Chapter 2 - Arrows Cutting Through the Cold by Lord_Ghirahim part 2

Chapter 7: It's the Most Traumatic Time of the YearNotes:Happy New Year, everyone! Have a great day, and thanks for the continued support! Love you guys!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter TextChapter Seven: It's the Most Traumatic Time of the Year

Annabeth was immediately in strategizing mode.

"Okay, look, what do we know? Kate, you said you saw the telekhines with the Tracksuits? Where were they? What were they doing?"

Kate cleared her throat. "Um, they were outside of my apartment, uh, throwing Molotov cocktails made of Greek fire." She mumbled.

A beat of silence. Then—

"What?!" Annabeth yelled.

"Are you okay?!" Percy shouted.

"Why didn't you open with that?!" Annabeth fussed.

"How hurt are you? Do you have enough nectar and ambrosia?" Percy asked.

Kate raised her hands in a placating gesture. "Relax, I'm fine. Hawkeye's given me some soap, bandages, and rubbing alcohol, but I'm not going to eat any ambrosia or nectar so I don't heal suspiciously fast—"

"Hawkeye?!" Percy cried. "You didn't say you were hanging around an Avenger!"

Even level-headed Annabeth was awed. "Can you get me his autograph? I mean, the Clint Barton—di immortales—"

"Guys, please!" Kate said. "Can we please focus on the unholy alliance between monsters and mortals, which hasn't been seen since Kronos was rising? That seems mildly more important than who I may be hanging around."

That jarred Annabeth back to reality. "Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry. Okay, look, what's happened so far, Kate?"

So, Kate told them everything that had happened since the clock tower, from meeting Hawkeye to watching her apartment burn.

"So, yeah," she finished. "And we've been staying at Sally's old apartment. I swear, Smelly Gabe's odor is still in here, eleven years on."

Percy chuckled, though it was slightly muted. "Right. Look, just stay safe and tread carefully, okay?"

Annabeth nodded. "Keep your nose clean, and try to get as much information as you can. I'll reach out to the other seven, see if Frank or Hazel have heard anything about similar alliances."

Kate nodded. "Yeah. Okay. I'll try to keep you posted whenever I get a chance to make an Iris Message without getting Clint's attention."

Percy shook his head in disbelief. "First name basis with an Avenger…"

Annabeth sighed, and ended the connection. As the rainbow image faded, Kate could hear faint traces of Annabeth chewing Percy out.

Kate smiled faintly. It really was nice, having such caring friends who fussed over her when she was hurt like that.

She stood, and begun treating her wounds.

Some time later, someone knocked at the door, and the dog got up, wagging his tail. Finally, Clint had returned.

She walked over from the kitchen, and swung the door open.

He brushed right past her. "Excuse me."

Kate scoffed, and stepped aside. "Welcome, sir. May I take your coat while I'm here?"

Clint tossed a black hoodie over her head. She scowled, and threw it off, making her hair stick out at odd angles. "I wasn't being serious."

She followed Clint to the kitchen, where he was staring blankly at a frozen pizza on the table. "What are you doing?"

"I'm thawing out Pizza Dog's breakfast." She told him. "Is that okay with you?"

He turned. "You know, they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."

"But the highest form of intelligence." She countered.

He grunted. "Pizza dog… is that his name?"

Kate sat down in a chair, and leaned back. "Hmm… no. He doesn't have a name. It's more a title of nobility. Like… Earl of Sandwich." Or Hero of Olympus, she thought ruefully.

Clint nodded slowly. "Right, well… I realized that you probably don't know how to dress your wound right, being young and inexperienced at this stuff, so I was gonna—"

He broke off when he saw her wound.

Kate realized her mistake immediately. "Um, what, did I do something wrong?" She asked, well aware she hadn't.

"No, it's, um… you've done it perfectly, actually. Textbook. Deep cut, got it perpendicular, closed and cinched… you sure you're not going into medicine?" He asked.

"No, I told you, my major is—"

"Alright." He said. "I was just being polite."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Well, you've mastered that one. A real gentleman, you are."

Clint stopped at the counter. "What's this?"

He tapped a pencil drawing of what might have been the inane doodles of a madman, or a three year old's attempt at a self-portrait.

She blushed. "Oh, um, I started a police sketch of what I could remember of the tracksuit's faces."

He leveled his gaze with hers. "You're not an art major." It wasn't a question.

"No, I'm majoring in—" Kate began.

"Mmm."

Kate steamed. He was kind of a dick. She knew that whole thing about never meet your heroes, but jeez.

And insulting her art skills—that was a low blow. She was well aware that she hadn't inherited the drawing skills of her father, but she liked to think she was as good at poetry as he was:

Hawkeye is a jerk

But, it is kinda my fault

I ruined his Christmas

Wait, that was six syllables at the end.

Hurt his Christmas?

No, that was four…

"Well, look," Clint said, "Your apartment is extra crispy, but I found—"

Kate snapped her fingers. "I stole his Christmas!There, that's five syllables!"

Clint stared at her, and Kate flushed deep red.

"Ooo-kay. Thank you for sharing." He said. "Now I've gotta go. Stay here. I'll be back to tonight."

Kate nodded, still too embarrassed to speak.

Yep, she was as terrible at poetry as Apollo was.

Clint stood outside in the cold, looking down at the glowing blue screen of his phone.

He tapped play, and the TikTok started.

A tall and thin black man chuckled at the camera. 

"People always like, 'Grills, when you gettin' a new costume? Your costume looks pretty bad.'"

He jumped, and edited it so he was wearing the Ronin suit when he came down.

"How about now? You see me? When you see me sneakin' and creepin', it's too late. You're already dead. Ninja style."

Clint groaned. "Oh, shit."

He pocketed his phone, and rounded the corner, where Lila, Cooper, and Nate were loading their stuff from the hotel into the car.

He shook his head. "Cooper, off your phone."

He grumbled, but put it away.

Clint nodded. "Thank you. Now, this is a car to the airport. Once you get to the airport, Lila's in charge."

"What? Why's she in charge?" Cooper complained. "I've got seniority."

"Well, you're an idiot." Lila informed him.

"When you land, your mom is gonna be waiting there, okay?" Clint said, swiftly putting down their spat before it could escalate.

Lila narrowed her eyes. "Is this about the ninja?"

"No, it's not about the ninja." Clint reassured her.

Cooper shook his head. "Dad, we're worried about you. Lila and I have been talking, and we think you need to slow down, you know? Try to—"

Clint laughed slightly. "Is this an intervention, or something? Guys, I'm fine. Look, it's my job to worry about you, not the other way around. Okay?"

Lila hesitated. "Okay, but—"

Cooper and Nate got in, and closed the door, but Lila was still hesitant.

Clint tilted his head. "What is it?"

"You have a cut on your forehead, Dad." She said quietly.

He lifted a finger to it, and lowered it.

"What's going on?" She asked. "Should we be worried?"

Clint took her hands. "No, no. It's nothing. Daddy's got this. It's no big deal. Okay? Come on."

She sighed. "I really thought you were going to be home for Christmas." 

He blinked. She's too young, he thought, to be used to disappointment.

"Hey, look at me. Look at me." He said.

She did.

"I'll be home for Christmas. Okay?" He told her.

"Promise me." She said.

He smiled. "I promise. Remember, you're in charge. You always have been. Look after these boys."

She scooted into the car.

He nodded. "Merry Christmas. See you soon."

