again. With the final copy of your plan in hand, you quietly stepped out of your room to find a spot to watch the sunrise with a hot coffee. You wound up snuggled into a comfy armchair that you dragged close to one of the windows in the common room. With a blanket wrapped around your lower half and a warm mug cupped in your hands, you watched the sky in a calm daze.
You weren’t worried necessarily about the plan; it was thorough and extremely well thought out as your work always was. Steve confirmed your thinking each time you presented drafts for him to edit through the night until he sent you to bed. He had been in his office when you first sought him out. He smiled when you gently rapped on the glass door and waved you inside. He had papers and maps spread out about his desk, the stack of pictures from the lab off to the side. His monitor had footage on the screen, looking from the front camera on the nose of the Quinjet. He was watching the Drakon erupt out of the old laboratory from a birds eye view.
“Could you look this over for me and make some edits?” You asked, handing your own stack of papers over to him. His brows softly raised in surprise, looking at your scribbled outline.
“It’s been awhile since someone handed me a handwritten briefing,” Steve huffed a small laugh, sifting through the papers, slowly nodding at the bits and pieces he scanned through. “You came up with all this pretty fast,” he muttered, grabbing a pen from one of his desk drawers.
“I’ve had practice,” You spoke softly, slowly edging your way out of Steve’s office. He caught the nearly silent shuffle of your sneakered feet, his eyes flickering up to you.
“Stay, this shouldn’t take me long,” he smiled gently, gesturing to a small loveseat that sat across from his desk. You didn’t notice it earlier the last time you were here, but his office was quite small for being a team leader of the Avengers. You’d think that the higher on the totem pole you were, the bigger office space you’d get, but Steve was not that kind of man. His office was small and cozy, filled with dark woods and worn leather. The loveseat looked well loved and had a quilt draped over one of the arms. It wasn’t a cluttered office, but he had bits and bobbles displayed on a large shelf along with picture frames. Most of the photos were blurry and in black and white, looking straight out of his Smithsonian exhibit. You hoped they gave him the originals.
Steve’s office didn’t even have a mini fridge, though you thought a mini fridge in every office seemed more like a Tony thing than a design choice made by Steve. You plopped down onto the leather couch, sinking into the comfortable cushions. You watched Steve as he scratched away at your papers, his face calm and relaxed as he read and wrote.
“Why are there so many offices up here?” You asked, filling the silence while Steve worked. His gaze didn’t drift from the papers in his hands, but he managed to respond to you despite his split attention, “After Ultron, Tony wanted to build a whole operation to help support us and our mission. He didn’t want to rely solely on the iron legion anymore to help contain civilians or keep relying on Hill to run everything behind the scenes. We needed extra help to reach our goals,” Steve paused for a moment, shifting the papers in his hands around, his pen tapping on his desk softly.
“This whole compound was meant to house not just us but entire departments. He wanted a legal team here, suit designers, flight technicians, custodians, drivers, just about any kind of specialist we would need to support us before and after the missions and the victims, whether it be damage control, health care coverage or even deployed therapists for those affected by cataclysmic events like Ultron,” Steve looked up from the pages, looking out the glass wall of his office that offered a view into the main hallway. Dozens of empty offices and conference rooms sat in wait, never in use by the people Tony was hoping would fill those spaces.
“So… like S.H.I.E.L.D.?” You asked, worry evident in your tone and face. Steve’s eyes landed on you, a comforting smile on his face.
“Not S.H.I.E.L.D., something smaller…and better. I don’t think Tony envisioned weaponized task force teams and intelligence groups. He just wanted to make the world a better place by making us better and more prepared.” Guilt tainted Steve’s face, his smile shifting into a deep frown. His eyes zipped away from your thoughtful stare, his face looking back down at the pages on his desk.
“It could still happen, you know,” Steve looked back up at you, something like hope sparking in his gaze just from your words.
“You think so?” Steve asked, his eyes bright. You wondered when he started valuing your opinions on something like this. You didn’t know these heroes when Ultron tried to start human extinction a million years early, so how could you know if there was any hope for Tony wanting to build this dream of his again after what happened in Siberia?
You weren’t sure in the moment when Steve asked, but you dug back in your memories to observe Tony’s interactions with Steve. He still flinched every time the captain came up behind him too quietly or whenever Steve reached too close, the trust broken that day still haunting him. A few days ago, Steve had reached in front of Tony to grab a pastry from the plate that was sitting in front of him. Tony had startled so easily, that he dropped his mug of coffee to the floor, shards of ceramic spraying everywhere. Steve had profusely apologized, immediately squatting down to pick up the shards that lay between their feet. Tony was muttering for Steve to forget about it, his hands pushing Steve away as he picked up his mess. A piece of ceramic he grabbed had sliced a good chunk of his palm, blood dripping to the floor. Steve tried to help him, but Tony lost it, snapping at Steve to leave. Before Steve could even respond, Tony quickly made himself scarce, drops of blood trailing behind him.
You didn’t know Tony that well, but from the time you had with him, you figured he was more mad at himself at that moment than Steve. You could tell his anger was caused by the reaction Steve still had on him, his heart rate spiking every time he saw a flash of red, white, and blue. The super soldier was an easy outlet for Tony’s anger, so he often found himself utilizing Steve as a punching bag when he was pissed at himself. The screaming matches from the first couple days spent here turned into Tony yelling at Steve while the man stood there and took it. Steve probably believed it was his penance for what he did to Tony. Enduring his anger was a small price for him to pay, but afterward, Steve’s face looked aged after listening to Tony’s words filled with spite and venom.
The colors of the sunrise came back into focus as you pulled yourself out of your drifting thoughts. You spotted a figure out along the winding, paved path out on the grounds, slowly meandering toward one of the sporadic benches along the pathway. As they came into view, you recognized Tony’s form, watching as he took a sip from a thermos, his other hand snug in his jacket pocket. He took a seat at the bench, looking up to watch the color streaked sky. You smiled, feeling warmth spread in your chest. You were grateful the man was able to drag himself away from his lab to get some fresh air he desperately needed, whether or not Rhodes dragged him out there himself. He looked peaceful as he looked out to the horizon, his hair painted golden in the new morning light.
In the distance, you spotted Steve completing his early morning jog, or at least that seemed like the type of thing he’d do every morning. He slowed his pace to a walk once he spotted the engineer, approaching Tony at a snail’s pace as if he was coming up to a scared pet. You couldn’t hear them from inside the compound and being a few stories up, but Tony wasn’t punctuating each of his sentences with his finger poking into Steve’s chest. That was a decent sign that things were at least neutral between them this morning.
You couldn’t help but feel like you were prying into something private in your nest from above, peering down at the two as they talked. Your brows raised in surprise when Tony gestured for Steve to sit next to him. He sat at the far end of the bench, Steve’s gaze still intently on the man next to him, likely not wanting to push into Tony’s personal space. Tony offered him his thermos, letting Steve take a sip. You watched their interactions in surprise, Steve’s neutral expression turning into a bright smile. It had been a while since you had seen that directed at Tony.
Steve turned to the sunrise Tony pointed to, both of them shifting to the horizon. You couldn’t tell if they continued to talk, but Tony’s slumped shoulders seemed to prove that he was finally getting decently comfortable around the captain again.
When you watched Steve’s arm drape over the back of the bench, gently resting on Tony’s shoulders, your thoughts traveled back to the folder on your lap and your plans it carried. Steve had scheduled a team briefing in a couple hours where you’d be giving everyone their assignments and the overall general plan. When Steve had gone quiet, sifting through your paperwork, he didn’t hesitate to cover the skepticism written on his face.
“You really think this will work?” He asked, his eyes glancing up to you. You smiled in return.
“If my intel from Nico is right, then yes, yes it will, Captain,” you did your damndest to hide the nagging doubt in the back of your mind. You couldn’t guarantee anything, but you trusted your team to roll with the punches. Now, watching more pieces of the bridge between Steve and Tony be placed, you didn’t have a doubt in your mind.
__________________
You were nervous.
You usually were able to breathe through the anxiety, letting it simmer down into your stomach until all you felt was the thrum of eagerness for the fight. Today was different, and it was starting to fray your edges that you couldn’t reach out to something familiar to ground you.
You were worried about what the team was going to face in Hephaestus' forges on the island. You had multiple fail safes to keep everyone from feeling the brutal force of a god’s wrath, but even then, it might not be enough. Throughout your times of interacting with the gods, you had learned that they didn’t ever play fair, and that nothing was off limits. Now that the Avengers knew of their existence, you feared whoever you might run into would no longer hold back. Especially since Dr. Achlys seemed to be rewriting the rules of mortal and immortal interactions. Toying with demigods was one thing, but utilizing the monsters of Tartaurus was another.
You worried the corners of the papers in front of you, your fingers bending and twisting until you accidentally ripped the edges. You sighed, looking up at the crew around you. Everyone was utilized on this mission, except for Rhodes whom you choose as your designated survivor. Just in case things truly turned south.
Tony had the team deployed on another Quinjet, one that was much larger than the previous ones you had ridden in. It gave everyone enough space to relax on the long ride over the Atlantic, and included a couple small areas for rest and privacy. In the center of the roomy cabin, there was a large table with Tony’s signature holographic command center. You hadn’t opened them, instead taking to the paper copies of your mission briefing.
You were staring at one of the briefing pages that housed information Nico had given you. He had told you the forges on the island hadn’t remained quiet like most of the gods thought. The island was a special place to Hephaestus, having made a home there after being thrown out of Mount Olympus by Zeus and Hera. He made his own forges there, nestled in one of few mountains on the island, Mount Mosychlos. It had gone quiet for millennia after Hephaestus returned to Mount Olympus, but as recently as Gaea’s return, the forges had been put back into use. You’d assumed it had been Hepheastus himself that put it back into use, but you had learned your lesson over and over again to be wary of scenarios like this. Why would Hephaestus restart this forge without rhyme or reason? Did he know of an incoming war that the Oracle has not yet foreseen?
It didn’t matter now what his reasoning was, you needed the fire and that was that. You turned to another page of the briefing, looking over the infiltration plan. To access the forge without the Cyclopes noticing a merry band of mortals waltzing in, you had planned to take the Cave of Philoctetes to get in. It was the cavern Philoctetes found himself in for ten years after his fellow Greeks abandoned him, and it just so happened that the cave perfectly tunneled into the base of Mosychlos. There were no myths or legends surrounding the cave that might have hinted at monsters that patrolled it, so you found it to be the ideal choice for infiltration. You’d still keep your wits about you down there, not willing to take any chances. You didn’t want to be the person who got an Avenger killed today because you let your guard down.
“I thought I gave you orders to rest on the way to Lemnos,” Steve’s voice sounded in the quiet hum of the cabin, his steps drifting over to your spot in the center. You smiled sheepishly, looking up at him with a small grin.
“I don’t know what it is about this one, but I just can’t find the calm before the storm like I normally do,” You admitted, shifting your gaze back to the groupings of papers in front of you. Steve set his copy down on the table, his folder pristine and looking freshly printed. You cringed, looking at your crinkled files that sat next to his. Steve nodded along, lowering down into the seat next to you.
“There’s a lot of weight on your shoulders; this isn’t just leading a team, but the Avengers. I understand where the anxiety comes from, but we trust you, and you can trust us. That should give you some peace,” Steve smiled, glancing at the team around you both. Bruce laid in one of the reclined aircraft seats, headphones covering his ears and a blanket wrapped around his form. You would need heavy hitters for this mission if things went wrong, so the Hulk and Thor were going to be your solution to a possible army of Cyclopes. Bruce wasn’t too keen on hearing the news in the mission briefing you had led earlier.
He was actually truly against it until you revealed just how dangerous these monsters were and how they would tear your more vulnerable members apart.
“I just don’t see how this is a code green situation,” Bruce spoke, sounding completely exasperated. He rubbed at his temples, his eyes downcast to your paper briefing copies.
“I understand your hesitation, Bruce, I really do, but these guys are no joke. We aren’t going to be going against normal Cyclopes either. These are Elder Cyclopes which have lived for millennia, making them stronger and more powerful. There’s a reason these guys are the only ones capable of creating weapons for the gods’. They are the only ones that can handle that sort of power,” You responded, leaning onto the table in front of you. Bruce still wasn’t having it, silently staring down at the pages in front of him.
You quietly sighed, looking off to the side, catching Natasha’s intense gaze. Her face was stone, but she gave you a subtle nod, urging you to keep going.
“You’ve read The Odyssey, right Bruce?” you asked, pulling the man’s stare from the papers and up to you. He nodded, adjusting his glasses.
“You remember Polyphemus, the Cyclops Odysseus and his men killed?” Bruce nodded again at your words, his gaze hardening as he followed where you were taking the story.
“He was an Elder Cyclops, and despite being stupid and impious, he still savagely killed many of Odysseus’ men, and yes, they did eventually kill him, but it took cunning and skill. An army of them against us is going to be downright impossible without someone to take and give punches that will actually slow them down. We don’t have six hundred men to distract them and take the blows, but we have a Hulk and a god of thunder.” You mentally winced, feeling as if your tone was too harsh, but instead of seeing Bruce turn defensive, his tight facial expressions softened in contemplation.
Without another word, Bruce nodded, motioning you to continue on with the briefing. It wasn’t acceptance, but it was close enough. You thanked him, understanding the pressure that fell on Bruce everytime the Hulk was needed. You didn’t take him as a resource lightly, but if you were to save demigods and possibly even mortal life, it was a necessary evil. You’d find some way to make it up to him.
You watched him now, peacefully resting as he prepared for the Hulk to come out. You didn’t know what kind of pain or exhaustion Bruce went through every time he turned green, and you wished you could carry some of that pain for him. Unfortunately, it was his price to pay for the gamma running through his blood.
Your eyes returned back to Steve’s stormy ones, catching something complex in his stare. You opened your mouth to ask what was on his mind, but Thor’s booming laugh broke the still air in the cabin, his hands slapping down on Steve’s shoulders.
“We are almost there, Steven,” Thor’s infectious smile became directed at you, his eyes alight with what looked like mischief. “I have never had the pleasure of meeting one of your gods, but I have a feeling today is going to be quite entertaining,” Thor’s lips widened, showing off his teeth. You laughed, grabbing his hand that latched onto your shoulder, hoping for some of his excitement to transfer into you.
His smile turned more thoughtful, his eyes piercing through yours. He dropped to a knee, letting his gaze reach your level. “Don’t let your fear taint the thrill for battle. Your plan is thorough, and I know we will succeed in following it. If all else fails, us Avengers aren’t strangers to, what does Clint say, uh winging it?” Thor and Steve both chuckled, a chorus that eased your rising blood pressure.
“I bet you’re hoping Hephaestus will be there, Thor,” You smirked, watching as recognition alight in Thor’s eyes.
“I can’t say I wouldn’t be pleased to brawl with one of the Greeks. It seems like they are all bark, and no bite,” Thor’s voice lowered, the words coming out of his throat sounding like a challenge sent straight to Zeus himself.
“You better be ready then,” You gave him a nudge into his meaty arm, Thor chuckling softly as he rose back to his feet.
“I’m always ready,” he spoke softly, giving you one last squeeze of the shoulder before he sauntered past, his red cape swirling and billowing around his feet.
“See? We trust you to lead us,” Steve responded, shifting in his seat. His eyes locked to Tony’s as he walked over, his faceplate retracted from his iron armor. Tony looked down at you, his face tense with stress. You wondered if he was worried about the mission, but Tony’s next words revealed a new complication.
“Ross is sniffing around the compound, Cap. Rhodey’s holding him off for now, but he knows something’s fishy,” Tony’s mentioning of Ross wound Steve up so much that he visibly tightened and his jaw nearly cracked from his grinding teeth. It was common knowledge that Secretary Ross was out for Steve’s head, but you had assumed Tony had pulled some magic to keep them off the man’s radar. However, the government didn’t seem to bite at whatever Tony held in front of them.
“How long until they break down the door?” Steve asked, his tone near scathing. His anger wasn’t directed at Tony, but invoking Ross’s name changed something in him.
“Rhodey can keep him off for maybe another month, but they’ll keep eyes on the compound from now on. I can try to keep masking their satellites, but even they might find traces of me in their coding,” Tony sounded irritated, his gaze flowing between you and Steve.
“Do they know I’m here too?” You asked, capturing both Steve’s and Tony’s attention. Tony sighed, his metal cocooned fingers twitching.
“As of yet, they have no idea, but they will find out eventually that someone not officially on the roster is interacting with at least me,” Tony responded, his eyes staring back at you. “Don’t worry, kid. We won’t let Ross throw you in some ocean prison.”
You snorted, catching Steve’s fiery gaze. The flames in his eyes seemed to reduce the longer he looked at you, but his fury still simmered under the surface.
“Just something to keep in mind, Cap. I didn’t want to keep you in the dark,” Tony’s iron hand found Steve’s shoulder, his eyes staring down into the soldier’s. You thought maybe Tony was going for a dig, but there was no ire in his words.
“Thank you, Tony,” the words seemed to sigh out of Steve, a ghost of a smile reaching his lips. With that, Tony left you two behind, his red and gold back retreating to the seat next to Natasha.
You hummed, watching Steve stare off into the distance, his mind obviously on the genius. As if naturally reaching for a distraction, you didn’t think about the mission or the mending relationship between Steve and Tony. No, in fact, the one thing that seemed to thoroughly distract you was Steve himself. His suit was a wonder, as all Stark tech like this was, but the body that filled it out was a marvel. You shouldn’t be staring like you were, but his gaze had fallen away from you, giving you a moment to appreciate the view. The rational and logical part of your brain was screaming at you for looking at your direct superior like this, but you spent all your rationality on this mission. It was almost getting annoying at this point with how good those suits made him look, not that his civilian clothes didn’t make him loo-
“Hey.”
You nearly jumped out of your seat, your wide eyes turning to Bucky’s. Both of you stared at each other for a moment, Bucky slightly squinting as if he saw the hunger and desire in your stare just seconds ago. You gulped, still frozen in some kind of terror.
“We’re almost at the landing site. Want me to gather everybody up before we touch down?” Bucky asked, his eyes flitting between you and Steve. Steve looked completely innocent of the tension, nodding in response to Bucky’s words. You cleared your throat, “That would be great, uh, thanks,” You spoke softly, feeling very small under the scrutiny of Bucky’s gaze. It didn’t feel judgmental, but you knew you had been caught. You’d have to answer to him later if he didn’t forget it after the mission.
You shook off the embarrassment, quickly stepping into your role as mission leader. You were quite literally born and bred for this, and once you had a task at hand that needed doing, the anxiety you felt earlier melted away. Once the anxiety fled, what was left behind was you in your purest form. A natural born leader, having full faith in yourself and your team, both unwavering in strength and will.
