Hello my darlings! Hope everyone is having a good day. I may be about to ruin it though. Some bad news (depending on how invested you are in this story) I am going to be taking a break from updating for a while. This is because I have some very important exams coming up and I need to really focus and spend all my time studying for them. If I were to keep posting during this time, the chapters would not be very long or good and I would most likely not do very well in my exams. But never fear! I am definitely not abandoning this story and will be back sometime around the beginning of June. So it will only be a month's break. The good news (in hopes that you all don't disown me) is that I have written an extra long chapter (over 5,000 words!) to keep you all going for a while in these dark times. I hope you will all come back to reading this when I update again. Sorry for the long explanation, but it was just to make sure you don't think I've dropped off the face of the Earth, or that I'm abandoning this story. With that all said, please enjoy the chapter and I will see you all again in a bit over a months time!
Nothing was working.
They had tried and tried but nothing was working. True, they had only really had around 5 attempts at an antidote over a short period of time, but the disappointment was really starting to get old.
"Don't worry Jason, we'll find a cure," promised Bruce, giving him an encouraging smile, which Jason half-heartedly returned before dropping into his usual expression of dismay.
Bruce looked at him with pity before making up an excuse to leave and exiting the room.
He walked out and headed to the training facility where the rest of the Avengers were. Everyone needed something to do in order to take their minds off the current situation they were in, and apparently the way to do that was to punch the living daylights out of anything they could find.
Whenever Bruce entered though, they all stopped what they were doing and immediately turned to face him, expectantly. Guilt swelled up in him when he saw the crushed hope in their eyes as he solemnly shook his head.
"Nothing?" asked Clint. "Nothing," sighed Bruce, walking further into the room and leaning against the boxing ring, arms folded.
"Maybe the kid wasn't lying when he said there was no cure," suggested Tony, grimly, pretending to be focused on the blueprints of whatever new device he was creating. It was just his own form of distraction, but nobody questioned it.
"No, every problem has a solution, and so does this one," Steve said firmly, though it seemed to sound more doubtful the more he said it.
"We'll keep trying," assured Bruce. "But what do we do whenever Jason starts experiencing worse symptoms? Which from the looks of Percy won't take very long," reminded Clint.
"Jason is strong. I'm sure he'll be able to withstand whatever is thrown at him. For a while, at least," said Steve, expression set firm in defiance.
"And what about Percy? He's getting worse with every hour. How much longer do you think he will last?" asked Natasha.
Bruce sighed. "I don't know. We'll just have to hope they last long enough for us to find a cure."
They sat in silence for a moment, staring at the floor as they ran through their own thoughts, thinking of their own solutions, none of which worthy of voicing.
"We never found out what really happened with Percy earlier," Clint suddenly said, drawing everyone's attention.
"What do you mean?" asked Steve, confused.
"Whenever he was hallucinating and lashing out. Do you not remember what Jason said to him?" asked Clint.
There was a pause as everyone thought back to that horrific moment, thinking through what Jason had said.
"You're not there. You escaped," remembered Natasha, frowning.
"Could he have been talking about the camp?" thought Tony. "Maybe, that would be a likely possibility," agreed Steve.
"He also said something in that language. The one the both of them had spoken in before. Anyone ever figure out which one it was?" asked Tony.
Everyone shook their heads. Any time they tried to review the camera footage when the boys had spoken in this mysterious tongue, the audio either wasn't clear enough or the language seemed too old to translate.
"It's sounds like Latin maybe, but other times it sounds completely different. Like they're speaking two different languages," Natasha pointed out.
"They're probably trying to throw us off," said Tony.
"Maybe. It would be smart, though. They've been taught how to speak languages that are so uncommon, possibly extinct, that no one would understand what they were saying, even if they heard them completely clearly. Perfect for speaking in code whilst in public," voiced Clint.
Natasha gasped. "What if that's it?"
"What if what's it?" asked Bruce, puzzled.
"What if the reason they were taught these languages is because they want them to be able to discuss classified matters more publicly without the worry eavesdroppers?" suggested Natasha.
