By the end of the next day, academic improvement was the least of Percy's concerns.
"I don't want to move," he repeated desperately, itching to hit something despite himself. He wished there was a monster nearby, something big and stupid to bait into giving him a fight. "They're stupid, they suck, I'm gonna- I'll block the door with an armchair until they eff off. Screw them."
Sally surrendered a slightly wet laugh, rubbing at her face, and Percy's heart wrenched at the look on her face. "Well, that's one way of handling it," she said without looking at him.
Percy bit his lip. "Can we do anything?" he asked, voice wavering a little.
How come it was always the stupid mortal stuff that made him feel helpless?
Sally took a deep breath. "I know he made a bad impression on you. But I'm going to call Foggy, alright? He's a lawyer, he might be able to help."
Percy crossed his arms, scowled, and nodded at the ground. Sally made the call from the other room, and Percy flopped down and played on his old DS, trying to pretend that nothing was going on. There were no veiled threats, no fatal flaws, and no evil cruise ships. Sally spoke on the phone, and phrases drifted into the living room, coercion and violation of property laws and legal rights.
It was getting dark by the time Sally returned, and Percy pushed himself upright, watching her anxiously. She smiled at him, not quite hiding the worry in her eyes, and said, "We're having a bit of an impromptu meeting in the law office. I hope you don't mind. I'll help you pack an overnight bag."
"That doesn't sound good," Percy said, the worry slipping out before he could stop it. He turned off his game before she could reply, rolling off the couch to do as he was told.
Both of them were quiet as they got ready to go. Percy tried to remember a time when they'd been on the verge of losing their home before. He couldn't. Stinking trash heap that he was, Smelly Gabe's income had at least been enough to make rent payable, and they'd never moved either. It had always been the only stability in between boarding schools.
Sally drove them to the law office through the rain, and Percy drew pictures on the fogged-up window, rubbing condensation away with his thumb.
"Come on, Percy," Sally murmured, grabbing her bag to get out of the car. Percy slung his backpack over his shoulder and followed, and the second trip down to the law office was somehow worse than the first.
He ended up sitting in the same corner as the day before, resentment and frustration churning in his belly as he listened to the others talk. Foggy said that it wasn't safe to stay, mentioned a 'Mrs. Cardenas' with grief in his voice, talked about other places they could go to wait it out. Among the rest of the terms, Percy picked up a nugget of actual information.
It was Wilson Fisk's fault that he and his mom were being forced out of their apartment.
"What can we do?" Sally asked, with steely calm.
"Safest thing is to take the carrot and run," Foggy said, apologetic. He was holding Sally's hand, like he was trying to reassure her.
"But we're already in the process of taking down Fisk," Matt inserted firmly. "If you can just wait that out, you'll be able to go home."
"Would that be weeks or months?" Sally asked.
"Weeks," Foggy said, at the same time that Matt said,
"Days."
Foggy shot Matt a look. "I'm making a face at you, Murdock. That's- ridiculously optimistic, even for you. There's no way. Not even with your extracurriculars"
"Foggy?" Sally pressed.
Foggy sighed. "We've got some stuff on him," he conceded after a moment. "And Matt's been... digging."
The more he heard, the more Percy wanted to throw something and scream. It was so stupid. Nico was running around the countryside all by himself, and Kronos was crawling out of Tartarus, and they were two years away from when Percy would hold the fate of the world in his hands... and they were worrying about some rich guy that wanted to build condos.
Percy didn't want to wait weeks or months to go home.
He snapped his game shut. Sally immediately looked over at him, concerned.
"Going to the bathroom," he muttered, standing up.
Sally didn't look convinced, but all she said was, "Be careful and hurry back."
Percy nodded, and then went out the door. Instead of heading toward the bathroom, though, he turned through the halls until he found his way out of the building, spinning Riptide in his fingers.
It was still raining outside. The water settled on his skin, cool and calming, and sent strength and confidence through him in tendrils. A few feet around him in every direction, scattered droplets and puddles writhed, coming together and breaking apart like a fist clenching in anger.
He picked a direction, walked until he found a sufficiently seedy-looking character, and stopped a few feet away. The man was almost a foot taller than Percy, but he didn't feel anything but icy anger beating through his veins.
