Percy Jackson Avenger and S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent

2018 (6)

Awareness returned to me a little bit at a time, as if sluggishly surfacing from the bottom of a murky lake.

Sound was first: a soft ambient level, some talking. Feet thundered dully in the distance.

Next came feeling: scratchy blankets, a dull ache through my midriff and the general debilitating weight of limbs stiffened with exertion and exhaustion. My eyelids felt gummed together, and I really wasn't particularly interested in waking up fully, but by the time I was aware enough to make that decision, I was awake anyway.

So I carefully pried open my eyelids, to see the ceiling of the camp infirmary above my head, all lit with a soft, yellow glow, much unlike the harsh and searching strip lights way back when at S.H.I.E.L.D.

To be brutally honest, I was actually pretty surprised to be waking up at all, so I didn't complain about the obvious lack of good drugs or 'nurse call' button that I was accustomed to post-injury (getting spoilt, wasn't I).

As I tried to pull myself upright to a sitting position, about six different Apollo campers sprinted towards me from different directions, all of them simultaneously trying to push me back down onto my back. All were frazzled to varying degrees.

Will glared down at me. "You are an absolute nightmare to keep on bedrest; you know that, right? Because this is the fourth time you've attempted to get out of bed in three days, and you haven't been happy the last few times we've had to force you back down."

That would explain the sheer number of Apollo kids that had charged at me at once.

"Cool, well I don't remember any of that. Is that normal?"

Will sort of shrugged. "Dad said that it was likely that you wouldn't remember the first few times you woke up, but I can't say that magic healing of any kind can be considered normal."

"Good to know." I relaxed back into my pillow for a couple of seconds, before shooting up again (and getting shoved down again), cursing internally at what was almost definitely several torn abdominal muscles (probably severed, come to think of it). "Wait, did you say your dad?"

"Yeah." Will shrugged.

"Why is he concerned with my medical condition?"

Will scratched the back of his neck. Is that a nervous tic for all demigods? "Erm, the gods wanted to reward you for your role in the battle of Olympus, so Dad may or may not have been checking in on you every day to see when they could feasibly get you to Olympus for the ceremony. Also, you were almost dead and would almost definitely have been without divine intervention."

That sounded like a pretty intense award ceremony for me just doing my job.

Not to mention that almost dying is not a good thing to tack onto the end of something like that.

I did a good impression of a gaping fish for a couple of moments, before gathering my (few) thoughts and formulating the slightly pressing question. "So, if he intervened in my healing, why does it still hurt like a goddamn bitch?"

Will sighed. "Zeus seemed to think that healing any of us fully would mean that we wouldn't learn our lesson. He wants this fight to be a warning to us all about the costs of joining the dark side, as such, so Dad was just allowed to fix things that would result in death, like the sword's curse and multiple ruptured organs." (The unimpressed way in which he looked at me suggested that he was listing my injuries in particular.)

As you do.

"One final question: when will I be 'able' to go to Olympus?"

A smile pulled at the corner of Will's mouth, and he shrugged. "Not today, but probably as soon as you can walk under your own steam. Zeus is not known for being patient. Speaking of patients, I think we should leave you now, as long as I can assume that you're not about to do something that is fundamentally stupid. You think you can manage that for me?"