As he looked around the hellscape before him, the one thing ringing in his thoughts was how little he cared anymore. Tartarus did that to you. Sucked the lust for life out of you, til you were okay with it. He wasn't even feeling bothered by his thoughts; they were just observations of a partially insane man, much to used to death to be bothered by his own anymore. There was one regret passing through his slowing synapses; he hadn't been able to keep his promise to Annabeth.
'As long as we're together.' The words were empty now, no longer together, separated by planes of existence. He didn't even know if she was alive anymore. How long had he been down there? Was she killed long ago or did she die of old age already? He had no way to know, which was kind of a blessing. His imagination had spun fantasies of how her life had gone perfectly, so at least one of them got their happy ending. All that was left for him was acceptance as he choked on his own blood.
Standing on the Edge of Chaos, finally free from the shackles the Fates had placed on him from birth.
_
Annabeth sat down hard. Something inside her had snapped, some string of connection broke apart. She could feel it in her soul. For a moment she stared at nothing, eyes seeing from someone else's perspective, but still seeing nothing, she could tell they were falling somehow. There was no air pressing their face or anything to fall down onto, maybe they were floating, not falling. The one thing she knew was that they were choking, lungs unable to draw air, maybe they were in space, but then there would be light from something.
Suddenly a flash and sound like a socket short-circuiting and there were clouds above her, pouring rain into the open ocean below them. Waves crashed angrily into each other, not able to pick a direction, and then they stilled right before their face, and Annabeth saw her old love's face plummet beneath the waves, slamming her point of view out of Percy Jackson's head. Now it was like she was a camera on a reel, being pulled back the way it had been going. She found herself back in the inky blackness. But she rewound farther back than the beginning she had been shown. Now there was a hazy redness that was all too familiar, and a ledge she had seen once before; the place where she had been scared the most. Scared of what Percy was willing to do for her, more than what any misery goddess could ever do to her.
She looked at the ground to find little splatters of blood mixed deeply with golden dust, and hanging off the Edge of Chaos was a sword that broke her heart into a million pieces.
She snapped back to her reality, tears in her eyes and an unfamiliar weight in her pocket.
"Anaklusmos." she read breathily, staring at the sword whose story was far from over. She grasped the pen tightly and walked into the hallway, and roughly throwing the door across from her open.
Andromeda slept through it, as she always did. Twelve years old and she couldn't sleep more if she tried. Drool gathered on her pillow and Annabeth's heart broke further before it started rebuilding itself stronger than before for their daughter's sake. Her eyes closed and one more tear escaped.
Percy Jackson had left her world, she didn't know how, she didn't have a clue, but he was protecting their child in spirit, now that Anaklusmos was with them.
_
There was a small fishing boat struggling not to capsize in the awful storm that sprang up out of nowhere. There were three generations of fishermen on the boat and none of them had personally experienced anything like this after sixty years of fishing the same route at least once every year. Then the waters calmed at once. No movement but the rocking of their boat. The oldest of the group weakly found his footing. His stark white hair shining with the light from the sun beaming down on him. Nature was appeased for a moment and then something crashed at terminal velocity right next to their boat, spraying water thirty feet into the air. The old man leaned over the railing as the engines were cut by his son.
"Grandpa? What was it?"
He couldn't believe his eyes, but the images they were sending his brain was of a naked man covered in scars, as though somebody had painted over his body with a knife. It was disturbing enough for the old man to nearly lose his lunch at the sight of him.
"Don?" His stepson asked quietly.
"It's- it's a body." The boat was somehow even quieter than it had been. "Get the kids down under."
The man in the water was jostled, into the boat and Don saw the scariest sight he had ever seen. The body's eyes opened, showing what looked like little more than animal instinct inside, before they closed again, and the man's features relaxed into something like relief.
"Jesse get a blanket and some clothes. Tom let's fish 'im out."
_
Percy was pretty sure he was dreaming, or hallucinating. Or dead. One of them had to pertain to him. Maybe death was just one big hallucination in the end, if you were good you experienced the best timeline your life could have gone through, cus he was staring at Annabeth holding onto a young girl who looked like the best mix of the both of them. The one thing that ruined the picture was the tears on Annabeth's face. She looked older, tired, stressed and sad. He really hated that he couldn't seem to move to her and hold her. The girl who couldn't be anyone but his daughter looked more confused than Percy was feeling.
