Warning: Chapter contains details of mental therapy. Since this is important in Percy's development as a character and in plot, it may be uncomfortable to some readers and I ask that you, as readers, to please be mindful and if necessary skip the parts that make you uncomfortable. I don't go into much or even explicit or graphic detail but I thought this warning to be, at the very least, necessary. Also as a side note, this isn't intended to be an accurate portrayal of treatment by any stretch of the imagination.
Thank you to Tree Licker and Signs for reviewing this chapter!
Percy massaged his leg absently.
The day after meeting with Fury had found him sitting outside a quaint waiting room of some kind. It was warm and tan, with some nature art pinned on the walls. A stack of magazines sitting beside him in a haphazard stack.
A haphazard stack that he quickly corrected, because it was better than sitting in a chair twiddling his thumbs and recounting the lines on the ceiling.
A few potted plants were on a tiered stand in the corner, slightly drooping. They weren't unhealthy per se but they certainly missed a day or two of water. He took pity on them and seeing as he had nothing better to do he dropped an orb of water in each pot.
All that was done within the first three minutes of sitting in absolute silence, listening to the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock.
Normally, silence was fine. He loved it, just getting to soak in the presence and scene of everything without the disruption that crowds and conversation carried.
Here, though, he wasn't comfortable. It was a small cramped space and while homely, compared to the usual outdoors and open aired spaces he preferred, it was like a cave. The fact that he was waiting didn't sit well with him either.
His quests, missions…and war were different, waiting was needed for the opportunity to strike and nothing more. A means to an end.
This wasn't that. This wasn't needed. If what he read in the…pamphlet was any indication, 'Progress was never-ending' then…well there was no end.
He was here of his own volition. He could leave whenever he wanted. This was a mortal after all, offending them wasn't something he would blink at. He'd be more concerned about bailing if this was one of the Legion's or the Camp's doctors.
He didn't leave. Percy forced himself to stay seated and wait until he was called in. Not out of his own concern for his health though, he had long forsaken that for Olympus, his life to be spent as they wished. Evidenced by the fact that he had died not two weeks ago. While he had a healthy instinct to avoid unnecessary injury, he wasn't shy about receiving it.
No, this was more for his mom, in fact he was sure this was only for her. He'd do anything to keep her happy and safe. The relief and happiness in her eyes when he had…asked for her help in finding a mortal therapist was something he would not soon forget. He had expected concern and no small amount of stress to show itself but instead, it was the complete opposite. Sally wasn't a harpy and didn't make it a point to question him, she simply helped him, even when he had to push the appointment back because of a minor monster outcropping.
Percy figured she would think he was trying to get out of coming and if he was perfectly honest, he did think about pulling the 'demigod duty' card but thought against it after only a moment. In the end, if he did do that, he would only be delaying an inevitable confrontation that was unnecessary when he could just tough out two or three sessions and then legitimately bail when it didn't work…
Percy didn't have high confidence in a mortal doctor.
That said, he went through considerable trouble to set this up. On the Immortal side of things that is. He had called in a favor from Hecate to cloud his meetings from prying eyes. Headaches with deities aside, he had also shakily promised himself to try to leave any use of the Veil from these sessions, or use it sparingly.
While he didn't have much confidence in this working in the long run, he was going to do his part. Then he would be justified in his thoughts that it was only a waste of time trying to deal with things that were better left buried in the past.
His uninjured leg bounced.
The minutes wore on.
The doorknob jimmied and Percy's leg immediately stopped bouncing and his eyes locked onto the entryway.
The door opened to reveal the last person he expected to see.
Tony Stark was talking over his shoulder to who he assumed to be the therapist. Percy's hand stopped massaging his leg and instead gripped the armrest tightly. While his urge to kill him had significantly decreased almost to the point of non-existence, it was still there and whenever the guy showed up on tv Percy had to stop himself from any biting remarks.
It was especially difficult when Estelle seemed to start to idolize the Avengers, though at the very least her favorite one wasn't Stark and instead…Valkyrie.
It wasn't really a step up in his opinion but it was infinitely better than the Tin Man.
Estelle didn't seem to care that Jane wasn't part of the Avengers but reasoning with her was an effort in futility. It simply wasn't going to happen.
He didn't hear what Tony was saying to the person behind him as he exited into the small waiting room. Her farewell being a little more exuberant than she probably intended. "And please let Bruce know to stop worrying, I'm fine!" Stark laughed and told her that if she needed anything to let him or this 'Bruce' know before stepping away.
The tech-savant did a double take at him, bumping into an end table doing so. He eyed him for a moment. "Do I know you?"
Gods no. Percy thought as he answered. "I don't think so…" The Son of Poseidon trailed off not exactly wanting to get into a conversation with this man. If he did, the chance of wringing his neck would only increase exponentially.
"Huh.." Stark stepped away, shrugging. "You seem familiar. Probably just one of those faces."
"Probably." Percy agreed as his eyes trailed after the man.
"Oh, you must be Mr. Jackson! Please don't be a stranger!" A polite yet energetic voice greeted from the doorway. His eyes flicked to the woman. Her glowing raven hair was styled professionally, curled and then done in a tight and short bun. She wore little jewelry with dull studs as earrings, beyond that she wore a watch and a pair of what he equated to secretary glasses with a thick and curving frame. She dressed professionally as well, with a black suit coat over a button-up shirt underneath and a knee-length black skirt.
He rose, almost mechanically, from his seat and with a preparatory breath and stood in front of the woman. She offered her hand, which he shook after a moment of consideration.
"I'm Doctor Jennifer Walters, It's a pleasure to meet you, please come in!" She guided him in.
Jennifer Walters wasn't the typical psychiatrist. That isn't to say that she was a terrible one, the best there was, eccentric, or considered unorthodox, she was relatively average all things considered. After all, being good or bad was subjective to the beholder. No, what made her rather…unique was her patients and her aptitude for reading people.
