Percy fights a cliché
*Disclaimer, All rights belong to Marvel Comics and Rick Riordan
*Story is by the fantastic lildrummerboi I'm just reposting with minor edits
Chapter 2
Very quickly Percy began to understand Tony Stark better than any federal dossier could ever explain; Tony Stark was: a raging alcoholic, a genius, a philanderer, a philanthropist, car enthusiast, a narcissist, and above all else, shockingly boring.
It had been the same damn routine for the several months. Wake up, more than likely somewhere in the pigsty he called a basement, drink four cups of coffee, and then settle back into working on… something. Likely, as Percy deduced and later relayed to his superiors, a modification of the suit he had used to escape the Ten-Rings back in January.
Really the entire ordeal had completely disillusioned him to the life of the rich and famous. Pity.
He sighed as he stood up, stretching his arms above his head and enjoying the popping sounds as his kinks worked themselves out, and meandered over to the coffee pot where he poured, what he thought was, his third cup of the day he stopped counting cups days ago.
The coffee pot, along with the rest of the very nice house, was once the property of a drug lord in the late '90s, however when he died, of assuredly accidental circumstances, his land and titles were forfeited over to SHIELD for safekeeping. As such, it had been turned into a surveillance post, one that was outfitted with the all the latest in wiretapping technology. Percy didn't truly understand how most of the equipment did the stuff that it did, but he did know that he could watch Stark wander around in his basement workshop, tinkering and doing whatever it was that eccentric billionaires did in their free time.
Which he now had an obscene amount of, considering his company was currently hemorrhaging money.
Since as soon as he returned Stateside, Stark announced that his company, a weapons manufacturing company with multiple multi-million/billion-dollar contracts with the US government, NATO and the UN, was no longer going to produce weapons. The market was still recovering from the fallout of that particular bombshell.
As he finished doctoring his coffee, he couldn't help but let his mind wander a bit. Now this was possibly the most important thing he learned when he was in training, how to let your mind wander but still stay completely aware of what was going on with your mark. It served him better than any other tool or skill to date.
Letting his thoughts wander, he couldn't help but think about his old… friends and wonder what they were up to these days. Did they still think about him? He had finally gotten to the point where he really only regarded their existence every few weeks or so, but still, had they perhaps forgotten about him? Or were they simply staying true to their end of the agreement? While he certainly wouldn't put it past them to go back on the bargain, he certainly hoped they realized that he deserved at least this much.
After everything he had done, all he had sacrificed, he deserved this. He deserved to be able to choose his own destiny and pave his own path in life. And while he had seemingly given up one set of masters for another, he had been able to choose to do this. He had chosen this life. That was something not even his closest friends had seemed to be able to understand. It didn't matter what he was doing, or from whom he followed orders, the fact that he got to choose this life for himself was enough for him.
It was a concept that had never occurred to him when he was younger, what does free will mean to a twelve-year-old anyway? How is one supposed to know how monumentally their life can be tinkered with and manipulated, all without their choosing? That was the difference, Percy knew the kind of people he was dealing with now, but he went along with it because he felt that it was the right path for him to take, he couldn't say the same thing about when he was a kid.
He swallowed a mouthful of his coffee and turned his attention back towards the monitors; that was enough brooding for one day, even for him. Any more of that and he might as well just change his name to Harry and carve a scar into his forehead, but gods know he has enough scars without giving himself one.
As he refocused on the images in front of him, his eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed. What the hell? Sure, he had seen Stark testing some basic propulsion equipment a month ago, but he didn't think he would be this far along so quickly. On the screen in front Percy was an image of Tony Stark, or rather Tony Stark as he began putting on what looked to be a large suit of shiny silver armor.
Just as he was about to make a call to command, Stark placed the last piece, an intimidating looking faceplate, onto his helmet, before flying, literally flying out of the garage.
"Holy crap…" Percy breathed out, then, acting quickly he jumped at his phone and began dialing. "This is Jackson, designation S37N41, I need immediate TacSat response to an IFO on the coast of Maui. Object is silver, humanoid and is hitting close to Mach 2 in a class 4 residential area. I don't care what you've got to do but get me a live feed of it." There was a brief pause on the other end, with only the sound of typing to fill his ears. "We've got him, connecting you now." "Thank you."
