Chapter 6
*Steve Rodgers*
When I walked down to the containment facility (personally, I like saying that than prison) the kid started muttering to himself. It sounded like he was having a one-sided conversation.
“Where are you taking me?” After a minute. “Oh that’s oh so very helpful.” Pause. “What’s the torture this time?” I stopped walking. Torture? “Morpheus?” He started struggling, so I walked faster toward the facility. “Not again, what are you going to make me relive this time? Their deaths? All the people I’ve seen die, deaths? My abused childhood? A nightmare including the rest of the people I care about dying, like last time?” Abused childhood? Deaths? Dying? What last time? This had happened before? I then started walking even faster. I felt something wet on my back, he was crying.
“Leave me alone!” he shouted, just as I reached the facility and opened the door. He jumped out my grasp and punched me in the face. I staggered back from the force of the punch. When I looked back at him he was staggering back as well. I saw his eyes, they were glazed over, like he wasn’t awake. He turned around slowly in a defensive position like he was watching someone who was attacking him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m not pathetic! I don’t give up! Be quiet! Shut up!” Was he reliving something, or something? What was going on?
I went into a defensive position in case he attacked me again, he kept facing away from me though yelling things. The door opened, I glanced over quickly and saw Clint at the door. I turned back to the kid.
“Shut up!” He yelled, he then punched the air, he sidestepped, then did a roundhouse kick. Suddenly he fell and his head went up as if someone was pulling it up. He was still crying. “Please,” He pleaded to thin air. “I can’t watch it again, you’ve done enough already, save it for tomorrow, at least. I don’t think I can go through that again… not right now.” After a few seconds he flinched as if something or someone had hit him. He started crying harder. Then he started saying things. “It’s all my fault! I should’ve protected them, I could’ve saved them, but I didn’t. I’m so weak… so pathetic. I’m so sorry! I should’ve died, not you, not any of you!” He was started to curl in on himself, going into a small ball. He then repeated “It’s all my fault” To himself as he cried.
I glanced at Clint again, he looked horrified, and he was staring at the crying mess on the floor. He turned toward me, “What happened?” He asked.
I shrugged in response, though I knew exactly what it was-a flashback. I used to have them all the time, I sometimes relived things the way Percy did, physically and mentally. I didn’t want Clint to know that, though. I didn‘t want him to treat me any differently than he did now. I definitely didn’t want any pity or concern-so I lied. “Nightmare? How am I supposed to know? I’ve never seen anything like this before! Are we supposed to shake him to wake him up or leave him to wake up on his own?” I asked him, he shrugged in response as well.
Suddenly the sobbing stopped, Clint turned to Perseus and so did I. He was still curled in a ball, tears were still flowing down his face, but his eyes were clear, they weren’t glazed anymore. “Why isn’t it getting better?” He whispered to himself. “Why is it only getting worse? Each time I fall asleep I relive something else, and it’s so vivid it’s like it’s happening all over again. I can feel everything and I feel as if I’m going through it physically as well. It’s - it’s so frustrating!” He sounded deeply angered with himself, and with every sentence his voice grew into a yell at the end. “I wish there was, like, some sort of dream blocking machine that made just inky blackness appear when I fall asleep…” He muttered, sounding wistful.
I cleared my throat awkwardly, he snapped up to look at us and wiped his tears away like he didn’t care that we just saw him cry his eyes out in a horrible nightmare, and maybe he didn’t, who's to know? “What?” He asked nonchalantly. “Can’t a guy cry without being judged? Sheesh!” He stood and looked at his shoulder. He broke off the pointed tip, then pulled the arrow through with a grimace.
“Clint, I’ll get the director, you… stay here.” I said, then I sprinted down the hallway down to the conference room. When I got inside, Fury was standing there waiting. He raised an eyebrow at me, but otherwise didn’t react. “Sir, he’s awake.” I informed.
Fury nodded, “Bring him in.” He ordered.
“Yes sir.” I then went back to containment facility. When I got there Percy was sitting in the corner staring down at the floor. Clint himself was leaning in the door frame with his arms crossed looking bored.
When I arrived he pushed himself off the wall and said, “It’s about time you got here. The whole time we were just sitting in an awkward silence. It became very… weird.” The kid snorted.
“The Director wants to see you, Perseus,” I said.
He flinched, then looked up and glared at me, “It’s Percy.” He said forcefully.
I sighed, but gestured for him to come with me. “Take the back Clint.” I ordered, he nodded, then moved to let Percy through the doors. I started off down the hallway back to the conference room, hoping beyond hopes that Fury would take it easy on the kid, though it would be impossible for him to do so. I sighed in frustration, this had turned out to be even more weird than I had anticipated.