“Avengers, our mission here is to get the Lemnos fire for Tony,” you looked around the cabin, locking eyes with the genius. “We escort him there and we make sure he and the fire gets out safely. We take the Cave of Philoctetes into the base of the forge; I don’t have enough intel to know for sure if that entrance will be left unguarded, so stay sharp. There are multiple branches off of the main cavern, but we should be able to follow the heat all the way to the forges,” Steve, standing right by your side, brought up a satellite image of the mountain on his Starkwatch, holding it out for the whole team to view.
“The mountain has been active for a few years now, so Tony equipped each of our suits with cooling systems to keep us protected from the heat of the forges. Remember, these are monsters that exist outside of regular mortal laws. Cyclopes can withstand extreme temperatures, so it’s incredibly important that only Tony gets near the hearths to collect the fire,” Your tone turned stern, emphasizing the imperativeness of your words.
“The Cyclopes will notice us, it’s not an if, it's a when. Hulk and Thor, you two will keep them off of us while we make our escape. Once we get back into the cave system, disengage immediately,” You pointed your look toward Bruce and Thor, the scientist looking more than nervous and Thor looking eager.
“Steve, you’re going to stay by Tony’s side at all times. Your primary objective is going to be simply helping Tony get the Lemnos fire, and then getting him and the fire out safely back to the Quinjet,” you watched as Tony tensed, his stare zoning out into the wall behind you. You trusted Steve to do the job, and you’d have to trust Tony to listen to him if need be.
“You said this is one of Hephaestus’ forges?” Natasha asked, her questioning gaze looking over to you for answers, not leaving Tony any room to refute your orders for Steve to be his bodyguard.
“It’s the forge, one that he takes special pride in. It was the forge he built with his own hands after he was thrown from Mount Olympus, so this place is extremely important to him,” You sucked in a breath, folding your arms in front of your chest. “If we run into him, I handle him. If he catches us sneaking into the forge, he’ll only react with anger. We don’t need any of you getting acquainted with the gods, especially when they’re in one of their more wrathful moods,” you were firm in your position on this, and it came across loud and clear. No one made a point to refute your sentiment to fight a god by yourself if it came down to it, but you could feel the disapproval from more than one person in the room.
“Mission clear?” you asked, looking around at all the faces of your team. Everyone responded to you, weapons and armor clinking together as signs of their readiness.
“Then let’s get started,” you said, leading your team out of the back of the Quinjet and into the dark of night.
To avoid locals and now, possible surveillance by Ross and his goons, you chose to conduct this mission at night. The darkness wouldn’t hinder your team too much, if at all, having mostly enhanced and advanced tech to lead the way. You wanted more cover for your team to keep them safer from more variables that appeared in the light of day.
With a quick hike from the landing site, you brought the team to the Cave of Philoctetes. The mouth of the cave was sliced into the cliff side, a skinny path leading down to the water that seeped into the cavern. The water wasn’t too high thanks to the tide, so you had planned for your team to wade through the cavern, avoiding the noise and logistics of arranging motorized dinghies near the mouth of the cave.
Thanks to Tony’s need to overdo everything, most people’s suits were equipped to handle water, especially at cooler temperatures. The materials of the suits resisted water seepage and kept you well insulated. The water didn’t feel too cool when you led the team into the clear water, but once you all made your way into the cavern, the star lit sky disappearing behind rock, the pools turned far colder. Everyone on the team was dead silent, the only thing you heard were their breaths and beating hearts. As you waded further into the caverns, Steve conducted a quick coms check, ensuring the frequencies weren’t disrupted by the teams location under tons of rock.
“Lights please, Tony,” Clint grumbled, his voice sounding softly from your ear piece. In response, the cave erupted in a soft glow, Tony’s lit thrusters aimed at the ceiling.
“Better, Legolas?” Tony quipped, receiving a quick, “Shut your trap, Tones,” from Clint. You could practically hear the smiles on their faces.
“Keep quiet, Avengers. Elder Cyclopes have super hearing,” You whispered, continuing to follow the main path of the cavern. In minutes, multiple paths started appearing on the sides of the cave the further the team travelled. The darkness seemed to seep out of the appearing tunnels, darkness swallowing everything Tony’s thrusters didn’t touch. When you turned to look behind you, you could no longer see the entrance you all came from. All that was left behind the team was a looming void. You kept moving forward, following the increasing heat that was coming from the forges far ahead. You let the temperature guide you forward, continuing your trudge until Steve’s hand reached out and grabbed your shoulder, stopping you in your steps.
You whipped your head back to him, watching as he hung his head, intently listening to the stillness in the cavern. Once the sloshing of the water from your sudden stop ceased, Steve held up a fist, the entire team seemingly holding their breaths in response. You watched his face intensely, dread starting to fog your mind.
“Something’s swimming toward us,” Steve whispered, his sounds barely audible through the coms. His gaze drifted to the right, his eyes staring at the mouth of a branching tunnel.
In the deafening silence, you finally heard the slow, shifting waves that were approaching from the tunnel. It wasn’t fast moving, but it was steadily making its way forward. You almost barked the order for everyone to start running, to push through the tunnel and hope whatever it was didn’t continue after if you seemed too fast to chase. After quick deductions in your head, you didn’t think it was worth exerting the team, for how bad could some water spirit be? A nymph could be troublesome, but nothing came to mind that posed a life ending threat.
Suddenly, a gush of water spewed out of the tunnel, filling the cavern at an alarming rate. You heard the clunk of Tony’s faceplate covering his head, Friday probably running through multiple statistical scenarios on how to save everyone if the cavern continued to fill to the top. You grunted as your legs got swept up in the swirling water, no longer able to touch the cave floor.
Before the water reached up to people’s necks, the gushing ceased, the water in the tunnel immediately stilling. You turned to check everyone, looking at everyone’s surprised faces. Thor still seemed able to scrape the ground with his feet, letting Bruce hang off of him to conserve their strength. Before you could verbally check on your team, the water began to swirl again. An arch of water reached out of the pool before you all, slowly filling out to shape the face and upper body of a stern and built looking man. Sea foam formed a curling beard that spilled from his face and into the rippling waters near his torso.
You saw the shock and alarm in people’s faces, not able to really comprehend the form in front of them despite their years of experience fighting aliens and enhanced. You almost sighed in relief when the river spirit formed in front of you all, grateful it wasn’t something worse. While powerful, the river spirits were usually pretty harmless.
“Who passes here?” The river god’s voice sounded garbled, like water was sitting in his throat as he spoke. His voice was still commanding despite the gurgling sound, the sound echoing over the water.
You spoke your name, explaining you were a daughter of Athena. You didn’t find it opportunistic to lie, most gods like these go on extreme power trips when they find out they had been lied to. The river god seemed to contemplate your answer, his watery eyes squinting as if to see your complexion better.
“What business do you have here at the forge of Hephaestus?” He asked, his rippling arms folding in front of him. His face remained stern, his foamy beard cascading over his forearms.
“We need the help of the Cyclopes,” this time you knew you had to lie. If you said anything along the lines of taking something, you knew this river god would drown you before you’d get the chance. River gods weren’t entirely violent, but this guy was on Hephaestus’ payroll to keep people out for whatever reason. You could feel the eyes of your teammates staring into the back of your head, watching you interact with the water creature.
“That’s what the last person said,” his words slowed as his tone grew more and more suspicious of your actions. You kept your eyebrows from springing up in surprise, realizing that the person who was here last could have been Dr. Achlys. That was a feat in itself that you could not spend time thinking over now.
“We won’t cause trouble for Hephaestus, we just need to get to the forges,” You pleaded, looking up into the dark swirling orbs that were the river god’s eyes. He seemed to be unsure, and bioluminescent algae began to glow along his rippling water form, the glow growing in intensity as his eyes seemed to boil. You could feel your team tense behind you as they undoubtedly notice the switch in behavior of the river spirit.
Without warning, a tendril of water slammed into your chest, and coiled up to encircle your throat. The river spirit’s inky eyes truly began to boil now, his entire form bubbling and simmering. His grip on your throat wasn’t enough to stop you from gathering air into your lungs, but it was enough pressure to make you wheeze and panic. When your hands reached the watery arm holding your throat, your hands passed through, simply reaching into the water without breaking its hold on your neck.
Your team didn’t have time to respond as the river spirit yanked you under his waves. The water was pitch black until the bioluminescent algae in the spirit’s form began to glow again, the blues and greens no longer beautiful, but menacing as it made the river god’s stare infinitely more unyielding. You could barely see his form, but when his voice sounded, it was no longer gurgling.
“The last human to traverse these waters stole from the great Khalkeús which is why he employed my help here,” his voice boomed through the water, his true power dripping from his words as he was within his true domain. You choked, unable to form a response due to the water filling your mouth and nostrils. He knew you could not defend yourself against him here in his hold under the pools of the cavern, yet he held you still as if in wait.
You couldn’t think as your fear gripped any logical thought running through your mind. The terror of drowning made you kick and hit the water, your violence directed at nothing. You could feel faint finger tips from teammates that grazed your shoulders; the thought of your team reaching into the depths to pull you up was not enough to keep the darkness from your peripherals. You were running out of air and this river god kept you out of your team’s reach.
Seemingly having enough of his fun, before you could drown from the fluid entering your lungs, the spirit pushed you out of the water, your body slamming into the roof of the cavern from the force. Your limp body landed back in the water, but before you could sink to the floor, strong hands pulled you out of the water, keeping your head above the waves. You coughed up the water from your lungs, heaving as it trickled out of your throat and mouth. Steve’s strong hand pounded on your back, helping you relieve your lungs.
“You’ll face more than the wrath of Hephaestus if you take what is his” The river god’s words were like an ominous cloud that developed over your head, hanging there so you felt the threat in your bones. Before you could say more, the river god’s likeness dissolved back into the pool, the water levels decreasing with him. Your feet returned to the floor, the water retreating all the way back into the tunnel until it was just puddles underneath your boots.
You continued to cough, falling to your knees on the cavern floor. Wet sand covered your hands and knees as you knelt, your chest heaving as you managed to control your breaths. Steve knelt beside you, his hand on your back. He was muttering words to you that you could not hear from your ears being water-logged.
“What… in the fucks name was that thing?” Tony’s faceplate retreated, his wild eyes full of fear as he looked toward you. Water dripped from the metal plates of his suit, the water glistening like a layer of brilliance. You took a breath, looking up at your drenched team, counting heads and limbs. Everyone seemed to be in one piece and not nearly drowned like you had been.
“A river spirit. Pretty much every water source has one. He must be guarding this entrance to the forges, but if he let us through, there might be more than we bargained for waiting for us,” You responded slowly, each word croaked out.
“He said that someone came here before, someone said they needed to get to the forges,” Thor’s deep voice echoed up into the ceiling of the cavern. You didn’t remember the cavern roof being so high, but maybe the lightheadedness was making you see things.
“Yeah, probably Achlys,” you spewed the words out, resting your forehead against the cool sand. You took deep breaths, trying to regulate your body through force. You needed to rebound fast, for this was not the time to succumb to weakness. You were the protector, the shield for these mortals if Hephaestus decided to rain his wrath down upon you, for his wrath was tenfold if somebody already came before you and took something of his.
“We need to keep moving-”
“We can take at least five minutes for you to catch your breath,” Steve interrupted you, his voice firm. You didn’t need to look up at him to realize that he was unwilling to hear any criticisms about it. If he said to take five minutes, then you would be taking five minutes.
Once you finally felt like your lungs were no longer full of fluid, you got to your feet and directed the team. Onward you all kept marching, the heat increasing and increasing until sweat was spilling down foreheads and dampening hands. You were grateful that you were at least heading in the right direction.
No one complained, not even the snarks of the group were quipping back and forth which was another minor comfort. You knew this mission would be risky, and unfortunately, this was still the easy part of it all. The forges would feel like being roasted alive on a pyre, the heat from the flames too much for some of the group members to bear. You thanked the gods for Tony and his cooling systemed suits.
It didn’t take long for the cavern floor to start inclining, the sand and rock now bone dry. Everyone’s suits had been drenched from earlier despite their water resistance, but now, the water had been evaporated quickly by the raw, dry heat emerging from the tunnel ahead of everyone.
In the distance, everyone could hear the shuddering clang of hammers on anvils, metal clanging into metal. The tunnel began to glow ominously, orange and red light from flames painting the cavern walls.
“Stay close, everyone. Thor,” you looked behind you, locking eyes with the god of thunder. His long blonde hair was damp with sweat, drops dripping down his temples. “Don’t engage the Cyclopes until we have their attention. You’re in charge of bringing out the Hulk,” you commanded, your eyes drifting to a nervous Bruce shifting behind Thor’s massive frame.
With a nod from the god, you looked to the rest of your team. “We protect Tony no matter the cost. We are here for the fire and nothing else. Once Tony has the Lemnos Fire in the containment tube, we high tail it out of here,” you received confirming nods from everyone, a sense of dread permeating through everyone.
You took a deep breath, pushing your lightheadedness and worry deep down, suppressing it with a heavy focus for the mission. You pushed forward up the cavern floor, the light from the forges now nearly blinding.
The end of the cavern neared, the small opening leading into a massive structure that hollowed out the mountain. Elder Cyclopes roamed the expanses, clad in metallurgy aprons and heat protectant goggles. They towered over everyone, making even the team, even the mighty Thor, look and feel like ants. Gigantic stalactites hung ominously from the mountain’s peak, providing another way for you and your team to perish, adding to your already expansive list.
For how threatening the river spirit made Heaphaestus’ presence, the god was eerily absent. His own work area was empty, the Cyclopes taking over the space. They had mounds and mounds of weaponry piled all around space, pieces spilling out onto the floor. You looked around curiously, wondering what all the weaponry was for.
None of the Avengers spoke a word as you entered, whether that be from your reminder of Cyclopes super hearing or due to their own awe-like horror of the monsters in front of them. Perhaps it was the intense heat that seemed to evaporate any moisture in your mouth when you opened it to speak. The sweat from people’s foreheads seemed to boil away, leaving behind traces of salt on people’s skin. Still, you had to press on.
“Tony,” You spoke, your mouth immediately drying. You still grasped his attention, his suit’s gaze following your pointed finger that traced to the ancient Lemnos Fire.
The fire wasn’t really fire at all, but an ancestral looking plasma or lava. The fire that burned from it was a deep maroon that painted the walls in an eerie light. It steamed and billowed, the fire and smoke curling in ribbons from the substance. The flames didn’t seem natural, their flickering and movements seeming uncharacteristic. The hearths the substance lay in were far from the group, the space between the Avengers and the fires taken up by the busied Cyclopes.
“I say we gun it,” Tony’s voice fizzled over the comm line, the curiosity in his voice apparent as he stared at the sparkling Lemnos Fire.
Natasha shrugged, “Not one of your worst ideas, Tony, but still pretty bad.”
“These beasts look ready to meet the face of my hammer,” Thor nearly growled, his voice low and taunting.
“You’ll get your chance to tango with them; we stay stealth until they notice us,” you demanded, your entire body tense as you contemplated the next moves. Deciding to keep the team together, you directed the group to follow you through the metallurgy stations. You ducked behind giant slack tubs, steam billowing from them as cyclopes dunked finished weaponry into them to be cooled. You wound through anvils, sparks raining down from the hammers pounding into metal. Still, it was unnerving to see the Cyclopes and not have them notice your presence quite yet.
It felt like eons until you reached the hearths, a slow breath of relief releasing from your chest. You were still waiting for the other shoe to drop, watching as Tony reached for the containment unit he made for the fire. Steve stood close by his side, watching his every move as if the Lemnos fire itself would reach an arm out to Tony and pull him in. Everyone’s eyes were upon the genius as he reached up into the hearth, the containment unit opening for the sample Tony was about to scoop into it.
“THIEVES!”
A nearly 15 foot tall Cyclopes stomped forward, his voice shaking the halls of the forge, stalactites shuddering from the billowing sound waves. The goggled cyclops pointed his crooked finger toward you and the Avengers, his voice gathering every monster’s attention.
Tony nearly dropped the containment unit, his entire body flinching at the thundering voice. All the Avengers seemed to jump, not expecting the sudden attention of an Elder Cyclops.
“It’s time, Thor!” you shouted, pulling your sword violently out of its sheath. Thor readied himself, Mjolnir swinging in his hands. His hand reached out, grabbing onto Bruce’s arm and launched them both up into the air. The Asgardian tossed Bruce across the forge, Mjolnir following close behind to hit the man in the back. As the hammer slammed into its’ mark, a massive green hand grabbed hold of the hammer’s handle, letting it pull him into the face of an incoming Cyclops, a massive club in his hands that was aimed for the rest of the Avengers on the ground.
You had never seen Bruce transform into the Hulk before, but it was quite the sight to see. The green gamma overtook him like a demon, his entire body bulging until green skin burst through the seams of his clothes. The roar of an apex predator released from the green monster, Hulk’s delight apparent as he and Thor surrendered to their desire to crack skulls.
“Tony, do you have the fire?!” You shouted over the roar of the cyclopes, your wild gaze looking back to the man behind you. He sealed the containment unit, having gotten hopefully enough of the fire to melt down the celestial bronze back at home. With a nod from the man, you gathered up the ground troops.
“Sam, get Clint to a perch, and Clint, aim for the eyes!” You pointed up to the cavern ceiling, Sam immediately grabbing Clint and deploying his wings.
“The rest of the Avengers, we get Tony out back through the tunnel!” The noise of the fight was near deafening, the roars of the Cyclopes, Hulk and Thor echoing up into the ether. Due to the heat from the Lemnos fire, Tony’s suit power was now only being directed to life support and homeostasis protocols. The heat was burning through some of the circuitry, motherboards and wiring starting to fry.
Steve ran side by side with him, keeping the group together as you all maintained speed with Tony running in his suit. You heard explosions, your gaze following Clint up on a natural alcove made in the mountain wall. His exploding arrows were finding their mark in Cyclopes eyes, but Elder Cyclopes were far stronger than that. Thor and Hulk were providing a fantastic distraction for Tony to get through the tunnel, but their galavanting was bordering reckless.
You watched as the Hulk got thrown from the back of a reeling Cyclops, his body hitting the mountain wall with a massive crack. He tumbled down, taking rocks and rubble with him. His landing crumbled the tunnel entrance, the opening collapsing in on itself.
You muttered a slurry of curses, quickly following Steve as he redirected the path to get Tony to the Quinjet.
“We can try and blow a hole in the side of the mountain-”
“Why not up?” Tony looked to the ceiling as they ran, his hands tightly gripping the containment unit. “This used to be a volcano, right?” The iron mask looked back at you.
“I mean, yes, probably, but-”
“We don’t have time for buts,” Steve spoke, a ferocity in his tone. You gave him a nod, seeing the message written in his irises.