"Keep your word, okay?" She asked.

"I will. I promise. You guys be safe, okay?"

She nodded reluctantly. "Okay."

Clint smiled. "Call me when you get home? I love you."

"I love you too, Dad."

Cooper waved. "Love you, Dad."

Nathaniel pressed his face against the window. "We love you, Daddy!"

"Love you too!" Clint called, as the car drove off.

As quiet as his training allowed him to be, he still didn't trust his own ears as he snuck back into the Jackson apartment. Everything came across as more muted now, less loud than he was sure it really was.

Hearing aids weren't perfect substitutes for, well, hearing.

So, he took extra care to step as quietly as possible, using the heels of his feet to deaden his footsteps even more. Even the most prepared, most paranoid mark in the world wouldn't be able to hear him, he thought—

"NO! I WON'T TELL YOU ANYTHING! PLEASE, STOP!" Kate screamed.

All stealth was immediately abandoned as he sprinted into Kate's room, heart pounding. Had a Tracksuit found her? Maybe one of the more powerful enemies the suit had made?

Her door flew open, to reveal her writhing in her bed, drenched in sweat, her sheets sticky. She was shrieking and crying out at the top of her lungs, thrashing around her arms and legs. Her face was scrunched up in agony, her eyes screwed shut.

He'd heard something somewhere about how it wasn't a good idea to wake people from night terrors, but he couldn't just stand by and watch this. He ran over, and began shaking her awake.

As he expected, she instinctually swung at him, but he dodged it and continued trying to wake her.

Finally, she opened her eyes wide and gasped. She stopped flailing. She was breathing hard and fast, taking in the room, as though to reassure herself that she was awake.

Then, she pressed her head into his shoulder, and begun sobbing hard.

He was surprised, but made no move to stop her. He patted the back of her head, stroking her black hair softly.

Finally, after an incalculable amount of time, she pulled away, sniffling.

She wiped her nose, and took a shuddering breath.

"I know…" she rubbed her red eyes. "I know you have your suspicions, your questions… but please, let me have tonight, okay?"

He nodded silently.

She hung her head. "Then, I'll tell you everything."

Notes:Chapter title derived from It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year, written by Edward Pola and George Wyle in 1963.

Chapter 8: Run Run KateNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextChapter Eight: Run Run Kate

It was 11:42 PM.

The dim glow of the red alarm clock cast an eerie crimson light over Kate Bishop's tearstained face.

Clint had left the room after their brief conversation. She had no doubt he was close by, ready to wake her if she had another night terror, but she had no interest in falling asleep again.

She shuddered, remembering the memory that had replayed itself in her mind.

She remembered being kidnapped by a swarm of gryphons and Earthborn, being mocked by the king of the Giants, being tortured for information for three straight days.

She remembered being forced to gargle a concoction of the Styx, Acheron, Cocytus, and Phlegethon. She remembered her arms and legs repeatedly crushed and healed and crushed in an agonizing cycle, feeling her bones splinter and shatter—

She closed her eyes, forcing the memories down.

Keep your demigod life and your mortal life separated, she recited to herself, and move ahead of the past.

It was what kept her going, the boundaries between her lives. She couldn't let them merge, couldn't let the past come back to get her again.

Her eyes flew open. Then what the Hades am I doing?! she wondered. Here I am, telling myself to keep the past in the past, and now I'm about to tell Clint everything?!

He had a lead, didn't he? Yeah, he was about to say he did. Yeah. He could handle it. He had a lead on the suit's location. All he had to do was get the Ronin suit, and this would all be done with. He didn't need her.

She didn't need to tell him about the gods, the monsters and Fates that ruled her life. She could run, preserve her sanity.

But where to go? She needed to lie low for the night, and her apartment was a tad too overcooked to hang around.

Sally. Sally Jackson's current place. It was only ten minutes away, and she and Paul would understand. Gods, Percy and Annabeth were staying there for the holidays. It was perfect!

It was settled. She would run away from her problems—

What? No, no. It was… she was removing herself from the equation. Clint had made it clear she wouldn't be any help anyway. 

She nodded, and started scrawling a note for Clint.

"Kate?"

Percy stood in the doorway, baffled. A bluish darkness was cast over everything, quiet moonlight shining through a window behind him.

Kate smiled awkwardly. "Hi…"

"I thought everything was good. Did something happen?" He asked. His eyes were heavy—he'd just woken up.

She nodded. "Um, can I come in?"

He nodded, "Uh, yeah, of course."

He closed the door behind her. "Everyone's still asleep, so try to be quiet. But Estelle will be up in a little while anyway, which will get everyone up again, so just try to be quiet for about twenty minutes, I guess."

Kate nodded distractedly. "Yeah, yeah."

The two sat at the counter of the kitchen, Percy yawning and rubbing his sea-green eyes.

Kate winced. "Styx, I'm really sorry I woke you up…"

He shook his head. "No, no, it's fine. Really. Truthfully, Kate, I'm really glad you're here. I mean, I've been really worried about you. We all have been."

"Percy—" Kate began.

"No, look, I know what you're going to say. But I've been talking with Nico, and—"

"Percy—!"

He shook his head. "Kate, look, I love you. We all love you. But—"

"Percy!" Kate said. "I'm trying to say that you're right."

Percy was surprised, opening and closing his mouth slowly, like a fish. "Oh."

"Yeah."

He paused. "I mean, you sure? I had, like, a whole speech prepared…"

She laughed. "Really. I understand."

"I mean, I rehearsed it a few times with Annabeth. I'm kinda stung it was all for nothing…" he mumbled.

She smacked his arm. "Percy. Look, I haven't…" she swallowed. "I haven't handled everything well. That's on me. But—"

"No, it's not." His eyes were fiery.

Kate broke off. "It's… not?"

"Kate, you know how we demigods have improved reflexes and stuff? Faster and stronger than an equally fit mortal? More pain resilience?" He asked.

She nodded mutely.

"Annabeth was telling me—it works the same way mentally, too. Demigods have greater mental fortitude than most mortals. We can deal with more stuff. For a life of fighting monsters. But you, and me, and everyone else in the prophecy, we went through more than even demigods usually do. I have night terrors, too." He said.

She looked up, vulnerable. "I didn't tell you—"

"You didn't have to. Annabeth does too. Nico, Hazel, Jason, everyone." He grasped her hand. "Kate, we're all in the same boat. You're not alone, here. We're your family, and we're here for you."

Kate wiped her eyes, and Percy seemed misty, too. "Thank you."

He smiled sadly. "I'm only sorry—I'm sorry we weren't with you, Kate. When everyone got Snapped… Chiron was gone, and everyone in the Hephaestus cabin was, too, and way more. It was a mess, trying to run a camp full of ADHD demigods without any adults. And Camp Jupiter had the same problem, and—" 

He took a breath. "But that doesn't excuse it. You fell through the cracks, Kate, and we got too busy to help our best friend. You. We abandoned you for five years, and that's on us."

Kate shook her head. "No, Percy, it wasn't. You can't—you all had jobs to do." she sighed. "Look. How about we start over? We try to heal… together. Deal?

Percy smiled. "Deal."

"Deal." Annabeth said from the doorway.

Kate turned. "How long have you been there?"

Annabeth walked over, and hugged Kate fiercely.

"A while, then." Kate surmised.

She was gone.

Clint looked around frantically. Kate had promised to tell him everything, so she couldn't have left of her own accord.

