The Reluctant Hero

Soft blue sheets. Harsh red dreams.

Soft blue with emerald green and sparkling purple fish dancing across their surface, reminiscent of the friendly schools that swam through Atlantis.

Percy ran his fingers over the soft sheets, tracing the embroidered patterns as the team sat around him.

"It'll be fine Percy." Reassured the billionaire, "You're a kick-ass Olympian who's been getting used to his new powers for a month now, this Morteous dude is nothing."
"Morpheus, and I know it's just..." Clint rested a hand on the young man's shoulder, the progress they'd made since Percy opened up to them and to himself was astounding. Though he was still cold and wary, almost paranoid (definitely paranoid) with anyone he didn't know, he trusted them explicitly now. The fact that they could touch him was already a huge leap forward from how they were before. His scars had stayed and he wasn't as jumpy around them, he talked more and, despite still being tortured in his sleep, he seemed happier, he still grieved and was no where near what he was before it all, and he never would be, but he was healing. At least slightly.

So they'd decided to confront Morpheus, Percy had been gaining more control over his powers every day and the team was starting to understand what Thor (who still hadn't gotten back from Asgard) was talking about when he raved about just how powerful the Greeks were, especially the Olympians. It scared them sometimes: it had been movie night, and the Avengers had woken to screaming wind and trembling earth as Percy fought through an especially hard nightmare. Percy had been bed bound for two days until his legs healed, they'd been almost torn off his body,  literally hanging by a tendon, Stark had thrown up on his floor and Bruce had gone just as green for an entirely different reason. Percy hadn't screamed. But he had cried as they wiped his floor, cleaned his bed and set his legs so that they healed in the right position. Percy hadn't slept for a week, it would've been longer if Morpheus hadn't stepped in. The assassins' faces had been grim as they worked and every one of them had agreed that this needed to come to a stop once and for all.

Here they were, preparing for Percy to go to sleep and finally confront the traitorous God, he'd been meditating with Bruce for days, trying to master Occlumency and Legilimency and now they were ready.

"You ready Percy?" Clint had to make sure.

"No."  Everyone stopped.

"Umm.."
"Yeah I know Stark, shut up...I just..." Natasha stepped forward.

"It's OK Percy, it's terrifying, even if you know you're going to be fine this sort of thing is always scary. It's alright Percy."
"It's just," He laughed bitterly, "Perseus Jackson, God of Courage and Bravery, scared of the God of Dreams." He ran his worn hands over his face.

"Percy." Pepper. She'd come home earlier the week and she and Percy had somehow bonded straight away.  They'd been protective of each other from the first moment, she treated him like a nephew and he treated  her like he was her bodyguard and friend. It was good for both of them. And only she could calm him down when Stark pushed him over the edge (which happened quite often). They'd spent many nights sitting reading, watching sad movies and just talking. It was good. And she absolutely adored his cooking, plus he had more business sense than all the Avengers combined, she finally had some else to talk to about Stark industries (ironic considering she was living in the same building as Stark himself). They just hit it off from the first meeting and now they were close enough that she could approach him, even in a flashback, though not a severe one and nightmares were still untouchable, even normal ones, which were rare these days with Morpheus rampaging. He was comfortable with these people and they were helping him.

"You can do it Percy, we'll be right here when you wake up. We will always be here." Percy smiled sadly, knowing that wasn't quite true but appreciating it anyway. "We've got you and you're going to be fine."