Her location was the biggest factor in this. Situated in a niche spot in Manhattan that was equidistant between the city's VA hospital and the United Nations, her patients were usually combat veterans but sprinkled in would be the occasional diplomat family member or staff. Although those were few and far between, it had garnered her a well-earned and respected reputation and established her as a reliable mental health specialist that specialized in treating extreme stress, PTSD and easing the transition from military life into a civilian one.
While every case was, of course, different, there was a certain pattern that could be followed when it came to her patients. Even high-profile patients like Anthony Stark weren't any different. The need for distraction coupled with night terrors often resulted in sleep deprivation. The guilt of losing someone they were responsible for often resulted in moments of extreme reaction or acts. Triggers that, when experienced, would revert her patients back to what had effectively become their default instinct. A development of sociopathic tendencies to name the major ones.
The man after Stark, one Perseus Jackson, appeared no different from all the others that she had met with. Even if she didn't have the typical amount of background information available to her, Jennifer could immediately tell several things about him with just one look at him. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties, if that, which was odd…his stated age was twenty-one. It was probably the way he carried himself. Harrowing experiences had the tendency to make people look and seem beyond their years.
The way he sat indicated that he was tense and ready to spring into action at less than a moment's notice or even uncomfortable with his surroundings. Massaging and bouncing his legs told her of an anxiousness. What was most likely, from her experience, he doubted the efficacy of treatment which would indicate that he believed he could take care of himself. This could imply a lengthy and/or experienced service record if he was military, a civilian used to looking out for himself or he was simply ego-driven.
Her intentionally haphazard stack of magazines neatly stacked in the near exact center of the side table gave her an indication of an obsessive-compulsive disorder, or maybe he was just a control freak. Perhaps he was an officer or holds a position of relative importance with potentially a responsibility for others or a field of expertise.
When he stood and got a closer look at him, her thoughts of him being a civilian were pushed to the side as her more clinical observation favored him being a fighter. The scars were the foremost pieces of evidence of that. Scars that were too clean to be shrapnel but deep enough that it wasn't an accident or done with any run-of-the-mill kitchen utensil. There was also the burn that peeked from the collar and another burn that was on his left hand. They didn't appear natural but it was difficult to be certain whether it was a domestic injury or an incident involving an explosive with her cursory glance.
Further evidence was his watching of Stark. Recognition to be sure but not admiration. Like he was waiting for Iron Man to do something. As if he was prepared and willing to fight him. Unintentional as that encounter was, it clued her in on potential PTSD. Iron Man was a household name at this point and it would either take someone incredibly stupid or evil to be willing to fight him or had some sort of experience in fighting against overwhelming odds. Former military that were stupid weren't the type that walked through her door and she doubted the guy was a terrorist. So by simple deduction, he had fought against overwhelming odds but it could also be anything else, maybe he was distrusting, or simply had a dislike for the man.
He walked with a barely unnoticeable limp on his left leg. Perhaps massaging it wasn't a sign of nervousness but instead absently easing an ache? Persistent injury indicated combat experience, so she'd account for that.
When he met her at the door, his hand was calloused and faintly scarred as well, no civilian had that level of weathering on it. Even Stark kept his—relatively rough but uncalloused hands—taken care of. The way he addressed her was polite and respectful. So that clued her in that he wasn't here against his will or otherwise persuaded to be here.
But she would note down that if he was just trying to keep appearances to keep in contact to continue seeing and treating him. If he made the leap now to show up and back out after a few sessions, he would only make the future excuse of having tried it but it never worked out. She had seen it enough times to be only a little bitter about it.
Having finished her cursory profile, she led the man into her office. It was simple and furnished more as a modern office space rather than the warm and homely colors and furnishing that most therapists had. That was more for civilian treatments. Her experience showed her that attempting a façade with her patients simply set them on guard and further stressed them out, while she attempted a clinical approach once, it had an even worse effect. While soldiers were inherently grateful for medical aid in the field, the same couldn't be said for visiting a doctor's office.
So while she doubted it had any profound effect on her patients' mentality, every little bit helped when putting their minds at ease. Professional enough that it still portrayed her as a doctor that was serious, but still not enough to make it seem like she was going to poke and prod them.
Now to being with the introductory session and more in-depth profiling.
"Please have a seat!" She gestured to a seat, the one situated so that it was facing the entrance as she moved to her own which was placed between her patient's chair and the doorway. Jennifer studied him. He looked around, casting a brief glance about the room, his eyes lingering a hint longer on the windows before setting himself down, mechanically and almost abruptly.
So he's had some military experience of some kind. Enough that he tries to be aware of his surroundings as much as possible. She eased herself much more gracefully onto her seat, pulling the notepad and pen that were resting on the coffee table between the two.
She began noting everything she had learned and speculated on since laying eyes on him, speaking as she did so. "So, Mister…Perseus Jackson, tell me a little bit about yourself and why you're here today."
"Uh…call me Percy…or Jackson if you have to, Perseus is a mouthful and the mister makes me feel old." He said awkwardly shifting in his chair, not chuckling, a mannerism that would usually accompany a statement like that, his scarred hand absently massaging his leg. She noted that down. "What do you want to know?"
She thought for a moment. "Let's start with…" And from there the session began in earnest. She didn't ask much of anything with snippets of discussion. Personal to be sure as it was impossible to develop a concise evaluation of what she was dealing with otherwise but enough to push him just enough to try and evoke a reaction.
Every time he did react, she took note of the question asked and what body language was displayed. A shifting of his posture. A twitch of his eye. His gaze flickering around. His changing pitch, just to name a few.
And even the times he didn't do anything. The lack of reaction to more probing questions was a reaction in and of itself and probably spoke volumes more than if he did react.
These seemingly innocuous questions painted a rather contradicting picture from what she really had. While he carried himself like former military…he wasn't. Apart from his answers not lining up with any timeline that might've indicated service, or even suggesting he might have served, the more he spoke made it clear that he didn't or if he did, he was hiding it well. He remained incredibly respectful and polite to her at least, something she only experienced with people that had served. Most others would try to decompress, and lighten the mood so to speak.
