And I have returned! I believe a thank you is in order.

Thank you.

Hooo, I'm glad to get that off my shoulders.

…

Chapter 8 – Still No Escape

"Offended the gods? Perseus, you terrify them."

Perseus Jackson slurped his blue smoothie as he scrutinized the menu in his hand. Disappointment clawed deeper the further he read down the single page. This was a cafe, why wouldn't they sell blue cake? Who wouldn't want blue cake? It doesn't even have to be a birthday cake despite the occasion, just any old blue form of desert would do.

Sighing, the young man slapped the menu back down on the tabletop and cradled his chin in his palm, tapping his finger on the clean surface of the table. Outside the glass walls of the café, New York was at her busiest. Dozens of pedestrians passed by the windows, some in suits, others in dresses, most in just ordinary, everyday summer clothes.

It was August 18th. Percy is now twenty-four.

A little girl pranced into the store with a jingle of the entrance bell right before her mother. Percy watched as the near identical mother and daughter chatted away.

"Mommy, can I have a coffee like you?" The little girl rocked back on her heels and sported the most adorable pleading look, her dark curls swaying.

The mother smiled, more to herself then to her child, "Abby, hon, coffee is for grownups. " She crouched down before her young daughter as Abby began to pout, "Listen, you can pick anything else here, okay? It is your birthday, my little girl." The young mother booped her daughter's nose with a wide smile.

Percy watched, amused, as Abby made a big show on choosing which drink she wanted, reading each name aloud and sounding out the syllables. He bowed his head and rubbed his hands together, eyes on his half-filled blue smoothie.

It had been three months since he'd been captured by SHIELD. Three months since he bent the very ocean to his will and saved three hundred lives. Three months since he started running again.

His hands were shaking.

Percy grimaced and sat up straight, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. They tended to do that, his hands. Shake with the effort to hold back some terrible, nameless force. A vehement darkness, gnawing and gnawing and gnawing away. Feasting.

"That one!"

Percy actually jumped in response to the volume of the proclamation. His hands flying from his pockets, he leveled a golden pen at the girl, hand shaking violently.

"Ooooh my God- I am so sorry!" The mother jerked back her daughter as she apologized profusely, her hands on the oblivious Abby's shoulders. "I'm sorry, sir, she-she can be a handful."

Percy cleared his throat and lowered his pen onto the tabletop. "Uhhh," He coughed, "Its fine. I'm sorry for threatening your kid with a, eh… a pen." He chuckled sheepishly, looking up at the young woman.

Her hair was dark and pulled back into a messy bun, some strands loose to tumble around and frame her tan, round face. She was dressed in casual summer clothes, along with her young daughter, whose eyes were still on the smoothie.

"I want that, mommy," the girl said, more subdued than before, yet still excited.

The young mother looked down at the blue smoothie sitting atop his table. "I don't know, Abby. It looks like it has too much coloring to be…"

Too much coloring to be healthy. Came Perseus' amused thought.

"I, um, special order." He lifted the drink slightly and smirked down at the little girl. "It's your birthday, isn't it?"

Abby gasped, looking at her mother, then back to Percy. "How did you know?" Her once lurid voice became a hissed whisper.

The Exiled Prince leaned in and whispered in return, conspiratorially. "You have that look in your eyes. A little twinkle."

That and her mother said so just a minute before. However, Percy found no heart in letting Abby in on this fact, as she was now shaking with excitement.

"Mommy, I think he's a wizard!" She hissed, tugging on the young mother's sleeve.

Percy laughed. This girl was definitely being raised the right way. So much wonder filled her eyes, an exultant curiosity that only children could cherish, and only adults could miss. The prince, he was forced to grow up at age 12, when he killed the Minotaur and humiliated Ares. He had to take on responsibilities most teenagers and adults would have nightmares over. Growing up too early, that isn't so healthy for the mind. Thankfully, Perseus had others to help him through his journey to adulthood. Leo Valdez used to joke that he was aspiring to be a professional child when he grew up. That always cracked the gang up.

"Yes, and as we all know, wizards adore berry-blue smoothies," The mother smoothly played along, her smile white and wide. "Come on, Abby. Let's get something blue."

The young woman lead her elated daughter back to the counter, where which they ordered a blueberry smoothie with extra coloring. From there, Abby dragged her mother back to the lone prince and filled the vacant seats. The mother was obviously anxious about her daughter adoring a stranger so, but she kept her composure nonetheless.

Percy's hands were still. He furrowed his brow, resting both his hands on the table, eyes fixated. Nothing. The evil jitters were gone, for the time being.

