Once Brett left, it became clearer why Foggy had come. There was paperwork. There was so much paperwork, and the sketch artist, and things that they wanted Percy to read and before long he was jittering uncomfortably, ready to burst out of his skin if it got him out of this station faster.
Sally weathered it better than he did, but she looked harried and anxious, and Foggy guided her through most of the paperwork, explaining what each piece was for and what the legal jargon meant. Still, it was getting dark by the time they left, and Percy's stomach was grumbling.
Foggy checked his phone on their way down the street. "Karen contacted Ben Urich to cover the story for us," he said, sounding pleased with this news and not looking tired at all. "It's after hours, but he's interested enough that he's willing to meet us at the office so he can beat the other reporters to it."
"What?" Percy asked plaintively. Foggy winced.
"Oh, shit, you're exhausted, aren't you?"
"Ergh." Percy reached up and rubbed his face, then replayed Foggy's words in his mind. "You want me to talk to a reporter about what happened? Tonight?"
"We can do it tomorrow if you need," Foggy said, eying Percy with an odd amount of concern. "But tonight is definitely better. If Ben gets the story out first, he'll be able to set the tone for everyone else."
Percy looked up at Sally. Sally smiled at him ruefully. "Up to you, sweetheart."
"I can do it tonight," Percy said decisively. "Can we grab food on the way, though?"
There was a new man in the office by the time they got there, a Black man who was quietly chatting with Karen, brow wrinkled with far more than a day's worth of stress. His eyes glimmered with recognition when they landed on Percy.
"Percy," the man greeted, and then, unexpectedly, "Are you a fidgeter?"
"...Yeah?" Percy answered, confused. The man tossed him something, and Percy caught it on instinct, looking at it as he sat nearby. Some kind of chain-link toy.
"Ben Urich," the man introduced, drawing Percy's attention back to him. "Over the years I've found that some people open up better if they've got something to do with their hands. How old are you, Percy?"
"Fourteen," Percy said, and instinctively started to twirl the chain-link toy, making the moving parts roll over and over.
"Your mother will need to be present for the interview then," Ben said. "Is that alright?" Percy nodded, and Ben gave him the start of a weary smile. "You understand what we're trying to do with this story?" Percy made a so-so motion. "That's fine. Don't worry about trying to spin it. That's my job. Thank you," he added, when Sally passed him his food.
It wasn't as hard as Percy had expected it to be. Ben was an old reporter, and clearly had a bag of tricks to draw from; Percy could almost see him picking them out, going from tactic to tactic. Foggy and Matt had withdrawn to a side room to work, but Karen was watching avidly, like an understudy; Percy wondered if she'd rather be a reporter than a secretary. His hands worked the toy absently, keeping him from getting too frustrated with the stillness, like he had at the station.
They covered the basic facts first: the man that had come to demand that Sally move, Percy's attempt to find Fisk and the help from the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, and finally the grand finale, the kidnapping.
Then Ben started to ask about Percy's background, brow pinched with focus as he thought writerly thoughts about how to form the article.
"Does it matter?" Percy asked warily, when Ben asked how he and Sally had made their apartment home. Ben gave him a small, understanding smile.
"It'll help build a more vivid image of your situation," Ben explained. "And in turn it will make Fisk seem more of a villain for having antagonized you."
Percy guessed that made sense. He frowned down at the toy and tried to find a place to start, and after a while, Ben suggested,
"Why don't you describe your apartment to me?"
So Percy did, and found that that was easier. He told Ben that there were dirty clothes and forgotten papers everywhere, but never any old food or trash bags. No one was allowed in Percy's room unless he let them in, and there was a scented candle in the bathroom. The walls had been a boring off-white when they'd gotten it, and they'd painted most of them blue.
"Why blue?" Ben asked, and Percy smiled.
"It's our color," he said. "Mine and Mom's." Ben gestured for him to go on, and Percy got a little embarrassed. He glanced at Sally, and she made the same encouraging motion, expression soft. "One time Mom and Smelly Gabe had an argument- uh, Mom was explaining to me how you're supposed to eat a rainbow of food, and Gabe interrupted to say food couldn't be blue. So Mom went out of her way to get all the blue food she could find, to prove him wrong, and now it's kinda all I think about with blue." He hesitated, rubbing the toy between his fingers, and then clarified, "Uh, not Smelly Gabe so much. Just. Me and Mom, I guess."
"I understand," Ben said quietly, and Percy relaxed, giving him a sheepish smile. Then they moved on, leaving Percy with the lingering warm feeling of recounting the memory.
Foggy and Matt left them alone for the most part, working together to develop a strategy for their case against Fisk. They were both in and out, and both of them did a lot of writing, though it took Percy a bit to realize that was what Matt was doing. Sally stayed in the same place, making little gestures to reassure Percy every time he looked at her.