The monitor to his left flickered briefly before a live video feed of Stark's new suit came up. Almost as soon as the video came through, the phone rang again. Knowing who it was going to be he picked it up after the first ring. "Jackson" he said, already knowing who would be on the other end. "You called in an emergency TacSat, what's happened?" Hello Coulson, good to hear from you too, "Seems like Stark finished his pet project, we were right, he was perfecting the model he used in Afghanistan. This thing nearly hit Mach 2 coming out of his garage, honestly I'm-"
He was cut off as something on the screen caught his attention, Stark, who was in the midst of a sharp climb, was beginning to ice over. Percy could see the stabilizers on his gauntlets palms begin to flicker, as the propulsion in his boots stuttered slightly. "What is it Jackson" Coulson's calm, albeit stern voice brought him out of his observations.
"Stark tried to climb too close to orbit, his system is starting to freeze over, I give it maybe thirty seconds before he-dammit looks like I was wrong already" Stark was falling, his suits systems completely had frozen over leaving him vulnerable as he plummeted to the city below. "Do we need to scramble a recovery team?" Coulson asked almost unconcernedly, Percy watched the screen, he could almost see the panic on the face of the billionaire, as he attempted to fix the problem and get his systems rebooted.
It was here that Percy noticed the faint light emanating from the small thrusters on the suits palm. It flickered briefly and faintly but gave the briefest glimmer of life. "No hang on a minute, I think he might pull it out" Percy said, calm as ever, in situations such as these, where months of time, energy and resources were on the line, it was all too easy to potentially lose your cool at the first sign of real trouble, which is what Percy made sure to work extra hard at never losing his.
No sooner had the words left Percy's mouth than had Stark's suit sprung back to life and jettisoned back into the sky, in the direction of Stark's home.
"What's the play here sir?" Percy asked, there weren't many options left at this point and Percy was seriously considering just breaking in and taking the billionaire. There was a pause as Coulson thought, and Percy could swear that he could actually hear the gears turning in the mans head as attempted to piece together a new course of action.
"Do you have a tuxedo?" came Coulson's voice suddenly and sharply. This threw Percy for a loop, "A tuxedo sir?" he asked, uncertain. Where in the hell was this going? "Yes Jackson, a tuxedo. You know sport coat, tie, dress pants, the works. Do you have one?" This last pint was punctuated with aggressively smooth articulation, emphasizing the man's impatience with Percy's impertinent questions "Yes…" Percy answered tentatively, still confused as to where this was going, so he asked as such.
"The third annual benefit dinner for the Fire-Firefighters Family Fund is in two days. Stark will be there. So will we." Now Percy was starting to understand but there was still one large problem with the plan. "What makes you think that he's going to come out? He hasn't left that house for months now." "He'll be there" was the only reply.
BREAK
The more he thought about it, the more Percy was glad he wasn't extravagantly wealthy, or flamboyantly famous. There was just such an overwhelming sense of falsity surrounding the lifestyle, whether it was the overt two-fadedness of it all, or the way every minute if every second of your day was recorded in some fashion, it just wasn't for him.
It also made assignments where he had to attend events of the rich and famous all the more aggravating. At his core, he was a pretty in your face kind of guy. He didn't mince words, and hated to beat around the bush, so having to suck up and kiss the ass of every slimy grease-ball at high society functions typically kept him in a sour mood.
But, he would grit his teeth and bare it like the consummate professional that he was; he could nearly hear Nat's snort at the thought of that. He kept himself for openly rolling his own eyes as he turned away from the live band and made his way to the bar, choosing to instead focus on the task at hand.
He had originally questioned why Coulson wanted two agents for this, when all they were supposedly doing was setting a date for a debriefing with Stark's secretary. That was before Coulson forwarded him the accounts for Stark Industries for the last year.
It seemed as though one Obadiah Stane had been sending an obscene amount of money to offshore bank accounts up until a couple of days after Stark's escape. After that, everything clicked into place, Miss Potts was already familiar with Coulson, he would stand out and provide and excellent distraction as Percy completed the real job. Find Stane, and plant a decryption device on his phone.
The device in question was nearly microscopic, attaching to the fibers in the fingers of skin, all Percy had to do was touch the back of Stane's phone with his right index finger, and that would be able to monitor every little thing that went on his life.
And they say that mortals can't make magic.
Reaching the bar he asked the bartended, a middle-aged balding man in a red vest, "Vodka Martini please, shaken." The bartender nodded and, when he thought Percy wasn't looking, rolled his eyes. Ok so maybe Percy liked to indulge in his inner child once in a while and pretend he was James Bond, he was a damn sight closer to most people and would appreciated not being mocked for it, thank you very much.
