¡Hola! A LOT of research went into this chapter so I hope you like it! If any facts are wrong or characters are OOC, please let me know! I wanna make this better! Also, thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following! ¡Gracias!

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or the Avengers.

Chapter 2- Natasha

The war was finally over.

Now the Avengers will finally get to relax and take a load off. I probably should've guessed that that was too good to be true.

We were all lounging around Stark Tower in Manhattan doing what we normally do off duty.

While Clint was nailing each and every moving target with one of his arrows, I was alternating launching my throwing knives, judo flipping dummies, and practicing my sharpshooting. One could always get better, right? In one his technical labs, Tony was doing something way too advanced for me on his holographic projector screens with Dr. Banner. Steve was taping up his hands for a little one-on-one with a punching bag, and more were stacked up in the corner. Thor was doing who-knows-what at who-knows-where.

I had one of my Glock 26's out and aimed at a target. My finger eased onto the trigger. Just then, the double doors burst open. My aim was thrown off and the bullet veered to the right, impaling itself in a speed bag.

I whirled around, ready to roundhouse kick whoever had broke my concentration.

"Meeting in the debriefing room. Now." With that, Director Nick Fury turned and left the room; not even fazed that the top soldiers in the world were poised to attack.

We all relaxed. I sheathed my knives (which i had laid next to me) and put my gun in its holster. Clint set his quiver down next to his bow, which immediately folded itself up. Steve began to unravel the tape from his hands and put aside the punching bags he'd broken for later repair.

We trudged out of the doors and to the elevator.

Don't get me wrong, I'm always up for a task, but debriefing room meant mission. Mission meant that there's a problem. A problem was not a good sign, especially since we had just finished a war.

When we arrived at the room, Tony, Thor, Bruce, and Directory Fury were all seated around an oval table looking somewhat agitated. We took our seats and hoped for the best.

"A freaking war just ended!" Tony exclaimed. "What more could you possible need us to do?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that." Fury said.

We all gave him confused looks.

"If you don't mind my asking, what's the whole point of the 'debriefing' room if we aren't allowed to know what's going on." Clint wondered.

"It would make absolutely no sense to you if I told you know, so I'm going to leave the explaining to the one person who can get us through this." Fury replied.

Again, more confused looks.

"And who might this be?" Thor asked everyone's unspoken question.

Fury left the room and returned a second later with a folder in his hands. No doubt someone's file. But this file was huge; at least two inches thick. Fury slammed the file down on the table. If this room was filled with normal people, we all would've flinched at the noise it made.

Everyone learned in, wanting to get a look at the name on the tab.

"Percy Jackson?" Steve wondered. (I thought about stopping it here and giving you guys a cliffy, but this would be a really short chapter and I'm not that mean)

Fury nodded.

Tony, being closest to the file, pulled it towards him and flipped the top.

His eyebrows knit together. "Um... I think you have the wrong file. Or the wrong picture, at least. This kid looks sixteen."

Fury nodded again. "That's the right file. And picture."

"I'm sorry, I don't think you heard me. I said: sixteen."

"I'm afraid so."

"Why's that, Director?" Bruce asked. I didn't understand why Fury would be afraid that this kid was sixteen. Sure, Tony Stark graduated college with the highest honors at only seventeen, but that's nothing to be afraid of. I decided to wait it out and see what exactly was so bad about him being only sixteen.

"This boy has seen and gone through much more than any sixteen-year-old should." Fury replied.

"Like..." Clint urged.

"Like I said earlier, I'll let him explain." The director then nodded to the file, bringing our attention back to it. "By the way, Tony, I think you'll like this kid a lot."

Tony read the first few lines of the file, "'Name: Perseus 'Percy' Jackson. Date of birth: August 18, 1994. Lives in Manhattan.' A bunch of other pointless stuff. Oh! Look at this! Got kicked out of every school he's ever been to. 'Strangled a snake in preschool. Blew up a school bus with a Revolutionary War cannon in fifth grade. Blew up a school gymnasium in seventh grade. Blew up a band room in ninth grade. Was the victim in a nationwide manhunt/kidnapping. Put a hole in the Gateway Arch. Still no criminal record.' Man! I like this kid!"

By the end of Tony's revelation, we were all pretty much shocked. What kind of teenager blows up a bunch of stuff and gets away with it? This boy intrigued me.