He opened her door, to find an empty bed… well, empty except for the note explaining her departure.

He swore loudly. She'd run away. He ran his hands through his hair, muttering. "Dammit, Kate. This changes…"

He paused. Nothing, actually. He had the lead—Grills and the LARPers—and this way, he was sure that when he confronted the boss of the Tracksuits, Kate wouldn't do anything reckless, like try to rescue him.

And was it any true surprise that she'd run? Confronting whatever had scarred her like that would be painful and terrifying, and she didn't know or trust him very well.

He was stung that she'd lied to him—or at least changed her mind about telling him the truth—but that didn't really matter in the long run. He'd get the suit from the LARPers, smooth things over with the Tracksuits, and call it a day.

He shouldered his backpack, and left the apartment.

A crowd of people in leather armor and swords dominated Central Park. Some were lightly swinging wooden staffs at one another, making loud spell casting noises with their mouths, like kids with Hot Wheels.

Whenever one was hit, they'd gasp melodramatically, raising their arm to the sky, before collapsing on the snow.

Behind a desk with a large purple tent, a bored woman with blonde pigtails and a Viking helmet glanced up at Clint with green eyes. "Hey. No looky-loos."

Clint wasn't really sure what to say.

Someone elbowed him. "First time?"

Clint turned.

A teenager with unkempt blond hair, blue eyes, and a lean, athletic build stood next to him. He had a lazy, almost flirty smile that oozed confidence, immediately reminding him of Kate. He was wearing an orange t-shirt and a leather chest plate over it. He had a gold sword hanging from his belt, which he looked unusually used to wearing.

He said, "Hiya. I'm Will Solace. Is this your first time LARPing?"

"Um, something like that." Clint said.

A boy with olive skin and black hair, with dark, sunken eyes grumbled next to Will. He wore jeans and a black bomber jacket over a shirt with a white skull on it. And like Will, he had a sword strapped to his thigh, though his was inky black, and much shorter.

He muttered, "I don't know how you talked me into this one. I've already seen what armored people with swords in Manhattan look like, Will."

Will's eyes widened, and he cleared his throat loudly. "Hey! Meet our very cool, very mortal friend who's standing in earshot!"

The boy looked up at Clint. His dark eyes glittered, as he took in his form. Clint felt a little stupid, but he found himself uncomfortable under the kid's gaze, even though he couldn't be a day over 15.

He grunted, seemingly unimpressed. "Why are you here? Isn't being an Avenger enough for adventure?"

Will made a strangled noise in his throat, and pushed him behind him, smiling at Clint apologetically. "Sorry. My boyfriend's manners need some work."

The boy sputtered, "Boyfriend? I mean, we can't say something like—"

"What? Your significant other?" Will chuckled. "Come on. I'm your booooooyfriend." He sang the last word.

He muttered, "Significant annoyance, in this case."

Will draped an arm over him, who didn't protest, instead leaning into the embrace. "This is Nico di Angelo, the Boyfriend of Darkness."

Nico grunted in greeting.

"So, Mr. Hawkeye, to rephrase my boyfriend's rudeness into a polite question, what brings you to this session?" Will asked.

Clint hesitated, then pointed to the man wearing the Ronin suit. "I need to talk to him. He kinda stole my suit."

Will nodded sagely. "Mmm. Conflicts over ownership of awesome stuff. I feel that. Here, come with me. I'm kinda a big deal around here."

"Only because everyone has a crush on you." Nico murmured under his breath.

Will smiled, but didn't deny it. "Aw, is Mr. Dark Lord getting jealous? Don't worry, I only have eyes for you." Will fluttered his lashes.

Nico blushed, dusting his pale skin with pink.

Will walked over to the woman in the helmet, who brightened when she saw him. "Will! How are you? Come to save the land from the latest Dark Lord?"

"No, I've come to register him instead. Oh, and a hired follower." He said. He pointed at Clint. "He's the mercenary, just for this session."

The woman nodded, and looked to Clint. "What's your Title of Honor?"

Clint blinked. "My what?"

Nico grumbled. "It's nerd for name."

Will beamed at him. "My lessons are paying off!"

Nico ignored him.

Clint said, "Um, just Clint Barton. That works."

The woman scowled. "We don't allow you to use your real name. Think of something."

Clint scoffed, and threw his hands up.

Will sized Clint up like a tailor.

Finally, he spoke. "Register his Title of Honor as… Clink Bow-Torn."

Clint and Nico sighed heavily, as the woman scribbled his name—sorry, Title of Honor—with an honest to God quill.

She looked up. "And what's your Title of Honor?" she asked Nico.

He was about to answer, but Will cut across him. "He's pre-registered as Travels-No-Shadows."

Nico stared at him. "Are you kidding me, Solace? Travels-No-Shadows?"

Will shrugged innocently. "Well, advice from your doctor hasn't been working, so maybe this will help you remember."

He grumbled. "Your Title of Honor should be, 'Glow-In-The-Dark Idiot.'"

"That violates the 20 character limit, Travels-No-Shadows." Will begun to lead them away from the desk. 

He shuddered. "Don't call me that. It's even worse than Death Boy."

Will ignored him, and turned around towards Clint, still backpedaling towards the guy in the Ronin suit. "So, beginners only get one free hit. If you get hit in the torso, it's fatal."

"I'll keep that in mind." He said.

Will drew his sword, casually swinging it around. "Any weapons on you, Clink?"

"Clink? I thought you were joking about that." He said.

"I never joke about Live Action Role Play." Will said solemnly. "We all call each other by our Titles of Honor. We take it very seriously around here. My name, by the way, is Solace of Astoria. Praise the sun!"

The reference flew over Clint's head. "Okay… wait, I thought you couldn't use your name."

"You can incorporate it." Will said. "But not just straight up use your name."

Nico mumbled, "Next, he'll very subtly segue into bragging about his sword."

Will grinned from ear-to-ear. "Why, thanks for asking, Travels-No-Shadows! Yes indeedy, my sword is very unique. Forged out of, ah, enchanted gold—" he winked at Nico like they were sharing a private joke, though Nico just rolled his eyes—"this specimen is a model 1816 French artillery short sword!"

"Or as normal people call it," Nico muttered, "A sword."

Will tried to elbow Nico, who ducked under it and poked him in the ribs.

Finally, after much bickering, they arrived before Grills.

He charged to attack, before he stopped. "Wait, aren't you Hawkeye?"

Clint nodded and groaned. "I'm not trying to cause a scene here, all right? Out of respect to whatever the hell this is, but I'm plumb out of patience. You got two choices. I could take this pretend-sword and you pretend to die and I take that suit, or I'm gonna real punch you and you're gonna real fall down and I'm gonna take that suit."

He seemed to think for a moment. "No! Here, how about we duel for it! Let me kill you, and—"

Nico sighed, and walked around Grills while he was speaking. He tapped him lightly with the flat of a wooden blade that had been lying on the ground.

Grills turned. "Seriously, little man? That was gonna be, like, my moment."

Nico shrugged. "Oh, well."

Will shook his head. "No worries, Grills. I'm a Blessed-rank healer, so I can resurrect you. Just give Mr. Hawkeye his suit, and you'll be back in the fight."

He grumbled, but took it off, clad in a white t-shirt and black basketball shorts. "Finally got a great costume, and an actual Avenger comes to get it. Just my luck, man…"

Nevertheless, he handed Clint the suit.