Thanking the man for his drink, before paying and tipping generously, SHIELD shockingly paid pretty well, he turned his attention to the rest of gathered guests and the task at hand.
He had arrived fairly early, a habit drilled into him during his training, and began running through scenarios in his head, gauging exactly when and how he would make his play. He considered the classic, bump and shake, where you "accidently" collide with your target before making your play as you hold their attention.
There was also the "Do I know you from somewhere", a classic and a personal favorite, where you play act that you're an old friend or acquaintance and make your move as you have their attention.
The key to any successful mark was to ensure that their attention was anywhere but the thing you're attempting to steal, or in this case plant. The best approaches made use of physical contact; when you're already making physical contact with someone, additional contact, through say their pocket or purse, generally goes more unnoticed.
It didn't hurt that a couple friends had taught him a thing or two about pickpocketing, thank you Stoll twins. He was drawn from his musings by the sound of a commotion outside by the stairs.
Shouting and squealing, and just general euphoria. Crap, he thought to himself; that could only mean one thing. Stark had finally shown up, just as Coulson had said that he would. He moved slowly and carefully to a position on the opposite side of the room, giving him a greater view of the entryway, and waited for his target.
He didn't have to wait too long, as shortly as Tony Stark walked in, a strange, purposeful bounce in his step, in came his business partner as well as Coulson himself. Coulson, the professional that he was, didn't spare Percy a glance, and followed Stark towards the bar.
Percy took this as his cue to move in on Stane, he hadn't actually decided on a real course of action, rather, he was just going to wing, it usually worked out pretty well in the past and nothing too terrible ever happened as a result. The St. Louis Arch obviously didn't count, nor did Mt. Saint Helens for that matter.
So, with no real plan in mind, he strode purposefully over towards where Obadiah Stane was standing, he was watching Stark and Coulson… talked? That could hardly be the word for it, as Stark was very obviously not paying attention to a word coming out of Coulson's mouth. This also meant that Stane was not paying close enough attention to his surroundings, so engrossed in the interaction that was taking place in front of him that he completely missed the way that Percy tripped a passing Senator, Korey or Kelly or some such nonsense, causing him to spill the contents of his drink down the front of Stane's dinner jacket.
Stane spluttered, as a look of sheer disbelief crossed over his features, and it took some moments before he was even able to properly react to what had just happened. Never before had Percy ever seen a person turn such an interesting shade of purple, he almost laughed, now his face matched the stain on his shirt.
As the two men quietly, although not so subtly, began to argue, Percy slinked up to Stane's back and touched his right index finger to the front of the phone he had watched Stane place in his right, pants pocket. He quickly extracted his finger and continued on his way towards the other side of the room.
All in all, his interaction with the men had taken all but a few brief seconds, and now Percy, and SHIELD, would have direct access to every aspect of Stane's life. After all, for a successful 21st century man like Obadiah Stane, your life was in your phone; bank accounts, social security numbers, the names of your mistress', everything.
They would even hold any plots to kill your business partner and longtime friend, but that was just pure speculation on the part of both Percy and SHIELD. Speculation that they were almost certain was fact. However, nothing would be certain until Percy had a chance to pour over these documents for a few days, which meant that he needed to be headed back to the safe house.
Pulling out his phone as he stood, he walked towards the exit as he began a quick search of local doughnut places, ok so maybe he had a little bit of a problem but better doughnuts than heroine right? He was so engrossed in his quest for the delicious pastry treats that he didn't notice the kaleidoscope eyes following from halfway across the room.
And as he began his descent down the stairs and into the late summer night, he never heard the small, delicate gasp, as a young, beautiful, brown haired woman realized just whom the man she had been watching all night was, excusing herself from the affluent members of high society she pulled her phone out of her pocket.
Jason would want to know about this.
BREAK
Percy had never really considered himself an adrenaline junkie, sure he enjoyed combat, thrived in the fight, but he never actively sought out conflict. Ok, so maybe that wasn't entirely true, he did work for a military organization, but still, he generally looked for the most peaceful and non-violent means of solving problems.
That being said, there was a savage, and primal pleasure in gearing up before a fight, the rush you get, the tightening of your chest, and the knowledge that the next few hours may be your last.