"So," the young woman stirred her coffee with a small plastic spoon, "Was that pen you pointed at my daughter a wand, perchance?" Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

It was then that Percy realized how pretty the mother was. The young man blinked before mentally beating his moronic brain. She's freaking married.

No, she wasn't. No rings on her fingers. As a matter of fact, she wore no jewelry at all, not even makeup. Percy cleared his throat and took a long sip of his smoothie.

"Ehrm, yeah. Sorry about that."

"What magic can you do?" Abby had already forgotten about her drink as he stared up at the young man with the largest pair of sapphire eyes.

"Well, let's see." The Exiled Prince set down his smoothie, "I can control water however I want, talk to sea animals, and pretty much anything to do with water."

This was amusing.

More so than the woman across from him could imagine.

The blender for Abby's custom smoothie ended, and the employee dumped the contents into a medium-sized cup, sticking a straw into the foaming top.

"Interesting…" The young mother wore an expression that could easily be described as a 'thinking face'. She leaned forward in her seat, her daughter squealing as she got up to retrieve her drink.

"Mara Day," the mother smiled politely and held out here hand with an air of formality, "You're good with kids. More accurately, my kid."

"Perry Johnson."

…

"A mister Percy Jackson." Detective Robin Bullock scoffed to himself as he flipped through the bio files, skimming a highlighted sentence here and there. "Clearly the name of a hardened criminal."

"Are you questioning SHIELD Intel, detective?" Police Lieutenant Toni Bullock leaned back in the shotgun seat of the police cruiser they shared, biting deep into her Uncle Lenny's Prize Burrito, showing no restraint.

"I'm questioning the state of his mother's sanity when she gave him that name." Detective Bullock scoffed once again, flipping a page to narrow his keen, gray eyes on a picture.

Tall, maybe 6-foot-2. Hair long and all wavy-like, impractical in combat situations. Guy's got some muscle, but not enough to slow him down. Still, looks as if he could lift a car, the way he carries himself.

"No mug shots. Means they haven't caught their Percy yet." The detective flipped the next page.

"Their Percy?" Lieutenant Bullock spoke with her mouth full, "That doesn't sound like the man I married."

"The man you married's on duty, Lieutenant."

"And behind that shiny badge I have the jurisdiction to suspend said married-man." Another bite was taken after the playful jab.

Robin withdrew his nose from the files to give his wife a side-long, albeit unamused, glance. "Eat your burrito."

The Lieutenant lifted both hands and shoulders, eyes widening defensive as if to say: What does it look like I've been doing?

…

Percy Jackson regretted the lie as soon as it passed through his lips. This is necessary. She is nobody. Soon, you'll be away, running.

Always running.

"Perry Johnson, hm?" Mara took a sip of her coffee, "I know somebody named Perry. But he isn't a wonder water wizard."

The prince chuckled uncomfortably, taking an uneasy sip of his drink.

"He's a demigod."

The prince choked on his drink. Coughing, he pounded on his chest as blue spittle splattered over his chin and table-top. "Uhh…" He cleared his throat, "excuse me?"

By this time Abby was bouncing her way back to the table, her blue drink sloshing within the cup. Thankfully, there was a sealed lid. She looked like her mother, Percy noted. Her hair was also a dark brown streaked with auburn, which clashed strikingly against suntanned skin. Her eyes were a bright blue, almost a piercing sapphire.

Percy wiped his face, blinking.

"A demigod?" Mara gave the prince a funny look, "Children of the gods, highly spoken of in Greek mythology. I find them… somewhat like the primeval Avengers…" She watched as a flustered Jackson dabbed at the speckles of blue smoothie over the table with a napkin. "Lemme guess, not much of a mythology junkie?"

Abby's eyes laughed and she slurped at the straw of her drink. For once, she was quiet, finding it nice that her mother was socializing. She barely talks to any other adults.

"It looks like you are." The Exiled Prince cleared his throat, blinked, then scrambled for the home plate, "Imeantthatinagoodway."

Mara laughed, hazel eyes brimming with joyous amusement, "Oooooh, Mr. Johnson. You have one spanking history with mythology. What- did the Minotaur take your mother?"

Percy stared, his mouth a clear vacancy for any passing flies.

"That one was a quip," Mara smiled, reaching across the table and grabbing his hand, which was shaking, "Not serious… are you okay?"

"Yeah…" Percy looked down at the slender hand over his. Normally, his intuitive sense warned him of danger, but this time his sense told him that there was none. That he was safe, even. When was the last time he was safe?

