Hi everyone! Thanks for sticking around during our annual summer hiatus!

Buckle your seat belts: this is a long chapter.

Highlights include: - fluff

- answers about what Thor and Loki are

- Frank Zhang

- Nico

- The light of my life Sally Jackson

I woke up two days later in a room strangely reminiscent of the SHIELD infirmary back in New York. The fluorescent lighting fixture did my impending migraine no favours, and the sterile smell of a hospital had me wanting to gag.

Once I'd got over the horrible brightness of the room, it came to my attention that I wasn't alone. A familiar blonde figure was sitting slumped in a plastic chair, fast asleep.

I didn't want to wake her, but I did my usual stupid thing and tried to shift slightly, and something in my torso pulled so painfully that I let out a quiet gasp, and that was enough to prove that she wasn't as deeply asleep as it looked.

Annabeth bolted upright, curls disheveled. "Percy?" she asked anxiously.

I tilted my head towards her slowly so not to do anything too dumb, and gave her what was probably a very doped-up smile. "Hey," I rasped, throat uncomfortably dry.

She huffed. "Hey? You go all damsel in distress-style faint on me and all you can say is hey?"

Oh, sorry, then, for almost dying. "Sorry."

Well, that was clearly the wrong thing to say, because it looked like she was about to cry. "Just don't you go dying on me again, okay?"

I huffed a dry laugh. "You know I can't promise that." I coughed. "Anyway, where am I?"

Annabeth grinned as she realised that I had actually woken up properly. "Camp Jupiter; they have a weirdly nice infirmary. But they actually have doctors and medical professionals, so that could explain it."

"Do they have morphine? Because if they do, then they're withholding it and that's mean."

"Oh, so you're a drug addict now?" Annabeth raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"That's not what I said. What I mean is that it would make lying here a lot easier."

Jason walked in at that moment. "Did you just say morphine? Because I feel like that could genuinely kill you at this point."

I made a 'pfft' noise. "It wouldn't kill me; it would just maybe ramp up my heart rate a little."

He scoffed. "There is not enough blood in you to take any morphine at the moment. I don't think you even have any veins left to make an injection into."

I furrowed my brow. "You're telling me that they stole my blood in there? That's just plain rude of them. I like having blood, thanks."

Jason pulled one of the plastic chairs over to my bedside. "Anyway, I'm not here to warn you off Class A drugs. Coulson wanted me to thank you for the tip off; they managed to have enough agents in there to neutralise the drones to prevent any civilian deaths, although I'm told that Iron Man himself was almost one of those casualties. I hear Nat was doing his character profile, and that he's a complete idiot."

"They sent Nat to profile a known womaniser? It's a miracle she didn't kill him herself."

Jason chuckled. "Yes, I suppose so. But you saved the lives of over a thousand people in that expo, Percy. That's pretty impressive for a dead guy. Coulson said that you could come back if you wanted, that he would take the case to Fury himself if necessary." Jason pushed himself to his feet. "Just think about it, okay."

I smiled absentmindedly at him as he headed out, leaving me and Annabeth together again.

"Will you?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"What? Oh, no, I don't think so." My brain caught up after a brief lag. "Coulson could lose his job over it. Hell, he could lose his life. Also, I don't think he knows about the whole demigod thing, and I don't want to put him in an even stickier situation because of it."

"He cares a lot about you, you know," she said. "He stuck on the phone after you passed out again. He didn't leave that line until Jason and Reyna showed up, and every minute or so he made me check that you were still breathing. It was tearing him apart that he couldn't send a team to help you out."

Huh. "Yeah, well, he was always good to me, was Coulson. He recruited me out of college; he's been with me the entire time. I mean, he treats me more like a son than my own dad." I paused. "Forget I said that."

She shook her head. "Don't worry about it. All of us have an absent parent here, Percy. I think that with everything you've given the gods, it's reasonable to be upset that they don't give much back. But your dad does care about you, I can tell you that."

"How could you know? I've only talked to him a couple of times, and one of those times he nearly blasted me to Hades."

She smiled sadly. "Your father carried you down from Olympus, Percy, and he practically begged Apollo to save you. He does care; he just doesn't know how to show you."

I muffled my noise of disbelief, knowing full well that I was on the gods' territory here. "Anyway, how long until we can head back to Camp? Do we know, or are we just stuck here waiting for the all-clear?"

Annabeth shrugged. "You're cleared to leave the infirmary tomorrow, but I need to Iris Message Chiron in order to know exactly when we can start heading back. And you need to sleep and get some ambrosia in you."

"Cool." So basically she didn't have a clue. "Is that your way of saying that you're going to leave me here to fall asleep?"

Annabeth flashed a grin at me. "That's the one. Now that you're not on the brink of death, I can go and sleep in my comfy bed rather than this shitty plastic chair, and you can get some rest on that uncomfortable-looking slab of a bed." She hauled herself up off of the chair, with the distinct sound of skin peeling off of plastic for the first time in hours. She turned back to look at me one more time, hand hovering over the lightswitch. "Don't die in your sleep, okay?"

And with that the room plunged into darkness.

o0O0o

Two days later, and I was finally freed (the infirmary staff probably celebrated; by the end of that time I'd eaten enough ambrosia to feel mostly human again and was starting to become the Worst Patient Ever, with the possible exception of Clint Barton After Caffeine).

I hobbled out of the infirmary, which looked just as swanky on the outside as on the inside (what hospital needed to look like a fucking Roman temple?), and dropped by Grumio's Cafe, having been deprived of my peaceful cup of coffee the last time that I was there.

I'd like to say that I didn't sit there looking like a tired college student making grabby hands at a mug of steaming hot coffee, but that would be a lie. Annabeth, sitting across from me, looked rather amused as she sat there, drinking coffee like a civilised human. Sorry, but some of us were pretty tired from doing the not-dying thing.

"So, what's the verdict from Chiron?" I let out a little sigh of pleasure; there was nothing better than coffee after a near death experience. Nothing.

"We're staying here for a week to continue to establish a treaty, do more visits, actually act like diplomats and ambassadors, not just chasing after drones." Annabeth raised her eyebrows at me somewhat jokingly.

"We're actually going to do our original duties then? Shocking. Also boring."

Annabeth chuckled at me. "We also get another attempt at war games though, this time without the interruption from the killer drones."

I grinned. "You mean we can show these Romans exactly what the Greeks are made of."

"Exactly. Assuming you're mostly in one piece by then." The rim of her coffee cup didn't hide Annabeth's wry smile. She pulled a crumpled sheet of paper out of her pocket. "These are the official diplomatic visits we have to make in order to show them how friendly the Greeks are."

I took the list from her. "An elementary school; that's cute. The senate? That better be a New Roman thing, and not the United States Senate." I wrinkled my nose at the thought of interacting with politicians.