That is when you truly feel the most alive. It was also exactly how Percy felt, as he finished adjusting the flak jacket, it had been so long since he had last had to wear one that the new weight settled uneasily on his, he was worried that his balance may be thrown off, but after a few moments he was used to the weight once more.
Percy was preparing for a fight, and a big one. A lot had happened in the weeks following the benefit dinner, a few days after the event, Stark took his newly made armor and eviscerated an entire division of the Ten-Rings in a small town in Afghanistan, Gulmira.
Now the flying metal man was not only on SHIELD's watch list, but the now entire DOD's most especially the United States Air Force as well. To be fair though, had Percy been in Stark's shoes he would have done the exact same thing. Civilian involvement in military deployments was deplorable, and innocent casualties were inexcusable. He had been moments away from calling Coulson and demanding deployment himself had Stark not intervened when he had.
Of course, this also meant that Obadiah Stane, the man that SHIELD had slowly but surely been building a case against, in order to take him and all of his men down, redoubled his efforts in putting down Stark
During his research into the files on Stane's phone, Percy came across something called:
Project: Iron Monger
Further investigation led Percy to believe that Stane was attempting to build his own version of the armor that stark had created, thus leading to Coulson heading to Stark industries to investigate.
He had been about to turn in for the night when he got the frantic call from Coulson for immediate back up. He had called in a threat level 5; that was not good. SHIELD used a tiered threat system starting at 1, cat in a tree, to a 7, which Percy had learned to essentially assume that meant nuclear war. There had never been a threat level higher than 6, and even those were incessantly rare. So for Coulson to call in a 5 meant that some serious badness was going down.
Percy finished strapping the last of his tactical gear into place as the telltale sound of a helicopter made its way directly over the roof of the safe house. Climbing up the rickety escape ladder, which came out of a small hidden panel in the roof of his bedroom, he made his way to the top of the building. Climbing to the top just as the bird touched down, the propellers kicked up dust and twigs into the air, and if you've never been very close to a helicopter then consider yourself lucky cause boy are they loud.
He hustled over as the doors to the side were thrown open, he clambered in and was barely settled in his seat when a pair of headphones were thrust into his hands. "Where are they" he yelled into the microphone, once the headpiece was safely perched on his head. "North side of the building, you'll be inserting from the roof" came the response from the copilot.
"Got an estimate for how many there are?" Percy asked, part of the reason for his needed being there was that Coulson, who had been attempting to get miss Pepper Potts out of the building, had been bogged down by some of Stane's private security force. "Somewhere between 5 and 500" Came the snarky reply. Pilots' man, anybody who worked in the sky was, by definition, an arrogant ass. Wonder where that comes from.
Electing to ignore the pretentious pilot, Percy instead shifted his focus to his kit starting with the pistol strapped to the holster on his upper thigh. Pulling it out he examined the magazine for what felt like the twelfth time, he forgot to do it once when he was fresh out of training and nearly got him and his entire team killed as a result.
Sliding it back into place he checked the mag carriers on his belt making sure that both his additional magazines were in there, and that both were full following up with. At 15 rounds each he had 45 total rounds of 9mm, following up with a check of the small, short barreled riffle with a suppressor on the end strapped to his body checking the suppressor was on properly a round was chambered and the mag was full he proceeded to check the two extras on his plate carrier 90 rounds ready to go, It wasn't a lot but he also didn't want to bring anything more with him he needed to move fast.
He didn't have the luxury of moving slowly rifle, he needed to be able to move hard and fast and hard taking down targets efficiently without stopping. This set up would be his best bet for this kind of op.
His fingers unconsciously moved to his right pocket, and found, as he often did before a combat mission, that he missed the once familiar weight that once sat there.
He couldn't dwell on it for too long however, as soon the copilots voice was in his ear once again. "We're gonna be doing this the hard way unfortunately" he said, as they swerved suddenly to the right, and he saw what looked to be Stark, as well as a much larger and bulkier version of his suit, fly off towards LA, "As you can see, the LZ is too hot for a landing so we're gonna have to do a no-stop-drop."
That was not great, things must have been worse down there than he originally thought if they were too worried to do a proper drop. Biting back a curse he stood, hunched over due to the cramped space of the little compartment, and waited.
The helicopter made a sweeping climb and suddenly they were over the rooftop, he waited just long enough to appreciate the difficulty of the maneuver being made before he jumped, fell about 10 feet and hit the ground in a roll.
