The Avengers stood there in what had to be the most jaw dropping shock ever felt by a person.
Jason stared nervously at them, waiting for a reaction. The Avengers stared at him, too stunned to say anything.
Their thoughts were all pretty similar, though. What did he just say? A plague?! It has to do with their camp? I knew there was something up with that place!
"I'm sorry, what?" asked Tony, finally breaking the silence. "You heard me," assured Jason.
Clint, however, looked at him sceptically. "We want an actual, truthful explanation, Jason. Not some made-up excuse in an attempt to cover up your lies," Clint said, sternly.
"I am telling the truth," persisted Jason, frustrated. "It is pretty far fetched, Jason," agreed Steve, looking at him with an expression that said, 'I don't believe you.'
Jason groaned, annoyance creeping its way in. "Would you just listen to me?" he said, angrily. "Ever since you kidnapped us, you have been wanting me to tell you what is going on. Now I'm finally willing to, and you're not even listening!"
"I'm sorry Jason, but you have to understand; this explanation is quite hard to believe," tried Bruce, looking at him with pity, which only angered Jason even more. They're talking to me like I'm some scared, helpless little child. Like I have no idea what I'm talking about. Like I'm a liar.
He scrunched up his face in annoyance, fury clawing its way through his mind, pushing him to lash out. But he didn't. There was something he was feeling that was stronger than anger, something he couldn't hide. Jason realised, defeatedly, that it was sadness. That's all he really felt, wilting away any traces of anger that were there only moments ago. He was still worked up about what had just happened with Percy, and even though all he wanted to feel was irritation right now, he couldn't.
Anger was easier to feel that sadness. You could cover up other emotions and hide away from what was actually going on in your life. But at this moment, the grief won out. And it must have shown.
"He's telling the truth," announced Natasha. Jason looked up to see all the Avengers looking at her in disbelief.
"You really believe him?" asked Tony, surprised. Natasha nodded. "I do," she decided, looking at Jason.
A small smile appeared on Jason's face as a show of thanks to her.
After a moment of silence where everyone seemed to agree to hear Jason out, Tony said to Jason what they were all thinking. "Explain."
"Yeah, okay that's a fair request," agreed Jason, scratching the back of his neck in contemplation. Where would I even begin?
"Okay, here goes," he began, taking a deep breath.
"A few days ago, there was an outbreak of an unknown disease at our camp. It managed to spread so fast that within just over 24 hours, almost the entire camp had been infected. When me and Percy finally found out what was happening, we realised Percy had been in contact with patient zero, a young boy named Johnny, right before he left for the city. At first, we thought he had gotten lucky, seeing as how Percy seemed to be doing fine. Obviously though, we were wrong. Now, he is infected, going through the most horrific stages of an illness known to man," finished Jason.
Silence followed his explanation. Jason looked up to see the heroes all looking at him like he just told them a comet was headed towards Earth and they were all going to die with no way of stopping it.
Then, shockingly, a smile appeared on Clint's face. "You almost had me there. A plague broke out and is infecting everyone," he said jokingly.
When he didn't get a response, he looked over to see Jason staring at him, not at all laughing.
Clint's smile fell. "You are kidding, right? Please tell me you're not serious," said Clint, worry now lacing into his voice.
Jason shook his head. "I wish I could," he muttered. "And you're not exaggerating? Like, even a little bit?" asked Tony, hopefully. Again, Jason shook his head.
"For the first time since you brought me here, I'm being completely honest," sighed Jason. And with that, the panic began.
Clint started pacing, stressfully clawing his hands through his hair. Natasha actually looked astonished. Jason didn't think he had ever seen her so stunned. The distress on Steve's face was highly evident, and Bruce had to sit down, looking at the floor, lost in thought.
"So what you're saying is, at this camp you live at, an infection has developed that has already managed to kill most of the children there? And now Percy has said infection?" clarified Tony.
"Yep, that's about it," agreed Jason, solemnly.
"That's why you were so worried when you saw Percy was sick," realised Bruce. "And why you ran away, keeping as far a distance between you two as possible," added Natasha.
Jason said nothing, only nodding at their theories.
"What about you?" inquired Tony, warily. "How do you know you're not sick?"
"I don't," admitted Jason. "But if I was, I would have shown symptoms by this stage. I feel and look fine, as well, so we should be in the clear." Tony still looked a little apprehensive but nodded.
"Oh my God," whispered Steve, so many emotions going through him he felt numb.
"And you promise you're not making this up?" persisted Clint. "I swear on the riv- on my life," promised Jason, changing his sentence mid-way. (One revolution at a time, and from the looks of it, they were going to need a moment).
"Well, crap," stated Tony, bluntly. "Yeah, that about sums it up," agreed Clint.
"Wait. We shouldn't panic just yet," interjected Bruce, a look of clarity appearing on his face. He turned to Jason. "What all do you know about this virus? If you can tell us enough about it, we might be able to find a cure."