"No, Percy, we're going to fly to Washington to meet the Senate," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Of course, it's the New Roman Senate."

"The temples of Neptune and Minerva to 'show the Romans' gratitude'. Why can't they show their gratitude themselves?" I dropped the list to take another sip of coffee.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "They don't have any kids of Minerva or Neptune here; we're their next best bet. They just want us to make some official offerings to them. Also, I think they're secretly way too scared to even put a foot over the threshold of your father's temple."

That didn't sound like the full Athena cabin that I knew back at Camp. "Like I understand not having any Neptune kids, because you know the pact and everything, but no Minerva kids? At all?"

"Apparently Minerva takes her oath as a virgin goddess way more seriously here, whereas Athena just veers away from the whole sex thing."

Athena doesn't what?

I blinked at Annabeth. "How were you born then?"

Annabeth froze midway through slurping down the dregs of her coffee. "Did you not know? Oh my gods." She pushed her empty coffee cup onto the table. "I was born from my mother's head, just as she was born from Zeus'."

That really didn't clear anything up, but I just wasn't going to question it. Mythology's weird, and sometimes you just have to deal with it, because apparently all of these weird-ass stories are true. Hell, once you've broken out of somewhere thanks to the plumbing coming to your aid, you stop asking.

"We also have to meet with Octavian, the Augur, at the temple of Iuppiter Optimus Maximus." Annabeth had picked up the list where I left off.

I pulled a face. "Is that the guy that took way too much pleasure in branding my arm? Because I already don't like him."

"Percy, have you ever done the diplomat thing before? You have to deal with the people you don't like and pretend that they're your best friend." Annabeth sighed, as she picked up her rucksack and started moving out of the cafe, indicating that I should do the same.

I pushed my chair back under the table with a screech that reflected the noises my brain was making at the idea of diplomatic work. "Trust me, I've been a so-called diplomat before, but that doesn't mean I had to like it. I've also infiltrated the mafia, and that wasn't fun either."

Annabeth made a noncommittal noise over her shoulder and left the shop.

I sighed and followed, trying my hardest not to limp on my stiff leg, which had helpfully gone to sleep in the time I had been sitting down.

Damn that girl and how fast she walked, I thought to myself as I furiously tried to catch up whilst maintaining some dignity (it didn't work).

"What's the rush?" I asked. "Some of us can't feel one of our limbs."

She had the grace to look a little sheepish as she turned around to see me trailing behind.

Annabeth sighed. "I guess that I forgot to mention that we're meant to be meeting with New Rome's only other Ambassador right now."

I may have squawked slightly in indignation. "Another ambassador? To whom? Don't fucking tell me that there are Norse gods! Don't tell me that!"

Annabeth really had the nerve to laugh at me. "No, there aren't any Norse gods." She frowned slightly. "Apart from that Thor guy you told me about. But no, definitely no Norse demigods."

I paused. "Technically, I think he's a member of an alien race, rather than a god. Kept jabbering on about his home planet of 'Asgard'."

"Oh, that's even worse than there being Norse demigods." She wrinkled her nose. "Aliens?"

"Can't tell you any more. Afraid that information is classified."

She snorted. "So you don't know either."

"Damn right. Anyway, where are we going?"

"Hazel's meeting us as we get to the temples, and then she'll guide us to the right place. That's all Reyna said." I saw the flicker of uncertainty in Annabeth's eyes; she hated not knowing things.

"Okay then, so not too far?"

She glanced at me with a slight look of concern. "What, you getting tired?"

"Not at all; why would you think that?"

We rounded the corner into a largeish square (piazza, or something, apparently, if you wanted to give it its 'proper' Roman name), flanked on three sides by enormous and opulent temples. And standing right in the middle was a familiar fiery face.

"Hey guys!" Hazel called cheerfully. "Thanks for coming! My brother's really looking forward to meeting the other legati to New Rome."

Annabeth and I both froze. "Your brother?"

Hazel nodded, clearly oblivious to our shock. "Yeah, he doesn't go to Camp because he works mostly with our father. Now come on! The temple of Pluto is just beyond that of Jupiter, so it's a bit of a trek."

She started hiking up the hill, whilst Annabeth and I hung back slightly.

Annabeth nudged me. "Do you think he really spends all that time with his father, or do you think he just goes to a different camp?"

"What do you mean?" I was not following whatever train of thought Annabeth was going on.

"I mean that her brother is probably-"

"Nico!" Hazel's exclamation could be heard from where we were standing 5 metres down the hill. "We were going to meet you at the temple."

Oh.

Oh, that kid was going to have a few questions to answer to.

Nico, who was hovering nervously a little further up than Hazel, mumbled something awkwardly (probably 'I was trying to run away before they made the connection'), looking for all the world like a rabbit caught in the headlights. I kicked Annabeth hard in the shin to get her to turn off the death stare that she was undoubtedly giving him. She switched it on me instead.

"What was that for?" she hissed.

Fortunately, living with Natasha Romanoff had made me immune to most angry outbursts and death stares, so I didn't rise to it. "You don't have to stare at him like you're plotting his slow death, you know," I whispered back. "Be diplomatic, remember?"

I gave Nico a cheery smile and a wave, and began to head up the hill to greet him. Annabeth followed, muttering mutinously until we were within earshot.

As soon as I got close enough I ruffled his hair before he could run away. "Hey squirt!" It was kind of obnoxious of me, but that was the entire point. "What are you doing in New Rome?"

Nico muttered something incomprehensible.

I planted a firm hand on his shoulder, determined not to let him wriggle his way out of this. "Sorry, what was that? Surprised to see me? Yeah, well, I'm surprised to see you too."

It was Hazel's turn to freeze. "You guys know each other?"

My grin grew even wider; I was going to embarrass Nico as much as I physically could in these few minutes (and I was good at being embarrassing). "Of course! Nico was in fact the very person that brought me to Camp Half-Blood, isn't that right?" I squeezed his shoulder a bit harder, hoping that he understood how I was kinda mad at him.

I should have foreseen that a kid that pale would blush extremely red, but I'll admit to being surprised to see quite so much colour on his cheeks. "That's right," he mumbled, staring quite resolutely down at his feet.

Hazel's eyebrows furrowed, the gears in her head audibly whirring as she connected the dots. "You're Greek? Then how did you know about Camp Jupiter?"

Actually, that was a great question. Thank you, Hazel!

"Oh, erm, you meet a lot of demigods both Greek and Roman in the Underworld."

Somehow that didn't feel like an explanation. But I guessed that his social skills were kind of lacking, and maybe interacting with dead people was easier than with the living.

I wondered if Chiron knew about this. Would explain why he was always so vague when I asked him what Nico was up to (usually when asking for a favour from him, but that's beside the point).

