Chapter 3
Percy
Thor guided Percy to his new room at the top of the tower. It was pretty empty, but it was still awesome.
Not like Percy really cared, though.
“You can rest now, if you want to,” Thor told Percy as the latter examined his new room, but resting was far from Percy’s thoughts.
The demigod turned around suddenly. “Can we train?” Thor’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree as they filled with hope.
“Can we spar?” Thor basically pleaded.
Percy agreed, of course.
Thor led the way to a big training room some floors down from the living quarters. It was huge, loaded with everything you could need to practice any sport you can think of (and those you can’t think of, too, trust me). Imagine a gym, now multiply it over one hundred. You're still not even close to understanding the size of the place.
The two men approached a wall with hundreds of swords from which Thor chose one. Percy just took Riptide out of his pocket; he didn’t need any other sword.
They went to an empty space and prepared themselves. The god really looked like a little kid in Christmas, it made Percy laugh a little. Was he really that famous?
Percy wasn’t oblivious about the cameras in the place, so he faced the wall to cover how his pen turned into an amazing bronze sword, ready for any opponent.
Thor almost fainted.
Both of them got ready, looking at each other and analyzing their posture, their weak points, their experience. Percy was the first one to attack, his moves too fast to follow, but Thor somehow blocked the blow. In response, the god tried to hit the demigod’s side. Percy dodged, moving to the left and raising his sword in defense, waiting patiently for another attack.
The god wasn't exactly bad, but it was obvious that he wasn't used to swords. For this, Percy was containing himself; he didn't want to hurt Thor too much. Then Percy gave up on this, he didn't like restraining himself, least if he had Riptide in his hands and a godly opponent.
Thor must have seen the look in his face before the younger one sent another blow because he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "I'm doomed".
Percy started sending blow after blow, but Thor was keeping up with him. However, landing a blow wasn’t Percy’s goal at the moment. No, his goal was to distract the god with desperation until his defenses weakened. And it worked.
Percy’s last blow was directed to a weak point he had easily spotted. It wasn't too large but it was definitely enough for him. He hit the god with the blade in the hip, rapidly turning his sword to Thor's shoulder as he lowered his weapon to defend his hips. But Percy had hit him there what felt like a year ago, as his ADHD slowed everything and made him deadly precise. He managed to hit his target with the hilt but left the blade downwards to defend his otherwise vulnerable ribcage.
Thor almost fell backwards due to the strength of the hit, but he was a god, he was strong too. He tried to slash Percy's chest (key word being tried). It was easy for Percy to turn Riptide a little to the right to avoid being cut in half. Thor then raised his sword above his head to add strength to what he hoped would be the final blow, directed to the demigod’s shoulder.
But again, this was Percy Jackson.
What a mistake it was to leave his whole body defenseless for more than half a second. The younger one hit the god with the blade in his left leg, careful so as to not make a big cut, just enough to deconcentrate the god and make his blow fail to hit its target. It did, leaving once again an uncovered spot in his own shoulder as the sword went down. You could see in Thor's face that he knew he had been beaten; the last failed blow he sent couldn't be stopped fast enough to protect himself.
Dam gravity, I guess.
Percy hit Thor's shoulder, pushing him to the side with its force as he uselessly tried to raise his sword again to defend himself. He tried to slash Percy's neck blindly while the world turned around him. Percy easily ducked and kicked the side of the god's right knee, sending him straight to the floor. Thor tried to get up, but, in less than a second, he already had Riptide centimeters away from his neck.
"Yield?"
"Yield." They smiled. It had been a good fight for both of them, even if it had lasted less than 5 minutes: Thor had fought with the hero he admired and Percy had almost forgotten about the new prophecy. Almost.
"What the hell was that?" Percy snapped his head to the source of the noise, Riptide held high, but he flinched at the mention of the word “hell”. The spectators were too busy trying to register the fight they had just seen to question it, though.
Percy lowered Riptide and left it in the floor; it would soon appear in his pocket again in pen form. He stood up, offering the god on the floor a hand. Thor took it, grateful, and stood beside Percy. They were just a little agitated, clearly not as much as the people watching thought they would be.
"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies," Percy smirked as he told the one who spoke, the seemingly normal man who now wore a lab coat.
"No but seriously, what was that?" This time it was Flags who asked. Percy realized then that he still didn't know their names.
"That was a sword-fight. Now, can you please present yourselves. It's getting annoying to call you by stupid nicknames."
"So you mean to tell us that you really don't know who we are? I understand if you don't recognize them, but me? Seriously?" a man Percy had never seen before spoke, presumably the one of the metal suit. He had dark hair and seemed to be in his middle forties. Percy spotted in his hands the grease he usually saw in Leo's hands. This guy must have built his own suit, then. Interesting.
"Okay. I'm Bruce Banner. Better known as the Hulk," the lab-coat guy presented himself. The last part was said carefully, as if he were expecting Percy to suddenly throw him a sword when he revealed his identity.
Percy's eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh, you're the scientist my fiancée always speaks about! She really loves your books." Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded. "What? Is there something in my face?" Percy was genuinely confused.
"No... It's just that no one ever- It doesn't matter.” The man sighed and decided not to explain; it wasn’t worth the effort. “I'm Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America."
