"UGH," PERCY GROANED, holding his head in his hands. "I feel like someone beat my skull with a frying pan."

Annabeth placed her hand on his free one in comfort. "Is it worse than last time?"

He peeked at her through his fingers. "Not necessarily."

Annabeth nodded solemnly and studied their surroundings. They were sitting at the dining table in one of the living rooms at Providence: this one also had a full kitchen as well as a chairs and a sofa. The base was impressive, Annabeth had to admit. The architecture told her that the whole place was made to be sturdy in the event of seismic activity—the framework was built to withstand up to a seven on the Richter scale, and even past that, only minor damage would occur. She wondered where they could be in terms of tectonic plates that this would be a regular issue.

She didn't know how big it was, but from what they'd seen, it was pretty freakin' big. When the plane landed, the ground had opened up to reveal a huge hangar—and the plane had lowered itself down into it like a helicopter. Annabeth was itching to figure out how. Percy had jolted awake as soon as they touched down. She had to take a few seconds to calm him, and then they walked arm in arm down the ramp with the team. She'd done her best to tell him what had happened, and then she expressed her gut feeling—they could trust them. Percy grudgingly agreed. As much as he didn't like the circumstances or the way they'd been treated, there was something that told him they were on the same side.

As it was, the two of them had been dumped here while the team met somewhere else. Coulson said they'd be back soon, and it had only been ten minutes by Annabeth's estimation. Also, there was a clock on the wall.

Percy cleared his throat, jolting Annabeth out of her reverie. "So, we're going to tell them?" His eyes glinted with worry.

Annabeth smiled weakly and squeezed his hand from across the tabletop. "I don't really see any other way out of this. We won't tell them everything, of course," she said quickly, answering his unasked question. "Just the basics. Otherwise they might lock us up for criminal activity or something."

Percy bit his lip, looking down at their interlocked fingers. "Yeah. . .I mean, they're secret agents. They can keep secrets, clearly, but. . ." He trailed off.

Annabeth understood him perfectly. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his, closing her eyes. She didn't want to think. She didn't want anything to happen. She just wanted to be.

But no! Their sort-of-kidnappers chose right then to come through the door. At least, that was what her ears told her. She didn't move, keeping her eyes shut as if it would make them go away. Percy didn't move, either.

"Hi," Coulson's voice greeted.

"Hello," Annabeth muttered, opening one eye. Daisy was perched on the arm of the sofa, with Jemma standing behind her a little ways. Fitz had taken a dining chair a few feet away from them. Coulson had his arms crossed. He didn't look angry, though. More inquisitive. Reluctantly, she sat up to face them. "You came to ask questions?"

"Nah," Mack reassured her. She hadn't seen him at first because he was sprawled on the couch, entirely at ease. "We'll just swap stories. How's that?"

Percy huffed. "You first." His hair was disheveled. It was adorable. Annabeth smirked, nodding. No way was she going to spill her guts first.

Coulson nodded as if he was expecting that and gestured to Daisy. "Go ahead."

She stood up and waved halfheartedly. "Hi, I'm Daisy Johnson, formerly Skye, and before that the nuns at the orphanage named me Mary Sue Poots, so obviously that didn't sit well," she said, and tucked some hair behind her ear. Annabeth had to smile. Lightheartedness was hard to come by.

She and Percy listened politely, fingers entwined, as Daisy told them about Mike Peterson, then Grant Ward, then Terragenesis and her parents, HIVE, and the Inhumans. These guys really had seen it all—almost. At least, now they knew it was easy for S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to keep secrets.

"Wow," Annabeth monotoned when Daisy finished. "So you make earthquakes?"

Percy chuckled, no doubt relishing the looks the agents were giving her—once again, her question was unanticipated.

"Uhh, yeah," Daisy confirmed, running a hand through her hair. "I can control the vibrational concentration, too. Like, if I wanted to shatter that waterglass—" she gestured to the one Fitz was holding, who made a protesting noise but stayed still, "—I could do it without touching anything else." She didn't shatter the glass. Instead, the water inside rippled as a ringing sound resonated from it, louder and louder until it cut off. "See?"

