"Militarism," Ned said.

"Military something," Percy sighed, leaning against the wall with a scowl. "Like, a country being really aggressive?"

"I mean, more or less," Ned shrugged. "Glorification of the military. Animism."

"Animals?" Percy guessed. "Uh. Really liking animals." Ned couldn't quite suppress his snicker in time, and Percy rolled his eyes. "Fine, tell me."

"The belief that spirits inhabit the features of nature," Ned said, checking the back of the flashcard.

"Dude," Percy complained. Ned shrugged apologetically.

"That's a key feature of Ancient Greek mythology, isn't it?" Peter offered, though he was suppressing a smile too. "Animism and Ancient Greece. Like- tree nymphs and naiads and stuff. Does that help?"

"...Yeah," Percy sighed, rubbing his face. "Stop laughing at me, I know I'm dumb."

"Sorry!" Ned said sheepishly. "I'm not laughing at you having trouble, I'm laughing 'cause you look like a dog walked up to you and stuck its butt in your face."

Percy snorted. "Thanks. Feeling hungry yet? I want to stop thinking about old world philosophies."

"Oh hell yeah," Ned said, dropping the stack of flashcards. Peter was only a little slower, climbing to his feet.

"You sure you don't want any help?" Peter asked, giving Percy a hand up. "I swear I'm not as bad a cook as my aunt. Not making any promises about Ned though."

"I believe you," Percy said, amused. "But don't worry about it, I don't mind. Thanks for helping me study even though I whine about it the whole time."

The thing about Peter's aunt was that she always really wanted to cook, she was just absolutely awful at it. It meant that Percy had a lot to work with as he rooted through the freezer, then the pantry to see what he could make, as long as he ignored the complaints as he pulled out cans of vegetables.

"You should get artichoke bottoms instead," Percy said without thinking, moving to chop the hearts up anyway. "They taste the same but they're not so stringy."

"Uh, okay?" Peter said, bemused. "I'll let Aunt May know."

Percy gave him a sheepish grin. "Sorry. It's been just me and my mom for a couple years now, so I've had a lot of time to learn." He tossed the chopped hearts in a bowl and grabbed some more. "Weren't you gonna work on that Lego thing? You've got some time before this is done."

"Leaving a houseguest alone is rude," Peter said wisely. "Especially if they're doing you a favor." He grinned. "It's fine. We can work on that anytime, right, Ned?"

"As long as we do actually get around to it," Ned said, nudging him. "You've been so busy lately, we've barely had time to hang out."

"Ned, we hang out four times a week."

"Oh, in that case," Percy said, barely suppressing a grin as he tossed spinach, artichoke, and some grated cheese into the pan, "how's asking out Liz going?"

Peter sputtered, but Ned was grinning. "Yeah, Peter, how's asking out Liz going?"

"Fine!" Peter yelped, voice cracking.

"Oh, so you've already done it," Percy said, eyes glittering with mirth. "And she said yes?"

"No! I haven't asked her yet!" Peter groaned and covered his face. "Don't do this to me, man."

Percy laughed at him, Ned only a second behind. "You're doing it to yourself, dude. It's not that hard."

"Says you!" Peter complained. "You're hot."

Percy turned pink. "You mean I'm tan and I work out," he dismissed, willing the heat out of his cheeks.

Peter blatantly, exaggeratedly checked Percy out, making him blush twice as hard. "No, I'm pretty sure you're just hot."

"You gotta own it," Ned agreed. "It's a waste of potential otherwise."

Percy shook his head and focused on cooking to escape the embarrassment, but didn't bother shaking the warmth out of his chest. It had only been a couple weeks since the start of the school year, but Percy liked to think he'd made pretty fast friends with Peter and Ned. Surprising, considering they were from such completely different social circles, but it turned out they were all three easygoing enough to let it slide. As a bonus, both of them seemed to consider it a point of pride to personally keep him from failing his freshman year.

Percy threw together enough pasta for all four of them, Peter's Aunt May having come home while he was cooking, and they ended up in front of the television watching Star Wars. By the time he left to take a lazy, meandering route home, he was in a pretty good mood. He didn't usually find friends he clicked with so well, but then, most of the time he was going to rich kid school.

He took his time heading home; his mom wouldn't start to worry for a few hours, and Percy didn't spend a lot of time in Queens. Before long, he started to catch sight of the local mask jumping between the rooftops; Percy silently nicknamed him Pajama Sam, and waved the next time he passed by, grinning when he waved back.

