-• •- - •- ••• •••• •-

These were strange children. 

At least, the Captain seemed to think so and given her less-than-normal past, Natasha was inclined to believe him. 

To Natasha, they felt… well, they seemed to be the same as she was.

Sure they had a strange bronze dragon and inhuman abilities, but she’d seen stranger things. Or at least things that were similarly strange. Besides, her familiarity with them went far past such details. 

They had that familiar steel in their eyes, like they’d faced death before and expected to again. 

Even this small enthusiastic one, Pyre, had that battle-born seriousness like a foundation of bedrock buried beneath his jokes and bluster. 

As they flew towards the tower she found her eyes following him as he shot white-hot flames from his fingers gleefully, nailing Chitauri soldiers with a deadly accuracy as they passed by. He had a slight southern accent and his smile was far too wide at times to be genuine.

She looked back and cursed under her breath. One of the chariots was hot on their tail, Loki himself steering it with a wide smirk.

“Pyre.” She said, abruptly cutting off his rapid stream of chatter. “We’ve got company.” Pyre twisted around to look behind them.

“Man, that guy has worse fashion sense than Ephialtes and Otis!” He exclaimed, looking almost offended. 

“What?” Natasha asked, confused. That was not the correct response to being followed. What kind of name was Ephialtes. anyways? 

“Long story.” Pyre said dismissively. “I got him.” He sent one of his bursts of flame at Loki, who swerved to dodge it and came up beside them. 

Cursing in a mixture of Spanish and some strange language she didn’t recognize, he rifled through his toolbelt’s pockets before pulling out a metal sphere. He chucked it at Loki, who caught it one hand without even looking. 

Pyre smirked dangerously and the sphere burst to life, setting off a small explosion like a firecracker before sprouting hundreds of wiry cords that wrapped around Loki’s arms and legs, binding him efficiently. He tumbled from the chariot, put off balance by the sudden assault, only to be caught by the Hulk and shoved through the glass windows of Stark Tower.

“What on earth was that?” Natasha asked, both alarmed and impressed. She’d never seen anything quite like it before. Those wires had seemed almost sentient.

“That was one of my spheres, Senorita.” Pyre smiled broadly and steered his dragon to land on the rooftop. 

“I can take it from here, Pyre.” She said, jumping dexterously from the dragon’s back. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Any time.” Pyre said, giving a jaunty salute and a wink before guiding the dragon to take off and swooping down towards the streets below. 

Natasha turned towards the strange contraption that was the source of all their problems. Selvig was laying near it, looking half-dead already.

“Doctor.” She said cautiously, hand hovering over the gun at her thigh, but when his face turned to hers his eyes were clear and he looked far too pained to still be under Loki’s control.

“Loki's scepter, the energy,” he mused, seeming almost to be talking to himself. “The Tesseract can't fight it. You can't protect against yourself.”

Natasha shook her head comfortingly, “It's not your fault. You didn't know what you were doing.”

“Well, actually I think I did,” the man said slowly. “I built in a safety to cut the power source.”

Her eyes widened in realization. “Loki's scepter.”

He nodded. “It might be able to close the portal.” He turned his head, peering over the edge of the platform “And I'm looking right at it.”

Natasha smirked.

-•-• •-•• •• -• -

As embarrassing as it was, Clint wasn’t really all that useful without his arrows. Sure he could relay information and he was good in close combat, but Natasha was better at both of those things than he was. 

Take away his ammunition and Clint was pretty much just your average Joe. 

Well. 

If your average Joe also happened to be able to fight off five men without breaking a sweat, that is. 

At least his hearing aids were still working. (He’d been able to switch out the batteries at the Helipad earlier) He’d be even more useless without them. 

In any case, he had enough battle sense to know that he wasn’t exactly much use against these aliens at the moment. 

So instead he began shepherding people to the police barrier or to subway tunnels, getting as many civilians out of the line of fire as possible. To his surprise, it seemed like most of them had already been led out. Maybe some police officers had been directing the flow of people.

He kept searching for stragglers as he listened to the voices buzzing over his coms with baited breath. 

Clint set down the kid he’d been carrying and nodded towards one of her dads, who had her brother in one arm and was cradling a gash on his side with his other. The four of them were greeted by officers who absorbed them into the pack of first-responders.