"What's wrong, mom?" Her innocent eyes held more concern than Percy ever wanted them to.
"Percy-" What little part of his attention that wasn't on the woman he loved, locked onto her. "Percy's gone." Annabeth didn't even look like she knew she was answering her daughter.
"Dad?" Percy's heart broke a little more at that simple word. "He's been... gone since before I was born."
"He-he was, but now- there was always a chance he could come back, now..." She couldn't keep speaking.
Without warning the vision collapsed and Percy was swept into utter blackness. Drowned out voices still swam into his ears, whispering sweet words of nothingness. It was strange. He had swam in the river of misery and it felt similar but, there was no malice to this, it just was. His perception changed again, and this time he saw the Fates themselves, knitting something terribly intricate and fragile. It was almost as if they were knitting something that didn't exist and never should have, but it did. His life up to this point ran through his mind like a slideshow. The words that had been whispered to him made sense now; they told him where he was, this was a gift from the Fates. One chance at his ultimate reward. One chance to return to Annabeth, to meet his daughter. He just had to be the Hand of Fate for a little longer and he would receive their gift. No matter what he was being asked to do, Percy knew he would do it. One last quest, no prophecy to guide him and no enemy revealed, he would have to wait for the Fates to open his eyes.
_
"Tony Stark has been fou-" The tv was clicked off as Percy ate his cereal happily, staring out the cabin window at the open ocean.
"I was watching that." An older man grumbled at the interruption of his news.
"You watch too much news, Donny. Besides it's almost time to go out, we gotta get your prescription refilled and groceries restocked, go to the bank, and pick up the kids from school early, there's no time for news about some lost billionaire."
"I don't see why I need to go along; Jesse trusts you with the kids, shit, they like you more than me."
"You've been cooped up in this old shack for weeks now; it's time to get you out in the world for a bit. A year ago you were deep sea fishing, these days just going out to town gets you in a fit."
"Fishing's different, it's just you and the sea, no annoying people... other than your annoying ass. Shoulda just left you out there."
"If you had, I'm pretty sure you would have turned into a hermit crab by now. Come on, I know Jenny wants to see you, she asks about you every time I see her."
Waking up in a hospital had been strange, but having strangers waiting for him to wake up was even weirder, but he had quickly been welcomed into the random family. Even though his circumstances were beyond shady, he had been able to befriend them enough that they stopped asking questions. Don never asked much about him, even though they lived in the same cabin, just took what he learned about him through their usual conversations. Percy had become a sort of caretaker to the old widower, as payment of his debt to the family. The Fates placed him next to them for a reason. Over the months, he and the old man had become some kind of family to each other.
Don grumbled to himself a little more, before getting up.
"Just for the record, I still don't want to go."
"Yeah yeah, I know. You driving or me?"
"If i'm going, then I'm going to at least be careful, which means I'm driving."
"Hey! I'm a good driver."
"A good driver if you're running away from the devil himself. Toss me the keys and lock up."
They were soon on the road into town. Don was driving as Percy stared out of his window, not seeing what was in front of his eyes. Don had seen it happen so many times, that he didn't even register it happening anymore.
With the little he knew of Percy's past life and the scars he had seen on his body, he knew it was better not to ask. He liked to tell the kids tales of scary monsters whenever they would ask about one of the scars that they happened to see. But Don thought it was probably from a much more human kind of monster. Percy shook his head clear of his thoughts as they pulled into their first stop.
_
They were on their last stop before they had to pick up Don's grandchildren. Percy was in the restroom when the first gunshot went off and the first screams followed directly after, nearly blocking out the shout for silence.
"Everyone down on the ground!" The deep voice bellowed out and Percy's adrenaline levels spiked up at the sound of more gunshots. "I said get down old man!"
Percy burst out of the restroom to see Don and the rest of the bank's emoloyees and visitors held at gunpoint by four men, all wearing ski masks. Don was too stubborn for his own good. The leader opened fire, placing three bullets in the old man's chest and Percy's world slowed as his soul screamed for blood, but his body wouldn't move.
"Don't move kid, learn from the old shit on the ground."