Using the momentum from the landing and the roll he launched himself at the siding of the roof, gripping it with both hands before flipping upside-down and reversing his grip so he was now facing away from the building. He allowed himself to fall backward, kicking his feet forward as he fell, effectively shattering the window in front of him.
Letting go of the roof as his feet broke through the window he was able to throw himself into the building, rolling again as he hit the ground before shooting upright and sprinting forward, towards the sound of gunfire. He wasn't thinking so much as he was acting and allowing his body to react as he turned sharply left and jumped over a banister towards the ground bellow.
His battle-born instincts were second to none and had never let him down before, he was at his best when he allowed his body to simply act to the oncoming world around him rather than rationalizing and analyzing every move. He'd driven some people pretty crazy with the thought process before.
Landing in a crouch before taking off again he veered hard to the right as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, three shadows moving quickly in the direction of the shooting. He simply let experience take over from there as blitzed the unsuspecting the three men in dark suits and earpieces, sub-machine guns at the ready.
Before the first man could even acknowledge Percy's existence, Percy had leveled him with a hard kick that sent the man and his shattered ribcage sprawling in the other direction. Percy the grabbed the shocked second man by the tie and pulled down hunching both himself and his victim over into a crouch as bullets whizzed through the air in the space Percy's head had previously vacated. Throwing a hard punch to the knee of the ducking man that likely shattered his kneecap, causing the man to cry out in pain, Percy then stood up, twisting as he did so and twisting the man's tie around his neck like a noose, choking him. As he did this he pulled his pistol out of his holster and shot twice in the direction of the third man. Both bullets found their target and the man collapsed to the floor, dead. Finally he put the barrel of the weapon in the back of the wounded man he was holding and fired twice more. Ending his life as well.
The encounter had taken no more than a few seconds. Two men dead, and another critically hurt before you would even be able to process what you had seen.
He continued moving, holstering his pistol and bringing up his riffle, hardly breaking stride as he weaved right and left in an effort to avoid needless confrontation. He was forced to take cover however when a group of men came bearing down on him, weapons blazing, from around a corner.
Hiding behind his makeshift cover, a small concrete pillar that he had to physically contort himself in order to get behind, he realized he only had one real option if he was looking to get to Coulson and Potts as quickly as possible. Screwing his eyes shut, and focusing on a mental image of the hallway ahead of him, a tricky thing to do when bullets are whizzing by your head thank you very much, and began to force his will out, reaching across the hallway and filling every available space.
He could feel the power flowing through him now, the familiar tingle that started at the base of his neck and spread like a wildfire throughout the rest of his being. Picturing in his head exactly what he wished, he extended his will outwards once again, more forcefully this time and with a very different purpose.
Before they could even turn around, a large eight foot tendril of water materialized out of the air behind the armed men, and with a swing of his arm the tendril slapped at the men with force of a semi, sending them careening through the air, before colliding with the adjacent wall and crumpling to the crowd, broken.
Wasting no time, Percy sprung to his feet and bounded down the hall once more. Coming to an arched doorway near the end of a particularly long corridor, the sound of gunfire was at its loudest. It was coming from the room before Percy. Focusing his will once more on the ceiling of the building, he formed a small reflective pool on its surface, and quickly surveyed the room.
There were nine targets in total, all with their backs facing away from him, he would have a clear line on at least four of them before he would need to seek additional cover. Additionally, their attention is so focused on the people in the room ahead of them that any reaction to flanking fire would take several seconds to yield any sort of a response. Seconds that he fully intended utilize in his benefit.
Again, normally Percy wasn't much of a "planning" guy, but when hostages or civilians were involved then it was a very different kind of game.
Steeling himself, and doing a quick gear check his rifle full and ready to go and quick count of the bullets left in his pistol, eleven plus one in the chamber, he turned around and burst into the room at full speed.
There were two directly in front of him the he dropped immediately with four quick alternating shots in the back. Leaping over one of the slouching bodies, he struck the third man as he began to turn around. Percy then slammed him in the throat with the barrel of his gun before unloading a round directly into the man's forehead. Percy ignored the spray of gore that made its way onto his chest and face as he , pulled the body of the third man in front of him, as he did so, a spray of gunfire erupted into the dead man's back. With a mighty push, he launched the body at the source of the shooting, rolling into a crouch and pulling his rifle up . As the fourth man tried to leap out of the way he was met with three more rounds from Percy's rifle he dropped to the floor in a heap. He then stood up, maintaining a slight hunch and moved toward the nearest cover, an overturned cafeteria table; he hadn't even realized the room that he had entered was the building cafeteria. Sliding right, to the end of the table he poked his around horizontally and fired off a shot at the legs of a man hustling across the room for cover. The round found its mark and the man collapsed in a yelp of both surprise and pain, although he wasn't feeling either for much longer as Percy then fired another round into the man and he went limp.