And why were his hands shaking?

…

"I just don't think it's safe, this case. Look- this guy has been on the road for a widecrack of years. Probably knows his way around an' stuff." The detective looked across the street as a Dalmatian lifted a back leg to pee openly on a scarlet-red fire hydrant. His owner, a middle-aged woman, rolled back on the balls of her feet in embarrassment as tourists paused to snap photos.

"When did you ever care about safe, Robin?" The lieutenant had finished her burrito. Now, her eyes were on her husband.

"When did SHIELD ever drop a manhunt at contact? Intel says they had him, eh? Well it looks the other way around to me. They're scared of this guy, and I ain't gettin' involved."

…

"Mommy writes stories." Abby finished her drink with a dramatic slurp, eyes almost crossing with the sugary delight.

Mara cringed, looking over at her daughter. "Ooooh how I will regret that in an hour. Hon, for future reference, use those puppy eyes of yours to aspire me to do good things. Not to buy you a sea of sugar and a fate-bound future of pain, for my sake."

She talks likes she knows her way around the English language.

Abby stared at her mother blankly.

"No more blue smoothies," Percy clarified for her.

"Well," Mara clapped her hands together, "It was nice meeting you, Perry. But it's best we head off before we miss the bus for Manhattan. Abby and I are heading down to see some relatives."

"Hm? Oh, right." Percy stood, scooting his chair back and tossing his empty smoothie into the trash absently. His eyes were on the stunning young woman before him. Abby was standing already. "Wait, so you're a writer? An actual, professional writer?"

Mara smiled, laughing. "Goodness, no. Well, yeah. Sort of."

"YES!" Abby jumped, bumping into her mother. "But nobody wants to help with purbishing."

"Purbishing?"

"Publishing." Mara laughed again. She looked nice, laughing. Her teeth were white, and her smile was just so… so…

Beautiful.

"You have no editors, no publishers?" The prince wasn't going to feign knowledge on the subject. His familiarities were toned on… other things.

"Well, it's complicated." Mara sighed, shrugging her shoulders, "I have editors, publishers. But they don't really like the idea of new ideas."

Percy blinked. "Isn't that the point of writing a story?"

"Ironic, isn't it?" The young mother smiled sardonically, ruffling her daughter's hair. "It was nice meeting you, Perry."

Your name is Percy. Just tell her; your name is Percy!

Can I truly be that selfish?

"Um, look… Mara… I…"

Two masked figures were approaching the café, the wide windows giving a clear view of the world outside. Percy's words died on his tongue. This wasn't a completely unusual sight in the streets of New York. Street performers often walked about, seeking new locations to put on a show. But these weren't street performers.

"Mara grab Abby and hide in the back of the building."

The mother blinked, "What?"

"Everyone!" Percy waved his arms, "Go! Call 911! Ca-,"

The windows shattered as a wave of death-howling projectiles came in solid impact with the barrier. Percy grabbed a baffled, elderly man and lunged over the counter, ducking behind it. Employees screamed, one fumbled for the button under the counter that would sound the silent alarm. Her palm slapped it.

"We have come for Perseus Jackson!"

…

"Gunfire reported down Princeton Avenue, 1132. Somebdoy sounded the silent alarm"

"That's the café." Detective Bullock turned the keys in the ignition of the police cruiser, pulling from the alleyway.

Lieutenant Toni flipped on the sirens, and on they wailed as the cruiser screeched down the road.

"Be safe." The detective said, eyes on the road, jaw clenched.

"That's too much to ask, sweetie." The lieutenant checked the straps of her bullet-proof vest. "Life's dangerous."

…

How did they find me? Who are they?

Percy crouched behind the counter. The employee next to him, the one who pushed the silent alarm, whimpered.

"We know you're back there, Jackson." The voice was laced with a Russian accent, "Hiding behind the bodies of innocents. Where is your honor?"

He closed his eyes. Hands shaking, he squeezed them shut. He couldn't let the power out. He vowed never to use it, never to give in. Never to indulge.

Sirens. They were calling in the background, ever approaching the scene. They would not make it in time.

"We intend to have you before the ignorant enforcers decide to trash our mission."

Gunfire relayed.

Employees and civilians alike screamed as the contents upon the counter was torn to shreds by dozens, if not hundreds, of bullets.

Let me out.

The world blurred. It was like a veil of haze descended upon the world around him. Everything, every person, every shard of glass, every shred of shrapnel, every infinitesimal molecule simply slowed.

Let me out, Perseus.