Percy's head snapped from the body of his friend to the gunman that spoke to him.
"You killed him." His heart pumped more and more blood through his body.
"Yeah and if you don't get on the fucking ground, you're gonna join 'im! On your stomach, boy!"
Percy didn't move.
"Are all these people idiots? Put him out." Three more rounds popped out of one of their guns, forcing Percy to stagger back, but he didn't fall, and the bullets clanged down on the ground.
"What the fuc-" Percy moved, rushing towards the murderers with nothing less than a murderous glare on his face. He reached the man that shot him, before they could unleash anymore bullets. He ripped the assault rifle out of the man's hands and introduced it to its owner's face and blood sprayed out of the man's broken nose. Percy brought the rifle to his shoulder and sprayed bullets out at another of the shooters, dropping him. Before he could take another step, he felt a bullet ping off his head. His vision swam and the ringing in his ears was bound to stay for a while. The fear in the man's eyes that shot him was almost intoxicating for the rage Percy was feeling. The man was paralyzed as Percy grabbed him by his collar and threw him straight out the glass doors. The final man standing dropped his gun and raised his arms in surrender. Percy decided to deal with him later, as he returned his focus to the one that shot his friend.
He was just regaining his footing when he froze,
The man was back in front of him and his eyes were boring into him. The first punch landed and broke his jaw, sending him to the floor The second cracked a rib. They didn't stop until the man was broken in so many places he wouldn't be moving for months. The sirens broke Percy out of his rage. Eyes closing, before moving back to Don's unmoving body. The shooter dropped to the floor. Percy moved to his friend's body and closed the man's unseeing eyes. A tear fell onto Don's body. He made quick work of knocking the final man unconscious. Percy started moving for the door to leave, when he was stopped by a young boy, whose mother was attempting to corral him.
"Who are you?" The boy's eyes were wide.
"..." Percy stared at him for a moment, the boy's mother's eyes were full of fear, "Nobody." He walked out the door and fled into an alley just as the police showed up.
_
"Jesse?" Percy's voice nearly cracked as he spoke to Don's stepson.
"Hey Perce, what's up?"
"I- We can't get the kids today."
"Okay? I said I could leave work early, no big deal."
"No... Jesse? I'm sorry. I- He. Donny's- dead. Fuck, this can't- I'm sorry."
"What? What do you mean?!"
"We were at the bank."
"Shit, you were there? And... Donny's dead? Are you-"
"I'm okay, but yeah Donny, stubborn old man wouldn't bend down for anyone, no matter if his knees were working or not."
"Fuck, man. This- Do you need help? Are you with the police?"
"No. Jesse, I can't stay around here anymore."
"What? Percy I understand you've had trouble with family before, but the rest of us are still here."
"It's not that. I- Don't let Jenny and Michael watch the news, okay? I'm sorry."
The line cut out and Jesse stayed sitting still for a minute before turning the tv in his office on and seeing Percy Jackson's face, with blood splattered across it.
"Four gunmen, attempted to rob the Bank of New Jersey on the corner of-"
Why were they showing Percy's face on the news?
"Attempted, being the key word. They were stopped by one man. The man whose face is on your screen. Eye witness reports say they saw the man take bullets to the chest and continue on, barely shaken, and according to one, he took a bullet to the head and still survived. The information on how any of this would be possible is simply not there, however, the bodies of the gunmen prove the danger of this man before you, no matter how true the previous statements are. One man is dead, the man shot him ten times. One more is in critical condition, with many broken bones and internal bleeding. The other two are unconscious but are expected to be fine within hours. From the eye witness reports, we have been able to gather that, this man took out revenge on the man in critical condition after he had shot this man..." A picture of Don flashed on the screen. "We can only be thankful that nearly all survived this tragedy, and send our thoughts and prayers to this man's family in this terrible time. The only information, we have on this unknown vigilante is, when asked who he was he responded only with the word 'Nobody'. If you have any information please contact the authorities immediately."
"What the fuck."
_
Percy was sitting on a dock, nursing a bottle of beer as tears occasionally rolled down his face. Memories of his home world running through his mind, they hadn't been this prevalent for months now, but the death of a new friend brought back all the guilt and pain from the previous ones.