Before you could act on it, the ground began to shake, sending you and the others tumbling. The cavern itself seemed to have awoken from some kind of slumber as everything began to shudder under some invisible weight. You watched as Steve threw his shielded arm above his head, pulling you, Bucky, Tony and Natasha underneath to keep rocks and rubble dropping onto your skulls. Even the Elder Cyclopes ducked from the rubble, cowering from the stalactites and rocks falling from the heavens.
You looked up to the sky, peaking your head out from under the shield and saw a hole had been blasted through the peak of the mountain, spotting stars twinkling on high.
“Thor, Sam! Grab Tony and get him out of here through the ceiling!” you felt like you were screaming over the comms, making your voice heard through the chaos. Thor and Sam both belined for Tony only for a massive form to hit them out of the sky, sending them sprawling. A towering man had entered the cavern from the new hole in the mountain, speeding toward the ground like a missile.
He landed, dust and rock exploding from his feet.
If you had fear in your chest before, a new found terror made your heart pound, the thundering making you deafen to the questions and yells from your team. Your grip on the handle of your sword was iron strong, but your fingers still quaked as you stared down your new enemy. The world was lost around you, the backdrop fading as you zeroed in on your new target.
The man chuckled, the sound echoing through the forges, commanding silence from the Cyclopes and their opponents. He slowly stood to his full height, the light from the Lemnos Fire behind you bathing him in a terrifying red glow. The helm he wore stood nearly a foot tall, the spikes of his helmet piercing as they reached toward the heavens. The front of his helmet was the wide open jaw of a skull, the sharp, jagged teeth bracketing a pitch black hole where his face would be. The eerie red light made his pin prick eyes glow like the flames of the hearth. He was clad in heavy, celestial bronze armor that looked like it weighed more than the mountain itself. A giant sword hung from his mighty hand, the wide blade itself nearly the height of Steve.
“Your mother was right, you are madder than the goddess of heroes herself,” his voice was grating and deep, filled with millennia of rage that threatened to spill out. His tone was condescending, as if a sneer was permanently etched onto his face.
You grit your teeth, fear leaving your body as your uncle’s anger filled your lungs and made you truly see red.
“ARES!”
Notes:
MUAHAHAHA
Big fight INCOMING
Chapter 15: Ares is an Asshole
Notes:
WARNINGS: DISCUSSIONS OF FAMILY DEATH AND IMPLIED DRUG OVERDOSE IN THIS CHAPTER!!!
I don't think I'll ever stop apologizing to you guys.
Writing this took a long time one, because I kept hating the flow and sequences in this chapter, but I eventually found the rhythm I liked. Two, there's a lot of deep stuff later in the chapter, and I had to do a lot of self reflection while writing it. Believe it or not this isn't a self insert, but sometimes I feel like my own insecurities shine through our reader here, so I tried to make things healthy versus me trauma dumping and not fixing my own problems LOL HAHAHA
Also I saw Superman and had a bit of a hyperfixation that paused writing.
Another thing, now that we are deeper into this story, a lot of these scenes had been conjured by me daydreaming while listening to music. So, I'm going to be incorporating notes for specific scenes where music really inspired the tempo and flow, or overall feel of scenes. It's usually the tone that inspired me versus lyrics; I'll be specific when I feel I should clarify what pieces of the songs inspired me.
Songs for this chapter:
Fences by Destroy Boys
Backseat by Charli Adams
(based on the vibes of these songs, I'm sure you can see what scenes they match up with, but later on, I'll be much more specific about song and scene matching)
Happy Reading!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Your nostrils flared, your chest heaving as you huffed and puffed like a raging bull ready to charge. The anger Ares brought upon you spread like a deadly poison and passed through the air like a viral disease. You could feel the rising energies from the people behind you; it felt nearly as oppressive as the god of war himself.
His presence changed the very molecules of the air around you, the hearths behind you feeling like they grew hotter and hotter as everyone grew more irate.
You took a breath, shaking with the effort to control yourself and diffuse the urge to lash out. The only way to survive this was not to let the anger take over, but to let it consume Ares himself. He would lose himself in his arrogance and his volcanic emotions– you just had to bide your time. You squeezed the handle of your sword and grit your teeth, preparing yourself for the plan already formulating in your head.
Ares' pinprick eyes sized you up, and he paced in front of you, acting as if he was flaunting his ultimate power and control. You worried about your team, but you had to trust them, had to trust Steve to at least get Tony out of here. They could control their anger, or at least take it out on the beasts still raging behind you.
“What are you doing here, Ares?” You couldn’t help but sneer at him. It only made him chuckle with delight that he was affecting you so.
“I’m protecting my brother’s forge from thieves like yourself. Your mother would be so disappointed to see you’ve resorted to stealing from the gods,” His voice was dripping with hate, the words rumbling out of his chest. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel like he smiled as he looked at you, his helmet disguising any expression on his face. You were grateful you couldn’t see whatever ravenous smile was spreading under that helm.
“I didn’t think you and Hephaestus were close like that since you took his wife,” You muttered, keeping your sword up and ready. You heard the awkward shuffle from your ground troops behind you, causing your focus to shift. You heard Tony’s heavy breaths, his metal suit wearing him down as it grew heavier and heavier, the extreme heat from the forges seemingly sucking all the power out of the arc reactor. The light in his chest flickered, causing your own heart to skip a beat. You were grateful that the reactor was no longer in his chest, or there would be much bigger problems at hand. He was heavily leaning into Steve’s side, the super soldier’s arms wrapped around him like a lifeline. Bucky and Natasha moved in front of the pair to block Ares' view, their guns at the ready and both their faces painted with barely controlled rage. You never thought you would see Natasha’s grip on her guns shake.
Ares roaring laughter snapped your gaze back to him. His sword was held loosely in his hands, as if the huge blade weighed nothing. “Well, when the last person to steal from him was a mortal with half a dozen demigods, you tend to employ the best of the best.”
You couldn’t blanch at the words. All you could do was tuck the bits and pieces of information away for another time to use. You couldn’t relinquish any of your attention, for that let Ares see weakness.
“So, what, you’re here to kill your niece just to protect your brother’s ego?” You spoke dryly, squinting your eyes in challenge. Ares saw the look in your face, his shoulders now set versus his loose demeanor from earlier. Even he couldn’t underestimate one of his nieces from Athena. He was foolish in many ways, but not when it came to cunning gray eyes.
“I’m under strict orders to leave you alive, but I have endured Athena’s wrath before. I can endure it again if I must,” Ares grunted, slamming the flat of his blade into his armor in a steady rhythm like battle drums. The clanging was deafening and demanded all eyes toward the center of the carved mountain. Even Hulk and Thor paused in their fighting, Cyclopes with clubs and spears in their hands waited for their general to charge.
You too waited, only allowing yourself to engage in a fight until Ares came to you. You dug your feet in the dirt, physically planting yourself so your rage didn't drive you forward. Your only hope was to let his rage and salivating desire for bloodshed blind him. You’d just have to survive long enough for him to reach those levels of anger.
With a roar, Ares lunged to you, his sword raising above his head. With a powerful arc, he brought down the blade, narrowly missing you as you quickly dodged out of the way. You tucked into a roll, dodging toward Ares’ open left side. Before you could stage your attack, the god of war met you there, his giant sword knocking yours out of its cutting sweep. You grunted, tightening your hold on the handle to keep your sword from flying out of your hands. The metal clanged, and you were grateful for whatever alloy this sword was made out of, for it held well against the tremendous force behind Ares.
Your blades continued to clash as they met over and over, your speed matching Ares’ move for move. You felt the confusion and annoyance radiating off of the god, and it showed in his movements. He stuttered, not expecting you to keep such a strong defense against his swift attacks. The energy that thrummed from the sword into your arms was providing that strange sight again; it was as if your brain was processing your thoughts faster, letting you predict and move quicker than even Ares expected. You saw your opening, driving your cutting edge to his uncovered elbow. Your sword met its mark, but no ichor flowed. You only managed to piss the him off as the tip of your blade seemed to bounce off his skin without leaving a mark.
Ares bellowed in rage rather than pain. Your eyes widened in fear as you barely managed to keep up with his now tireless movements; as tall and formidable as he was, he moved quickly. The energy of the sword gave you a powerful boost, but even with the magic, you couldn’t think fast enough to try and stay a step ahead. Yet, if it weren’t for that energy thrumming through your veins, you feared you would have been dead on the floor much earlier. His frustration was becoming more apparent the longer this fight lasted and the more you avoided being smothered beneath his boot. His helm and armor began to glow as Ares’ anger grew, as if the pieces came straight from the hearth to be hammered on the anvil. Steam billowed off of his shoulders, the smoke curling around his blade.
Before Ares began another round of blows, his gaze shifted, his pinprick eyes no longer looking at you. Before you could track his line of sight, he bolted, his path headed straight for Steve and Tony. While you engaged with Ares, Tony’s condition only seemed to worsen. His armor looked completely powerless, and he now leaned heavily against Steve who was practically dragging him away from Ares, probably calling for Sam or Thor for an airlift out of the mountain.
Bucky and Natasha tried to clear them a path, keeping lone Cyclopes distracted while the rest of the Avengers continued to battle with the main cluster that were nearly pummeling Thor and the Hulk. Out of all the chaos, Ares had set his sights on Steve and Tony, his eyes locked onto the now glowing containment unit in Tony’s armored hands. There was nothing Bucky or Natasha could have done to stop him in his path. If they tried, they would likely die.
You sprinted to Ares, desperation fueling every pounding footstep. If Ares was willing to kill you over stealing a little Lemnos Fire, then he’d smile as he spilt Steve and Tony’s blood.
You cried out, jumping as hard as you could toward the god. You led with your shoulder, somehow gathering enough force to hit Ares to the ground, your sword still tight in your grip. You clambered over his body, bringing your sword up high above your head to bring down onto his back. One of Ares’ hands reached blindly behind him, latching onto your hair to toss you off his back. He threw you like a ragdoll, your body slamming into the mountain wall. You dropped into a heap, groaning from the throbbing pain you felt everywhere. The energy from your sword left you, the blade having clattered to the floor. Once that current ceased in your veins, the intensity of the pain increased tenfold.
Your vision blurred as you twisted on the floor, shaking as you crawled on your hands and knees. You winced and hissed as you tried to get to your feet, pain radiating from your back. Once your sword was back in your hands, the energy flowed and gave you the strength to get to your feet even though you swayed. You nearly wept seeing Ares stalking toward Steve and Tony, trying to get your body to move toward them faster. You had to save them, but your body was sluggish to carry out your commands. Ares' desire to play with his food before he went in for the kill was the only thing buying you time.
“I’ve heard of you mortals, you Avengers. Captain America and Tony Stark. Men of war like me.” Ares roared in delight, his steps slowing as if he wanted to savor this chase. Steve didn’t look back at him. “I’ve heard of your might and your cunning, yet you run from me? The god who gave you war to make you who you are? Face me you cowards!” You feared Ares would have thrown his sword like a javelin, but he seemed to not find the move advantageous. He was having too much fun in his jeering.
“I’ve faced lowly Greek men more courageous than you!” Ares' voice rang out through the mountain cavern, his words woven with dangerous ire and taunts.
You weren’t going to make it to stop Ares; the horror and realization that filled you nearly made you vomit as you struggled to a jog. He only laughed as he stalked his prey, letting them run to give them a false sense of hope. Ares was nearly there, his massive hand reaching out to rip Stark out of Steve’s grip-
An explosion went off in Ares' face, blowing his helmet off his head and sending the god to his feet. You looked up in shock, the explosion having come from a special arrowhead shot from Clint’s bow. The man looked stoic from his perch, his bow still aimed at Ares.
You shook your head in disbelief. “Clint, what have you done, he’ll kill you for that or worse-“ you nearly screamed through your earpiece, Clint’s calm voice interrupting your scolding.
“I was gettin’ real tired hearing that prick monologue.”
You blinked, your gaze leaving Clint to the god’s stirring body. Ares quickly stood, his red irises flaming as his helm’s tricks no longer cloaked his scarred face. He wore a sneer under his crooked, arched nose, and aimed it right back at Clint, but the archer didn’t squirm under his gaze.
“Perhaps I should turn into my real form. Then you’d understand how wrathful I truly-“ Ares was practically snarling until Steve’s shield slammed into his face, sending the god stumbling.
Steve caught the shield in its rebound, his hands swiftly returning it to its spot on his left forearm. Steve stalked toward Ares, having left Tony behind in the arms of Bucky and Natasha. His entire being oozed with contempt for the creature in front of him, his eyebrows furrowed in deep disapproval. Nothing but a mortal man, looking down upon the god of war himself whom he hit in the face with a frisbee.
“Did I strike a nerve, Captain? Didn’t like being called a coward?” Ares spit, a devilish smile plastered across his face as he got to his feet, his sword appearing in his grip. Steve looked up at the god as he rose to this form’s full height. No fear or anger radiated off of Steve, the effects of Ares' presence not changing his demeanor in the slightest. The only thing that showed on the super soldier’s face was pure grit.
“I don’t like bullies, don’t care if they’re gods or not,” Steve mumbled, his shoulders setting in preparation for Ares' coming blow.
Ares only laughed in Steve’s face. “Don’t worry, Captain. Bullies like me always win, and I’ll make sure you won’t leave with that fire.”
Steve almost smiled. “If you want the fire, you’ll have to get through me first.” Steve almost seemed to be enjoying this, standing up to a relentless and uncaring god like Ares. It was his specialty, and in fact, you figured Ares must have known of his insatiableness once people started picking fights with the super soldier. That moral compass that drove him guided him toward people like this, and now gods like this, so he could put them in their place.
The smiling sneer faded from Ares face, replaced with an eruption of anger. The wrathful emotions spilled out of the god in the form of a rattling shout. Ares lurched forward, landing blow after blow to Steve’s shield as he blocked every swing and jab from the god’s sword. That was enough of a signal to move despite the protesting pains in your body. You sprinted toward them, hoping that you’d get there first before Steve did anything more stupid than hitting a god in the face.
Ares’ whipped his sword about in a series of tightly controlled spin moves, sending Steve into the mountain floor, his shield flung to the side. Ares went to drive his sword into Steve’s chest, but he was met with utmost resistance. Steve shook with the effort to hold back Ares’ sword, his hands gripping the god’s giant hands. Ares’ grinned, his gleaming teeth shining in Steve’s face. Ares delighted in Steve’s struggle, and was practically amused by it.
“A valiant effort, mortal. But even you can’t beat me, Captain,” Ares whispered, as if his words were caressing Steve’s sweating cheeks before he prepared to drive the blade home. Instead, you launched yourself forward, driving your knee into the side of Ares’ head. You knocked the god to the side of Steve, giving him the chance to dodge the tip of Ares’ sword. You sliced your sword across the god’s exposed midriff, watching as his golden blood slowly leaked out of the wound. You punched and jabbed, landing any blow you could to the god’s exposed face before Ares would find his anger and launch to his feet.
The god stirred, angry grunts rumbling in his chest. You looked to Steve desperately, watching him reach for his shield on the ground. “Go! Get Tony out of here! He’ll kill you both!” You screamed, yelping in surprise as Ares kicked you off of him.
A menacing chuckle gurgled out of the god, his gaze looking at the smeared ichor that had grazed his hand. “You really like those mortals, don’t you, niece,” Ares whirled to you, his smile looking far more deadly. “Such a visible weakness of yours, caring for beings that mean nothing in the end of all things. Such a waste of your potential to be spent protecting them.”
“I don’t know what game you’re playing here, Ares, but they’re leaving with that fire. We need it,” You croaked as you spoke the last phrase, your whole body heaving with the effort to keep you upright. Ares growled in response.
“Stupid, half blood. There are far bigger things at play than an evil scientist stealing demigods from their beds,” you scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, blinking away the sweat that dripped into your eyes. The anger in your belly roared in his harsh response to you, but you shoved it down with all your might.
“What- what else is happening?” You asked, your words spoken between heaving breaths.
“Look around you, stupid girl. The forge is open because there’s another war on the horizon! Can’t you see!” Ares shouted, his arms spread around him, gesturing around the forge. Unconscious Cyclopes bodies were scattered across the cavern, haloed by piles of weapons.
In your quick glimpse around the forge, you noticed the absence of your team. Hulk and Thor had vacated, leaving behind heaps of Cyclopes. Clint was no longer on his perch and Steve had gotten the ground team out with Tony and the fire safely back in the Quinjet. You could at least heave a sigh of relief, knowing your team was out of Ares’ sights, having followed your exfil plan to a T.
“What war? The mortal? She has an army?” You were shouting your responses, nearly screaming at Ares as you felt the anger boil. You weren’t as good as Steve; you couldn’t control the hold Ares’ presence had on your emotions. It was slipping past your defenses, and quickly getting out of control. It felt volcanic, and you feared you couldn’t contain it long enough to keep you alive.
You expected Ares to scream in response or swipe his blade toward your neck, but the god froze. His eyes looked far, far away as he whispered, “The god killer… She wants Dodona.”
The reality of the situation hit you hard, slamming into you like a runaway freight train. You were struck dumb, thinking of the harsh, harsh truth Ares had just revealed. Your wide eyes looked into Ares’ red ones, the fear radiating off both of you like the heat from the hearths.
Ares seemed to snap out of his trance, his gaze focusing back on you which reignited his rage. He huffed, “Doesn’t matter. I still have a job to do.”
Without a warning, Ares swung his sword and lunged forward. You cried out as the sword ripped through your suit, driving through your side. It had pierced into your side, bypassing your gut. The ripping of flesh was still toe-curling, the pain reverberating through your body. You hadn’t been ready for his speed, blinded by fear, but Ares hadn’t known of the energy that filled you with your sword in hand. With one thought, you found the strength to hone your anger into a deadly weapon. You sharpened it like a dagger, your sharp eyes finding him without fear striking your body.
You roared in your rage, adrenaline pumping your heart hard. You whirled towards him with a series of blows, your sword nothing but a blur as you moved. Ares knocked away each attack, sending you backward, but your mental game remained intact. His own ire urged him on, his actions nothing short of bullying moves to squander you into the ground. His frustration made him swing a fist, his giant knuckles barely missing the wound on your side, but still finding its mark in your gut.
Sweat dripped off you as you dodged another attack, this time sliding beneath the god’s legs as you predicted his lunge. You slashed at the back of his knee, the tip of your sword slicing into his leg. He whirled, his entire body lifting as he drove his sword down to where you lay behind him. You rolled, feeling the shockwaves in the floor from where Ares drove his weapon. You didn’t let the tingle of fear control your momentum, seeing that deadly sword driven into rock where you had once been.
