5:28PM CEST

Budapest, Hungary

Europe

Percy breathed hard as he held the gun up, slowly spinning while back-to-back with both Natasha and Clint. They were in the Heroes Square in Budapest, Hungary, on what was supposed to be an undercover operation for Fury. It hadn't turned exactly out how they planned. Completely surrounded by about thirty armed members of a multinational arms dealing operation which was currently stationed in Budapest, it was a surprise that all three of them were mostly calm.

Percy held a Glock 22 in each hand, with an M4 strapped to his back. In his pocket sat Riptide, the weight comforting as he faced off this dangerous enemy, safe in the knowledge that he would be able to call upon his trusty weapon if need be. Strapped to both thighs was a holster, complete with knife. The same went for his forearms. He wore a skin-tight black shirt (carefully lacking in any symbols that may give away that he was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent) and a pair of tan camo pants, topped off with combat boots. His sea-green eyes were frantically flicking back and forth from his friends to the enemy, assessing any and all variables that may play a role in the upcoming fight.

Natasha was dressed in her usual black catsuit, a handgun in each hand, though hers were Glock 32s. Her vibrant red-hair went down her back, maybe three or four inches past her shoulder blades, curling up at the tips. At the moment, her hair was messy and knotted, a stark contrast to her usual look, with her hair done perfectly in such a way that it was attractive but also did not inhibit her ability to fight by flying around or falling in front of her striking jade green eyes. Her face showed complete calm, but her body was tensed up in such a way that would allow her to move with less than a moment's notice.

Clint was clad similarly to Percy, with the exception of having regular camo pants instead of tan ones. Loaded and drawn back in his hands was that fucking bow of his. A weapon Percy thought should not have been allowed to be used on missions. Percy was increasingly certain that one day Clint was gonna get himself killed because of his persistence and stubbornness regarding his weapon of choice. The only comfort Percy got was the fact that Clint too had a gun strapped to his back, an M82 Sniper Rifle.

The area was empty of civilians, having fled the moment they had spotted the number of guns being held by the soldiers and Percy, Clint and Nat. Percy was thankful for this, as he hated it when lives were needlessly ended as a result of a fight in which the civilians had no part of.

The three continued to spin slowly, barely blinking as they participated in the intense staring contest with the soldiers. Next to him, Percy saw Nat give the tiniest of head nods and signal a three with one of her hands, so incredibly subtly that there was no way the soldiers had noticed the movement.

The three changed to a two.

Then a one.

Then no fingers were up and Percy, Nat and Clint all fired at the soldiers directly in front of them. All three dropped instantly, not even making a noise as the life left their eyes. Chaos erupted around them, and Percy dropped to the floor, rolling instinctively as a bullet flew directly through the space that his head had occupied not a moment beforehand. He spun around an unloaded a bullet into the head of the soldier who had fired the shot. He angled the gun a little to the right and fired another bullet into a soldier as a spray of bullets narrowly missed him.

He held his arms out in both directions, making his body look like a tee, and then fired again, downing soldiers that had been about to shoot at Nat. He let out a minor grunt of pain as three bullets all pierced his left shoulder, blood spurting out from the wound rapidly. He swore quietly and ran behind one of the many statues in the square. He loaded off another shot at another soldier at the same moment that the man was punctured straight through the heart with an arrow. Percy nodded silently at Clint before ripping a piece of fabric from the hem of his shirt, tightly wrapping it around his shoulder, temporarily curtailing the blood flow.

He rolled his shoulder a few times before aiming and firing at one man who had just noticed his position and had begun focusing fire at Percy's position. The man dropped dead and Percy sprinted from his position, barrelling into the skinniest soldier on the battleground. The man fell to the floor, sickening crunches being heard from multiple different places on his left side, as well as a scream of pain. Percy dropped one of his guns on the ground, straddling the man and loading off several punches to his face, his nose breaking and blood spurting disgustingly out of it. Using his other Glock, Percy fired one shot perfectly between the man's eyes, and his body relaxed completely.

Percy jumped up and retrieved his other gun from ground. Sprinting back into the thick of the battle, Percy's battle instincts were at a peak, his body reacting before his mind could think. He ducked, rolled, spun, shot and killed without a thought. The fighting continued on for some time, all three of them dealing maximum damage and taking minimal damage in return.

