Shout out to LittleManY2K, because I just saw his comment and realized that YES, I stole his metaphor! I'm really sorry, bro. I had no idea, so here is your shout out.

Okay, that's out of the way now. I had to put a sticky note on my forehead as a reminder last night.

Hey Guys! So, I was in a depressed mood when I wrote the last portion of this chapter. A friend of mine going through family stuff right now... anyways, I am currently struggling with grades, performing arts practice, and a job! Yay! So I struggled to write, and when I finally did, This was the product. Tough times ahead with College resumes (or are they applications?) and stuff, and I don't think they'll let me use my Fanfic account as a skill! Can't wait though, so yeah, enough about me.

Now, more about me as I completely disregard everything from the above contents! (Except for you, LittleManY2K) I was looking at the stats for this story, which led me to realize I know nothing about statistics, but still I compared the reviews to current ongoing stories on the PJO/Avenger crossover page.

I nearly did a spit take.

This story is the seventh most reviewed story on the whole incomplete PJO/Avengers crossover page.

(Pause so I can scream internally)

Guys... We're in seventh. Seventh. That's amazing! That's beyond anything I'd ever hoped for! You guys literally made my day, and I was having a rotten day today. But the thing is, I'm a greedy guy.

So I propose that we keep going until we hit first. I know, crazy. But the leading story is at 900-something (and for good reason. I read it and loved it) but I know that we can do better. more PJO is just around the corner, along with the questions that no one has asked yet: Where is Hydra in all of this? What is Annabeth going to do? Is Tartarus involved? Has Percy's identity been compromised by Danny, Andrew, and Terry?

All of this will be revealed! (Flailing my arms wildly) Ooooooohhhhh!

Disclaimer: I am not Rick, or Marvel.


Steve:

He was bedridden, and Steve was too conflicted to know if he should care or not.

All this information being thrown at him, all this talk of Greeks and Romans and Egyptians… The Norse stuff, he could deal with. Thor was a good guy, and everything he said made sense, one way or another. His Norse was science.

But Thor had taken him aside last night and told him the truth that even Percy might not have known about. Thor had told him: Norse mythological gods existed as well. "I cannot explain it. After we left Midgard, the people formed their own beliefs… They recreated us, and now they exist as well." He'd gripped his shoulder tightly, keeping his steady gaze level with Steve's.

"Percy Jackson is your friend, Steve. I urge you to be open and ask yourself: why would he not tell you. Was he doing so out of spite towards you, or spite towards his own family?"

Thor had left Steve to ponder overnight, and ponder he did. It wasn't like anyone had gotten any sleep the night before. Steve could feel the tension like a knot he couldn't reach in his back.

But he knew he didn't have this tension like the others around him had. His wasn't so crushing, or painful. It was a minor discomfort, and it was setting him on edge, if anything.

Steve had been given a culture shock before, when he was thawed and entered the 21st century. He'd discovered so much, and found that his personal loss had not entirely been in vain. WWII was over, but he could still fight the wars he was meant to.

But he also knew that with progress came evil, looking to corrupt and soil what time took so much care to build. He knew, looking at the boy in the recovery bed, that Percy's second life would prove to be destructive. Even more so than the 21st century.

And Steve couldn't handle that again. He couldn't go through another dramatic change like that.

James and Wanda had to be moved to the recovery ward, and Tony had volunteered to stay by their sides (even if Wanda didn't like Tony that much). Clint and Natasha had been requested back to Homestead, and really Steve guessed it was because Percy was going to sit them all down, one at a time, like he'd do when they all fought like the dysfunctional family they were.

The others were scattered all over the building, waiting to be called to Percy's bedroom.

Percy hadn't been as bad off as the other two, and so Steve had taken him to his own room instead of the recovery room. Now, he was on guard duty.

His own thought process shocked him a little. A week ago, he'd say he was a babysitter, taking care of his little brother. Now, he was a guard, watching over a convict.

He put his head in his hands. Everything was so messed up.

Why? Steve thought. Why does this have to happen?

He was seriously debating whether or not he even wanted to be in the room with Percy when Percy woke up. It started as him jerking up in his bed, followed by him gasping and clutching at his head. Steve helped Percy settle back down on his pillow. "Take it easy, champ. You had a bad dream, I take it?" Steve offered Percy a cup of water from the nightstand.

Percy took it and sipped slowly, savoring the wetness against his parched throat. When he set the glass back down, he wouldn't meet Steve's eyes. "I wish it was all a bad dream, Steve. But it isn't anymore."

Steve looked down at his hands clasped together, because he knew what was coming. "Oh?"

He waited for the lecture to start. For Percy to go off about how he didn't want to lie to them, and how he was sorry, and all the other bull crap Steve would have to take with a spoonful of sugar.

