There are many regrets that Percy Jackson has in his life. His time with the gods, the horrors that followed, the moment he found out he was lactose intolerant. But Annabeth was never one of them. He could never regret loving her, for as long as he lived.
He did regret letting her go.
The problem was what it always was: space. The space between them grew to be too great, the longing too much, and his heart wandered. They had both been so young when they fell in love, it was a miracle they lasted as long as they did. He wished it had been longer, but maybe it was for the best. Percy couldn't give her what her new husband did.
He couldn't give her the roundness of her stomach, almost six months pregnant. She's carrying a briefcase and a round portfolio sheath, dressed for a business meeting. It pales in comparison to Percy's rumpled suit and stained collar.
Percy does a double take, screeching to a halt in his pursuit. He looks at Annabeth's face, then to her stomach, then back to her face. Clint rushes ahead to catch the figure, leaving Percy behind.
"Annabeth." He's breathless from exertion.
She blinks at him. "Percy. It's good to see you."
Percy looks out into the crowd, trying to spot where Clint went. "Yeah, you too—"
"What, uh— what have you been up to?" Her eyes, ever analytical, take in the bloodstains, the gun holstered by his side, the capped Riptide in his hand.
"I'm—" He strains his neck to see over the crowd, torn between going after Clint and staying with Annabeth. If the intruder looped back around, he didn't want her to get hurt. "I'm working a job."
"Oh? That's great." Her tone sounds put on. "I haven't heard from you in a while, but Will told me you'd come back. Camp has really missed—"
Clint returns with a rush of air, pausing to collect himself with his hands on his knees. He looks up at Percy. "They went down a narrow as fuck alleyway and disappeared on the other side. I couldn't get 'em and couldn't shoot into a crowd of this size."
Percy swears under his breath. He pushes his hair back with one hand. "Who's going to tell Stark he has a traitor in the building? Because it's not going to be me."
"Aw, c'mon," Clint cracks a smile. "He loves you."
"He wants to study me," Percy says. "There's a difference."
Annabeth clears her throat. Percy ducks his head in admonishment. He should have known better; she was never one to be ignored.
"Oh, uh, yes, right, um—" Percy gestures to Annabeth. "Clint, this is Annabeth, my… friend from camp. Annabeth this is my… Clint. Coworker. We're working on a case together."
Annabeth raises an eyebrow, but puts her hand out for Clint to shake. "Hawkeye, right?"
Clint lets out a low whistle. "So much for the secret identity."
"It's not really a secret, is it?" She smiles wryly.
Clint laughs. "No, I guess not. Even my apartment building knows who I am. I should put the kibosh on that, now that I'm thinking about it." He looks between Percy and Annabeth and puts two and two together in his bird brain. "Always good to meet a fellow member of the club. Percy's exes need to stick together."
Percy chokes on air.
Introducing the two of them was a mistake.
Annabeth laughs, a high, clear sound that he hadn't heard in years. Percy doesn't realize how much he missed her genuine laugh until that moment.
"Oh, I know which one you are now." She shoots Percy a sly smile. "We'll have to get together sometime; compare notes and all that."
Percy is dying. He's fairly sure his heart is about to give out. If Zeus could just strike him down—
"I'd like that, but I know one person who wouldn't." He gives her the worst shit eating grin in the world.
Clint claps Percy on the back. He reaches for the top button of his bloodstained shirt and undoes it, letting air back into his lungs. Percy must've died already; nothing else could explain this manifestation of the Fields of Punishment.
"Congrats, by the way." He shyly points to her stomach.
"Oh," Annabeth looks down as if she just realized it's there. "Thanks. It's tough with Michael turning three soon, but Andy's been a big help while I've been here on business."
The wedding band on her finger is blinding. He hadn't seen it since she'd gotten back from her honeymoon. The wedding had been in New Rome and lasted days; Percy was out on assignment and unable to be reached, despite Jason's insistence he be there.
"We have to go, but—"
Percy digs into his pocket for a piece of paper and finds nothing. He turns to Clint with a meaningful look and they spend a few seconds arguing through eyes alone. After an almighty sigh, Clint pulls out paper and a pen for Percy to scribble his number on and passes it to Annabeth.