The Exiled Prince stood, slowly turning to face… it. And it was terrible.

The two gunmen stood there a few feet apart, legs outspread as their assault rifles were caught mid-blaze. Percy saw everything as they slowed. Froze. Remained in absence of movement.

Between the two gunmen stood a being, a mere figure in the shape of a slender man. This black enigma stood, tall and lithe, and somehow, even without a face, Percy knew this darkness was staring directly at him, right into his eyes.

You can save them with my help. Nobody has to die. Just let me out, let me breathe.

Its voice was a thousand resounded voices, male and female, elderly and young. It was as though the dead were speaking to him in perfection symmetry.

"You're killing me." His hands clenched into fists.

Time is killing everything. You do not fear death, you welcome it, Perseus.

Before, back in the helicarrier, Percy had welcomed the power that had returned to him. But soon, after a few days, he realized that this power, this force, was attached to it.

Turn around.

Percy did so.

Behind him, a ways across the area behind the counter and where the store led back into the storage area, a little girl was peaking around the threshold. Her innocent, sapphire eyes were wide and frightful, fixated upon the attackers. Her mother was trying to pull her back. She was bleeding; streaks of blood ran down the side of her face. She had been hit badly by some shrapnel.

"Abby, Mara."

You can save them.

"They don't deserve this..."

But only with my help.

"… I do."

The Exiled Prince spun back around to face the dark anomaly, and somehow, looking into that infinitely black hole of a face, he knew this thing was smiling.

This is who you are, Perseus. Do not fight it. You are a maelstrom, a storm, an exploding nebula, a dying star. Do not resist that of which defines you.

Percy's trembling, twitching fingers stilled. The world around him was speeding back up. With a snarl, the black thing darted forth, rushing into the prince's chest.

The gunfire stopped. Both men lowered their guns as they spied their target.

"We knew you would come around."

"You…" The prince's breathing became hyped with adrenaline. He could feel the water under the building, churning and boiling with his presence. His sea-green eyes burned a violet hue, filled to the very brim with rage. "I have a bone to pick with you."

…

The blazing sirens of the police cruiser wailed as the vehicle swung around the corner. Traffic was thick, though some cars did their best to pull over to make way.

Robin Bullock cursed, opening his door, his hand grasping his sidearm. Toni was on his heels as they both stepped onto the sidewalk, dashing. The café was only a few blocks away.

Both officers ducked on instinct as the report of an assault rifle split eardrums, and the shattering of a car's windows ensued. The woman inside was a definite fatality. Toni and Robin Bullock took cover behind the damaged car, the detective shouting into his radio.

"There's more of them!" Toni peaked over the hood of the car.

"Backup needed on Princeton Avenue! Come in hot, unknown number of hostiles!"

Shots were traded.

Robin could see the café from where they took cover. He could see the damage within the small building. A possible hostage situation? SWAT might need to get their hands dirty in this one.

…

As soon as his finger squeezed the trigger, assault rifle aimed at Jackson, Yuri knew that he had screwed up.

HYDRA Intelligence had specifically told him that directly affronting the man would be his biggest mistake. Cheers to ambition, one would suppose.

Perseus vanished. Rather, he melted into a puddle of water, and said puddle of water shot forth like a hurtling missile and slammed directly into the Russian mercenary, shattering bones. Yuri slammed into the opposite wall, slumping to the floor, coughing blood.

Before the second mercenary could recover from witnessing his partner's demise, the puddle swiped his feet from under him. The masked Russian groaned as his temple promptly struck the floor. Vision blurring, he rolled aside just as the assailing puddle of violent water slammed into the ground just where he had been laying, cracking the marble.

Percy Jackson grew back into his human form, glaring down at the dumbfounded man on the ground before him. Outside, more gunfire was heard. Shouting, cursing, the shattering of glass and life.

"Tell your friends," The Exiled Prince grasped the man by his bullet proof vest and hoisted him up with ease, toes barely scraping the floor, "I'm not interested in a visit."

He then tossed the man up so that he slammed into the ceiling, before falling back down limply to the ground, motionless.

The prince turned around, and faced the little girl standing alone amidst the destruction of what was the café. She looked upon him with awe, a tall and powerful man, his eyes blazing with an unnamed force the beckoned undeterminable rage. Unfathomable depths.

Mara was on the ground, unconscious. This was best. If she were to babble to the authorities, she might have been taken to a psychiatric ward, or to some dark room for questioning, further more putting those hunting him in more danger.

…

People ran and screamed.

