Annabeth tried to pay attention to what Miss Potts was saying—she honestly did. Her grey eyes were trained on her laptop while her fingers flew over the keys. Her ears picked up each and every word the CEO of the multi-billion dollar company was saying. She herself thought she was doing a very good job.
"-Mr Stark is not a fan of the colour orange, so please keep that out of his room at all costs," Miss Potts continued.
Annabeth blinked for a moment and stared at her laptop screen. The words, don't forget to by oranges, flashed on the white word document. Brows furrowing in confusion, she gazed up at Miss Potts, "sorry, Miss Potts, I seemed to have fazed out…"
Annabeth would've sworn she was listening. Maybe she was just a little out of it. Work wasn't her key priority at the moment. She had gotten a message last night from Chiron, one she had been dreading. Thalia hasn't returned from her hunt. Maybe it was nothing get worked up about. She was only three days over due…but with the string of demigod disappearances. Drew, Will, and even now Clarisse...Annabeth was worried whoever was taking the Demigods was working their way up the food chain.
"Not a problem," Potts smiled at her, "you seem a little…fazed."
"Just a late night, that's all," Annabeth gave what she thought was a reassuring smile, "you were saying something about orange?"
"Mr Stark doesn't like a lot of orange-"
"Unless its involved in flames, explosions or carrots," Tony Stark himself walked into the room, coffee in one hand and a plate of Hot Pockets in the other, "have you ever seen whale poo? That just completely ruined the colour orange for me-"
"Tony," Potts shook her head as she replied to a message, "manners."
"Right," Tony stuck out the plate of Hot Pockets towards Annabeth, "Hot Pocket."
"Uh, no thank you," Annabeth replied with a polite shake of her head.
"Good, 'cuz they're mine," the billionaire set down the coffee, "I can't make that meeting tomorrow."
"You said you would go," Pepper said in a low voice.
"Bruce decided to move in. I can't just leave the good doctor," Tony replied, "why don't you go? You like sushi."
"But you're the one who can speak Japanese," Pepper replied, "I'll go if you attend the board meeting Monday."
"Deal," Tony replied with a beaming smile.
Annabeth, thanks to the distraction, got time to read through her notes before shutting the laptop down. Slipping it into her bag she felt her hand brush her bronze dagger. For a moment she let herself grip the hilt, feeling some of her troubles just melt away at its touch. Shaking herself mentally she let the dagger go and straightened up.
"I need your help with this," Dr Banner suddenly entered Peppers office.
"Is this 'bombard Potts' day?" Pepper muttered to herself.
"Sorry, Miss Potts," Bruce said truthfully before turning to Tony, "Its Nano."
"Nano?" Tony asked.
"The-" he looked at Annabeth, "-we should talk out in the hall."
As the two scientists exited the room, Annabeth stood up and gathered up her bag. "I better be going," she said apologetically, "I'll have the first 3-D scale ready by the time you come back."
"Thank you for your time," Pepper said.
Annabeth was about to walk out into the hall, but she saw the coffee Mr Stark had left. Picking it up she went into the hall and found the two geniuses speaking at lightening fast speed.
"That would have caused outwards irregularities-" Tony was saying.
"Not at it's position. By the positioning it was placed it would have had to be done by someone at the top of their field. The surgery itself would've taken hours. Death rate would be high-"
"You left your coffee," Annabeth said during a pause.
"Thank you," Tony took it and filled his mouth with the dark drink. He then bit into a Hot Pocket, "but why these people? What do they offer from different people? Mutants?"
Annabeth turned towards the elevator and stepped aside as it opened. A man she had seen in the tower before, close cropped blonde hair and blue eyes, walked out. He wore a blue jacket and Annabeth realised it was exactly like Percy's. A bird was spread out in a circle, obviously a logo of some sort. Their arms brushed as he walked past, and Annabeth felt the hairs on her arm rise.
"Stay away, Bird Brain," Stark threatened.
"I have a message from Fury," the agent replied calmly.
"So you're his messenger hawk?" Stark smirked.
"You have to go to Agent Jacksons apartment. He can't come to you," the agent crossed his arms over his chest.
Annabeth entered the elevator and tried to think about what the agent meant. What would Percy be doing with a doctor? Her mind began to run at a million miles an hour, but she quickly stopped it. Now wasn't the time to worry about her ex. She had to worry about Thalia.
The daughter of Athena caught a taxi to camp. She entered the oasis and smiled at the smell of strawberries. Slinging her handbag onto her shoulder she begun down to the Big House. She needed to know if any news on Thalia had come in.
"Hello, Annabeth," Chiron smiled from his position at the Pinochle table.
"Hi," Annabeth set her bag down at the table, "is there any news."
Chiron had long since gotten used to Annabeth's blunt manner. Sighing to himself he replied, "the Hunters managed to track down where she last was…."
"But?"
"We didn't find any clue to where she is. There was no sign of a fight. Only one set of tire tracks," Chiron rose out of his wheel chair and pulled something out of his saddle bag. Annabeth held it eagerly, expecting maybe or claw or scale, but instead she was handed a scrap of fabric. It was thick and felt like leather, but somehow the intricate navy blue fabric felt tougher and more durable.
"I know this," Annabeth looked at the scrap of fabric, "I'll be back."
She grabbed her bag and rushed down to the Hephaestus cabin. She thanked the gods when she found Jake, the most well trained ex-camper. He had left camp to get a job as a mechanic two years ago, but still spent time at his second home.
"Jake, I need you to hack into the government mainframe," Annabeth shoved her laptop towards him.
"Huh? What?" He spluttered in surprise.
"Look for an agency with this symbol," Annabeth quickly scribbled out the symbol on a scrap bit of paper.