"Hey," Percy heard himself say. "Where can I find Wilson Fisk?"
The man's expression started off disdainful, but it changed when he looked up at Percy. It was hard to say exactly what he was seeing, but he took an alarmed step back, eyes locked on Percy's hands.
"That's a dangerous question to ask, kid," the man said, quiet and rough. "A knife ain't gonna save you from the types he's got on payroll."
Huh. Percy glanced down at Riptide, still in pen form, and then back up at the man. His heart was pounding in his chest, adrenaline making him reckless and impulsive. "Whatever. Can you tell me where or not?"
The man raised his hands in surrender. "I don't know nothing. Swear it."
A frustrated sound pulled itself out of Percy's chest, and he walked past the man without another glance, moving on down the street. A few blocks later, he found another guy to ask. Then another. His rage built into a high-pitched whine in his head, urging him to walk faster, push harder. One of these guys had to know where Wilson Fisk was.
A few were able to point him in the direction of people that worked for Fisk, which was close enough, and then Percy was able to catch an actual trail. It led him off the street and into a couple of warehouses, and that was when his blind luck ran out.
Or maybe it kicked in. This was more or less what Percy wanted, after all.
"You've drawn a lot of attention to yourself very quickly, Mr. Jackson."
A door slammed, and Percy tensed and turned around. There was only one person in the room with him, a businessman type, looking at him with a deceptively mild expression.
"Yeah, I'm good at that," Percy said after a moment. He tugged experimentally at his surroundings, and felt the water in the pipes respond. "You work for this Fisk guy, right? I want to talk to him."
Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump. It probably wasn't healthy for his heart to beat this hard.
"I'd gathered," the man said, taking a few steps toward him. He looked perfectly composed, even apathetic; he looked like a fucking asshole. "Do you suppose a knife will be enough to intimidate him into giving into your demands?"
"I was thinking a sword," Percy said, following the man's movements. It felt oddly like facing a monster, albeit one of the more human-shaped ones. Like Crusty, maybe.
"Very funny, Mr. Jackson. I'll give you credit for your nerve." The man stopped closer to Percy, and lifted one side of his jacket, just enough to reveal the gun inside. Percy's heart skipped a beat. "But I'm afraid this isn't a playground fight. Mr. Fisk will be building the world he wants, whether you agree to it or not."
Hatred curled in Percy's chest, edged with the sort of frustrated hysteria that had driven him so far. "Why doesn't he come face me himself, then?"
"He does have better things to do than handle teenage miscreants," the man said. "I'll be blunt. You are a child. You have no power to affect this one way or another. Your options, then, are to either stop making trouble for yourself and others, or else see certain unwanted aspects of your own history return to police attention."
Percy translated that as: shut up or get used to orange jumpsuits.
"Guess a guy like you is used to people showing their bellies when they see that gun under your suit," Percy said. "Or did you mean to show me your wallet instead?"
The man smiled mirthlessly, eyes blank and cold, but whatever he was going to say next was lost: something smashed, and the lights went out. Percy immediately fell back, making space between himself and the stranger, and a shadow seemed to fall from the ceiling. There was a loud and violent scuffle, and one gunshot, followed by the sound of a gun skidding across the ground.
Percy hid around the corner, but within a few more minutes, the sounds slowed to a halt. He could hear someone breathing heavily.
"That was a reckless thing you did, kid," someone said at last, a man with a voice Percy recognized but couldn't place. He peeked around, seeing a shadow of a figure wearing a mask. "You could get yourself killed throwing that name around."
Percy swallowed, breathing hard, and then said, "It takes more than some business jerk with a legal team to scare me."
"Heh." He thought he saw the shadow of a smile, but maybe it was Percy's imagination. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. You alright?"
"Yeah," Percy said. "Don't worry. I can hold my own in a fight."
"I believe it. You seem unusually seasoned for your age. Battle training?"
"Uh-huh. Best in my summer camp with- um, with my weapon."
The masked man snorted. "You got your battle training at a summer camp?"
Percy smiled. "It's a weird camp." Unable to resist, he tacked on, "Ancient Greece themed."
"You were serious about the sword?"