He set down the bottle, and slipped into the water silently.
_
"So what are we dealing with here?" Natasha Romanoff stared blankly at the footage before her.
"Some kind of enhanced human. Unknown origin, loyalties. Unknown abilities, however bullets seem to have no power to stop him."
"I can see that." She answered dryly. "Do we know anything else?"
"Disturbingly no. He's like a ghost. We have no name and no hits on facial recognition. Something is seriously wrong here. However, we do have something. The old man who was shot. We have him placed with this 'Nobody' over the past year. Don Williams. From what we can tell, they lived in this cabin together, and" He continued as he handed her a file, "A check in at a hospital for a John Doe, brought in by Don Williams' stepson. Apparently they found him floating in the ocean."
"Am I solo on this?" She asked the director.
"Yes, Barton is busy and Coulson is... off-base. No backup, think you can't handle it?" Fury asked raising an eyebrow in challenge.
"Of course, I can handle it."
"You leave in the morning."
"I can leave tonight."
"I take it you will be then."
"Yes, sir."
"Dismissed, Agent Romanoff."
Fury stared at the picture on the screen in front if him. Something about the man's eyes, screamed trouble in his mind.
_
The next morning found Percy washed up on the shore right next to the too familiar shack. He stood up and walked in, tears already threatening to fall, but Percy had a cry once policy. Cry once and then live on. Too many had died for him to live his life in constant grief. He had come across that decision at the age of sixteen. A little help from Annabeth got him through those times and helped him keep his happiness.
He got a cup of coffee and in honor of his dead friend put the news on, even though his brain didn't even register the words or images coming from the television. When his coffee was gone, he got up and stripped down to take a shower. It wouldn't do to go into hiding, stinking like he did. The water helped clear his mind and the clean fealing did wonders to his mindset. Killing people was never something he wanted to do, but pushed far enough, he wouldn't hold back.
He was walking out of the shower, into his old room to gather his clothes and belongings before leaving when he heard a dangerous click. His head whipped over to find a dangerous looking redheaded woman leveling a pistol at his face. He picked up that the safety wasn't on, and her finger was directly on the trigger. He could tell she would pull the trigger given any reason, and maybe just because.
"Who are you?" He asked, calmly as he raised his hands. The woman raised her eyebrow at his aoparent comfortability with being naked, even though she could tell he had nothing to be ashamed of, besides the scars perhaps, but he didn't seem to care that she was seeing them.
"Nobody." His eyes narrowed.
"Who are you working for then?"
"Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements and Logistics Division." Percy blinked.
"Um, is that supposed to mean something to me?"
"Not really, we're law enforcement. We deal with the stranger side of things."
"Where do I come in?"
"You took four bullets, one of them to the head and, well you don't look worse for wear."
"Got any proof of that?" He asked, muscles starting to tense up.
"Video footage, solely in our possession... at the moment."
"Cameras. Never did like having my picture taken. Are you going to shoot me if I put some clothes on?"
"Would it do anything?"
"Believe it or not, getting shot hurts. A lot. But no, you'd need a lot more than a pistol to take me out." He put his hands down and turned to walk into his room. Romanoff saw another mass of scars littering his back from neck to ankles.
"I have my fair share of scars, but you seem to have made an effort to get them." His shoulders tensed. So he wasn't fully accepting of them.
"Life's been rough."
"Care to elaborate?" He finally put a shirt on and walked back out.
"Care to put the gun down?" He had the nerve to smirk at her, but she hid her annoyance and lowered her weapon.
"Great now we can talk like civilized people."
"Most civilized people don't know how to kill people as efficiently as we do."
"Well then, we'll just have to play pretend. Cup of coffee?"
She didn't reply, neither did she sit across from the man at the kitchen table as he was getting an apparent second cup of coffee.
"So what's this Strategic... thing? Law enforcement?"
"A kind, we have more... freedom with how we operate than most organizations."
"Private?"
"I've anwered enough, it's time for you to start talking, or I'm going to have to take you in." He looked at her curiously.
"Gotta love a confident woman." He grinned like he was remembering something. "What do you want to know?"
"Who are you? How did you show up out of nowhere one year ago, how are you... invincible, are there others like you, where are you from, what are you."