"You'd just come home?" Ben questioned, when Percy was going over what he and his mom had been doing before the threat came. "Where were you?"
"Uh, I was with Dad's side of the family," Percy said uncomfortably. He bounced his leg, trying to form an adequate response. "There was kind of an emergency, and they wanted me there for it, I guess."
"How did it go?" Ben asked. Percy scowled at the ground.
"Bad," he said. "It's why I got so worked up so fast. I was already kind of upset." He hesitated, and then tacked on, trying to be less unhelpful, "One of my cousins died, and a bunch of the adults were fighting about me."
"I'm sorry," Ben said quietly, and didn't linger on the topic, thankfully.
"You're good at this," Percy said after a while, oddly flustered. He didn't usually have a lot of cause to talk about himself, and it was weird that so much of it had come so easily. Ben chuckled.
"I'm a reporter," he said. "Getting people comfortable enough to talk is a big part of my job. Though normally I specialize in less strictly personal topics than this." He flashed Percy a smile. "It'll certainly make my editor happy."
"Is that all you needed?" Percy asked, kicking the ground restlessly.
"Just about," Ben said, looking over his notes. "There is one thing I wanted to ask you, if you're comfortable with it, but I can write the story just fine without it." Percy cocked his head. "Can you tell me a little about your stepfather? One or two details. I'd like to be able to illustrate what you left behind."
Percy's expression pinched with discomfort, and he glanced at Sally.
Percy didn't talk about Gabe, usually – out of the people at camp, only Annabeth and Grover knew about him at all, and even they didn't know everything. It was embarrassing; Percy didn't want people to know that being the son of a god hadn't stopped him from giving in every time Gabe raised a hand to him. He still wanted to cry when he thought about some of the stupid shit he'd done to avoid getting hit.
"Whatever you want, sweetie," Sally said quietly. Percy relaxed a little, looked back at Ben, and considered for a moment.
"Two things?" he asked. "Like, anything?"
"Anything you're comfortable with," Ben agreed.
"He was mad that he had to return Mom's life insurance money," Percy said flatly. "And he used to make me read my report card out loud to him and his poker buddies so they could laugh at me." He scowled, crossing his arms over his stomach. "I have two learning disabilities. Even I know that was a shitty thing to do."
"Thank you, Mr. Jackson," Ben said, inclining his head slightly. "That's enough. The story ought to be out in tomorrow's morning paper."
Percy nodded, hit suddenly with the realization that everything he'd just said would become public knowledge. He started when someone touched his hair, but it was just Sally, giving him a small, proud smile.
After that, things developed surprisingly smoothly. Ben's paper was indeed the first to cover the breaking-news story of Fisk's arrest, establishing him as a money-hungry monster hell-bent on sabotaging the recovery of an abused mother and child for the benefit of the rich. He followed it up a day later with the full exposé on Fisk's crimes, which the primed public eagerly devoured with the appropriate amount of outrage. By the time they'd gotten back from Christmas with Foggy's family – where Percy had spent most of his time entertaining the kids and then gotten a bag of fidget toys from Foggy – Fisk was arrested.
All six of them gathered in the law office to watch the coverage, sharing takeout between them while Fisk was taken away; something about the grim satisfaction on Ben's face made Percy think that this might be his favorite part of the job. Someone had alerted the Avengers, and Hawkeye and Black Widow personally escorted Fisk to his jail cell.
Percy felt nothing but relief. They could go home again.
A few days after they moved back in, someone knocked on their apartment door.
"Oh!" Sally squeaked, when she opened the door. Percy twisted to look, frowning, blue licorice hanging from his mouth. "M-Ms. Romanov, is something the matter?"
"Not at all," said the Black Widow, sounding faintly amused. "But I do need to speak to you and your son. If I might come in?"
"Of course," Sally said, stepping aside. Natasha strode in as naturally as if she belonged there, the corner of her mouth quirking up as she met Percy's eyes. Percy cocked his head warily, biting off the end of his candy to pull the rest away. "Please, sit down. Is this about Mr. Fisk?"
"To be honest, our interest in Wilson Fisk had more to do with your son than the other way around," Natasha said, seating herself comfortably on the couch. "It's not every day that we find a son of Poseidon." Sally faltered on her way back to the couch, and Percy tensed. Natasha smiled disarmingly. "The Greek world has a bit of influence on our team. Clint is a son of Apollo, and Tony is a double legacy. Athena and Hephaestus." She tapped her temple with one finger. "I'm clearsighted."
"So there are adult demigods," Percy blurted out, and then ducked his head, embarrassed. Natasha gave him a sympathetic smile.
"There are even old demigods sometimes," she said. "Peggy Carter is a daughter of Zeus, from before the Big Three swore off children, and she's still alive. She has to be protected these days, but when she dies, it'll probably be the Alzheimer's that does it."
