One Problem: Percy Jackson/Marvel Crossover

6: Well, That Explains Nothing.

Peter's POV

That night was quiet. Eerily quiet.

Percy, Jason, Leo, and Nico were all asleep. Leo and Jason were snoring loudly, and Nico was muttering random things: "I won't solace, I won't." Percy rubbed a long scar at the back of neck that shone white in the dark room. I rolled over to face the wall. Against it was plastered various photos: Aunt May, Ned and I at the Science fair, and a couple of shots of MJ. 

I wondered what she - MJ - was doing now. Probably sleeping. Maybe homework? I didn't know how MJ's night went. My mind drifted to the other boys sleeping in the room.

Percy's scar - how'd he get that? I can walk up walls, and I don't even have a scar like that. Nico's too. The marks crawling up his arms - shiver. And their powers... Jason's seemed more sky-related, Leo's fire... Ned would probably know. I should ask him tomorrow. I wondered what was so "secretive" about them. Piper wasn't the type to keep secrets, was she? Annabeth though... I'm not sure I can trust her.

I sighed. Nico's muttering had stopped. 

A idea started to trickled into the back of my mind. Something with spheres of control... like the ones they had...

My eyelids drooped, and I fell into the dreamscape.

I don't usually have dreams. Generally, I dream, but when I do, it's random junk like - for example - I've been transformed into a Cheerio or something stupid. I sometimes flashback to some of my earlier fights when I didn't have a real suit and only really fought things like, say, a bike thief. You get it. I don't have serious dreams.

Tonight was the exception.

 I was standing on a beach, just in the surf. A pier leaned over the water behind me, and road ran alongside the sand dunes with homeless guys sleeping. For some reason, cops cars were parked along it. Curious people had gathered around. Before I could wonder why, I noticed the scene in front of me.

A large man stood with his back to me, dressed in leather. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell this guy wasn't someone to mess with. A boy about twelve in jeans and a tattered orange shirt stood in front of the man. He seemed familiar. In his right hand he held a bronze sword that also was familiar. He showed it to the man.

"That's cool, dead boy. Classic it is." The man said as I noticed he, too, was armed. He was holding a baseball bat - wait, no. It was a large sword like the boy's.

The man and the boy started to fight. The boy was good with his sword, and so was the man. I noticed to people standing behind the boy - a girl with blonde hair and a nervous boy, both twelve.

I watched the boy fight. He used practically used the sea - stepping into the surf, using it to push himself over the man. 

I realized the water wasn't lapping over my feet anymore. The water staying in one place, like it had been pushed back. A moment later, the boy yelled and the water splashed forward in one huge wave, disorienting the man. The boy feinted and cut the man's ankle. He howled in agony as the water resumed its normal course again, washing the blood from the man away. And the blood... the blood from the mans ankle wasn't red, like the usual stuff.

It was gold. 

I got distracted, looking at the golden blood. I didn't hear what the man said after, if he did say anything I missed anything that happened. When I regained my senses, the man was starting to glow. All my instincts screamed LOOK AWAY! So I did. The man exploded into a flash of light and disappeared. 

A classic Greco-Roman helmet washed up. Unfortunately, my dream was fading. All I saw was some bat-like things swooping down as my dream flickered black.