"But when would they be out in public for something like that?" asked Tony.
"When they would be sent out on dangerous missions that only empowered children can go on," realised Steve, realisation dawning on him.
Their eyes widened simultaneously.
"Think about it. You wouldn't suspect a child to be capable of violence or see them as a threat, so you could send them on dangerous assignments where they would have more of a chance of going unnoticed," explained Steve. "And with how powerful Jason and Percy are, I would say they have definitely been sent on treacherous tasks over the course of time they've been with this camp."
"But what would that have to do with how Percy reacted during his outburst?" pressed Tony.
"How likely do you think it would be that they have been sent on countless perilous missions that would most definitely last quite a while and haven't come back traumatised?" asked Natasha, darkly.
They stared at each other in shocked stillness, jaws dropped in disbelief.
"Wait," Tony said suddenly, pulling out his phone and projecting the screen into a holographic from.
They all watched him flick through different files before selecting on the camera footage document.
"This was recorded the first night Percy and Jason were here," explained Tony, pulling up video footage of Percy's room. Yes, they did have cameras placed in their rooms (they were still prisoners in a way) but these were specifically designed to blur out and delete any footage recorded of inappropriate images, designed and manufactured by Tony himself.
The video played, showing Percy asleep in bed. Tony fast-forwarded to around 4.30 in the morning. This is when things got interesting.
Percy could visibly be seen tossing and turning, grunting in his sleep. His face was scrunched up and his breathing seemed to pick up.
"No," he muttered, eyes still closed. "Help. Help!" he said a little louder.
His breathing quickened even more so. "No, no, no not again!" he near shouted. He then started to choke, trying to suck in any air he could but seemed unable to.
All the Avengers watched intently, distressed at what they were seeing but unable to look away.
Percy then sprang up letting out an echoing scream. He grasped onto the bedsheets around him as he finally sucked in breath after breath.
He looked around, his whole body trembling.
"Jeez," muttered Clint. "Keep watching," said Tony.
After a few moments of Percy trying to calm himself, he started harshly coughing, reaching over to grab a glass of water. The cough that had started all this. After that, he got up and out of bed, heading to the bathroom.
Tony switched off the hologram.
"When I first looked over this, I presumed he was just having a nightmare. But from what we've now said, it could be more than that," he said.
"PTSD," stated Steve, still staring at where the image had been.
"Definitely looks like it," agreed Clint, sighing heavily. "And he's showing signs of the plague. Even then."
"I saw him that morning not long after. Why wouldn't he have said anything?" Steve though out loud.
"He probably didn't trust us enough at that point," suggested Bruce, sounding saddened by the thought.
Clint ran his hands through his hair. "This is so much worse than we thought," he said, looking up at them all. "I think it's time we do something."
After a moments hesitation, they all nodded.
Natasha straightened, looking at them all seriously.
"We better call Fury."
...
Jason took a deep breath before pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning against and walking towards the machinery.
He had been avoiding looking at this since Bruce left, but he couldn't put it off any longer.
There had to be some reason why none of their attempts were working, and Jason was going to find that reason.
He stopped in front of the examination table and peered down at all the equipment, looking at different screens with analysis' and results from potential cure attempts on them.
They all were negative. Of course, Jason knew this already, but it was still upsetting to actually see.
He rummaged through different files and papers that had been put together so far on any tests that had been run or information that been gathered. Nothing.
He scrolled through platforms that had been created which had the testing processes recorded. Nothing.
Jason grunted in frustration. How could there not be anything? What am I missing? What-
An amused laugh brought him out of his thoughts.
He whipped round to find the source of the laughter. He gasped at the figure before him, her short, black, spiky hair and punk rock style a dead give-away of her identity.
"Thalia?" he asked, uncertainly.
His sister smirked back at him. "Who else would it be?" she replied, raising her eyebrows at him.
Jason stared at her in disbelief but quickly hurried over and wrapped his arms around her. "How did you get in here? And how did you know where I was?"
