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It must have looked strange to the car that had driven by. After all, how often do you see a kid dressed in all-black armor and a cape dragging along a woman on the side of a street?
The man in the car did give a long stare as he passed by. Percy, of course, matched his gaze for assurance's sake. The driver could have been one of the assassins and pulled a gun. Percy didn't stop watching the car till it drove well out of sight.
"Are we there yet?"
Percy ignored the Doctor as he kept pulling her forward past more and more street lights. Their shadows danced across shops and small businesses. The two were close to their destination and running out of time.
"This was not a short trip! I am really going to have to cram to stay on time."
Percy ignored her again as he instead glanced at his PDA. They just needed to hang a right at the next intersection, and the place should be three doors down. He hurried to the corner, Roquette hot on his trail. They passed an ice cream shop and an antique store before they arrived at the café.
Percy knelt on the ground before the door and reached into his trusty belt. One multi-purpose lockpick later, he pulled on the doors, opening them. The nice thing about small towns like Happy Harbour was that security systems weren't in every establishment.
"This is illegal, isn't it?" Roquette hesitated at the threshold of the door.
Percy turned from already inside the building.
Did you really just ask that, of all things, after creating The Fog in the first place?
"Stupid question?" she winced.
Percy nodded and went further into the building.
At the back of the café, there was the server's counter where an array of appliances lay. He spotted cups and small plates, likely if someone ordered a small delight with their coffee. However, for Percy, it was free projectiles he could throw at anyone who came through the door. Would it hurt them or even hinder them? No, probably not. Would it annoy them and force them to shield their eyes from the fragmenting kitchenware and ultimately make them unable to see him sneak in a Batarang? Well, he could only hope.
In the back of the room, nestled away in a reasonably secluded and sheltered corner, was a booth. They would just need to drag a computer that was against the near wall to the booth and hook it up properly, and the Doctor could get to work.
"Where should I set up?"
Percy pointed to the corner booth.
"And a computer?"
Percy unplugged a monitor from the near wall and plopped it onto the booth table.
"Right." She nodded. "You seem to have this figured out."
Percy nodded and kept working. He grabbed the computer tower next. The mouse and keyboard, still plugged into the back, fell to the floor. He gathered everything up and began plugging everything into an outlet. He powered up the system, the screen blinking to life as the Doctor finally sat down.
"It works," she sighed. "I just need to upload my data now," she whispered to herself and began to mess with the computer.
Percy turned away. He would leave the tech stuff to her. In the meantime, he had a furniture fort to build.
He carefully swung his arm across a tabletop. The offending packs of sugar and sweeteners flew across the room as he lifted the four-person square table above his head. He placed it before the Roquette. The first shield. He repeated the process for another table. Then another and another.
"Is all this really necessary? What if you need to get to me?"
The point is that no one can get to you.
"Right. I forgot you cannot speak back to me, and I should just remain busy typing."
Yes, you should.
Percy beeped the call on his device four times. It was his signal that everything on his end was good and underway.
"About time," Kaldur spoke over the comms. "Hook is incapacitated, but Cheshire—Ugh!" The line fell quiet. "Cheshire is too good. We'll keep holding the perimeter for you as long as we can. Artemis! Watch out!"
The line fell silent.
An unnerving shiver went down Percy's spine—the creep of a spider ghosting his skin as chills scattered across his body.
They could handle themselves, he told himself as he busied his body, stacking a few chairs against the glass door and front windows. It wouldn't stop anyone, but it would have to make them break their way in and slow down whatever entry strategy they wanted to use, ideally.
For safety measures, he also stacked some furniture against the kitchen door. This place wasn't Fort Nox, but no one was sneaking in either.
Percy just had to hold the line now. The Doctor predicted thirty minutes to finish her work, which was a tall ask for the situation. Thirty minutes…. If he were lucky, the team would finish the fight back at the school. If they didn't, the luckiest of that situation would be them holding their line for anywhere for the next seven to fifteen minutes. It's unlikely, as most fights didn't reach that long without a line of goons to swing through.
However, add in the ten minutes of running into town, and maybe he could find himself lucky only to have to fend off for ten minutes himself. That or he would have to neutralize whoever came through the door as fast as he could. Honestly, that was the better plan, but he wasn't too confident it would be the one he would be saddled with.
So, in the interim of waiting, Percy triple-checked his self-made security. He even went behind the counter and found the sink faucet. By the blessings of Tyche, it was an extendable hose. He made sure to coat the floor with scattered puddles. Sometimes, just a foot sliding out of place was all you needed to capitalize and win a fight.
