Tower of Secrets

Steve Rogers

I woke up at six in the morning and headed to the kitchen for breakfast. I decided to make pancakes. "Jarvis is anyone awake?" I asked, already knowing that I was the first one up, as per usual.

"Yes. Percy Jackson is awake." I was surprised, to say the least.

"Did he just wake up?"

"No. Mr. Jackson has been awake since exactly 3:46 am." What?

"Elaborate. What's he been doing?" I demanded.

"Mr. Jackson woke up to change his sister's diaper then walked to the kitchen and ate a bite of an apple before throwing it away and going to the pool. He is still there."

"What's he doing?"

"He has disabled the video. I do not know."

"Is there any audio?"

"Yes, but he is not making any sound."

"Override and show me what he's doing," I decided. I watched as saw that he was sitting underwater. He was awake for certain. But, I watched hin for several minutes and he never came up for air. Eventually, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Jarvis, what time is it?" he asked.

"6:10 am."

"So that means that Mr. Rogers is up now, right?"

"Yes, he is in the kitchen watching you."

"Styx! I thought I disabled the video in here!" Percy groaned. He swam up to the surface, completely dry. What?

"Mr. Rogers has the clearance to override that command," Jarvis informed. He groaned again.

"Jarvis, that's enough," I said and continued to work on the pancakes. A few minutes later, he came in and gave me a wolf glare like I'd never seen before. It was petrifying. "Gosh, kid. Fury can't even glare that well."

"What'd you see? I know you were watching me," he asked eventually.

I paused. I decided it was best that he didn't know that I watched him sit underwater for five minutes. "Just that conversation with you and Jarvis."

"Good. What time does the training start?"

"I'll have Jarvis call you. You should try and get some shut eye in before we get started. I heard you were up before four," I suggested. He grunted in response and walked off.

As I sat eating my pancakes, I thought about the kid. There was definitely something off about him. He had a weapon that could kill monsters that bullets couldn't even touch. Not to mention, the monsters seemed to know who he was. They called him a halfblood. What was a halfblood? Why did they call him a hero? What was the other thing they referred to him as? The lightning bringer?

What?

And those scars! Sure, some of them definitely looked like battle wounds from fighting monsters, but others? What about those words carved into his skin? Who would do that to a kid?

Eventually, Bruce woke up and joined me. "Good morning. What's on your mind?" he asked.

"Percy," I answered. "Those words on his body--who would do that?"

"Did you notice the scarring on his keft shoulder?" Bruce mentioned. I shook my head. "Broken beer bottle. I bet his first stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, was..." He trailed off. We were both thinking it, but neither of us wanted to voice the thought. We knew it was true though.

Percy Jackson had been abused the first twelve years of his life.

"Think Wanda will be able to use her powers to figure out just what happened?" I suggested.

"Perhaps. Then we might stand a chance at helping the poor kid," Bruce sighed.

"There's something else," I added. "I think he might have powers of his own. I saw footage of him underwater. He was there for several minutes before finally coming up to leave completely dry!"

"Maybe I could test his DNA for traces of a hint as to what happened," Bruce suggested. "When you spar with him today, make him bleed or grab a hair. Be careful not to mix it with your own, though."

"You think he could make me bleed?" I chuckled. "I'm a super soldier."

"In all your super soldierness," Bruce laughed, "you would've been ripped apart by those monsters yesterday." I joined in laughing.

"You're right, we'd both be monster chow!"

Several hours later, Peter and Percy were in the gym with me. "How much can you benchpress?" I asked as we headed over to the station. Both boys just shrugged.

"I've never really tested my limits," Peter commented. Percy nodded in agreement, eyeing the weights carefully.

"Okay, Peter. Go first," I decided. The scrawny brown haired boy scrambled over to the weights. Peter started at two hundred pounds, much to my surprise. He barely broke a sweat. He continued to add weight until I lost track. I dimly remembered he mentioned his powers increased his strength. After he decided he had pushed his abilities far enough, he resigned to let Percy go ahead. "Want help getting the weight off."

Percy walked up to the bar and I was surprised to see he could lift it up. He shrugged, "I think I'll take a little bit off, no need for the extra help. Thanks, though." He decreased it by twenty pounds. And muttered something alomg the lines of: "Can't be heavier than the sky." He laid down and did several reps.

Needless to say, Peter and I shared a surprised glance. Percy could keep pace with a superpowered teen, go figure.

When we moved onto squats, Percy outdid Peter by over a hundred pounds, again muttered a totally out of context sentence: "This is closer to the position. Atlas would just love these." I noticed that the more strain he put on his body, the more a grey streak in his hair seemed to show.

"Son, did you dye your hair grey?" I questioned once he had finished.

He seemed taken aback by the question, his hand instantly flying to the grey strands in his hair. He blushed. "My mom said it was hereditary on my dad's side. She said she could tell how he was feeling by how prominent it was: physical or mental strain would lead to more grey." He was lying, obviously. I could see it in his eyes. I wondered what the story behind the hair was and why he was intent on keeping it secret.

Maybe he thought he would get some sort of lecture from me? For whatever reason, I doubted that was the case.