"I have my ways of finding you, little bro. It's like a sixth sense older sisters have," she responded, returning the hug.
"It's so good to see you," exasperated Jason, pulling back to look at her, smiling.
"I wish I could say the same," she replied, easily, still smirking.
Jason still smiled but frowned slightly in confusion. "What?" he asked, laughing nervously.
"Honestly, I'm not at all happy to see you Jason. I mean, I'm obviously disappointed in you," she said, shrugging like it was common knowledge.
This time, Jason stopped smiling. "What? Why?" he asked, puzzled by her meaning.
"You're letting Percy and everyone else die," she said, looking at him like he was being an idiot. "This is your fault, Jason."
Jason stared at her for a moment before slowly stepping out of their embrace and away from her.
"Who are you?" he asked, warningly. "What do you want?"
"It's me, you idiot, your sister," she said, laughing again, but this time without humour. "But what I want? Well, that's a different question."
Her smirk turned to a snarl. "I want you to realise what you've done. To your friends, to all of camp." She stepped closer. "To me."
Jason's eyes widened as he stepped back again, his back hitting the wall. Thalia moved closer. Her expression turned sad, hurt.
"Why are you doing this, Jason? Why are you letting me die?" she asked, sounding so distraught.
"I-I'm not. This isn't my fault," stammered Jason. It wasn't, right?
"It is, Jason, and you need to admit it. All of the demigod race is dying. Because of you," she said, darkly.
"N-no! I haven't done anything!" he yelled, panic starting to work its way into his mind. What if this is my fault? What if I'm the reason everyone is dying?
"Exactly. You haven't done anything. And now, we're all going to pay the price," whispered Thalia, right before blood began to pool from her mouth and she started to choke.
"No!" shouted Jason, hurrying forward and grasping her shoulders, lost at what to do but refusing to feel useless.
She looked at him with such betrayal. "Why, Jason?" she spluttered.
Suddenly, he was surrounded by all his friends, and they were all dying. Falling to the ground one by one as the pool of blood around him grew and grew.
"I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!" he screamed, paralysed in fear and guilt.
He cried out as Thalia dropped to the floor, fully surrounding him by the bodies of his dead family.
He dropped to his knees and cried, tears falling from his face as he desperately grasped at those who laid around him. Thalia, Percy, Hazel, Frank, Reyna, Annabeth, even Leo, and Piper. No!
He reached to them but instantly pulled away at the touch of their stone cold faces, the life in them drained.
"Look what you've done, Jason Grace," whispered a voice above him.
He slowly looked up, tear tracks stained down his cheeks. Who he saw made his blood boil.
"You," he growled, glaring at the witch before him.
Gaia smiled that evil smile only the purest of evil could give.
"You won't be able to save them, young demigod. It's time you accepted that," she said, looking down at him like he was the pile of dirt.
"We're already close to finding a cure. You won't win this," he snarled, glaring at her with pure hatred.
She laughed, sounding genuinely amused. "Oh, it's funny that you think that," she said, leaning down so they were eye to eye. "You couldn't be farther from truth."
He bared his teeth, wanting nothing more than to bring down the power of Zeus upon her. Instead, she lifted his chin up between her finger and thumb.
"These mortals are not going to be able to help you. I assure you of that," she promised, grinning down at him. She pressed her lips against his ear, whispering in. "This is between me, you pathetic demigods, and your worthless parents. Your new friends? They can't. Save. You."
She dropped him to the ground and cackled manically. He snapped his head up, ready to lunge at her, but she had vanished, leaving only her words echoing in her wake.
"No!" shouted Jason.
The door slammed open and Jason whipped his head round, panting aggressively like a wild animal.
The Avengers stared down at him wide-eyed, standing in the doorway.
Jason blinked as he looked around. No bodies. No evil goddess.
"Jason, are you okay? What happened?" asked Bruce, sounding concerned.
Jason didn't answer, instead attempting to calm himself down, to little avail.
He sensed someone kneeling down beside and he flinched instinctively, tensing as if ready for a fight.
