Aquaman? Whoops, Wrong Universe: A Percy Jackson Marvel Crossover

Chapter 3: Percy

My world drifted in and out of sight. My head felt like it weighed a million pounds, stuffed with fuzz that made it hard to think. I caught snippets of conversation around me.

"Huge dog..." 

"...you okay?" 

"...trust me!"

I winced, and tried to turn my head, but that just made my head hurt more. I tried to take in my environment. I seemed to be in some sort of open room, with sterile white walls and floors that made my eyes burn. My head rested on something hard, cold, and uncomfortable.

Squinting through the pain, I thought I saw a man in a red and blue suit hugging another, older man. Both of them looked oddly familiar, but I couldn't place why. Then the older man turned around, and I recognized his face almost instantly. Tony Stark. Iron Man. 

Part of me was excited that I got to meet an actual superhero. Another part of me was unimpressed. 

"What...?" I managed to get out.

The boy in the weird red and blue suit swiveled towards me, eyes wide. My sluggish brain took a second to process who was standing in front of me.

Peter? Peter Parker? In Spider-Man's suit?

Peter looked down at the mask in his hands, and I thought his eyes would burst out of his skull. He tried to turn around and replace the mask on his face, but it was too late. I had already seen what I needed to see.

"Percy, it's not what it looks like!" Peter said, putting a hand in front of his face, trying to block him from my view. 

"Uh... I'm pretty sure it is."

"You... you aren't surprised?" Peter asked uneasily, lowering his hand.

"Dude, this explains so much. You disappear, like, constantly. And you're always on edge."

"Oh."

Then it all came back to me. Peter, the hellhound, my revelation... everything.

Crap. Peter knows that it was a hellhound. Not a truck, or a poodle, or anything else the Mist could trick mortals into seeing.

"Hey!" I said angrily. "You knocked me out!"

I superstitiously checked my pocket for Riptide, and sighed with relief when I felt the reassuring surface of the ballpoint pen. Both Peter and Tony were grasping for words while I tried to stand up from the cold table they had placed me on. I swung my legs over the edge, and stumbled forward, gripping onto a beam for support.

"I'm leaving," I said icily. I couldn't believe that Peter had been... spying on me? For how long? 

I had been betrayed by enough people in my life. I really wasn't in the mood to have one heart shattering moment after another. Why couldn't the Fates just be kind to me, for once?

"Sit back down," Stark demanded.

I turned my head and rolled my eyes. "Not happening."

I took one step forward, and almost fell flat on my face. Lightheadedness drowned my thoughts, but I faintly felt an arm grab and steady me. It led me in a direction, and I had no choice but to move with it. Everything was spinning out of control around me, and my senses were dulled. Finally, when the world started to settle down and go back to normal, I realized I was sitting in a metal chair with two armrests.

I tried to lift my right hand to rub my face, wishing the headache would go away, but I was greeted with the sound of metal clinking. I stared down, and found that I had been handcuffed to the stupid chair. I kicked out, but only one foot made contact with someone's knee. I realized it was Peter's, and a flash of satisfaction rushed through my brain. Serves him right. I felt a little sorry, but hey. He started it.