Ares smiled in delight as he saw your slight hesitation, but a rain of bullets fired down upon him from the mouth of the open mountain peak before he could act. You ducked, shielding your face from the dirt and rock that kicked up from the hellstorm. Once the thunderous noise of turret bullets ceased, you looked up, spotting the Quinjet swooping down to the floor toward you. Its landing equipment wasn’t deployed, but the back cargo door slowly opened, the Quinjet turning to reveal the open door to you. You weren’t close enough to leap for the opening, but you quickly realized that your wound was slowing you down. Despite the new found strength, it wasn’t enough to propel you forward. You’d never make it before Ares was on you again.
Steve launched himself from the opening, landing in a roll headed straight for you. You heard Ares’ thunderous voice behind you, but you didn’t seem to care as Steve’s momentum slid him to you on his knees, his arms wrapping around your exhausted form. HIs back was turned to Ares, blocking you from the god’s view.
“Why?” You asked, looking up into Steve’s hardened but concerned face. You watched as he pulled his hands away from you, your blood staining his fingers and soaking into the sleeves of his uniform. You hadn’t realized how bad the stab wound had been. Seeing the extent of your injury made the pain more prevalent, Steve’s shielding presence causing you to let go of your desperation and adrenaline that kept you standing. Even the energy from the sword couldn’t carry you to the end. The Quinjet kept distracting Ares with bullets from its turrets, and Ares had taken the bait, his attention no longer on you.
“We don’t leave one of our own behind. Ever.” Steve’s words were etched into stone as if they were some ancient oath he was bound by. He spoke them with such ferocity that there was no way you could dismiss them; you understood it as a fact the moment you heard them. Your hands were gripping his forearms tightly, your legs wobbling as he pulled you to your feet.
“You’re risking everything,” You muttered, groaning as Steve scooped you up. He had seen your knees buckling, immediately cradling you in his arms before you toppled over. Your vision was starting to blur, but you could still make out his blue eyes through the haze and the soot covering his face.
“You’re worth the risk,” he spoke softly, despite the roar of violence, his eyes peering into your unfocused ones. You didn’t get a chance to really grapple with his words until he took off into a sprint, launching forward toward the open back of the Quinjet. You gripped him tightly, hiding your face in his neck as you heard Ares earth shattering scream of rage. You smelt ash, peering up and seeing one of the Quinjet’s engines smoking.
You didn’t really register the next moments, but you felt the g’s the Quinjet pulled to blast out of the mountain, away and out of Ares’ range. You huffed and puffed, the world spinning around you. You croaked out Steve’s name, a different kind of fear running through your veins. You heard the clatter of your sword as it hit the Quinjet floor, people’s thundering footsteps hurrying around the cabin.
The haze dropped once you felt the cool material of the gurney that you were placed on, the coolness feeling like it was melting your skin. The difference in temperatures was startling; your skin had been scorching from the heat of the forges. You gasped, your eyes widening in shock and your head tipping forward. The shock gave you a new wind, your thoughts clear for a split second.
“Head count? Do we have everybody?” you asked wildly, your head twisting and turning to try and count blurry heads.
Gentle hands pushed you back down despite the shock, your body sagging into the cushions of the gurney once you acclimatized. Your vision continued to fade in and out, your thoughts feeling like they were slugging through mud. You couldn’t pull them all together; they kept slipping through your grasp. All you could feel were the hands on you and the pinprick of a needle in your arm. Since you couldn’t see, you tried to listen, hearing overlapping murmurs from bustling people around you.
“She’s hemorrhaging- Bruce?!”
“Tony, have you called Cho?”
“She’ll be waiting for us, Friday will get us there fast.”
“We won’t make it if we don’t patch her up-”
“She needs blood!”
“Transfusion pack is right here-”
“Clint, sit down, give me your arm, and sit fucking still.”
You groaned, wanting to turn to your side to tell everybody to pipe down, to stop talking over each other. They’d get nothing done this way, but you already felt the gauze on your side. You forget these people thrived in their own chaos, still getting shit done even if they were screaming over one another. The familiarity of that was the only thought you seemed to hold onto when you hissed in pain, hands trying to secure the gauze. You jerked, but gentle hands were back on you.
“Everyone made it, don’t worry. Your job is done now,” a soft voice spoke near your ear. You turned, reaching through the haze to find his eyes. A large hand found yours, fingers winding together with yours, another hand resting gently on your forehead still damp with sweat. All you saw was blue when your head finally fell back, your vision going dark.
_______________________
It had been a long couple of days.
You hadn’t stayed conscious for long- the ride home on the Quinjet was a blur of red on metal. The team had kept you alive long enough for the ride back, Friday having made it back in record time. You had been rushed into the compound, quickly put into a surgery suite with Dr. Cho, a friend to the Avengers. You had learned afterward that she wasn’t a surgeon at all, but a gifted geneticist who had created advanced technology that rebuilt damaged human cells. While she did have to stitch some of you back up, her tech had done the rest.
It was brilliant really, and if you weren’t so tired, you would have been more enthralled and ready to bombard her with a slew of questions to understand her test development. She didn’t remain a stranger, for she came to check on you frequently. Even with her fancy tech, she required you to rest for a couple of days, letting the red and irritated skin heal properly. It twinged every bit you moved, so you took her word as law.
Instead of waking up in some fancy medical suite you were sure was somewhere around the compound, they had brought you back to your personal bed. It was a comfort to wake up under your familiar quilt; it smelt freshly laundered and felt like heaven. Your personal room never felt truly cozy and relaxed until now. With the sun peering through sheer curtained windows, your laundry neatly folded and tucked away, and a perfect view of your cherished items, you felt at peace.
You had visitors post mission, usually bringing bits of food and bottles of water that were demanded to be drunk. You had smiled brightly every time you heard footsteps come your way, glad to not have to sit with your own thoughts. You worried you would rip your new skin from Dr. Cho’s tech from how often your teammates had you laughing, usually Bucky and Sam. They had lifted your spirits exponentially, despite the growing resentment toward yourself for how the mission had gone. You supposed they were the sole reason your room had felt so full of joy.
They must have noticed the tendrils of self doubt eating away at you. Despite the peace you found with your teammates and the space around you, your mind would still wander when left alone. You would herd your thoughts like sheep to maintain the integrity of your serenity, keeping the feeling of calm close. But the wolves still came. Like thieves in the night, the anger and guilt would suddenly tear into you, taking the form of nightmares that would steal away the bits of peace you had sequestered.
You had almost let a river god drown you. Ares had beaten you to a pulp; along with the near devastating wound on your side, you also had a concussion and a couple of broken ribs from getting tossed into a wall. If you had died, your team would have been nothing but mince meat after Ares had his way with them. That was unacceptable in your eyes; you wouldn’t accept anything but a perfect performance.
You had asked and begged people to tell you what was going on, and if Tony had successfully used the Lemnos fire. Nobody gave you distinct answers, clearly told to stay vague with their answers. You asked if anyone else had been hurt, and found out that Tony had just recovered from his severe dehydration. Apparently, he had passed out well into the fight with Ares, the suit not able to keep up with the heat of the forges. In fact, most of the team had not handled the heat well. You hadn’t noticed how everyone who wasn’t a super soldier or a god was near heat stroke in the cabin of the Quinjet once you were bleeding out on the gurney. You had to rip those pieces of information from the team, which only increased the intensity of the guilt in your chest. Natasha must have noticed your far away look when you discussed it, immediately retreating out of your room to go get Steve.
Steve.
He had visited often in the last couple of days, but he usually stayed when you were asleep. You would wake to the remnants of him- his coffee cup and small leather journal sitting on your nightstand, the cup empty and the journal face down and open on whatever page he had been working on. He had always managed to slip away before you woke, which left a soft pang in your chest. You knew it was a bit ridiculous to feel so saddened by him being absent. He was team leader and was surely working with Tony on next steps. However, it seemed like he had been avoiding you, which only fueled the growing dark hole in your mind.
Shortly after Natasha left, he had walked in cautiously, like approaching a scared dog that was lashing out. He was dressed in a soft, navy hoodie and gray, athletic joggers, his hair still neatly styled. The comfortable look made you yearn for a hug just to feel the soft fabric. You tried to smile as he entered, but by the look on Steve’s face, the rest of you didn’t match your spread lips.
“Hey,” Steve had spoken softly, his footsteps quiet as he entered your room. There were a few arm chairs that now had a permanent residence by your side for your visitors. Steve had walked and found his seat next to you, his eyes never leaving you as he approached.
“How are you? I didn’t hear anything about you since we got back,” You asked, avoiding any subjects that revolved around you and whatever emotional turmoil Natasha had told him you were in. Steve didn’t push quite yet, his gaze travelling to the open window. He leaned forward in the chair, his forearms resting on his thighs, his hands loosely held together.
“I was fine. Nothing I haven't experienced before,” Steve’s eyes locked onto your sword, the sword of Odysseus now finely displayed on your wall near the door. You had polished it to perfection while you and Sam had chatted the other day. He was transfixed to it for a moment, a look you couldn’t decipher flashing across his face.
“I haven’t seen you at all, actually. I almost figured you were avoiding me,” You smiled, masking your insecurity with a light, teasing tone. It made Steve smile and chuckle, his head shaking.
“I was kind of avoiding you-” the words made your heart stop cold, but Steve’s next words instantly soothed you. “I had a hunch you’d ask me questions about Tony and the fire, and knowing you, I’d give them to you the moment you asked.” You thought you saw a hint of pink in Steve’s cheeks. You scoffed faintly, a smile still spread on your face. Before you could voice your opinion on Steve’s statement, he continued.
“I know you’re antsy for answers and updates, but Helen and I both insisted you use this time to fully decompress. The team tried their best to keep you entertained, and I know laying in bed is only nice for a bit. It’s good for you, you should keep resting, but Helen officially gave me the green light to take you out for a walk,” Steve smiled then, his eyes brightening as he glanced up at you. “As long as you’re up for it,” he added gently, his words soft.
You nearly groaned in relief hearing them. “If I go for a walk, will you give me answers?” You playfully raised your eyebrows.
Steve teased, pretending to ponder the thought, “Perhaps… as long as you behave.”
That had brought a real smile to your face, one that flashed your teeth as you slipped your quilt off of you, shifting to the edge of the bed. You felt heat rise up your neck and to your cheeks as his hand found yours, the other hovering over your unwounded side. You had expected to feel rough, calloused hands from years of war and violence, but it was the opposite. Steve’s hands were smooth and soft, probably the work of the serum smoothing over the roughed up skin. Despite the delicate touch, you could feel the strength in them. Hands that had stopped a god from driving a sword in his chest.
You got to your feet, wincing as you felt the pull of your new skin Dr. Cho had made you. Just thinking those words felt wrong, but it truly seemed like she just printed the new skin cells onto your wound. It healed like normal, but she said to expect soreness until you were back to normal movements. Steve’s empty hand wound its way behind your back, nestled there as a gentle reminder that you had him to lean on if walking became too painful.
“It might not be a brisk walk,” You murmured, frustration evident in your tone. You weren’t impressed with the progress of your healing, having hoped for a more speedy recovery. Steve didn’t share the sentiment, his head subtly shaking in disagreement.
“I’ve got nowhere else to be. I’m not here to rush you,” the delivery of his words were like a gentle caress. They were said with a tenderness that felt too intimate for a situation like this, certainly not a situation where your commander was helping you. You gulped, the room suddenly feeling too warm, too suffocating. Your eyes were suddenly glued to your feet, avoiding looking up into Steve’s gaze in case he saw the exact thoughts running through your mind. Shame covered you like a cloud, feeling a familiar burning in your gut that you used most of your will power to ignore.
After a few painful minutes of gathering yourself, mentally and physically, walking progressively got easier as you kept putting one foot in front of the other. Steve was there every step of the way, guiding you through hallways. You two walked in silence, not having crossed paths with any of the team in the rooms and halls you passed through. You found it almost peculiar, but Steve had been leading you somewhere new. You could tell by his expression that he had a specific destination in mind.
After a few more minutes of unfamiliar corridors, he guided you through a small archway and into a small library. You had not found it in your own wanderings around the compound, but from the state of it, it seemed like a place only Steve frequented. It wasn’t too small, but books covered the shelves that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. A generously cushioned window seat sat beneath the panes, worn pillows sitting in the corners. You breathed in the scent of the books, drifting into the little library. It seemed too rustic for the theming and design of the whole compound, but you figured it was another token of Tony’s thoughtfulness. It made you wonder how many hidden pockets were in the living quarters building, built specifically for his teammates.
“One of your hiding spots?” you asked, slowly finding your way to the window seat. Steve followed you, his thigh brushing yours as he sat. It was a large enough bench to hold two people, but with your muscled thighs and Steve’s large everything, there wasn’t much room left for space between you two.
“One of them. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking in here,” Steve let out a soft sigh, shifting so his back rested against the window. His blue eyes landed on you, his face softening. His gentle smile didn’t falter. “It can be a quieter space for you to talk, if you want it.”
You melted under his words, the care in them so immense that it enveloped you until it smothered your ugly feelings of anger and self-doubt. However, you still would rather talk about something else.
“I’d like to talk about what Tony’s been up to, and if you guys have made other plans. Ares told me something interesting in our fight that we will need to address,” You spoke matter of factly, acting all business like. Steve was having none of it, his eyebrow raised in exaggerated amusement.
“You know that’s not what I meant-”
“Yeah, but I’d still like to know.” You snapped back, immediately wincing at the tone of your voice. Steve didn’t bristle, in fact, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“Talk to me. We can talk about the mission later, but I can tell there's something far more important on your mind.” Steve’s words were quiet, not threatening or accusatory. It didn’t even feel probing, more like gently presenting you with facts. You thought you’d steeled your emotions more, but faced with reality, you had no choice but to address Steve’s concerns. You felt confident that you could talk to him without spilling all your secrets out and onto the floor.
“I was just angry with my performance during the mission. I took a lot of beatings that shouldn’t have happened on my watch, but according to Natasha, I’m being too hard on myself,” you relented, feeling like you had to spit the words out. You couldn’t even stand to look at him as you admitted it, even though it wasn’t necessarily what Steve was looking for if he had truly seen past your facade. Steve didn’t react, his body language still open.
“Hate to break it to you, but I knew that already,” Steve’s smile was teasing, a smile that he knew would make you feel a bit lighter. You huffed a laugh, feeling a bit braver.
“I was more terrified Ares was going to kill you guys, and I felt it would have been all my fault,” You spoke, your eyes finally finding Steve’s again. His smile was gone, but it didn’t scare you like you thought it would. He nodded instead, intently listening.
“I just- I feel responsible for bringing you into this world, and it keeps getting bigger the more stuff we find out and uncover. I can’t even pretend I can control what we encounter, and I just wasn’t prepared for Ares,” You ran your hand nervously across your face. Now that you were actually saying the words, it felt like they wouldn’t stop spilling out. Steve remained silent, but you could tell he had hung onto every word.
“Even knowing my mother specifically protected all of your minds from descending into madness, I just can’t let my guard down. I’ve seen so many powerful demigods die from this world, and I don’t know if I have the strength to watch mortals die at my own hands. Mortals that I care about, mortals that everyone needs. I dragged you all under with me, and gods, it feels like the fate of the Earth has fallen on my shoulders.”
Silence filled the room. You dropped your head in your hands, ready to weep at the realization of all your truths being laid out for Steve to inspect. It felt good releasing a bunch of feelings that were ready to burst out of you, but Steve’s silence was unnerving. After another moment, you finally looked up. Your watery eyes met his, and all you saw was a broken understanding. He stared back at you, his eyes desperately trying to relay a message to you.
“The responsibility of this situation does not rest on your shoulders, especially when it comes to our encounters with Greek monsters and gods. We all share the burden of protecting Earth, no matter who our enemy is. It’s what we signed up for when we became Avengers,” Steve spoke softly, his hands fidgeting in his lap. You listened, letting the notes of his voice soothe the ache in your chest.
“If you continue to take on this burden yourself, you’ll crumble. As much as I believe in the Avengers’ abilities to see this mission through, you are our rock. You laid the foundation, and we can only do so much against a greater evil that we don’t understand. You make us more prepared for the fight. We need you, and we can’t fight enemies on two different fronts. We are always here for you, but I don’t want to fear the damage you can do to yourself. We can’t fight gods and monsters if we are protecting you from yourself,” Steve’s hand reached out, covering yours that now laid limp on your flannel pant covered thighs. He gently squeezed.
“You can’t let this fear control you. The fear of us dying or failing turns your mistakes into weapons aimed at your self confidence. You have to trust us to not only finish the fight, but to keep ourselves alive. You don’t need to be simmering in this constant worry of us losing our minds, or worse. What we face, we face together which makes us stronger,” Steve’s words were earnest and hopeful. Yet, it did not stop the tears. It made it worse actually, visualizing too many deaths that occurred because you didn’t have that initial fear. It developed later, after you saw death after death, watching loved ones drop like flies. Steve seemed to sense where your thoughts traveled, both his hands now holding yours that demanded your gaze to be on him. You stared through the tears.
“You can tell me. Please. I can see there’s more– that’s not everything eating away at you,” Steve’s words were coming out in whispered desperation, begging you to let go of what you’ve had bottled in for years. You hadn’t let these old feelings simmer so close to the surface, especially in front of someone who still felt new. It wasn’t necessarily uncharted waters with Steve, you’ve had deep talks before, but you felt revealing too much made you seem weak. Still, Steve had a way of urging it out of you, purging your body of what’s been plaguing you for as long as you could remember. You took a breath, stealing Steve’s courage through your connected hands that rested in your lap.
“My dad-,” you choked, coughing on air. The tears spilled, memories flooding your senses, but the pressure from Steve’s hands were a reminder of where you were. It kept you anchored to the present, keeping you from falling back into the past.
“Some mortal parents are- well, not all of them are equipped with handling the truth of their children. Some don’t even know that their lovers are gods,” you murmured, your hold tightening on Steve’s hands as tore down your walls, stripping away the barbed wire so you could bare your soul. You had drawn an unmovable line long ago; one that kept you from sharing this with anyone but those closest to you. You had never even toed that line until now. Steve gave you the strength to cross it.
“My dad he- he didn’t know my mom was a god. Athena doesn’t bear children necessarily, but they technically loved each other just the same. He didn’t know anything about me until my mom arrived on his doorstep with me in her arms. But, he had never known what it would take to keep me safe. So, when the truth had been revealed to him later in my life, he didn’t handle it very well,” You squeezed your eyes shut, hearing distant crashes and shouts between your mother and father.
“He accepted it, accepted me as I was of course. He never stopped loving me, but the truth started tearing through his mind. His brilliant mind,” you croaked, watching as tears spilled onto your intertwined hands. “I’m sure you saw in my file- he was a S.H.I.E.L.D. scientist, nothing ground breaking or extraordinary, but it was what he loved to do. He loved working in the labs, developing simple analyte testing techniques. And I- I felt responsible for his deterioration that stole all that from him.” Shame overtook you again, rising like a tidal wave to crash down on you.