There was also a two-year gap that he avoided from when he was supposedly sixteen to around eighteen where he would be either evasive or simply wouldn't answer anything. Something she jotted down and would make a point to investigate in any future sessions. It could be nothing, but she guessed that it was when the trauma happened.
He was also…arrogant? No…that wasn't the right word. Prideful…no…Assured. Well, all three of them if she was being honest. There was a steeped assurance in his manner was the best way to put it. Not stupidly arrogant or boastful but pride in what he spoke of, even if it was something trivial or random.
It did clash with his rather…anti-social behavior. From what she could tell, he didn't have many friends. She would even go as far as to say he despised social contact. It was normal for her patients to be at odds with crowds and public spaces but most of them at least had a close network of friends that they could contact.
She did ask about his line of work but he had shut her down saying that he wasn't allowed to talk about it. About as blunt of a shutdown as Jennifer could get, but it was normal for those she usually worked with. Foreign officials usually weren't allowed and her other patients had a tendency to not want to talk about work when they weren't on the clock.
But all in all, Jennifer had a good idea of whom she was working with. Despite his evasiveness, which was par for the course, Jackson really did seem earnest in his attempt to better himself.
"Just a couple more questions before we finish up today." She said as she flipped to a previous page. She had already filled several of them with notes. "We covered this briefly, but I wanted to ask. Will you tell me again what exactly you did for fun?" Plenty of people had things they did for fun. Whether it involved sports, video games or simply reading.
Percy, on the other hand, didn't answer…at all. Partly true. He had paused and considered the question for a solid minute. She would know, she timed it before he ended up settling on baseball as a recreational activity. Something she knew to be an outright lie, considering how long it took him to answer. Even grimacing as if he didn't believe it himself.
Besides that, he didn't even look like a baseball player. Or at least, didn't convey the image of one, she would've nailed him as more of a swimmer if anything.
Jennifer studied him for a moment, as she decided how best to approach this. "Mr. Jackson," He frowned. "Something I rarely see in my patients is a complete lack of recreation. Idleness to be sure, but many of them have hobbies and things they do just for fun." She let him stew on that for a moment.
And then he answered with a sigh. "I don't actually know."
Jennifer Walters was speechless but had the decency not to show it. "Like you don't know what you find fun?"
Jackson nodded. "That and I haven't done anything that could be considered fun for…" A noticeable pause. "For a long time."
She deliberated as she schooled her features and flipped back to a fresh page in her notepad, scribbling as she looked at him, something she perfected a long time ago. He didn't seem all that perturbed at the oddness. "How long do you mean? A couple of weeks? A few months?"
He thought again, hesitating on his answer, absently massaging his leg as he did so. "About four… maybe five years? I think the only thing I consider fun is spending time with my mom and sister."
Jennifer stopped scribbling as she looked at him, resetting herself in the process. "I believe this gives us something to work on." She stated, taking a few more notes. She'd get back to her other questions in future sessions. He had, after all, booked for a session a week and for the next few months in advance so if needed, she may schedule an additional appointment on one of her Open Door Days or when she was at the VA hospital.
"You do?" At the very least that seemed to pull him from his stiff posture, relaxing ever so slightly. She made another note of that. Set a couple of goals with him. He did give off the impression that he was objective oriented.
"Yes. While we still have some time, let's discuss what you used to do for fun." She gestured for him to begin.
He frowned as if the concept of fun was something new to him though, after the moment of confusion, his eyes seemed to darken slightly. "Hang out with friends, play jokes and games with them?" He asked as if even he was unsure of the answer. "That's…pretty much it. Typical teenager stuff I would guess." Maybe it was the people he socialized with that was the answer here?
"And these friends…where are they now?"
At that, his expression did darken considerably, his posture simply slacking. "They're…not around anymore."
Jennifer swallowed but did make note of it, she would be a fool not to. Steering away from that subject for the time being, considering this is their first session, she cleared her throat before speaking again. "Tell me a few of the activities you used to do with them."
While his mood didn't immediately brighten, he did seem to push what he was thinking down as he spoke again. "Going out to eat, beach and lake parties. Rock climbing. Horse riding. Archery but I wasn't ever good at that."
"And what do you do to relax?"
"Relax?" The way he questioned it made it seem like the concept was foreign to him. There was a significant pause as he considered the question but eventually, he answered. "Nothing much really. Sit around on the beach, a forest sometimes but it's usually a beach."
Jennifer nodded. It wasn't much to work with, barebones in fact, but it was enough to get started. "Now what I want you to do, or work on, is to try a couple of these things that used to be fun. Maybe work out a list of things that sound fun to you and try them before our next session. I do recommend getting out there a bit more. Make some contacts at the beach or join some pick-up volleyball while you're there." She snapped her fingers. "I hear hiking-" His eye twitched. "is a good outdoors thing." She made note of it as she continued. "I was never a hiker myself but it is an option since you seem to like the outdoors."
After a moment of thought, he nodded. "I can do that. Sounds easy enough." His eyes flicked to the clock that was off to the side and then standing suddenly. She mentally frowned, she should have known that he would be counting the minutes. "I think that'll be all for today though. I have some things I have to do."
"Of course!" Jennifer stood as he did, escorting him to the exit. "Remember next week same time!"
And after escorting seeing him out, she breathed. Jackson was a handful but she had her fair share of unique cases from time to time.
This would be no different.
Percy drove home silently, picking up takeout on the way. Considering what he said for every question and hoping that Dr. Walters wasn't the particularly investigative type made the meeting a lot more draining than he had thought it would be.
There was only really one thing on his mind, what did he do for fun? At first, the question was, while surprising, easily dismissible. Percy had thought the doctor would just forget about it, mostly because he didn't have any concrete answer for it.
He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had honest fun that wasn't with his immediate family and even then, could that be considered fun? Whenever Estelle wanted Percy to play with her, he readily accepted. Whenever Sally wanted help with some innocuous thing or chore, it was done. He certainly enjoyed spending time with them and wouldn't trade it for the world but…was it…fun? He never went out of his way to play with Estelle and Sally only gave him what amounted to busy work. Certainly nothing that could be construed as fun.
