Frist off let me just thank everyone who reviewed, favored, and followed my story. I'm so glad your all enjoying it so far and I really hope you all enjoy this next chapter. I'm going to aim for an update every Friday but sometimes they might be a bit late, like this one for example, sorry about that. Like I said before I have a plan on where I'd like this story to go and I know how I want things to play out. All right, enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: All Rights Belong to Marvel Comics and Rick Riordan
Chapter 2: No Rest For The Weary
"Yes, mom… Yes, I'm sure I'm fine," twenty-four year old Percy Jackson assured his frantic mother as he unlocked the door to his apartment. He was covered in ash from head to toe, clothes ripped practically to shreds, a Kevlar vest peeking out beneath the remains. A light thump echoed throughout the apartment as the door was thrown open. The apartment was large and spacious with a view that looked over New York City and all it glory. He kicked the door closed behind him before toeing off his boots and tossing his keys on the side table.
"… No mom, I'm not hurt…" he flicked the TV on before dragging his sore and beaten body to the kitchen. A light chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head.
"… Mom, if ninjas were real I think they'd have better things to do than stalk S.H.I.E.L.D agents…"
"… Yes, yes, I'm sure…" the coffee machine light went from red to green and a soft gurgled filled the room "...How've you been, I haven't seen you in two months? How's Ella? And Paul?"
The young man smirked as his mother launched into a story about his eight year old sister and her plans to join the school play next semester. As the coffee brewed he went on a search to find something to fill his empty stomach, but was disappointed upon opening the fridge. Some leftover takeout, a half jug of milk that was most defiantly spoilt by now, and beer, lots and lots of beer. Not to mention the horrific smell coming from it all. He wrinkled his nose and sighed, he'd have to go to the store tomorrow. For now he was pretty sure there was some soup in one of these cabinets.
"… Of course, I'd love to go… Yeah, just send me the date…" he flipped open another cabinet and was rewarded with a can of vegetable soup. Not the ideal dinner, but he'll take what he can get. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he poured it into a bowl "…I'll make sure to keep the ninjas away…"
A chuckle burst passed his lips as Sally scold him from the other side of the phone. He knew she wasn't really mad, the smile in her voice could be heard a mile away.
"… How are you doing mom? Everything alright with the baby?" two months ago Paul and Sally Blofis had been surprised to hear Sally was pregnant with another child. It happened just a week before Percy was put on the Paris assignment so he hadn't heard anything since. He was glad to hear that everything was going well.
A low beep echoed throughout the kitchen as Percy stuck his soup in the microwave and the bitter sweet scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Grabbing a mug from the cabinet he filled it until it was practically overflowing. He downed it in seconds before pouring himself another. Slumping into one of four kitchen chairs and he took a long, slow drink.
A content sigh escaped his lips as the warm liquid slipped down his throat. His mother was still on the phone even though he hadn't responded for quite some time now. He felt bad about that, but he really didn't think he could respond now anyways. The rate at which she was speaking had increased significantly and his muddled brain was having trouble making out exactly what she was saying.
He was just about to cut off her tirade when his microwave decided to let out an annoying high-pitched squeal.
Percy groaned as he hoisted himself off the old kitchen chair. Steam rose off the dish in waves, it was far too hot, but Percy was too hungry at this point to care. A third cup of coffee was poured before he turned to the living room.
He could've eaten his soup at the table, but, while he didn't have any serious injuries, his entire body ached and the stiff kitchen chair was starting to make his butt sore. So he shuffled over to the couch, snagging the remote on his way, and practically melted into the cushions.
"Hey mom," he'd cut her off, but he hadn't been able to make out a coherent sentence for quite some time now. "I have to go, but I promise to come visit soon…Love you too, tell Ella and Paul I say hi… Alright bye."
He set his phone on the side table, then proceeded to shove as much vegetable soup into his mouth as possible. When he'd turned the TV on earlier, it was set to the Channel Six news station. Percy didn't much care for the news, but he found the story they showed to be rather funny and ironic. In piercing High Definition the 32" flat screen showed an image of a rich man being led towards a police car, the noise of the sirens blaring from the speakers as lights flashed in the background. A caption scrolled along the bottom of the screen reading Motte Meets His Match.
The picture shifted to a slender blond woman standing just feet away from the scene. Her sparkling green eyes stared directly into the camera as she brought the mic to her lips.