"Call me. We can go for, uh, coffee? Wait, shit, pregnant women can't have caffeine. Uh, tea. You still like tea, right?"
Annabeth laughs. "Yeah, I do." She grasps his hand in hers, looking deep into his eyes. "I am really glad you're back, Percy."
He stills. If he looks any longer, he knows he'll break, and he can't handle that. Not now. Not with her. "Me too, Annabeth."
He pulls her into a hug. Some habits die a little harder than others.
"And clean your damn clothes," she brushes dirt off his shoulder. "You look like hell."
A smile finds its way onto his face. He gives her a lazy salute as he turns away. "Aye, aye, captain."
It breaks his heart to turn away from her. It always has.
—
"Good news and bad news, Stark."
Clint puts his suit jacket down on the table of the common area in Avengers Tower. He had a room here if he ever needed it, but could only take so much camaraderie before he wanted to spontaneously combust. In the early days of the team living together, he would hide in the vents. Sometimes he wondered if being up there again would give him a sense of nostalgia.
"Okay, hit me."
Tony had vacated the server room once the intruder was chased out, locking it and his workshop down until an all clear could be given. Now he lounges in his sweatpants, a comically large mug of coffee in his hand.
"I'll give you the compliment sandwich—"
"Oh goody, my favourite."
"Good news, we now have a lead. Once we look through your CCTV footage, it'll be even easier to track them," Clint says. "Bad news, we lost them."
"Great," Tony sips his coffee.
"Hey, I haven't yet hit you with the even better news," Clint pats Percy on the back. "After losing the perp, Perseus here ran into his ex-girlfriend."
Percy moans. "Don't rile him up."
"Ex?" That gets Tony's attention. "Did she tussle with Hawkguy for your affections?"
"No— hey! How did you—?"
"Know that you and Clint dated?" Tony finishes. "Only two types of people react the way that he did when you showed up." He holds up his fingers. "Scorned lovers or mortal enemies. Considering Natasha hasn't killed you, I banked on the scorned lovers theory."
Percy crosses his arms over his chest in preparation to sulk for the rest of the afternoon.
"So, you going after them or what?" Tony drains the last bit of his coffee.
"As soon as we get the CCTV footage we can build a profile—"
"No, your ex."
Percy groans again, turning to leave the room. "This is the last time any of you are allowed to know about my love life."
"I know about Natasha, too!" Tony shouts after him.
Clint grabs the coffee pot straight from the coffee maker and drinks from the spout. "You're the worst. You know that, right?"
Tony shrugs. "You want me to take this girl out? I can do that for you, Hawkguy. Friends and all that."
Clint almost laughs. "No, she seems nice. And she's really fucking pregnant right now. I don't think she's getting back with Percy any time soon."
Tony hums and wags a finger at him. "You never know… You never know."
"Stay out of it or I'll sic Natasha on you."
"Alright, alright," Tony concedes. "And stop drinking out of my coffee pot."
" Our coffee pot, Tony." Clint makes the hammer and sickle with his fingers.
He pauses and looks at Clint, really looks at him. Long enough that Clint starts to notice and gives him a look back.
"Are you good?" Tony asks. "Like actually good?"
"Are you asking about my morality or about…?" His voice trails off. He indicates the living room where Percy is currently taking a nap on the couch.
Tony nods in the same direction.
"Yeah." Clint's voice is uneven, melancholy tinging his words. "It's— it fucking sucks, but I'm fine. I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me."
Tony claps Clint on the shoulder. "Because I can take him out too, if you want."
He laughs, dry and humorless. "Not him. No power in the world can take him out. And trust me, they've tried."
Clint leaves the room with the coffee pot and goes to nudge Percy awake. Tony remains in the kitchen, the gears in his head whirring as he wonders what exactly Percy is, or what he could be.
—
Percy has never been to Clint's apartment; they were always somewhere else in the world, both of them on assignment, that they rarely crossed paths in their off time. It's sparser than he anticipated, boxes lining the walls as if he hadn't unpacked in the years he was here.
"Give me a minute," Clint says. "I'd give you a change of clothes too, but I doubt any of them would fit you."