“He started speaking nonsense, forgetting things, screwing things up at work, and his coworkers noticed it quickly. He wasn’t himself, so S.H.I.E.L.D. retired him early. They were kind to him in that regard, but sitting at home all day just made him lose his mind further. He had nothing to busy himself with, to distract the mess in his head. He started tearing his hair out, drawing on the walls, destroying things. He turned to drugs to make him feel better, and eventually he just-” you couldn’t go on. His cause of death was in your file, Steve already knew the worst of it. Saying it yourself was still soul crushing, so you didn’t dare try.
You couldn’t believe you revealed the truth of it all. The relief was instant, the tight grip in your chest releasing, but it didn’t stop the swell. The shame wouldn’t leave you, and you feared you would have to live with it forever now that the worst secret of your life was revealed. It felt like it was all your fault when you were twelve, arriving home from school to find your father on the floor. You physically recoiled, willing for the memories to fade away.
Steve spoke your name, ripping you back out of the past. His voice acted as a hand that gripped your arm, yanking you out of the water of memories, keeping you from drowning in sorrow. You looked to him, no longer concerned with the red splotches on your cheeks or the red rimming your eyes from the waves of tears.
“I’m so sorry you lost your father,” Steve started, moving off the bench seat. Instead, he knelt in front of you, his hands anchored to your thighs and his eyes unmoving from yours. You sniffled, watching his face twist in heartbreak; he looked so broken from seeing you fall apart. His eyes too looked wet, but his tears didn’t spill.
“I’m sorry for all the important people you’ve lost. We aren’t strangers to the agony of it, you and I.” For a moment, Steve smiled, a sad yet sympathetic message written into his expression. “We have to live with the ghosts, but ignoring them only makes the loss torment us. Ignoring them makes the chasm even bigger. You can’t shove them away, hun.”
The term of endearment didn’t really register in your brain. It didn’t seem that important in the grand scheme of things since Steve had seen, was seeing, the ugliness in your soul. He could see your dead, acknowledged their presence that sometimes suffocated you until all you could see was spilt blood and limp bodies. Here he was still, not running from it or helping you push them away. He kept his hands on you even when he saw that you took sole responsibility for each loss you experienced, like a tally of debts that ran on endlessly. He respected the ghosts, embracing their presence like old friends.
“Peggy and Bucky used to haunt me; I would see them in my dreams, and I swear I’d see them in the faces of people I passed by. The first week out of the ice was hell, because out of everything I was thrown into, all I could think about was how I failed them,” Steve didn’t tear his gaze away from you, openly revealing a deep, dark part of himself.
“The people you lost made a choice. Your father made that choice, while not in his right mind, he made a choice. Your friends, your family of demigods made the choice to fight in the face of danger, knowing they could potentially save many lives. They might not have known their fate when they made their decisions, but they chose all the same. You didn’t force any of those people to take the paths they did.” Steve paused, choosing his next words carefully.
“You chose to fight on those helicarriers, and your friends chose to go with you. If I’m certain about anything, I’m sure you kept friends that closely aligned with your morals. They made their choice to fight, knowing they could lose their lives, but they did so to save others, just like you did. You can’t say you put the gun to their head when they held it on their own,” Steve whispered, one of his hands reaching for your cheek. His thumb wiped away the fresh tears, the gesture delicate and slow.
You felt a sob catch in your throat, causing you to choke, your whole face screwing as the cries released from your chest. Steve pulled you close, still careful of your wound, but cocooning you in his strong arms. You wept into his chest, your fists gripped tightly in the fabric of his hoodie. He muttered soft ‘I knows’, gently rocking you in his lap.
You stayed like that for gods know how long, crying until the tears ran dry and your eyes stung. Steve muttered sweet things into your ear, the sounds soothing like a lullaby. After your dam had been broken, every passing thought you had now spilled out of your mouth, revealing absolutely everything to your team leader, your captain.
It wasn’t until the wee hours of the night when Sam had found you two on the library floor, still wrapped in each other as you both spoke softly back and forth, sharing anything that came to mind. Sam seemed to recognize the brokenness in your gaze, his expression softening. He had come to find you, Dr. Cho having hounded and harassed everyone in the compound to get you back to bed. However, after catching you here with Steve, Sam decided that no, he wouldn’t tell Helen where you were. After a shared expression between him and Steve, one that seemed to say you would now regularly meet with Sam for VA type therapy sessions, he left without another word..
There you stayed, wrapped in Steve’s arms until your ghosts didn’t seem so menacing anymore.
Notes:
tell me all your thoughts about this please, this chapter felt most vulnerable for me to write. Thank you for reading and showing love for this story <3
Chapter 16: "Oh God Tony"
Notes:
hi darlings
im so excited for these next few chapters. It's going to be a wild ride so hang on tight loves! Thank you for your patience with me as i write slower and slower. Unfortunately, I'm going to be doing a shit ton of overtime at work soon, so I'll have even less free time to write. Don't worry, I still will be, I'll just be slow cause im insecure and don't want to give you bad chapters and let you down.
As always, thank you for reading. Here are our songs for this chapter:
Breaking Dishes, Rhianna -- first half of the chapter, the mission
Unknown / Nth, Hozier -- all scenes at the compound and after
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The deafening sounds of turret fire exploded around you, kicking up dirt and rocks from the soil near your feet. Steve’s arm was wrapped around you, his shield brought up in front of you two as the bullets ricocheted off the vibranium. Bark from trees exploded as bullets ripped through them, the pieces raining down into your hair. After a momentary pause, more bullets being fed into the turret, you took advantage and launched yourself toward the group of men guarding the small bunker housing the gun.
Steve was close on your heels, leaping impossibly high and into the turret house. As he punched and battered the men inside, you sliced and stabbed the armed men surrounding it. Your body hummed in harmony with the sword in your palm, your movements impossibly quick. The blade sliced through kevlar, disabling and killing the men with their automatic rifles aimed toward you, not a single bullet firing. One of the men had discarded his gun, unsheathing a large, serrated knife with a gleam in his eyes, the rest of his face covered by a black balaclava. You smiled, lunging forward with a quick strike. He managed a parry with his knife, but quickly met his end with a slice to his thigh and a deadly jab into his shoulder that sprayed blood. For good measure, you flung a powerful right hook into his face, sending him to the forest floor either out cold or dead.
Blood splattered and rained to the forest floor, the men all having collapsed in heaps after they met you and your blade. You huffed a breath, your eyes catching Steve as he emerged from the turret house with barely a mark on him. Not even a drop of blood was splattered on the chest of his all black suit. He smiled as he approached you, sauntering close enough that you two were nearly touching. He looked down at you, his mouth open to say something teasing, but crackling over the earpiece interrupted him.
“We need you back at the barn, we’ve got at least three demigods here,” Natasha’s voice was static in your ear, the thick forest interfering with the radio frequencies bouncing between your ear pieces. Despite the interference, you could tell her tone was tense, her words short and clipped.
“On our way,” Steve responded curtly. You wiped the blood on your blade on the front of your thigh, reaching behind to latch your sword onto the magnets on your shoulders and back. A lovely upgrade to your suit thanks to Tony. You looked back up to Steve, catching his gaze that was glued to you.
“How’s your side?” Steve asked, his eyes glancing down to your torso, his gaze also noting the specks of blood on your face. He absentmindedly wiped them away, his touch sending sparks down your spine. You did your best to keep the elation from your face, not wanting Steve to see the delight in your eyes.
“Perfect, ready for another round?” You almost smiled, but you weren’t looking forward to watching more halfbloods die. You hated to admit that you had been itching for another fight, another mission after being put on IR for a week, but the dread was still there. Sam’s voice sounded off in the back of your head, helping you keep the guilt away for now.
“Let’s get moving.” With that, you and Steve held a steady jog back to the barn where you left the rest of the team minutes ago. The bunker you two went after was high up on the mountain side, the peaks surrounding a ranch down below in the lush, green valley. Despite the height and range, the bunker posed a threat toward the rest of your team down on the ground, surrounding a large, red barn in the center of the valley.
The base you had infiltrated was one of Dr. Achlys’, this one deep in the heart of Montana, surrounded by wilderness and rough terrain. Her base posed as a simple cattle ranch, with livestock, horses, and cowboys, hell, there was even a ranch house. The cowboys in question were actually teams of her own hired gunmen and security details, armed to the teeth with heavy weapons and explosives. Natasha said something about the cattle the cowboys were ranching had brought in most of the money that funded the entire operation.
After your side had healed, Steve was adamant about striking one of Achlys’ bases that Tony had found thanks to his brilliant tracking system that located the celestial bronze inside her army of dead demigods. The team wanted to make Achlys hurt, and the best way to do so with limited knowledge of her whereabouts was to hit her resources and hit them hard. Take out her man power, her land, her weapons, and money. The team knew she had friends in high places after encountering her men before, people that could fund arsenals and infantry. You told the team to expect heavy resistance before you dropped them into the fray.
You and Steve emerged from groves of thick pines quickly, descending down the steep hillside to where chaos lay. You had left your teammates pressing forward in an organized formation, but now, everything had gone up into flames. Literally. The place was a disaster, horses and cows fleeing as their pens were destroyed or mowed down by mercenary vehicles that sped in, protecting whatever lay inside the giant red barn. Smoke and gunpowder was hazy in the air, vehicles having exploded and tossed grenades leaving behind small craters. Fires burned along the dry pasture, livestock feeders burning like bonfires from the hay inside them.
“Bucky, I have the device!” you shouted through your earpiece, moving as quickly as you could down the rocky mountainside toward the super soldier. The man was in the center of all the fire, his fists raised as three people surrounded him, armed to the teeth. The three were covered in kevlar, hefty bullet proof vests on their chests; you assumed they were the demigods based on Bucky constantly sending jaw shattering punches to their heads. You could hear his grunts and groans in your ear as he took hit after hit, taking on all three demigods while Natasha and Sam handled the infantry of cowboys. You could see him in the far distance, your speed not nearly enough to get there as quick as he needed you to.
“Hurry up!” He screamed back, putting all his power behind his metal arm as it swung and struck the controlled demigods. You could tell from their fighting style that perhaps they were Ares’ kids; they roared as they threw their fists, each of them wanting a piece of Bucky. They bared their teeth in viscous smiles, out for nothing but blood.
Wild livestock and horses raced past you as you continued your hasty trek down the mountain side. A light bulb went off in your head, prompting you to look over at Steve. “Know how to ride?” You asked, a small smirk playing on your face.
“Once, sometime in ‘44, in France,” Steve responded, his face dripping with dread as he saw the idea sparking in your head. You smiled, Steve hot on your tail as a fleeing horse sped toward you. He was unsaddled and wild, his eyes blazing. He was ginormous, nearly sixteen hands tall, and entirely muscled. He was a beast in itself, a massive Belgian Draught, but even though you weren’t a horse whisperer like Percy, you could see that it wasn’t fear in his eyes. Plus, how different could he be from a pegasus?
You jumped, your body arched as if you were going to vault the horse as he sped by. You looped your arms around his neck, hanging on for dear life as your momentum brought you around his neck and onto his back. He slid to a dead stop, rearing as Steve clambered onto his back. Steve’s arms wrapped around your torso tightly, keeping himself steady on the bareback of the beast.
“Come on, buddy,” You whispered, hanging onto the horse’s neck, steering him back towards your team with your ankles in his side. He whined and blew hot air out of his nostrils, his powerful hoofs pounding into the ground. He stood still, his eyes flicking about at the destruction before him. You soothed him, your hands petting his neck with gentleness. You swore you could feel a flicker of anger in this horse, watching as the pens and the pasture burned.
“I need your help pal, please,” You whispered into his ear, urging him forward. With a sudden urgency, the horse exploded into a gallop, heading back into the firefight. His hooves were pounding into the Earth, his power speeding him along impossibly fast. He practically soared over the terrain, all caution thrown to the wind. In no time, you were down the mountain, rushing toward the demigods that now had Bucky on his knees. Steve shoved your sword back into your palm, the blade gleaming in firelight as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. You sliced through men as you sped by, your blade edge finding necks and hearts faster than Natasha’s bullets.
Steve leapt off, landing in a graceful tumble, finding his next opponents in the group of cowboys trying to gun down Natasha and Sam. You kept your sights focused on Bucky, approaching at mach speed. You watched as the demigods' eyes shifted to you, their handlers somewhere giving them new directives with their celestial bronze remotes. They paused in their movements, unflinching as Bucky sent one more metal punch into the face of one of the demigods, the man large and burly. He watched in confusion as they stopped their attack, his tired eyes finding yours. He was cradling his side, blood oozing over his metal fingers. You saw a bloodied knife in one of the demigods’ hands, the only girl out of the three who barely looked a day over seventeen. Your horse reared as you brought him to an abrupt stop in front of the group, his hooves arching in the air dangerously.
You buried the sick feeling in your stomach as you slipped off your horse, slowly walking towards the hungry looking halfbloods. Their eyes weren’t so dead like Damien’s were, but rather, they were alight with uncaged rage. You nearly flinched when one of them spoke, your heart dropping into your stomach.
“We’re under direct orders to take you alive, but I’d like to see your pretty face die with my hand on your throat,” the large man sneered at you, his smirk deadly. You felt your own anger burn deep in the pits of your stomach, feeling your empathy nearly drain away. You didn’t know how he was even talking, with being half dead and all. You wondered if maybe Tony and Bruce had missed something in their first analysis; maybe these demigods could be salvaged from death.
All thoughts of that went out the window when the other man, a leaner, more toned halfblood cackled with sinister laughter, “I doubt she’d last so long.” You knew then that these were hot headed children of Ares. Despite the ire that was nearly drowning away logical thought, you focused on the notion that these poor souls were being controlled, whether aware of their thoughts or not. Bucky stuck to your side, his fists raised despite his nearly hunched posture.
You didn’t take the time to scold him, but raised your sword for the introductory blow, not reacting to the harsh words like they wanted you to. The demigods took that as their signal to re-engage, knives and blades slashing out in quick, decisive movements. Both you and Bucky dodged and weaved around their weapons, striking when able, but your attacks did nothing to slow them.
“Don’t kill them! Get them on their stomachs, so I can use Tony’s device!” you groaned out to Bucky, taking a hard hitting punch to the shoulder, not having dodged the big man’s flying fist fast enough. Bucky grunted in response, catching a bloody knife midair by his face that flew from the hand of the girl. You narrowed your focus to the big man, wanting to take him down first simply out of spite.
You ran toward him, driving your knee hard into his groin. You heard his wheeze of pain as he leaned over you, his fists flying blindly. You took the opportunity of his slumped form and drove the pommel of your sword into his sternum over and over until you heard it crack. As much as you wanted to take out the demigods humanely, without having to sever their spine, you still needed to take them down and incapacitate them. With being controlled and all, they were out for blood, so hurting them wasn’t necessarily out of the cards. You didn’t let the crack and moan of pain ring in your ears. Instead, you wrapped your hands around his slumped back and slammed the pommel into his back, sending him to the floor.
Your heart dropped to your stomach as he pulled you down with him, his elbow striking your ribs hard. You bellowed, trying to maneuver out of the man’s tree trunk arms to get your sword untangled from the mess of limbs. With unfathomable strength, the man pinned your arms and sent his skull slamming into yours. You saw stars, moaning in pain from the blow as it jostled your brain in your skull. The pain didn’t slow you, no, you felt the anger in you boil over. With a guttural shout, you untangled your leg from his, and sent your foot down into his knee. In a split second, his hold on your arms loosened, letting you yank them free. With a breath of relief, you sent him onto his stomach with a quick wrestling move Natasha had shown you.
The burly man was trying to scramble to his feet, so you slammed your body down into him, trying to keep him down into the dirt. Your hand flew to your pocket, ripping out a small, golden device that looked like a small taser, with two prongs on the end of it. The halfblood was fighting under your body weight, nearly pulling you up with him as he tried to rise to his feet. You pressed the device against the base of his neck desperately, watching as the prongs inserted into his skin. With a small twitch, the man fell back to the ground, his entire body stilling.
Without delay, you rose, launching yourself to full body tackle the female demigod that was nearly clawing at Bucky’s face, his metal arm holding her back. Down she went, scrambling and scratching as you took the device to the back of her head, and watched her body go limp. Bucky had taken down the last one himself, holding him with ease as you ended his life. You let out a dramatic sigh of relief, slumping to your knees. The gunfire around you had quieted, the rest of your crew having taken out all of the armed cowboys while you two were occupied.
“Any of that blood yours?” You asked with a bloody smile, watching Natasha as she sauntered up Her gaze shifting from the blood leaking from a small split in your scalp to the dead demigods on the ground. Natasha’s black suit was splattered with blood, most of it caking her knuckles.
“Never. The device worked?” She asked, her face impassive, but not void. She looked thoughtful as she crouched down near the demigod girl, looking her over and checking for any fluid leaking out of her nose or mouth. She seemed satisfied with the results of Tony’s new device.
“Yeah, it did just what Tony said it would,” you responded, making a mental note to tell him about it once back on the Quinjet. Once the team brought back the Lemnos fire, Tony had holed up in his lab for nearly a week. He worked day and night with the celestial bronze, inventing and engineering anything under the sun with the now malleable metal. He had made a device to try and sever the connection between the black box and the celestial bronze in the demigod’s brains, trying out several different hypotheses to try and salvage them, to keep them alive. However, after multiple attempts and Dr. Cho’s added brilliance, they could only create something that ended the halfblood’s lives quickly, without pain. After releasing them from the device’s control, there was simply nothing left to save.
Yet, today, the half bloods were talking, a huge difference between Damien and them. You wondered if Achlys found a way to preserve certain lobes of the brain, keeping them functioning while also maintaining control. It seemed entirely impossible due to the intense complexities of the brain, but Achlys was not some petty scientist. She was brilliant and the mentee to Dr. Zola. She was not to be underestimated, so you didn’t put it past her to somehow master the brain and all its neurons, finding the right connections to keep the halfbloods easily controlled while still having them capable of logical thought. However, these thoughts were for later with Tony and his band of merry scientists.
“Who cleans all this stuff up?” You asked, looking around at the mess left behind at the barn.
“Tony has some of the iron legion in route. They’ll put out the fires, but as for everything else, likely Achlys will come and pick up the pieces to see if she can salvage anything. Instead of coming for us, if local pd even gets out here, they’ll only find dead ends,” Steve spoke, dropping to a knee next to Bucky, his hands already packing bandages into his non-fatal wound.
You nodded absentmindedly, getting to your feet. You avoided the dead eyes of the demigods on the ground, but Natasha held out a hand, stopping you in your tracks. You looked to her expectantly, following her gaze as it landed on the large man you had taken down first. She had flipped him to his front, looking at the wound in his chest. You grimaced, not expecting to see an open wound in his chest from the multiple hits from the pommel of your sword. You hadn’t realized the power you put behind your blows, not expecting the open hole into the man’s chest cavity. However, that wasn’t what Natasha’s eyes were solely trained on. She stuck her gloved fingers into the wound, opening it wider to show the bone of his sternum, revealing a gleaming metal fused to half of it.