Forming another reflection on the ceiling he located the remaining four targets, they were spread smartly across the room, no more than at least ten feet between two of them, which made things a little more complicated but not impossible. Taking a moment he also managed to locate Potts and Coulson, they were on the opposite side of the room, Coulson had his jacket off and a red smear on his usually impeccably white shirt indicated that he'd been hit, but it looked relatively minor all things considered.
Coulson, having clearly been looking for the new source of the shooting, located the reflecting pool and gave Percy a knowing nod. Percy grinned, well that certainly made things significantly easier, Percy had just been given permission to let loose a little bit.
Cracking his neck slightly, he began to focus his will on the room at large, specifically on the armed men, it had been a while since he'd attempted this, but he was still pretty confident that he could do it. He just couldn't afford to lose concentration for even a second, because it could most certainly mean his own death. With the image of the backs of each of the four men firmly ingrained in his mind's eye he extended his will and allowed himself to be encompassed by a swirl of water.
In the span of less than it takes to breathe, Percy was able to use the water in the air to disappear and reappear behind each of the men, shooting each one twice in the back, before finally appearing in a rush of bubbles behind Coulson and Potts.
Fixing a crooked little smile on his face he turned to the now very startled looking Pepper Potts and said,
"Hello there ma'am, I'm Agent Jackson and I'll be rescuing you today"
Turning to Coulson Percy starts to speak "we need to…"
"To leave yes, we will be leaving" gesturing to him and Potts "you however need to stop Stane before he kills Stark and levels the city in the process."
"They're flying"
"An excellent observation"
"I can't fly"
"I'm aware of that, yes"
"So what exactly do you expect me to do about it?"
"You're creative, you'll figure something out."
"… I think I hate you."
"No, you don't."
Percy proceeds to escort Potts and Coulson to an exit Coulson taking his rifle in the prosses.
Percy glared at the quickly departing vehicle and felt the beginning of a headache gnaw at his temple. " You're creative, you'll figure something out. Jerk" He mocked petulantly under his breathe, as he turned away and faced the battle raging in the sky.
How in all hell was he going to help Stark end this stupid fight when he was nearly 6 stories above him in the clouds? He stretched his arms a little and cracked his neck, he needed loosen up a little, he'd been wound up tighter than a spring since the drop and he figured he ought to be looser for the upcoming conflict.
Deciding that he had wasted enough time and couldn't in good conscience put it off any longer, he ran back into the building, ignoring the minor destruction he and Coulson had caused along the way, and effectively retraced his steps until he reached a staircase leading his to the roof of the complex.
Stopping just underneath the flying metal monsters he tried to analyze them as best he could from where he stood. Contrary to popular belief, Percy wasn't stupid. Oblivious? Yes, irrational? Absolutely, stubborn? Like a mule, but stupid? No, he just didn't have the patience typically for long, drawn out battle plans that laid out every minute detail. He didn't have the attention span for that. He was, however, singularly gifted in generating on the spot and impromptu matters of strategic genius. He only hoped that he would be able to better utilize those assets before Stark got himself killed.
He quickly ruled out trying to meet them on their level, even if he could somehow get up to that altitude, not only would he be significantly drained, as any action used to get him that high would particularly draining even for him, but he would also be unable to maneuver in the ways that the two in the clouds were clearly able to.
Additionally, he very clearly lacked the firepower and long-range energy attacks to even put up a fight with them on their turf.
Thus, he was going to have to bring the fight to him if he could.
Just as he was beginning to contemplate manipulating the water in the clouds to force them lower and lower something… unusual happened. Stark stopped pressing the attack, turned, and launched straight up into the atmosphere, with Stane hot on his trail.
It didn't take long for Percy to understand exactly what Stark was attempting to do, remembering what had happened a few weeks prior. Stark was banking on Stane falling prey to the same miscalculation he had made and therefore would not have made his suit resistant to the incredibly low temperatures of higher altitudes.
