Tower of Secrets

Percy Jackson

We had a little bit of trouble dying the cheese blue.

And, by a little bit, I mean both Annabeth and I were covered in blue from the waist up and we somehow managed to get some blue on Mr. Rogers's arm from across the room. Don't ask.

Naturally, I made no effort to clean up before calling everyone for dinner, making it so Annabeth never got a chance and my friends could see us in all our blue glory. We served the blue masterpiece with pride, even if we kept getting amused glances by the team.

"So, what's with the whole Smurf thing you two've got going on?" Tony asked amused as I placed a plate of cheesy goodness in front of him. "This some sort of couples thing?"

Annabeth chuckled. "No, this the blus food is a Jackson family tradition. Seaweed Brain never actually told me how it got started, but maybe it's time he told us the story?"

I paused. I could tell them the truth: that my first stepfather, Smelly Gabe, was an abusive alcoholic who claimed that blue food didn't exist, leading to my mom going out of her way to prove him wrong at every meal. Or, I could lie, maybe make up a story about how it happened, although Annabeth has seen me improvise enough to tell when I'm making something up on the spot. So, as I've never been one to play by the rules, I made up a third option: avoid answering the question like my life depended on it.

"Where's the fun in that?" I smirked.

Annabeth just rolled her eyes, although I did catch a glint of suspicion in them, despite my attempt. "Whatever, Seaweed Brain."

"You never did answer why you're both blue," Tony reminded.

I looked at him incredulously. "Have you ever tried to dye cheese blue without modifying the taste?" He shook his head. "My point exactly."

"It's a little funny, isn't it?" Clint laughed after taking his first bite.

"What's so funny?" Natasha deadpanned.

"I just realized," Clint said between bites, "the two people who can cook are also the two people who can't eat."

I knew he was trying to be funny, but it would be a lie to say it didn't sting a little. Clint was right. I couldn't eat. I couldn't do something that was so obviously normal that I couldn't go a day without being reminded of it. I stiffened and I could feel Annabeth do so as well from where she was standing beside me.

Clint picked up on this quickly and stopped laughing.

Knowing that the atmosphere would stay stiff for at least a moment longer, I asked a question that seemed to fit. "Speaking of things we can't do, when's the last time you slept, Wise Girl?"

Annabeth pouted. "A couple of days ago. What about you?"

"I got a good three hours in recently," I admitted. "We should..." I paused, glancing at the heroes. They seemed to have started a conversation of their own. "...sleep in my room, like at camp. That usually helps the nightmares."

She nodded. "I could a use a good night of sleep." We stood there for a moment, watching the others converse. "I think I'm gonna go clean up." With that, she left.

I watched as the conversation unfolded in front of me. "I challenge you to a Mario Kart match!" Clint declared to Peter.

"Prepare to loose, Bird Brain!" Peter grinned. "After I defeat you, I challange Wanda!"

"Then, I'll take on Tony!"

"Okay, but I bet I can beat Percy!" Tony decided. "Perce, you in?"

I shrugged. "I've never played, but sure."

"You've never played Mario Kart before?!" Clint exclaimed. "Next, you'll be trying to tell us you don't have any games on your phone!"

"I don't have a phone."

Clint paled significantly. "No phone?!? Why?"

I shrugged. "Something to do with satellites and attracting monsters--something I'm not too keen on doing."

"Looks like I'll have to build the very first monster-proof tech!" Tony grinned, a crazy and probably sleep deprived gleam in his eyes. "I'll see you in 72 hours, tops, with a prototype. Pete, you in?"

"Definitely, Mr. Stark!" Peter exclaimed as the duo stood.

At first, I had pegged Tony as Peter's favorite teacher (although it was a pretty close tie between all of them), but after finding out that they were all superheroes? I deduced that the duo had a closer relationship than the casual teacher/student relationship they tried to play it off as. Then, I remembered something the boy had confessed to me back when we actually went to school together, pre-knowing about the demigod world. Peter Parker's parents were dead. As far as I knew, Pete lived with his Aunt May and Uncle Ben before he moved into the tower. Which meant that Tony was probably another father-figure for the arachnid-themed hero.

The conclusion made me smile. I watched as the banter continued at the table, occasionally piping in comments and responding to a few questions. I let out a contented sigh and closed my eyes. My smile immediately faded and was replaced with a pained expression.

Charlie Beckendorf. I saw him.

My breathing hitched. I opened my eyes as quickly as demigodly possible. I slowed my breath and attempted to match pace with Wanda's. It was a fail. My breathing was shallow and I couldn't seem to catch my breath, no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't seem to focus on any single thing, my eyes darting around the room. Something at the table shifted, but I couldn't identify what in the state I was in.

Silena Beauregard. Why did I have to blink?

"Percy, you good?" Who spoke? I honestly couldn't tell immediately. Was it male or female? Female, maybe. The tone was soft and young. Probably Wanda.

My eyes stung. Was I about to cry? I blinked rapidly in an attempt to remove the tears from my eyes. Big mistake.

Faces and images flashed through my brain. The faces were of the dead. The images were of the horrible battles I had witnessed. Thankfully, very few of the scenes were from the Pit.

"Percy?" Upon deciding it was a guy speaking that time, I gave up on figuring out who was trying to get my attention. I felt a pressure on my shoulder. A hand. Who did the hand belong to? My eyes traced the features of Steve Rogers. "What are you seeing, son?"

I opened my mouth, which seemed incredibly dry. I closed it and tried my best to moisten it enough to talk. "I-I-" I stopped myself. "The w-wars," I whispered. I felt small, totally alone. The tower seemed far away. Where was I? In all honesty, my mind was whirling through every event and every scar I had gained since finding out my heritage.

And, just like that, I was back at the tower. I came to my senses and realized Mr. Rogers had engulfed me in a knowing hug, and my tears were staining his shoulder. "It's over, Percy," he whispered soothingly. He rubbed circles on my back and a thumb from the other hand rubbed my shoulder blade gently.

The conversation at the table had resumed, although hushed. They seemed to be wondering about what I had said about having been in a war. 'Wars', I corrected mentally. I had said 'wars'. Plural. They know I've been in multiple.

Styx.