But Percy never ceased to surprise him.

"Oh, cut the crap, Rogers. I get you're pissed, but holding a grudge isn't going to make it any better."

Steve's eyebrows raised. Percy snorted, then winced like movement hurt. He took another sip of water. "If you think for even a second I regret not telling you about all the crap my life is, then you'd be wrong." He said.

Now Steve was looking Percy in the eye. "And man, you have the worst attitude about all this. You know, the reason I don't tell anyone about my family is because what huge dicks they were. It's embarrassing, and frankly, I cut ties with them because they tried to kill me, Rogers. It wasn't by choice.

"Suuuure, I'm Mr. Big, Bad Avenger. I get to fight off invaders and pose for the camera." His look became more fierce. "I was doing that before the Avengers existed, Steve. And I didn't have a camera slowing me down, either."

Steve was glad his hands rested under his jaw, because it would've dropped had it not been propped closed. "Percy, you lied to me."

Percy rolled his eyes. "As if you never lie to us. I know about the Barnes file, Steve. Every time you and Sam flew off for no reason? Did you even think about what you were doing?" Percy searched Steve's eyes. "Of course you did, Steve. You didn't want to deal with telling us if you ever found Bucky. I get that.

"It's the exact opposite with my family." Percy said bitterly. "I didn't even want Clint to know, but he had to. He had to know what he was getting into when he was letting my sister live under his roof. If it were up to me, you guys would have never even heard the word 'Demigod' come out of my mouth." Percy admitted.

Steve was completely awestruck. No one ever spoke to him like this, besides maybe Tony.

When Percy spoke again, his voice was softer. "You had to go through a reality check in your twenties, Steve. I learned when I was twelve. I saved the world before I was twenty, twice. When I got out, I had nothing left but the scars and the pain and the promise of me starving to death by the time I was nineteen."

Percy shook his head. "Steve, you're looking at me like I'm that seventeen year old kid that you interrogated the first day we met. Do me a favor? Don't come back in here until you can remember that we're still a family." Percy finished, then he stood up from the bed on shaky feet. Leaving a jaw-dropped Captain America sitting by his bed, he went into his bathroom, locking the door behind him.

"He said that?" Tony said, awestruck.

When Steve nodded, Tony nodded in satisfaction. "I taught him well."

Steve was dead serious, and Tony's easygoing humor wasn't helping him. "Tony, should we really be trusting him now? What if he just decides that he should leave us? That he'd be better off?"

Tony shook his head, returning his attention to the jet engine he was making. Blackjack was going to need to be replaced, and Percy wasn't there to help him this time. Steve could tell Tony was struggling. "The way you talk about him now, I want to leave too."

Steve shook his head. "Not this time, Tony. I want you on my side here. Percy should've told us, should he?"

Tony slammed a wrench back onto the bench, and Steve was startled. Tony was always very careful with his tools, treating them like a part of the team sometimes. "Rogers, get your head out of that dark cloud Right. Now. Percy's past is his business, just like how we don't bring up my dad, or Bucky, or whoever. Yes, I was pissed he didn't say anything before. Now? I get it."

Steve frowned. Tony had seemed conflicted at the table this morning. Half mad at Percy, half sympathetic. The only thing that had happened between then and now… "When did James wake up? What did he say? Is Wanda awake yet?" He started asking rapid-fire.

Tony put his hands up in surrender. "Slow down, grandpa. You'll heart might give out. Yes, James is awake. Wanda isn't, though, and that concerns me a little."

Steve chose to ignore the age jab, seeing as they were a regular thing. He was acting like an excited kid, he knew, but he needed to know. "But what did he say?"

Tony shook his head, turning back to his tools and the jet engine. Steve might've just been imagining it, but he thinks Tony might've whispered an apology to his wrench. "He didn't need to say anything. James was shaking and screaming for an hour before he woke up, Steve. Wanda was in a cold sweat when Vision took my place, and… This is what the kid's memories are doing to them. You remember when she got into our heads." He reminded.

Steve was back in another time, with her. She's taking his hand and putting it on her hip and the other in hers. She's guiding him through the waltz, her smile as bright as her eyes. She tilted her head back, laughing… Never, never, had Steve been so happy and devastated all at the same time.

"He told us that he fell into Hell, remember? Sam told me about the diagnosed PTSD, and add a downhill relationship… Steve, it doesn't matter how we should think about him now. The Kid has flaws, so what? They're bigger than most people, but we're the Avengers! Earth's mightiest hot messes! If you can't get over it, then I think you need to leave." Tony said seriously. He gestured with his wrench to the door. "Steve, I'm serious. If you can't get over it, then leave."