Percy is notably taller than Clint, his shoulders broader and his legs longer. It wasn't that Clint was short , exactly. More that he was built differently. On more than one occasion, Clint had referred to Percy as being a 'Dorito-ass motherfucker.' He wore it as a badge of pride.
He sits gingerly on the edge of the couch as Clint changes. He wants to go back to Rachel's place, but doesn't want to expose the location to anyone, even Clint. It would just have to wait, even as his appearance garnered them a few strange looks.
"Okay, let's head back to the Tower." Clint grabs his bow and quiver as they go, stocking up with a few choice arrows. "Nat will want to see what we found and Stark should have tracked down the person in the server room by now."
Percy follows Clint out of the apartment, mesmerized by the small details he can glean about his life. A quick glance at the map on his wall gives insight into the missions Clint has been doing as Hawkeye. They taper off as it gets closer to the case they're currently working.
"My car is in the shop," Clint says as they exit the building. "So we'll have to— fuck."
On the steps of the building is a loose assortment of men in horrible velour tracksuits, some wielding baseball bats, some with crowbars, and some with guns. Percy immediately reaches for Riptide but Clint stays his hand.
"Hey fellas," Clint says jovially. "How's it going in tracksuit land?"
"We've come back for that beating we promised, bro," says one in a thick Russian accent. He spits onto the pavement.
"Yeah, bro," another chimes in. "It wasn't cool what you did, bro."
Clint holds his hands up. "Listen, listen, guys. I won fair and square. The building is mine now. You have to learn how to take an L at some point."
A tracksuit chuckles darkly, popping his gum, and swings his crowbar. "As will you, bro ."
Clint tenses. He taps Percy on the shoulder. "Uh, Perce?"
"Yeah?" Percy is edging away. His eyes scan the area for the best escape route.
"Run."
Clint dashes off to the side, Percy hot on his heels, as the tracksuits tumble after them like a swarm of locusts. They shout insults their way, swinging weapons as they go.
"Who are these guys?" Percy shouts.
"Uh… sort of my mortal enemies?" Clint's voice is high. "At least I'm theirs . I won the building off of their leader in a game of poker. And I stole their dog. It's a long story."
Percy dodges a bullet and curses. "Fucking make it shorter, then!"
Clint takes a sharp turn down an alley. "They were extorting the residents, Percy! I couldn't let them kick everyone out and leave them without a penny to their name. So I won the building off their leader and everything was all hunky-dory until I, uh—" He ducks as a bat swings for his head. The alleyway is narrow enough that they're only fighting a few tracksuits at a time. "I kinda helped the wife of the second-in-command escape while also stealing his car and fucking said wife."
" Clint ." Percy manages to wrench a crowbar from the hands of a tracksuit, smacking him upside the head with it until he went down. "What the fuck ?"
"I was in a bad place after you, alright?" He shouts back. "Anyway, their leader didn't take too kindly to that and saw the building as forfeit. These are his goons. I call them the tracksuits."
Percy dispatches the last one in the alley, breathing hard. Clint picks up a bat from one of the fallen tracksuits and nods to him. The remaining tracksuits skid to a stop at the mouth of the alleyway, drawing their guns.
"Fuck." Clint drops the bat and pulls his bow out instead. "Shoot to maim. I hate the guys but killing them would just be more fuel to the fire."
Percy swears, getting his gun out and sends a few shots their way before dashing to the end of the alleyway and out onto the next block. He catches up with Clint.
"Where the fuck is the dog?" He shouts.
"What?" Clint turns behind them to send an arrow flying.
"You said you stole their dog! Where is the dog, Clint?"
"Oh," Clint drags Percy down another street. "He's at doggy daycare. I've been working late and he gets lonely sometimes."
Percy shakes his head as he chuckles to himself. "Of course."
Bullets ring out behind them and they duck down, easing around the building to catch their breath as they mentally calculate what to do next. Percy uses his free hand to sign to Clint.
How do we lose these guys?
Clint blinks; he didn't think Percy remembered any of the sign he taught him. He signs back.
River.
