Disclaimer: I own neither Percy Jackson nor the Avengers.

Marvel's Percy Jackson

Volume Two – Heroes and Villains and Everything in Between

Chapter Three – A Divine Favor

Percy snuck inside the abandoned – or supposed to be abandoned, anyway – warehouse and found himself a hiding place up in the rafters as he waited for the mortals to arrive. Mortals. They were always causing trouble, and usually Percy wouldn't mind it. It just meant a payday for him, but this … this was a whole different territory of trouble.

Only a few hours before he'd been very relaxed in his apartment, watching some stupid TV show and using Blackjack as a footstool. The pegasus didn't really care, though, as he was too busy inhaling donuts by the dozen.

But then, they had to go and ruin his day. They always ruined his days. Whether they were actually there or just a memory or even a freaking figment of Percy's imagination, the gods of Olympus always managed to sour his mood.

First, Hermes had to appear out of thin air right in front of his TV, blocking out the picture and scaring Blackjack into jumping up, causing Percy to fall off the sofa and down on the floor.

Second, the god of messengers and thieves and who even knew how many other things, had a favor to ask of Percy. Not a job, mind you, a favor. Because Percy was all about charity, wasn't he? That saving everyone stunt in front of all the world's cameras really had damaged his reputation.

The Olympians even had the gall to blame Percy for the fact that the job was necessary in the first place. So this idiot mortal had just seen Percy use his powers on TV, become convinced of the existence of gods and demigods, and then proceeded to gather many years' worth of evidence in only a few months? No, it wasn't even a little bit plausible.

The more likely explanation was that the gods' promiscuity had finally caught up to them. A single parent deciding that enough was enough, more than likely fed up with all the trouble following them around after one night of fun, probably deep into debt and all sorts of shit.

Just one phone call to the right conspiracy theorist or open-minded historian and money wouldn't have to be a problem for much longer. The gods had, in all likelihood, accidentally revealed themselves, and this whole mission was just Zeus looking for someone to blame, as per usual.

Which is exactly what Percy told Hermes and also exactly what caused the king of the gods to teleport him into the throne room where said god spent over three minutes just glaring at Percy, looking like he was trying to will him into a puddle on the floor without consciously using his vast powers.

So there he'd stood, in the middle of the Olympian gods' throne room, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, and glared right back. He, of course, didn't expect Zeus to liquidate or anything but it was still satisfying to see the surprise flitting in the king's eyes at the slightest hint of defiance.

"You, Perseus Jackson, have been given a task to complete on behalf of the gods of Olympus," Zeus rumbled. "Why have you not accepted?"

"I don't really see why I should. Lord Zeus." He added the man's title only as an afterthought.

"You, brat, listen up," Ares started, pointing a thick finger at Percy. "We're telling you to get off your ass and do what you're supposed to, that can't be hard to understand."

"Harder than beating you in a fight," Percy shot at the war god without even thinking about what he was saying, causing most of the gods' jaws to drop. The other gods spat out a shocked laugh that, in many cases, sounded more like a weird cough, and Ares himself probably hadn't even processed the insult when he was up on his feet, armor fully formed around him and a huge spear in his hand. The atmosphere was electric and it wasn't just because of Zeus.

"Sit down, Ares," Poseidon commanded, his own fingers dancing around the shaft of his trident. Silence reigned in the throne room until the god of war grunted unhappily and plopped back down in his throne, his fiery eyes narrowed to slits and glaring right at Percy who had to try his hardest not to let his rising anger get the best of him. That was Ares's game, that was his power, and Percy would not be manipulated.

"Listen to me, demigod," Zeus said, his tone of voice leaving no room for objections. "This is a quest you will undertake, willingly or not."

"What's in it for me?" Percy asked, not willing to give in without a little fight. The gods all regarded him intently for a few moments until Hades, whom Percy had not noticed until then, spoke in his quiet but authoritative voice,

"I have some information you might consider valuable," the god of the underworld started. "A man has escaped from my domain, even after Thanatos deposited him in his rightful place." Percy was confused, someone escaped Death? Like, the literal Death? And why would Percy even care about that? Was it just another quest he would be sent on after completing this one? Unless it was someone he cared about, someone like . . . no, stop. He didn't want to get his hopes up. Never again.