"Orpheus! Cheshire fled. She found out our ruse. I'm sorry we couldn't buy you two more times," Crock buzzed over the comms. "Kaldur got stabbed by her blade. He's fine. Atlantean magic protected him, but it was poisoned. Just be careful, yeah? Me and M'gann are patching him up, and then we will be on our way."
Kaldur was stabbed. Cheshire was free and hunting. Hook was incapacitated. No mention of the third. That could be trouble.
He beeped once back, acknowledging the transmission, and checked the time. They bought him four minutes.
Not great on the luck factor. Whoever is the god of hiding away from enemies in a tactical effort, please give me all the time you can.
For an extra incentive, Percy even filled a glass with water from a sink and poured it on the floor. It wasn't the greatest sacrifice or offering one could give, but he didn't know how to make coffee. Lourde had always made his, and Alfred had filled that hole in his life as well.
:P LINE BREAK d:
Seventeen minutes of hiding.
That was how much his offering bought him.
Percy kept his gaze vigilant as he stared out the window like a dog searching for a mailman. He swapped between infrared and night vision, his eye only falling to the distant ocean a few times in moments of distraction. It was hard to explain why it happened; it was almost as if the tide was beckoning him, but he ignored it in favor of the mission.
Then he spotted the figure on the other side of the road atop a building. A zoom on his lenses and he saw the distinct white and red mask of Cheshire.
They stared at each other for a solid ten seconds before she vaulted the roof, landing on the street below. Her fall was graceful as a cat, to be expected of an acrobatic assassin. Her strut across the street was just as elegant, even with the small cuts in her outfit exposing her skin. What held his gaze was the number of kunai she still had in each hand. It almost resembled a hand fan with how many she clutched. She really had too many.
The glass window shattered.
The first kunai knocked a chair over as it found purchase in the wood. The force alone behind her throws… She wasn't playing games anymore. Her contract and pay were on the line now. They both knew it. Time was ticking, and she only had him as the last obstacle to get through.
"I'm getting close to finished!" Roquette yelled from her fortress.
Close.
The glass shattered again.
More chairs fell as more kunai were unleashed.
Cheshire picked up her gait to a sprint as she charged.
Here we go.
Percy slipped two Batarangs into his hands.
"Make it easy, boy, and roll over for me!" Cheshire yelled, her hand whipped forward a cluster of pointy objects and a ball being launched.
And Percy sent his own projectiles at hers.
CLINK!
PSSSH!
A cloud of smoke burst in the middle of the broken glass doorway. From it, five kunai flew past him, barely missing as they clattered into the far wall behind the counter.
Next, the chairs exploded towards him as Cheshire launched herself into the room.
He caught her flying kick with his forearms. The armor took the blunt force, and he felt his arms be pushed back from the strength of the blow. Like the tide, he went with the wave of energy. He stepped back, planted his feet, and brought back a wide swinging haymaker. She would block it or dodge it. However, if this connected anywhere on her body, he was breaking bones.
"Too slow," she hissed as she somersaulted backward.
He kept with the offense. He pushed her back to the front corner of the café. He had to keep her on the opposite end of the building.
He swung heavy strikes, debilitating strikes. He just needed one to land.
Yet. Cheshire kept dodging.
She was faster. She was moving before he was even halfway through the punch.
He felt her blade cut into his armor, not deep enough to his skin, but it gouged the armor no less.
He jabbed again at where she was, but his fist sailed through only air.
This isn't working.
He pulled away with his arms defensively raised.
Cheshire cocked her head as she straightened her mask. It must have gotten askew in her dodging. Could he use that? Force her to move so much that her mask would block her from being able to see properly? That should already have been taken care of when she first got the mask… unless Kaldur or Crock managed to damage it.
He studied her.
There was a cut just above her ear—a groove in the metal that likely cut the strap that secured the mask and some hair.
Crock must have just missed…
Percy rolled his neck in preparation for the next assault.
"I don't have time for standing around." Cheshire launched at him.
His forearm bracers met her blades, catching each hit before it could do anything damaging. Her kicks thudded into his padded ribs. Her slashes for his face met empty air as he backstepped away.
Her hits kept coming as fast as Robin's own, if not even quicker. As she kept exerting herself forward, spinning on a single foot as she used her momentum to feed her strikes, he watched her mask shift more and more around her face.
He just had to keep her spinning and moving.
