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

Chapter 29: Percy

After that first dose of super serum (he was told the name later when he was back in his right mind), he had felt stronger than ever before. His muscles felt 10 times bigger (even though they probably weren't) and steadier, his chest felt more full, he felt more agile on his feet. His eyesight and hearing even seemed a little sharper.

But it had hurt so much. 

For that small reason—despite all the benefits he reaped from the serum—Riptide utterly refused to himself to ever go through that again. He didn't want it. He didn't feel the pull of the prospect of power and strength. For some reason, Riptide didn't think he was really that type of guy. He didn't lust after the command over hundreds of people. He didn't thirst for control over anyone but himself. He was okay with just being... just being... what? He didn't really know.

The answer had felt so close. So close. Who was he? 

Whenever there was an extended break between his orders, Riptide felt he was able to... breathe. He could think a little. Not a lot by any means, but it was still something. The feeling of peace and quiet was something Riptide had grown to cherish in the past two weeks. With all of the constant yet hushed shuffle of those at HYDRA, staring at him like he was an abomination, or giving him an amused smile, or a command that drowned out everything around him, it gave him relief when he could just sit. Something told him that peace was something he sorely missed in his old life—if he even had one. He still wasn't completely sure of his origins. 

Riptide rarely spoke, if ever. He could feel his throat starting to get dry and scratchy from the lack of use, but he still didn't talk. If he spoke at all in a day, it was a curt "Yes, sir" or "Ready to comply".

When he first woke up at HYDRA, Riptide had felt fine. Confident, even. He knew his place in the world. But now, Riptide lived in fear. He was scared that he would have to go through that nasty procedure again. It may have left his body strong, but it left his willpower and mind weak.

Unfortunately for the teen, HYDRA didn't particularly care about his hurt feelings. Riptide started to notice how they really didn't care about him at all—as long as he got the job done. It didn't  matter how banged up he got in a spar against a professional. At the end of the day, he still beat his opponent—even if he nearly collapsed afterwards. It didn't matter that the boy never spoke, or that he showed little to no emotion. In fact, he was sure that was what HYDRA wanted. Still, he couldn't bring himself to speak up. What would he even say? He had no life. He was a blank slate. He did HYDRA's bidding, and that was all he did. 

That fear of having to go back into the machine haunted his every move. He suddenly became far more tense and un-relaxed than before, if that was even possible. A spike of anxiety prickled at his back every time he walked past that room where they had taken him. A rush of panic followed him when he used his new strength a little too much.

I don't want this, he thought. I never wanted power.

Some baseline instinct told him this. He didn't know why, he didn't know how, but he knew, in the bottom of his heart, that he really didn't want anything more than an average person. In fact, something told him that he just wanted to be an average person. But no matter how much Riptide hated it, he just couldn't bring himself to voice these concerns. He just... couldn't. It was like an external force was stopping him from ever saying his worries. It made his throat constrict and close up like an allergic reaction. He didn't like the feeling.

Apparently, though, things never went his way. Because despite his clear aversion to the concept of being forced back into the contraption, Riptide was still powerless to avoid his second interaction with it.