The Fallen Hero (Percy Jackson x Avengers Crossover)

41: When the Question is Rhetorical

Percy flew through the air and smashed into the opposite wall with a sickening thud. He fell to the floor hard, groaning, and struggled shakily to his feet. His vision blurred and he gingerly touched the back of his head where it had slammed into the wall, half expecting his fingers to come away bloody.

They didn't, but he had a decent-sized goose egg on the back of his head.

He dug in his pocket and whipped out Riptide, popping off the pen's cap just in time to stop a kitchen knife from slicing his head open. He couldn't see where it had come from, some dark corner of the room...it was almost like it just appeared out of thin air. 

But that wasn't possible...was it?

Unless...

He hadn't been hit by a wall of air. He had been slammed into by a person moving impossibly fast. Someone who had been waiting for him.

Percy clutched Riptide's hilt tightly in both hands, holding it out in front of him. The faint glow of the celestial bronze blade was the only source of light in the room now. Percy backed up to the wall--better to have your enemies in front of you if they're invisible. 

His head throbbed painfully with every beat of his heart, making him nauseous. His eyes flitted nervously around the room, waiting for another attack. 

Two more knives came flying at him. His arms jerked up on impulse, Riptide deflecting one, but the other was too far away...Percy tried to dodge, but he was too slow. The knife grazed his shoulder, slicing a tendon, and for a second his left arm went limp. His grip on Riptide loosened and he fell to one knee with a cry.

His sword was wrenched out of his hand and someone slammed him hard into the wall. Percy felt a hand close around his throat, and something pointy pressed tight against his ribcage. 

This is it, Percy thought. This is the end. After all that...and I'm going to die trying to steal Marvin Gray Dillard's ID off of my own kitchen countertop. Pathetic.

He gagged as the invisible hand at his throat cut off his airway.

"Who are you?" an angry, feminine voice growled in his ear, "and what the Hades are you doing in my house?"

Percy's chest heaved and he managed to make a little gasping sound. The hand on his throat loosened a bit and he coughed violently as air whooshed back into his lungs. "My...house," he gasped, wincing at the scratchiness in his throat. He could feel warm blood trickling down his left arm. 

He rolled his eyes and blinked hard, trying desperately to stay awake, but his vision was starting to double. He coughed again, spitting out a bit of blood. He must have bitten his lip when he slammed into the wall. 

"Had to...grab ID for...hotel," Percy wheezed. 

The knife at his ribcage pressed harder, drawing blood. "Who are you?"

That voice...Percy knew that voice. He knew...

On a sudden impulse--he blamed the ADHD--he struck out with his fist right where the voice was coming from, except he didn't aim for the head of his attacker. He aimed just above, his fist colliding with a baseball cap. 

A blue Yankees cap.

Percy scrambled back, his fingers tangled in the blond curls of the beautiful and ferocious girl standing before him. She looked shocked, and angry, and...she looked like she was feeling every emotion that Percy should be feeling. 

Instead he felt a strange sense of eerie foreboding. Like he had known who was under the cap. Like he had been expecting this encounter to happen for a long, long time. And he had been dreading it.