"Yes, that's true. Jason, how long has this been around? How long does it last?" added Steve, turning to face him as well.
Jason looked down, dizziness suddenly making his head spin with all the questions. "Nothing will help," he said lowly.
"Not if you don't tell us," said Natasha. She then made her voice more sincere, calming. "Jason, you've trusted us enough to disclose this information to us. Now all you have to do is tell us a little more, and we can help you, Percy, and all your friends." And learn about camp.
Jason shook his head again, his vision beginning to swim even more. "No, you don't understand, there is nothing you can do," he argued. Even if a cure could be found, there is no way it would be done by mortals.
"We don't know that unless we try," pushed Steve, empathy clear in his tone. "We can help you, help Percy," added Bruce. "Please Jason, let us in," appealed Natasha.
Too much talking, too many questions. Everything is too much.
Jason needed space; needed to be alone, and away from people, and why won't my head stop spinning?
Their voices kept getting louder and louder, and Jason couldn't take it anymore.
He finally got up and stepped towards the doorway, when spots danced in front of his eyes.
When his vision cleared slightly, he found he was on the floor. He felt like he was going to be sick.
"Jason, are you okay?" asked Steve, sounding deeply concerned. He took a step towards him.
"No I'm fi-" A dryness appeared out of nowhere in his throat causing him to start coughing aggressively. Once he controlled himself enough to stop, he froze. No.
His eyes widened as his breathing picked up. He glanced up to see the others were all staring at him with mixed levels of confusion and worry.
Steve began to walk over to him, wanting to help.
Jason hurriedly pushed himself backwards. "No!" he yelled at him. Steve froze in place, staring at him confused, before he realised.
His eyes widened and he gasped, as did the others when they caught on.
"Jason," whispered Bruce, panic and worry clear in his expression.
Jason pushed himself onto his knees, sweat dripping from his brow, his throat feeling raw and painful, and nausea creeping its way through his mind and body. A tear formed in his eye, but it never got to fall.
The last thing he heard was Bruce's voice, sounding far away. "Get him to the mad bay. Now!"
...
Panic levels were high as everyone scrambled in different directions.
Steve rushed forward and carefully but quickly lifted Jason up off the floor before immediately running out of the room.
Bruce was right beside him, with Natasha, Tony and Clint all helping to open doors and yell at people to get out of the way as they dashed to the hospital wing of the tower.
When they made it, Steve and Bruce burst into the room, while to others waited helplessly outside.
Natasha had her arms folded with an intense, worried look on her face. Clint continued his pacing from earlier, and Tony leaned against a wall, exhaling loudly as he did so.
"I can't believe this," muttered Clint. "Me neither," agreed Natasha, her gaze locked on the floor, deep in thought.
"Bruce will hopefully be able to do something that will help," suggested Clint, though he sounded as though he were trying to convince himself as much as the others.
Tony shook his head. "Weren't you listening to the kid? This thing, whatever it is, had already infected and even killed so many. What makes you think we have a better chance?"
The two didn't answer right away, simply staring into oblivion.
"I don't know," Natasha finally answered. "We can only hope."
They sat in silence for a while before a terrible thought suddenly occurred to Tony, causing him to gasp out loud.
"What?" asked Clint, looking over at him, brow furrowed. "What is it?"
"How did I not realise this right away," muttered Tony, annoyed. "What is it? Tony," Natasha said sternly when he didn't answer.
Tony looked up at them.
"Jason said neither of them realised Percy was sick for the first couple of days they were here, but Percy was already infected before he arrived," explained Tony.
"Right," began Clint, looking at him to elaborate.
"Meaning he hung out with Jason, and all of us, while he was unknowingly infected with this apparently highly contagious disease," continued Tony, a dark look in his eyes.
Both agent's eyes widened in shock as they realised.
"What would you say the odds are we now have this deadly plague?"
...
As Jason worked his way back to consciousness, he hears voices talking quietly above him. About him.
He slowly opens his eyes and was surprised to learn that there wasn't the stereotypical blinding lights to greet him. Instead, a warmer, low light, which was much better to wake up to in Jason's opinion.
As he adjusted, he glanced round the room he was in. He was lying down on a hospital-type bed, with medical equipment and machines nearby. Bruce and Steve were standing a few metres away, speaking in hushed tones.
Steve glanced over and noticed Jason awake. His eyes widened in relief. "Jason," he said. Bruce looked over and a smile grew on his tired face.
"What happened?" he asked, voice hoarse. The two adults looked at each other, a silent conversation taking place between them.
Finally, Steve turned back to him, but didn't move closer. "You collapsed Jason, and passed out. You were looking really nauseous," he explained.
Jason lay there confused for a moment before it all came crashing back at once.
His explanation of the truth, the panic and worry, how he started coughing. I started coughing.
He sat up suddenly as he remembered. "Woah, easy there," Steve said, coming over to him and trying to ease him back down, but Jason remained upright.
