"So let me get this straight. I send you to a high school, to talk to some children, tell them what you do, be good role models blah blah blah, and you manage, to wreck half their hall, put a minor in danger and get into a fight with two overgrown cats?!" Fury yelled.

"I told you; they were dogs!" Tony said. "Nah, they looked like cats to me," Clint stated unhelpfully.

'I don't care if they were chickens! That is not the point.' Fury angrily sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'You say you think the boy involved had something to do with the animals disappearance?'

'We think so,' Steve said, 'he ran into the fight, putting himself in the ring of danger, trying to get their attention. He managed to injure one amazingly.'

'Can't tell if he was brave or stupid,' Tony remarked. 'Definitely stupid,' Clint said, remembering the snark the teen gave him earlier.

'Amazingly? Why do you say that? They were just a couple dogs, or cats, or whatever they were' Fury asked, ignoring the pair.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. 'Well, as he was about to be attacked, he flipped through air, gracefully at that, and avoided any advance they made on him, while managing to do some pretty bad damage with just a baseball bat. He fought well though, too well for someone of his age. It was clean and precise, but also ruthless. It seemed... practised, like he fought often.' Fury frowned at this. 'And within just a few minutes of him fighting, the creatures had disappeared. Gone.'

'It was just like magic!' Tony interrupted, with the look of a child on Christmas morning on his face.

'Aren't you a scientist?' Clint asked with one eyebrow. 'I can be a man of science and still believe in these things. We're not all as closed-minded as you, Barton,' Tony said, folding his arms. Clint rolled his eyes at Steve, who smirked in response.

'Enough! Stark I don't want to hear another peep out of you unless it's something actually helpful. Got it?' Fury, losing his wits. 'Whatever you say, boss-man,' Tony replied, miming zipping his lips.

Fury sighed again. 'Barton, you said you spoke with him; do you think there's something peculiar about this boy?' Clint nodded slightly. 'There's is something strange about him. I can't say for certain, I just felt there was something...off, with him. The way he showed virtually no fear, or any emotion for that matter when he was on the brink of death; how he talked when I saved him, it all sounded like he really didn't believe he needed any help; like he knew what he was doing; like this was... normal.'

Fury nodded. 'Very well. I would like you to bring him in then. If what you say is true, Barton, and he fights as well as Rodgers says he does, there could be something bad going on that we don't know about.'

Everyone went silent at that, the terrible thoughts of children kidnapped, trained as soldiers, and worse came into their heads.

Fury broke the quiet. 'What is the boys name?' he asked no one in particular. The three exchanged nervous glances, before Steve seemed to lose the silent battle and cleared his throat before saying, 'Um, well, the thing is...' Fury raised an eyebrow. 'Yes?' A pause. 'We don't know his name,' Steve said not really looking Fury in the eye.

Fury tilted his head and slightly squinted at him. 'What do you mean "you don't know his name"? Did you not ask after the fight?'

'We were going to, but that was before we sorta...lost him,' Steve, trailing off at the end.

'You what?!' Fury yelled. 'He disappeared before we even got outside,' Clint jumped in to save Steve.

Fury was gripping the table so hard his knuckles turned white. 'I have to do everything myself.' He turned to Coulson who was also in the room. 'Check his records, facial recognition, I want you to find out everything about him.' And with that, he stormed out.

'Someone's in a mood,' Tony said, taking out a pack of blueberries. Where did he even get them?

'I'll start researching him. Shouldn't take too long,' Phil said walking out as well.

'Don't worry, Cap, I'm sure we'll find him soon,' Clint supplied, as Steve was still stewing over the danger the kid could be in. 'It's just one boy, and S.H.E.I.L.D's got the best agents to track him down. How hard can it be?'

…...

Very hard is the answer. Phil and his team of hackers got to work looking into his file, which one would assume would be easy for a government level secret organisation. One would be wrong.

Because Percy had only just joined, his name and information hadn't been added to the school's files yet, and the fact there was virtually nothing on the guy anywhere else didn't help. They were able to run a facial recognition from a nearby camera that had caught part of the fight, which still wasn't much use as it made them more confused after they watched it.

From what Phil could make out of the very blurry footage, there was a dark-haired boy fighting two dark blurry shapes. Now, usually, with the highly advanced tech they possess, they can clear up low quality footage like this, which is how they were able to decipher the boy's face, but no matter how hard they tried to get a good visual on the creatures, the image wouldn't focus. It's like the camera wasn't picking them up, like they weren't there; like they were... shadows.