There were eight other gunmen in all defending the café. Even 5 minute into this intense gunfight, Detective bullock still couldn't tell if they were dealing with a hostage situation. Their assailants were trained killers, mercenaries. They had already downed two brave officers, provoking the NYPD's wrath.

Princeton Avenue was a battleground. Plumes of smoke billowed from upturned cars. Other vehicles were on fire, shattering glass and debris littered the ground, including the occasional body of an innocent. Things haven't been this bad since that attempted alien invasion… and the collateral damage had been tempered by the Avengers. Where were the Avengers now? On vacation?

A fire hydrant exploded, followed by another a few blocks down from the other.

Towers of water climbed into the smoking air, and all gunfire ceased. A speechlessness overcame Princeton Avenue, a dreaded awe as the impossible played into effect.

"What in the…" Robin Bullock let the radio slip form his fingers, the gadget clattering to the ground.

"Am I on drugs?" His wife murmured, "Tell me I'm on drugs."

The gunmen began to run as the towers of water formed into twin hands, and one unfortunate mercenary found his life come to an abrupt halt as those two enormous hands clapped together, with him in between.

The water gushed down Princeton Avenue, lifting cars and easily taking four of the gunmen with it in a gripping tide that promised punishment. The remaining four open-fired on the man that stepped outside the café. The man leapt aside, and what Detective Bullock say next defied his perception of reality.

A ball of water gathered before the man's hand, freezing into an icy sphere which shot forth with the force of cannon-fire, smashing into the masked face of one of the gunmen, and snapping the assailer's neck as he fell back off the car. Another gunman was thrown into the air as the porthole he stood upon was forced to explode skyward as the sewage burst from below, dousing everything in fetid misery. What was left of the criminal attack force lay in bits and pieces among the pavement, spitting crap and garbage.

Eyes met.

Leaning against the car with which he had been using as cover, Detective Robin Bullock's eyes met the man's, and his vision funneled. Out of all the bio files Bullock had read of the man, Intel had left out the crucial fact that Percy Jackson was superhuman.

And just like that, the fugitive was gone, vanished in a cloud of vapor.

…

What made the front page of the paper the next day was a group of six grumpy criminals, all handcuffed in the back of a police truck, their hair and outfits sticky with who-knows-what.

Three Dead in Terrorist Attack

10 Russian terrorists with unknown intentions found hard (and putrid) justice as an unknown man, as witnesses' state, bent water itself to flood Princeton Avenue, a humble district boasting some of the finest shops and cafes that could be found in New York…

Mara tore her eyes from the newspaper as she watched her sedated daughter sleep soundlessly on the hospital bed. She hadn't witnessed this man who could bend water. She had been too busy unconscious. Guilt stung. She was supposed to be protecting her daughter, not fainting in the face of danger.

The young mother remembered the men with guns, with masks. Their harsh voices, their violent means to getting what they came for. Who they came for.

"We have come for Perseus Jackson!"

Her last memory before blacking out was Perry, watching her with wild eyes as he huddled behind the counter. The strangest thing was that he wasn't afraid, he was worried. Mara had asked around for the man after regaining consciousness on the gurney that was pushed into an ambulance, but nobody had seen him.

Where had he gone? Was he okay? His name wasn't on the casualty list, which was a relief. But… where could he passible be?

"I'm sorry this had to happen on your birthday," Mara whispered, taking her sleeping daughter's hand in her own.

The doctors had confirmed that Abby would live with minor injuries. Mara, however, had suffered worse. She felt with her fingertips the stitching that sealed the wound on her forehead. A fatal wound if it had remained open for any longer. The doctors had worked swiftly and efficiently, thank God. Abby was already without a father in her life, if she were to go on without a mother…

No. She would not think of that. Not now.

Be thankful that you lived.

…

"Get out of me!"

Percy screamed, throwing himself against the alley's brick wall, clawing at his head. "Get out!"

We are one now, Perseus.

The Exiled Prince felt that his insides were burning with hellfire, melting away who he is, his identity.

You cannot pretend to be human. You were always destined to be more.

Screams. A thousand voices within his head, all screaming with torment as the fires ate them, devoured them, consumed them.

You are my salvation, Perseus. And for that I thank you.

"You are killing me!" The prince scraped that the walls, the tips of his fingers bloodied with his manic efforts.

I am not.

Percy's eyes burst into blazing green flames, his mouth opening to reflect his torment.

I am shedding your mortal flesh.

…

Oh my.

Dear me.

This seems rather sinister.

And wow, over a hundred-thousand views. I am one lucky guy.