He tanked a roundhouse kick, meeting the blow with a deflection as he used his other arm to grab one of her blades free. The weapon clattered to the ground.
He stepped back one more. He was in a puddle.
She planted her foot forward just inside the water's reach as she swung her blade from over her right shoulder. He dodged to his right, planted his right foot, and then launched back at her with his left shoulder.
Her efforts to evade failed. Her forward-planted foot slid on the water as he tackled her to the ground.
She recovered quickly, but not as quickly as he could follow up.
The two grappled, and Percy quickly came out on top through his superhuman strength. He had her pinned by her chest with one hand. He quickly shifted his body to hold down the rest of her body as he brought his free hand back for another blow.
He needed just enough force to knock her out.
"Hang on, Orpheus! I'm almost there to help you." Crock buzzed in his ear. He tilted his head ever so slightly at the surprise comm.
He felt himself being pulled back by his cape.
His head hit the floor, and he rolled preemptively of a follow-up attack. His cape came free from under Cheshire's shoes.
Very flexible and capable, Percy reminded himself.
The two met each other's glare. Cheshire's mask was askew, and she quickly fixed the issue by ridding herself of it. He watched the offending white and red mask clattered across the room close to the door. Blinking back his focus, he looked back to the woman, who shifted to a three-point stance.
"You are very frustrating. I hope you know that," Jade hissed. Her hair fell around her face. She looked completely different from her sister. Well, they had the same nose, actually. "I'm going to enjoy watching you die."
Like magic, a new blade appeared in her hand. He was getting really tired of all these blades.
"This one is going into your ribs," she purred, bringing the blade between her eyes. "Then, once I pull it free, your heart will stop beating. I will then jab it into the little good Doctor as well. I leave you both here, your blood pooling into one mess."
Crock, your sister is a maniac.
Percy shot off from his stance like a lineman firing off as when the football is snapped. Low and quick, he shot his hands out before him. He had to restrain her quickly. He had to incapacitate her quicker.
The two collided in a tangle of arms, but Percy never lost when it came to grappling and wrestling. He forced her to the ground. He let his body weight and armor sandwich her to the ground as he pinned her. He forced his arm under her neck and pulled her head back away from the ground as he began to choke her out.
It was working.
She was sputtering. Her arms were fighting and swinging at his, trying to break his hold.
But he remained firm.
He didn't lose.
He would beat her.
Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
His heart was in overdrive.
Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
His heart was beating too quickly.
He felt his hands start to go numb.
Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
The black of her hair began to blur with the black of his suit.
Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe!
Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
He fell to the side.
Distant laughter danced across his ears like music in the next room over.
Black hair draped over his face.
Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
"I won."
He felt a stinging pain as a blade was pulled free from his side. Warm blood filled his suit and onto his hand that sought his wound.
She stabbed him somewhere in the grapple. He didn't even feel it.
Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
His heartbeat was too fast.
She did something to him… her blade… it was coated in something….
The poison. Box jellyfish or the like.
Cardiac arrest.
Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
His heart would give out in a moment.
The assassin slowly began to stand off of his body.
Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
He needed the poison out.
It needed to be out.
He closed his eyes. He gritted his teeth.
He needed it out.
Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
A burn blossomed from his wound.
He could only surrender himself to his willpower.
OUT!
The poisoned blood had to be separated from his body.
By whatever goddess that called him son, he willed his desire to be free from the poison into his powers.
OUT!
"What are you doing?" Cheshire hissed. "Your hand… it is glowing."
His vision began to darken.
Where's my heartbeat? I'm too slow….
He was dying.
:P LINE BREAK d:
It was dark.
It was cold.
It was quiet.
Was this what it was like to die?
Would Thanatos or Hermes come to take him to Charon? He didn't have a drachma on him to grant him passage. Was he going to be stuck?
BUZZZT.
His eyes snapped open.
Ba bump. Ba bump.
His heart was still beating faster than normal, but it was beating all the same.
His chest burned over where his heart was, over where the logo of the bat lay. His suit had shocked his heart back into beating.
His vision, while still cloudy, was slowly beginning to focus. He forced himself to sit up on one arm. His other arm, drenched red, remained on his stab wound. His fatal stab wound.
More blood than what should have encircled him. Percy placed his hand into it to help him back to his feet, and the blood felt wrong for some reason. It felt thicker, like sandy water. Why did blood even feel like something besides blood?
He forced himself to stand, and his vision pulsed black.
He found himself leaning against a wall.
He shook his head, clearing the fog from his brain.
