Heroes and Dragons - An Avengers/PJO crossover

IX pt II - More life story, and Dragon is betrayed. Again. Sucks to be her.

I only knew them a couple of years before Bucky was drafted and Steve volunteered. I knew I had to follow them, but at that time, females couldn’t serve in the Armed Forces, and anyway I had no intention of ever ending a life again. I used the transportation glyph twice, the first time ending up in China, but the second time I was barely a hundred kilometres from where I wanted to be. I was getting better.

I met up with Steve next when he was standing in the wreckage of an unidentifiable something, holding a car door. He was angry I used the Transportation glyph again, and that was when I suggested a safer alternative. I placed on him a glyph, one of very few that was safe to use on others. I placed a slight variation on myself.

If he was injured, in danger, or summoned me with his mind, I would come to him, without the need for the loss of energy that Transportation induced. I called it Summoning.

It wasn’t long before he summoned me. He needed help to save Bucky from a HYDRA stronghold – the very one where I had been imprisoned. I used an invisibility glamour glyph to hide myself and guide him to his friend and the other prisoners. I replaced the Summoning glyph, burnt out after only one use, like I thought, and left again.

I ended up in Italy, where I met a dark-haired boy named Nico di Angelo, who for some reason I trusted immensely, despite the eight year age gap – he was eight, I was sixteen – and I told him my story. I was distraught when he disappeared, presumed dead, barely six months after I met him.

I had barely a few days to dwell on his death, because Steve summoned me again. Bucky also was dead, and Steve was struggling to cope.

I bitterly regretted Bucky’s death, regretted leaving my brother. Had I been there, I could have saved him. I had recently been given a glyph for flight, and I was certain I could have at least slowed his fall, or even followed him down. But there was no time for self-pity or grief – my brother needed me to be strong for him.

Steve promised me one more mission, before we returned home to rebuild our lives. As you know, that mission went tragically wrong. I had failed to renew the summoning glyph, and was helpless to save my brother. I had failed everyone I knew.

It was then I began to dedicate myself fully to Radical Pacifism. I didn’t allow myself any more close friendships for a long time, lest I fail them again. I healed soldiers of both sides in Korea and Vietnam. Who was I to choose a side between two evils, killing for an ideal?

It was in the 1980s I finally discovered my heritage. I met a child who told me who I was. She gave me the Olympic Silver dagger I still use today.

I remember 9/11. I used the Transportation glyph to move people past blockages on the stairs, but there were so many hundreds I couldn’t save. I felt powerless, again.

Recently, when the Chitauri attacked and I realised my brother was alive; I knew I couldn’t let him know I lived. I was still immortal, and I couldn’t put him through growing old and watching me stay young. I healed and protected mortals.

More recently still, I tried to kill myself. Loki saved my life, and for the first time in more years than I wish I could remember, I had a friend. We both had killed, though not through choice, we both had suffered more at our own hands than anyone could punish us for. And both of us were the forgotten adopted siblings of a hero.

“That’s it. My story, up to date… Or at least, you know the rest.” Dragon looked at them. “Is there anything else you want to know?”

Thor stood. “I think perhaps it is time for some light entertainment. No questions for now.”