Prologue

S.H.I.E.L.D. has fallen. All but a small handful of agents are either HYDRA, dead, or in jails all over the world awaiting trials for crimes against humanity. The small few that are left are those most trusted by Fury himself, hiding in his twenty-eight personal bunkers. Agent Coulson is one of those agents. He and his team have been hiding out for three years, saving everything they can get their hands on, building a newer, better S.H.I.E.L.D.

Agent Coulson, being the director of their makeshift agency, has turned each and every one of the secret bases into a different division. He is visiting one of their smaller archive bases in Kansas today. Coulson starts looking through all files that are connected with the words Hero, Greek, God, and Perseus. As of three years ago, he has been visiting every S.H.I.E.L.D. archive base and typing in those four words and every single time, nothing has shown up that is useful.

FLASHBACK

Three years ago, Agent Coulson was murdered by Loki the trickster during the battle of Manhattan and woke up ten days later. About six months after waking, HYDRA is in control of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson discovered how he was brought to life. But that is not what he is searching for.

During his time out from life, he found himself in a quaint little waiting room with magazines and a cute little potted plant in the corner. The seats looked as if they had been there for a century, rips and other ware'n tare to the fake leather lining. The most outstanding feature of the room was the people in it, or at least the sheer amount of people. There were young children and senior citizens sitting and standing on every available surface.

As he turned to further examine his surroundings, Coulson felt something appear in his hand. It was a slip of paper with the number thirty-four and the letter J written in very neat handwriting on one side and on the other it said

"Thank You for doing business with us.

We hope you have a wonderful Eternity!

(Except you thirty-four I,

you're to report to the front of judgment line two as soon as possible.)"

Now Coulson was really baffled. He knew that he had died, his talk with Fury right before was proof, but he was sure that no religion or scientific theory spoke of a waiting room, "take a number" afterlife…. Was there one? No, Coulson was sure of that. He never gave the afterlife much thought; but now, looking back on his life, he fully expected either some Norse afterlife or nothing at all. The existence of Thor had really shaken many of his beliefs.

As he looked around more, he saw a counter on the wall that read the number thirty-three. He figured that that must be the corresponding machine to his number card.

"Excuse me dear…" The woman sitting to Coulson's left asked, "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

She looked to be in her early forties, but she was still very beautiful. She was wearing a hospital gown with blood all around her legs. She had black hair up in a messy bun with little bits sticking everywhere as if she had been thrashing back and forth for hours.

"I think I'm dead. I can't say the same for you, but that's my idea." Coulson told the woman. She looked nice and he wasn't sure if should break the news to her, but she was going to learn sometime.

The woman's face turned into a sad frown and she looked like she was thinking hard about what Coulson had told her. "Oh. That makes much more sense." She started to tear up a little as she played with a locket that was around her neck. "I just wish I could have told my family that I loved them one more time…"

That woman was sobbing quietly and Coulson turned away, feeling her need to be left alone. He checked the machine on the wall again. It still read thirty-three. Coulson had no idea what was going to happen when the counter changed to his number, but he still felt a chill run through him at all the possibilities. He turned inward to feel the comfort of his own arms, and in doing so, saw the craziest and scariest thing he had ever seen in his life. Or not his life, he was still getting over the new 'dead' adjective added on to the list of words that could be used to describe him. He could see through himself. The chair he was 'sitting' on was not even bending under his weight.

The sound of the counter changing was deafening compared to Coulson's thoughts.

"Thirty-four" A large man in an Italian suit much like the one Coulson was wearing stood up from a desk unnoticed in Coulson's earlier examination of the room and walked to the elevator to press the down button. Half the inhabitants of the room stood up, including the now strait-faced woman previously sitting to his left. They all showed thirty-fours on their cards with differing letters. The elevator doors pulled open to reveal a normally sized elevator, with cheap, dirty mirrors lining the inside. The man whose name tag read CHARON in the same fancy script as on the cards entered the elevator and motioned for all the thirty-fours to enter as well. There was no way that they would all fit, but Coulson gave it a try.