"Wow," Percy whispered. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised – Chiron and Annabeth had mentioned that some demigods grew up, nearly always into household names – but he was. He hadn't ever thought there might be Big Three kids all grown up.
Sally returned from the kitchen with a plate of cookies and a pitcher of blue Kool-Aid, her usual refuge when they got unexpected visitors.
"Thank you," Natasha said politely, accepting a cookie and biting into it with an appreciative hum. "I'm sure I don't need to explain why this caught our attention, Percy."
"Yeah, no," Percy muttered uncomfortably, stealing a cookie for himself. "The gods voted whether or not to kill me a couple weeks ago, I think I get the idea."
Shit. He hadn't meant to let Sally know that, and she'd gone dead pale.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "They said no."
"I can see that," Sally said, voice pitched high and breathless, and then pulled him closer to her so he could lean against her. He almost smiled. It was good to be home.
"I can promise you that that is not what the Avengers did when we found you," Natasha said, with a touch of humor that made Percy relax. "But it does mean there's a big fight coming, Percy. You know that, don't you?"
Percy stared at his cookie for a long moment, throat tightening. But eventually he nodded. "Yeah. There's been-" He cut himself off, and bit the cookie before it could crumble in his grip. Natasha patiently drank Kool-Aid until he finished it, and Percy gave in. "Luke's been sailing around with a ship full of monsters. Most of the campers have been dreaming of a voice from Tartarus, and we're starting to get runaways. We had to bring Bessie to Olympus on my last quest."
"Bessie?" Natasha asked, for the first time audibly baffled. Percy blushed.
"The, uh. The ophia... Ophiotaurus. I didn't know what he was when I found him, and I needed something to call him while I was untangling him from the fishnet, so I was just calling him Bessie. It seemed like a good name for a cow fish." Sally laughed and ran her fingers through his hair, and Percy protested, "Mom!"
Natasha shook her head, looking amused. "At least it's somewhere safe," she said. "Everything else... it's worrying, to say the least. Expect Clint to start dropping by camp more often." Percy nodded, unable to bring himself to be excited about it. Natasha softened. "This day was always going to come, Percy. The oath that the Big Three swore just delayed the inevitable."
Percy nodded unhappily. "If Thalia hadn't become a huntress, it would have been her," he said. "And if I die before I'm sixteen, it'll be..." He cut himself off. Natasha didn't seem to notice.
Nico was ten. Percy couldn't do that to him.
"That's Fate at work if I've ever seen it," Natasha said, as if it didn't bother her at all. "Do you feel prepared?"
"No," Percy said before he could stop himself, staring down at his knees. "I mean... I've done a lot on my quests. I know I can handle a lot more than I thought I could." He reached up and tugged on a lock of his hair, thinking of the gray one. "But this is- have you ever felt Kronos?"
"Fortunately not," Natasha said quietly.
"It's horrible," Percy said, more raw than he'd meant. "You know it as soon as he's even paying attention to you 'cause you can feel it. It's like being at the bottom of the ocean, except instead of millions of tons of water it's just Kronos. Looking at you." Natasha and Sally were both looking at him, and Percy ducked his head, barely resisting the urge to hide his face against Sally's shoulder. "Uh. I've had a lot of demigod dreams about Kronos. They really suck."
"I imagine he wants you," Natasha commented. Percy scowled at the ground.
"Too bad," he said shortly. "I'm not Luke. I don't betray my friends."
One of Sally's hands opened Percy's and rubbed the skin where the pit scorpion had left a welt. It was a tic that had started as Percy's, until he'd told Sally what had happened. Percy settled a little.
"That's very good, Percy," Natasha said, even and light, and then, "If you're both alright with it, we'd like you to come to the tower sometime this week. One of us will come to collect you. It shouldn't take more than a few hours."
"Why?" Percy asked, feeling Sally's grip tighten anxiously around him.
"You've been at camp the last couple years, haven't you?" Natasha said with a smile, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I'm afraid we're all a bit behind on the goings-on in the Greek world, so it'll be good to hear it from someone who was in the thick of it."
Percy glanced at Sally, who still looked nervous, though she smiled when she saw him looking at her. "It'll be good for you, I think."
"Alright," Percy conceded almost immediately, looking back at Natasha. "I mean... I guess. You're sure you wouldn't rather hear it from Chiron or Annabeth?"
"We'll probably ask for a couple perspectives," Natasha allowed. "But yes, we'd like to specifically ask you. Oh, and..." She pulled something out of her pocket and leaned over, giving Sally a business card and a small smile. "Keep in touch, won't you? It's not everyone that has what it takes to see the world for what it is."
Sally looked startled, accepting the card on automatic, but she recovered quickly to smile at Natasha. "Thank you."
Natasha gave her a nod, and then got up, apparently done with her business. On her way out, she paused to glance at Percy, and nodded at him as well.
"Stay strong and fight well," she said, and then she left, closing the door behind her.