“I can close it!” Natasha’s voice crackled in his ears. “Can anybody hear me? I can shut the portal down!” Oh, well that was good news. Maybe they weren’t all doomed after all.

“Do it!” came Cap’s orders.

“No, wait!” Stark interrupted abruptly.. 

“Stark, these things are still coming!” Cap protested.

“I got a nuke coming in, it's gonna blow in less than a minute,” 

Well that’s not ideal. Clint thought with a stiff frown, his arm wrapped around the waist of a hobbling woman with an injured leg. 

Nuclear bombings were always a pain to cover up. 

Though seeing as he was currently in the blast zone, it seemed like that was someone else’s problem. He opened his mouth to make a snarky comment to Nat, but thought better of it. If they were going to die in less than a minute there was no use causing mass panic for the sake of a couple of laughs.

Clint could almost hear Stark’s smirk over the line as he continued. “And I know just where to put it.”

He raised his eyes and saw a red and gold streak flying overhead, a white missile held in its arms. It was heading towards the portal. 

Well that would effectively solve one problem with the other. I approve.

“Stark, you know that's a one-way trip?” Cap’s voice said somberly. 

Oh right, Stark would probably die. It’s not like the iron man suit was made for space travel.

There was no response.

The streak flew through the portal and disappeared from view. An orange glow emanated from the portal and all around them Chitauri warriors shuddered and fell to the ground. The police officers who had been holding the blockade rushed out to help as it became clear they weren’t getting up again.

“Close it.” Cap said.

Clint cursed and pulled his charge out of the way of a falling Chitauri chariot. He kept his eyes fixed on the sky, where the portal was shrinking steadily. Come on, Stark. 

A golden-red speck fell through the portal just as it closed. 

“Son of a gun!” Cap said, his grin evident. 

But something was wrong. Stark was limp in the sky as he fell, no sign of his blasters, and he was gaining speed rapidly. 

He’s not slowing down. Clint thought, dread collecting in his stomach. He passed the woman off to a passing police officer. 

Well. Guess he’s dead. We should start preparing for the power void in technology-based companies.

He heard the echoes of Hulk’s roar through his com unit, and then a faint echo of Stark’s voice “What the hell? What just happened?” 

What the hell? That’s Stark’s voice. 

“Please tell me nobody kissed me.” 

Apparently those fancy metal suits were more airtight than he had given them credit for. Could they be used for space exploration? He wondered idly.

“We won.” Cap answered. That’s not a very specific answer. Then again Cap had never seemed to be in the mood to give those.

“Well that was certainly touching, but the aliens were kind of only the most recent in a long line of problems here.” Clint drawled. “What happened to Loki? And where are all of you?”

“Loki is currently tied up in Stark Tower.” Nat’s voice informed him. “Thor, Hulk and I are here with him. Trust me, he’s not going anywhere.”

“You’re right though, Barton.” Cap cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We’re not done here. We’ve got some kids to deal with.”

“Kids?” Clint asked incredulously. “What do you mean, kids?”

“Hey, you’re one of the heroes, right?” A hoarse voice asked. He turned to see a teenager with choppy brown hair and an icy sword. “The one with a bow and arrow. Do you have training in first aid?”

Man, word got around fast these days. His bow was collapsed and tucked in his quiver, how had she even recognized him? 

“Uh… It’s Hawkeye, yes I know first aid, and who are you exactly?.” 

“Well, Hawkeye, you can call me Siren. We could use some extra hands at the Museum of Modern Art.” The girl, Siren, said seriously. He matched her expression, turning to her more fully.

“How can I help?” 

•--• • •-• -•-• -•--

When the alien dudes he was fighting suddenly dropped like puppets with their strings cut, Percy flinched, certain that he’d turn to see Morpheus walking down the streets to prepare the city for Kronos. 

Panic rose in his chest. Everyone else was back at camp and he didn’t have the blessing of Achilles —the gash on his arm and cut on his brow was proof of that— there was no way he’d survive. 

“Riptide.” A voice shouted from further down the street. 

That’s right, he still had Riptide. 

He’d go down fighting. 