The person halted their movements, freezing in place as Jason comprehended who it was.
"Jason," pleaded Steve. "What happened?"
Jason took a deep breath before answering. "I... I was hallucinating," he explained, continuing to look down at the floor before raising his head to look vaguely in their direction.
"It's one of the stages," he clarified, once he saw their confused expressions.
"What did you see?" Steve asked, softly. "Nothing. You wouldn't understand it," he answered, dismissing their concern.
"Jason, it's obviously something that is causing you a great deal of distress. It would help to tell someone about it," tried Natasha, tilting her head.
"No really, it's fine. I'm, fine,", he assured, though he could tell it sounded like a lie.
The Avengers glanced at each other, not knowing how to continue. They knew how defensive Jason was. Getting him to open up would not be easy.
"What happened to Percy?" Clint asked suddenly. Jason snapped his head up to look at him, confused. "What?"
"What happened to Percy?" repeated Clint, folding his arms. "Earlier when he was lashing out and screaming."
Jason blinked, a little caught off guard by the question. "He was going through some of the stages of the plague," he answered, hesitantly. "Hallucinating and... extreme agony."
"I know that. I mean what happened to cause all that?" pushed Clint, raising his eyebrows at him.
Jason frowned, stuttering as he tried think of a response. "What exactly are you implying?" Jason finally asked, sceptically.
"He was seeing some pretty terrible things from the looks of it. Things that he had probably experienced in the past that resulted in what was definitely a PTSD induced flashback," elaborated Clint. He set his face firm. "So, I'll ask again. What. Happened. To. Percy?"
Jason stared at him, desperately searching for a passable answer. He could feel everyone watching him. Think of something. Quick!
"He... uh... well he... uh," was all he could muster. He groaned before finally sighing. "It's hard to explain," he huffed. "Try us," said Natasha, folding her arms and leaving no room for argument.
Jason looked at them all, exasperated, before finally giving in, blowing a raspberry as he did so.
"Throughout his life, Percy has had to go on a lot of quests, missions," he clarified. "They sometimes don't end very well, and most times result in at least one kind of injury or another."
"The scars," realised Bruce. Jason nodded. "Yeah. He's been through some awful stuff over the years. Recently, he was...kidnapped. Or at least trapped," decided Jason. "For nine days."
He heard someone inhale sharply. "He was tortured, beaten, starved." Jason grimaced. "He went through Hell, but finally he managed to escape, even if he wasn't the same afterwards."
"Jeez," muttered Tony.
"How recent was this?" asked Bruce, worry clear and heavy in his tone.
Jason swallowed thickly. This is going to sound really bad, isn't it?
"Around 2 weeks ago?" he said, nervously.
"What?!" they all collectively exclaimed.
"That's so soon! I'm surprised he's functioning as well as he is," Clint said, exasperated, shaking his head in shock.
"That outburst is not exactly what I would call 'functioning well'," argued Natasha.
"That's what he was seeing when he was hallucinating," Steve thought out loud.
Jason nodded. "I think so, yeah," he affirmed. "From what I know, the virus makes you see and relive your worst nightmares, worst fears. Whether that be past, present, or future. The more you've been through, the worst your visions."
"What did you see?" Tony asked, cautiously. Jason stayed quiet for a moment. "My family. All dead. Because of me," he mumbled.
The room went still, silence radiating from each individual person.
"We're not going to let that happen, Jason," assured Bruce. Jason scoffed. "Yeah, cause we're making so much progress," he muttered.
A hand landed on his shoulder. Jason looked up, locking eyes with Steve, who looked at him sincerely. "We are going to help you, Jason. No matter what it takes, we are going to help you."
Jason stared at him for a moment, almost starting to believe him, before Gaia's words whispered in his mind. They cannot help you; I assure you of that. This is between me, you, and the gods.
His hope vanished as quick as it came, but just as suddenly came a thought. A realisation.
Jason's eyes widened and he sprang to his feet, speed walking over to the testing facility.