Will clapped his hands dramatically, before rubbing them together like Mr. Miyagi, beginning the ritual to bring Grills back from the dead.

Nico grumbled, "Thought this was my job."

Will shushed him, as Clint left.

He finally had the suit. Now, it was time to put an end to this mess.

Notes:Chapter title derived from Run Run Rudolph, written by Johnny Marks and Marvin Brodie in 1958.

Chapter 9: I'll Be Home for Dinner and DuelsNotes:Another chapter! I hope you enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter TextChapter Nine: I'll Be Home for Dinner and Duels

"Look, Kate, if you ever need us, Iris Message us. Seriously. At any time. We'll be there." Percy told her.

Annabeth nodded. "Think of an excuse to get Clint out of there if you need to Iris Message. Here, just say it's about 'girl problems'. That always scares guys off real quick."

Percy visibly cringed, but nodded. "Um, yeah. Whatever works, I guess."

Annabeth smirked. "Case in point." She chuckled. "We love you, Kate. Okay? Don't be afraid to reach out."

Percy nodded. "Yeah. What she said."

Kate laughed. "Thank you. Both of you. Really. But I ought to head home. I'll tell Mom that I spent the night with friends. Which isn't technically a lie, come to think of it."

Annabeth nodded, though her eyes were tight.

Kate's smile turned to a more serious expression. "And I'll look into telling Mom everything. Just… slowly. I don't wanna overwhelm her… or me."

Annabeth began, "I'm not trying to force you into anything—"

Kate waved her hands. "No, no. You're not—it's just not right for me to lie to someone I love. Especially about something as major as this, and for so long." She took a breath, and shrugged on a ski jacket. "I'm going to head home."

Percy grinned. "Okay. Here, hold on—" he fished a celestial bronze knife out of his jacket. "A new dagger for you. An early Christmas present." 

Kate gasped. The blade was newly polished, exactly 12 inches, with a hard leather sheath and a sturdy cross guard. "Percy! Wow, it's amazing! Gods, my gift doesn't arrive until Christmas day…"

Percy said, "Here, watch…" He flipped a teeny switch under the right part of the hilt, and the blade melted into a small compass with a button on the top. "Press it, and it'll go back into dagger form." 

Kate was speechless.

"I had to work with Annabeth and essentially the entire Hephaestus cabin to get the enchantment right—it was ridiculously difficult—but it was worth it. I mean, you're my best friend, Kate."

She misted up, and hugged him tightly.

Percy smiled, and hugged her back.

Annabeth cried, "Oh, you kids!" and turned it into a group hug.

Kate laughed, and leaned her head into Annabeth's blonde curls and Percy's wild black hair.

She basked in the warmth of her family.

Kate stood in front of her Mom's penthouse door, fist raised to knock.

She hesitated, and took a steadying breath.

Then, without her knocking, the door opened, revealing Eleanor Bishop in all of her terrible glory. 

Kate, who had stared down monsters and Titans and goddesses, wilted under the glare of her very angry mother. "Uh… hi?"

Eleanor stepped aside, and wordlessly ordered her to come inside.

Head low, Kate walked in. "I'm sorry. I know. Before you say it—"

"Katy." Jack tittered disapprovingly.

She snapped her head up. "Jack." She paused. "Sorry for your loss. I, um, saw it on the news."

"Thank you, Kate. That's very sweet of you. He was very dear to me." He said.

Kate's glare softened slightly. "Must've come as quite a shock."

"It did." He exhaled. "It did, indeed."

"You two were probably really close." Kate ventured, gauging his reaction.

"Well, we had a special relationship." He sighed. "I just can't believe he's gone."

"Mmm."

"Kate, what are you wearing?" Eleanor asked.

She looked down self-consciously at her ski jacket. "Oh, this, it's, um… a friend's. Just borrowing it."

She shrugged it off, and tugged at the thin purple long-sleeved shirt. She realized she'd tugged on it so much it draped over one shoulder. 

She scowled. "What's this I hear about a fire in your apartment last night?"

Kate rubbed the back of her neck. "I can explain. Can we talk?" Then, remembering her present company, her eyes drifted towards Jack. "Withoutthe interloper?"

"Please." Eleanor rolled her eyes.

Jack raised a hand. "No, no, it makes perfect sense that she would be hostile. She likely feels displaced by me, and she's testing our new dynamic. She both desires my approval, yet wants to set firm boundaries." He explained smugly.

Kate narrowed her eyes and put a hand underneath her chin. "Yes, Professor Duquesne. Do go on."

His eyes flashed, and she smiled at him mockingly. He continued, "Kate feels threatened by me, and you know what? I can understand why." He turned towards her. "I bought a book. About being a stepdad."

She exhaled. "Wow. I think you ought to return that book, Jack, because someone ripped you off. If you think I'm looking for any kind of validation from you, then you're even dumber than you look, which is saying something."

"Kate!" Eleanor snapped.

"No, Mom! Seriously! Explain it to me! Why are you humoring this jerk-off?" She demanded.

"KATE!" She bellowed. "That's enough! You don't have to like Jack, but at least be civil."

She scowled. "Fine."

Eleanor glared at her. "Jack is cooking lunch today. Maybe we can see some common courtesy during the meal?" 

Kate crossed her arms, glowering at Jack. "Sure."

Several hours later, Kate was wiping her mouth. "That was delicious, Jack."

Eleanor nodded, eyeing Kate.

He smiled. "I'm so glad you liked it. The secret to a good risotto is to agitate it. Just enough. And then it's just down to patience and attention."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "You cook, you're attentive, you're wealthy. You're almost too good to be true."

He chuckled. "I assure you, I am not."

"Mmm." She glanced at the crossed celestial bronze swords on the wall that had triggered a flashback two nights before. "It seems you're quite the sword aficionado, Jack. Tell me, wherever did you get those blades?"

His eyes glittered. "Oh, I have found that such weapons simply… get the job done better than others. Wouldn't you agree? You would know, after all."

Kate leaned forward. "I would. I've faced many fencing opponents, Jack. More than you could imagine. In fact, I won a… state championship, shall we say. Twice."

He nodded. "Mmm. And how many times have you faced me?"

She laughed. "I can't say I've had the pleasure of beating you, no. I've found that my fencing skills make me very aware when someone's trying to stab you in the back."

Eleanor glanced between Kate and Jack, each glaring at one another challengingly, half-risen from their seats.

She cleared her throat. "Okay, I think you've both proven that you know what swords are. Can we move on now?"

Jack didn't look at her. "Oh, but my dear, I think this common interest is very fertile ground for bonding."

Kate wrinkled her nose at the word choice, but didn't waver. "That's exactly what I was thinking. Bonding. Let's break out these bad boys."

Eleanor shot Kate a look. "Please, let's not, okay? We've had enough drama this week."

Fire blazed in Kate's eyes.

Jack blinked. "Yeah. You know, perhaps your mother is right."

Kate lifted her head, smug. "Oh, come on! Don't chicken out now. You're supposed to do better than your predecessors. Wiser, more dangerous and all that. You're better than old Dirt-Face and Luke, aren't you?"

Jack seemed startled, and glanced at her mother, who seemed mystified by the turn the conversation had taken.

Kate bared her teeth at Jack. "Eyes on me."

His eyes snapped to attention.

Kate snarled, "Prove that you're worthy to follow them. You want revenge; is that it? Or maybe you just wanna fight. I don't care. Prove it. Prove it, Jack."