Annabeth clearly wasn't having any of Nico's bullshit though. "Really? I thought that souls in the Underworld didn't remember their past lives." She raised an eyebrow. "Try again."

Nico stood there for maybe a minute before finally giving; his shoulders slumped. "Fine, my dad told me. He wanted his kid to be a diplomat for once, and he didn't tell any of the other gods because they don't like him."

"So he was being petty?" I asked, still fairly amused by the whole turn of events. I mean I too would be petty if my siblings only let me visit them once a year, and didn't actually tell me things.

Nico's brow furrowed for a second, then he shrugged. "I guess you could see it that way."

Hazel sort of shuffled awkwardly in the ensuing silence. Clearly she had no idea how to deal with the current situation any more than I did. All I could do was try to prevent Annabeth from going full-out psycho on poor Nico. I mean, I was kind of mad at him too, but she would probably break him in half like a twig if I let her.

"Also, he wanted me to escort Hazel to Camp Jupiter." Nico gave way even further under Annabeth's glare. "He said that she'd be safer here than there, but that she'd need a friend."

Whoever thought that prickly Nico di Angelo was a good idea for a friend was, in my eyes, slightly mistaken, but I supposed that being the god of the underworld gave you a certain free pass when it came to social awareness.

"Now that we've got through that awkward set of introductions, why were we meant to be meeting with Nico anyway?"

Hazel fumbled for the words. "We were meant to visit the temple of Pluto to honour the dead from the First Demigod Civil War, according to Reyna. Not that anyone was aware that there was a Demigod Civil War, or multiple for that matter. But the point is that we're meant to be honouring the dead to show respect between the Camps. Reyna and Jason are meeting us up there at 11 o'clock, so we'd best be moving. They just wanted you guys to meet before entering the temple to give you some time to be sure that you were on good terms, given that you're supposed to present a united front at the temple. All of the Big Three's children in one place; ambassadors from all of our 'foreign' allies. You know, it's just symbolic." No human sacrifices, then. I hoped.

Well, alright then. Nothing like climbing a hill to make you wish that you'd had more than a cup of coffee and a pastry for breakfast. (Oh, and now I was craving cheeseburgers. Excellent.) I hoped fervently that my stomach wouldn't start rumbling in the temple. Temples are notoriously bad for amplifying stomach rumbles, and that would be both embarrassing and disrespectful (and if there was one god I didn't want to get on the bad side of, it was Hades).

I was pulled out of my slightly terrified musings as we came to the top of the hill, to see both Reyna and Jason waiting outside the temple of Pluto, looking all fancy in their togas and making me feel underdressed, as usual. Octavian, the slimy bastard, was also there. Hazel guided us towards a spot just opposite the three of them, before she scampered off to stand behind the Romans.

Reyna and Jason both shot us an apologetic look as Octavian opened his smarmy mouth to speak. "Ambassadors, we welcome you here to remember and celebrate the lives of those whom we lost in the First Demigod Civil War, and all other wars that followed it." He turned away from both us and the praetors to face...nobody? An invisible audience? A TV camera crew that didn't exist? Take your pick; it's anybody's guess what the fuck this guy was doing.

He led us into the temple, carefully arranging us into a formation with Reyna and Jason at the front, Nico in the middle, and us (the despicable Graeci that we were) at the back. This was rather amusing to me, because both Jason and Reyna were quite a bit taller than Nico, who was sort of sandwiched into invisibility between us. It was also kind of hilarious that Octavian clearly knew that Nico wasn't really a Roman, but he hadn't lumped him in with the other Greek ambassadors.

Octavian then started chanting in Latin, and I became immediately concerned, since I wasn't aware that we were going to witness any sort of cult meeting or exorcism. Like vague bits of my 8th Grade Latin came back to me (dei - gods, mortus - death, interfecit - kill; you know the standard morbid stuff), and honestly I was hoping that Octavian was talking about the already dead, not us being sacrifices or something.

Nothing dramatic happened, so I assumed that he hadn't invoked any sort of ancient curse (fortunate, really). We let Octavian make a stuffed-toy sacrifice (seriously, what did that guy have against teddy bears?) without too much fuss, and that was about it; we hung about inside for a minute or so while he did some extra chanting and arm-waving (like a sort of emaciated chicken in a toga), and then we left.

The sun felt very bright as I stepped out of the dimly-lit temple and back onto the pale cobblestones that lined New Rome's streets (I was going to twist my ankle on those damn things; I knew it), but I had to say that I didn't want to spend any longer inside the oppressive, dark grandeur of the temple to the most terrifying of all the gods. Outside was much better.

Octavian scurried off back towards the temple of Jupiter Maximus Optimus I-Am-The-Bestus (what was the name of that godsdamned temple?), and I wasn't sorry to see him go. In fact, I almost wished that Clint was here, because he'd undoubtedly produce some small projectile and a makeshift catapult with which to hit his retreating back (mean? maybe so).

Reyna flashed an apologetic grin at me and Annabeth. "Sorry about that; protocol is a nuisance, but a must."

And that was Camp Jupiter summed up in a nutshell. The rest of our visit was spent visiting various other Roman buildings, and then 'making peace before the gods' as Octavian ripped open several more defenseless cuddly toys (better them than us, I suppose). In spite of how much the visit did seem to drag, at least there was one salvation: war games.

It was the evening of our third day being diplomatic, so I was, as Annabeth had said, 'mostly in one piece' barring a couple of stick-on dressings, which meant that I had her blessing (not that I would have voluntarily missed the games anyway, but it's better to be on her good side for this sort of thing) to join in.

And this was going to be so much fun.

We were fighting with the Fifth Cohort, who were apparently disgraced (Much like us Greeks), but were slowly fighting their way back to being respected. There was clearly a warning in that statement; do not let our reputation slip because of you.

They didn't need to worry about us.

I did, however, have a (not at all) strange sense of deja-vu as we assembled on the fields above the city in preparation for the start of the games. This time, though, there were no killer robots descending from on high to wreak havoc, which, given how all of that had panned out, was definitely a relief for everybody involved. On the other hand, we did need to raid a fort filled with fighters from the First and Second Cohorts, aka the ones who were so good at fighting that they were handpicked to join those squadrons.

No pressure.

I let some child in a plumed helmet try to tell us their tactics, but I could hardly hear them through the plating, so I just decided on the spot that it wasn't going to be my fault if I decided to throw in a few tricks of my own. For the meantime, I just stood with the squadron, nodding when everyone else nodded and generally thinking 'this will be fun'.

"Twelfth Legion, are you ready for the war games to commence?" I craned my neck to find the source of the voice; above me were Reyna and Jason, both astride flying horses, although Reyna's was a pegasus, whilst Jason's was made out of fucking lightning. I have to admit I would not like to go up against that in a fight.