"One at a time please, my brain is too small to handle all that." Something told her that was far from the truth, he was taking in everything she did and holding onto the information. She could see it in his eyes. "You can call me Percy, I'm from New York, born and raised. And the rest, well that's pretty heavily classified. Need to know basis and all that."
"I think we need to know."
"Really? Law enforcement never needed to know before, it was so much easier." She knew he was teasing that there was information locked in his head, but she didn't let it get to her.
"Not a great relationship with the law?"
"Hmm, we never seem to see things from the same perspective when I'm involved, but otherwise I respect the job. Having to deal with the worst of humanity's shit has to be rough, but really, a nation-wide manhunt for a twelve year old, trying to find his mom is rather... excessive. And I did have to steal that one cop car once, wasn't a fun time. Amnesia sucks by the way." His easy-going smile was beginning to grate on her nerves, he was completely comfortable giving himself away with these things. Almost like he knew, what would normally be huge hints to his identity, really didn't matter.
"You still haven't explained, just how you were able to shake off four bullets fired from an assault rifle."
"What can I say? I have really thick skin."
"You have scars on your body, but a gun can't harm you? Either it's not a permanent thing, or you gained it recently. Knowing how you are able to make yourself invincible, could be very useful for our people. Might even get us to overlook the death of two men, and assault of two others."
"The death of two murderers, and assault of a couple others. Besides, my... method, isn't available anymore. That knowledge is useless to you."
"That is unfortunate then. Are there others like you?" She tried the question now that he seemed to be open to answering her questions.
"No... At least, none that I know of." He answered, sounding too melancholy to be lying.
"And what are you?"
"A person. Who are you?"
"I told you before, nobody." She repeated her earlier answer.
"I thought we had gotten passed the nobody phase. You don't even have some kind of codename or something?"
"To many I am known as Black Widow." She wanted to see his reaction, she kind of doubted it would garner one after his reaction to SHIELD. But it did elicit a reaction, just not what she expected. He snorted out a laugh.
"And here I was thinking you two were similar."
"Who?"
"Annabeth." He was somewhere else for a moment.
"Somebody special?"
"The woman I love. I'm trying to find my way back to her."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Huh? Oh, um, sorry, my mind drifted off. ADHD's a bitch." His smile turned guarded. "Have I answered enough yet, Black Widow?"
"What do you think?"
"I think I answered too many, and now I have this Stratego agency after me fully."
"Right in one."
"Well I never did finish High School, maybe that's my trouble. Tell your agency, I'll be good so long as they don't bother me, but for now, please get out of my dead friend's cabin." His eyes were harder than she had seen yet, and something told her to get out, but she fought it back.
"Or?"
"You've seen the footage of what happens, I don't go down easy."
"One man threatening a powerful covert agency. I've seen arrogance before, but that's a whole new level."
"It isn't hard for me to disappear. If shadows can hide an agency, well, they can hide me." He stood up and she was suddenly aware that she was alone, no backup in front of a man who shook off bullets like insects. "Leave. I don't want to hurt anyone else." It was strange, how he hid so much yet told so much. He wasn't used to lying a whole lot. "Please."
"I can't do that."
"It's pretty easy actually. You see humans have these things called feet and they use them for walking, occasionally through doors." His sarcasm was strained. Her hand reached for her gun, but she was forced to move back as Percy lashed out, faster than most regular humans could follow with their eyes. She disengaged and drew her gun.
"I really like this shirt." He said simply.
"You should have thought of that when you were dressing at gunpoint."
"Fine then, I'll leave the cabin. You stay. I wanted to gather my few remaining items. Take good care of them." He started moving to the door, when a bullet shot through the wall to his right.
"Don's grandfather built this place. I'd rather you shoot me right now." He kept moving, and this time she didn't shoot. Her heart was racing, she ran out the door to find him, but he had disappeared already.
_
A.N. Okay, i guess i like starting new stories, but to anyone who's reading this that reads my other stories don't worry about them not getting updates, they're coming.
So I hope anyone reading enjoyed, please take a moment to review or at least follow or fav if you want to see more.
This was fun, and I think I'll be a lot more open to continuing this story than my other short-lived attempt at a PJO/avengers crossover.
Penny for your thots?
PEACE.