His face was taut. "Let's go."

Clad in their fencing gear, Jack and Kate bowed to each other stiffly. 

"Be careful, honey." Eleanor said.

Kate nodded, eyes locked on Jack. "When am I not careful?"

Eleanor glanced back at Kate. "I was talking to Jack."

Kate was stung. Sure, she didn't need to be told to be careful, but…

Jack laughed, and she remembered that the fight was going on.

Kate lunged.

And won.

Jack chuckled at the sword tapping his armored chest. "Wow, you are good."

Kate scowled beneath the black mask. "Don't let me win, Jack."

"I wouldn't." He smirked under his own mask. "Go again?"

She nodded, and the two stood apart. Kate attacked, and Jack lowered his blade, turning towards the blow, allowing her to win.

"Stop letting me win." she spat.

"I'm not. Honest. I mean, two-time… state champ, right?" he asked mischievously.

She scoffed, and grunted, jabbing again. Again, an anticlimactic victory.

She threw off the helmet, glaring daggers at Jack. He calmly took off his own helmet, not paying her any mind.

It was an impulse. Like the Call of the Void or something, purely an insane thought from the dredges of her subconscious. Probably ADHD impulsivity. She initially repressed it, before it occurred to her that it would force Jack's hand.

Kate casually dropped her sword… and reached a hand to the celestial bronze swords on the wall. Neither Jack nor Eleanor noticed.

Fast as light, employing all her reserves of skill, she lunged the blade towards Jack's face.

With a simple flick of his wrist, he parried the expert blow.

But he was still taken by surprise. Her sword lightly nicked the edge of his nose, creating a cut hardly more than a paper cut.

"Kate!" Eleanor gasped. "What is wrong with you?"

Kate felt triumph surge through her. "Look, Mom! He's bleeding!"

"Yes, I can see that!" She replied.

"But Mom, don't you see? This blade is celestial bronze! It can't cut mortals. Jack isn't human!" She said frantically.

Eleanor looked baffled. "Celestial bronze? What are you talking about?"

Kate was taken aback, before she realized.

Celestial bronze was one of the many things she hadn't told her mother about. She wasn't aware of anything other than that the Greek gods were real, and that Kate was a daughter of Apollo. That was it.

Kate wanted to kick herself. "Um—"

Jack sighed and shook his head, clicking his tongue. "To be fair, I did lie about my skill, and repeatedly downplay it." He conceded.

Oh, lovely. Now he was ingratiating himself to her, so she'd look like the bad guy. Great.

"She tried to stab you." Eleanor said slowly.

Kate scowled. "No, I knew he would parry. What I was trying to do was prove that he isn't hu—that he's lying, which I successfully did."

Jack looked between them. "I'm gonna go change." 

As soon as he was gone, Eleanor hissed, "I cannot believe you."

Kate threw her hands up. "Jack is hiding something, Mom." she ignored the intrusive thoughts of 'Hypocrisy!' yelling in her mind. "Can't you see that?"

Eleanor pursed her lips. "Kate, it's sweet that you're worried, but just remember I'm the mom. It's my job to protect you."

Kate stopped herself from laughing out loud. "No, it's mine. It's my job to protect me, and to protect you, Mom. It always has been. And it always will be. I'm not a ten year old kid anymore."

"You're not a hero either. Okay? I don't want you doing any more snooping. You could get really hurt, and we're not talking scrapes on the knee anymore, Kate." She said.

Kate looked down.

Here we go… she thought ruefully. "Mom, hold on. Slow down. I need to talk to you about something."

The abrupt shift in Kate's tone gave her pause. "Okay… what's going on?"

Kate licked her suddenly very dry lips. "Do you remember the… the, um, conversation today? With me and Jack?"

"Considering it was about three minutes ago, and you compared him to some guy named Luke, I'd say I remember it, yeah." Eleanor agreed.

"Well, look. I—" Kate began.

Eleanor sighed, and shook her head. "Look, Kate, everything will be okay. I get it. I do."

Kate paused.

Eleanor continued, "Okay? I get being scared at the uncertainty of what comes next in life, but we know what comes next for you. You'll graduate, and in the fall, you'll start working at Bishop Security."

She scowled. This again? "Mom, I don't want to do that. I'm majoring in—"

"Kate, just put one foot in front of the other, and in a few years, you'll look up, and I promise, you will be happy where you are. I promise." She told her. "Okay? Can we just put all this behind us?"

"I—" she bit her lip. She was very tempted to confine her past to, well, the past, but Percy and Annabeth were right. That wasn't fair to her mother, nor was it the healthy thing to do. Bottling up trauma wouldn't end well.

But now wasn't the right time.

Kate nodded reluctantly. "Fine."

Jack clapped his hands behind her. "Bravo."

Kate forced herself not to make a witty quip. 

Eleanor demanded, "Why don't you start putting this behind us by apologizing to Jack?"

Maybe I could start by kicking him in his soft spot, Kate thought. And making him sing soprano for a week.

Instead of indulging herself, she muttered, "Sorry."

"Would you like a drink, darling?" Eleanor asked. "Are you okay?"

Jack waved a hand dismissively. "I'm fine, I'm fine. It's not the first time somebody tried to take my head off."

Kate grunted. 

Eleanor chuckled, and left to mix up a drink for her—ugh—fiancé.

Jack slithered over, and murmured, "That's quite a nasty wound there, Kate. Whatever happened?"

She followed his gaze to her right collarbone.

A three inch long slash of sunken white snaked its way across her shoulder, unnaturally straight. Surrounding the gash was a perimeter of tight, puckered skin, shiny and tough. Her medical knowledge from her father told her it was called a contracture scar, from a burn.

It had been the second day of the Battle of Manhattan. She, the daughter of the sun god, was the natural fit to defeat the Titan of the Sun.

Hyperion.

She hadn't slept since before the battle began, and had bruised her dominant arm, badly.

Still, she needed to fight. And so, she did.

Hyperion was fast, and each blow had hit like a thunderclap. She whirled, dodged, rolled, anything to minimize the damage he wrought on her. She would slash when the opportunity presented itself, move quickly when it didn't.

She was doing pretty well, falling into a rhythm; side-stepping and slicing, side-stepping and slicing—

But then she was still for a split second longer than she should have. 

Hyperion had cackled—she still heard that laugh in her dreams some nights—and plunged his red-hot, flaming sword into her collarbone to the hilt.

The pain had nearly caused her to black out. She'd made a primal scream of agony as two feet of fiery metal sunk deep into her body from her shoulder, burning her muscles inside and melting her skin. 

Annabeth and Percy, who had been busy fighting monsters relatively close by, had yelled in rage and grief. They'd thought she was done for, as did she.

Still she'd forced herself to stay alive, mostly through sheer indignation. If she was going to die, it was going to be after she'd saved the world, not before, dammit!

So—and she still had absolutely no idea how—she'd transferred her sword to her left hand, and sliced Hyperion's throat while he was cackling in sadistic glee.

He'd let out a gargled gasp, golden ichor running down his front, and dripping onto her. Grover and the dryads handled the rest, turning him into a large maple tree, before throwing essentially every restorative spell they knew at Kate.

Only Will Solace's masterful healing powers had saved her life. She still felt in debt to her half-brother, and she suspected she always would.