Steve had to catch himself at Jason's unexpected movements. "Jason, what are you-"
Jason shushed him, scrutinising over the equipment before him. He started fiddling with the machinery before finally settling on something and looking through the microscope.
He carefully placed his own blood sample into view, increasing the focus on the lens and squinting.
He watched the virus float around. Jason could almost hear it laughing at him.
"Bruce, is there a way to divide the blood of a person for each of their parental figure? As in single out the DNA from the mother vs the father?" asked Jason, turning to look at him.
Bruce frowned. "There should be," he answered slowly. "Why?"
"I want to test a theory," answered Jason, vaguely.
Bruce looked sceptical but walked over anyway. "These are analysis and samples of Percy's blood we took a while ago," he explained, passing them over to Jason. "We knew there was something different about it. His mother's was the only match that came up, his father's remaining unreadable."
"Thanks," said Jason quickly, turning back to the equipment.
"What exactly is it that you're doing?" asked Clint, peering over at him from where he stood.
"As I said, testing a theory," he replied, unhelpfully, not looking at him. Clint rolled his eyes at the lack of an answer.
Jason blocked them out after that, instead focusing on his work.
He placed the Poseidon half of Percy's blood in the device, and mixed in an infected sample. He watched as the previously healthy one became toxic.
He then moved onto the Sally half, repeating the process. Only this time, there was no reaction.
Jason frowned and continued to watch, in case there was just a delayed response, but still nothing happened. That's when Jason realised. That's when he knew his theory was right.
The reason the Avengers weren't getting infected was because they were mortal. This disease wasn't made for them. It was made for demigods.
It was only the god part of their blood that had traces of the disease and was prone to infection, because that's the only part that Gaia thought was worth killing. That was what made them so powerful. Take away their power, and they were basically taking away their strongest life force. Their mortal half would die alongside anyway.
"No," he whispered, backing away and collapsing into a chair.
"Jason, what is it? What's wrong?" asked Steve, brow furrowed in concern.
"You guys aren't going to be able to use your blood for a cure," he sighed, resting his head on the wall behind him and closing his eyes.
Bruce shook his head. "You don't know that for sure, we still might be able to-"
"No, you have to trust me on this. It's..." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's hard to explain, but you guys aren't going to be able to do anything on this one."
Silence echoed his announcement, the very breath in each person having seemed to halt. No one dared speak. No one dared move. No could physically do either. They were numb.
"This can't be it," muttered Tony. "You can't expect us to just accept that. To just sit back and watch as you both die!"
Jason looked up at him, smiling sadly. "Sometimes, it's easier to just accept the difficult things. It can make life so much easier."
"This won't make things easier," muttered Steve, shaking his head, his eyes full of despair.
"Maybe not. But fighting it may only lengthen the pain, and prolong the suffering."
He looked at them all individually, giving them a soft smile.
"It's time to stop fighting."
...
Their whispers were low and menacing, creeping in every corner of the room, like a soft breeze, but not the soothing kind. This was the kind you felt when thunder clouds suddenly appeared over the sky on what was meant to be a beautiful day. A sign that something was wrong; a sign that danger was nigh.
Percy sat pressed against the wall in one of the corners, his eyes locked staring straight forward. He couldn't feel anything, as if he were numb to the world.
He had talked to Annabeth this morning. She seemed happy, telling him about what she had been up to, how she was traveling with her dad-
No, Percy. That wasn't real. Or... was it?
Percy shook his head, frustrated. He couldn't tell what was real or not anymore. Although usually when someone he loved was murdered right in front of him, that was a pretty good indicator. Even then it feels so real.
Like just a few hours ago; he was at camp with all his friends, but it looked like they were attacking each other, then attacking other people Percy didn't know. There was fire and fighting and, well, you get the idea.
That, Percy knew wasn't real. But then again, it might have been...
Percy dug his hands into his hair, pulling at it till it hurt. It was grounding in a way, kept him focused.
Wait! Jason came in here earlier! That had to be real, right?
Percy thought about it for a moment before finally exhaling heavily and resting his head against the wall, closing his eyes.