That might have been the end of it, Percy weaving around trying to tire himself out, if he hadn't stumbled across the bank robbery.

At first he just stopped because it was, frankly, hilarious; the bank robbers had decided to commit their crime dressed as the Avengers, and from the sound of his quips, Pajama Sam found it just as funny as Percy did. Not especially concerned, Percy leaned against the brickwork and watched for a while. He thought the mask probably had some kind of super strength, but it was really the sticky stuff that was his breadwinner.

Then one of them brought out the big guns, and things got really out of hand, really fast. Almost faster than Percy could follow, blasts like the old chitauri weapons were going off, and he dove for cover on instinct. One blast went wide, veering wildly, and then it was over. When Percy looked up, the culprits were webbed, and Pajama Sam was bolting across the street toward the bodega that had been struck.

Without a second thought, Percy followed. The inside of the bodega was thick with smoke, but the mask seemed to know where he was going and pushed right through to the back. Between the two of them, not a word passing between them, they got the owner and his cat out.

"Look after him, I got the fire," Percy said once they were free, then stifled a harsh cough – the smoke was worse than the forge gave off. If the mask replied, he didn't hear it, planting himself back in the doorway to glance around. The fire hadn't had time to spread yet; it was just smoke and dust.

Percy looked up and down the road before he found the nearest fire hydrant. He reached a hand out and beckoned impatiently, and something yanked at his gut. The cap of the fire hydrant popped off, and he reached out and pushed, directing the spray to hose down the hot spots.

"Dude, are you controlling the fire hydrant with your mind?" Pajama Sam whispered, making Percy jump in surprise. He smiled briefly without looking over.

"Just the water," he said, most of his focus still on guiding the high-pressure spout. "Can you help me get the cap back on when I'm done? I've never used a fire hydrant before."

"Uh, sure?"

A minute later, Percy was satisfied that the fire was out and the embers cool, and he clenched his fist to cork the fire hydrant. He immediately winced.

"Ow," he muttered, heading back over to recap the fire hydrant. "That's a really high-pressure pump."

"How can you tell?" Pajama Sam asked, helping him screw the cap back on with much steadier hands. Percy gritted his teeth instead of answering, and didn't relax until the cap was tight and he could let go of the water, which he did with a sigh of relief.

"Pressurized water doesn't like being held back," Percy said at last, straightening up. "But I figured leaving an open fire hydrant on the street would be rude." He looked up, meeting the mask boy's goggled eyes. "Thanks, but I'm gonna take off before those sirens catch up."

"Um," Pajama Sam said.

The next day, Percy found out that Peter was Pajama Sam, more or less by virtue of being five feet away and not actively ignoring him.

"That was you?" he asked, handing his homework forward to be passed to the front.

Peter stared at him. "I talked to you and everything!"

"You talked to him in costume?" Ned demanded, looking envious. Percy shrugged, embarrassed.

"I was more focused on the fire hydrant," he said. "And the fire."

"What fire hydrant? What fire? Why wasn't I invited?" Ned protested.

"Percy wasn't invited either," Peter said. "He was hanging out across the street watching."

Percy turned pink. "You saw that? Sorry. I thought it was funny that they'd dressed up as the Avengers to rob a bank, but it didn't look like you needed help until the bodega blew up."

Peter grinned a little. "Okay, yeah, it was funny until they brought the big gun out."

"I'm so gonna need you to tell me the whole story at lunch," Ned said.

Regardless of whether he had the full story yet, Ned pestered Peter with questions for the rest of the day. Peter fielded them, increasingly exasperated, and Percy tuned them both out as they bickered, an odd feeling coming over him the longer he listened.

He thought about the campers, huddling together for comfort after the invasion of their only safe haven, mourning their losses by the bonfire. About crawling through wreckage by moonlight, looking for a child's corpse. He thought of the Ophiotaurus, and Tyson forging swords under the sea, and the heart-stopping glint of Kronos' scythe. The bite of it. The molasses of Kronos' time powers.

He stopped thinking about it.

"I can't bring the Spider-Man suit to a party," Peter hissed to Ned between sit-ups. "It's not a party trick, and anyway the suit looks stupid! Trust me, it'd just embarrass both of us."