"One million dollars and two thousand Drachmas." Was Percy's offer. The only one he would give. "Dollars paid into my bank account and Drachmas in a case in my house. Tonight. Then, when the mission is finished, you tell me what information you have." To his surprise, the gods actually accepted after a fair bit of squabbling and murmuring and grumbling.

"You have yourself a deal, Perseus," Poseidon said, smiling slightly as he looked down at his son.

"Good." Percy nodded. "Now tell me everything I need to know."

And that's why Percy was hiding in the abandoned warehouse. Because of Dr. Declan Myers, a historian who looked older than some of the artifacts he studied and specialized in from the mythological world, and some other guy, Dr. Myers's assistant.

The good - or not so good - doctor stood, holding a briefcase that presumably held all of his research and possible witness testimonies, rocking from side to side out of nervousness. That case was Percy's target – anything else was either a bonus or collateral damage.

He really hoped there wouldn't be any collateral damage.

For a few minutes the three men waited, Percy well hidden and the other two standing out in the open. The assistant kept trying to strike up a conversation with Dr. Myers but the older man only answered with curt, monosyllabic words, obviously not in the mood for a friendly chat at the moment.

Just when Percy was starting to worry that he might fall asleep before the buyer showed up, the doors to the warehouse were thrown open violently, startling the two men on the ground into jumping higher than they looked able to. In walked three men, two of them obviously bodyguards to the third one, who looked like the stereotypical bad guy businessman.

"Gentlemen," businessman started, his arms spread out like he was welcoming them into his house and not meeting in an abandoned warehouse.

"Mr. Quinn," Dr. Myers said, hurrying to push the briefcase into his assistant's arms and extending a hand towards 'Mr. Quinn.'

"Please, call me Ian," the man said as he shook the old man's hand before frowning slightly. "On second thought, don't. Mr. Quinn is fine." The assistant made himself likely to offer his own hand but was blocked by one of the hulking bodyguards and promptly stepped back, looking like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

"We brought the research," Dr. Myers told Ian Quinn, whose eyes were already locked on the briefcase.

"In there, I presume?" Upon receiving a nod from the doctor, Quinn gestured towards the man's assistant and a bodyguard immediately grabbed the case, easily wrestling it from the wiry man.

"Hey, you said you'd pay us," the young man said weakly as Quinn opened the briefcase and shuffled quickly through its contents.

"Everything looks to be in order." Quinn was completely ignoring the men he seemed to be ripping off. He then looked Dr. Myers right in the eyes. "Kill them." His voice harbored no guilt, no emotion at all. The man was clearly a complete sociopath.

The bodyguards/henchmen both pulled out handguns and were about to open fire on a couple of - mostly - innocent history nerds when Percy interfered.

The demigod pulled out his own handguns and pulled both triggers once while jumping down from the rafters. One of the bullets hit its mark perfectly, burrowing into one of the men and leaving him alive but incapacitated for the moment. The other man, however, moved much faster than Percy expected and the bullet meant for him only hit the ground.

"Who's there?" Quinn demanded before jumping back when Percy landed on the ground right in front of him. The son of Poseidon pounced on Quinn and tore the briefcase out of his hands. He then slammed said briefcase into the businessman's jaw, more than likely loosening a few of his perfect teeth.

A small whimper behind him reminded Percy of the two men working for Quinn and he turned around. The man he'd shot was slowly standing up, clutching his shoulder, while the other held Dr. Myers by the throat, his gun pointed to the old man's head. Percy didn't have a lot of time to act and his wish to get everyone out of there alive was seeming more and more improbable by each passing second.

Percy decided then that it was time for desperate measures and he utilized way too much of his strength to mentally reach into the earth and rip through the ground what amounted to a single gallon of groundwater. He let a portion of the water grab the man's leg and simultaneously let another part of it cover the gun so, no matter what, Percy wouldn't have the blood of an old, frail man on his hands.

The guy was very big and he fell very hard to the ground, almost causing Percy to worry about his state until he groaned and tried to stand up. The mercenary, very tired after the use of his powers, simply kicked the man in the head, watching him crumple to the ground like a huge sack of flour.

The other grunt forgot about his injured shoulder for the time being, snorted like a bull and jumped Percy, causing both of them to fall to the ground and the briefcase to slide a few feet away, out of both their reaches.

The man didn't seem to care about the case at all, though, as he battered Percy to the ground, the blood from his shoulder coming out in spurts and hitting Percy in the face and making him feel like he was drowning. For the first time in years he was actually drowning and it was in blood, no less.