You screwed your eyes in confusion and slight disgust, kneeling down to see the shining part of his bone. Once you got a better look, Natasha’s fingers revealing more of his sternum, it felt like your stomach dropped into the Earth’s core.
“What the hell is she doing to these kids…” you whispered, looking at Natasha and the boys that were trying to comprehend your realization.
“That’s celestial bronze, isn’t it? Fused to the bone?” Natasha didn’t need to ask. She already knew. Everyone had gotten familiar with that shining bronze. Steve’s hands paused, Bucky’s metal fingers finishing his work for him.
“We need to tell Tony,” Steve muttered, his gaze never leaving yours. You knew he could see the pain in your eyes, knowing these demigods had been put through more hell, more experimentation than you or the team ever expected. No wonder they were half dead, you couldn’t imagine surviving through metal being shoved into your brain or being embedded into your bones.
You steeled yourself, not searching for numbness, but for bravery and strength. Sam would be proud to see his few therapy sessions with you were already changing your mindset. You took a breath, reaching for resolve instead of letting the guilt force you under.
“Before we do, I need to see what’s in that fucking barn.”
____________
The ride home felt like it had taken centuries. Bucky had rested the whole time in the medical gurney, sleeping fitfully as everyone kept quiet in the center of the cabin. Tony had called, practically begging for updates and findings. He was as horrified as you when you briefed him on the metal fused bone you found in that demigod; he had gone quiet, his gaze downturned while his hand rubbed at his goatee. You were sure he was already building theories in his head to try and find what Achlys’ endgame was and why it involved fusing a near indestructible metal to human bones. You and the team didn’t find anything new in the barn, just similar experimental laboratories to the first ones you found. It wasn’t exactly disappointing, but Tony was hoping for another thread to follow.
He let you guys rest, quickly jumping off the call after giving everyone recent developments on Ross. He had told Steve and the team that the Secretary of Defense had been sniffing around satellites and questionably gathered intel, suspicious of Tony and Steve’s rekindling. Tony now knew they were actively monitoring every resource they had to track Tony and other Avenger’s movements, the only team members they had eyes on being Clint and Rhodes. Clint had taken a plea deal, avoiding the nomad life Steve and his crew lived to be with his family. However, after joining the gang again, Ross found out Clint was back in play, which sent his alarm bells ringing. Ross still didn’t have any information on Steve and the nomad crew, the trail staying cold from when Steve broke them all out of the Raft. He could only assume that the gang was back together again if Clint and Rhodes were both back at the compound.
So, when the team decided to raid this base in Montana, Tony decided to take extra precautions to keep Ross off the team’s back for now or at least delay him. He kept easily recognizable team members home, specifically the Hulk and Thor, while also grounding Clint and Rhodes from the mission. To mask their presence, Tony had made entirely black suits for the entire team, removing any Avengers affiliate symbols and flashy colors. Steve’s shield had been repainted to a dark, gun metal grey, hopefully not really catching any suspicions from whatever government satellites Ross was working with. A flying metal frisbee was one thing, but without the red, white, and blue, Tony assumed they wouldn’t be able to confirm anything right away which gave the team time to stay on the move. Sam was ordered to only deploy his wings if entirely necessary, and Bucky’s metal arm was entirely covered in the black, sleek leather that made up most of his mission suit.
The black was a good look for everyone, if you were being entirely honest. You felt like you couldn’t take your eyes off Steve, the black a startling difference to his usual suits. Perhaps it was because he didn’t normally wear the color, but it only seemed to draw your gaze far more than it should. You swore it somehow made his shoulders, his arms, his everything bigger. Despite the black being easy on the eyes, it felt like an omen of another enemy at your backs.
The Quinjet was deployed in stealth mode, Tony keeping track with his heavily encrypted and protected Starkwatch, leaving the trace of the jet off of any other interface to prevent government tracking. It seemed extreme, but Tony wasn’t keen on tangoing with the Secretary. Tony found great amusement from stupefying government officials, but Ross seemed to hold a magical power of getting under Tony’s skin. He wasn’t necessarily bothered, but he was more than annoyed that Ross was starting to get pushy.
Once back at the Avengers compound, everyone dispersed after Steve’s mandatory debriefing. He had told Tony to gather everyone at the compound, so they would stay up to date with everything that went down on the mission. Everyone knew it was a victory for taking out one of Achlys’ bases, but by the tension in the room, it wasn’t enough to satisfy their itch to finish her for good. You glumly told the group of the celestial bronze infused into one of the demigod’s bones, watching the sorrow and horror fill some people’s gazes. There was not much to do with that information except to catalogue it for later. Steve quickly dismissed everyone after the mood in the room changed, ordering everyone to get some rest.
You went back to your room to clean up, finding yourself in the shower for nearly half an hour scrubbing away the blood on your hands and face, a mix of your own and others. You tried not to focus on that sinister shine in that halfblood’s chest, the gleaming bronze sparkling underneath all the blood and tissue. You felt the edges of your vision begin to blur, the brown and red swirling down the drain causing you to tunnel vision. Before you fell into a pit of despair, you quickly got out of the shower and into comfier clothes, finding yourself yearning for company.
As promised, after your breakdown to Steve in his hidden library, he started scheduling sessions with Sam into your Avengers’ training schedule. He still kept you on that jam packed training schedule in between missions, not letting you get too much free time to sit in your puddle of despair. Your first session with Sam had been one of the most eye-opening experiences you’ve had in a while, and the first tactic you two came up with to keep the ugly thoughts away, was reaching out to others.
A tall order, you had told him, explaining the concept of fatal flaws and how yours was that you shouldered responsibilities all by yourself, whether it be out of pride or a feeling of necessity and protectiveness. He laughed, said, “Screw your fatal flaw,” and told you that the next time you start feeling the demons clouding your thoughts, go find a buddy. Simply being with others was a tool to not just keep the demons away, but an easier way for you to sit with the guilt and fear without it consuming you. After that session, you practiced over and over to simply get up and search for a companion when the thoughts swirling in your mind became too much.
With your hair still dripping wet from the shower, you emerged from your room in search of an Avenger to hang with. You felt like a child again, looking for a friend on the playground. Your socked feet padded down the hall passed everyone’s closed doors, feeling less and less hopeful to find someone that wasn’t already resting. You were almost finished talking yourself out of your search when you entered the communal kitchen space, finding Thor bustling around the kitchen. He looked up as you shuffled in, smiling widely despite his puffed cheeks from food in his mouth.
“Hungry?” He asked around his stuffed cheeks, quickly turning his attention to a pan on the stovetop, whisking whatever lay inside gently. “I won’t have lunch ready for quite some time, but you are more than welcome to keep me company.” Thor’s tone was always kind, his low voice laced with warmth. Despite his massiveness and intimidating, deep voice, he was an affectionate man and made it very clear anytime you interacted with him.
“At least this time you can’t say the smell drew me in since you haven’t even started,” You huffed a laugh, hiding a smile behind your palm as Thor grinned brightly. You sat across the large kitchen island, watching Thor work his magic in the kitchen, feeling a strong sense of deja vu.
“Aye, you’re right about that.” Thor quickly diverted his attention back to the kitchen island, grabbing a large knife to quickly chop vegetables. After a moment, his voice grumbled from his chest, “Was there anything on your mind? Sometimes when I look at you, it seems your miles away, your thoughts in a different realm entirely.
You have grown used to Thor’s directness, but his words made you pause. You could hear Sam’s words in the back of your mind, telling you to speak the truth of what’s on your mind. He had told you that being brave and talking about the things that haunt you relinquished their control over you, bit by bit. You trusted Thor, the man had become a true friend quickly, so you could be brave.
“There’s a lot of bad things that happened in my past, and they messed me up pretty bad. The guilt and the fear just eats at me when I’m alone with my thoughts. I’ve just-... I’ve lost a lot and I don’t know if I can lose more,” You looked down sheepishly, your gaze glued to your lap. It was hard to admit things like this outloud when you knew everyone in your vicinity had experienced the same, if not worse things. It almost felt unfair for you to feel this way.
Thor paused in his movements, his hands resting down on the counter. He spoke your name, drawing your gaze from your lap. You looked up, worried about the look he would give you, but all you saw was a melancholic understanding.
“You are not alone in that. Everyone here deals with demons in their own way, so if you need company to keep them at bay, you can come find me anytime,” Thor gave you a gentle smile, his large hand reaching across the counter to grasp yours. He gave it a tight squeeze. “Busying my hands keeps me from getting lost in the death and agony I’ve felt over the many centuries. It never ends, but I will continue to carry on, bringing the memories with me.”
You watched Thor as his gaze flickered to some far away place. Before he lingered too long, he looked back up at you, pulling you to your feet. “Come. I’ll need help, if you’re up for it?” You smiled at the invitation, gratefully coming around the kitchen island to Thor’s side. He quickly started giving you small tasks, making small conversation as you two cooked side by side. It was easy to fall into step; Thor was right, busying your hands helped distract your mind. You could no longer feel the threat of darkness looming in the back of your mind. The fragrant vegetables, the sounds of the knife against the cuttingboard- it was a different kind of oasis that made you feel safe and comfortable.
Eventually, as the meal was near completion, the smells started attracting members of the team into the community space. One by one, people would approach, smiling sheepishly as to not seem like swooping vultures. However, Thor and you simply welcomed them in with warm smiles, handing them plates and silverware. Soon enough, the kitchen was bright with the sounds of conversations and plates being passed around, Thor in the center of it all as he dished out lunch from a giant pot on the stove. You beamed as Thor kept telling everyone how you were his new apprentice in the kitchen, multiple hands encouragingly slapping you on the shoulders or back as they passed by. You could feel the warmth of the room spread in your chest, your constant smile causing your cheeks ache.
“So this is why you keep me around,” Thor mumbled, feigning a glum pout as he piled a helping onto Clint’s plate.
Clint chuckled, slapping the back of Thor’s shoulder in a friendly gesture. “Of course not, Thor. We also keep you around for your Asgardian zucchini bread,” Clint grinned when Thor elbowed him, his smile matching the god’s as he found a spot at the dining table.
Your chest was full of light seeing everyone gathered together for a meal, not even the tension of the mission could cloud a wholesome evening. Everyone sat at the massive dinner table, every chair finally being put to use. You couldn’t help the grin on your face as you tucked into your meal, everyone chattering over their full plates. A few gave their compliments to you and Thor after the first bite, but most were nearly stuffing their faces with the food. You hadn’t felt this sense of family in a long time, seeing a full table and hearing comfortable laughs. It was radiant enough to send the darkness in your mind running for the hills.
“So, what’s the plan? Raid another one of Achlys’ bases?” Tony perked up, his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. Natasha groaned.
“No work talk at the dinner table, please,” She grumbled, giving Tony a very pointed glare. He rolled his eyes in return, mumbling something under his breath.
“I know it feels like we’re running out of time, Tony, but we are deserving of a break from it all. Especially you. If we keep running on fumes, we make mistakes. Those mistakes get ourselves and each other killed,” Steve spoke softly, looking at Tony who sat on his right. Tony stared at the man for a beat longer than necessary, his gaze softening. Everyone had tensed, waiting for Tony to lash out at poor Steve, but unexpectedly, the fight seemed to die out of him.
“Thanks, Steve,” Tony mumbled, looking away and back to his food. He missed the small smile that spread across Steve’s face, one that looked quite relieved.
“Unfortunately, we do need to talk about one thing,” Rhodes spoke up from the other side of Tony, wiping his hands in a napkin, his plate empty in front of him. Everyone at the table looked up from their emptying plates to the colonel, the light around everyone suddenly dimming.
“You guys are aware of Ross, and that he knows we’re up to something, but he’s planning a raid on the compound soon. I’ve heard talks from some of my friends-”
“Your Air Force buddies,” Tony cut in, clearly annoyed by his enormous eye roll. Rhodes gave Tony an exasperated look.
“Yes, Tony, my colleagues in my place of work-”
“And how can you trust them? If Ross has them under his thumb or not?” Tony clipped back, his tone biting, but Rhodes was a seasoned veteran when it came to handling the genius.
“Tones, I’m not relying on just word of mouth here. I’m-”
“When’s the raid?” Steve’s voice was brittle, cutting through Colonel Rhodes’ words succinctly, without even having to raise his voice. Rhodes looked at him with something akin to pity.
“Tomorrow,” he murmured, everyone around slowly shifting at the realization that dawned on them. Silverware slowly clinked on the surface of the table, chairs scraping as people pushed away for the table. It was as if the sun was hidden behind a cloud, the temperature dropping and the light vanquished in a single moment. Everyone looked at each other, waiting for the order to get the hell out of dodge before Ross threw them all back into that underwater prison.
“And you didn’t say something sooner?” Tony looked to his best friend, clearly ticked off.
“I just got notified of it, Tony. I wouldn’t have kept this to my chest, cause, in case you didn’t know, I’m not really in support of the government throwing our friends into some loony bin under the Atlantic,” Rhodes snapped back, his face only showing remorse while his tone raised higher and higher as he responded back to Tony’s venom.
“Where would you have us go? Ross might have his eyes on Wakanda to keep us from going back,” Bucky spoke, his gaze on Rhodes. Bucky looked entirely unnerved, the secretary a sore spot of his after all the events that happened nearly a year and a half ago. Rhodes locked eyes with Bucky, looking more sorry than anything.
“I- I don’t really know- anywhere but here is a safer option-”
“Ross can just do this? Burst into the compound whenever he wants without a warrant or anything?” You asked, finally piping up after watching everyone converse back and forth. You were the only one that hadn’t interacted with the man before, not having come into this world of superheroes until Ross had his eyes elsewhere.
“The accords let him do this- if he has reason and since a few of us are still fugitives, he doesn’t even need the UN’s agreement to hunt us down,” Natasha spoke, her gaze avoiding Tony’s. Even now, the accords were still a weak spot that made everyone on edge and tense. Just the mention of them had made everyone go taut; you swore you saw lightning spark at Thor’s finger tips and Bruce’s eyes go green.
“If he’s monitoring the compound now with satellites, then how will we even get out? I'd still like to see my family, with or without an ankle bracelet on. Anything beats that shithole in the ocean,” Clint murmured, quickly inhaling his second helping of food.
The room seemed to quiet at that, waiting for anyone with possible solutions to speak their mind. You looked around the room, nervous about the uncertainty of the situation. If they found someone like you, obviously enhanced, and prancing around with the Avengers, they could criminalize you for it or worse. The thought nearly made you hyperventilate.
“I still have one trick up my sleeve,” Tony seemed hesitant to whisper out his confession, his gaze trained on his empty plate. The room went still, Tony’s quivering heart beat the only sound in your ears. In a moment, Tony looked up, his head twisting to the side to make eye contact with Steve. A beat of understanding travelled between them, Steve giving Tony a subtle nod that seemed to give him the strength or confirmation that he’d go with whatever plan the genius was cooking up.
“I happen to have a spare aircraft that I didn’t disclose to the government when they were tallying up our assets for the accords,” Tony blurted out, looking around the room at a mixture of faces. Nobody seemed ultimately surprised, yet some eyebrows still shot up.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Tony” Rhodes shook his head in disbelief.
______________________
Tony, in fact, left out not only a spare aircraft out of the accord's disclosure, but the craft in question was a massive jet hidden away in a spare hangar hidden deep in the thick pines on the compound property. It was the bigger, scarier brother to the Quinjet, tricked out with weaponry, state of the art flying capabilities, and the tech inside dwarfed the hologram tech on the Quinjets. The massive aircraft had enough ballistic shielding to survive a trip into space if it so needed to.
Rhodes looked like he was ready to rip Tony down to hell and back when he laid his eyes on the massive wingspan, his gaze immediately drawn to the massive Avengers’ symbol on the side. Tony looked a bit sheepish at the sight of it, rubbing the back of his neck as Rhodes continuously glared at him.
“I had big plans for the growth of the Avengers after we defeated Ultron,” Tony muttered, his hand reaching out to the metal plates of the plane. His fingertips brushed along the side, his eyes lost as if in some dream world where the Avengers never broke up and the accords were something else than what they were now. Steve looked on in longing, his brows scrunched in pain. A pain that cut deep through his chest, a pain that you knew far better than yourself.
Tony started chuckling, mostly to himself, but it was enough to turn heads, attention from the massive craft back to himself. “I couldn’t help myself really- I saw the vision for what the future of the Avengers’ was and I ran with it, not really thinking about all the consequences. Typical, I know. I built this first, before anything else really.” He paused, daring a glance at Steve. “I kept calling it the Avenjet. Sounds stupid actually now that I say it out loud, but… it was something special. Something just for us.”
Steve’s face nearly broke at that. His feet were planted so firmly to the concrete floor, unsure to reach out to embrace Tony, or to leave him be. His eyes were wet, his throat bobbing as he swallowed whatever words he wanted to say. In the end, Steve let out a choked, “I’m sorry, Tony. I took away all that. Everything you planned for us, for the world-” Steve’s words got lodged in his throat, his gaze cast down at his feet. He shifted, clearly holding back all the sorrow that was starting to overtake him. Before he could say more, Tony finally met him halfway.
Tony shook his head. “No, no you didn’t, pal.” It came out in a whisper, Tony’s feet shuffling along the concrete until he wrapped his arms around the super soldier. That seemed to unlock something in Steve, as his large arms suctioned around Tony, making him look so small under Steve’s massive frame. His shoulders shook, and you almost felt the need to look away. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, so at war with the feelings inside himself. The dam had broken once Tony wrapped him in his arms, the action an act of forgiveness.
One by one, Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Bruce came up to them too, wrapping their arms around each other as best as they could. You weren’t there to witness the bond between these people snap so horrendously, but despite all the hurt and betrayal, you could see the magic in this moment as the bond was being sewn back together. You could see the relief in their shoulders, the tears on Steve’s cheeks that dripped down into Tony’s disheveled hair. Everyone was linked together tightly, refusing to let go.
Bucky wrapped an arm around you and Sam’s shoulders, looking on with some warmth in his eyes. You forgot the meaning of this moment for Bucky; you could see the pain in Bucky’s eyes every time Steve and Tony fought. You could see the responsibility of the rift between them settle on his shoulders more and more, his whole body sagging from the weight of it. Watching them finally build the bridge between them was as much of a relief to them as it was for Bucky. His eyes sparkled as he looked at them, a smile spreading across his face.
“Now that you guys have made up and everything, what’s the plan?” Bucky spoke into the silence, prompting the group to break apart. They lingered around each other, looking to Tony for answers. It was a rare, but beautiful sight. All the smiles on their faces that weren’t forced or faked.