"This is Alica Gray, Channel Six news, and I'm here reporting live from the Motte mansion in Paris, where famed business man, Mateo Motte, is being led away in handcuffs. It appears that Mr. Motte was trafficking in illegal drugs to gain back the fortune his uncle gambled away just before his the police force received an anonymous tip regarding Mr. Motte's account numbers. After extensive research it was found that an offshore account was wiring money directly into Mr. Motte's account on the first of each month. The ex-billionaire is now facing several years in prison without parole."
In the background the police were loading Motte into a squad car. But he wasn't going quietly.
"I am innocent I tell you, innocent! I 'ave never even touched drugs, I 'ave no idea 'ow zat money got in my account! Eet waz not me! Eet waz not me!"
His rant was cut off as the door was slammed shut.
Percy chuckled. The man would never learn.
"More on this breaking story as it continues. Now back to Garett Krane in the studio."
The image shifted again, this time it switched to that of a balding middle-aged man in a tailored black suit, hands folded neatly on a pristine oak desk.
"Thank you Alica."
Percy reached for the remote. He'd had enough of this for one day, not to mention The Big Bang Theory was playing on CBS. Garett was talking again, nothing Percy found interesting enough to listen to, but he'd just pressed the guide button when…
"… And there's still no word of Tony Stark. The multimillionaire went missing just three days ago during a military demonstration in Afghanistan. Search parties have been sent out, but all have come back empty-handed. In other news…"
Percy put his head in his hands and groaned. A rich aristocrat being held for ransom, nothing of interest, that happened once every couple of months, the police could handle it. A rich aristocrat that just so happened to be the mind behind of a multimillion dollar weapons developing agency disappearing with not so much as a ransom note. That's the kind of thing that caught S.H.I.E.L.D's attention. So, when his discarded phone let out a painfully off-key ballet of Under The Sea, Clint's idea of a joke, he wasn't surprised in the least.
His commanding officers smooth baritone echoed through the speakers of Percy's ancient flip phone (It kept the monsters away, that was all he cared about).
"Seen the news lately?"
Phil Coulson had never been one for pleasantries.
"Hello Phil, still have that sense of humor, I see." He paused for a moment, but was met with nothing but silence, he huffed a sigh. "Where am I headed?"
"Afghanistan, same base Stark disappeared from. You'll be working with Colonel Rhodes, Starks best friend and military asset. Jackson, it is imperative we find this man, his knowledge of advanced weaponry is extensive and if that were to get into to wrong hands…"
"Understood, where do I meet you?"
He spoke in short clipped sentences. "John F. Kennedy Airport, you have three hours, be ready."
"Yes, sir," the leather couch made an odd squelching sound as he pulled his legs free, "so, you run out of rookies to torture, or do you just miss me that much?"
Coulson didn't so much as chuckle, "Jackson," the man let out a slow sigh, "Stark is a person of interest, and you've found men on less. Your skills make you the best qualified for this mission. Airport, three hours, get moving." The line went dead.
Was that almost a compliment? Percy smirked, oh, he was never going to let Phil live this one down.
His back let out several loud pops during his trek down the hall. He took a quick shower, and packed a bag, before leaving once again.
He was gonna need more coffee.
~No Rest For The Weary~
The roar of a motorcycle could be heard from a mile away as a sleek blue Harley-Davidson fat boy turned into the parking lot of the JFK airport. Its chrome detailing shimmering in the full moon's light.
The brakes gave a small screech as the rider pulled into a parking spot and removed his helmet. Percy ran a hand through his ruffled hair as he cut the bikes engine. He missed riding, two months of waiting and the only time he had on his bike was a lousy half-hour.
He really hated Coulson.
The lobby was large and spacious. People bustled around dragging suitcases, dodging the other patrons. Percy had to stop for a second as a rather large family came running past in matching floral print.
And in the center of it all was the one and only Phil Coulson. His stiff posture and crisp black suit standing out like a sore thumb. A white manilla folder stuck out from under his arm and two paper cups with the words 'I' Made To Recycle' written across the side in large green lettering. Percy smirked, Coulson may be the director's right eye, but he didn't know the definition of the word stealth.
Percy probably wasn't much better himself. While he wasn't currently dressed in his uniform with his clean pressed white button down, leather riding jacket and black dress pants. Add in the dinged up combat boots and oversized duffel bag, he must've made for quite a sight.