Steve was awestruck. Tony always used jokes to get everything to Steve. The serious talks didn't exist when the two of them were in the same room, unless they were yelling at one another.

But now Steve understood.

Tony had to pound it into his head, but now it was making sense.

A lot of thoughts shot through his head, but when he really thought it all through, one thought summed it all up in twenty hours of knowing gods existed.

I am an idiot.

Wanda:

Her screams echoed in her head and through the room.

She sat up, her vision a blur that wouldn't focus right, like a broken camera lens. Her whole body was coated in sweat, and her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Never had she ever felt so guilty about the powers she'd been gifted with. Never.

She'd seen… She'd seen horrors. She'd seen two beautiful, majestic homes. Two camps that glittered in the sunlight and gave Wanda a rush of pure joy she'd never, not once felt in her entire life. Little cabins and white city streets. A home away from home.

Then she'd seen them burning.

She'd heard the screams of children, of adults and teenagers. She watched unicorns and pegasi trampling one another in the process of trying to escape the carnage. She saw buildings crumble, forests flattened, and lightning exploding in her face.

She'd stood on two hills at the same time, watching two cultures completely wiped off the face of the Earth.

But then the bodies had appeared.

When Wanda had control of herself, she'd tried to look away. She'd tried to cover her ears and cry that this would stop.

Behind her, corpses had begun to appear. Names flew into her mind to accommodate the information.

Beckendorf.

Selina.

Grover.

Hope.

Zoë.

Hazel.

Leo.

Jason.

Juniper.

Reyna.

Hedge.

Luke.

Ethan.

Mom.

Piper.

Bianca.

Frank.

Annabeth… Annabeth… ANNABETH!

Wanda screamed, trying to look away from the blonde corpse in front of her face, but she couldn't. A sense of grief and pain and complete and utter anguish overcame her. It wasn't her own emotion, but a tie to Percy she had looped for herself. She was stuck.

To make matters worse, Annabeth Chase wasn't dead yet.

Annabeth Chase. How long had they searched for a last name? How long had they questioned and pondered what she might've looked like. How she might've acted. Her face, eyes, hair color… This forbidden individual that the very mention of the name sent their friend into silence.

Now Wanda knew. Oh, how horrible knowing was.

...

She was above him, speaking. "He's the one, Chiron. He has to be."

He was in a room, and she was spoon feeding him, asking questions rapid-fire.

He was in the lake, and she was smirking at him.

He was in a the back of a truck full of circus animals, and she was messing with a ring on her bead necklace.

He was on a beach, and she was telling him she was on his side.

She was calling him her best friend, and an idiot, and his heart was soaring.

She was punching a bully, telling him to lay off.

She was on an island, telling him what a cute Guinea pig he made.

She was cry in his arms, deep under water. He'd just seen her laid before her, all her dreams and ambitions around them.

She put a sneaker in his face, but apologized afterwards.

He kissed her cheek, calling her a genius.

She was kissing his cheek, and the crowd was going wild.

She was dancing with him, and he felt awkward being so short compared to her. Still, her smile was radiant, and directed at him.

She was missing, and he couldn't get her out of his head. His nightmares were getting worse.

She was dancing with him again, and she ran a hand through his hair softly, picking at the grey that had appeared.

They were fighting, side by side against scorpions, contemplating how unlucky they could be.

She was crying again, into his chest as they stood in her cabin. He didn't know how he could help her.

He was certain she was going to punch him. But then their lips had connected instead, and everything else, even the volcano around them, didn't matter.

He was back. She looked like she wanted to punch him again. No kiss, just her. That was enough, even if she was angry.

She was telling him she'd loved Luke. He doesn't know what to believe. He wants it all to end. He doesn't want this.

She's screaming at him, calling him a coward. He screams back. She walks away.

He's in the water, but it feels like acid. He's burning, and there she is, smiling above him. "You aren't getting away from me that easily." She says, reaching out. He takes her hand, like he always wanted to. He vaguely wonders if this is Elysium.

He's beside her on Olympus. She looks so depressed, so sad and alone. But he doesn't think he can help.

They're fighting, and he feels as invincible as he was promised. But she screams, and Ethan has the knife…

He's in the hotel, and invincibility doesn't work for his emotions. She looks so pale… He's scared.

They're defending Olympus. She reminds Luke of who he is. Luke asks if she loved him. The vice crushing his heart loosens when she says no.

They're kissing. Full-on make out, and he's a mess. He's in the lake, she's laughing, and it's not so bad anymore.

She's in a dress, they're in Paris, he feels golden. They're in love, he's sure of it.

He's waking up in a strange place. She's all he has left.

He's with Reyna, but it's not right, what she's asking. He says no.

He's in a library with his new friends. He's so angry, because why can't he remember?!

