Nico di Angelo and the Avengers

Chapter Six: For Once, We Don't Have to Analyze Bad Poetry!

Another harpy stepped forward, hesitant and gulping. Its eyes flickered up nervously. "M'Lord, the boy was with the Son of Hades."

"SO?!"

"We believe the boy to be close to him," the harpy said, "Important."

"Just because they were near each other doesn't mean he is of import to him," growled the man. "At best it means they know each other, or, more likely, it was just a coincidence."

"True," conceded the harpy, "Except he is covered in the Son of Hades' scent, and... when we took him, the boy seemed quite upset."

"Oh, really?" The man was grinning now. It was not pleasant to look at the way most smiles are; rather, it was mean and deeply unsettling, telling of troubles to come. "Then I guess I won't kill you this time. But, you..." he turned now towards Will. "What to do with you?"

"I don't know," said Will, sarcastic. There were claw marks on his arms, and his shirt was torn badly, but he didn't seem too injured otherwise. The wounds on his hands must have heeled, or at least stopped bleeding. "Maybe leave me the hell alone?" Nico felt immensely proud.

That's my boyfriend, he thought.

The man backhanded Will, and Nico nearly threw himself forward to-- to what? This was a dream. There wasn't much he could do.

Hey, he tensed in anger, that's my boyfriend! He thought about moving forward, about-- what? Waving a non-corporeal hand in his face? Potentially revealing himself? No. As much as he hated it, he had to stay put.

"SILENCE, SON OF APOLLO!" the man bellowed.

Will stretched his jaw out, a bright red mark already forming on his face. He glared at the man. "Who the Hell even are you?"

"I AM MENOETIUS, SON OF IAPETUS AND CLYMENE, TITAN OF ANGER AND RASHNESS!"

Yeah, thought Nico, no shit. Dumbass.

"My lord," a dracaena said, almost indignantly. "I am not sssure it isss wissse to--"

With an easy swing of his axe, Menoetius turned her to dust. "ANYONE ELSE WANT TO QUESTION ME?" All monsters within a good twenty feet of him backed away, shaking their heads fervently, their eyes wide with fear. "Good," the Titan grinned, "Now..." he chuckled, "Oh, Son of Apollo, I think I know exactly what to do with you."

The hairs began to prickle on the back of Nico's neck as a deep sense of foreboding filled him. He focused harder than he had ever focused on a dream before, and the feeling only amplified.

"Soldier!" called Menoetius. "Why don't you come out and greet our new guest."

A man walked out of the shadows, deep brown hair barely ghosting his shoulders. He wore all black, save a Celestial Bronze chest plate and a matching greave on his right arm (weird fashion choice, thought Nico, but okay). He was well decorated with weapons of the same material, each of them strapped to him in easily accessible locations-- that said, the man must be seriously weighed down by all those daggers and guns and knives and swords. Most peculiar about this man, though, was his left arm-- from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers, it was not made of flesh and blood, but rather a glinting, worn-looking silver metal, a red star emblazoned on the bicep.

Despite all of this, though Nico knew him. It would be impossible for Nico not to recognize him, really-- after all, it was--

"Bucky?" Nico said, eyes wide, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Wh-- how--"

"Silence, young demigod," said a kind voice behind him. Nico whirled around-- he hadn't noticed a presence behind him, but then again, he was pretty focused on Will.