PERSEUS MEANS DESTROYER

To My Enemies

**Sorry for disappearing for like five months

I got writer's block and also I'm still undecided which way this story is going to go. But I finally got around to writing the scene that inspired this whole fic.

PLEASE be careful with this chapter and the next at the very least; trigger warning for death threats, attempted murder and strangulation**

You can run but you know that you can't hide,

You can run but you cannot hide.

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Percy opened the door and Steve caught the tail end of a pissed "what?"

The lights in his room were turned down low, and the dark background made Percy's eye seem too bright.

"We were just..." the kid's hand was clenched tight enough around the pen in the hand not on the door that his knuckles were white, and he looked like he was unbalanced as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "You didn't come down for breakfast. And you don't normally sleep in. To be honest, Tony couldn't care less if he tried, but I just wanted to—? Look, are you alright?"

Percy blinked at him and shut the door in his face. Steve jerked back just in time to not get his nose broken.

Something in the room thumped and then cracked, and Steve heard what might have been Percy coughing or choking on a laugh, followed by a short series of muffled whisper-shouted sentences.

Percy opened the door again.

"'Alright'..." he muttered. "Furthest thing from it, probably," he glanced up at Steve with a wince. "Fucking 'alright'— no, Steve, I'm not. If I'm not down by dinner feel free to kick me out the window or something. Kick me- kick down the door, I mean. Or don't, I really don't care. Bye."

The door slammed shut on Steve's toes again. He heard another smothered laugh-cough followed by a yelled "that means fuck off, I'll come out when I feel like it!" and another crash.

Okay.

Okay, that's fine.

"I'm going to make you a sandwich... I'll leave it out here if you want it."

He jumped a little when something smacked against the door and shattered against the floor.

"I hope Stark didn't like that lamp," Percy mumbled to himself when he heard Steve's footsteps leading away from his door.

The bedside lamp lay on the ground in front of the bedroom door in pieces.

In slightly better shape, the window only had a web-looking crack radiating from where Riptide had hit it, and the pillow slumped against the ensuite door.

He let out a heartfelt 'fuck' and buried his face in his hands, sliding to the floor against the end of his bed.

This was getting ridiculous. Since when did he hide from his problems? Tony and Natasha probably already knew (read: should already know) that stalking his family was... morally questionable at best. Hey, maybe if he brought it up, they'd leave his mum the fuck alone. Or maybe not.

Idiots. They were all morons. Every single person on this dam floor.

Perseus came out to the kitchen with an empty plate and a bracelet clutched in his hands six hours after Steve had taken it up to him. No crutch. Weirdly enough. And, quite the odd phenomenon, every single one of the present Avengers were sitting around the island with drinks in-hand.