AN: Hello. So, this story is set a few years before Avengers, and focuses mainly on Coulson and his meeting with a strange blond-haired girl (a demigod, if you didn't guess by the crossover category). She is an OC, so this probably won't involve Percy and the crew that much, if at all. There will be some shout-outs to other fandoms. See if you can find them! Hope you like it, please review. I'd love the feedback!

Disclaimer: I only own the blond girl.

Before it began, everything was silent.

Coulson rested his back against the weathered concrete, head cocked and listening. His hand lay tensed on his gun. Beside him, Natasha crouched, peering through a cloudy windowpane. She shifted, whispering to her comm.

"No threats in sight. Hallway is empty. The only doorways appear to be at either end." A voice crackled in Coulson's own ear.

Copy that. Units 2 and 4 report nothing as well. Unit 3 is covering a group of four hostiles on the north side, second floor.

"Permission to enter the building?"

Granted. The two agents glanced at each other, and Coulson nodded. Natasha began prying open the window while he watched behind them. He didn't like the feeling of being so in the open on a sunny day. From the side of the Two-story building to the forest 50 yards away, there was nothing but gravel and scrubby weeds. Beyond that, there were woods and fields until the nearest inhabited place a couple miles west, closer to Albany. Coulson glanced back at the building. It looked like nothing more than a regular business outpost, maybe a place where accountants and lawyers spent their days doing finances and waiting for someone to sue. But this was a SHIELD mission, and there was evidence that something else was up.

The window cracked open, and Natasha eased the pane up. She slipped through and crouched in the hallway, gun ready as she checked both ways. After a moment, Coulson followed.

"Which way?" He asked.

With a last glance behind, Natasha closed the window and started to the left. "The important stuff's always in the back." Coulson followed.

"Too right."

Three rooms and two more hallways later, Coulson was feeling a bit unnecessary. They'd only run across two guards and Natasha had taken them out with ease. As he followed her into the next room, he heard a thunk and a groan. Sighing, he finished stepping inside and looked over the unconscious woman sliding to the floor. Meeting Natasha's steady gaze, he raised an eyebrow.

"You're not leaving any for me." She kept a blank expression on her face, but he thought he caught a gleam in her eye.

"This is a mission. I don't have time to wait for you."

"Careful, Widow. A comment like that could hurt some people's feelings."

"Or their pride-" Natasha was stopped by a shout in the distance. She paused, listening. More screeches followed, as well as some frightening rumbling. They looked at each other, then hurried to the door. Moving as quickly as they dared, they crept through more rooms toward the continued sounds. Coulson noticed signs that people had been there recently. An abandoned cup of coffee, opened files of papers. As if they had run to help with whatever was making the sounds. Finally, a resounding crash echoed behind a steel door at the other end of the room. Coulson and Natasha crept over. In the sudden silence, Natasha leaned her ear against the door, then swung it open, lifting her gun. Coulson was right behind her. Stopping, they stared at the scene.

At least a dozen armed men and women were scattered around the ransacked room. Stress fractures spider-webbed across the walls and ceiling, and craters marked the floor. A polished metal table with spilled test tubes and equipment was overturned in the corner, and more machines lay broken, a few pinning down people. Movement caught Coulson's eye, and both he and Natasha trained their weapons on it. A girl rose unsteadily from a crouch near the back of the room, breathing heavily. Coulson immediately started assessing her. About thirteen, she had ruffled blond hair with a blue streak, and a dirt-smudged black and pink t-shirt with jean shorts. On her feet were chestnut boots with cobalt detailing and on her hands glittered two silver and bronze rings. No weapons. Her bright blue eyes met Coulson's. The wildness in them made him step back, but as she looked them over it faded, replaced with an apologetic look.

"Hi." Met with no response, she looked over the room, then back at them. "Sorry about all of this. Although, I guess you guys wouldn't care. You're not wearing the right outfits to be part of these jerks, and if you were, I feel like you would have attacked me by now." There was a long pause. "So…"

"Did you do this?" Her gaze whipped to Natasha.