“Well, all of you are going to get out of here using the jet-”
“The Avenjet.” Steve spoke, a wide smile following his words. He looked to Tony who let a corner of his mouth lift in amusement, his eyes bright as they locked with Steve’s.
“Usin the Avenjet,” Tony patted the back of Steve’s shoulder, looking to the rest of the team gathered round. “We need to get everybody out before Ross shows up tomorrow. Bruce can stay, Rhodey and I stay, but the rest of you will go up in the air on the Avenjet. They can’t track it, and it has an upgraded version of S.H.I.E.L.D. 's cloaking tech, so you guys should be safe for now.”
Tony looked at Clint, “They’ll get you back home to Laura and the kids- I’m sure Ross will come knocking, so give me or Rhodey a call if you need it, but I’m sure you and Laura can handle him just fine.” Clint gave Tony a quick hug in thanks, watching as Tony’s fingers flew across the hologram that displayed from his Starkwatch. The Avenjet came to life, like it was breathing for the first time.
Lights came on all along the body and wings of the aircraft, the boarding hatch hissing as it released from the body of the Avenjet, slowly lowering to the ground. Clint climbed the steps in haste, excited to seat himself into the pilot seat and get familiar with the new controls.
Before walking over to the hidden hangar, Tony had everyone pack their bags with all the necessities. The nomad crew hadn’t come with much, so their bags were nearly limp on their backs or in their hands. When packing you were worried about your room, wondering what Ross would think or do seeing a very occupied room with personal items. You had grabbed some of your more prized possessions to keep safe with you like your clay bead necklace, not wanting Ross to take things of yours if he saw fit. Tony assured you that your occupied room wouldn’t be a problem, and promised that Ross wouldn’t find you out. You still felt silly with your stuffed full duffel bag, comparing the weight of it to Steve’s nearly empty bag.
“Bucky and Sam,” Tony looked at the two men, approaching them with a more serious tone. “You two are staying with T’Challa. I’ve already contacted him, and he’ll be ready to pick you two up off the coast of Morocco. It’s better to keep all of you scattered to the wind, so they can’t pinpoint you all together. As long as you’re still in Wakanda,” Tony pointed his gaze to Bucky, “Ross will be beside himself trying to track you down.”
Bucky and Sam both thanked the genius, and made their way to the stairs to board the Avenjet. You hid your grin, watching Bucky linger and give Tony a back breaking hug. Tony still seemed a bit apprehensive, but he managed a smile that he hid in Bucky’s massive shoulder.
Tony looked at you after Sam and Bucky boarded, Steve and Natasha now bracketing your sides. “You’re going to be okay here with this Ross guy?” you asked, looking at Tony with concern. He grinned lazily.
“I like playing with my prey, so I’ll be having just as much fun as you guys,” Tony seemed amused by your confused expression. “We’ve been avoiding that info Ares told you under the mountain- that god killer arrow or whatever. You guys are going after it once you drop everybody off. Figured I’d keep my minions busy while I keep world nations off your backs.”
Natasha huffed in amusement. You had nearly forgotten the stress of finding this god killing arrow, your mind so focused on your most recent mission and Ross breathing down your team’s necks. You shuddered at the memory of fear that flooded Ares' words as he revealed the Arrow of Dodona now being in play. It was one thing to see a mighty god falter, but to see one with fear in his eyes was another kind of terror.
“While Ross is being a pain in my ass, you guys are headed to Greece. Find this arrow, cause whatever it is, the gods are scared of it. That means Achlys can’t have it,” Tony’s tone turned grave, his eyes travelling between you three as he spoke. Steve nodded in agreement, looking over to you.
“Do you have a lead on where we can start looking for this thing? We don’t have time to wander Greece until we stumble across it.” He asked softly, his gaze serious but still gentle as he looked at you. You nodded.
“I’ve got an idea, and usually, once we find a trace of what we’re looking for, the greek monsters and entities sort of lead us the rest of the way,” Steve nodded, his attention turning back to Tony who was still staring at you. You could see the cogs turning in his brain, that genius mind building and taking apart plans at light speed.
“You ever train in espionage?” Tony asked, catching the attention of Natasha. She seemed curious as her eyes landed on you, waiting for you to answer despite her memorization of your S.H.I.E.L.D. file.
“Once or twice, but Fury thought I was better at kicking down doors with a weapon in my hand. Why?” you narrowed your eyes in suspicion, watching Steve and Natasha have a conversation with their eyes alone.
“Well, if you’re to move around Greece without being noticed, which Steve and Natasha will undoubtedly catch people’s attention, then you’ll need to be more… careful about it,” Tony tilted his head to the side, still deep in thought. You could practically feel Natasha’s wide smile from your side.
“This… This is going to be fun,” Natasha’s grin was near feral, her smile directed toward you. She patted your shoulder, giving Tony and the team members being left behind a wave and bounded up the steps into the Avenjet.
“What- what was that?” you asked, your gaze slowly filling with a new kind of terror after witnessing Natasha’s glee. Steve chuckled, his hand falling on your shoulder to guide you to the stairs.
“I have a feeling Natasha’s going to have a lot of fun on this next mission.”
Notes:
espionage?? WONDER WHAT WILL HAPPEN IN THE NEXT CHAPTER???? HEHAMUAHAHAHAH
be ready for some ;)
ok bye love u
Chapter 17: I Learn How to Spy
Notes:
hi my dears
i missed you all- i hope the wait was worth this glorious chapter hehehehe
I didn't listen to any music this time that really matched the vibes that occur here. I'm pretty picky when it comes to music and how it matches the feel of my writing, but if you listened to any music that you think matched, please let me know! I'd love to hear!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“You look good,” Natasha said with a small, playful smile. She stepped back from her work, her gaze travelling up and down your body in a scrutinizing manner toward the outfit she had put you in.
“You can’t be fucking serious, Natasha.”
You looked down at your clothes, feeling like a fish out of water by the style of it. See, what you were used to was tactical gear or hoodies and sweatpants. There really wasn’t any in between for you, fashion never really being a part of your personality you explored. However, now with a mission where it was imperative to stay undercover, Natasha had you under the guise of an unassuming tourist. You knew you would have to get out of your comfort zone to excel at espionage, but your thoughts never travelled to the clothes you’d be wearing.
To be fair, the dress she had you in wasn’t ugly by any means. It was quite beautiful, the white linen flowing around your legs, the bodice of the dress snug yet still comfortable around your torso and chest. The straps that wrapped around your shoulders were thick, not flimsy things that didn’t support anything. It felt and looked lovely, but you felt a near heart attack looking at your uncovered arms and uncovered collar bones. You were ready to crawl out of your skin due to the unfamiliarity, thinking how easily you could be attacked without Kevlar or leather covering you.
“So what’s the plan again?” You huffed, feeling anxiety simmer in your belly as you looked at yourself in the mirror again, obsessively smoothing down the front skirt of the dress.
“Hold on there hotshot, we haven’t gotten that far,” Natasha chuckled lowly, walking over to the closed bathroom door, rapping on it softly. Steve responded on the other side, telling her he’d be out in a minute. While you waited, you drifted over to the open French doors, looking out from the stone balcony to the beautiful, blue Mediterranean. You let out a shaky breath, finding fleeting comfort in the gentle, warm breeze.
It had only been a couple days since you arrived in Greece. With the threat of Ross’s raid on the compound looming, everyone was quick to leave on the Avenjet. Clint was dropped off to his family first, his kids nearly tackling him into the grass as they exploded out of their farmhouse. Everyone watched with smiles as they waved goodbye, the team quickly headed to their next stop in Wakanda. Bucky and Sam weren’t pleased having the team separated, both of them grumbling insults aimed toward Ross constantly on the flight over. Despite their grievances, they greeted King T’Challa with warm smiles. Everyone seemed quite amused at your wobbly knees when you met the King; his smile was charming and kind as he took hold of your clammy hand in warm greeting.
Finally, Natasha had speedily brought you and Steve over to Greece, housing the Avenjet in a hangar which was owned by a “trusted friend”. Without question, Steve followed her every order and move, prompting you to follow suit. Before you could blink, Natasha acquired makeshift disguises in the form of sunglasses and hats for her and Steve. You were lucky, forgoing any disguises as the world didn’t know your name or face. With the skills of a seasoned spy, she had acquired a car and drove you all into the heart of Athens after getting your input on where to start your search for the Arrow. It all was a blur as you followed her lead, her demeanor never straying from its calm coolness.
She had chosen a tiny villa as your place to stay for now, an older woman seated behind the worn, wooden front desk when you three walked in at the dead of night. Her wrinkled eyes looked out at your group from behind wire rimmed glasses, her gray hair wrapped delicately in a long, beautiful braid. You had noticed her eyes lingering on Natasha and Steve, probably considering they both still wore their sunglasses and hats indoors while the moon rose above them, but she guided the three of you up the stairs to your rooms. For a small villa near the coast of Athens, the rooms were spacious and airy, natural light spilling through the sheer curtains covering the open windows and doors. The stone walls added to the immersion, feeling like you fell out of time and into a traditional Greek home.
“Quite a view isn’t it?” Steve’s voice cut through your haze of thoughts, causing you to whirl to him. He stood at your side, no longer wearing his dark, casual travelling outfit from earlier. Natasha had dressed him in a linen button down shirt, the sage green fabric complimenting his skin tone perfectly. His pants were a cream linen, and he wore thick, black rimmed glasses, ones that somehow managed to obscure his eye color. You gazed into his eyes, wondering what kind of tech Natasha was keeping in her back pocket to have glasses that were able to cover the recognizable blue of Steve’s irises. If you stared longer, you could see that the lenses not only obscured his eye color, but morphed the shape of his eyes as well.
“You think glasses will stop people from recognizing you?” You smiled, tilting your head in amusement as your eyes roamed, stopping at his styled hair. “And since when was your hair ever that long?” Steve smiled brightly, huffing a small laugh.
“My hair grows pretty fast, all it takes is a couple days without a trim and it's already outside of army regulation,” His hand reached behind his neck, trying to smooth down the hairs that were already curling around his ears. It looked just a bit shorter from the day you met him, but he had no full beard to match it. You swore you could see stubble coming in along his jaw and chin, so perhaps he planned to sport one soon. A better disguise than his usual bare jaw.
“I guess that would work to help disguise you,” you muttered, watching his hand drift through his hair, smoothing the strands down into his slick back hair style. The motion had you transfixed, subtly ignoring Natasha’s presence that had come between you.
“It was either that or box dye-”
“You’re not coming near my hair with that stuff” Steve laughed, giving Natasha a teasing look. She held her hands up in surrender, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“I called in a few favors last night,” Natasha pulled a small pile of papers out of her hoodie pocket, passing you and Steve false licenses and passports. She ushered both of you back inside from the balcony, closing the french doors behind her as you and Steve looked through the documents she gave you. You raised a questionable eyebrow, looking at her with slight scrutiny for just how fast she acquired these. She gave you a wink.
“We aren’t playing by quest rules here. We’re doing this my way which includes at least a few illegal activities to get the job done,” Natasha spoke, her words sounding more like orders than anything.
“I’m married?” You asked, looking at the details in your fake passport. Natasha snorted.
“Yeah, to him,” she elbowed Steve in the ribs, his head snapping up in response to her nonchalant words.
“WHAT?!” Steve and you spoke at the same time, both of you nearly blanching. Steve’s eyebrows had shot up sky high, his eyes wild with confusion and fury. You felt like your entire body turned clammy; all of a sudden the dress was too tight in all the wrong places, and the temperature of the room had gotten uncomfortably hot. Natasha rolled her eyes at your reactions, her hands latching to her hips, stanced to scold you and Steve.
“First of all, I know both of you are professionals and can handle having a cover and keeping your cool so Ross doesn’t find out we’re here. Second, you two are grown adults that shouldn’t giggle and blush like school girls when it comes to the frilly romantic stuff you might have to pull for the fate of the world by the way,” Natasha scolded, her tone not mean, but still harsh. Her unimpressed look toward you and Steve made your spine straighten, ready to take orders…despite the thundering in your chest.
You felt like your exposed skin was turning red, heat trickling into your face just thinking about being near Steve for this mission. The thought of having to act married to him, to hold him and touch him, perhaps even… You didn’t dare cast a glance his way as your cheeks turned red hot, not wishing to see whatever his reaction may be. If he was as against this as you were, you knew it was for entirely different reasons than the ones running through your brain. Natasha seemed to be staring at him hard, waiting for his objection. After a silent staring battle, Steve seemed to cave.
“You got a whole story to go along with it?” He asked, his face not as hardened as before, but still apprehensive of Natasha's approach to finding the arrow. She shrugged, her face remaining still.
“Easy. You two are newlyweds, on your honeymoon. Every couple you see here is on vacation for the same reason, so it makes you stand out less,” Natasha responded, holding back a smirk when Steve shook his head in disbelief.
“I don’t understand why you’re so against this, Steve. I’ve built solid aliases for you, and you have a trained demigod to lead you to the end goal. The last time you had to do anything close to keeping a cover, you had to kiss me on an escalator to avoid getting arrested by Nazis. At least this time the enemy won’t be ready to shoot you in a back alley if they catch you,” Natasha huffed, her annoyance slowly morphing into exasperation. You felt like you were dunked in another ice bath, your lost and confused stare meeting Natasha’s as you processed what she said. As if spotting your opening mouth, some retort about what on earth she just said on your tongue, she beat you to the punch and spoke.
“You can handle this, yeah?” This was a test. You knew it was. Some round about way for Natasha to see what you would do with a hurdle. It was a relatively easy hurdle that didn’t jeopardize anything, but if you failed to meet her standards set for you, it wouldn’t end well. At least in your eyes. She knew what happened when you were faced with a challenge. You had no choice, but to follow your instincts and your drive to face it.
“Of course I can,” you responded, wincing at the crack in your voice. You risked a glance at Steve. He had pushed the glasses up into his gelled hair, his blue eyes looking at you. You couldn’t decipher the emotions in his stare; the cloudy look was beyond any of your translation skills. Not in the mental tornado you were in. You were grateful he didn’t seem uncomfortable by your flushed skin.
“Where are we headed?” Steve asked, leaning back against the stone wall as you told him your plan.
__________
You felt a drop of sweat slip down your temple, the bead sliding down your face and down your neck. The newly summer heat had hit full force in Greece, the sun sitting high above. It didn’t help that every nerve of yours was tingling, the anxiety mixed with the heat making your entire body damp. Your arm was hooked through Steve’s, his giant frame nearly dwarfing yours as you walked side by side through the city streets. You were grateful for the airy dress Natasha had put you in, and her skilled hands that braided and pinned your hair up to keep it off your neck. It was a small reprieve from the heat sticking to your skin.
“Where are we headed, sweetheart?” Steve’s calm and gentle voice was usually a comfort, blanketing you in ease. However, knowing the stakes, knowing that this was all a ruse, it made the pet name far less sweet and endearing. It nearly made you flinch, but you steeled yourself, only allowing yourself to grip Steve’s arm a bit tighter.
You flashed him a stunning smile, slightly pulling on Steve’s arm as you took the lead climbing up the final steps to the Acropolis. The ancient stones didn’t look like much, but you treasured the dust and crumbling rock as if they were a piece of you. You had to resist every urge to reach out and touch the ancient works as you and Steve walked past, a part of you drawn to the ruins as if they would give you strength. You looked at Steve, his hazy eyes already looking at you through his thick rimmed glasses. “There’s a bunch of different ruins up here, but I want to see the Parthenon.”
“Lead the way,” He nodded in response, his eyes nearly looking lovesick, enough to convince you if you were a passerby. He started moving forward to follow you toward the ruins of the massive temple, the columns looming up ahead. He must have noticed too many lingering gazes in his peripherals, for Steve reached out his hand, pulling you close to his side. Your whole body flushed at the feeling of his strong torso, butterflies stirring in your stomach from the feel of his hand resting on your hip. His smile didn’t falter when he looked back down at you, the stretch of his lips looking more and more inviting now that he kept calling you “hun” and “wife”. Yet, his gaze acted as an apology for then hands he’d place on you. Steve was a traditional man through and through, and you could see the barest flash of a wince every time he felt his touching went too far. You trusted him to do what was right for the mission, so all you did was give him a confirming nod.
You’d get over the fact that your captain’s hands had to be on you in the name of keeping your covers, but it didn’t settle the fluttering in your stomach at that moment.
With your bodies nearly flush together, you and Steve walked amongst the crowds up on the stones of the Acropolis. You two slipped through tours, not necessarily feigning awe and wonder as you wandered toward the Parthenon. It was easy to squeeze through the crowds and guided tours as everyone’s gazes were on the history surrounding them. You subtly led Steve toward your mother’s temple while also pushing away the memories that bubbled up from the last time you were here. You swore you heard clanging metal and the roars of giants in the distance, the phantom sounds making the itch of paranoia linger in the back of your mind.
As you wove your way through droves of people, the crowd began to thin as you guided Steve to the side of the Parthenon that was not included in tours. Ropes blocked off certain walkways not meant for tours which was exactly what you were looking for. Steve stopped short as you ducked under ropes, your hand still in his.
“The arrow is here? In the Parthenon?” he asked, his brows furrowed as he looked around the columns. “It’s wide open, people will see us in here.”
“I know it’s weird, but The Mist will cloak us, no one should see us,” You responded, giving Steve’s hand a small tug over the rope barriers. Steve looked at you for a moment, his hesitation dissolving with a quick nod as he ducked under the ropes and followed you up the crumbling stones. You were grateful Natasha kept you in somewhat practical shoes, the dainty sandals keeping up despite the terrain.
You sighed as you brought Steve into the center of the Parthenon, grateful for the blissful shade the columns provided. You let yourself have a moment to look up at the ruins, appreciating every crumble and crack in the ancient stones. You didn’t realize your hand was still in Steve’s until you felt his thumb shift, gently rubbing the back of your palm.
“It feels wrong to be standing in here wearing tennis shoes,” Steve muttered, a small smile painted on his face as he admired the ruins as you were. You chuckled lightly, your gaze ripping away from the stones to look at him.
Your entire body yearned to lean back into his frame, to press yourself against his solidness as he looked up in wonder, yet you felt like you still didn’t have a proper excuse despite the fake wedding bands on your fingers. It was a want of the heart, so you couldn’t let yourself have it, but you could let yourself fantasize about him from afar. In this moment, as you waited for your mother to hear and respond to your fervent prayers you sent on your walk to the Acropolis, you watched Steve. With his large hand in yours, you let yourself drink him in.
You couldn’t recall when your thoughts on him had pivoted so drastically. One moment, you were nervous of his presence, wanting to appease him like a good soldier would for his commander. Then the next, you wanted his body pressed to yours, his hands on you as he looked at you with that tender gaze of his. You wanted to squash the more risque desires of your wandering mind, but the familiar smell of Steve, of cedarwood and leather, clouded your brain from any form of logic.
