Agent Flame Wave

Immortals in Helicarrier

Percy accelerated his motorbike faster through the air. He could see SHIELD helicarrier looming above in the grey sky, partially hidden by clouds. The air was still fresh and cool from the recent rain.

He swerved the bike and took a rough turn sideways, overtaking a quinjet passing through the open doors of the hangar, narrowly missing the blades of the aerial vehicle. He crashed to a halt inches away from some crates with high explosives. The agents unloading the crates gave him annoyed looks, but he brushed them off.

Fury was in his office, like he predicted, but there were three others with him, like he did not predict. He's first thought after seeing them was to turn back, exit through the same door he entered and go as far as possible. And he almost did that.

'Agent Jackson?' Fury said with a warning tone.

He turned back, rather reluctantly. 'It's ok, I wasn't going anywhere.'

'Percy?' Poseidon asked.

'Hey dad,' he greeted.

'Hey Perce,' Hermes waved.

'Hi,' he nodded. 'Hello Athena.' He leaned against the wall.

Athena glared at him. He wondered what he had done to offend her, apart from being polite enough to say hello. Absolutely nothing.

'You remember we have some comatose demigods under our custody?' Fury asked.

'Yes! I saw the last night in the infirmary. They looked pretty dead.'

'What were you doing in the infirmary?' his father asked. 'Did you get hurt?'

Percy would see the worry in his eyes, so he held up his gloved right hand and plucked the black leather off, showing his bandaged palm. 'Getting hurt pretty much sums up my life.' He got a quick, unwelcome flash of Tartarus's face.

Tartarus smirked at him with sadistic, glowing red eyes which looked as twisted as the knife in his hand. Percy actually considered giving in. It wouldn't be as bad as this if he did. And he seriously can't live on like this much longer.

Percy blinked.

The black cloth moved. There was a flash of silver, the edge of a knife. But it looked to thin and pointy to be a knife...

Percy blinked again, this time momentarily squeezing his eyes shut.

'Are you alright?' Poseidon stared at him.

'Undeniably,' he said, putting his glove back on. He didn't like that the whole room was looking at him.

And he also didn't like the flashback he just got. It took him nine months to get them under control! Nine months of patience, punching bags and bullets, after which he had successfully locked them in the part of his brain he'll never open. And now that the world he left (not completely, there was always Thor and Riptide) came back to him, he knew it would be a major blow to the tower of his efforts. But he would not let it crumble. And the only way to do that was to ensure that the distance is maintained between him and everything related to his past. Well, except Blackjack and Mrs. O'Leary.

'On a not so very completely different note, there has been another prophecy,' Hermes casually said to Percy.

Percy groaned. He knew the wave was coming. But he was hoping he could jump high enough to avoid it. He didn't think that when he'll land, he'll still be in the water.

'So what's that got to do with me?'

'Or us?' Fury enquired. 'If you want your demigods, we are happy to oblige. However we can't say the same about our interference in your battles.'