He remembers. Everything. He comes to the realization of why she was still in his head. She wasn't. Annabeth Chase had a place in his heart, and that would never change.

Ella has a prophecy, and he frowns. He knows that Annabeth is the key. He just wants to help.

She's in front of him. They're kissing. Now he's on the ground. She's yelling, he's laughing, and it's soooo them it hurts.

They're in the stables. They talk like the old times, and they get in trouble. Percy wouldn't have it any other way.

She has to go, and he's worried, but it's Annabeth. She'll make it. She always does.

They're falling, and they're both crying. He has one objective: keep her alive. Keep her safe.

They're in Hell. He doesn't know what to do. All he wants is to keep her safe.

He nearly killed a goddess, and Annabeth is looking at him in horror. He never wants to see her look at him like that ever again.

The river Acheron is in front of him. It's whispering that he's killed so many, and that Annabeth is next. He'd cause her death next. But he keeps going, because she needs his help, and he can give what's left of him if she survives.

They're out, and she comes to him that night for comfort. He greets her with open arms. Nothing will be the same.

He fights Polybotes. He deserves to die. He doesn't deserve Annabeth. Jason tries to help, but he doesn't understand.

They kiss where the rivalry started. He feels something break, but something else fixing itself. He wants to say it's their relationship, but he doesn't know which action it's doing.

The battle was won. He has her, she has him. A promise is made to continue on to New Rome. To be together as long as fate allows.

They fight with Carter and Sadie. They have this new information that weighs them down, but they're together. That's what matters.

She was called away, and Percy breaks. In the middle of Ancient Word Civ, they mention the name Tartarus. That's all it takes for him to snap. He runs back to Camp Halfblood, feeling so alone.

She's back. Apparently she was sent to recruit a demigod. His name is Mark, and he's a son of Apollo. Percy doesn't respond, because Annabeth is never this ecstatic about a new camper.

He sees her on occasion, but she teaches archery more than often, and praises Mark as her star pupil. She doesn't have nightmares or flashbacks anymore. Percy doesn't know what's wrong with him.

He ventures out one night, all the way past the campfire and onto the beach. In the ocean, he prays to his father. He gets no answer. On his way back, he sees Mark and Annabeth on the beach. Their position is intimate, and something in Percy shatters at the way they smile at one another. He sneaks away before they catch him.

She visits him, shattering his isolation and solitude. He yells at her when she says they need a break. He admits he saw them, and demands she leave.

That's it. He never saw her again. Until a few days ago.

...

Wanda feels every moment between the two demigods, both good and bad, from Percy's perspective. She feels every emotion, whether that be love, friendship, loss, hope, hate, and everything in between. This is nothing she had ever felt before. Ever.

Wanda sees Annabeth on the hill, surrounded by the bodies of Percy's friends and family. She has a wound in her shoulder, gushing red and staining the orange and purple shirt she wears. Her face is paler than her time in Tartarus, and her mouth is speckled with blood.

Her hair is as thin and tangled as straw, her vein sticking out on her face. Her once beautiful, intelligent grey eyes are dimming. As Percy walks calmly to her side, he looks totally impassive. He looks down at the girl he once knew. His emotions are cold. Wanda doesn't know what he'll do.

"Percy." She whispers feebly.

He stands straight. He doesn't react.

He doesn't react.

He doesn't react…

He falls to his knees at her side in what feels like slow motion. Fire and storm surround them all, engulfing the hillside around them. Wanda knows this is his greatest fear. This isn't his end.

It's theirs.

He cradles her head in his hands, and leans over until their foreheads are touching. She puts a weak, shaky arm around his neck, the other cradles his jaw like it's made of glass.

She smiles. It's the weakest, smallest gesture Wanda has ever seen, and the blood on the edges of her mouth is a gruesome reminder of her state. Her teeth are stained, and her mouth opens.

"I-ah, I… I lo…" She tries to form the words, but they won't leave her mouth properly. Percy sits up, cradling her fully into his arms. The fire edges closer. The wind is picking up, and lightning strikes dangerously close.

"Shhh." He says, putting his lips to her forehead. "Shhh." He repeats.

Her final breath is cut off violently, and when she is perfectly still in his arms Percy sets her down on the charred Earth. He has to use his right middle and pointer fingers to close her eyes.

Then, almost silently, he lays beside her and cries.

The fire and lightning end his tormented moans of complete anguish.


Soooo... That ending was sad. Even for me, I reread it and did a double take cause that is dark, especially for me.

Remember: we're shooting for first place! Can I get forty reviews for this chapter? Maybe Fifty? If you get me sixty reviews by the end of the day, I'll update tomorrow.

Read, Review, Follow, & Favorite! New expectations there.

LHG :)