Turning the tides of war

Book 2

They didn't ask. They ordered.
And when the gods of Olympus give an order, you don't get to say no.
"Bless Percy Jackson. He must be sent back in time... to fight as James Buchanan Barnes."
I stood there, jaw tight, as the gods raised their hands. Even Chaos - the thing older than time itself - joined in. Some blessed me with hate burning in their eyes. Others with guilt.
It didn't matter.
Their power tore through me anyway.
I felt it - my skin splitting, my bones burning, something ancient carving itself into my blood. I was being remade. Weaponized. Again.
One thought clawed its way through the pain:
Let him recognize me. Please. Let Steve still see me.
The world broke apart.

Brooklyn. 1943.
The stink of oil and metal in the air. A heavy jacket clinging to my frame. Dog tags slapping against my chest with every step.
I didn't remember hitting the ground. I was just here.
And I was already running - down cracked sidewalks, around a corner - toward the sounds of a fight.
There he was.
Small. Scrappy. All heart.
Steve Rogers, swinging fists against a man twice his size - and losing badly.
Before I even thought about it, I was in the alley, throwing myself into the fight. Into the fire.
The gods wanted a weapon?
Fine.
I'd give them one.
But they would never own me.
Not again.

Disclaimer:I DON'T OWN PERCY JACKSON, OR THE AVENGER/ MARVEL MOVIES THEY BELONG TO RICK RIORDAN AND MARVEL IF I WERE ONE OF THEM I WOULDN'T BE WRITING ON WATTPAD only one so don't yell at me 😊