Percy's theory was proven right, a scant few seconds later as Stane and his suit shut down and began falling, hard and fast, back down to earth. Percy watched as the suit fell with a tremendous THUD, onto the concrete below, and as Stark landed a few hundred feet away from him on the roof, he couldn't help the thought that came to the forefront of his mind.
That had been entirely too easy. In his experience, situations with what he taken to calling "big bads", or the guys that seemed to be the real life equivalent to final boss', never ever in the history of literally ever, ended as easily as that.
And sure enough, as soon as Percy began to advance towards Stark, who seemed to be talking to someone, Stane's enormous doppelganger erupted onto the roof behind Stark.
Percy didn't even have time to process what he was doing, his body merely reacted, as Stane's fist raised to strike at Stark, a massive wall of water erupted around the gigantic frame of Stane's suit. The wall turned and curved around the suit before anyone could react and soon encapsulated Stane in a giant ball of water.
Stark rounded on Percy his eyes wide, a dribble of blood coming from the corner of his mouth, "Who the hell are you?" he shouted, as he shifted his feet into a defensive stance and readied himself against a new potential opponent. If he hadn't been straining so much to keep Stane contained, as he was continuously smashing against his watery prison in the hopes of breaking free, then Percy would have snarked back a reply.
However even he knew that now was not the time for witty banter, "Introductions later; plan now!" he barked over to Stark, "All you need to know is I'm a friend of Agent Coulson's, is there any way to break through that armor?" he shouted, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow. Stark paused, likely running through his options and trying to decide if he could trust this random stranger or not, looking back at Stane, who was getting closer and closer to breaking free, he made up his mind.
"No, unless you're little water trick can bust through 12 inches of tungsten then we're not breaking through at any point." Damn, that sucked. Percy had hoped, after seeing the obvious circular power generator looking thing on the center of his chest, that this would have simply followed videogame logic and that was the weak point. "Alright, any other bright ideas then genius?" he shouted over, Stark once again, adopted a look of contemplation, it was the same look Percy had seen for months as Stark built the suit.
Stark grimaced, and said slowly "He can't hear us in that can he?" "No, but if you don't come up with something in the next 30 seconds or so he's going to break free and it's not going to matter one way or another, what's your plan?" Stark hesitated again, annoyingly out of character for someone Percy knew always-just spoke without thinking, he ignored the blatant irony of that statement. "There's an arc reactor in the basement, it's what powers the suits, if we can overload the reactor we can blast through the roof, if one of us can get to the center console and open up all of the circuits we can use the master bypass to overload the entire system and fry everything up here."
Ok that was a pretty solid play if you overlooked just one obvious flaw, "I'm guessing that whoever stays up here to keep the Iron-Giant here busy likely gets fried too?" Stark just nodded. Ok, not great, but Percy could feel his control starting to slip, and the ball starting to fracture, so he quickly he made up his mind.
"Get down there and cook this goose then, I'll keep him busy, long enough for you to fry him." Stark looked like he wanted to comment, like he wanted to protest the action, but Percy knew that he was a coldly logical man, he clearly understood what needed to happen here and he seemed to understand that Percy was not going to budge in his decision.
So instead he merely nodded, a glimmer of respect and gratefulness in his eyes to the man he didn't even know the name of, who was willing to give up his life for his. Sparing one last look at his one-time friend, Stark closed his helmet and dropped down to the floor below.
Once Stark was out of sight, Percy dropped the ball and dove behind a concrete pillar to his right, Stane's back was to him so he would have a moment to catch his breath before Stane came after him.
A normal person, Percy reasoned, would probably not be this calm in this situation, this calm in the face of their own untimely demise. They would likely panic, or even freeze up and shut down completely. Percy was not most people. He had stared the abyss in the face and not been the one to blink; he had cheated the boatman out of his soul one too many times. It helped that he was about twice as durable as even the toughest mortals, he was pretty confident in his ability to come out of this situation relatively alive.
" I don't know who the hell you are " came Stane's robotic voice, effectively bringing Percy out of his reverie, " But you're not going to live long enough to regret that. " Percy couldn't stop himself, "Oh my gods, could you be any more of a cliché?" Damn him and his big freaking mouth.