Coulson didn't even wait for Percy to catch up to him completely. Instead nodding for the younger man to follow him. Together the two made their way to a cluster of chairs by the baggage claim. Percy grimaced, but didn't complain, he hated airports. They were always so loud, the chairs were hard and uncomfortable, and not to mention his hatred of planes and being anywhere not on solid land or water always made him feel sick.
But that didn't stop him from taking the seat next to his superior. He didn't say a word when the man passed him the manilla folder, it was about as thick as a small book, or his plane ticket. But he did thank the man profoundly when he was handed one of the paper cups.
It was warm, steam coming out the small lip on top. Vanilla with caramel and sugar, best coffee ever.
When he pulled the cup from his lips he saw Coulson giving him a disgusted look. Granted, it was the same way his face always looked, but after spending years with the man Percy could tell.
"I'll never understand how you and Barton drink that stuff." It was almost a joke, at least it was the closest Coulson ever came to telling one.
Percy rolled his eyes, "hey, we can't all run on tea and black coffee like you and Nat."
Coulson gave no response to that, instead he jumped right back to work. "Everything you need to know is contained in that file," Coulson gestured to the manila folder resting in Percy's lap.
"Guess the small talks over."
"Better get moving," Coulson stood, picking up a briefcase Percy hadn't noticed before, "wouldn't want to miss your flight."
Percy followed the older man's example, tucking the manilla folder under his arm as he went. He gave a lazy wave over his shoulder with his coffee cup.
"See you 'round Phil."
"Jackson," Percy froze and turned back to Coulson, confusion etched clear across his face. "There's more to this than we know. Keep your eyes open and stay alert."
Coulson looked even more serious than before, Percy hadn't thought that was possible. This was bad.
"Yes, sir."
~No Rest For The Weary~
Afghanistan was just as Percy imagined it would be. Hot, dusty, and full of sweaty men in military uniforms.
His plane had landed on a public airstrip where he was picked up by one Colonel James Rhodes. From there they set out to the base where he was introduced to General Gabriel. Together the two filled in the details of Starks disappearance. Which, thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D's research team, Percy already knew.
There wasn't much to go off. They finished the demonstration, Stark was in the first Humvee, shots were fired, a landline went off, then it all stopped. By the time the smoke cleared and they realized Stark was gone, it was already too late. They could only assume the man wasn't dead due to his background and military genius.
After that he was introduced to the team Rhodes had put together.
Together there were at least ten men and women, and while they were all introduced to him by name Percy knew he would never remember them all. Rhodey didn't talk much, at least not to him. Percy had a feeling the man didn't like him very much.
Rhodey wanted to head out to start the search the moment Percy arrived. Percy insisted they stay and look over the given evidence again before rushing into things. The other man hadn't liked that much.
So, that would be how Percy found himself in a small office. The desk overflowing with pictures and documents of Starks disappearance. Percy pushed them around, making sure to inspect every detail, while a scowling colonel leant against the door frame.
"This is nothing but a waste of time."
The other man wasn't happy. Percy could see why, he'd probably be the same way Clint or Natasha ever disappeared. But now was not the time to rush into things and overlook something important, and he told the man this. The other just scowled and turned to the window.
Percy shook his head, but otherwise ignored the man in favor of examining a photo taken at the scene. There wasn't much to go on. Several Humvees with extensive bullet damage, soldiers lying in the sand, shrapnel scattered across the ground from a rather large bomb. Besides that… nothing. He had absolutely nothing to go off of.
"You've found men on less," Percy mocked in a comically deep voice followed by a snort, "thanks a lot."
"You say something," Rhodey had turned around and was now giving him an almost amused look with a raised eyebrow.
Percy cleared his throat and shook his head, his cheeks dusted a slight pink.
"No, no…" he ran a hand through his already unruly raven locks, "I need to see the site for myself. It may turn up something new. Then we'll know where to start our search." He set the photo back on the desk with the others.
He didn't think it would, but they had to start somewhere, so why not the scene of the crime?
Coulson owed him big-time.
Well that's chapter 2! Hope you all liked it! So again I should have another chapter up by next Friday - still working on that whole 'regular updating thing' I put a reminder in my phone and everything. Again please favorite, follow, and review. Chapter 3 is already underway, and yes Tony Stark will actually be in that one.
But again thank you all for stoping by and I hope you come back and read more next time! Bye!