Tony turned to the next page and immediately scrunched his eyebrows together. He began to flip through the huge file, became frustrated, then shut it.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked.

"It's all been redacted! We basically can't read anything!"

Since I was closest to him, I grabbed the file and fingered through it.

He was right. Of course he was right, though. He doesn't have the title genius for nothing.

"'Mother: Sally Jackson.'" I read. "'Father:' it's been blacked out. Why aren't we allowed to know who his father is?" I wondered aloud. "'Past Step-father: Gabriel Ugliano-reported missing. Current step-father: Paul Blofis.'"

"Alright," Director Fury said. "All of you be prepared for more about this, but for the first task I'll need Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff. The rest of you are dismissed until further notice."

Everyone, save Clint and I, got up and went back to their previous activities.

"After I get through explaining this to you," He started, "I need you to retrieve Percy. He may not be the most compliant so you'll need to do it the old fashioned way."

We both knew what he meant by that so we let him continue.

"Now, Percy isn't a normal teenager as you might've guessed. The Greek gods are real and here to this day. Percy is the son of one of them."

"Kind of like Thor?" Clint asked.

"Kind of, yes." Fury went on to explain the most important information about Percy Jackson. He revealed his strengths, weaknesses, weapons, and training to us, but left out a lot about his life in general. "Percy can tell it the best," he said.

I was excited about a new task, hoping that nothing major was going on (which wasn't likely at all, seeing as we were getting help from a kid), but just something to keep me occupied.

Clint an I had borrowed a big black van, but only because Clint insisted that that was the latest in 'kidnapper' wheels and we had to have it.

As we drove to his apartment complex (which Director Fury had given us the address for), we went over the plan.

"Alright," I began, "we'll wait for him to come out and hopefully corner him somewhere. He'll most likely turn to leave. I'll sneak up behind him and hold the cloth (which contains chloroform, of course) to his face. Since chloroform takes a while to to take effect, it will only make him drowsy. While in this state, it should be easy to bind him, which I will let you do the honors of, if you'd like."

Clint nodded and smiled widely. "It would be my genuine pleasure, Agent Romanoff."

After not long of a wait, Percy finally walked out. He looked exactly like he did in the picture in his file. Windblown black hair, eyes as green as the sea, a goofy smile on his face. He looked laid-back, carefree, and normal. In other words, almost the exact opposite of Thor. Not exactly what I was expecting. I didn't let this hinder me though; looks can be deceiving.

He was whistling, too. A horrible country song (love country music!) by the sound of it.

He made his way down an alley.

Perfect, I thought.

We drove down the block and around a corner to intercept Percy on the opposite side we just were.

When he saw that a huge, black, stalker van cut off his exit, he turned on his heel and tried to fast-walk away.

I slid the van door open noiselessly and made my way up to him. I noticed that Clint was poised off to the side with his bow in his hand in case anything went wrong. We knew that arrows wouldn't hurt him (or anything for that matter), but they might distract or startle him.

I also noticed that Percy had a pen in his hand. If I were just any person I wouldn't pay it any attention at all, but I knew that this wasn't just a pen. I also knew that it wouldn't hurt me either.

When I was about two feet away from the demigod, I clasped my hand over his mouth. He immediately seemed to weaken and lost his grip on his pen. He fell into my arms, almost completely unconscious.

I hauled him into the van.

"Well that was disappointing." Clint said, voicing my thoughts, as we drove back to Stark Tower.

I'd imagined that it'd be harder to take him down, especially with all of the praise Fury gives him. I was also baffled as to why the chloroform worked immediately. I knew that that only happened in the movies and that chloroform in real life took a long time to completely knock someone out. I guess that it's a side effect from the Achilles curse. Fury said that it made him tired more often, so it seems like a reasonable conclusion.

We arrived at Stark Tower in the late evening, so luckily, no one but Tony and Director Fury were there.

Clint carried Percy bridal-style to the door where Fury greeted us.

"Nice work." He said. "Bring him to a guest room where he can stay the night."

"What if he tries to escape?" I wondered.

"He can't." Fury left it at that, but I decided not to question him.

Clint carried him up to one of the guest rooms and laid him down on the bed.

Clint smiled. "Nice job, Tasha." He then turned to the sleeping boy on the bed. "Sweet dreams, squirt."

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