Diving out of the way as a large metal fist came raining down on where he had been sitting moments before, he fell into a roll and bounced back up into a crouch, before pushing off into a brief sprint and jumping as hard as he could onto the arm of the giant as it was raising its hand back up. Using his momentum from the jump, he swung his legs and propelled himself over the head of the suit. As he was coming down, he wrapped his arms around the head of Stane and pulled with all his might and slammed him into the ground. Not wasting anytime, he cartwheeled over Stane's head, so he was sitting on the man's stomach. Willing water to form on his knuckles, in a weird combination of water mixed martial artists gloves he delivered two punches as, as hard as he could throw, right into the faceplate.
He wasn't given time to celebrate his brief victory however, as a giant hand smacked right into open side, launching Percy through the air and skidding across the ground before coming to a stop. " Di Immortales" he muttered under breath, spitting out a gob of blood as he did so. The ribs. Why was it always the gods be thrice damned ribs? Did bad guys do it intentionally? 'Cause it was sure starting to seem, and dammit did it feel like it too, that they were doing it intentionally.
Through his pain-clouded vision, he could see Stane slowly, and to Percy's minor and savage pleasure, wobbly get back to his feet. Stane looked to Percy before slowly making his way over, just as he was about to try and get up and move out of the way of the iron-clad juggernaut, the rocket propelled boots jumped to life and Stane flew right at him before Percy's battered body could fully process what was happening.
Percy couldn't stop the shout of pain as a massive metal gauntlet closed around his sternum, barely managing to keep his right arm free. Stane's voice growled out as he brought Percy up to his face. " I will make you suffer for that, whelp." It was a stupid plan, one that he wasn't even sure would work, but he had made it this far in life on blind faith and sheer dumb luck, so he went for it.
"You do realize" he began, his voice straining as he struggled to breathe, and he reached his free hand out hoping to keep Stane's attention long enough to get this done, "That you have hit every check on the list of 'overused villain clichés' right? Like, I feel very confident in saying that the only way you could be any more of a stereotype, would be if you actively sat in throne-y chair and cackled evilly over your villainous plots and stroked a pure white cat." He paused briefly, "You don't, right?"
As he was talking he subtly began manipulating the water in the air inside Stane's helmet, willing it to get hotter and hotter. He was hoping that he would be able to turn the inside of the helmet into the single most intense sauna of all time.
He succeeded.
With a cry of agony, the metal arm that was enclosed around Percy suddenly let go and Percy collapsed to his knees as he attempted to collect himself. Meanwhile, Stane, who had stumbled back several paces and was no standing directly in front of a large circular window that looked down onto the large arc reactor in the room below Stane's suit hissed and Percy could hear the turning of gears as the chest plate rose up and uncovered the man underneath.
His face was bright red and beginning to blister from the severe heat he had been subjected to, blood was flowing smoothly from a massive cut in the side of his forehead as well as what looked to be a severely broken nose. His right eye was already swelling shut, and his lip was busted.
Percy, mustering his remaining strength, jumped to his feet and pumped his legs as fast as could, reaching the titan in only a few strides, when he was right on top of him, Percy jumped and kicked his legs out in front of his body, smashing into the videogame weak spot on the chest of the armor. He watched, as he fell to the ground again, as Stane stumbled, his chest plate cracked from the force of the kick, and stepped right onto the window, which shattered under the sheer weight of the juggernaut. With a cry of surprise Stane, who's eyes were closed, both from the blood flowing into his eye and the heat all but welding them shut and fell through the roof. At the last moment he threw an arm out in the hopes of holding onto the side of the roof, but it collapsed under him, and Stane fell, with horrified shriek, right into the arc reactor, just as it was overloaded, shooting a beam of energy right into the sky.
The force of the subsequent shockwave launched Percy into the air, slamming him into the side of an air conditioning unit on the other side of the rooftop. He covered his eyes, as the light from the energy beam was nearly blinding and stayed like that for several moments until the last of the energy dissipated into the starry night, and as rolled over, his arms and legs spread eagle on the roof of the building, he took in the sudden, and deafening silence that permeated the area.
The encounter had not lasted long, but he had used a tremendous amount of power tonight and he was exhausted, which is why when he felt his eyelids suddenly become way too heavy, and the ground all too comfortable, he didn't fight it, he embraced the coming darkness and allowed it to swallow him whole.
AN this chapter has by far the most changes if you have any comments or questions please comment here or come to The Emerald Library Discord server
AN 2: For any who are curious Percy is using a Glock 19 and a Sig Sauer MCX with an Eotech red dot