The demigod's consciousness was fading and he knew drastic measures were unavoidable. His body agreed, apparently, as his hand had already reached his pocket and was clenching the bronze pen within. Percy, almost feeling sorry for the man trying to pummel him to death, angled the pen inside his pocket and pushed the cap off, opening his eyes just in time to see the life leave the other man's body.

Percy felt the grunt go completely limp on top of him and then pushed the large body off. He pulled the sword out of the man's body, capped it and put his pen in his pocket before he stood up slowly and looked around. The doctor and his assistant were staring at him with wide eyes, as if they couldn't believe that he'd killed a man.

Percy himself was very upset with the way things turned out and he blamed himself for not being completely focused on the mission. Quinn was gone but the briefcase still lay on the ground, full of documents proving the existence of gods on earth.

"Do you have a pen and paper?" he asked the two men, not wanting to use the bloodied Riptide as the writing utensil it was supposed to be. They just stared at him for a few seconds until the assistant went to fumble in his pockets and produced exactly what Percy had asked for. He took it from the man and ripped the paper in two before writing a sentence on each and dropping one on each of the two men on the ground, along with a small, black device with a green blinking light.

On the one for the man still alive he wrote 'I'm a criminal. Arrest me.' and on the other he wrote, 'I'm dead. Don't worry about me.' He was in his mid-twenties but still used humor to deflect and even suppress negative emotions, something he knew wasn't healthy but what the Hades else was he supposed to do? His closest confidante was dead now, so he couldn't exactly get feedback from him, and the next best thing was a horse with wings. How weird would it be to get life advice from an equine whose only goal in life seemed to be to eat as many sugar cubes and donuts as possible until he became the first diabetic pegasus?

He walked towards the case and grunted in pain as he bent down to get it, he had a few ribs broken, apparently. The case was heavier than it looked but not a real problem. He picked it up and walked out of the warehouse.

"Wait!" yelled the assistant. "What about us?" Without even turning around, Percy answered coldly,

"Get out of here and forget about all of this. Forget about the briefcase, what's in it, and forget about everything you saw here today."

"But we can't do that," the old doctor insisted. "These are years of research you're holding there."

"I know. Now go away, SHIELD is going to be here in a minute." Percy wasn't lying about that. He dropped the notes for the SHIELD agents that he'd called with his transmitter and it wouldn't be long until the place would be swarmed. Percy rounded the corner of another building, whistled loudly and disappeared into a golden light, immediately reforming in the middle of the Olympians' throne room.

The gods looked slightly perturbed at his app/earance and Percy really couldn't say he blamed them for that. While his black suit hid the red color well, Percy's face was almost completely covered in blood. His lip was split and he had a black eye forming.

"I did your mission for you. No one will suspect that the high and mighty Greek gods are still around." He threw the case down on the floor and walked up to Hades. "Tell me what you know," he growled, not in the mood for any shit the gods might try.

Hades's obsidian eyes stared him down for a few seconds but he relented without any unnecessary arrogance, not something Percy had come to expect from the gods. The god of the underworld started talking and Percy could swear that his blood stopped flowing. His heart slowed down to nothing and his brain activity was only enough to register one thought.

He's alive.

A/N: So, yeah. You probably know who's back but I still wanted to end the chapter there. This update was much faster than the last one so there's that.

Next up - after the solo adventure, that is, not next chapter - is Captain America: The Winter Soldier. I think. I'll be using that storyline but it might be subject to some changes, so don't say I didn't warn you. After that, though, I don't know what to do. I could just go onto Age of Ultron and then Civil War and then put Percy in Doctor Strange when that comes out and then the Infinity Wars movies and whatnot, but I kinda want to make my own thing here. So I was thinking of messing a little with things. Maybe I'll move Percy through time and put him instead of Bucky and then he'll be the Winter Soldier, because that could be fun to write. Or maybe I'll just kill him off and end the story. Who knows?

Anyway, suggestions are appreciated. Tell me if you'd hate me if I turned Percy into the Winter Soldier, 'cause I kinda want to do that. Time travel is not necessary. But I don't know, I haven't really thought about it. Maybe I'll decide that it's a terrible idea, but still. Could be fun. Tell me what you think. Where does the story go next? What will Percy do next? Was 9/11 an inside job? Things like that.

Follow, favorite, review. We reached 200 with the last chapter and I'm so happy, thank you guys. You're amazing.

'Till next time,

-Manimal