This was where Percy really flourished, in the heat of battle, allowing his instincts to guide his actions, not a care in the world except for the target in front of him, and then the next, and then the next after that.

The three of them worked like a well-oiled machine, every action complementing the other's, each person having one another's backs.

The enemy had never stood a chance. Exactly three minutes and twelve seconds after the fight began, it was over. Percy stood still, panting slightly for a few moments while he and his friends caught their breaths.

"Well...that went well." Percy eventually said. Natasha snorted indelicately, and Clint let out a bark of laughter before clapping Percy on the shoulder.

"You could say that." he replied. Percy chuckled good naturedly before he remembered where they were.

"So, what do we do about this lot?" he asked.

"Clean-up will deal with them," Natasha replied, "We just need to call Coulson and he'll get someone over here."

"Alright."

There was silence for a few moments.

"Anyone up for a drink in the meantime?" Clint asked.

"You better believe it, nemnogo ptitsa" Natasha replied. Clint scowled at the nickname, but mostly ignored it.

"I saw a bar down on Király street," Percy said, "I saw it on the way here, it's only about a mile west."

"Good, I need a least a dozen shots after that affair," Natasha replied, and Percy snorted.

"You always need a dozen shots,"

_OoOoOoOoO_

8:42PM EDT

New York, USA

North America

Stepping out of the aircraft and onto the jet bridge, Percy breathed a sigh of relief. He never enjoyed flying, even after he had left the Greek world where everyone presumably thought he was dead.

A shadow crossed Percy's face and he brought that train of thought to a grinding halt. It would do no good getting angry in the middle of an airport. He quickly caught up with his two companions just as Clint got off the phone with someone.

"Coulson says that debriefing is at 1300 hours tomorrow." he informed Percy, who nodded in understanding.

"Alright, you guys wanna crash at my place tonight?" he asked the two assassins. He received a shoulder shrug and a nod in return and so began the walk to baggage claim.

After collecting their luggage, they made their way outside and caught a cab back to Percy's apartment.

As they passed onto Interstate-678, Percy pondered his life as its current point. He was twenty years old working for a top-secret government intelligence agency. He had a penthouse apartment on upper west side Manhattan (S.H.I.E.L.D payed surprisingly well).

Had you told Percy when he was fourteen that he would accomplish more in the mortal world than in the mythological world he probably would have laughed in your face before rattling off some sassy comment or another before walking away. Here he was though, despite his past, more successful than he ever would've been had he stayed in the world of gods, demigods and monsters.

But really, there was no way he was going back to them or her. Not after what she had done to him.

Percy scowled deeply before shaking the thoughts from his head once again. He had to stop dwelling on the past, even if that was only two and a half years ago.

He forcibly removed himself from his thoughts just as they passed over Queensboro Bridge and in no time, they were arriving outside his apartment on West 69th.

Percy paid the driver and the three of them hopped out of the cab, walking up the front steps and making their way into the complex, walking up several flights of steps before coming up to Percy's door.

Picking the welcome mat up, Percy retrieved the key from under it and unlocked the door, the lock giving a satisfying click before the door swung open, revealing Percy's large apartment.

The three of the stepped inside and Percy immediately retreated to the kitchen while the other two plopped themselves down on Percy's couch, turning the TV on as Percy rummaged around in his fridge, retrieving three beers and throwing one each at Clint and Natasha, who both caught the beverage without trouble.

Sitting down between the two super spies, Percy yanked the remote from Clint's grip and began flicking through the channels, only stopping when finding 'The Office'.

"Better," Percy replied, leaning back into the couch.

"What's so great about this show anyway?" Clint asked while rolling his eyes.

"You can never go wrong with Steve Carell," Percy replied automatically, having given the exact same answer every other time the question had been asked. Natasha snorted, and Clint rolled his eyes, so hard Percy thought that Clint might be able to see his own brain.

A/N: Alright I know this prologue is short, but I just wanted to set up a few key points before we start getting into the plot. Now, we probably won't see anyone from Camp for a few chapters, but I will be introducing a couple key characters next chapter.

-DarthVaderHasReallyBadAsthma