"Three, two, one, begin!"

And promptly, all hell broke loose. It was great. I got a bit lost in the thrill of bonking Romans over the head with a sword hilt for a couple of minutes, but then remembered what little of the game plan that I had heard, which was along the lines of 'capture the fort-thing', which I wasn't doing by playing Whack-A-Mole out here in the field.

I caught sight of the entrance to the fort, a small doorway that was guarded by five soldiers. Okay, not the least guarded door that I'd seen in my time, but I had faced worse odds. I tapped Annabeth's arm, and tried to signal that I could get us through the melée unharmed, clearly she managed to interpret whatever my gestures were, because she followed me as I turned and took the shortest path I could to the walls of the fort.

Maybe said shortest path was straight through a bristling, fully-shielded unit of First Cohort soldiers, but I was Greek and on top of that a spy, so I was really quite happy to play it dirty and broke them up without too much difficulty.

I pulled Annabeth against the walls of the fort, giving us a minute to breathe and strategise. "Any suggestions of what to do now?"

"Get through that door," she replied.

"How?"

"I dunno, spy boy. I thought maybe you could do that part and I could learn a little. There are only, what, five of them? You just took out fifteen for fun."

She had a point. "Yes, but that environment is totally different. These guys will be the best in the legion: you always send your best to guard the bottleneck, and they have a massive advantage when they stand just back from the entrance, because you have to funnel in single-file and they can just beat you up one at a time just through the door where it's a bit wider. Ideally I'd just chuck in a smoke grenade, but wait, I don't have one."

"What about the water?"

"What?" I don't know if Annabeth had noticed that we were standing in the middle of a field?

"The river is to our left; the city is to our right. What does that mean for the water supply?" Annabeth sighed at my blank expression. "It means that there are water pipes, probably right underneath us."

Oh.

"Give me a second." I cleared my mind as much as I could (battlefield, remember?), feeling out for the different water resources around me. The river called to me the strongest, its power singing as it rushed along the perimeter of the field, but it was way too far away. I pushed my mental boundaries towards the fort, hoping that I could find some pipes immediately underneath the guards.

I smiled. Bingo.

Annabeth tapped her foot impatiently. "Find anything? We don't have all day, you know."

"Follow me." I grinned to myself as we skirted the wall to cover the last few metres towards the guards. I waltzed nonchalantly outwards, slightly away from the wall to make myself nice and obvious to the guards tucked inside, Riptide held loosely in my hand.

I waited until they all got to their feet and drew their weapons, looking nice and threatening, and then I ruptured the pipe as violently as I possibly could.

Two Romans went a solid eight feet in the air from the power of the water spurt; not bad, if I say so myself.

I turned to Annabeth with an incredulous grin on my face. She shook her head as if to say 'you absolute child', but she was smiling too as we strolled through the now-unguarded doors across a (possibly insultingly) dry threshold and into the fort itself.

Now the fun could really start.

The First and Second Cohorts had been arrogant enough to leave the majority of the corridors unguarded, clearly not expecting anyone to make it past the front door. We wandered through the halls, checking each door to see if we could find anyone.

(This was starting to feel a bit too much like my skirmish in Justin Hammer's warehouse for my liking.)

Eventually we found what must have been the primary corridor that led to wherever they had hidden their cohorts' standards. There were roughly ten guards lining the hallway, each wearing full legionary regalia and holding a pilum and an Imperial gold gladius. Overkill.

I didn't have time to work out if we were fucked or not before Annabeth took out the first two guards simultaneously. I mean, that was a way to kick-start a party.

The corridor was narrow enough that their massive spears were much more of a hindrance than a help, and my skills in hand-to-hand and 'adapting to the environment' (aka climbing the walls) could really come to the fore. Nat would have been proud of my roundhouse kick, anyway.

I wasn't entirely sure why I felt absolutely no fear in bodily throwing myself at people armed with pointy things, but this wasn't the time to start having an existential crisis over my complete lack of self-preservation.

I whirled around and hit to legionaries with the butt of my sword, knocking them out cold, before seizing a pilum and wedging it between the walls (huh, perfect length) to use at a bar that I could swing on in order to kick another approaching Roman in the face.

I looked over at Annabeth, who had taken out another two guards in the process; two to go. I grinned and halted my attack. "Where are the standards?" These kids looked about fifteen and scared shitless, but they still tried to attack me anyway.

I ducked as one swung his pilum in a wide arc in my vague direction, before standing up and knocking the dratted thing out of his hands with the flat of Riptide's blade. "No need to be so touchy about it, jeez. Simple question: where are the standards?"

He threw himself at me again, and this time I dodged, letting him go careening into the wall behind me as I twisted back around (keeping one eye on his friend, just in case) and put my back against the opposite wall, letting him shoot back with a shocked expression and wheel at me again. The second time, I decided to put him out of his misery, catching his sword arm and pivoting so that he was pressed against the wall.

I then plucked the blade from his hand for good measure. "The standards?"

He stayed put, and I rolled my eyes and gave a little sigh, before turning just in time to land a good kick on his friend and prevent him from attacking my exposed back. Annabeth watched all of the proceedings with a faint smile. Glad to see that she had enough faith to not even warn me.

I turned back for a final time and raised an eyebrow.

The fifteen year old kid swallowed. "Down the hall, second right."

I let him go and he slumped against the wall. "See; was that so hard?" Strangely enough, he didn't reply, instead staring at me with huge, terrified eyes. Bless.

And with that, we set off down the hall to meet the final guardsmen. As we approached the door, my grip on Riptide tightened and Annabeth drew her shield closer to her body, ready for an oncoming attack. We stayed there, either side of the doorway for a few seconds before bursting in to find-

Octavian and the centurions of the First and Second Cohorts playing Mythomagic?

Anger fired through my veins. Did they really think so little of the other Cohorts that they wouldn't even participate in War Games properly?

As the Romans slowly registered the situation, they fumbled for their swords. These were the legion's best? The kids back at Camp Half-Blood would have been battle-ready quicker than these guys (okay, maybe not if I wasn't dragging them out of bed and giving them their armour pieces in the right order, but being twelve comes with some good excuses).

I lounged in the doorway, looked at my imaginary watch and generally enjoyed myself far too much while one of the centurions tried to put his helmet on back-to-front. I spied the standards leaning against the back wall of the room as the Romans faffed around. Oh, so their first thought is to be battle ready instead of protecting the very thing I was here for. Interesting.

I locked eyes with Annabeth and nodded towards the standards, hoping that she would catch my drift. She nodded once, and I took that as my cue to start.