So what did he do for fun? It had been years since he had any sort of meaningful break. The last one he could even vaguely remember was just after the Battle of Manhattan with the Camp celebrating its victory over the Titanomachy. Then his little siesta for two years, then dumped into another war and… the Pit…he and Annabeth were in there for a long time… By his estimate, that was at least twenty years since he had any sort of break, much less fun.
It was the Abyss though…so he could be off the mark by one or two decades, there was no reliable way to tell how much time had passed while stuck in there unless he wanted to chat up a shard of the Time Lord.
Percy thought about the question. He hadn't exactly lied when he said what he did for fun. Horse-riding and rock climbing were definitely fun when he did it way back when.
Except it was riding a pegasus and the rock climbing wall had lava flowing from it and other contraptions that made the experience much more deadly than anything considered normal. Archery was fun but he wasn't any good at it. If all else, annoying people with actual skill in it was where the fun was. Parties though…that had been fun. Percy hated them now. Too loud and crowded for his liking.
Maybe he would go horseback riding again. It's been a while since he had met up with Blackjack.
I wonder how that old guy is doing. Percy mused as he pulled into his home. With his questing life effectively over, Blackjack had gone into what he called retirement. It didn't help when Percy learned how to mist.
Though now that he thought about it, maybe that was for the better. Percy had always felt bad for calling Blackjack and using him like a cab, Blackjack probably didn't mind but the son of Poseidon certainly did. Maybe it would be good to just hang out from time to time.
It was peaceful but a notable tension surrounded his home. It didn't come from Allison as she had since left, returning to Olympus, her intense but generally informative schooling of the Asgardians over. He had thought the daughter of Athena would have more to share but apparently not. While Percy and Allison certainly weren't friends, the two weren't antagonizing each other anymore and they were a bit more amicable. It was likely, though, that neither would see the other again and that suited them just fine.
No, it came from someone who was arguably the least likely to cause problems among them.
Jane wanted to join the Avengers.
Her reasoning while sound, was incredibly naïve. She was inspired to do something with her strength after saving people from falling out of the sky and in her terms, 'to fight the bad guys of the world.' She had told him that she didn't need a reason to be a good person and help others. Which was fair, it was his own opinion, disregarding the Olympian decree, Percy needed a really good reason to involve himself. He had enough on his plate and adding mortal trouble to it would just be stupid.
Sif didn't seem to care much but she did reiterate that her duty was to Asgard first and foremost rather than Earth now that she was Asgardian.
However, Jane's decision did not go over well with Sally.
While the two weren't particularly close, Sally still liked Jane. It was kind of hard to get on his mom's bad side after all.
His mom, however drawing from her experience with him, had seen what overzealousness and rushing headlong into a problem could do. She had used him as a prime example.
Leaving at odd and abrupt times, the type of dangers posed, the decisions that were forced on him, the terrible choices he had to make, the stress and worry over whether he would come home, and the belief that he was dead. Sally had near blown up at Jane for thinking that it was something to aspire to.
Percy awkwardly poked at his food the entire time, even if he agreed. It was best that his mom didn't know the full extent of what he had been through.
It was an uncomfortable dinner that night and while it hadn't been spoken of again, Jane had easily and proactively stepped up her training, which was good. He didn't have to incentivize her or strongarm her into training.
He and Sif had a lengthy discussion about it. Down to brass tacks, Jane was under Percy's and Sif's protection and tutelage while on Earth. Anything Jane did, reflected on the two of them. While they cared little for what the mortals thought of them, Asgard and Olympus were a different story.
Despite being an adult able to make her own decisions. Regardless of what she wanted, Jane, as Valkyrie, had little to no autonomy when it concerned the outside world and Sif had made it clear that in the future when her training was determined to be sufficient, Valkyries reserved their concern for the Throne of Asgard and it alone. Lady Sif as the representative of King Odin, held the last decision whenever it concerned Jane.
That was disregarding Percy's involvement. As his ward, Percy was obligated to protect her from any and all threats to her person. If she was out and about trying to get herself killed, it meant that he would need to be on hand to intervene. He had better things to do than play babysitter.
And, in Percy's opinion, the less he had to do with the Avengers, the better.
He digressed. Throne Guardian or not, the fact of the matter was that Jane was not ready for what would be expected of her. In their fight with what Percy found out to be EXTREMIS soldiers, Sif attempted a trial by fire, but unfortunately, Jane's hand being held through it gave her an out. Something that would be rectified soon if Percy had any say. Jane may have the warrior instincts of an Asgardian, but it didn't matter if she refused to use them to their fullest extent.
He and Sif had an idea of how to proceed and it would be happening that night if things went well. Worst case scenario, Jane would hate him for the rest of her life. Actually no. The worst case was that Jane was going to die tonight but with him around and where they were going, the odds of that happening was like betting on the ocean drying up completely in the next minute.
Best case? Well, quite a few things, but best case scenarios tended to be a little more than hopeful wishing where he was concerned, so he wasn't counting on anything magnanimous happening. Regardless, he was going to break her refusal to kill whether she wanted it or not.
Entering his home and quickly beginning to eat, the moment he entered the kitchen, it wasn't long before Sif and Jane arrived in their usual casual clothes. Given that it was evening and a school night in Estelle's case, they had their first dinner without him. If he had to guess, Sally and Estelle were at some sort of event. His mom said something of that nature before he left.
He sensed that Calypso was out tending to her garden. In her case, she was getting bolder in leaving the house grounds and exploring Long Island by herself. She mentioned that she wanted to start a florist shop.
Percy had garnered a little more perspective after dying and his conversations with Queen Hera and Lady Ananke and decided that if he was going to do his duty to the Mortal Realm it would not be done with half-measures.