Once everyone, amazingly, fit in the elevator, Charon shut the doors and everything changed. It was dark. He could feel them moving, but it wasn't only downwards anymore. There were trinkets floating in the dark water surrounding them. The woman from before, after opening it up and looking at the contents one last time, removed her locket and dropped it in with the other items.

The ride was slow going and the chills from earlier only became more prominent as they neared wherever it was they were going. The vessel they were in finally came to a stop and Charon instructed everyone to depart and follow the signs.

If Coulson thought the waiting room was crowded then he really had no idea what to do after getting off. He was in a sea of dead people. After hours of wading through the crowd he came up to a three way split. One had a sign over it that read

EZ DEATH

STRAIGHT TO THE FIELDS OF ASPHODEL

The other two splits were under the same sign that read

NORMAL JUDGMENT

They were numbered accordingly. The EZ DEATH line was going faster, but there were many more people there, so Coulson entered one of the other ones.

After a few more hours of waiting in line, he entered a building that looked a lot like the Supreme Court in Washington D.C.

"Phillip 'Phil' Coulson, You come before us to seek a place in the afterlife. Is this correct?" There were three beings on the pedestal, all see through people like himself. Coulson didn't know how to respond; but, being trained to improvise, answered affirmatively.

"We have reviewed your past actions, looked into your soul, and have noted your circumstances of death. We have discussed it and unanimously found you worthy of a place in Elysian Fields. Go your way." Coulson was ushered out and escorted by two scary looking skeletons in American Marine Guard uniforms with pieces of flesh still hanging off of their hands and faces. They brought him to this bright, wonderful grassland with a stream running through it and soft music playing from who-knows-where.

"Hello there, fancy seeing you again!" The woman from earlier ran up to him, her dirty hospital gown a drab, grey in comparison to their surroundings. She had a huge smile that made up for her apparel though with her black hair fluttering behind her as she approached him.

"Where are we?" She turned to take in the beauty surrounding them.

"I think the man from before said Elysian Fields."

"What men from before? I was brought straight here from the elevator." Coulson gaped at her. The line was dreadful and the very thought of someone getting VIP treatment in the afterlife bugged him.

"How did you manage that? The line was huge and there were people everywhere!"

"Oh…" the woman looked down, a habit she had probably formed in life to hide the act of blushing, which was impossible here. "I guess they know me down here."

Coulson didn't have time for her last sentence to register when three people approached.

"Sally? Is that you dear?"

"Ms. Jackson?"

There were two adults clinging to each other looking shocked by the woman's presence. Coulson though, now had a name to go with the nice lady. Sally Jackson.

"M-Mom…. Dad?" Sally quickly embraced the two. There was another young woman who looked to be in her young twenties waiting for her turn to hug Sally.

"Mrs. Jackson, it is wonderful to see you again, but… if I may, how did you get here?" The girl looked shocked, like as if her whole world had been turned upside-down. Sally turned to give the girl an even bigger hug. The girl was blonde with breathtaking grey eyes.

"I know, I didn't expect to be here this early, but I guess these things do happen, don't they?" She stopped hugging the girl and stepped back to address all three people. "I guess something must have gone wrong in the birth…" Sally started to tear up again. "I hope my little girl survived though! I don't know what I would do if she didn't!" As Coulson further examined Sally's attire, he made the connection that, yes, she had died in childbirth; and because of the lack of any young companion accompanying her, that the child had made it. The others only now became aware that there was another person in their midst.

"And who might you be?" The young blond girl asked, eyeing Coulson's large blood stain on his chest and the hole that had caused it. She held an interested gleam in her eyes, one so piercing that Coulson had to look away. He had never, in all his interrogation training, encountered such a strong feeling of uneasiness; as if he was an animal on a dissection table.