"Brutally." Percy meant it, too.
The man barked a laugh, short and incredulous, and shook his head. "Go home. Your mom is worried about you."
Percy hesitated, watching the silhouette, and then nodded stiffly. His eyes dropped to the limp form on the ground, bleeding from a head wound. He wondered who the hell the guy was supposed to be.
But. One way or another, he'd lost today's chance.
"Thanks," he muttered, and then darted out the door and down the street.
He wasn't sure exactly how long he'd been gone, but he found his way back to the law office and slipped inside. He couldn't miss the way his mother relaxed instantly, sighing. Foggy, oddly, looked a little relieved as well- but tense too, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Is everything alright, Percy?" Sally asked. Percy huffed and dropped into his chair, crossing his legs with a scowl.
"Peachy," he muttered. Except for the fact that their apartment still wasn't safe, and nothing was okay.
Sally's eyes darted over him with concern, and he realized with a wince that yeah, obviously she'd thought that he'd gone for a monster. Gods knew that happened often enough too. He kicked the ground.
He looked up when the door opened, and frowned when he realized it was Matt, looking as mild as ever. There was a red mark on one of his cheeks that hadn't been there earlier. Foggy sighed in relief.
"Did you find what you needed, Matt?" Sally asked. Matt gave her a small smile as he crossed over to sit carefully down in his own seat.
"Just about," he agreed. Percy frowned harder. There was something bugging him about Matt's voice. "If you don't mind, I'd like to keep a record of the coercion that they've already applied-"
Since their apartment wasn't safe, Sally and Percy spent the night at Foggy's – a vaguely clean place with reasonably good lighting, a window with a stellar view of a dumpster, and the sound of construction constantly shaking the room. It didn't smell like old sweat or rotten food, which Percy guessed was good enough for a night, no matter how much he resented it.
He perched on the arm of the couch, where he could keep an eye on the door, and ate his pizza mechanically. His attention was elsewhere, mostly caught up in his mangled attempt to track Wilson Fisk down, but a sudden sound make him focus on his surroundings again.
He wasn't able to figure out exactly what the sound had been, but it drew his attention to Foggy and Sally anyway.
"He has a lot on his mind, that's all," Sally said softly. It wasn't difficult to figure out who she was talking about. Her eyes were weary, her fingers tracing aimlessly across Foggy's thigh while she leaned against his shoulder. His fingers carded through her graying hair. "I don't want him to have to worry about things at home too. It's too much to explain right now, but... trust me. He needs the safe space."
"Hey." Foggy tapped her temple gently, giving her a small, crooked smile. "It's okay, I get it. Some people have a little more trouble feeling safe than others. Trust me, I've known Matt for years, I know all about it." Sally laughed quietly. "My apartment's more bachelor pad than the cozy little place you and your son made, but it's good enough for me."
Oh. Sally must be explaining to Foggy that he wasn't allowed to come to their apartment for a while. Despite himself, Percy relaxed a little, relieved the rule was still in place.
"And you're welcome anytime," Foggy added seriously. "Not just when there's an emergency. Alright?"
Sally kissed him on the cheek in lieu of a response, and Percy licked the grease off his fingers and dropped his gaze from the other two, softening despite himself. Sally didn't have a lot of people to share her worries with. Percy thought that most of the time she kept them locked up until she forgot they were there, stifling her breath.
A few minutes after that, Sally made eye contact with Percy and waited for his nod before excusing herself to take a shower, leaving him and Foggy on opposite ends of the couch. Percy slumped down and spun Riptide between his fingers, determinedly not looking at Foggy.
Foggy cleared his throat.
"So," he said awkwardly. "How are you dealing with... things?"
After a moment of contemplation, Percy twisted in place to meet Foggy's eyes. He considered the man for a moment, and then asked, "What were you and Matt fighting about?"
Foggy flinched, but Percy didn't look away, too jittery and frustrated to feel bad about jabbing the obvious sore spot. Emotions flashed across Foggy's face – frustration, regret, resentment – before they evened out again, becoming almost unreadable.
"I found out Matt's been keeping a pretty big secret from me," Foggy said at last, surprising Percy – he'd expected to be told to butt out. "I mean, a big one, like, it's gonna get him hurt, and he's gonna take me and Karen down with him, and he didn't say anything."
