The New Avenger

Memories

Percy's POV:

Back on the streets of Queens I try not to think. I try to push everything out of my mind. I try to look like everyone else, like I'm not carrying two deadly weapons in my pocket, like I'm not here to save a life. I try not to remember anything. I try not to think of everything that has happened in this city, mortal and immortal. And I try not to wonder. I try to think of any words except "what if". Of course it's like telling myself not to push the big red button. ADHD anyone?

Each corner holds a memory that I don't really want to remember. People slip by me, almost not real. But I'm not sure who isn't real, them or me. The air smells different here, some people might say it smells like the city but it doesn't. It smells like Queens. It smells like old thoughts, smoke rising, cars beeping, people shouting. It smells like open windows and closed doors, like yesterday and the day before that and the day before that, it smells like the days when smelly Gabe was the worst of my problems. So even if it doesn't smell good it certainly smells like home. I'm not sure that's a good thing.

Walking these streets, it's going back to my childhood home, enveloping me like a warm hug. But also not. Because childhood isn't perfect and remembering isn't always good. Here there are to many memories, to many ghosts. To much lost, to much that could have been gained. So many what if's and if only's. Maybe if this maybe if that. Well maybe if this then Kronos would have taken over the world. And maybe if that Luke would still be alive. Maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe. Five little letters with to much to say. Hey, it's a rhyming day!

Just forward, left right, left right, left right. One foot in front of the next, let whatever happens to be inside me guide. Just keep swimming just keep swimming. Although swimming is easier. When you're swimming you can always breathe. There is always enough air even when your lungs aren't working. In the water even I can find peace some days.

I'm on 10th street now, nearly there, nearly to the building. My excuse for being there is, believe it or not, that I was planning on breaking into the warehouse and robbing it. Because that's reasonable. I'm armed with a pocket knife/ sword that I've never used before, going into a building where we know a bad guy is or will be. We do not know what kind of weapons Remix will have, we do not know what she wants with Steve, and we do not know what she'll do if she feels like her plan is threatened in any way. This could pretty easily be called a suicide mission. And for some sick reason that doesn't bother me. For some sick reason I don't want to call my mom or Annabeth or Chiron or anyone. I want to be a hero. Over and over I've been branded one, Percy Jackson, Hero of Olympus. That's how they think of me and that's how I want them to remember me. Not what I am not, not what I've become. No, I want them to remember that 15 year old kid who lead an army that was hopelessly outnumbered into battle where he was prophesied to die and somehow the army was victorious. I want them to remember me as the boy who returned the legions eagle and their pride. I want to be remembered as the hero who fought giants along side the gods. I want to be remembered as a caring son, a loving boyfriend, a loyal friend. I want to be remembered as all the things I can no longer be.

The door is not locked, nor is it hard to find. Remix wants Rogers here. She wants to get her revenge. Now though, maybe she can get it on me. Maybe this time I can actually be a hero. This time I can save the day for real, without anyone else dying. If I have to die so no one else does so be it. It would be better that way, for everyone.

I try and focus on the building, the industrial cooking supplies. The building obviously hasn't been in use for a while, although I guess that's sort of a given when it come to abandoned warehouses. My footsteps echo in the most cliche way possible and I almost yell hello just to complete the picture of clicheness. However, that would be dumb so I restrain myself.

Instead I glide through room after room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Seeing as I am actually looking for something it's harder to keep up my "I'm robbing an abandoned warehouse" story. Multitasking is not my strong suit.

Even though I'm looking for it a shiver still makes it's way down my spine when I see what must be Peters aunt. She isn't tied up, or trapped in an elaborate cage. She isn't chained to a wall, or hanging from the ceiling. No. She's just laying on the ground, not a scratch on her and yet not moving at all.

Before I even register it I spin around, because this is a trap. I just can't figure out how. Behind me there is no one, no one anywhere. No one on the ceiling or behind the door or behind the industrial vents. I have to go forward, I have to see if she's alive. Even if Remix kills me in the next few steps when I don't make the rendezvous they'll know something is wrong, they'll proceed with caution. Maybe they'll learn from whatever I do wrong.

So I step forward. I don't tense, I don't brace myself. I just walk and wait. Wait to be impaled or poisoned or dismembered or swept up in a hidden net. Now I'm waiting for it to be over, all of it.

But it isn't over by the time I reach Ms. Parker, not yet. So I bend down, I check for a pulse, I wait to die. But although I find a pulse on Ms. Parker my own continues. None of this was in the plan, none of this was foreseen. I should leave now, run out of here like I'm scared to death. Remix has to be here, this has to be a trap.

Then I remember Peter, I remember promising him to bring his aunt home. He didn't believe me, he wanted to but he couldn't. In his shoes I couldn't have either. Now I need to give him a reason to trust me, to know my words to have been true.

I don't follow my gut. I don't do what I should do. I don't do the reasonable thing. Instead I reach down to list Ms. Parker, to get her out of this place.

And then  overwhelming pain and the noise and everything crashing and screaming and then nothing. Nothing at all.

(Radi/N)
I AM DA MUFFIN KEEPER
How do you guys like the title? (I got the pleasure of naming this chapter :3)
Again sorry about unanswered comments and dms since Bex can only pop on occasionally
Lastly your welcome for the 12 hour early update cause timezones