Percy's expression shifts, but is interrupted by a new volley of bullets heading their way. They hit the building next to them, sending chunks of brick flying.
On my count, Clint signs. Percy nods. He pauses until the tracksuits are forced to reload and then sharply tugs him down a side street.
They take off running. With Percy's knowledge of the area, he can feel they're getting closer to the Hudson, closer to the water that he has been trying so desperately to avoid. It's inevitable that Clint would want to see him use his powers now that they could come in handy, an inevitability that makes Percy's skin itch at the thought.
The tracksuits come after them, less of a swarm and more of a buzzing nuisance. They managed to shake all but four of the guys, but the four left were absolutely massive. They yell jeering insults after Clint and Percy.
"You're just delaying the inevitable, bro!"
"Your little friend won't save you, bro!"
Clint rolls his eyes. "These guys need a new catchphrase, I swear."
Percy turns and shoots at their legs. One of the tracksuits goes down, taking out another with him.
"Fuck yeah," Clint grins. "Now work your magic on the other two and we'll be home free."
The river is on their left now and he can sense what Clint wants him to do. Pull a water whip or make a whirlpool, freeze the saliva in their mouths or boil the blood in their veins. But Percy panics; he can't help it.
They skid to a stop as the other two tracksuits box them in, guns held high. Both Clint and Percy were low on ammo, forced back to back.
"It's the end of the line now, bro." The bigger of the two grins and hefts his gun up onto his shoulder.
"Now, Percy," Clint mutters sharply.
He knows what he should do, but still, he hesitates.
And it almost costs them everything.
Bang!
Percy pulls an explosive trick arrow out of Clint's quiver and pushes it through the eye socket of the tracksuit like a spear, knocking him into his companion as he arms the bomb. The resulting blast kills both tracksuits and launches Percy and Clint over the railing.
"Fuck."
Clint heaves himself up out of the Hudson, rivulets of water running down his face as he sputters. He paws at his clothes in an attempt to get them off as quickly as possible, the very real threat of the myriad of diseases in the river at the back of his mind. He needs to get into a decontamination shower as fast as possible.
Percy isn't far behind him, but unlike Clint, he isn't gasping for air like a fish. He's not dry either, and Clint pauses in his heaving to let anger bloom in his chest, hot and heady.
"Why the fuck didn't you use your fucking powers?" Clint roars. He's moments away from grabbing Percy by the collar and strangling him.
"Fuck off," Percy says sharply. He takes off his jacket, wringing it out over the river.
"No. You don't get to tell me to fuck off, you goddamn hypocrite. You almost got us fucking killed back there and now I'm covered in fucking Hudson water and will probably grow a third tit."
Percy leans against the side of a dumpster. "A third one would suit you. You already look so beautiful with the first two."
Fire burns behind Clint's eyes and he bites down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from throwing Percy back into the water. "Give me some fucking answers, Percy. Why didn't you use your powers?"
Percy looks out over the water, his eyebrows slung low and dark. "I— sort of can't."
"What do you mean sort of ?"
He mutters Greek swears beneath his breath. "When I disappeared off the map, a lot of my blessings went away too. I wanted to get as far away from the reaches of the gods as I could, so I didn't use my powers anymore." He looks at Clint. "Happy?"
Clint sighs and slumps against a railing. "No. You've been a goddamn thorn in my side the entire time you've been back."
"Congratulations are in order, then. I'm not planning on sticking around." Percy wipes at his face. He's not sullen or brooding anymore, he just looks… defeated.
"You can't leave me high and dry like this," Clint says.
Percy shrugs. "It's obvious you don't want me here, judging by the stick up your ass. Not even I could get that thing out."
"Unlike you, I have a good reason to be angry," Clint bites out.
"Yeah?" Percy's getting riled up now. "And what is that?"
"You left!" Clint's voice breaks mid-shout. Tears prick at the edges of his eyes. "You told me you loved me. We spent that amazing day together where I thought 'Finally, I'm getting through to him. Finally, he seems to love me as much as I love him, despite everything we've been through. He won't leave me like the others.' and then you left. You didn't even say goodbye; I didn't dignify a note or a call. You just… walked into the fucking ocean and I never heard from you again. Do you know how that fucking feels? After a lifetime of being left behind, for the one person you think won't leave you to do that?"