Still, the consequences had been severe. Her right shoulder was always stiffer than her left, and she noticed it was significantly weaker. So, she'd trained herself to use her left hand equally well (which had sucked balls), becoming ambidextrous.

Kate blinked, returning to herself.

Thankfully, judging by Jack's face, she hadn't been silent for an awkwardly long time. 

She wasn't about to tell him the very personal, very traumatic story of her wound, so she simply lied, "I fell."

He aahed. "Well, that must have been quite a fall."

She said nothing.

His dark eyes glinted with malice. "I would hate for you to ever fall like that again." He leaned in, an inch from Kate's ear, and whispered, "Because I have no doubt, if you do any more snooping, you will. And you might very well find your mother tumbling alongside you."

Kate went very still. "Are you threatening me?"

"No." He bared his teeth like an animal. "I'm threatening you… and the only family you have left, Katherine Heinberg Bishop… Hero of Olympus."

Notes:Chapter title derived from I'll Be Home for Christmas, written by Kim Gannon and Walter Kent in 1943.

Chapter 10: Here Comes the ProphecyNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextChapter Ten: Here Comes the Prophecy

Kate's heart was pounding.

Jack knows, she realized. He knows everything.

She'd suspected, of course—the celestial bronze swords on the wall weren't exactly subtle—and the cut on his nose at least vindicated that he wasn't who he said he was, but it was something else to hear him sneer her title like a curse, to hear him threaten her mom.

Jack hadn't moved. "Yes, I know all about you.Gaea's bounties were quite descriptive, though they may be defunct now. And you're very correct that I'm following in the footsteps of the Titans…" he hissed, "My kinsmen."

Her eyes went wide. "You… you're a Titan?"

He laughed shortly. "Indeed. You killed my uncle, met my brother, and yet you didn't see that?" He chuckled. "You are blind, little half-blood."

Kate stammered, "But… but you were bleeding red!"

"The Mist is easy for me to manipulate, considering." He smirked. "Allow me to make things clearer for you. Your mother is an unknowing hostage. She is pathetically ignorant of the world as it really is, which made it very easy to deceive her." He smiled. "I have you to thank for that. She has no idea who I am, who you are, or what either of us are capable of. You will not tell her anything about the gods, about monsters. And you will abandon this little quest of yours—"

Her head snapped up at the word, and Jack continued, "—or I will deliver your mother's head to my… patron. Do you understand?"

Kate nodded mutely.

"Good. Now, smile, Kate. Your mother is coming." He laughed cruelly, which turned into a hearty chuckle as Eleanor walked in with the drink.

Jack said, "Ah, Kate. Your jokes continue to delight." He pretended to notice Eleanor's arrival. "Ah! My love. It seems you have come bearing gifts."

He took the drink, and Eleanor reached his head down to kiss him on the cheek.

Kate felt like the walls of the room were closing in on her. Her world had been turned inside out—a Titan had infiltrated her life, her mother was captive, and a new threat was rising. She felt sick to her stomach, her legs wobbly and her head throbbing.

"I—I need to go." she stuttered.

Eleanor tilted her head. "Kate. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. No, I'm fine. I, uh, just remembered what time it is." Kate managed, throwing on her ski jacket and walking backwards to the door.

Eleanor said, "If it's for work, I'm your boss. I can get you out of it. What's going on?" She sounded worried.

"Uh, nothing. Everything's fine. I'm gonna call you later." She said.

"Uh, okay. Love you!" Eleanor called, just as Kate closed the door behind her.

She leaned back against the door, and breathed, "I love you too, Mom… so much."

Kate stared down at the contact page, hand trembling.

She'd sworn to herself never to call this number—which she supposed wasn't very nice, it wasn't her fault after all—but Jack's words had made clear the truth she refused to accept:

This was a quest.

She forced herself to hit the call button, and the ringing began.

After the longest seven seconds in history, Rachel Elizabeth Dare picked up the phone. "Hello?"

Kate took a shuddering breath. "Rachel. Can we—we need to talk."

Rachel said, "Okay… are you alright, Kate? What's happened?"

"Um, a lot. Are you in the city? Can we meet? Um, now?"

A beat of silence. "Yeah, okay. I'm at the New York Public Library. How soon can you get here?" Rachel asked.

"Ten minutes. I'm on my way." Kate hung up, left the building, and hailed a cab.

When the cabbie arrived at the library, she threw a twenty at him and left, walking briskly towards the library.

She slowed when she saw two teenagers heading towards her. One had black hair and pale skin, the other had blond hair and tanned skin.

Kate sighed. "Rachel call you guys?"

Will nodded. "Yeah. She's worried about you."

Nico said, "Be grateful she called us. She almost called Percy and Annabeth down here instead."

Kate groaned. "Gods, I would have been here for hours."

Will nodded. "Yep. Rachel's waiting for us in the building. Shall we?"

Kate nodded reluctantly.

They walked in the voluminous room, quiet with massive rows of tables. Rachel sat them in a secluded corner of the library, with no people around.

Nico looked nervous. "Can we not spend more time here than we have to? This place draws spirits of the dead like a moth to flame."

Rachel snickered, thinking he was joking. Then, at his serious expression, she stopped. "Oh, damn, really? I guess Ghostbusters wasn't that far off the mark…"

Nico shook his head. "It was directed by a legacy of Bacchus. He added a warning for demigods against coming here."

The news didn't help Kate's mood. Her eyes darted around the library, imagining translucent figures darting through the shelves, shadows casting themselves on the walls.

Rachel exhaled. "Well, look. What's going on, Kate?"

She rubbed her eyes, and told them everything that had happened before Jack's ultimatum.

Will raised his palm out. "Hold on. You've been hanging around Hawkeye?"

"Yeah." Kate said. "Why?"

"We ran into him today at the LARP session." Nico supplied.

"I—" Kate was baffled, trying to imagine Clint Barton LARPing. "That raises so many questions. And doesn't the session end at midnight? It's only early afternoon."

Will shrugged. "Rachel said you needed us, so we came."

Kate was touched. "Wow… really? I mean, I'm sorry I pulled you from it."

Nico leaned forward. "Kate." 

She faced him. His eyes were intent. "This isn't something you plan for. You don't set the timetable of trauma, okay? It does. It comes rushing back at random moments, regardless of how you've planned out your life."

Kate was taken slightly aback by the intensity of his words. Nico seemed to realize that, and his gaze softened. "Look, I just—I've been dealing with this too. I fell to Tartarus, all on my own, I lost my sister, and I went to—" he coughed, "really dark places. And seeing you there, where I was…" he closed his eyes. "I can help."

Will clasped Nico's hand, rubbing the back of it. Nico smiled sadly, and squeezed it back.

Kate said, "Thank you, Nico. Really."

He nodded.

Kate continued, "But there's something else. About Jack."

They waited. 

"He's a Titan."

Silence.

Rachel breathed, "Are you serious?"

Will leaned forward. "Which one?"

Kate shook her head miserably. "I don't know. He mentioned that I killed his uncle and met his brother, but there are twelve first generation Titans, and they all probably have a million kids. But… he also mentioned a patron."

Nico went very still. "Gaea?"

"I don't think so. He mentioned that he got a bunch of information about me from her bounties, but he also said those bounties were defunct. I think he serves someone else." Kate murmured.

Nico leaned back, while Will exhaled. "So, there's someone new."

"Looks like it." She agreed. "But that brings me to the reason I've come."

"Me." Rachel said. "Or, at least, the Oracle in me."