"No," he muttered. "No, no, no!"
"Hey, calm down. It's okay," began Bruce. "No, it's not! You saw what happened," interrupted Jason, grasping his face in his hands.
"We don't know for sure that you're sick," consoled Bruce, trying to sound hopeful. "What are some of the symptoms of the virus?"
"Coughing, nausea," deadpanned Jason, looking at him like he was an idiot. Bruce grimaced. "Okay, fair enough. But that doesn't mean anything for certain," said Bruce, confidently.
He turned and walked over to one of the tables with equipment on it. He began tweaking knobs and fiddling with different switches and buttons.
As Jason watched him, he realised how advanced this equipment looked. He knew that this 'Shield' government agency or whatever they were, funded a lot of the Avenger's operations, but this stuff looked almost futuristic. It looked... like it was not from this world.
In fact, it looked less scientific based and more, magic? That might be a bit of a stretch. But it definitely looked far more progressed in terms of mortal standards. At least better than anything Jason had ever seen.
"Do you know how you test for this plague?" Bruce asked, glancing over at Jason. Jason shook his head to clear his thoughts and refocused on the man instead of the bizarre looking equipment. He thought back to his dream: what Will had done to test, what the disease looked like etc.
"Yes, it's through a blood sample, but you won't be able to test-"
Bruce was already beside him inserting a needle into his arm before Jason could even finish his sentence, resulting in him flinching slightly at the prick.
Bruce then walked back over to the table and placed the sample in a tray and into the machinery.
"What am I looking for?" asked Bruce as the machine came to life.
"There's no point in looking," argued Jason. "Why not?" asked Steve. Okay, back to excuses.
"I have a bit of a rare blood type so it doesn't usually show up properly in that kind of medical machinery," explained Jason, gesturing at the equipment. Not his best lie, but he was tired, give him a break. In fairness, it wasn't a total lie, he did have rare blood type after all.
"That shouldn't be a problem. This equipment here has been enhanced by our friend Thor who we told you about, whose planet is lightyears ahead of ours in terms of technology. Tony has also managed to boost them as well," explained Bruce.
Jason raised his eyebrows, impressed, but was still doubtful. Demigod's mortal side was normal, the same as any other human blood. But heir god blood was... well, it was unexplainable, really. It couldn't be analysed. Although, this Thor was a God, or so he was told. So maybe...
"It looks like any other virus really. Except," Jason paused, trying to find the words. "It looks... alive," he decided. "It moves, mutates and multiplies, faster than any other disease. It looks almost alien-like."
There was a silence in the room for a moment, before Bruce slowly nodded and went to work analysing the sample.
They stayed quiet for the next few minutes, everyone too tense to make conversation. Finally, Bruce stepped back from the table and looked over at Jason.
"You really meant it when you said your blood was hard to study," he admitted. "Maybe you should come over and have a look yourself just to be sure."
Jason nodded and slowly edged himself off the examination table. Steve stepped closer beside him and put his hands out to help, but Jason signalled for him to move back. "I'm fine," he said.
Steve nodded but didn't move away.
Jason carefully walked over to Bruce and peered through the spot Bruce was looking through. Any bit of hope he had about being safe vanished when he saw the dark creature like smudge from his nightmares grinning back up at him.
He stepped back and leaned against the table for balance, the colour draining from his face.
He looked up to see the two looking at him, waiting. "Told you," he muttered. "I have it."
Bruce's expression wilted to one of devastation, and Steve looked away, but Jason could tell it was to hide whatever emotion he was feeling right now.
"Are you sure? How do you know for certain? What if-" Bruce started, desperately searching for another possibility.
"Bruce," Jason cut him off. The man looked at him, clearly distressed, but Jason didn't feel anything anymore. All the anxiety since he found out Percy was sick seemed to have washed away as acceptance took its place.
"Stop. Please," he said, tiredness seeping into his voice. The man looked at him pleadingly, begging with his eyes for Jason to tell him he was kidding. To tell him he was healthy, that this was all a joke, but Jason couldn't. No matter how much he wanted.
"How many people have been killed by this?" Bruce asked, hesitantly, not really wanting to know the answer.
Jason looked at him sadly before answering. "Everyone," he said, finally. "Everyone who has contracted the plague has died eventually. Everyone."
Bruce sat down on a nearby stool, pushing a hand through his hair, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
"We will find a cure," decided Steve. Jason sighed, not wanting to get into this again. "I told you, there is no cure. There is nothing you, or anyone can do."
"Well if there isn't one already, we'll make one. Bruce, can you-" he started, turning to the man.
"Steve," Jason said, loudly. The man turned back to him, and Jason noticed how angry Steve looked. How distraught. This was hurting him, and Jason found himself wanting to make him feel better. But there was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say.
Steve continued to peer at him, waiting agonisingly for him to speak. When he finally did, there was no consolation, no surprise chance at hope. Only the blunt truth.
"There is no cure."