"I'll try, I'm not the best hacker-"
"Please, Jake," Annabeth pressed.
"Okay," Jake's fingers began flying over the keyboard with practiced skill. His brow furrowed as he hit fire wall after fire wall. It was a long twenty minutes, but Jake finally came up victorious.
"It's called SHIELD," Jake turned the computer around, "Strategic, Homeland Intervention, Enforcement Logistics Division. Files are locked. I can't even tell you what they do."
"Thank you," Annabeth took the laptop and headed back up to the Big House. Setting it down in front of Chiron she began to explain her sudden departure. "This material, someone was wearing a jacket with the exact same colour and texture at Stark Towers. He was a government agent of some sort. I've seen Percy wearing it as well-"
"Percy?" Chiron questioned, "what do you mean, child?"
"I've seen Percy a lot. I haven't spoken to him. But that's not important," Annabeth said, "they both had this logo-" she pointed at the screen, "-on their jackets. The departments called SHIELD. Isn't that on the note that person wrote you?"
"Indeed it is," Chiron gazed at the computer screen.
"Percy works for them. He might've told whoever runs it about Demigods. What if he-"
"Calm down, Annabeth," Chiron said calmly, "I see your point."
"What are we going to do about it?" Annabeth questioned.
"I'll call in a meeting."
-This is a Line Break-
It had been two days since Percy had been stabbed. His wound had begun to heal at the slow paced normal way. It was achy, sore to touch, and bruising. The only thing that made behind stuck at home slightly better was the news that Dr Banner had located a possible suspect for the Demigod attacks yesterday.
Today though, Percy didn't have time to worry about that though. He had woken up to a bright and glorious day, only to feel a heavy weight sink to the bottom of his stomach. He let his gaze fall to the window where his Moonlace bloomed. He rolled out of bed and walked with his little limp (Nico called it a pimp limp) and showered. He did the usual medical routine before limping out to the kitchen.
"Hey," Nico said from where he was skilfully cooking pancakes, "you want some pancakes?"
"Since when do you cook?" Percy questioned as he pulled his riding jacket off the hook.
"Since always," Nico said in return, "you want some?"
"No," Percy said abruptly, before adding, "thank you."
There was a silence between them as Percy fished out his keys. Nico knew what day it was. How could he not? He grimly set the pancakes on the table and tried to do the one thing he wasn't good at- -comforting.
"Do you want some company?" Nico grimaced at his own words.
"I'm good," Percy found his keys, "I'll be back by ten."
Percy headed down to the street and swung gingerly onto his motorcycle. He hissed in pain as his injured hip moved. He had been ordered to stay home as much as possible, but he couldn't do that today. He drove to a small florist a couple blocks away and picked up some Cherry Blossoms. He put them carefully into his jacket, letting the pink buds show through.
It didn't take him long to reach his destination. When he did he took off his helmet and took the flowers from his jacket. Flattening his hear and straightening his top he began into the grave yard. It was rather solemn. And lonely. It was always lonely.
He soldiered on though. He walked between the graves and stopped at the two headstones. He stared at the names for a moment before kneeling down and placing the flowers against the headstone.
"Hey, mom," he said in a whisper, feeling stupid. He did this every year, on the same date, at the same time, "hey, Paul."
He stood at the base of the two graves for a full hour, ignoring the steady throb of his hip. It had been about five years since his parents died. Killed over the money in their wallets. Paul had taken the shot for his mother, but his mother had died anyway.
It was quick, they said, it would've been like falling asleep.
Percy knew that was a lie. He knew what being shot felt like. It felt nothing like going to sleep. It was a rippling, firey agony that never seemed to end. He could still remember clearly the knock on his apartment door, the solemn look on the officers faces.
"Can we come in?" they had asked.
"What's wrong?" He had questioned.
"Its best if you sit down,"
And so he had sat. He had listened. And he had died a little inside.
Each and every year and he came and stood at the graves. It was silly. It wasn't like they could hear him. It helped him though. It was a moment to remember the good, the bad, and the down right hilarious. When the hour passed he walked through the grave yard again and climbed onto his motor cycle, then headed home.
At his apartment he found the door unlocked- not a big surprise. He was surprised though to find Dr Banner sitting at his kitchen table, nursing a glass of water.
"Who let you in?" Percy questioned, sounding harsher then he expected.
"Your cousin," Banner replied, "Agent Barton told me the sessions would be happening here for a while."
"Yeah," Percy grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, "you can imagine my joy."
"Mine as well," Banner pursed his lips.
"You'd think discovering a break through of Nano technology at the base of someone's brain would class as a 'get out of meditation free' card," Percy said sarcastically as he winced.
"You'd think," Banner frowned, "what's your reason?"
"Stabbed in the hip," Percy replied with a hint of sarcasm, "stuck at home until cleared for duty."
"I thought you were, uh, a fast healer," Banner pointed out.
"Not this time," Percy said sarcastically, "Lets get this done with, shall we?"
Bruce pushed the water aside and looked Percy up and down, "you look tired."
Percy rolled his eyes, "lets just say todays not exactly a day I want to spend meditating."
"As long as you don't fall asleep," Bruce said with a tentative smile, "why don't we work on breathing exercises-"
There was a solid knock on the door and Percy froze. Clint and Natasha didn't knock, neither would Nico. That meant it was either Fury or something work related. Standing with a wince he walked down the hall and opened the door, hand resting near the gun in his waist band.
Percy had not been expecting to see a man in a wheelchair. He looked like a teacher with his tweed jacket and light beard. Percy rested his hand on his gun, feeling the coolness of it calm him. Behind him was the tall and graceful blonde- Annabeth Chase.
Neither looked happy.
"Percy," Chiron said, "we need to talk."
I am not at all sorry for the cliff hanger.