Percy swallows. He'd never seen Clint like that before, save for the night in question. Clint wasn't someone who cried easily, nor was Percy, but they held each other as they sobbed, speaking of the past and all its atrocities. He had loved him, this much was true.
"I—" The words stick in Percy's throat. "I'm sorry, Clint."
Clint scoffs. "Yeah, take your apology and go fuck yourself with it. I don't want to hear it."
They sit in sullen silence for a moment, neither wishing to speak. Percy breaks it.
"I have to go, Clint," he says. "I can't do this."
"Go ahead. Leave like you always do. It's obvious you're never going to fucking change anyway, so why should I bother?"
Percy's shame quickly burns into anger. "You're not free of issues either, Clint. Pot, kettle and all that. I am here on a favour to you and Natasha. Do you think you could have made it this far without me?"
"Then stay," Clint says. "Prove me wrong and stay."
"No." His voice wavers. "It's too much—"
Clint cuts in "They're killing children, Percy. Kids."
Percy barks out a laugh. "People kill kids all the time, Clint. Look at who you're talking to!"
The air stills between them. Neither breathe.
"No."
Clint says it after a too-long pause. His face is like stone.
Another chuckle wrenches itself from Percy's throat, dark and horrid, "What do you think I was doing all those years? When I'd slip out from wherever you and Nat were staying and come back a little worse for wear?"
"You were doing the gods' bidding. Killing monsters."
"Turns out doing their bidding includes a lot more than any of us bargained for." Percy looks down and away from Clint's face. He can't take any more of that expression.
Clint's jaw goes slack. "Jason."
Percy reluctantly pulls his head up and swallows. "Jason. They pushed him too far; he couldn't take it anymore. We're immune to a lot of things, but he wasn't coming back after he swallowed a few bullets when I wasn't looking."
"Was it…?" Clint lets the implication hang in the air.
"The night I left?" Percy looks out across the river. "Yeah. I knew something was wrong the minute it happened. I couldn't think— I just needed to go find him. By the time I got there, it was too late." He looks at how the sun shimmers on the water and lets himself drift back to that day. "We buried him with my beads. That's how I know the killer doesn't have them. They're six feet under around a corpse's neck."
Clint doesn't know what to say. Percy stands and holds a hand out for him. The moment their hands touch, he dries them both off with the little bit of his powers he still chooses to access. The rest… he's not sure he'll ever come back for.
"C'mon." Percy tugs on Clint's hand gently. "I know a place we can go to lay low for a while."
—
Sally Jackson hits her son with a rolled up newspaper when she answers the door.
" Perseus Miguel Jackson! " She comes at him with the fury of a mother hell-bent on disciplining her child, no matter their age.
" Mami—! " Percy pleads, holding his hands up. His eyes are wide as she berates him, backing slowly into the apartment. He bumps into a small table with votive candles on it and a small framed painting of brown Jesus. Hastily, Percy rights the candles and says a quick prayer to the Jesus.
" Don't 'mami' me! " Sally says in Spanish. She clutches the newspaper in her fist and waves it about. " A year! A whole year! You don't call, you don't write. For all I knew, you were dead in a ditch somewhere! "
Percy tries to take her hands in his but she bats his shoulder and back with the newspaper. He curls under it, nearly a foot taller than her, letting out pleading words.
" Mami, I couldn't— it was a mission— !"
" Ay, si, a mission from the gods. The gods who couldn't even let your poor mother know you were okay ?" She ceases in her assault and stares at him with a hawkish gaze.
" Perdóname, mami. " He puts his hands over his heart. " Te pido disculpas de corazón."
Sally considers his apology for a moment, then her expression softens. She pulls her son in for a hearty hug, holding onto him a bit too tightly to make up for lost time. Sally is nearly on the tip of her toes just to have her arms wrapped around his neck.
" I missed you ," she says, kissing him on the cheek. " Let me take a look at you ."
Sally steps back to observe Percy and frowns, her hands skimming over his damp, blood-spotted suit.