Footsteps crunched behind him. The monsters were coming. He turned and slashed his sword in one smooth movement, the blade phasing through a very confused looking mortal in a frankly embarrassing outfit of stars and stripes.

Wait. 

If all the mortals were asleep, how was this guy standing here very much not asleep?

Then he remembered that Kronos had been dead for over two years and Morpheus had calmed down a lot since getting his own cabin. He was almost certainly not behind this, he had no reason to suddenly put aliens to sleep. Percy blinked deliberately and took a breath. 

Gods, this battle brought back memories.  

“Captain.” Percy drawled. “You wouldn’t happen to know why all of my opponents suddenly decided to drop it like it’s hot, would you”

The Captain looked, if possible, even more confused at that. He saw him mouth the words ‘drop it like it’s hot’ and had to suppress a chuckle. Nothing like messing with a boomer to cheer you up. Is Captain America a baby boomer? He’d have to ask Annabeth later.

His eyes scanned over his surroundings. Annabeth was making her way over with some guy who had a strange glowing symbol in his chest— was that the flying metal dude? 

He must’ve lost his metal suit.

The portal was gone. That was probably the reason the aliens had dropped. Maybe they were some kind of hive mind and the distance was too great without the portal?

“Stark blew up the mothership with a nuclear missile.” the Captain supplied, evidently having given up on figuring out the phrase.

Well that’d do it. 

“Wait,” Percy scowled, holding up a hand. “Who’s Stark, and where did he get a nuclear missile?”

“Seriously?” flying-metal-dude asked, sounding offended. “How do you not recognize the name Stark? Have you been living under a rock?” 

“What, is he important? I’ve never heard of him.” He looked to Annabeth for help. She just sighed and pointed at flying-metal-dude.

Oh. 

Flying-metal-dude was Stark. He looked pretty pissed so Percy faked a look of realization. “Right. Stark.” He said in his most over the top awed voice. “My bad, I just couldn’t believe I was in your presence. It’s an honor.”

Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. What? That kind of thing works on gods. It should work on humans, right? 

Unless he’d come across as sarcastic instead. 

He had a tendency to do that. 

Mostly because he was actually being sarcastic a majority of the time.

Captain America seemed to be holding in a laugh with difficulty. 

Right, that sounded sarcastic then. 

Oops. 

“I like you, kid. You’ve got spunk.” Stark snorted. “Apparently some ominous ‘council’ decided that the best course of action to save the world was to blow up Manhattan along with all the aliens.”

“I’m sorry, they did what?” Gods, if mortals had bombed the entrance to mount olympus? Percy shuddered to think what would’ve happened. Not even the most laid back of gods would have stood such an insult. Plagues, storms, earthquakes, volcanoes, fires, you name it, it would’ve happened.

“I know, son.” the Captain said, shaking his head. “They would’ve sacrificed millions of lives unnecessarily.”

They all could’ve died. 

His family, his friends, Annabeth. 

Rage boiled in his veins.

“Tactically, that might have been the best option.” Annabeth said seriously. The Captain looked at her incredulously. “There was no guarantee that we would have been able to close the portal,” She said, waving to Stark Tower. “Cutting off the aliens at their source and destroying the portal as well as whoever made it in one fell swoop is a decent plan. A city can be rebuilt, but if the world gets taken it’s game over.”

“You good there, Hercules?” Stark asked. “You look a little green around the gills.” 

A sharp tug pulled at his gut. “What did you just call me?” he snarled. Dark blood pooled at his feet and rose with his clenching fists. He took a step forward, pulsing with fury. His eyes were focused on the man in front of him, but he felt a watery body approaching him from the left. Annabeth-mate-protect, his brain supplied. 

Another body stepped towards him. Threat-soldier-angerous, attack. He raised a hand and the soldier froze, the water in his body holding him still. His head swivelled and locked onto the threat. He was pale, still as a statue. 

“Hey!” Annabeth’s voice cut through his mind like a knife. “Too far!” She sounded angry-scared-unsure. His brow furrowed in confusion. He’d just been protecting her. There was a threat and now there wasn’t. He hadn’t even hurt anyone, just frozen them. 