"Of course he didn't come to see you. Why would he? You're pathetic."
Percy slowly opened his eyes before closing them again. Here we go again.
The voices were pretty constant recently, so Percy had learned to just ignore them, meaning anytime he heard a voice he presumed it was all in his head. Real or not.
"You're ignoring us now? How rude. See, this is why no one, let alone Jason, wants to be around you. You're terrible at conversations," said one of the voices.
"Or common courtesy for that matter," another one chimed in. Or is it the same voice? Percy honestly couldn't tell anymore.
"Shut. Up," muttered Percy, still not opening his eyes. There was nothing to look at anyway.
"See? That's what I'm talking about. Your mother never teach you any manners, Percy?" one of them asked, sounding amused.
This time Percy did open his eyes, if only to glare at the annoyance that was his company.
"Don't talk about my mother!" he said, bitterly.
"Jeez, touchy," was his muttered reply. "Guess it must run in the family. His uncle is such a drama queen."
"Don't compare me to him," snarled Percy, climbing to his feet. His hands were balled into fists as his glare pierced the opposite wall. Since he didn't have anything else to look at, the wall was a good substitute. That's what these conversations felt like, anyway. Literally like talking to a wall.
"And his son, too. So petty, not wanting to get his hands dirty," said one of the voices, ignoring Percy.
Percy paused. "What do you mean?" he asked, cautiously.
"Isn't it obvious? You of course," laughed one of them.
Silence.
"Oh. Don't tell me you didn't know that?" they asked, feigning pity.
Percy didn't answer.
"He didn't! Oh gods that's sad," laughed another. "I really thought he knew," said one of them.
"Knew what?" persisted Percy. What are they talking about?
"Why do you think Jason hasn't been down to see you since the... incident?" one asked.
Percy frowned. "He's staying away so he doesn't get sick."
The laughter rang in his mind, causing Percy's blood to begin boiling.
"He's staying away from you. You are terrible company, as we said," one of them said, mockingly. "He doesn't want to come near you now that you're contaminated," the other elaborated. "He has better things to do than to waste his time with the likes of you, who, let's face it, is not going to be here much longer."
Percy froze, his emotions fading as quickly as they came. He doesn't want to be around me? To see me?
"You're wrong," Percy said weakly.
"He's spending all his time with the Avengers, and pretty soon he'll head back to camp. He won't even think about you anymore. He won't. Even. Remember you," they snarled aggressively.
"You're wrong!" Percy shouted, the tears already starting to form in his eyes.
"Are we?" they asked, softly. Percy said nothing, sinking to his knees, his arms laying helplessly at his sides.
"You know it to be true, Percy," the voices spoke, sympathetically.
A tear fell from his cheek onto his lap, his breaths coming in sporadic and uneven. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move. Everything seemed pointless.
"But that doesn't mean you have to accept it," one of them said, darkly.
Percy caught his breath... What?
"Are you really going to just sit here and wait for death? When Jason has abandoned you? Is disgusted at the very sight of you?" one whispered, grinning from the sounds of it.
Anger began to well up inside him, so strong and powerful. Usually, Percy could control his emotions, or at least he tried. Right now though, Percy didn't want to try.
The anger was so dominating, giving him so much power. Made him feel so alive. So, he let it take control.
"No," he muttered, darkly, getting to his feet.
"You are far more powerful than him, Perseus," they whispered, evilly. "You should remind him. You should remind all of them."
Percy snarled as he tensed every muscle in his body, fury burning within him.
There was a small part of him that was yelling at him. What are you doing? Jason is your friend! You can't-
He snuffed it out, silencing any part that would make him doubt himself.
He was done letting this disease rule over him. He was done waiting for death. He was done with everyone looking at him like he was delicate, needing to be treated a though he were helpless. Pathetic.
No more useless little boy. No more being a slave to the Gods. No more obedient prisoner.
He growled, raising his head and pulling himself up straight to his full height.
"No more."
Does that cliff hanger make you want to come back and find out what happens? Hopefully, that is my intention. (Evil laughs into the distance.)