Wanted (A Percy Jackson/Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. crossover)

Motive

Hey guys!

Thanks again for reading and your patience. Good news, I have the rest of the story planned out: we have about 9-10 chapters till the end! Home stretch!

Also, just some housekeeping stuff, I moved the 'bonus' one shot chapters to an actual one shot book also on my profile- there's some more PJO stuff as well as Marvel if you are so inclined to check those out!

IN ADDITION, also edited/played with the ending scene in the chapter "Tartarus" a little bit more to be a little more angsty. Not necessary to read but just to let you know!

And as always, thank you so much for reading, voting, and/or commenting. You're the only reason this story is still alive and kicking (albeit weakly at points, haha), and I owe the world to ya'll. THANK YOU.

Enjoy this next chapter!

Percy's ears rang as he slowly came to.

His head felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton balls as he tried to open his eyes, his fingers numb when he tried to move them. His eyelids glowed red from whatever bright light was shining harshly down at him.

"He's awake!" a voice shouted from a distance. Or so he had thought. When he managed to blink, albeit slowly, he was met with the wide eyes of a man hidden behind a white face mask. His thoughts were slow, but he briefly wondered if this was what an alien abduction might feel like.

There was cursing, a few "how? Why's?" One angry "Damm it, John!" and the shuffling of feet. Metal clanging sharply.

"Get him back under!" another demanded. 

Hands grabbed him, making his skin crawl. He felt a pinch in his side, or was it his wrist? and before he could complain, his eyelids were closing. 

It was easy to fall back asleep.

The darkness welcomed him.

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The two had found a small cave to rest in, not far from the cursed water source they had drank from.

Annabeth had been worried they'd be sitting ducks inside. Upon one look at Percy's exhausted face, however, she found herself uncaring. He wouldn't be able to fight a canary in the state he was in, much less a monster of any form. An hour or two of sleep was their best chance for survival. 

Neither spoke as they climbed inside the small opening, pushing a few rocks in front of the narrow window once they were as comfortable as they could be inside. They hoped it would ward off any interested homicidal monsters. If not- well, they were dead as it was anyway.

They hadn't talked the entire hour they'd been walking. She wasn't sure if he was mad at her, or just tired, but with each passing minute her curiosity and worry grew. What did the water- or whatever it was- show him that had him so worn and closed off? His outright refusal to tell her hurt. The longer she tried to let that hurt fester, however, her immediate anger melted into concern.

If it was anything like hers, it attacked her oldest insecurities and fears. The ones she'd thought she'd overcome, the one's she didn't know she still had. Then it showed her things she hadn't even considered fearing.

She had seen herself with Luke, Grover and Thalia. Being helpless, useless, as she was killed.  She watched herself blindly follow Luke as they grew older together at camp, the promises he made her while she was young and naive that were destined to crumble. Maybe because she wasn't good enough. Not good enough for him. Not good enough for her dad, for her step-mom, for a quest. For friends- five years at camp and nearly no people to show for it.