" Ay, mijo, you are too skinny now." She pokes and prods at him as he yelps, trying to bat her hands away. " You need to eat. Come, come. Your little friend can come too. " She gives Clint a backwards glance. " ¿Quién es el secret agent?" She lets out a little hum. " Un James Bond?"
Clint gives a little wave. "Hi."
" No es secret agent, mami ." Percy huffs, already frustrated and comforted by his mother in equal parts. He missed hearing her nag him, missed speaking Spanish in a way that only they did. He'd gone to Guatemala during his travels, but it hadn't been the same as being near his mother.
" No es un problema ," Sally says, gesturing for Clint to come inside. She closes the door. " I'll make you atole de fresas, but after that you need caldo. " She pinches his arm, tutting all the while, and he makes a startled noise. " Flaco ."
Percy sends Clint an apologetic look and Clint holds his hands up. Sally turns to face him.
"Hello, I'm Sally Jackson. Percy's mother." Sally holds her hand out to Clint as she speaks in English, a warm smile on her face. "Are you hungry? I'm making you both something to eat. Do you eat beef? You're not a vegetarian, are you? Can you have gluten? Can you have cheese? Percy can't ever since—"
" Mami !" Percy says sharply.
Clint blinks at the sudden onslaught, then twitches as something shocks his ear. He pulls out his water-logged hearing aids, ruined from the water of the Hudson River.
They're broken , Clint signs to Percy. Can you interpret for me?
Percy nods and explains to his mother in Spanish that Clint is deaf.
My name is Clint Barton. Pleased to meet you, Ms Jackson. I also eat meat.
Percy chuckles, but Sally smiles, shaking Clint's hand.
"You boys go take a shower. There's extra clothes in your old room, Percy," she says, gently moving them towards the bathroom. "Make yourselves presentable, por favor ."
As soon as the door closes behind them, Percy runs a hand through his hair looking embarrassed.
Sorry about my mom. She can be overprotective sometimes .
Clint smiles a little. He doesn't remember his mother, nor does he remember his father. It makes his heart twinge. She's nice. I like her.
Sorry for the lip-reading, too , he signs. We speak Spanish at home, so it might be hard .
It's okay. Honestly, Percy .
When Clint signs his name, he doesn't finger-spell it like he normally would. Instead, he does the name sign he used to do years ago, a small fish swimming in the sea. It makes something bloom in Percy's chest; he feels like he can relax.
Take the first shower , Percy signs. I'll get some clothes for you .
Clint nods, locking eyes with Percy again. All the unsaid apologies pour over into his gaze. The seas feel calm again. They can finally breathe.
Sally makes them bowls of caldo de res with rice and corn, a large stack of blue corn tortillas in the middle of the table. She sprinkles queso fresco on Clint's bowl with a wink and ruffles Percy's hair, wet from the shower. Two cups of atole de fresas sit in front of them, which Clint dutifully sips. He's wearing some of Percy's old clothes and feels oddly domestic about it.
She chats incessantly about the food, about Clint and Percy's well-being, about the local gossip going on in the building and the new shops that moved in. Even Percy can't keep up with interpreting all of it for Clint and eventually gives up. Clint squeezes Percy's hand in reassurance. He buries himself in the soup instead.
They're sent away with leftovers: more caldo de res, tortillas, a massive freezer bag filled to the brim with tamales, and various ingredients that Sally assures them they will need to eat properly.
" Mijo ." Sally holds Percy's face in her hands. " Don't go away for so long again ."
" I won't, mami ," he assures her, turning his head to kiss her palm. " I promise ."
She seems to mellow at that, heaving a sigh. " Alright. Before you leave— "
Sally crosses her index finger and her thumb, hovering it over Percy's forehead, then his heart as she murmurs a benediction. With a smile, she does the same for a very amused Clint. After the blessing is done, she opens the door for them.
" Come back soon ," she says, looking from Percy to Clint. " Both of you ."
Percy kisses her on both her cheeks. " Si, mami. Te amo. "
He struggles out of the apartment building with all the food. Clint takes enough of the bags from him so he can sign with one hand.
Back to the Tower? He asks, hailing a cab.
Clint nods. Let's get to work.