Annabeth brought a finger to her chin. "So that's the reason for the reinforcements," she said, almost to herself.

"Sorry?" Jemma spoke up, confusion written on her face.

"The architecture," Percy explained. "She's an architecture nut. Even I can tell this place is made to withstand a lot of force."

"A magnitude 7, maybe 8 on the Richter scale," Annabeth continued. "But in concentrated blasts? More than enough precautions, it'd have almost no effect..." Annabeth trailed off, looking to Coulson. "Sorry. I get carried away. Um, can I see your prosthetic?"

Coulson obliged, holding it out as if for a handshake. Annabeth took it. "Wow, it feels real." She followed along as he ran her through a quick breakdown of its capabilities. Her face felt hot with excitement. She'd have to tell the Hephaestus cabin all about it. . .

Mack cleared his throat. "What about you guys?"

Annabeth exchanged a glance with Percy, who looked like he'd rather play pinochle with Dionysus. She bit her lip and turned her attention back to the agents waiting ever so patiently. "It's not something we tell just anyone. Can we. . .can we leave the unimportant stuff out?"

          Coulson shrugged. "I don't see why not."

Percy let out a breath. "Okay. Umm. . .wow. Uh, this is hard." He blinked. "Okay. So we're not. . .normal." He was having such a hard time. It was insanely cute when he was lost for words. "Uh, Annabeth said you guys were talking about Thor?"

"We were," Jemma confirmed. "Ancient Norse thought Asgardians were gods, but really they're—"

"No, they are," Percy interrupted. Annabeth could tell he felt bad about it, but she squeezed his hand anyways. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. Jemma didn't seem to have a problem, motioning for him to continue. "They're gods. Just not ours."

Coulson pursed his lips. "And yours are. . ?"

"Greek," Percy answered. Annabeth almost laughed—he sounded more miserable than she'd ever heard him. Okay, that wasn't true. Maybe more miserable talking to mortals than she'd ever heard him. That was more plausible but also probably not true either.

"Greek." Mack repeated. He was sitting more upright on the couch now, as if he was trying to hear better. "You worship pagan gods?"

Annabeth couldn't help but laugh. "Not really. We're just their kids."

Silence for one. . .two. . .

Percy gave her a glance that said dude, what the heck was that??

She just shrugged. They might as well get it over with—there wasn't much of a point in beating around the bush.

"Their kids," Daisy choked, looking skeptical. "What—"

"Demigods," Fitz said quietly, almost to himself.

The other agents looked at him, almost like they were all wondering the exact same thing that Annabeth was. How does he know?

He did kind of a mini double-take. "Uh, well, we picked up the term with the security cameras and. . .well, you know, Odysseus. The myths."

Annabeth nodded. "Yeah. So they're real. We're their kids."

Coulson nodded slowly, his eyebrows knit together in thought. "And this Magnus guy you mentioned. . ."

Annabeth shrugged. She was doing that a lot. "My cousin. Really only brought him up because you said Asgardian and Thor and stuff. Yeah, he's a demigod, too. Son of Frey."

Jemma squinted, her body language screaming confusion. "What?"

"We don't really know that much," Percy stepped in, side-eyeing Annabeth like, okay, I see why you're doing this. "There's just a lot of them. We're Greek. He's Norse."

"How many. . .demi. . .dem. . ." Mack struggled.

"Demigods," Jemma said helpfully.

"Uh, right." Mack nodded. "How many are there?"

Annabeth bit her lip. "We, uh, we don't know," she admitted. There was some truth to it. "We kind of just ran into each other."

"The weapons?" Daisy asked.

"Appeared randomly," Percy answered smoothly. "When we were in trouble. Guess our parents wanted to help out."

"Okay, hold on a second," Coulson said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Your parents are?"

Annabeth took a breath, trying to quell the roiling in her stomach, saying no, don't, you're not supposed to just tell people this. "My mom's Athena," she said before she could change her mind.

"Poseidon."

