Sy
She woke up slowly, each sense coming back to her one at a time. First was sound, a slow steady beeping, the soft uneven breathing of more than one person, the rustle of sheets under her body. She could hear footsteps moving around, distant and muffled by a barrier and distance; the honking and beeping of cars. She tuned out the extraneous noise, letting it fade into the background. The exercise felt practiced, but she didn't let herself think about it too hard. Memories were hard, instinct was easier.
Then came touch. She was warm for the first time in a long time, a blanket gently tucked around her, a large calloused hand gripping hers tightly. She tried pulling her hand away, but the grip tightened with a mumbled 'Bucky, no.' Something about that statement felt important, so she let the hand hold onto her.
She also registered the distinct lack of metal around her arms and legs. Then came the taste of her mouth without the bitter metallic tang of the hated gag, a kind of fuzzy feeling. Morning breath.
The word floated vaguely through her mind. The sharp smell of antiseptic assaulted her nose.
Slowly she blinked her eyes open to a dim hospital room. Curtains were pulled across the window; allowing only a little of the soft yellow sunlight to filter into the room. Scattered throughout the room was an eclectic collection of sleeping people she recognized. A red headed woman sat with tightly crossed arms in a chair next the door, her head dropped on the shoulder of a man with salt and pepper hair, glasses crooked on his nose. A man in armor and long hair sat on the floor, a dark haired man with equally long hair in a crisp black suit next to him, sitting so close they nearly touched. Both had their heads tipped back, mouths identically slack. They radiated power, the feeling of them pressing against her mind. The pressure was familiar, and almost comforting in its discomfort. A man with a metal arm slept sitting directly across the doorway, like a sentry on guard. The man who had sedated her before was sleeping with his head buried in his arms at the foot of her bed. A blonde man who inspired the warmest feelings inside her slept with his head at her side, one of her hands gripped tightly inside his own.
A soft knock at the door startled her. It also startled the rest of the room, everyone jumping to wakefulness in various stages of defense; the red haired woman and the one armed man the most ready. A sunny young teenager stepped into the room, unperturbed by the weapons that had leapt into hands, ignoring the aggressive stances.
"Good, you're awake. I was getting worried Sy." She watched him warily, before nodding once. The boy smiled again encouragingly at her before turning to the others in her room.
"Alright, everyone out. Doctors orders. Go bother Helen and Clint now." With different levels of reluctance almost everyone filed out. The man holding her hand stayed and so did the one who sedated her. That man didn't feel dangerous anymore, but still didn't think she should trust him after the sneaky needle he'd injected her with. The metal armed one hovered in the doorway silently. She was glad that they stayed, even while she wished for them to leave.
"I'm not leaving her." The one holding her hand insisted. The blonde doctor shook his head.
"Then go wait in the hallway. I will not evaluate her with an audience. You want her to get better? Stop holding me up." The sunny look grew colder. The man opened his mouth to argue again but the other man cut him off.
"Come on Steve. Let's check on Barton and then come back." After a long moment, he squeezed her hand gently before letting go.
"I'll be right back. I promise." She nodded at him and watched them leave. The sunny boy closed the door behind them.
"Be honest. You don't remember any of us do you?" The abrupt question surprised her. So much so that she nodded honestly. The boy sighed, a sad smile on his face.
"Do you remember anything at all?" She shrugged. She remembered feelings, emotions. Faces, a beach and moving fireworks, the smell of strawberries in the heat and the soft cacophony of a hundred piece orchestra playing in perfect harmony. But nothing particularly specific. The boy sat down on the chair the blonde man had vacated.
"My name is Will. I'm your doctor and your friend. My dad is Apollo, and my siblings are praying to him to come down from Olympus to help you. Mr. D tried to help, but you're not really that crazy. You're just more slightly brain damaged. That's my dad's specialty. Does any of this sound familiar?" She thought for a moment and nodded. The names were familiar and the words he said made an odd sort of sense in her mind, even though they probably shouldn't.
"Your name is Syrinx Melos, and your mother is Calliope, leader of the Muses. Still good?" She nodded again. Will smiled happily at her.
"We removed the oxygen mask while you were still sleeping, do you want to try talking?" She started to nod, but stopped. She opened her mouth for the first time in a long time.
"My name is Syrinx?" She rasped carefully. It sounded odd to her. Her name. It wasn't quite right. The boy, Will, grinned at her.
"You prefer Sy. It's good you remember that kind of stuff on your own. That means your memories aren't completely gone. Now that you're awake, I want you to have a little ambrosia ok?" He held out a golden square of something. It was familiar, and her mouth watered. But she took it apprehensively. Something warned her to be careful with the ambrosia. She took a small bite, and instead of the sweet pastry she was expecting to taste, the buttery salty flavor of popcorn flooded her mouth. She took a few more small bites, feeling strength pour into her.
Sy looked over at Will, a small smile fixed on her face.
"Does this mean I'm stuck on bed rest for the foreseeable future?" She complained jokingly. The son of Apollo let out a loud whoop of joy, leaping up from his seat while punching the air.
"Thank Apollo that worked! We've been worried about the memory thing." She laughed at her friend's antics before finishing the square of ambrosia. The floodgates had broken, and memories poured back into her. Names and faces and events flashed through her mind. She experienced all of her pain and happiness and love and sadness and joy. More and more emotions and feelings began flooding through her body and she doubled over with a gasp. She was vaguely aware of a hand rubbing her back soothingly while she laughed and cried and what else, she wasn't sure.
Will settled her back down on the bed carefully as she started to calm down.
"I'll let the others inside in a moment. Sy, the ambrosia will have released everything. You're gonna have to be prepared for some nasty memories to crop up." She nodded through her tears as her mind divided itself into the present and the past.
She flashed through her early years at home with her dad before she ever learned about being a demigod. She remembered learning to play the piano on his lap and practicing violin at the conservatory with Ms. Adelaide while waiting for him to finish teaching. She remembered coloring in the sun at central park and the cancer treatments and the ice cream trips after chemo. She remembered the pain and confusion of coming home from school to find him on the kitchen floor. She remembered arriving at camp, remembered training and making friends. Remembered the overwhelming joy of getting claimed and the crushing disappointment of staying stuck in the rundown and over crowded Hermes cabin.
She remembered the storm that heralded Percy Jackson's arrival, and the battles and war that followed after him. She remembered meeting Nick Fury for the first time in the middle of the conflict against Luke and his armies. Remembered crowding into the elevator to Olympus to see New York City asleep. The end of the war and the first missions she ran for SHIELD blurred together. She remembered the panic of Percy Jackson going missing, begging Fury to look for him with SHIELD resources. Remembered the fear when the gods learned of what SHIELD had learned from her, the relief of her new position. The pain and freedom of gaining her wings. She remembered the Roman threats, border patrols and tense evenings in the mess hall. She remembers seeing Gaea rise from the soil, the terror of the ancient primordial being filling her core. She remembers being thrown from Olympus after Fury betrayed her and the months of wandering and fighting before she returned to New York. She remembered the formation of the Avengers and staying with Steve and concerts and parties with the mortal heroes and then that final snowy day in the safehouse.
Then came the memories of her imprisonment.
She barely registered Will's return to her room, the powerful godly presence in his wake barely distracting her from the barrage of increasingly painful memories. The divine power pressed against her mind, finally dragging her focus away from the torture she was reliving in her mind. Apollo's presence was far more overwhelming than the two norseman ever were. She wasn't sure if it was because she was used to them, or if the Olympian's really were that much more powerful. But as the god settled in next to her, she let the welcoming feeling of oblivion pull her away as the god of medicine got to work.