"But you have super strength," Ned hissed back, eyes wide with excitement, and Peter gave up and flashed him a grin.

At lunch, Peter relayed the story to Ned with only a cursory check to make sure no one was sitting too close. Even then, he was too excited himself to keep his voice properly low, and Percy might've smiled if he'd been in a better mood.

"Both of you have superpowers?" Ned said, sounding mildly betrayed. "I'm the weird one here?"

Percy didn't know why that rubbed him the wrong way so bad – a sudden lurch of bitterness that served to highlight the odd disorientation that had followed him all morning. Peter, on the other hand, snickered.

"What are the odds, right?" he asked with amusement. "Maybe a spider will bite you too."

"Yeah," Ned said wistfully. "Wait, would that hurt? Peter, did it hurt? ...How much?"

"I dunno, Ned," Peter said, exasperatedly fond. "Like a flu shot, I guess. And I was sick for a day or two, and then I had super strength. What about you, Percy? I don't think you get water powers from being bitten by something."

For once, Percy did not appreciate the inclusion. "Mine's inherited," he said shortly.

Peter paused, brow furrowing. "What's wrong?"

Percy sighed and tried not to feel like a bratty, sullen teenager. "I'm trying not to ruin the mood," he said. "The circumstances around my powers kind of suck, even if the powers themselves are really cool."

Ned kicked him lightly under the table, grinning at him. "How bad can it be?" he asked teasingly. Percy turned his plastic fork over and contemplated his answer for a moment. How to make them shut up without actually upsetting them- or worse, making them curious.

"My father and both of his brothers swore not to have any children," Percy said at last, carefully, without looking at either of them. "The last time one of them broke that promise, the daughter got hunted down and killed."

"Oh," Peter whispered. "Oh, I'm sorry, dude."

He sounded like he meant it, too, which just made Percy wince. He managed a smile for them.

"It's fine," he said. "Just not a lighthearted topic for me. There's no reason you two can't have fun with it, you know?"

After a bit, they did keep going, if with somewhat reduced enthusiasm. Percy tuned them out again, and despite his own best efforts, he was out of sorts for the rest of the day. He declined their offer to go to Peter's house and help with the Lego thing, and instead went straight home.

He was unlucky enough to beat his mom there, so he flopped onto the couch and moodily played Spirit Tracks, stewing in his thoughts.

What was bothering him so much about Peter and Ned's behavior? They weren't being particularly careless, considering how little was at stake for them, and they weren't even being goofier than Percy would've expected from kids their age. They just... weren't responding the way Annabeth might've, or Grover, or Thalia. Obviously they weren't; all of them had been forced to grow up the hard way.

He stayed there for the next few hours, all the way until he heard the front door open. He sat up to look, and Sally, just closing the door behind her, jumped sharply in surprise.

"Percy!" she said, quickly relaxing into a warm smile. "I wasn't expecting you to be home already. Did everything go alright at school?"

Percy shrugged and nodded, scooting aside to make room for his mom to settle on the couch beside him. She did, setting her bag down by her feet, and only when she looked at him again did her smile fade into concern.

"What's wrong?" she asked, a little softer. "You look out of it."

Percy wrinkled his nose and fiddled with the stylus for a minute, and finally burst out, "It's stupid." Sally reached out to squeeze Percy's hand reassuringly, and that turned out to be all he needed to continue, "Peter and Ned were, um..." He grimaced, not wanting to explain the whole situation right away. "They were talking about powers, and they were having fun with it, obviously, you know how people do." Percy rolled his shoulders, uncomfortable. "I don't know why it's bothering me."

"It's a very personal situation for you," Sally pointed out, with a small, comforting smile. "What happened?"

"I dunno," Percy mumbled, turning Sally's hand over so he could fiddle with her fingers. "It's just... they're such kids. I mean- I know we're the same age and stuff, but..." Percy wrinkled his nose and repeated, "I don't know why it's bothering me. They're fourteen, they're supposed to be like that. They're just so childish."

Sally's free hand went almost immediately to Percy's hair, stroking it in a slow and soothing motion that made him sigh. When he looked up, her expression was soft with understanding, because of course she immediately understood.

"It's natural to feel a little jealous, or even bitter," she said gently. She tugged at a lock of his hair, and he knew without looking that it was the grey one. "You were robbed of the most innocent parts of your childhood; that's not fair to you. I'm not surprised that seeing other children your age hurts sometimes."