Oh, I very much enjoyed this shitshow. I immediately caught one of their stupid plumed helmets with my sword, and knocked the soldier out, stepping carefully over his unconcious body before moving to the table, leaning forward over the discarded hands of cards. I let a brief grin curl across my face before I vaulted and slid across the table, planting my feet firmly into the chests of two more centurions. Three down; one centurion and Octavian left to go.

I caught sight of Annabeth in my peripheral vision about six feet away from where the standards were precariously balanced. I jumped off of the table to land in front of Octavian and his buddy, and immediately elbowed Octavian in the nose (what? I wasn't going to get another opportunity! Also, he wasn't holding a sword, so I might have felt a tiny bit bad hitting him with one. He did, however, have elbows.). I pushed Riptide out in front of me, and placed it against the final centurion's breastplate. "Checkmate."

Annabeth took that as her cue to grab the two standards, and tossed one towards me. Thankfully I caught it, otherwise I think I would have been murdered right then and there (by the centurion and Annabeth, simultaneously).

Annabeth grinned. "Game over."

Centurion Asshole just gaped at the two uncultured Greeks standing there, each holding a standard and both of us probably looking rather pleased with ourselves.

It was then that I realised that we probably should have worked more with our Roman teammates, as Gwen the Fifth Cohort centurion poked her head around the doorframe and gasped.

"I have to say, I thought there would be more guards."

o0O0o

At breakfast the next morning everyone steered clear of the Fifth Cohort's table, especially where Annabeth and I were sat, even other members of the Fifth Cohort. Everyone that is, apart from Hazel and her friend Frank.

Somehow I had missed Frank during every breakfast I had spent with the Fifth Cohort, which was impressive considering the fact that he was sixteen and towered five inches above me (and I was relatively tall). At least Hazel did actually have a friend her age, I was starting to worry that she only interacted with us, Nico and the praetors.

Frank was a child of Mars, but you wouldn't know that unless he told you: unlike any child of Ares that I'd ever met (ahem, Clarisse); he was a genuinely sweet kid with a kind heart and no terrifying and violent tendencies to bring up in every conversation ever (thinking about that one fourteen-year-old with the flamethrower that he took to every single meal at Camp Half-Blood. Nobody needs a flamethrower at 7am on a Tuesday!). And thankfully, he was every bit as tolerant of us weirdos as Hazel was. Plus he genuinely wasn't terrified of me, unlike seemingly every other person in this goddamn city, which really did make a nice change for once.

"I'm Canadian," he replied in answer to one of Annabeth's trivial questions about hobbies, "so when I was younger I loved ice hockey, but now I prefer archery." His face softened. "I was actually so sure that I was an Apollo kid just because of that." Godsdamn it, not another Small Child™ with an obsession with archery to pull on my heartstrings. Assassins aren't supposed to adopt strays!

"Oh, cool. Does New Rome have a good archery wing? Or do you guys not really focus on it much? Because back at Camp Half-Blood, it's a compulsory activity." Frank's face lit up at that, so clearly New Rome did not give a fuck about archery.

"Compulsory? I wish. There is a range, but if you want to do it, you do it yourself unless you're an Apollo kid. And if you're not, then they don't really want anything to do with you."

Damn it Percy, now you've made the nice child sad.

"Well, we're not leaving for a couple of days yet and we're not busy this afternoon, so if you come find me we can go hit up the range together," I suggested. "I'm not amazing at archery, but I can sometimes hit the target. I'll make you look very good, anyway."

Frank looked delighted, and I was left wondering why the hell I'd come out and said that. Sure, I wasn't busy in the afternoon, but as far as I was aware, going to do archery with a lonely child of the war god wasn't on my list prior to three seconds ago. I guess it was time to pray to Apollo and hope that I wouldn't almost kill anyone whilst we were doing archery (again). Hopefully it was one of those things that was like riding a bike, because I didn't think that I'd picked up a bow (other than to play packhorse to my prima donna of a work friend) since Basic, and even then only because Coulson thought it would be funny for us all to make idiots of ourselves under the pretense that he was 'improving Clint's leadership skills' (which he wasn't, because said 'leader' just threw popcorn at us and made unhelpful comments).

That was how I found myself at Camp Jupiter's archery range five hours later, stringing a wooden longbow and regretting every life choice I ever made.

Annabeth had found a tiny place that sold churros, and was making herself comfortable sitting on a wall to watch and enjoy her food without any unnecessary humiliation.

Frank was definitely in his element, so I let him go first while I carefully considered how best to fake an injury to get out of it, before deciding that was unsporting and I might as well just try anyway: what did I have to lose, really?

Frank finished his quiver of arrows way faster than I'd hoped, so it was time to me to try my luck. I warned him that I hadn't done any archery for quite some time, and he just laughed and reminded me that I had volunteered. Asshole, pointing out things I knew like that.

Had he given me a rifle, I'd have hit the inner ring (can't guarantee the bullseye; I'm not goddamn Hawkeye the circus-child) of a target half the size twice the distance away. Bow? I'd do my best to hit the target and not Annabeth, who was sitting behind me.

Despite all of my complaints, standing before the target and drawing a bow made me feel almost as if Clint was standing beside me, smacking my elbow when it dropped and hitting the side of my face with a twig to make sure that I was concentrating, because of course he'd taught me to shoot when the others weren't there, just as I'd taught him to swim in his most vulnerable moment.

And I could definitely hear his voice in my head as I aimed, prattling on a mile a minute about wind speed and draw weight and all of the other technical things that he'd always loved and I'd never understood, a bit like how he'd never understood how much I complained about the technique of the agents that I was trying to teach to not-drown (can't honestly call what they were doing 'swimming').

I felt a smile pull at the corner of my mouth as I let my first arrow go. It flew true and straight (for once not wobbling drunkenly while Clint wheezed with laughter), and struck the very outer edge of the innermost ring.

I was pretty pleased with that. I guess it was something that stuck with you, after all, just as the effortless-looking grace of parkour and the relentless, fluid rhythm of hand-to-hand battle stuck with you too (just as well, really, as I still had a bad habit of jumping first and looking second).

And so, wrapped up in memories, I loosed the rest of the arrows in the quiver, until the target resembled a slightly-crooked and bristly hedgehog.

But I didn't miss.

"Hey, that's not half as bad as you made out," Frank said warmly, sidling up once I'd lowered the bow and made it obvious that I wasn't doing any more shooting. "I know some Apollo legacies who don't shoot that well."

I felt myself smile at that. "Well, I can't say that it ever came naturally to me, but I had a good teacher."

"You were taught archery at spy school?" Annabeth asked. "Is there anything that they didn't teach you there?"

"How to tap dance," I replied, keeping my tone carefully level. "They only taught us ballet."

"Bullshit," Annabeth replied. "They didn't teach you ballet."