"All right then. Next. In trouble how?" Coulson appeared to be stressed. He probably was.

"So you know how in the myths, they have to kill monsters and stuff?" Percy asked. His voice was steady. He could have been asking what they'd had for breakfast in the same way.

          He didn't really get an answer, but it was sort of a rhetorical question. He continued. "Yeah, okay. Um, they're all real, too, and we have to keep them from killing us."

          Daisy choked for a second, recovering just to say, "What? Why would they want to kill you?"

         Annabeth shrugged, gripping Percy's hand a little tighter. "They hate the gods. The gods can't be killed. Next best thing is demigods, bonus points if they can roast and eat us." She thought back to Polyphemus right then, and the mango chutney Grover had promised to teach him how to make so they'd taste better. She smiled in spite of herself, and something told her it was weird to smile after saying something so cryptic about her own potential demise, but she couldn't help it.

          Coulson blinked. A quick scan of the room told her that the other agents had a similar reaction to that. She understood. Mortals—even mortals who knew some things but not all, like them—had a hard time imagining what that was like.

          "So, yeah," Percy said softly. "We kind of need our weapons back."

          "Soon," May's voice said from the back of the room, startling Annabeth so badly she almost jumped. The woman had been here the entire time. Not saying anything. It unnerved her how easily May could be ignored. "You'll have to pass the polygraph first." She stepped a little closer to the two, analyzing them with trained eyes. "But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Who were the people on the plane earlier?"

          Percy sighed, rubbing his face with one hand like he was exhausted. "Yeah, we know them. They're other demigods we've run into while trying not to die." There wasn't much use in not telling them that Jason and Nico were demigods—Jason had been flying and Nico had pretty much melted himself through the hull of the plane just to talk to them. "They got a little. . .concerned."

          "Okay," May said, crossing her arms. "And what about this camp you mentioned?"

          Annabeth felt Percy tense. She squeezed his hand again, trying to ask him to take deep breaths. "It's not much," she lied through her teeth. "We just have a little. . .setup. Stole a few tents a while back, actually." She ran a hand through her hair, racking her brain, trying to sound like she was at least being truthful. "It's where some of the demigods we've run into live. We move it around every few days so it's harder for people to find it. There's about ten in all." She hoped to all the gods they'd be able to stick by the story. At least if they accidentally mentioned another demigod in passing, they had an excuse.

          May nodded, seeming satisfied for a moment before opening her mouth again. Before she could say anything else, though, Fitz started beeping.

         Okay, it wasn't Fitz. But he had his tablet with him, and that was beeping, so, close enough. "Proximity alarm's been tripped," he announced to the room. "Pulling up camera feed."

          The agents turned their attention to one of the monitors located around the room, so Annabeth followed suit. The screen flickered on, displaying the security footage from one of the entrances. Next to her, Percy groaned loudly and rubbed his temple.

          Annabeth had to agree.

          "A. . .helicopter?" Fitz said incredulously, regarding the screen as if he thought it was lying to him. "A baby helicopter?"

          "Are you crazy?" Mack retorted, looking from Fitz to the monitor and back again. "It isn't a—"

          "I know it's not a baby, Mack, but it's really small—"

          "I don't know what you're looking at, Turbo, because that's definitely not a helicopter. At all."

          Fitz looked anxious, studying the other agents' reactions, but they all looked equally confused.

          "He's right," Annabeth sighed, forcing herself up from the chair. "That's a gryphon. And where there's one, there's always more."

𝚫

:)
hi y'all! how's it going? what's up? it's your favorite author, writing to you from your normal 6-hour car ride :) also guess who has no school for the next week :) it's me :) that's the answer :) but i figured i'd help cheer y'all up because it's technically monday since yesterday was president's day so, surprise :) :) do you like? yes/no? i didn't edit at all so if you find any typos please tell me so i can fix em :) love you guys so much and thanks for your support! fight scene next chapter YEAH!!!
question since i was just on a college visit: y'all's dream college/major?? i dont know either but i'm curious about yours :) :)

anyways. ttyl,
cajoling