And so Percy, both begrudgingly and with relief, delegated his visits to the Titans and other previously imprisoned or exiled immortals to both camps due to his new duty. He couldn't exactly be everywhere and anywhere at once. He had his limits and since the gods, barring Zeus, were adamant about removing him from immortal affairs where feasible; he was thankful for the courtesy of giving him some form of reprieve, and he was going to take full advantage of it.
Olympus, by a slim margin and only due to practicality and reasonability, would become a little more lenient on those that were considered relatively peaceful and safe. A number of them were already doing whatever they wanted in the locations that served as their prisons but having it sanctioned was probably a good thing. Percy hadn't mentioned it before because he didn't see any harm or reason to make a fuss out of beings that were probably bored out of their minds.
Still, he would receive reports for every visit and may still be called to deal with the more hostile immortals, but now he wasn't traveling across the entire breadth and width of the western hemisphere every single year.
"Where'd you go? I didn't think it'd take this long to get Chinese." Jane spoke with a little surprise, pulling him from his thoughts as she did so, bumping his shoulder and snatching one of the takeout boxes and immediately digging in. Sif frowned at her casualness but didn't say anything as she also took a box of noodles. They may have already eaten dinner, but food was food where it concerned them.
Percy didn't say anything either. He doubted she'd want to bump his shoulder after tonight.
"Went to Manhattan actually. Was in the area and figured I should check up on a couple of things." He easily answered. He hadn't told them of his appointments and if he could avoid it, they would never know.
"You should have informed me so that I could accompany you," Sif growled through bites of her food, a noted annoyance in the words. "In case-"
Percy interrupted. "I'm fine Sif, really. I don't need an escort everywhere I go." He grumbled that last part. The Sword of Asgard had all the subtlety of a minotaur in a china shop. It had only taken him two days to wring her of the truth of why she was persistent on going everywhere with him. King Odin, in his scheming, had placed Sif not only as an envoy and trainer but also as a protector.
He guessed it was because he had the Aether but considering that the King of Asgard had given Percy near total control of his realm because he was testing Percy, it could be just about anything.
Sif didn't seem to care for his simple hand-waving of her duty, instead scoffing as she returned to her food. He knew she wouldn't let it go.
"So what were you in Manhattan for? Did you go to Olympus again?" Jane asked, her needling only a little annoying but he'd grown used to it by now.
Percy stared at her for a moment, chewing slowly as he did so. "Sure, let's go with that." He returned to his food, missing the frown from Jane. The snort of laughter from Sif wasn't so subtle but she wasn't trying to hide her amusement either.
They ate the rest of their meal in relative comfort and silence. There was another attempt at small talk by the mortal-turned-Asgardian, but neither of those present engaged her in much conversation, content as they were to focus on the food in front of them.
Now that he thought about it, and after being prodded by Dr. Walters, taking the time to enjoy his food was another thing he found relaxing. He supposed that ingesting inflamed gasoline in a literal hellscape for quite a long time would have that effect on anyone.
The trio sat in slightly awkward silence for another moment both Sif and Percy staring with intensive inquisitiveness at Jane that made her shrink into herself. If she had her wings, Percy could picture them closing in on her and then shielding herself.
"So Jane…" He began, electing to break the air. "How was your training today?" An innocuous question in any other circumstance but considering the way Percy and Sif were eyeing her, Jane was more than a little wary of answering him outright.
She cleared her throat before answering. "I'm still getting used to the handpicks but I think I'm getting the hang of it." She trailed off, unsure of the looks that continued to bore into her.
"Sif? You think she's any good?" Percy didn't take his eyes off the valkyrie. Jane looked annoyed that he didn't take her at her word.
"I would rather she trained more, but for now it is sufficient." The Sword of Asgard answered, not immediately and certainly in a reluctant tone, but her posture and narrowed eyes made it clear that Sif was also confident in what was about to occur.
"Sufficient for what?" Jane seemed a little more scared at their rather serious demeanor.
"Good, don't exactly want this to be a cakewalk," Percy remarked as he stood followed by Sif, absently willing a couple of tendrils made out of water to form and to quickly take care of the trash. There were no leftovers when demigods and Asgardians were involved.
"You don't want what to be a cakewalk?" Jane was growing increasingly concerned as she also stood abruptly, stumbling and almost tripping as she did so.
Percy stood in front of her. "Call your armor, we're going to go do something."
That seemed to calm her though not entirely. Percy's armor formed about him without another thought, sans the helmet though, Thyella sheathed at his side. Sif's appeared in conjunction with his, and she was also without her helmet.
"Do I need my helmet too?" She asked, and at his raised brow, did she begin to form her armor. It was still slow in his opinion. She didn't seem to be able to do it well while under pressure. Percy mentally sighed. Something to work on I guess. She did form her helmet, peeling it off after an awkward moment as the two continued to stare at her.
Percy offered his arms only a few moments later, Sif taking it while Jane still seemed unsure of this entire venture but took it just after Sif did.
Half-Blood Hill on his mind, Percy brought himself and the two Asgardians just outside of Peleus' more direct senses. Appearing out of thin air in front of an overprotective golden dragon wasn't the best idea. It was just past evening, with the sun setting, casting a hued and warm glow in the otherwise chilly air.
"Where are we?" Sif asked her brows furrowing. "It feels…odd." She tested the word.
"A camp," Percy said simply and gesturing for the two to follow, wanting instead to let them experience it themselves.
Jane hurried forward, a one-eighty to her previous hesitance. Percy guessed it was probably due to curiosity. Sif fell into step beside him.
"Is that a dragon?!" Jane near shrieked, her voice catching as Percy and Sif followed her pointed finger. Percy already knew it was Peleus she was talking about. "And what's that?" When she voiced the words, the golden dragon's head raised and looked at them in a challenging manner, his nostrils billowing a smoke.
"That's Peleus," Percy explained with a chuckle as he led them to the gleaming creature. The dragon was probably as large as Cerberus at this point and, if he remembered correctly, was still considered a child. A hyper-intelligent creature that was built like a tank that could fly and breathe fire, but a baby nonetheless. "And that's the Golden Fleece he's protecting. It's probably a good idea not to stare at it, the overgrown lizard can get possessive."