"SHIELD didn't teach me ballet," I corrected. "But I did learn some ballet while I was at SHIELD." Mostly while Nat should have been absolutely hammered, but still maintained a concerningly sober attitude until she blacked out (once there was more alcohol than blood in her system, probably). You know, business as usual.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it." I pointed an accusatory finger at her. "I'll have you know that I've got out of many sticky situations because of my acquired ballet skills. It's very good strength training." I grinned and nocked another arrow just to feel contrary.

This arrow managed to hit the edge of the inner ring again. Personally, I'd say that that's pretty impressive, but hey, what do I know? It's not like I lived with the 'world's greatest marksman' for years or anything.

Frank, give him his due, didn;t seem that horrified by the fact that Annabeth and I were openly discussing a top-secret spy organisation in front of him, but I did suddenly realise that he was one hundred percent not supposed to know. I put the bow down as carefully as I could before spinning around to face him. "You probably shouldn't have heard that. Scratch that, you definitely shouldn't have heard that. Is there any way of convincing you not to blab at all?"

Frank smiled, seemingly not-terrified by the realisation that he'd given an assassin a weapon to play around with. "I don't need convincing; your secret's safe with me." He held his hand up in some sort of approximation of Scout's Honour (Roman's honour? Martian's honour? Wait, nevermind, it's not important.).

Bless Frank and his huge heart. I wanted to drag him back to Camp Half-Blood with me, so that I could personally protect him from all of the horrors in the world. Gods, how was he a son of Mars?

"Good." I smiled and gestured back to the range to let Frank have another go.

After about three minutes, he stopped shooting and turned to face me, a puzzled expression on his face. "Can you actually do ballet?"

I turned my head from left to right, checking that no one else on the range was watching (and that my shoes were suitably slippery so that I didn't stick and faceplant) before I did a neat double pirouette, Nat's not-so-kind Russian feedback echoing in my head. I smirked at Frank's look of surprise.

"Why are you telling me this?" he stuttered out, eyes wide.

"Because no one will ever believe you." I put on a serious voice, before laughing, hoping that Frank understood that it was a joke. Please understand that it was a joke.

Even Annabeth had the good grace to look a little surprised. You know what, people knowing my secret was starting to make things pretty good fun.

Of course, she had to ask where exactly a double pirouette would ever come in useful in an espionage scenario. Fortunately, I'm quite good at making things up.

"You'll never do a double pirouette on a mission, but it's a useful one for keeping your balance and keeping an idea of where you are when you can't really see, for example when you're being dragged off with a sack over your head and want to remember where the exit is."

Annabeth snorted quite inelegantly. "And when exactly have you been dragged off with a sack over your head? Surely that's not something that happens in real life."

Okay, so she'd got me there. "Maybe it's never happened to me, but that doesn't mean that it's never happened," I declared with as much pompous grandeur as I could summon (which wasn't much, to be completely honest.

She shook her head slightly. "You're ridiculous. How you survived long enough to leave the agency, I'll honestly never know."

Oh, me too, Annabeth, me too.

o0O0o

Within two days, our time in New Rome was coming to an end as we packed our bags back into the boot of our tiny car, ready for the long drive home. I, weirdly enough, was actually going to miss New Rome, for all of it's stupid ceremonies and twiddly doorknobs. There was just something about the permanent nature of the place that Camp Half-Blood didn't have. I'd always thought that the Greeks were endlessly optimistic about demigod life, but now that I could see the Roman soldiers walking along the cobbled streets and discussing where they'd love to live later on, it dawned on me that they were the optimistic ones, because they actually believed that they could live beyond the years that they spent fighting, and for all of Camp Half-Blood's magical boundaries, that was something that wasn't ever really on the cards for me before I'd come here.

Besides, Camp Half-Blood was overrun with irritating teenagers. The fact that I was in my twenties before I appeared on the monstrous radar was quite unusual: generally if you lived under the radar into your mid-twenties, you weren't going to manifest powers of any magnitude to attract anything nasty. Well, I've always liked to buck the trend, I suppose.

Gods, just the concept of having a whole city, where families could live and work without constantly looking over their shoulders for the danger behind every corner. I didn't think that I could remember a point in my life when I didn't live in constant fear of what could be coming after me. Perhaps that was why I adapted so well to living at SHIELD and then to living on the run and ending up at demigod summer camp: all my life, and I'd never once stopped running. Maybe I was getting old, then, if I was thinking about stopping now.

I snuck a glance at Annabeth and wondered how she felt about New Rome, if she wanted the same sense of security that I wanted from this place. Wow, that got kind of creepy real fast. I blinked to pull myself out of whatever the Hades was going on in my mind.

Annabeth gave a small cheer as she slammed the boot down, and it closed first time, jolting me out of my daydream. "Can your military packing do that, Jackson?"

Yes, probably. I packed the car in the first place. "Of course not. Only the best Architect in the Greek world could possibly even dream of doing that."

"Is that sarcasm I detect in your voice? You can drive first."

Asshole.

Before I could retort, I heard the crunch of gravel behind us. I spun around, with Annabeth close on my heels, to find Jason standing there.

"Losing your touch, are we, or did you want us to hear you coming?" I asked slyly, feeling a crooked smirk twist my face. Oh, I've always loved winding Jason up. He just makes it so damn easy.

He shook his head. "Not all of us are descended from cats, Percy. Some of us can't walk silently on all surfaces, least of all gravel. Anyway, I didn't come here to bicker about my apparent lack of sneaking skill. I came to say goodbye, and to wish you luck."

Aw, thanks man. "It was good to see you, Jason," I admitted, proffering a hand.

He shook it warmly. "Also, don't come back through Virginia; I heard that there's an incident being investigated there and they're probably checking plates and cameras. And I didn't tell you that."

I smiled again. "They'd have to catch me to ask me, and you know I wouldn't tell 'em anyway."

Jason pointed a finger at me. "One last thing," he said, "don't forget about us back at SHIELD, okay. If you ever need anything, Clint, Coulson, and I would be there in a heartbeat."

"And Nat would be garotting the culprit," I added wryly.

Jason nodded. "Exactly. But you know I'm serious about this. You ever need anything, you call us, right?"

"Right." Man, just mentioning them by name out loud made me miss them even more.

He nodded towards the driver's seat. "You heard the lady; first shift. Don't let me keep you." Ever the gentleman, of course. Thanks for that, man.

I folded myself into the ridiculous car and adjusted the seat with a sigh. Annabeth jumped in on the passenger side with a Cheshire cat-magnitude grin on her face, just to rub it in.

I revved the engine loudly just as Jason walked past the back of the car, and laughed when he jumped slightly, shouting 'you wish!' at me as I reversed out of the parking bay.