The smell was nearly intoxicating, acting as some sort of love potion that was pulling you along like a puppet by its strings. With bravery you didn’t know you had, you tugged Steve’s hand, pulling him close, feeling as if you were just an audience as your body acted on its own accord. There was still space between you two as you stood near one another, Steve’s eyes looking just as clouded as you felt. He didn’t seem to question the closeness between you, his eyes gaze boring into you as if seeing you for the first time as a lover versus a soldier in his squadron. Those stormy blues consumed every atom of you, uncharacteristic greed or gluttony driving him to pull you closer.
You felt him press his chest to yours, his hand winding around you to rest on your lower back. You could feel the alarm bells ringing in your head, but you felt like you had been dragged underwater. None of those alarms were loud enough for you to acknowledge for there was only this moment. Only the feel of him under your arms that wrapped around his neck. Only Steve.
Poof.
You heard the small puff of air before the maniacal laugh that interrupted the magic that had overcome you and Steve. The sudden presence next to you had pulled the masks off, revealing the true nature of the scene versus what your clouded judgments felt it was. With widening eyes, both of you seemed to realize just how close you two were. The sudden drop back into reality was nearly violent, the whiplash sending your mind into a spiral as you and Steve practically jumped apart from each other. Your face flushed as you spared a glance at Steve, his eyes pointedly looking elsewhere than your splotchy, red face.
You tried to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly from the scare of reality.
“Well that was entertaining,” you heard a snide and sultry voice sound from your side. You whipped your head toward the voice, your entire body stiffening in pure shock.
Before you, nearly a foot taller than Steve, stood Aphrodite. Her sparkling white robes cascaded down her front like waterfalls, her long legs visible under her fabrics through slits in the gown. Gaudy, golden chains hung from her neck, a large amulet hanging perfectly center in the dip of the fabric at her chest. Her bare feet trod over the stones lightly, shining hair flowing and curling around her perfectly. You gulped, knowing the tricks from earlier were from this goddess. She had the power to act alone, but you knew she liked to toy with demigods, her magic only amplifying the feelings you harbored deep in your chest to bring her some sort of sick and twisted amusement. You felt a pang of shame knowing you let her manipulate Steve too, cursing yourself for not seeing through her trick.
“Aphrodite,” You muttered, squaring your shoulders to meet her gaze. Steve’s face screwed in shock and confusion, his gaze turning to you, waiting for some sort of explanation. She was not the goddess you wanted, not the one you were praying to. Where the gods was your mother?!
The goddess’s chuckle was dark and teasing, her judgmental gaze raking you over. Steve was stone still, his gaze not moving from her. You couldn’t blame him; he wasn’t prepared for an ambush like this, one by a goddess that could morph herself into having characteristics that… pleased him. You didn’t warn him of your plans, assuming this detour would be short, but these plans certainly didn’t involve her.
“What do you want, Aphrodite?” You asked, clenching your fists by your side, desperately trying to hold back the anger that wanted to lash out. The goddess paid you no mind, her gaze lazily trained on her hands as she admired the winding leaves that grew along her arms, pink apple blossoms opening into the midday sunshine. She hummed lightly, her eyes sparkling under her perfect lashes.
“I was wondering about your intentions as well, my dear niece,” the goddess spoke slowly and steadily, her sultry smile making you grimace. Her grin only widened in amusement at your reactions.
“Tell me, why did you come to your mother’s temple? Even I know you're not that stupid to try and find the Arrow here, in the heart of a bustling city full of tourists. So answer me this, daughter of Athena, did you come to cry to your mother? Gain some sort of favor with her?”
Aphrodite’s smile turned sharp and vicious, her white teeth flashing dangerously in the sunshine. You swore her canines elongated the more you stared at her menacing smile. She had leaned over you as she spoke, forcing her body into your space as you grew more and more uncomfortable with her looming frame. You cast a glance over at Steve who was looking at Aphrodite with a clenched jaw, a deep, burning fire in his eyes.
“I came looking for answers I wouldn’t find on my own,” you whispered, the consonants on your words harsh and enunciated. You refused to back away from Aphrodite’s intimidation tactics, your gray eyes meeting hers unabashedly. The goddess of love simply hummed in disapproval.
“You’re still a feisty one, aren't you. Not even the trials of loss and aging seem to sate you from that fire you had when you were seventeen,” Aphrodite grumbled in annoyance, her gaze returning back to her nails, inspecting them as if they were far more interesting than you. Her words still struck a chord in you, your fingers twitching for a sword that wasn’t hung from your hips. You pushed down the heat that was growing in you, shoving it back until you’d need it. You could sense that Aphrodite wasn’t here for just taunts– she wanted something.
“If it’s all the same to you, Aunt,” you hissed the word, satiating your tone in contempt for the goddess, “Please send for my mother, and if not, I’ll be on my way.” You made to turn back to Steve, to snatch his hand and yank him back down the stairs from the Acropolis, away from whatever schemes you could sense Aphrodite had brewing.
“Your mother is not the only one with answers,” Aphrodite voiced, her words like a sweet song on a breeze. You could smell the apple blossoms that bloomed on her arms, the air full of their aroma, along with the faintest hint of sea foam. The scent made you detest her more, the overwhelming smell only reminding you of her tricks, her control over you and Steve mere moments ago. You resisted the urge to turn your attention back to her, finding strength once you locked your hand back to Steve’s.
“Come on,” you muttered, Steve following you close behind. You hated yourself for the breath of relief you felt when he didn’t look back at the beautiful goddess.
“I can give you the answers you seek. Name your price, and then I’ll name mine,” Aphrodite breathed out, her voice sounding low yet still breathy and alluring. You still didn’t look back, even with the promise of answers to the questions that have been stewing in your mind since you dove head first into this mess. Answers that the team needed, but you couldn’t risk Steve’s safety for that.
“Perhaps another form will convince you?” Aphrodite laughed as you felt the wind around you and Steve stir, the breeze kicking up the hem of your white dress. You stopped cold when you heard the low timbre in the voice coming behind you. Aphrodite’s voice, but it had changed. That voice called your name slowly. Once. Then twice. Steve had stopped dead in his tracks too, his head snapping behind you as the fire burning in his eyes winked out. He was frozen in his steps, eyes wide as if they were iced over, back in that tomb of a plane in the arctic.
You gulped, finding it a struggle to swallow when you heard your name called once more, the syllables drawn out in a sensual and tempting tone. You turned your head, seeing Steve standing before you, despite his hand still gripping yours like it was a lifeline. In Aphrodite’s place stood Steve, a different version of himself clad in that delicious navy blue stealth suit. The sight alone made your knees wobble, his golden hair looking perfectly disheveled as if he just took his cowl off after the heat of battle. The Steve in front of you smirked, his hands resting on his hips.
Your eyes flicked to the Steve still holding your hand, and saw his slack jaw, his fingers loosening from yours as if struck dumb. Steve wasn’t seeing himself, no, Aphrodite had given him a different form. One that would be enticing enough to make him stop in his tracks and consider. You could see it in his eyes that Aphrodite was giving him a much different view; perhaps Peggy had made him stop so suddenly.
As hard as Aphrodite tried to seduce you into her bidding, abusing your weak spot for your captain, you spotted all the imperfections in her characterization of the super soldier. The blue in his eyes was far too cold, and the stretch of his smirk lacked his usual humor that sparked something deep in your abdomen. It lacked his warmth and safety.
In your peripherals, you watched as Steve tensed, his gaze flicking between you and the goddess. You gave his hand an encouraging squeeze, an act that kept his eyes glued to you. They weren’t full of their usual warmth, but surprisingly, you found clarity in them. Like he had finally found something he was searching for. That clarity gave you the push to consider Aphrodite’s offer; you’d hear her out, but if her price was too high, then you and Steve would leave. Simple as that.
“Before I hear your bargain, change out of that ridiculous form,” you practically seethed, letting all your frustration in Aphrodite’s exploits translate into your gaze. Her form chuckled, Steve’s laugh, before a flash of light erupted, returning to the form you first saw her in. She wriggled in disgust, a sneer on her face.
“I wanted to change anyway. Too much self-righteousness clouding my judgment-”
“Oh that’s rich, coming from you-”
Steve’s hand graced your shoulder, immediately halting the vile words about to erupt from your throat. He barely shook his head, his gaze immediately telling you that the fight wasn’t worth the probable consequences of actually insulting the goddess.
“Save the fire for later.” He uttered, his voice barely audible as he murmured the words to you. You gave Steve a confirming nod, turning your attention back to Aphrodite who held her hips, her face flashing annoyance.
“The deal I have for you is simple. Most of the gods don’t want you to have the arrow, thinking it’s safest in the protection of the Dodona forest, but gods like me and your mother think it’s safer in the hands of the demigods. I suppose you and your friends have proven yourselves to be somewhat competent, so I’d rather trust it with ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’,” Aphrodite mocked the phrase, her words whining as she sneered them. You bristled, clamping your mouth shut from striking the goddess verbally. You nearly shook with it, your annoyance building with each word Aphrodite uttered. Yet, the information she was passing to you was nearly invaluable. You had to listen, no matter the cost.
“So, I’ll give you the location of the arrow. No one else will, the gods have commanded all the nymphs and local entities to stop you at any cost, so I’m afraid you can only get this information from me,” Aphrodite smiled wickedly.
“However, if you want the location, then I’ll need something in return. I want the Physician’s cure.”
You blanched, your jaw nearly dropping open at the bomb the goddess dropped. The last time you had journeyed to make the Physician’s cure had been a near perilous journey, Percy and his friends practically running on wild goose chases to get the ingredients.
“The last time we tried to make the Physician’s cure, we almost died. I didn’t even think the Physician’s cure worked on gods?” You quirked a brow, your brain running a mile a minute through myth and legend, combing the details on the brew and its abilities on gods. Aphrodite paused, watching your face as it twisted in thought.
“I’m not asking you to make it, darling niece. There is a brew already concocted, a vial of the cure so potent that if I were struck with the god killer arrow, I’d live. The only known variant of the brew that can save even a god from death,” Aphrodite muttered the words, as if they held the world’s most kept secret. And it was, truly. You couldn’t believe the information she just gave you, the power of this knowledge unmatched. You didn’t dare think about Achlys and if she knew this secret or not, for you knew the gods would have erased it from any myth or legend.
“W-where is this Physician’s cure?” You asked, your words stammering from the shock of the reveal. Steve stood as still as stone, watching your every move to understand the gravity of the words. He might not have understood that Aphrodite had revealed such a dangerous secret, but he knew the weight of it based on your reaction alone. You could see it in his furrowed eyebrows and his pondering gaze.
“Corinth. Apollo has a shrine there where it’s held, but it's heavily guarded, especially with such an adept mortal on the loose. She’s quite the thing really, entering realms no mortals have before, tricking gods and monsters alike,” Aphrodite inspected her nails as she spoke. “Give me that cure, and I will tell you exactly where to find the arrow. If it hasn’t fallen into that mortal’s hands.”
“And who’s to say I can’t just go to Dodona and find the arrow in some random forest?” You huffed, probing Aphrodite with more questions, testing her patience. She had a poor track record of keeping a cool head, so you figured exploiting that would be too good an opportunity to lose.
“Stupid girl. The Dodona forest never stays in one spot. It moves spots all over the world, wherever Western Civilization has rested,” Aphrodite huffed, disregarding your question immediately. You grit your teeth in frustration realizing your tactic didn’t work; you hoped to try and pull answers out of the goddess without getting the Physician’s Cure, but it hadn’t worked.
You almost hung your head with the weight of the decision that now lay before you. You looked to Steve, wondering what awaited you two if you decided to find that Physician’s Cure, what monsters you’d encounter that guarded it. Steve locked eyes with you, his gaze staring through you.
“Is it worth having the arrow?” He asked, his tone imploring. You could see him considering every variable, every scenario in his head.
“I don’t know the consequences of killing a god, but if she wants it, then I have a feeling that her end goal is far bigger than even I have considered. If she wants it, then she can’t have it,” you spoke lowly, making it clear that the words exchanged were meant for just you and Steve.Not that Aphrodite couldn’t hear it, but you still tried.
Steve slowly nodded, his gaze going distant as he churned over your words. With your hands linked, you could feel his steady heartbeat, the rhythm of it calming the anxiety brewing in your abdomen. You were unfathomably lucky to have such a partner at your side; his temperament kept you cool under the pressure of Aphrodite’s pushing, the goddess nearly making you blow a fuse.
“I think it’s worth the risk then. I’ve had experience with monsters of sorts,” Steve smiled, his humor wiping your face of that worried scowl. You huffed a laugh, taking a deep breath to gather yourself as you accepted the burden of this new mission. You turned to face Aphrodite, your spine straighter and your disposition infinitely stronger. The goddess smiled in amusement.
“You accept my offer then, niece?” She asked, her tone increasingly demeaning. You brushed aside the anger that wanted to flare in you, your only focus now on the new goal ahead of you.
“The Physician’s cure on steroids for the exact location of the god killing arrow.” You stated, making the terms of this bargain extremely clear so the goddess couldn’t find a way out, leaving no loophole available to her. She rolled her eyes.
“We have a deal then.” Before you could have the last word, her delicate fingers snapped, a zap sounding in the mausoleum as her body disappeared. She vanished into the ether, leaving behind the strong, sweet smell of apples and sea foam and a feeling of dread in your stomach.
__________________
“Corinth?” Natasha asked, her voice crackling over the cheap flip phone. You hummed in confirmation, your smile stretched on your face as Steve’s strong hand led you through the packed streets of Athens. Both of you were trying to get back to your room in the old woman’s villa, Steve having dialed up Natasha on a newly purchased flip phone from some supplies store for tourists. Natasha answered immediately, the sound of a mag clicking into her pistol clear as day in the background as she asked where the fight was.
After relaying the situation to her, she went quiet, deep in thought as she began to restructure your guys’ operation. You saw Steve’s eyes flicking about in your peripherals, the suspicion in them unnoticed by most, but you saw the embers of it. You wondered if he was noticing things you weren’t, your own suspicion growing like a dark root in your abdomen, but Natasha’s voice coming back through the line refocused you.
“Was this the only way to get the arrow?” Natasha asked, her words probing, but not out of her lack of faith in your story or judgement. It was her job to find the cracks, the weak spots of plans, and then exploit them, but now, as an Avenger, she used those skills to reinforce mission operations to keep the team from falling apart. She was doing her job to keep your trio safe and to get the job done in the most efficient way possible without anyone dying.
“It was the easier option, trust me.” you muttered, listening to Natasha’s steady breathing. You felt that nervousness build in you as Steve’s arm tightened around your waist, watching his line of sight. You couldn’t help but see his eyes note certain people; you couldn’t see what made them interesting to him, but you trusted those eyes. You knew something was flagging his attention, and the fact you couldn’t tell was what made that anxiety bloom.
“I’ll get us to Corinth, we might be delayed a day or two, but- ” Natasha suddenly went silent. You confirmed the line was still connected, wondering what had made a highly dangerous widow fall quiet. Your heart started to pick up pace, it’s beat feeling like a thundering in your chest. You didn’t dare speak into the line, waiting until Natasha spoke first or disconnected the call.
“I’ve been made. Keep your covers, I’ll meet you in Corinth.”
You heard the dial tone, the line disconnecting after Natasha’s near haunting words. Steve must have heard her, his head practically twitching at the sound of them. You quickly shut the flip phone, using your nimble fingers to thumb out the SD card. You discretely tossed the phone into a nearby trashcan, and crushed the card in your palm. Steve hummed, his hand rubbing circles into your hip as he kept his cool, not letting his heart rate spike or his suspicion show on his face. He leaned down to you as you walked, his lips brushing your ear.
“There are interpol officers everywhere. Don’t run, and follow my lead. Nothing is wrong.” His words were commands, ones that caused your heart to pound even harder. You hated to admit that his lips brushing your skin was a part of what made your heartbeat race, but the situation overtook your mind, disregarding the feel of his soft mouth at your ear.
You smiled, as if he whispered sweet nothings to you, looking up at him with the gaze of a lover. You pressed into him as you walked, never picking up your walking pace. You wrapped your arm around Steve’s own slim waist, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt to still your shaky fingers. You’d never really been in trouble with the law before, and the feeling of interpol officers at your back felt far more dangerous than empousa or hellhounds at your back.
You let your gaze fall on the streets in front of you, now finding the tells that Steve saw once you knew what to look for. You saw the fidgeting hands of undercover officers, watched their eyes gaze around, clear with the intent of finding someone. Your heart nearly stopped as you saw a fully geared up group of interpol S.W.A.T. emerge out of a villa similar to the one your trio had holed up in. You didn’t let your smile flicker, your gaze drifting away from them. You could feel Steve’s taught muscles under his shirt, his heart beat now gradually quickening.
You could feel the building of tension, both of you nearly heaving with the stress of the situation, officers around every corner, guns now in the hands of those looking for you. You weren’t sure how they got tipped off, but that answer didn’t matter now. You two needed to get out of here and fast, without guns getting drawn and possibly hurting civilians. Steve’s attention had caught somewhere, guiding you carefully over to the distant entrance of some restaurant with a view of the coast, the entirety of the seating area blocked by some retaining wall. It seemed like the perfect spot, and you nearly let out a sigh of relief.
Before you could, you noticed the attention of two undercover interpol officers, their gazes far too inquisitive on you. Your body tightened, straining to keep the panic off your smiling face. Steve had noticed, nearly pulling you along as his steps ever so slightly quickened. His hand unwrapped from your hips, slipping into your palm to interlock your fingers. There was a small queue now at the hostess stand at the top of the stairs, blocking your chances to get down into the restaurant and away from the roaming eyes of the officers as quickly as possible. At least not without gathering too much attention.
You felt their presence closing in, your smile nearly dropping from your face. The panic was rising like bile in your throat, your hand squeezing Steve’s with nearly all your strength. Steve yanked you under the shade of an awning nearby, his back hitting the stone of the building as he turned to you. Your momentum flung you into his chest, one of his arms wrapping around your back, his free hand cupping your jaw. Your heart leapt, your eyes questioning as you searched his face.
“I’m sorry-” he whispered, his own gaze flaring as he stared at you. You looked at him in confusion, your heart still pounding into your throat.
“Steve, wha-”
“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.” He whispered, his thumb brushing your heated cheeks, his eyes searching yours.
“Yes, Steve. I kno-”
Before you could say more, Steve smashed his lips into yours.
Notes:
MUAHAHHAHAHAHAHA
I hope you liked heheh<3
thank you for reading!!!
2FAB4UTHEATREDIVA on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 11:41PM UTC
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sw_echo on Chapter 1 Tue 25 Feb 2025 07:51PM UTC
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oh_christmasnuts on Chapter 1 Tue 25 Feb 2025 10:04PM UTC
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