A Game of Gods and Grit (PJO/MCU Crossover)

Chapter Ten

"You and Peter got along great," Tony patted Percy on the back after Peter had left the party. Percy smiled, nodding.

"It was nice to actually speak to someone my age again," he agreed. "We had a lot in common."

"I could tell. You guys were laughing and talking non-stop," Tony paused, then smiled. "I haven't seen him that happy or comfortable in months. Not since..." he trailed off.

"Since what?" Percy asked, then caught himself. "Actually, never mind. It's not my place to ask."

"No, no, it's fine. It's just that he lost his girlfriend, Gwen, about five months ago, when he was trying to save her," he explained. "He blames himself but we all know it's not his fault. She fell to her death and he jumped after her. He couldn't..."

Percy shuddered, thinking of Annabeth falling into Tartarus and how he'd gone down with her. "Gods."

"Yeah. He locked himself in his room for months, retired from the Spider-Man alias. Then some guy dressed as a rhino showed up on the streets, attacking, and something inside him just snapped. He realised he needed to be out helping people. That was when I approached him with the job offer for the team."

"I'm glad he's taking it, then," Percy sipped his cola and made a face. It was flat. "I'm gonna be twenty-one in a few months. Can't I just have a sip of something illegal?"

Tony smirked, shook his head and walked away, leaving Percy standing by the bar. He sighed, turning around and asking the bartender for another cola. He felt juvenile; like one of those little kids at a party drinking fizzy drinks and pretending they were shit faced. Annoying little bastards. Still, what he wouldn't give to be with his younger cousins at camp again.

He took another sip of his cola, just before his wrists went limp and he fell to the ground.

*

"Now is the time to strike him," a raspy voice choked out. A scream echoed through the abyss.

Percy curled up into a ball, shaking his head. As frequent as these hallucinations of Tartarus were becoming, he still wasn't used to being thrust into the place that caused him so much damage. It'll be over soon, he told himself. Just wait it out.

"He is fragile," the raspy voice went out. "As he and the sacrifice grow weaker, our lord grows stronger."

"I know," another much louder, rumbling voice agreed. So rumbling that it made Percy's stomach sink. "I've spoken to him. The sacrifice is almost entirely gone; then, when we gain enough power, Zeus and his gods shall be no more."

At this, Percy's ears perked up. He'd had his suspicions about a potential plan to overthrow the Olympians, but with no evidence he couldn't act on it. He panicked, straining his ears to listen for any other words.

"I shall prepare the empousai-" the raspy voice began, but the other voice cut it off.

"No," it said, making Percy jump out of his skin. "He's defeated them countless times. Besides, the lord has demanded that he does the deed himself."

"What? But he's barely regained consciousness, he's not ready-"

"If he believes that he is ready, then he is. Now, away with you. In fourteen days, our next phase shall be in motion," the rumbling voice seethed. "You best prepare yourself and your kind."

"Yes, Lord Tartarus," the raspy voice obeyed, and the sound of footsteps scrambling away invades Percy's ears. He didn't pay attention to that, though; he paid attention to what had just been said.