He stayed in the car park, a lone blond sentinel in my rearview mirror, just watching until we were well into the tunnel, and I couldn't see him anymore.

Onwards, Jackson. No more use in dwelling on the mistakes of the past now any more than it was six months ago.

We (I say, as if Annabeth was actually driving) drove in companionable silence for almost an hour, until Annabeth spoke up out of the blue. "Those people Jason mentioned," she said, curiosity spiking her tone, "Clint and Nat. Were they your team, or were they just people you worked with on occasion like Jason? Because Coulson was more of a supervisor, right?"

I swallowed, hand tightening on the steering wheel. "Uh, you've actually met Clint. Well, seen might be a more appropriate term. He was there during the Battle of Manhattan; Kronos got his slimy fingers on him."

"The battle," she mused. "The one that Lu-" she paused, "that Kronos held hostage just outside the Empire State Building? Who tried to get into the elevator?"

I nodded. "That's the one. We didn't just work together; he was my best friend before I even went to SHIELD. Nat was an old friend of his who came crawling out of the woodwork to check up on him and we then had to try and recruit to avoid shooting her." I glanced over at Annabeth, who looked a little confused. "It's kind of complicated, but to put it simply, Clint was a lonely fifteen-year-old gun-for-hire who decided to come to my school, and Nat was a KGB agent who really cared about her 'hawk'."

"Okay, I'd just like to say that that didn't clear things up at all, and now I feel I know even less about your past than I did before, which is pretty impressive, since before this trip I didn't even know what you were doing in Chicago. Hell, I still don't know what you were doing in Chicago."

I gritted my teeth before swerving into the nearest layby, so that I could take a deep breath and close my eyes for a few seconds without putting us in danger of dying (something tells me shutting your eyes on the freeway is a Bad Idea). "Fine. I was in Chicago because I was running away from my final mission, okay. I panicked and fled from Clint and Nat, and all I wanted to do was get home and see my mom, but I couldn't because it would put her in even more danger." Fuck, I really needed to see Mom. "I told you why I ran, right?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"And as for Chicago, it was basically random. I chose it strategically because I hopefully wouldn't get detected and I could lay low for a while. It's not glamorous." I sighed. "It's just because I messed up, and I messed up bad, and now I'll never be able to go back and fix it."

Annabeth shook her head and sighed. "Did you not take in anything that happened over the last couple of weeks? Your boss would welcome you back, so would Jason, and I would think your two friends would too, if they cared about you at all."

I laughed hollowly. "Coulson was my handler, sure, but it was hard enough to convince him to take on an ex-KGB agent, and we only managed because both Clint and I threatened to defect if he didn't. Coulson had the final say then, but because he's already pulled a stunt like that in the past, he doesn't have the authority to sign on agents now. That has to come from the Director himself, and while he's no stickler for the rulebook, there's literally no way in hell that he'll even rescind my 'shoot on sight' order. I wouldn't get within a hundred feet of HQ." I started the car again, my head slightly clearer. "Anyway, would you mind if we took a little detour through New York?"

I hadn't seen Mom in a while, and maybe it was time to pay her a visit, risks be damned.

o0O0o

Annabeth drove us into the suburbs of New York three days later. "Which house is your mom's? I'll try to get close."

"Fifth one on the left; it's got a bright blue front door. You can't miss it." I craned my neck to look out of the window. Gods, it had been so long since I had been here.

Annabeth even managed to get a parking spot nice and close. "I'll wait in the car," she said. "If you're a while, I'll go to a cafe down the road and have a coffee. Keep in touch, okay?"

I pulled up the hood on my hoodie (trying not to look too much like a gangster), and nodded. "Thanks for this."

She smiled. "Not a problem. Off you go; don't keep her waiting any longer."

I took a deep breath, and opened the car door, stepping out onto the familiar tree-lined street. Gods, this was an upgrade from the apartment that we used to share with Gabe, and knowing that I'd helped, even just a little bit, to get the money that Mom and Paul needed to buy it filled me with a little surge of pride.

I crossed the pavement pretty quickly, keeping my eyes down to avoid any cameras, and jumped up onto the step to ring the doorbell.

I heard some shuffling behind the door, before it swung open to reveal Mom, a faintly confused look on her face as if to say loud and clear 'we weren't expecting anybody'.

She stopped in her tracks. "Percy?"

I smiled. "Hey, Mom. Sorry it's been a while."

She grabbed my wrist and practically dragged me through the open door, closing it behind me. "A while, Perseus? Last time I heard from you was over a year ago, and it was some incoherent message about it being 'too dangerous' to come and visit. I thought you were dead!"

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I just reached out and hugged her for all that I was worth. There would be a time for words later, but now was for remembering why I came in the first place.

It was some time before I straightened up again, wiping my eyes a little. "Did you know who my father actually was?" I asked, voice soft.

Mom closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. "Yes, Percy. I thought that having Gabe around would hide the demigod smell, but obviously I failed in protecting you there. I'm sorry that I never told you, I really am. Do you want to come on through, and I'll make us something to drink? We can catch up."

I nodded, and took off my shoes on the mat, knowing how much pride she had in the cleanliness of her carpet in this place. "That would be nice."

She smiled at me, and darted off towards the kitchen, calling "Paul?" I took it as my cue to go find the living room. I had been here before, after all.

There was a faint noise from upstairs that I assumed was a response.

"Paul, I think you should get down here. We've got a guest!"

He must have moved towards the stairs, because I could definitely hear him shouting "Who?"

Mom laughed, and at the achingly familiar sound my heart broke a little. "Get down here, and you'll see!"

After a couple of distant crashes and the distinct sound of somebody quite tired coming down the stairs, the living room door opened to reveal Paul standing in the doorway.

His jaw dropped. "Percy?"

I shoved my hands in my pockets to try and stop them from shaking. "Hi Paul. It's been a while, huh?"

He sputtered. "At least you're not dead."

"Well, I've got to find a way to keep you guys on your toes."

Paul made a noise that clearly indicated that he did not like being kept on his toes.

I nodded in understanding. "Sorry."

He shook his head furiously. "No need to be sorry, my boy. What matters is that you came back and you're here now."

Mom came back in with three mugs and a plate of biscuits (how she did all of that so fast, I'll never know). "Don't stand around like strangers! Take a seat, you two. And Perseus, you've got some explaining to do."

I flinched and automatically deflected the command. "You're not surprised that I know about Dad, are you?"

Mom's hand trembled on the arm of the sofa. "No." She pursed her lips. "Clint told us that he saw you in New York during the so-called 'gas leak'. He saw you holding a sword, and fighting all sorts of monsters. It was then that I realised. What happened to make you leave SHIELD?"