In answer to his words, the golden dragon blew a tuft of flame at the trio, Jane stumbling back into the brush and snow while Sif only took a couple of instinctual steps back. Percy stood his ground though as it stopped just short of him. While the fire was certainly capable of breaking his natural and developed resistance to heat as if it never existed in the first place, he knew that Peleus wouldn't actually harm him unless he tried to touch the Fleece.
Likely, the lizard got annoyed at his words and tried to scare him and put him in his place.
The snow melted and steam rose into the air. What unlucky plants that were in the jet of flames path were reduced to ash or instantly caught on fire. Percy waved his hand and a heap of snow that covered the trees showered over the few remaining embers.
Sif helped Jane out of the bank while speaking. "Is it wise to provoke it?" She did seem a little amused though.
Percy brought his arms upwards to rest on the back of his head, turning his back to Peleus who just snorted and went back to sleep. "Wise? Probably not. Is it fun? Yes." Jane grumbled something under her breath as the feathers on her cuirass poofed up in annoyance. "Come on." He waved them forward.
It was only a minute later did they crest Half-Blood Hill, the snow doing them no favors for their little trek.
"Woah." Jane breathed and even Sif seemed a little awe-struck. It wasn't Asgard or Olympus by any means but Camp Half-Blood was and always will be, his home away from home.
The cabins had long been rearranged from their U-shape, apparently, it was done a little after their victory over the Titans because of the influx of demigods and legacies. He hadn't seen the changes until after the war with the Gigantes. Instead of themed cabins, they looked more like large estate-style buildings with their interiors being even larger, Hecate's children had been extremely liberal with their use of space expansion spells. People still called them cabins but that was only habit at this point since they were anything but.
There was a soft blanket of snow on the ground as campers milled about, most likely coming from their own dinner. The strawberry fields were redone into a snowy field with various forts and snowmen dotting it and the frozen-over lake played host to an ice rink. Temporary seasonal adjustments, when spring rolled around, the fields would return to bearing fruit and the lake would be melted. He could see that the lake nymphs were skating about teaching younger campers.
Given that the year was just starting, and with winter break over, there shouldn't have been that many campers here but since the end of the war, a good majority of the demigod veterans decided that they wouldn't be returning to the mortal world and to instead enjoy an early retirement. Not that he blamed them, their long time away notwithstanding, not many had a life waiting for them outside the camp's borders other than school and an early gruesome death. Not something that any teenager would touch with a ten-foot pole, dying was also bad. He had heard that the Athena cabin had been turned into a school, but he wasn't entirely sure.
Percy didn't keep up to date on the goings on in camp given that he had spent a lot of the time after the war out and about beyond its borders and the time he did spend in camp was either eating or training Calypso. Neither of which required interacting with campers that would rather he didn't speak to them.
"Perseus?" Sif prodded, an odd look in her eyes as her brows knitted.
He blinked.
"Hmm?"
"I was just asking what this place is?" Jane asked in a concerned tone. "And asking if everyone here is a half-blood?"
Percy nodded, being pulled from his thoughts. "Camp Half-Blood, a sanctuary for demigods like me." He absently scratched his cheek as he thought. "I would say a little less than fifteen hundred with a few first-generation legacies sprinkled in."
"First-generation legacies?"
"Children of half-bloods. Not necessarily as powerful as we are but the ones that hang around here will have some sort of inherited ability or gift that forces them to stay here. Most others will have a lingering ability that makes them better than the average mortal but will go out into the mortal world."
"Better like Steve Rogers?"
"Who?" Percy cocked his head in confusion. The name sounded familiar.
"The mortal enhanced supersoldier on the Avengers." Sif clarified. Ah, right.
He thought for a moment and he began walking down the hill and into the camp, the two Asgardians following. "Depending on who they're descended from, potentially. If they're descended from a war god, I'd say that they are comparable, but I don't have much experience with either. All I know is that they inherit a fraction of strength and ability from their parents. It's a toss-up if it's worth anything when compared to demigods but I guess they'll stand out in the mortal world. It lessens as the generations go on." He paused his explanation. "Didn't Allison tell you about this?"
"She said that it's complicated." Sif offered with a cough into her hand. "I got lost in the explanation."
"Something about genetics but then saying that genetics don't really mean anything to gods?" Jane scrunched her eyes and then shrugged. "It was confusing."
Percy coughed into his hand as well. Immortals, genetics and family trees were not something he was going to get into.
The few campers that were lingering around, eyed them for a moment before returning to whatever they were doing. A few whispers were heard even from this distance. Apollyon.
He frowned but ignored them as best as he could.
"We're safe right?" Jane asked as she watched a few of the campers point at them. "We don't stand out that much do we?"
Sif was uncomfortable as her eyes flicked to him.
"We're safe." Neither Sif, Allison or Percy had told Jane what happened in the second Gigantomachy, only that it happened and was a sore subject for just about everyone in their world. It wasn't like Sif could say anything if she wanted. All she knew were stories and those she did know had a healthy amount of embellishment. His actions on Asgard though, his own words to her in her realm and what little details she gleamed, probably clued her into the fact that while victorious, Percy played a decisive if controversial role. "It's probably because you were plastered across every TV in the world." He lied. He doubted any of them actually cared, much less watched TV.
Jane stammered and flushed but couldn't come up with a retort.
He led them to the edge of a treeline. One all too familiar to him, even if some of it had been cleared away because of the war. He could see the faint depressions in the snow where trenches were dug, battlements built and traps placed from the Battle of the Labyrinth. It was makeshift but they were enough to help immensely in the fight.
"What are they doing?" Sif asked with a nod of her head.
Percy followed her gaze. A few demigods were milling about within the treeline though a little ways away from them. A couple of them were armored and armed standing over a table pointing at various places on a map, while another two were repeatedly glancing from the map to the treeline, pointing at various places. "I don't know." He muttered. Percy had told them that this night's patrol would be taken over by him.