"Yeah." Kate rubbed her neck. "Jack said that I needed to abandon this… quest, he called it. And I didn't realize until he said it, but he's right about one thing. While I can't abandon this, it is a quest. And quests need prophecies. So…"

Kate locked her blue eyes on Rachel's green ones. "I ask the Oracle of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python… what is my fate?"

Rachel closed her eyes. Her mouth propped itself open, ethereal green smoke billowing out. It swirled around them, enveloping the three demigods with the smell of snakes.

Rachel's eyes snapped open, glowing like emeralds. 

"The Far Reaching One's rise you shall oppose.

Assisted by the assassin who knows,

And the avenging archer of dark past.

Against both monster and man now amassed,

Friends made enemies, enemies made friends,

On acceptance of truth, success depends."

Rachel inhaled all the smoke, and started coughing, her eyes returning to normal. 

Nico and Will glanced at each other nervously. "That was…"

"My prophecy." Kate mumbled. "I've been issued a prophecy."

Nico frowned. "But what does it mean? Who is the Far Reaching One?"

Rachel looked mystified. "I have no idea. I never remember saying my prophecies."

"Friends made enemies, enemies made friends." Will recited, shaking his head. "As if we needed more treachery."

Nico tilted his head. "And what's this about accepting truth? Who has to accept it? What truth?"

Kate put her hands on her head. "Look, there's no point losing our heads over this one. We all know how trying to figure out prophecies go. But the avenging archer mentioned in it can only be one person."

Rachel bit her lip. "Hawkeye."

Kate nodded.

Nico raised his hands. "Hold on a second. Are you saying what I think you are?"

Kate sighed. "Yes. I need to tell Clint about everything. The gods, monsters… everything. And then…" she looked up. "And then I'm going to go on a quest with an Avenger."

Rachel, Will, and Nico all stood outside with her as she tried to call Clint. It was dangerous, of course, a demigod using a cell phone. Kate had no doubt every monster in Manhattan was converging on her, which was why she was trying to get into contact with Clint as soon as possible. 

But for some reason, he wasn't picking up.

Will shivered. "I wish the gods could temperature-control the world the way they do at camp."

Nico muttered, "Wimp."

"Death Boy." Will retorted.

"Oh, yeah? Well—" Nico began.

Kate abandoned her attempts to call Clint for a second to say, "Guys, I'm glad you two finally pulled your heads out of your asses and got together, but if you could please shut up while I risk my life calling an Avenger, I'd appreciate it. That goes doubly so for you, little brother."

Will opened his mouth, indignant. "Whoa, why are you singling me out on this?"

"Because you talk enough for two people," Kate teased, before Clint finally picked up… or so she thought.

In a very irritated Russian accent, a man said impatiently, "I'm sorry, Clint Barton can't take your call right now. Will you please take a hint and stop calling? Is quite annoying." He hung up.

Kate was flabbergasted, before coming back to her senses. She immediately looked at the Find My iPhone page, and found Clint was in an abandoned warehouse.

"Oh, gods." She breathed.

Rachel looked up. "What's happened?"

"Hawkeye the Avenger has been kidnapped." She replied, showing them the screen.

Nico cursed in Ancient Greek, while Will sighed heavily. "Lovely. Now what?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Rachel asked.

Will, Kate, and Nico all stared at her.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "We go rescue him. Duh."

So, they all headed to that gods-damned warehouse.

Kate stood on the ceiling, and looked down through the window. Some guy in a red tracksuit was interrogating Clint, who seemed bored out of his mind.

Kate scoffed. "Look at him. I'm organizing this big huge escape, and he has the audacity not even to be engaged with his role as the archer in distress. Seriously!"

Rachel laughed beside her. "Well, you can chew him out once he's been rescued. Yeah?"

Kate grunted.

Rachel carefully opened the window on the ceiling, silently. She tied a rope to a post on the ceiling, and wrapped it around her own and Kate's waists. She held up three fingers, and begun counting down. When she reached zero, Kate leapt down. Rachel followed.

But something was wrong. The rope squeaked awkwardly, and went too taut and thin. Kate only had time to think, Oh shit, right before it snapped. Kate and Rachel went sprawling on the ground before a gang of ruthless thugs.

Something—no, a group of somethings started snarling and cackling.

Scratch that—Kate and Rachel went sprawling on the ground before a gang of ruthless thugs and a bunch of bloodthirsty monsters.

Oh, joy, Kate thought.

Notes:Chapter title derived from Here Comes Santa Claus, written by Gene Autry in 1947.

Chapter 11: Wreck the Halls with Bows and VolleysNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextChapter Eleven: Wreck the Halls with Bows and Volleys

Clint groaned, as someone pulled the bag off of his head.

"Wakey-wakey, bro." he said, his voice laden with a Russian accent.

Clint looked around, taking in the warehouse. It had green light filtering from the ceiling, and tattered white tarp fluttered from the ceiling.

"Nice place you got here." Clint grunted. He was tied to… a carnival ride? A tiny unicorn, the type people would put a quarter in and it would go back and forth.

A man with a goatee frowned. "Hey. You kid. I know you kid. So, don't kid, okay? Because it was getting very hard to find place. Now, all the warehouses are being converted into lofts, so how can I get something better?"

The guy next to him nodded. He had pale blond hair, and sky blue eyes in a green tracksuit. "Exactly, bro. You know how hard it is to find a good warehouse for kidnapping."

Goatee Man nodded. "Thank you, bro."

Clint squinted at the figures behind the men. They were mostly enveloped in shadow, and every time he looked at them, he felt extraordinarily uncomfortable, his mind screaming at him to look away, which he always did before he made out their silhouettes.

It seemed crazy, but it was almost like their shadows weren't… human. He thought he was catching glimpses of inhumanly tall proportions, or claws glinting in the sparse light, or even lightning flickering in the shadows.

Blond Dude cleared his throat. "We have brought you here for interrogation. Where is Kate Bishop?"

"Who? I've never heard of a Kate Bishop." He lied.

"Kate Bishop. Guy in costume? Kicked our asses?" Blond Dude prompted.

Goatee Man spoke up, "She did not kick our asses. She, um—" he thought for a moment, which looked like a real struggle for him. "It was draw. She carefully laid down our asses. Not kicked them."

Blond Dude nodded vigorously. "Yes. That is right. Now, where is Kate Bishop?"

Clint exhaled heavily. "Wow. This is like listening to furniture. Um, is your boss nearby? I've come to talk to them."

Goatee Man looked amused. "Come here to talk to our boss? You are our hostage, you understand? We kidnapped you, get it? Now, where is Kate Bishop?"

"I've never met her. I have no idea." Clint told him.

Goatee Man was beginning to get angry. "Come on! Where is Kate Bishop? She hurt one of our own. We'd like to repay the favor."

Clint recalled the cell phone footage. "Well—"

Then, everyone trained their eyes up at the sound of a creaking rope. Kate and a tall, skinny red haired girl were trying to sneak in from the ceiling.

Then, the rope snapped, and the two girls collapsed on the ground in a heap. 

Animalistic growling and snarls emanated from the shrouded figures in the back, who Clint still couldn't really see.

Groaning, Kate and the girl extricated themselves and looked around at the Tracksuits.

Kate coughed awkwardly. "Um… hi?"

Guns were cocked and aimed at the two. Kate and the redhead raised their hands slowly.

Maya Lopez remembered that night, cold and dark.