Percy clenched his jaw and glared as Foggy's voice rose slightly, though he was surprised to see the man take a deep breath, forcing his voice to drop back to a softer level.
"Matt and I have been friends for a long time, and I tell him everything," Foggy said quietly. "Kind of sucked to find out he didn't feel the same."
Percy rolled that over in his head and scowled down at Foggy, uncharitably annoyed.
"You've never had a real secret in your life, have you?" Percy asked bluntly. Foggy wrinkled his nose.
"The hell's that supposed to mean?"
"A real secret," Percy repeated, fiddling with Riptide. "I mean- the kind that happens to you. It's not about what you want anymore, with those. You keep your mouth shut, or sooner or later someone's gonna shut it for you."
Foggy was staring at him, and instead of annoyance, there was something like concern on his face. "What kind of secret happens to you?"
"I dunno," Percy muttered uncomfortably. "You see something you shouldn't have. Something happens but you can't prove it, or you'll get punished if you tell someone. You find out something by accident, but someone else will get hurt if you tell."
He shrugged. Percy knew all about secrets that could get people hurt.
Foggy was still looking at him with an odd amount of worry. "You sound like you're talking from experience."
"Duh," Percy said.
Foggy kept staring, but Percy kept his mouth shut and spun Riptide faster. It was none of Foggy's damn business anyway. After a while, Foggy sat back in a way that signaled the end of the conversation, and Percy held back a sigh of relief.
"Alright," Foggy said. "I'll think about cutting Murdock some slack."
"I don't care," Percy muttered. "As long as you don't yell at Mom anymore."
Foggy grinned at him, like after that last conversation he thought they had some kind of understanding. "You care about your mom a lot, don't you?"
"Yeah," Percy said, in the same 'duh' tone he'd used before. "Only a moron wouldn't."
"Sweetest woman I've ever met, is Sally," Foggy agreed, with a slightly goofy smile. "Reminds me of my mom, actually – I bet she adopts all your friends, right? Especially if any of them don't have good homes of their own."
Percy faltered, nearly dropping Riptide on the next spin, and after a moment he nodded. Annabeth, Tyson, Thalia, Grover – Sally never hesitated to welcome any of them into their home. Even before that, when their time alone was restricted to trips to the park or the mall, Percy's friends had always been welcome.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Foggy asked randomly. Percy frowned at him, and Foggy leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. "I've always wanted to be that person too."
Startled, Percy let out a snort, and was surprised to realize he was actually smiling now. "What, that adopts everyone?"
"Yep," Foggy said. "Nelson caretaking instinct. No getting rid of it. I always say, no holiday is complete without at least three sad orphans coming in from the cold. Matt's been a part of my family's Christmas list basically since we met." He paused. "Come to think of it, I need to invite Karen too. She hasn't mentioned any plans, at least."
As Percy watched, Foggy grabbed his phone from his pocket, swiped through, and started texting. After only a minute, he hit send, frowned, and then repeated the process with a different contact.
"Need to remind Matt he's invited too," Foggy muttered. "Sad sucker manages to think he's uninvited every year even though it's never happened." He set his phone down and looked up at Percy, seemingly guileless. "Hey, since we're on the topic-"
"You brought it up," Percy said.
"-I wanted to ask," Foggy continued relentlessly. "Would you and Sally want to come? She and I haven't talked about it yet, and I figure her answer is gonna be conditional on yours anyway."
Percy stayed quiet for a bit, watching Riptide spin.
Christmas had always been kind of... difficult. Most years, Sally had woken him up really early in the morning so they could enjoy it together before Gabe ruined it. And even then, he'd still found ways – making Percy return his gifts one year, outright breaking Sally's another, demanding all of Sally's attention for the whole day. Percy had gotten hit more than once for taking up Sally's time when Gabe wanted it.
And then there had been last year, when it was just the two of them in their new apartment. They'd opened presents in the morning, left them sitting out around the tree, and watched movies through most of the day. It was one of the best days that Percy could remember.
Somehow, though, he didn't think it would be quite the same the second time around, when the rush of freedom wasn't so fresh. Neither Percy nor Sally usually thrived in the quiet.