"That explains why you were wearing a flag," Percy said and then saw the team trying to cover their laughter with coughs. Steve just rolled his eyes, seeming more amused than annoyed. So he didn't mind people laughing at him. Interesting.
"I'm Clint Barton or Hawkeye," the next one presented himself when the “coughs” finally stopped.
"I already had enough with Thalia and Frank with their bows. Another one? Seriously?" he muttered. Clint and the red-haired woman seemed to hear him anyway but didn't understand what he said. Percy noticed they were both good at hearing the lowest sounds and paid attention to every movement he did. Interesting.
"I'm Natasha Romanoff or the Black Widow," the woman said. The demigod nodded once to show he had heard and then turned to the last person in the room.
"Last but not least, I'm Tony Stark. Maybe you know me by the name Iron Man," he said and then seemed utterly shocked when Percy shook his head. Great ego? False facade? Percy had some investigation to do.
"You already know me, Perseus-" Thor started speaking but was suddenly interrupted.
"Percy," he corrected. "And this goes to all of you. Don't call me by my complete name, please."
"Why?" Bruce asked, curious.
"Only my enemies call me that. I don't like it."
"I am sorry if I bothered you, young Percy,” Thor apologized before anyone could question him about his enemies. “As I was saying, you already know who I am." A somehow friendly thunder was heard outside.
"Another drama queen. Just nice." Percy threw his hands up in exasperation as another thunder, less friendly this time, sounded. "You know it's true!" The Avengers were confused, trying to figure out why was Percy talking to the ceiling and why had Thor made that last thunder. It had actually been Zeus, but they couldn't know that.
"Now that all presentations are over,” Tony started calmly, “I want to go back to the fact that you both were sword-fighting to death!" His voice rose as he said the last part. Percy actually laughed at this. I mean, a real laugh. He doubled over when his stomach started hurting too much to stay standing straight, and ended up in the floor, still laughing and now even spilling a few tears of mirth.
"That- A sword-fight to death?!" Thor smiled sadly at him, being the only one who understood why it was so funny for Percy that they believed that was bad enough to end up in death. The others were clearly clueless. It seemed bad enough for them.
It took a whole minute for Percy to finally calm down and stand up straight again.
"No, that was just a little warm up. Sword-fights to death tend to be more... rough and aggressive," Percy answered Tony's question, speaking from experience.
Stark blinked. "’A little warm up', you say?”
Steve intervened. “There's no way that was a warm up. I have a serum that makes me a super soldier and not even I, with my enhanced physical traits, consider that ‘just a little warm up'. And how is there anything more aggressive than what we saw? It seemed pretty aggressive." Percy looked like he was trying not go laugh again but memories from all the people that had actually tried to kill him in a sword-fight appeared in his mind all of a sudden. His expression darkened.
"Oh, believe me, this was, and I can’t stress this enough, nothing compared to sword-fights to death."
Percy got lost in thought. Thor shook his head at his team, silently telling them not to ask any further. They stayed quiet for some seconds until Bruce spoke up again.
"I need to make you a check-up, then. If this was too much even for a super soldier and not for you then I need to see what else you've got." Percy just nodded absent-mindedly before following the man's instructions. “For now, I want to see your strength compared to Steve's. I think I remember you lifting the Hulk up; I need to see that. Both of you go and do push-ups. I'll be counting out loud for you."
Percy and Steve went to the empty spot were Thor and him had done their match less than an hour ago, and the demigod noticed that Riptide had already disappeared and was back in his pocket.
The super soldier and the demigod both laid face down and started to do the push-ups Bruce asked them to do in synchrony.
But Percy was still lost in thought, remembering thousands of battles. He was moving in auto-pilot, not really paying any attention. His mind wandered through a tornado of memories.
He remembered the time when he fought Ethan Nakamura; he had been told to kill him, but Percy just couldn't.
He also remembered his half-brother Antaeus, whom he also fought in the labyrinth. He had killed him. Percy tried reassuring himself saying he had only killed him because he was a giant and was keeping him and his friends prisoners.
Then his mind took him to a previous memory, in the Princess Andromeda with Luke. He had been so close to death that time...
"That's it, he doesn’t even look tired!" the soldier exclaimed, now sprawled in the floor. His voice snapped Percy back to the present, where he realized he was still doing push-ups.
"How could you beat Steve? He's basically the strongest man on Earth!" Bruce nearly shouted, but he couldn’t be blamed. He was shocked, and he had a good reason to be.
"Are we going to take into account the fact that Percy’s barely sweating? And that he was already training before we arrived?” Stark said. “What the hell, kid?" Again, Percy shuddered slightly at the mention of hell. Bad memories.
"Language." Guess who said that.
"I'm gonna tell you this once and I hope I don't have to repeat it: I am not a kid," Percy said, emphasizing each of the words of the last phrase to make them sound loud and clear. No one contradicted him; it probably had to do with the wolf look on his eyes.
"Alright..." Natasha said then, breaking the awkward silence.
"How many push-ups did I do? I'm curious," Percy asked, switching back to the childish behavior and pointing to Steve, who was still on the floor.
"Six hundred and seventeen," Bruce answered. He was writing everything down in a paper. Where did the paper come from? Nobody knows.
"You understand that normal people usually can't do six hundred and seventeen push-ups, don’t you?" Clint asked, raising one eyebrow. In response he got a smirk filled with mischief.
"Bold of you to assume I'm normal."