Percy scowled. "It's stupid. It's a good thing that they're kids. I shouldn't be angry about it."

Sally bumped him with her shoulder, eyes soft. "You're allowed to be angry about your own misfortune, Percy. Sometimes I am too."

As usually, his mom knew exactly what to say to make Percy feel better, and some of the anger drained out of him, leaving him tired instead. He shifted again to lean against her. "Apparently last year Peter got bit by a spider that gave him super strength and sticky hands. Ned found out last night and thinks it's the coolest thing ever."

Sally stifled a giggle. "Oh, dear. There really are all sorts of ways to acquire powers, aren't there?"

Percy shot her a wry smile. "Still only two, I think. Peter said that the spider was part of another damn super soldier experiment." He set his head down. "Anyway, Peter's been running around in like, a hoodie and sweatpants that he sewed together to make a hero costume. I think he'll be okay as long as he sticks to petty criminals."

Sally's smile faded into worry. "That's an awful lot of responsibility to take on at his age... I hope he's doing alright with it. Superhuman abilities won't keep him safe on their own."

Percy nodded. "He's keeping it low-key for now. I think it's because he's embarrassed about his costume instead of because he has sense, but like, whatever works."

Sally laughed, and Percy gave her a grin, then retrieved his DS to keep playing, now in a much better mood.

After dinner, Percy went wading into the East River. It had become kind of an idle activity for him, something to do when he felt restless but didn't really want to do anything. When the mood struck him, he'd take a net bag – yes, he was aware of the irony – and trudge along the bottom.

See, the East River and the Hudson were always filthy. Shredded grocery bags flitted around the current, and broken bottles made the riverbed glitter. Plastic drink cups were everywhere, half-buried or bobbing along, and chunks of plastic packaging did the same. It wasn't much, but it made Percy feel better to take his net bag and fill it with garbage. He'd sort through it later; a landfill wasn't great either, but it was better than leaving the stuff in the river.

It was a little less calming now than it usually was. He kept thinking of the Styx and getting a thick lump in his throat, and he had to look up to remind himself the water was murky but not suffocating.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when something plunged into the water, sending a shower of bubbles swirling around it. His first instinct was that someone had thrown another damn bottle in – it wouldn't have been the first time – or maybe something bigger, like a box. But then his eyes fixed on the object, starting to thrash and struggle, and before he could think twice he was lunging forward, one arm catching around the person's waist while his legs kicked them up through the water.

They broke the surface of the water before Percy realized who it was and blurted out, "Pajama Sam?"

"W-what?" Peter coughed out, legs flailing uselessly and one arm clinging tightly to Percy's shirt. Percy flushed, kicking them over to the nearest shore to haul Peter onto land.

"I don't think ten at night's the time to practice your diving skills, man," Percy said, pushing Peter away to check him over for injuries. He was clearly scraped up, holes in his makeshift suit where none had been before, but mostly intact. "What happened?"

Peter looked down, then up at Percy, then down again; Percy could almost see him blinking owlishly behind his goggles. "...Weren't we just at the bottom of the river?"

"I have powers over water, we went over this," Percy said, a little defensively. He tugged at the net bag, dragging it further along the dock to keep it close. It wasn't as full as he liked to get it, but he suspected he was done picking up trash for the night. "Dude, what happened?"

"I tried to break up an arms deal," Peter said, tugging awkwardly at his sewn-up hood, voice muffled by the fabric. "Stumbled across the guys that were selling those alien weapons, you know? But, uh, they had backup. And the backup picked me up and dropped me in the river."

"You're lucky that's all they did," Percy scolded, feeling like an overbearing mother hen. He patted Peter down anyway, wincing where his hands came away sticky with blood, even if it was clearly just from scrapes. "Let's get you home so you can wash those cuts. The East River is filthy, they're going to get infected."

"Are you my Uncle Ben in disguise?" Peter asked him, and then flinched and fell silent. Percy pretended not to notice.

"I've been helping with the younger campers for two years now, you pick up some habits," he said, rising to his feet and giving Peter a hand up. "Seriously, did you get in a fight with a rose bush? Your clothes are wrecked, dude."

"I got dragged along behind a car for a while," Peter admitted sheepishly. "I'm gonna need to do all sorts of patching up, huh?"

"Uh, no," Percy said firmly. "What you need is some actual equipment."