Percy Jackson Adoptive Son of Tony Stark

Chapter 20: Poparazzi Gone Wild

I don't know how, I don't know when. But someone in the universe obviously hates me because suddenly the tabloids are bursting with life and guess what the topic is.

Three words. Percy Freaking Jackson. It's Tony Stark Son This or That or just theories that I don't even want to talk about.

Dad had me stay at the Avengers Tower instead of Malibu (I took a train that time instead of a plane) and I had to wear a freaking hat everywhere along with sunglasses.

I looked like a douche when I wore them inside. Overall, I really wanted to kill whoever made the first copy or how word got out.

The tabloids also found out I was adopted, it was better but what they were saying about my parents really hurt me.

Well my birth-dad, I didn't know him that much but they were saying bad stuff from my mom. Dad had to actually hide those magazines otherwise I would probably strangle whoever wrote them.

That didn't stop news that were on the TV or having JARVIS inform me. Still though, each time they mentioned some theory it always hurt when it was way off or they were dissing my dad, my birth dad, or my mom and it really hurt.

The Avengers never mention it but I knew they were watching me when I came into the room, hid certain magazine or articles, it sometimes made me angry and want to snap at them.

But, I know they're just looking out for me.

Doesn't mean I don't want to just glare at them and tell them to piss off. Well, mostly piss off. I will allow dad, Steve, or Bruce keep me company from time to time but otherwise, bugger off.

There are also times when I was 'allowed' to watch Pepper try and handle the press while Happy was being her bodyguard. The keyword being try in that sentence.

SHIELD was also doing something that I didn't feel like knowing about, I was just exhausted and a tad homesick.

All I really wanted to do was just curl in my bed at Malibu and pretend nothing has ever happened. Oh how will I ever go back to school.

Most of the time in the tower I spent in my room, staring at the ceiling ignoring the sometimes sound of helicopter blades from paparazzi trying to get some sort of picture of me.

Course, Tony sued them afterward but still, I held up in my room for three days and I was about done with it.

So, on the fourth day I stormed out of my room, into the kitchen, "That's it. I am stuck of being in this stupid tower. Make a press conference or something so the paparazzi will just shut up." I demanded before turning around and almost stomping away.

There was a small set of silence behind me before I heard some movement, I heard them follow me as I slowly calmed down and flopped on my bed (which I had disappeared back into).

I heard a knock at my open door, I looked up and saw that dad was standing at the door looking slightly amused.

"Wanna tell me what that was about?" He asked closing the door on his way in.

"I'm just sick of not being able to go back home." I muttered moving to (in a way) cuddle with Dad desperately wanting some sort of protection (which I would later deny).

"Uh huh, and snapping at us will help?" Dad teased as he started to rub my back (A known calming effect he found).

"It made me feel better." I muttered while closing my eyes and resting my head on his chest listening to the small buzz from the Arch Reactor.

We just sat like that for a few minutes before Dad started talking again, "Are you sure you want to bud?"

"If I don't they won't stop making fun of mom or you." I mumbled clenching his shirt a little which was wrapped in my hands.

I heard Dad sigh and after a moment of hesitation started speaking, "I'll arrange something with Pepper. They might ask some personal questions and if you don't want to answer, it's alright if you don't. Happy and I will be by your side the entire time."

"Thanks." I mumbled and we just sat there for a few minutes basking in each other.

"Come on, it's breakfast and I just know Steve made blue pancakes." Dad said a small laugh in his tone of voice

I looked up a little panicked, "I didn't give him the hurt face right?" I asked horrified, the last time I seen it I felt so, so guilty.

Dad just laughed and stood up still holding me, I wrinkled my nose at being picked up but relented not feeling like walking anyway.

We started our way back to the kitchen as Dad was making jokes and getting me to smile, I was laughing when we entered the kitchen and shyly had dad let me down.

"Sorry." I said to them shifting from foot to foot. Natasha just smirked and Clint handed her what seemed to be a five-dollar bill. Bruce just gave me a soft smile and Steve didn't look like a kicked puppy (which was a good sign he forgave me).

"We made pancakes." Steve said from where he was and lifted the pan that held the said pancakes.

"I think you mean, you made the pancakes." Clint pointed out while sharpening one of his arrows.

"Clint." Steve warned when he saw that Clint had his arrows at the table. It was a known rule (Or apparently it's suppose to be known) to not bring any sort of weapons at the table when I was in the room.

Clint rolled his eyes and put them gently in with the other arrows before turning to look at the ever growing stack of pancakes.

"Dips of three." I said and jumped into the seat next to Clint and took said pancakes.

Grabbing the syrup after adding some butter, I instantly held the bottle upside down and watched it flow onto the pancakes.

"Uh, Percy." Steve said but I still focused on the syrup pouring task.

"Yes?" I asked still watching the syrup.

"You're drowning your pancakes." Steve pointed out. Totally ignoring him I just made the comment, "I can't drown and neither can my pancakes."

Suddenly the syrup was taken from my hands, "Hey!" I said angrily as Dad took the bottle and started to add the sugary substance to his pancakes.

He just gave me a pointed look and I huffed but relented anyway, maybe it was bit much....nah, too little if you ask me.

I was about to reach the syrup from where dad had set it before more hands stole it. I glared at the offender and saw Steve give me a strict look.

Slumping in my seat, I allowed Natasha (who was sitting by me at the time) to smirk and take the syrup from Steve and mockingly started to pour it on her pancakes and then promptly put it on the other side of the table from me.

"You're all mean." I said glaring at the bottle and the sighed and started to eat my soggy pancakes that needed more syrup.