They stood there for a moment. "Alright, Jane," Percy spoke suddenly, his voice much too casual for what he was about to say, causing the valkyrie to jump in her skin. "Your task is this, you're going to go in there." He tossed a thumb over his shoulder. "And you're going to go kill me a few monsters."
Jane stood gobsmacked at him for a moment as she looked between both Sif and Percy. "You're kidding, right? You don't actually expect me to do that, do you?"
Sif and Percy shared bland looks before the Sword of Asgard spoke, begrudgingly and with a formal tone that indicated that it was rehearsed. As was the plan. "It has come to my attention that your passiveness would inevitably prove to jeopardize the safety of those around you and those you are to protect." Sif began. "As your trainers, we intend to remedy this, immediately." At her flabbergasted look, she continued. Percy was content to observe until needed or when it was his turn. "As a part of the Valkyries, you are the King of Asgard's personal bodyguard and an instrument to do with as he wills. Should the King of Asgard take to the field of battle it will be on you to ensure his safety. Wounding, injuring or rendering unconscious is not what the Valkyrie do. You intend to kill with each and every swing, to brutalise and massacre the enemy until such a time that the King of Asgard's presence is deemed safe once again."
Jane looked between them both wildly as she stammered. He doubted she was looking for a defense. "Calypso doesn't fight! You don't say anything to her!" Percy was expecting that and it was easy to counter.
"There are quite a few differences between the two of you. For one, she doesn't want to join the Avengers, she'd rather relax and enjoy life rather than fight anyone. Secondly, there's a difference between wanting to fight and being capable of it. And as far as I know, you're not capable of it." He jabbed a finger at her. "If you don't want to do it, fine. I'll just send you back to Asgard and let King Odin deal with you. I can assure you that he won't be as lenient as I am being." Sif nodded but Percy wasn't done. "You need to choose if you're going to be Jane the mortal or Jane the Asgardian. You choose to be a mortal? Then say it, I don't have the patience or time to babysit you. You choose to be an Asgardian? Then be an Asgardian. If you want to be an Avenger or hero or whatever the hell you want to call yourself, then be ready to do what's needed."
Jane was silent, glaring at the both of them, but primarily Percy before she looked downwards, clenching her hands hard enough that he could just barely see the whites in her knuckles. It was a solid minute until Jane responded, her voice low and biting. "And you just want me to go in there and kill monsters?"
"They'll drop something. A tooth, claw or if you're lucky, a weapon. Bring that here, and I'll know that you did it."
"Fine." She bit out as she stomped into the woods.
"If you reach the big pile of boulders, you're in the center of the forest!" He called out to her but she didn't stop.
Percy and Sif stood silent for a moment. "She'll be safe, correct?" Sif asked hesitantly.
"That forest is full of dryads and other nature spirits, they'll keep an eye on her and intervene if necessary." He had already spoken to them earlier. If needed, he'd call the whole camp to arms. "If you'd like we can go to the pavilion and wait there?"
Sif was silent before answering. "I will remain here." Percy nodded and stood beside her, the both of them relaxing slightly. They stood in silence for the most part, with only the shifting of their postures being what made noise around them, content to simply wait. Sif spoke, breaking it. "Are you sure this is a wise course of action?"
Percy considered it for a moment before responding as he stared into the darkening forest. The sun was well and truly setting as torches of everlight were beginning to be lit around the camp like streetlamps. "No, but I'd rather she hate me than be pissed at the both of us." Had Chiron been here, he would've thought of something better. "She'll, hopefully, listen to you, if the alternative is having to listen to me." It was good but an annoyance that Jane wanted to refrain from killing. An inspiration really but that's not what a Valkyrie was supposed to be. Pushing and forcing her over that line now in a controlled setting would be better than having to confront any issues that should arise if it happens on a battlefield.
They had deliberated hard on how to proceed. Sif wasn't a trainer. The Sword of Asgard knew this but encountering the hurdle that was Jane's incapability to kill, was not something that she had ever before experienced. 'A concept entirely foreign and alien to Asgardians.' She had said. Her people weren't bloodthirsty but they were certainly all comfortable with taking a life should the need arise.
Percy wasn't trainer material either. His manner was too rough and direct to be considered conducive to training others and was what probably pushed Jane into this mess in the first place. There was nothing quite like experiencing first-hand how visceral and extreme someone could be. She had front-row seats to how he tore Malekith apart and how he very nearly killed Stark. Percy figured Jane seeing that had not endeared her to the life of a warrior even if she wanted to be an Avenger.
However, what he lacked in skill and finesse, Percy more than made up for in efficiency and the mentality needed. His solution to Jane not wanting to kill? Throw her into a situation where she had no choice. A trial by fire. He had to break her from thinking like she was still a regular person and not an Asgardian. The son of Poseidon figured exposure to monsters would help. Jane thought them different when they really weren't. Jane was about to find out that these monsters could be just as intelligent as people.
He was pulled from his thoughts when a demigod came jogging up to him, behind him were two others, though they were armored in what looked to be leather and armed with spears and shields, no helmets though. Judging from the roguish blonde hair and relatively bright eyes, Percy deduced that this was a Son of Hermes and if the wide-eyed expression of awe was any indication a bit on the newer side of those that came to camp. None of the veterans of the Giant War looked at him like that, apathy and begrudging respect was about the best he could expect from them. The other two weren't so awestruck but wary, he deduced one to be the son of some war deity judging by the closely cropped military cut of his hair while the other looked to be a daughter of Demeter if the earthen braid was any clue combined with the softer grass green eyes.
"What do you want, kid?" He asked as Percy turned his head. Sif looked on in curiosity.
The boy visibly gulped but didn't appear all that winded. "Uh…you're Apollyon, right?" Percy's eye twitched. "The counselors wanted to talk to you, privately. They're at the Big House." He gestured to the two that followed him. "They're here to…uh…stand…I guess… with your lady friend."
He looked back to Sif. "You alright here?" She nodded.
"Alright kid, I'm on my way. Name's Jackson by the way." Percy turned back to the son of Hermes who only nodded and jogged away back towards the Big House.