He turned to look at her just in time to see her raising an uncapped water bottle over his head. She tipped it and water streamed down his face and the back of his neck. His head cleared instantly and he yelped, releasing his hold on the Captain. He heard a deep inhale and spluttering behind him. 

Crap. He’d frozen the Captain’s whole body using his blood. 

That meant he hadn’t been moving, sure, but it also meant he hadn’t been breathing. 

Oh gods he’d almost killed Captain America.

“Oh gods I almost killed Captain America.”

“Yeah, Seaweed brain.” Annabeth snapped, but she sounded relieved beneath the anger. “No more bloodbending for you. I don’t care if you want to be like Katara, I don’t like what it does to you.”

“Y-yeah, that’s fair.” He said shakily, wiping his forehead. His hand came away red with blud, but the cut had been healed by the water. “That was weird. It was like I couldn’t even think. I just went into wolf mode.”

“Wolf mode?” Annabeth asked, looking somewhere between disturbed and amused. “Is your time with Lupa finally catching up with you? Should I be worried you’re going to start scent-marking me?”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” He said, rolling his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” Stark said angrily. “What the hell was that?” 

“Don’t mind my boyfriend.” Annabeth said, having settled firmly in amusement. “He was socialized by wolves and really hates Hercules.”

“Hey!” Percy yelped in offense. 

“Where’s the lie?”

“Are you calling my mother a wolf?”

“Are you calling Lupa your mother now? That’s just a whole new level of sad.” 

“I was seventeen when I met Lupa. I’d already been socialized!”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night.” Annabeth smirked and patted his shoulder teasingly.

“This is cute and all, but it doesn’t explain why Mr. Stars-and-Stripes himself is over there wheezing like the old man we all know he is.” Stark said, gesturing to the Captain, who had his arms over his head and was breathing heavily.

“Thanks for that, Stark,” Cap deadpanned. “Makes me feel much better.” 

“You’re welcome,” he directed towards his teammate, ignoring the sarcasm. “Besides,” he turned to Percy. “What kind of person doesn’t like Hercules? That’s a great movie!”

“I’m talking about the actual Hercules. He’s a terrible person and I’m nothing like him. I’m not wrathful or insane, and I looked way better in that lion skin than he could ever dream of,” He turned to Annabeth. “Right?”

“Of course.” Annabeth said agreeably, patting his arm in a way that was somehow both patronizing and annoyingly comforting. He let himself melt into her for a moment, pulling her closer. 

“Well.” Percy said, straightening and clearing his throat to ease the knot that had swelled there. “No use just standing around. We should help the others with search and rescue. How long until the heale— first responders can get to the MOMA?” He began walking toward the museum, Annabeth keeping pace as the two men exchanged confused looks at the sudden shift.

“With the rubble and aliens strewn over the streets? Could be an hour, maybe a little less.” Annabeth mused. “There’s going to be too many people to handle, no matter what we do. Hospitals will overflow, people will need to be transferred farther away. We should keep the infirmary up as long as we can to help with that.”

“Raphael might run out of steam. It’s just him in there.” 

“He’ll do what it takes to save as many lives as he can.”

“He just turned sixteen.” Percy protested.

“Your point?” Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “We have to do everything we can to save as many lives as possible.”

“You’re right.” He said, sighing. “I just feel like we’re putting too much pressure on him. He can’t save everyone.”

“If Arion can shuttle people to farther hospitals we’d be able to speed things up so he wouldn’t be needed for as long.” She offered. 

He nodded in relief. “Fai and Festus could probably help with that.” He suggested. 

“That only leaves Siren and the two of us with search and rescue, but since there are first responders out here now that should be fine. We’ll be slower, of course, but every little bit helps, right?” Annabeth turned to him for confirmation and he nodded in agreement.

“So I don’t know any of the people you just talked about, but I have some first aid training and Stark probably has another suit he could use to shuttle people around.” the Captain said. Percy narrowed his eyes. 

He’d just assumed they were going to tag along awkwardly like lost ducklings. Why speak now, and not earlier?

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll tell the others.” Annabeth agreed. She clicked her tongue three times. 

“You may have noticed that the aliens have collectively decided to take a nap.” She said, “The portal’s closed and first responders are on the way, but that doesn’t mean we can all go home. We’re gonna help with cleanup, so listen closely.”