"That," I said simply. "My powers started to manifest and it scared me." I consciously loosened my death grip on the mug that I was holding before I accidently broke it. "I couldn't control it, and I didn't want SHIELD to find out because I didn't know what they would do to me, so I ran away. But it didn't matter, because it turns out that SHIELD knew about demigods anyway and I would have been completely fine." I looked down at the carpet and absently traced circles with my toe.

Mom's shoulder dropped. "Oh, Percy." She pulled me in for a hug. "Where are you staying? Is it that summer camp your dad told me about?"

I nodded. "It's pretty good, all things considered. I mean I wasn't expecting the rock climbing wall that spewed lava, but like it's only, like, the fiftieth most dangerous situation I've been in this year."

Mom's smile dropped. "Percy, it's January."

"Good point. But I guess most of the incidents come from the bit where I was allowed to drive most of the way across the country in a car that should probably not be allowed on the road. Nothing terrible." I left out the whole bit about getting captured and tortured; she thought that I'd left that part of my life behind and I didn't want to contradict her belief. I quickly changed the subject. "So, you mentioned that you've seen Clint in the last six months? How's he doing? I mean, the last time we saw each other wasn't exactly the best moment to catch up."

Mom and Paul's faces both softened. "He's been over whenever he can between missions; I think losing you really got both him and us to cherish the relationships we had with each other. He's even helped to decorate the house; the guest room appears to be more for you two than for actual guests considering the amount of purple and blue he's put in it."

Sounded hideous, but what could you really expect if you gave Clint Barton a paintbrush? I found myself smiling at the thought, and then suddenly struck by sadness, because I'd missed all of this; all of the little domestic moments that really made a family. And because of one stupid mistake, I would probably be on the run for the rest of my life. That domestic dream was just that: a dream.

Fuck.

I took a sip of my coffee to ignore the melancholy I was feeling. A bit of jitter juice makes most things better, after all.

Mom seemed to divine the slight dip in the mood, and changed the subject again. "So, have you made any new friends at this summer camp?"

"Uhh, yeah, a couple." An involuntary smile slipped onto my face. "Nico's an annoying little shit; he's like Clint in that way. And I've seen a few more familiar faces. You remember Will Solace? He's there. And so's Malcolm, you know, my college roommate. And then there's Annabeth. Chiron sent us on a diplomatic mission together. She's great. She's outside, actually, but she wanted to give us a bit of time to reunite, I guess."

Paul smiled at that. "That's nice of her, but I think we should invite her in. Why don't you give her a call?"

I nodded, and hoped that I'd covered up the soppy look on my face when I spoke about her, because otherwise this could make for a very interesting conversation ('oh, so you're the girl my son's pining after, that's nice'). I set my coffee mug down on the table, and rushed up to the front door and to the car. I knocked on the one window I trusted not to break, and waited for Annabeth to manually wind down the window (imagine having a car with electric windows in the 21st Century, right?). "Hey. My mom and stepdad wanted to invite you in for coffee and biscuits."

A flurry of emotions ran over Annabeth's face before she opened the door. I tried not to analyse every expression, as I prayed that her reaction wasn't a bad thing.

I mean, she followed me to the door and seemed willing enough to go inside, so it can't have been that bad, right?

Mom instantly greeted Annabeth with a hug, which probably would have been fine if Annabeth had ever had a maternal figure (that wasn't a teenage runaway). Annabeth froze up in Mom's arms.

Fuck. Fuck. What if this screws up our friendship? What if it hinders anything else I might want to-

Nevermind, because Annabeth relaxed into Mom's arms. Thanks brain, for freaking the hell out for a good nanosecond there.

It was a pretty long hug for people who'd never met before, but I didn't mention it. WHen they did break apart, both were smiling, and Mom immediately offered Annabeth a coffee, which she gladly accepted.

And before I knew it, I was back on the couch in the living room, mug back in hands and munching on a cookie. Man, I'd missed those cookies. Mom semi-interrogated Annabeth about what I was like at Camp; was I being a good son? Did I offer to help with the younger campers? Is he actually eating healthy food? Does he wash his socks?

Thankfully the answer to all of those questions was yes, otherwise I would have got an absolute earful from Mom.

Annabeth also gave a highly-dramatised account of the events that led up to my being allowed to swim in the lake (complete with fake re-enactment of an argument with a naiad that I definitely never had), which both Mom and Paul thought was absolutely hilarious.

"If you're still swimming, you could apply to the regional championships, now that you haven't got the pressure from SHIELD," Paul suggested.

"That sounds like a great idea, apart from the bit where I'm still technically a fugitive," I pointed out. "Imagine the headlines: 'Local boy who went missing over a year ago turns up at a high-level swimming gala'. I think that might raise a few questions."

Paul conceded that I probably had a point there, and Annabeh shot me a Look when neither of my parents were watching which indicated how unimpressed she continued to be with my stubborn desire to not rock up at SHIELD HQ and most likely get myself shot full of holes for my trouble.

Annabeth leaned forward, hands wrapped around her mug for warmth. "Anyway, what was Percy like as a kid? Because if he was anywhere near as chaotic as he is now, you have the patience of saints."

The conversation came to a bit of a crashing halt. Now, this was probably the part where normal families brought out their photo albums to embarrass their son, but we didn't really do photo albums. In fact, there were very few pictures of me as a kid apart from the ones that got taken in school.

But of course, Mom swooped in and saved us all. "When he was little, Percy was actually pretty quiet," she said with a small smile on her face. "But then, he sort of grew into his ADHD instead of out of it, so he turned into a ball of hyperactive energy that I usually just threw in the swimming pool until he tired himself out, to be perfectly honest."

I mean, there was very little true honesty in that statement (sure, it was true, but it wasn't the whole truth by a long way), but Annabeth laughed, so it can't have come across too badly.

I decided to pick up the story a little. "What Mom isn't mentioning because she thinks I'm a total ray of sunshine is that I was what teachers tend to call a 'disruptive influence', which got me kicked out of quite a few schools."

Mom sighed lightly. "He was always a really good kid, until he met that crazy friend of his, old Clint Barton. I have honestly never seen a child that small either eat that many cookies or grow quite so much in a single summer break. Next to him, Percy is just a blip on the 'destructive influence' scale."

"You insult him as if he's not the pseudo-son you've always wanted," I pointed out with a broad grin on my face.

"I've already got a son," Mom said. "But I do love Clint, even if he did once bring an enormous cake for no apparent reason and proceed to distract you from your SAT revision so that the two of you could eat the entire thing in a single sitting."

"Maybe we were just hungry, Mom."

Mom raised a single eyebrow at me, and I shut up.

Gods, it was good to be home.

Thanks for reading ! Updates could be slow over the next couple of months as we're applying to unis. However, the next chapter is the Battle of New York, so the Avengers make an appearance !

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