Tower of Secrets

Peter Parker

I was not ready for this. I was not ready for this!

Okay, so Mr. Stark cleared up things with my Aunt May so that I could live at the tower and visit on weekends. I don't know what he told her, but it sure worked. Part of that might have been the fact that Happy had to deliver the news.

The next thing I know, I'm moved in across the hall from the kid who blew up my school bus when I was in the fourth grade! For the next few weeks, I was going to be living a lie about why I was staying at Stark Tower.

We were all in the conference room waiting because we heard that he had finally woke up from the sedatives we gave him. Although, I swear I heard muffled sobs coming from his room earlier. We had all also seen the footage of him punching the crap out of the punching bag while Director Fury was on his way to go get him.

It wouldn't have messed with my nerves if I hadn't heard the resident super soldier, Mr. Rogers, let out a low impressed whistle. It didn't help when the two assassins, Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barton, nodded their heads in agreement. Just by the way he carried himself, I knew one thing for certain: he wasn't the same kid I used to play kickball with.

When the duo walked in the room, Percy raised an eyebrow and the number of people in the room. His eyes landed on me and lingered for a moment. He nodded in remembrance and I flashed him a smile and a nod of my own. Percy had changed a lot since we were kids. He was taller than me now, which I knew after reading his file. He hair was a touch longer like he hadn't had a proper hair cut in months. He looked stronger, too. I noticed, to my surprise, a scar on his jaw and one that led down into his shirt. I vaguely remembered wondering what happened. His eyes were probably the biggest change. They looked broken, empty almost.

He wore an orange t-shirt and a grey jacket and dark pants and blue running shoes. I noticed he wasn't drenched in sweat anymore, like he was in the security footage I had seen.

"Perseus-" Director Fury began.

Percy cut him off. "Percy. I told you, I go by Percy."

The director of SHIELD looked a little miffed, but continued to plow on. "Percy," he amended, "I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected to train as a government operative."

"How about no?" Percy asked, pursing his lips. I noticed he was fiddling with a pen in his right hand.

"There isn't an option. This is your life as of now," Director Fury growled, sending a glare at the teenager. Percy glared back. And, despite it not even being aimed at me, I was terrified. "Get used to it. You'll be living here until further notice. You may visit home on the weekends as long as one of your instructors comes with you."

"Instructors?" Percy questioned, still in a glaring contest with Fury. I noticed he seemed to sqeeze his pen so that his bruised knuckles turned from purple to white.

"That would be them," Fury growled as he jabbed a finger in our direction.

Percy scoffed, but didn't back down in the battle of expressions. "Peter Parker is younger than me!"

"Peter Parker," Fury thundered, "is a fellow student. You'll be able to go home and get your things this weekend. Stark, fill him in on the details in. Everyone, dismissed." With that, Fury broke the glare and left, leaving behind a smirking Percy Jackson for us to deal with.

"What's up? My name is Percy Jackson, although I'm sure you geniuses know that already," he grinned.

Mr. Stark looked mildly annoyed. "Look, kid, don't call an actual genius a genius if you're being sarcastic. You might get a toaster turned killer robot sent after you. My name is Tony Stark."

"Tony Stark," Percy mused. "I know that name from somewhere." He shook his head. "It'll come to me later, Tony." I was shocked. Was he really going to call Mr. Stark by his first name?

"Usually, students call teachers by their last names," Mr. Stark corrected.

"Then why'd you tell me your first?" he countered. I made eye contact with Wanda and we shared an anxious glance. Percy would be dead meat by the end of the week if he continued to make it a point to get on everyone's nerves.

Mr. Stark sighed, much to my surprise. He sat back in his seat. "Well played, Jackson."

"My name is Dr. Bruce Banner," said Dr. Bruce. "Feel free to call me Dr. Bruce."

Percy nodded. "Naturally."

"Natasha Romanoff. If you can beat me in hand to hand combat, you can call me whatever you like," Ms. Romanoff deadpanned. "Until then, Ms. Romanoff will do."

"Sweet. I look forward to it," Percy replied.

"Steve Rogers, call me Mr. Rogers for now."

"Wanda Maximoff, just Wanda will do."

"Clint Barton. I prefer Clint."

Percy made eye contact with every one before finding a seat of his own. "What now?"

"Tomorrow," Mr. Rogers announced, "you'll start training. Today, Dr. Bruce is going to give you a good looking over to make sure you're in good shape for this. Apparently, the last doctor's appointment we have on file for you would be from when you were twelve."

Percy glared and Mr. Rogers flinched for a moment. "I've seen doctors, I just don't have them on file. If you'd like, I can go see about getting you the records."

"I'm sorry, that's not permitted," Dr. Bruce intervened. "We're about to head to the kitchen for lunch. Afterwards, I'll be required to give you an intensive physical."

"No," Percy growled.

"Yes," Dr. Bruce countered.

"No, not gonna happen."

"Yes, yes it will."

"I refuse."

"C'mon Perce," I sighed, "what's the big deal?"

He seemed to slump back in his seat, defeated. He muttered something under his breath before studying his shoes. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't make me take any clothes off and it'll be fine."