But before he could answer, Sally made to interrupt. "He's a friend, Annabeth." Sally gave Coulson a side hug as she recounted their meeting in the waiting room. She was so familiar with Coulson, but then again, they all had something in common. They were all dead. One thing Coulson could not figure out though, was why the blond, Annabeth, was there. She had no visible wounds to be found. Coulson new that there were ways to die without leaving a mark, but most of them were murder techniques and the rest were discounted because she obviously wasn't in a hospital gown.

"Why don't you have any fatal wounds on you?" Sally's father was about to reprimand Coulson for asking such a sensitive question, but Annabeth waved it off. "My family has a ritual where they always burn the body after death. That way, there are no scars or wounds to see. I actually died of a knife to the heart; but, after years of practice, they are pretty good at funerals."

"We died in an airplane crash!" Sally's parents clung to each other as they discussed their tragic death. Apparently their airplane had been hijacked by terrorists and Sally's father died of a gunshot wound to the head before the crash. Just like Annabeth, neither of them had any wounds at all. The explosion after the crash was their funeral pyre.

There was an awkward silence for a moment and then Annabeth asked "How was Percy doing when you last saw him?" Sally perked up immediately. "He was doing wonderfully…. Though he was freaking out over his little sister before she even started kicking! For the past six months he went into super protective older brother mode. I even caught him in the bathroom practicing intimidating faces in the mirror. He is such a sweetie." Annabeth laughed at that.

"Is this our grandson that we can't hear enough of? The one with the superpowers?" Sally's mother inquired of her daughter. "SEE!? He takes after me! I am amazing and this just proves that my progeny are better than yours!"

"How many times do I have to say it, THEY'RE BOTH OUR PROGENY! It takes two to make a baby, and I didn't see you walking around with a Sally in your womb for nine months!"

Sally blushed and Annabeth giggled at the squabbling couple. Coulson had to admit that they were perfect for each other. Though he would have to inquire after those superpowers they were talking about.

"Come! Let's introduce you both to the others. There are lots of friends of Percy that want to meet you Sally!" Annabeth lead everybody to the forest. They came to a small house that looked so cozy. It had smoke coming out of the chimney, signaling that someone was cooking inside.

There were so many people in the cabin that Coulson would have gotten a headache, but there was one name that he couldn't help but overhear from almost everybody's conversation. Percy.

Who was this man that everyone spoke of? After roving around the room for a few minutes, listening in on other conversations, Coulson needed to know more, but most of what he was hearing sounded like stories that you could find in the Odyssey or the Illiad. This amazing young boy had done so many things for every living thing on their planet. They spoke of dragons and monsters and beautiful witches and Guinea pigs. Coulson was determined to meet this hero.

Time Skip: Several Days Later (Still within flashback)

Coulson had moved into his own little townhouse in a suburb like community. He had a pet skeleton cat that would sit by the fireplace and a pomegranate garden by his front steps. He had assimilated nicely. His neighbors, a wonderful couple named Mr. and Mrs. Winston Churchill on his right were having a pasta dinner and had invited him to come. Coulson didn't need to, but he wanted to bring a house warming gift so he took a pair of cutters and cut some fruit off of his pomegranate bush. Mrs. Churchill had shown a love for the taste and couldn't get enough of them.

After wrapping the fruit in a thin baking cloth, Coulson exited his front door. He didn't bother to lock it, because this was the underworld, and no one stole anything in Elysian Fields. As he stepped off his front porch, Coulson felt a shocking pain in his head. He stumbled and fell off the last step, dropping the housewarming gift in the process. There wasn't supposed to be any pain the in heaven Coulson thought, before blacking out completely.

Winston and his wife never got their present and one of their guest plates was left unused that night.

End of Flashback

As he typed away at his computer in Kansas, Coulson felt that he needed to find Percy Jackson and fast. He didn't know why he felt that way, but Coulson was always one to act on instinct. It was reliable in the past, although it did get him killed.

As the screen flashed green for a 72% match to all searched words and descriptions, Coulson new that he would be in for one hell of a ride.

A/N

This is my first fic guys! Hope you like it! I will update after July 22, because I'm moving this week! I won't have access to my computer let alone any Wifi.

I can always use feedback!