Agent Barton: Son Of Apollo

My father is possibly Greek.. but we can't be sure, of course

As we were wandering the corridors of the ship/ aircraft thing, we unfortunately came across one of Fury's minions, who marched us back to our 'cell'.

"He doesn't trust us." Nico said, failling back onto the bed.

"I wonder why.." I muttered sarcastically. "But don't even suggest any underworldy stuff to get us out of here." I added, as Nico opened his mouth. He shut it again. "Plus, I guess that you don't really want to leave." I added, grinning. "What with Captain America being on this ship and all."

"Shut up." Nico muttered.

"Nope!" I teased.

"I'll make you." Nico growled.

"Like to see you try, Sunshine."

Nico sighed, looking annoyed at my nickname for him.
"I'm not a fan of Captain America, and I never had a crush on him." He insisted.

"Ooh so you had a crush on him!" I joked.

"I hate you." Nico muttered, rolling over so that he wasn't looking at me.

"No you don't." I said, sitting next to him.

"Whatever." Nico said.

We remained in our 'cell' for a few days, before being pulled out for questioning again.

"So, your name is..?" the lady drummed her fingers on the desk between us.

"You know this already." I said, glancing into the next room where I could see Nico looking smaller than ever, under the scrutinising gaze of the man interrogating him. Nico obviously wasn't responding, and the man was growing angrier by the second. I wanted to swoop in and just hold Nico because he obviously wasn't doing well.
I looked back at the lady. She was looking exasperated behind her bleached hair. "Fine. Once again, I'm Will- William- Solace."

"So, William, how are you related to Barton?" She tapped the desk with her black pen, and I couldn't help but notice how her red nails matched her lipstick, a stark difference to her dark uniform, and the white of the room. She was making notes, making me feel like I was in a therapist's office.

I hope Chiron has managed to sort out records and shit since the emergency iris message we sent before surrendering.

"He's my half brother - we have the same Dad."

"Well, that's quite an age difference." the lady observed. "So, why do you not share the same last name?"

At least I could answer this without bullshitting, mostly. "I have my mother's last name. As does Clint. Our father is Lester Papadopolous."

"And is that a Greek name?"

I tried not to laugh. "I guess it is."