With his facial recognition, they were finally able to pull up information on the boy, and what they found was, disturbing to say the least.

What they were expecting to find was his school records, social media accounts, the usual stuff for a teenager. Well, they didn't find any social media accounts, which was peculiar on it's own, but they did still find him online.

Apparently, the boy's name was Perseus Jackson, and he liked to blow up stuff.

He had been kicked out of over 6 schools in 6 years. The reason for his expulsions included flooding an aquarium, causing a school bus to explode, and causing a disruption on a school trip to the museum. Okay what?

Phil breathed out slowly running his hand through his hair, before getting up with the information filed and ready to give to Fury and walking out of his office.

…...

There was a knock on his door. Fury gave a mindless affirmation to enter. A file dropped onto his desk.

Fury blinked before reaching forward and pulling it towards him. It was extremely thin; Fury could already feel his frustration brewing. He opened it up. 2 single sided pages were inside. On the very front page read the basic information you would find on any file:

Name: Perseus Jackson

DOB: August 18th

Age: 17

Address: East 104th and 1st, Upper East Side, Manhattan, New York City.

Mother: Sally Blofis-Jackson. Status-Alive

Father: Unknown. Status-Unknown

First stepfather: Gabe Ugliano (location unknown, presumed deceased)

Second stepfather: Paul Blofis. Stauts-Alive

Eye colour: Green

Hair colour: Black

Ethnicity: Caucasian

That was all. Nothing that would really help them understand much about the guy. Fury turned over to the next page to reveal newspaper clippings with pictures of Perseus; one of him at a younger age looking at the camera, one taken from a distance where he looked to be standing on a beach, and another of him around the age he should be now in what looked to be Rome, again taken from a distance.

There were articles next to these, none very long or detailed. Apparently, this Perseus had had quite an adventurous life for one so young. He had been kidnapped and missing when he was 12, got into a fight with his presumed captor (who mysteriously was never caught or seen after the fight), and then disappeared again for 8 months before being spotted all across Europe with a group of teenagers, and hasn't been seen since. Well, apart from his recent return to school.

Headlines next to these included: '12-year-old boy murders mother?! On the run from the law!' and 'Missing Perseus Jackson fights his captor' and finally 'Perseus Jackson? Possibly seen after missing for almost a year.'

Fury set the file down. His head hurt.

"Is this everything you could find?" he asked Coulson. "Unfortunately, yes, sir. It seems Mr Jackson has been almost completely off the grid for the last few years. And any time his mother was questioned of his absence, all she said was he was at boarding school or a summer camp, but we found no evidence of him attending any schools or youth camps."

Fury frowned, contemplating this. "Alright, bring in the Avengers. We have a teenager to find."

...

He was getting worse.

Will came into the infirmary early the next morning to check on Johnny, and what he found shook him to his core.

Johnny was not in his bed, but Will could hear retching coming from the bathroom.

He dashed in and found him leaning over the toilet. He was ghost white, sweat dripping off him, throwing up viciously, but was still managing to cough in between breaks of heaving, so he could barely suck in a breath.

Will ran over to him and caught him as he leaned back from the toilet, panting heavily. "How long have you been throwing up?" he asked, worry engulfing him. Jhonny took a minute to reply. "An hour, I think."

Whatever blood Will had left in his face, it was completely drained now. "How?! You barely ate yesterday!" Jhonny didn't respond, and Will couldn't blame him, the kid looked like he was about to pass out and- wait he was passing out!

"Johnny hey! Stay with me, okay? Let's get you back to bed." Will basically carried him out of the bathroom, and as gently as he could, lay him down on the bed.

He was shivering from the fever. Will hurried over to get more blankets, water, a bucket and some nectar and ambrosia. They were usually only used for injuries, since demigods never really got sick, but Will was starting to be at a loss of how to help, because that's the thing.

Demigods never get sick.

Will brought the things over and placed a cool cloth on his head. Johnny breathed out a little in contempt. At least something is helping.

A knock sounded at the door. Will glanced back before whispering to Johnny he would be back in a moment as he headed to the door. He couldn't let anyone else enter; if this wasn't a regular illness, it could be contagious. I have to keep Jhonny away from anyone else before-

Will opened the door to a very weak, pale looking boy.

-it spread.