Right, he did just presumably die from cardiac arrest.
His eyes focused on the woman in green pulling away at his table fort. She was making progress.
Percy took a half step forward and almost fell. So, he fell back on the wall again. He was weak. Too weak to fight her. He was too out of it to even swing one punch.
He was beaten.
Dr. Roqutte would die on the goal line.
They would lose.
He stumbled forward. His body slid against the wall as he took small steps. The arm over his wound felt too weak to apply pressure any longer, and it dangled to his waist. He trudged forward. The arm swung limply as it smacked into his side. He took another step and another. His arm hit his belt, catching on the compartments.
Another step, and he was almost there.
Cheshire was almost there.
His hand caught on his belt again. Warmth kissed his fingers as they closed around a small cylinder…. A small pen.
Cheshire was going to kill the Doctor who was trying to save the lives of people in Gotham. She was trying to protect critical information centers from being stolen and used against the world.
The Doctor had to live.
He uncapped the pen.
His body weight should be enough leverage.
He pushed off the wall, unsteady.
Cheshire turned to him. Surprise exploded in her eyes as he fell into her.
The blade Poseidon had given him sunk into her ribs.
The two tumbled to the ground as Percy collapsed, exhausted.
His vision started to blur again, and he tried to blink through it. He had to see this through. He forced his gaze on his blade, on something to occupy his mind.
Blood coated his hand…
Cheshire meanwhile stared at the fixed point of the sword in her that was still limply in Percy's clutch. His head rested on her shoulder as the two lay there, staring at the blade. He was too exhausted to move. She was in too much shock to move, either.
"I'm not bleeding," she whispered. Her hand felt around the blade, even passing through the metal. "This is…" She turned to him, realization in her eyes. "Celestial bronze. Batman's mute prodigee is a demigod."
She pushed his head off her shoulder as she staggered to her feet. His blade fell harmlessly through her even as she felt up the point of entry of the phantom stab.
"You went for the kill."
Percy barely nodded.
"Then I'll have to kill you for that."
Cheshire drew another blade from somewhere as she stepped to the unmoving demigod. Percy couldn't even amount an effort to move as he saw her prepare a final blow.
This sucks.
"Drop it, Jade!" a new voice shouted from the entrance. "I will shoot you. This time, I won't clip your mask now that you aren't wearing it."
Crock!
Cheshire went for the blow regardless. Her arms swung down towards Percy's chest, the blade aimed at his heart.
Cling.
Her empty fists slammed into armor as her weapon and an arrow clattered to the ground.
"Step away from him, or the next arrow is the last arrow."
"I did it!" The sisters turned to the Doctor, who cheered. "The code has been uploaded, and Robin can deactivate The Fog. It's all over!"
They won!
The two sisters stared at one another while Percy remained still, focusing on breathing.
"Then it would seem my contract is null." Cheshire backed off of Percy, and her gaze turned to the Doctor. "Killing you off now would be pointless if we could use your skills again in the future."
"So, you are surrendering?" Crock asked, uncertain.
"Of course not, dear sister. It just means this is the part where I get creative and leave."
"I'm not letting you leave. So, maybe try surrendering yourself instead."
"Cute, sister. However, this is actually the part I drop a smoke pellet and leave through the back door."
Crock shook her head and repositioned herself in front of the door. "I'm not letting you leave again."
Cheshire's smile faltered momentarily before returning, "But that's the problem, isn't it?" She dropped a pellet. A cloud of smoke instantly covered the room. "I'm already gone."
When the smoke cleared, Jade Crock had vanished. Gone into thin air, just like the Cheshire cat.
Artemis Crock gave a cursory search regardless for her sister. Her bow was pulled back, ready to fire, as she checked the street. Yet, the archer saw no one. Instead, she ducked back inside, stowing her bow as her eyes finally found all the blood on the ground.
"Oh my gods, Orpheus." She slid to his side. Two fingers flew to his neck as she felt for a pulse. It was weak but there. She next found where all the blood was coming from as she pushed her hand over it. Red creeped out between her fingers. "It is going to be okay. I've got you. Doctor! Is there anything you can do?"
"I'm not that kind of doctor."
"Can you get me some rags then? I need to stop the blood flow."
"Of course," she agreed before climbing out of the barricade that shielded her. She dashed behind the counter and grabbed a few dish rags. "They don't look sterile." She offered them to Crock, who hesitated at the brown stains before agreeing and discarding the rags entirely.