"Well, not all of it. Some they sort of did to themselves." She smiled, and suddenly looked a lot younger and happier. "Between you and me, they really aren't good at fighting. At all. My turn. Who are you?"

Coulson stepped forward, lowering her gun, although Natasha kept hers pointed. 'We're with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, or SHIELD. We heard there was a dangerous crime ring here, and we came to investigate. What are you doing here?"

"Is that a government agency?"

"Yes."

"How do I know?" Coulson pulled his badge from a pocket and tossed it to her. She looked it over carefully, then nodded and threw it back. "I was clearing my head in the woods. Guess I got too close or something, because suddenly I was waking up here."

"And then what happened?" She smiled again, and gestured to the room.

"This." Natasha gave a short laugh. Ignoring her, Coulson asked another question.

"Who are you?" Immediately, the girl's face became guarded.

"I was told not to tell strangers that."

"We're from the government. You can trust us." Her expression became dark for a moment.

"The number of times I've heard that, you wouldn't believe." Coulson frowned. Maybe if he could gain some trust, she might cooperate more. He didn't know anything about this girl, but she obviously wasn't quite normal, and he knew it would probably be best if she came with them. His reverie was stopped by the girl's next question.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Phil Coulson, and this is the Black Widow, or Natasha Romanoff." Natasha shot him a look, but he ignored it. They'd never win any trust with code names.

He suddenly noticed that the girl was shaking slightly. Her face seemed pale, too. Concerned, he looked her over again and noticed the ginger way she held herself. "You're hurt."

Surprised, she glanced down. "Oh. Yeah, I guess so."

He started moving forward again, but slowly. "You should come with us to get that checked out." She immediately stumbled back, shaking her head.

"No. No, thanks, I'll be fine. In fact, I should probably be going now. I might have been missed, and you know, don't want to worry anyone, they might send out a search party, and we don't need that, so I'll just-"

"You can't go on that leg," Natasha cut in. "We can fix you up."

"No. Really. I'm fine. And my dad wouldn't like it, especially since you're with the government."

Coulson frowned. "Why not?"

The girl shrugged. "He just really wouldn't like it. My whole family'd go crazy actually, well, the half that likes me. You're really better off if I just leave."

Natasha scoffed at that. "What are they, part of the Mafia or something?"

"Yeah, something like that." In the silence that followed that statement, the girl began to edge sideways. Looking over, Coulson noticed a door on the right wall. If he was right, that led to a hallway along the side of the building. If she left…

"Listen, I don't care about your family. You're hurt, and this is the only building for miles. You won't be able to get that far. At least let us give you a ride somewhere."

The girl gave him one last apologetic smile. "Sorry, Mr. Coulson, sir. But that wouldn't work for me." She darted through the door, crashing it shut behind her.

"Go."

Natasha burst into action, springing across the room. She yanked the door open and sprinted into the next room. Following at a much slower pace, Coulson reached the door just as Natasha came back through. She looked at him. Behind her was a deserted hallway and an open window. "She's gone."

"And this thirteen-year-old girl just left the room, lost you, and escaped without alerting any of the other teams?"

"Yes, sir." Fury sank back into his chair, staring at the two agents in front of him. After a moment, Coulson tried to elaborate. "There wasn't time for her to have gotten to the treeline, and we had eyes on the building. She didn't even go out the window. She just disappeared."

"And that makes me feel so much better, Coulson, thank you." He thought for a moment. "You didn't get her name?"

"No. She said that she wasn't supposed to tell strangers who she was. She also mentioned that people said she could trust them before. It sounded like bad things had happened when she had," Natasha said.

"That doesn't surprise me. And how much damage did she do?"

"We didn't see anything, but the room was completely destroyed and more than a dozen armed guards were knocked unconscious."

Fury crossed his arms, resting a hand on his chin. "All right. Coulson, I want you to start looking into this in your free time. Log everything you know, and find out anything you don't. Try to find her again." He levelled a glare at them. "And find out her name.

"Dismissed."