The son of Poseidon sighed as he followed at a more sedate pace. His stiff leg notwithstanding, Percy didn't have the desire to run after him.
There were more whispers and near-hidden pointed fingers. He ignored them but he did take note that the few children of Athena that crossed his path glared at him or spat on the ground. He didn't visibly respond nor rise to the bait. They have a right, more than anyone, to hate me.
It wasn't a long walk to the Big House and already he could tell something was up. Most, if not all, of those present, were veterans of the Giant War which wasn't surprising since they were the oldest, most experienced of their number and were easy picks to be counselors for their respective cabins. There were also several other demigods there as well, seemingly wanting to know what was going on.
But the most glaringly obvious thing that told him that something was going on, was that Lord Dionysus was not there. Percy had just spoken to him in the morning and he didn't give any indication that there was something big going on. Barring Aphrodite, if there were any among the Olympians that liked to gossip, it was Dionysus. Percy could never guess if it was because he was the God of Wine or if it was because he was a glorified babysitter and had nothing better to do with his time.
"What's up?" Percy was still in his armor and while he knew that none of them would attack him, he felt more comfortable in it. The daggers being bored into him by Malcolm Pace's eyes didn't earn them his confidence.
"We need you to deliver a message to Olympus." Malcolm bit out at him. The hairs on the back of Percy's neck stood, his hand slowly coming to a rest on the handle of Thyella. His mind instantly came to the conclusion of rebellion before he stopped himself from any rash action. None of the other counselors looked particularly tense or even fearful but the energy of excitement was there. In fact, Percy was the only one armed and armored. "And may I ask what this message is about?"
"We want to build a Greek city."
Percy's mind quite possibly blanked at that moment. "Excuse me? Did I hear that right? It sounded like you said you wanted to build a city."
"You heard right, Jackson," Malcolm spoke slowly as if he were stupid. "We want to build a city, more specifically, turn Camp Half-Blood into New Athens."
"Okay back up, what brought this on?"
At that, the crowd seemed to split and on the porch where Lord Dionysus would sit was a daughter of Apollo if he remembered correctly. She was tired but that was immediately understandable given the fact she held two newborn children in her arms. He couldn't remember a baby being born in Camp, in fact, he couldn't remember if it had ever even happened before.
They're building their families here.
"What do you need from me?" Percy's voice was resolute.
The meeting that ensued took the better part of the evening. Regardless of their excitement and desire to begin as soon as possible, Percy wanted to do this right. He didn't have any experience in city management or administration, his domain was running an army and winning the wars they fought and while some experience was probably transferrable, it was better left in the hands of those that wanted and knew what they were doing.
What he did have experience in was mediation and negotiation, even if it was a bit on the side of strong-arming people into doing what he wanted. Percy knew he couldn't do that here. He couldn't just ask for something like this and be granted it. He needed to explain to them why and present a convincing argument. He needed every scrap of detail, all their plans, all their reasons, how this would be accomplished and so on.
Even then, this evening wouldn't be close to enough to iron out all of the details and Percy would be returning in the coming days and weeks to help prepare everything for the eventual proposal to the Olympian Council. The mortal world and SHIELD would just have to wait until he secured his friends and family first.
Without Chiron, it fell to him to act as a direct liaison between camp and Olympus and Mr. D certainly wasn't going to do it.
Percy quickly concluded that the Wine God's opinion would probably be too biased that he would be forced to recuse and abstain from any vote that took place. After all, if a city was built, it would only serve to solidify that his presence there was no longer required. Not that he did anything of note while in camp anyway, but it was still his punishment and Wine God be inclined to agree to whatever helped him out of it.
"-want to organize how many peop-" Malcom was interrupted when the Big House's door was slammed open to reveal a pissed off Jane covered in dirt and brush, with a bleeding bandaged gash on her arm, blood was sprayed across her normally white feathered cuirass, followed by Sif who looked torn between letting her pride show, general concern and from letting her neutral exterior be broken. Jane stood in front of him before tossing a trio of glossy ebony claws onto the table and then promptly storming out. Sif nodded at him before following the irate valkyrie.
Harpy Claws. Percy mentally shrugged but didn't otherwise display any outward reaction and gestured for Malcolm to continue. He didn't particularly care that Jane was angry at him. Whatever got the job done and pushed her further, he was fine with employing.
Malcolm's narrowed gaze watched the interaction for a moment before continuing. "As I was saying, we want to organize how many people…"
It was a long evening and the trip home was done in absolute silence.
'Wild fury and righteous anger stirs up the hearts of men. Driving them to action, to battle, to fight. Hopefully, it's tempered with the code, with the order. Fury must be kept in check, and be used to propel justice, to free the oppressed, to protect."
-Josh Hatcher
And that marks the formal introduction of Jennifer Walters, who in this story/universe is a psychologist/therapist rather than the usual attorney/lawyer gig. Considering the trope of twisted irony and how a lot of myths and legends play into that, and my own love of it, I thought it would fit nicely for her to be a therapist. Plus, I wanted to play into Bruce and Tony's little therapy session in the after credits scene of Iron Man 3.
As a side note, I haven't seen the MCU TV show, She-Hulk. My knowledge of her comes from the comics but as you can see, this character won't be from there either.
Was going to include a scene for Jane's fight but decided against it. I don't think I would've done it justice how evocative it is for someone in Jane's circumstances to kill (or rather violently draw blood) even if it is a monster. Keep in mind, she was previously mortal, a scientist and above all someone that's torn between two worlds with extremely differing ideals and cultures. Just something to think on and how her interactions with Percy and Sif are painted moving forward.
On that note, (and as always), you can find me on the Emerald Library Discord! It's a fantastic place to interact with other writers and readers where we just chill and chat about ideas, future works and generally just have a good time! Due to popular request, A Calm in the Storm will feature the original 9 chapters for Of Water and Salt! You can find the update schedule for that as well as for Of Water and Salt on the Emerald Library in my channel pins!
The link to that is on my profile!