"Mom and I have secrets too," Percy said at last, instead of answering. "The kind that get people hurt. You gonna pitch a fit about it?"
Foggy looked like he'd been smacked, and the expression soon melted into consternation. "I don't suppose you're telling."
"It's none of your business," Percy said flatly. "Get used to it."
Foggy rubbed his forehead, and Percy was bracing himself by the time Foggy finally said, "Fine. I don't like it, but fine. Is it going to hurt my family?" Percy shook his head. Monsters didn't go after mortals. "Then you're still invited. Jesus. Matt's always trying to find reasons I don't want him home for the holidays too."
Percy surprised himself by flashing a smile. "Things are just complicated for some people."
"Yeah, and some people insist on making them more complicated than they have to be," Foggy muttered.
"That what I think it is?" Natasha asked, narrowing her eyes at the footage looping on the television. Steve nodded, a small frown slashing across his face.
A boy, about fifteen, stalking down a street with all the conviction of a young god. Water rippled out in violent waves from every step he took, and rain swirled like a cyclone around him. Without any apparent effort, the storm was bowing to him.
"That's a son of Poseidon if I ever saw one," he said. "And a strong one too, if he's presenting to that extent at his age. Makes sense, if he's the first one in a century."
"Wait, wait, hold on," Sam frowned, leaning forward for a closer look. "What do you mean, a son of Poseidon? We've got Greek gods running around with the Norse? And is Thor going to be making little babies that throw off lightning?"
"Yes and no," Tony answered for them, snapping his tablet shut. "You've got the right idea, but you need to amp it up by like, a factor of ten. Thor's a great guy and all, love that guy, but he's got about the strength of a Greek demigod. This kid? From the look of things, definitely closer to Thor's level than Thor's kids."
Sam turned his attention on Tony, studying him for a moment with a furrowed brow, and then looked at Steve, quirking up an eyebrow expectantly. Steve gave him a slightly sheepish smile back.
"Greek gods have been around a lot longer than Norse ones," Steve explained, "so they're a little more... ethereal, I guess. Definitely a lot stronger. Closer to what you'd actually imagine a god to be like." He nodded at the screen. "They've got a lot of kids running around – children of Ares, Demeter, Aphrodite. But a son of Poseidon – that's worrying. Stark, any word?"
"I haven't been back to camp in a while," Tony admitted. "He must have popped up in the last couple of years."
"Clint hasn't either," Natasha said. "Not since Luke Castellan's quest went south."
Sam snapped his fingers twice, catching their attention again. "Why is it worrying for there to be a son of Poseidon?" he asked patiently.
"Well, for one thing, Big Three kids are hideously powerful," Tony said, and at Sam's look, amended, "Children of Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades. A moderately powerful son of Poseidon can redirect rivers and form lakes, and this kid looks a bit stronger than average. And then there's..." He grimaced.
"What?" Sam prompted, a little less patiently.
"There's a prophecy," Steve picked up, frowning at the image on the screen, now frozen. An adolescent boy, face set in a vicious scowl, with the water contorted around him like a twister. "I never heard the entire thing, but the next demigod child of a Big Three god is supposed to herald a conflict. A big one. Maybe the big one, as far as the Greeks are concerned."
"And... you believe this?" Sam asked dubiously.
"Greek prophecies are never wrong," Tony said, glancing over at him. "I know it sounds wishy-washy, especially if you're new to the Greek world, but trust me. They might not be helpful, but they're never wrong."
"Uh huh," Sam said, in a voice that clearly projected his lingering doubt. But there was no uncertainty as he continued, "And what are we gonna do about this kid?"
"I can make a house call," Natasha said. "Stark, can you find us a name?"
"Already done," Tony said, flicking the windows from his tablet into the air in front of him. "Perseus Jackson, fourteen, mother Sally Jackson, no father on record. Diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia as soon as he entered the system, kicked out of every school he's ever attended, plenty of tangles with the law under completely bizarre circumstances. Practically has 'demigod' stamped all over his file."
"I feel like I might be a little out of the loop," Sam complained.
"You are," Natasha agreed. "Don't worry. We'll catch you up."