Artemis would have to hold the pressure till the rest of the team arrived.
She reached for her communicator and pressed the call button just as a flash of silver illuminated the room. Worried, the girl turned to the source. Her hand came away from the call button, ending the transmission before she could mutter a word. Not that she would have as her mouth fell agape.
Roquette's eyes went fuzzy as she mindlessly walked out of the café and into the street.
The new arrival carefully stepped through the room. Her hiking shoes avoided the pools of water and blood alike as she made her way to the downed form of Percy Jackson.
Her hand traced over the bleeding wound. A silver glow emanated from her fingertips as the blood stopped leaking from his body. The wound closed, stitching itself back together, leaving only a small scar.
"Lady Artemis," Artemis Crock whispered with a bow of her head.
"It has been some years, has it not, young Artemis?" the moon goddess spoke back. Her eyes remained on the injured superhero. "Your skills have greatly improved."
"I still practice what you showed me that night."
"That is good." Lady Artemis smiled at Crock. "Practice makes perfect."
"Why… Why are you here?"
"Percy. Or rather, Orpheus, as you know him, is under my protection." The goddess stroked the boy's masked cheek gently. "We made a deal, after all, and I cannot let him die just yet. He still has his end of the bargain to hold up."
Crock frowned, "But he is a boy…. I thought…."
"Observant," the goddess chuckled, causing the mortal to blush. "He is an exception. He has an important fate for both our worlds. His gender can be ignored when such a fate weighs in the balance."
"He's a demigod, isn't he?"
"A very unique one."
"Is that why he doesn't speak?"
Artemis, the goddess, frowned, "He bears a curse from the blood he carries. It has robbed him of his ability to properly communicate by normal means."
"I see," Crock whispered. Her gaze shifted back to the boy. His mask was still on. His chest slowly rose and fell. It looked like he was asleep. "Will he be okay?"
"In time. He will need blood once you find your way back to your cave." Artemis gestured to the dirty blood pool behind them. "Through his powers, he has pulled the poison blood out of his system. Most of it, at least. It saved his life. Whether he realizes the blood magic he did or not, he pulled much blood from his body and bled out another large sum."
"You said blood magic?"
"Gifts from the blood in his veins. It's more of a curse at the end of the day. Blood magic is draining and expensive. He will be asleep for some time as his body recovers." Artemis pulled down the lower part of his mask. "he will breathe better like that."
"I'm at a loss of words," Crock whispered. "I never thought I would see you again."
Artemis smiled and rested a hand on her shoulder, "I told you that night we spoke. Your fate is not in my hunt, but I never said it was without my involvement."
"What does that even mean?"
"It means I have a favor to ask of you, Artemis Crock."
"Oh-ok."
Artemis locked her silver eyes with Crock's dark grey ones, "Will you protect Perseus Jackson with your life till he turns sixteen."
"My life?"
"Yes."
"Why? Why me?"
"Who better than you?"
"Superboy or even Superman. I mean, they are Kryptonians. They could do that easy."
"Perhaps, but they are not you."
"What is so special about me?"
"Everything." The goddess smiled. "You would've been the perfect huntress for eternity if Fate had chosen a different path for you."
"But Fate has already chosen my path, hasn't it?"
"You always have a choice."
"And if I choose not to protect him?"
"He will struggle. He will lose his path and stray. His mind will bend and break. He will find himself in the deep end with power unfathomable to a mortal and a choice to decide the fate of existence."
"I don't really feel like I have a choice."
"You always do, Young Artemis. Every day is your own."
"Well, I don't want the world to end, so I'll do it. I'll watch over him."
"Thank you, huntress. Should you ever feel lost, look no further than the night sky."
"I-Thank you."
The goddess stood and nodded to the girl who remained kneeling at Percy's side. Artemis snapped her hand, and magic wove its way around the room. The chairs and tables were reassembled back to their rightful places. Individual glass shards fused back to one panel. The blood and water evaporated.
The café looked like it had never been touched before. It looked brand new.
"The others cannot know." The goddess stepped to the exit, speaking over her shoulder. "You may speak to him freely, but not even Robin must know of the journey you have now set for yourself. As his protector, you must let him make mistakes so he can learn from them, but he cannot fail. Do you understand?"
"I-I think so."
"Then I wish you luck, Artemis Crock. Olympus and Mankind depend on your success."
Crock nodded, her gaze drifted to the sleeping demigod that she was now cradling. "I understand."
She looked to the goddess in the doorway, but she was gone.
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-Manke