She remembered the black-hooded figure leaping up, and plunging the celestial bronze and mortal steel blade into her father's belly, and watched him leap out of the window.

Maya had let out a strangled gasp, and sprinted to her father.

She'd felt the magical aura of the wound, the cursed nature of the blade, and knew immediately that her father was going to die. 

A finger pointing at himself, his arms making an X over his chest, and a point towards her. I… love… you, he signed.

She shook her head, crying silently. He was gone before she could do anything more… like say goodbye.

Stunned, she hugged his body, her tears mingling with his blood.

A little while later, once she'd torn herself from his body, her eyes were blinded by a sudden flash of light. Though Maya could not hear it, the sound of a dog howl pierced the night.

When the light died, she looked, and saw a goddess.

She was deathly pale, with inky black hair. She almost looked like a dead body, prettied up for a funeral, which gave Maya a chill. The goddess was flanked on either side by two great black dogs.

In perfect, fluid American Sign Language, the goddess signed, My daughter. Come. We have much to discuss if we are to avenge your father and begin my rise to power.

Kate was in a spot of trouble, that much was obvious to her.

Her rescue had been a, well, a laughable failure, and now she was tied to a pegasus ride next to Rachel and Clint. 

The only good thing was that Nico and Will had stayed back when the rescue attempt went south. They were somewhere close by, planning to help them out… somehow… probably.

A monster chuckled as Kate, Clint, and Rachel sat in the rides, moving back and forth.

It was a cyclops, eight feet tall, with rippling muscles and a single, bloodshot green eye. He clapped his massive hands, and called, "Enrique! More quarters."

A man with blond hair and blue eyes nodded, and handed him some. He didn't seem to realize or care that he was talking to a cyclops. "They should smile more. This is fun for us too, you know. Right, Huge Hands Hans?"

The cyclops laughed. "Yes! Big strong Kate Bishop, Hero of Olympus."

The name caused a round of hissing from the monsters. "Olympus…"

The cyclops bared its yellow teeth at her, each the size of dinner plates. "We have called the mistress, Kate Bishop! She knows you are here. She is the one, the only—"

A storm spirit next to Hans the Cyclops elbowed him, sending a bolt of blue lightning into his side. "Silence, whelp! The mistress doesn't want her identity revealed yet!"

The cyclops looked confused. "Why not?"

"Dramatic effect!" It hissed. "I don't know! But she doesn't want us to say, so we won't!"

Clint's eyes were wide, and Kate realized he probably had no idea what was going on. She caught his eye, and said, "I'll explain it all later, okay?"

He murmured, "Isn't that what you said last time?"

Kate winced. "Okay, I deserved that. But look, um, in my defense… I didn't want to tell you."

He rolled his eyes, still wide. "No shit."

She looked down. "Look, things have changed. I got—" she groaned. "A prophecy. You're in it, which means we gotta quest together, and I have a policy of complete transparency with quests. Experience taught me that one. So as soon as we're in a relatively safe place, I'll go through everything with you. Capice?"

He stared. "I only understood about a quarter of that, but sure. Capice."

She grunted under her breath. "Once you understand the rest? It doesn't get any easier." But I'm not bitter. No, of course not.

A blond dude started screaming into a phone nearby, and the guys in the gang angrily yelled at him to calm down. After a moment, he approached Rachel's ride, mumbling angrily.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"

He looked up, then seemed to deliberate for a moment. Then, he spoke, "So, I buy Imagine Dragons tickets for my girlfriend, as, like, early Christmas gift, right?"

She listened. "Mmm. That's so sweet."

He gestured to Rachel like, You get it. "Good, sweet. Then we had fight. You know what she said? She said that the tickets were gift, so she wants to bring her sister."

Kate interjected. "I mean, look on the bright side. You don't have to go see Imagine Dragons."

He looked at her. "I love Imagine Dragons. Uh, she doesn't even like them, you know. She did this on purpose to hurt me."

Kate said, "Look, I think you both owe apologies. Tell her she hurt your feelings, but apologize for pretending that that was a gift for her."

He snapped his fingers looking around frantically. "Okay, wait, I need a pen. Just… Okay, okay? See you." 

He left, and Kate beamed at Rachel. "Hmm. See? A little trust, a little communicating, a little listening…"

She deadpanned, "Yes, because the intricacies of how to manage a romantic relationship is very pertinent information for me."

Kate stuck her tongue out at her, and snickered. "Well, I'm like a diet Aphrodite kid, so at least someone's getting my amazing dating advice."

Rachel laughed, and Clint shook his head, mystified.

Then, a familiar woman walked through the horde of monsters to Kate.

They parted like the Red Sea, telekhines and Lastrygonians and and cyclopes moving away as she approached.

She had soft features, almond shaped eyes, light brown skin and dark eyes. Her black hair was tied back in a bun, and her face was scrunched up and serious. 

Maya reminded Kate of Reyna, except if she were pissed. Very.

At her side was a man with dark hair and tan skin, with a prominent forehead. 

The woman glared at Clint and started rapid fire signing at him.

Clint locked his eyes on her hands, but shook his head. "Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. Hard of hearing, not deaf."

Th woman scowled, and waved the man closer. She signed some more.

The man said, "She asked what you're doing here, Clint Barton."

He looked down. "Riding a unicorn." He glanced at Kate and Rachel. "Being confused."

The woman trained her black eyes on Kate, and Rachel. The man interpreted, "The host of the Oracle of Delphi. A mortal Avenger. You keep strange company, Kate."

Kate shrugged, glaring at Maya. "What can I say? I'm a strange person. At least I'm not a disgustingcoward."

Maya glowered, and signed, I had no interest in getting involved a war that was not my fight—

Kate choked, "Not your fight? Maya, the Titan War was the fight of all demigods! I could at least understand if you'd joined Luke, but you deserted in the middle of my quest! I emerged from the Labyrinth, wounded and tired, and then I'm told my girlfriend up and left without—" Kate swallowed the lump in her throat. "Without even saying goodbye."

Maya looked away, and raised her hands. I was fifteen. I was hearing from my friends that my home was about to be destroyed in an invasion. My girlfriend had delved into a quest that everyone agreed was suicide. Most of my siblings had left. I thought I was about to lose everything I loved. So, yes, I fled, rather than be lost too.

Kate shook her head, eyes bright. "No. You were afraid. Afraid of not being a part of your father's criminal life, afraid of our relationship, and afraid of doing something that mattered. You were a coward."

Maya didn't respond.

Clint cleared his throat. "Um, I take it you two know each other?"

Kate and Maya each glared at him. Maya began to sign, and the man translated, "The Ronin. Where are they?" 

Clint sighed, "Kate's not the Ronin. She put on the suit, doesn't know what it means."

Maya rolled her eyes, and the man scoffed. "Of course she's not the Ronin. She was in an apartment in Manhattan for almost the entire five years they were active, anyway. But she beat up a few of my guys and then came running when you were in trouble. Seems like she's got something to do with it. And just because she's not the Ronin doesn't mean that Ronin's not back."

"That's just a rumor." Clint said flatly.

Maya tilted her head. The man translated, "You seem very sure. And how do you know, anyway?"

"Because he's dead."

"Who killed him?"

"Natasha Romanoff." He said.

Maya frowned. "So. Ronin is dead, and the person who killed him is dead. That's convenient. How do you know this?"

"'Cause I was there."

She sneered, and signed, You're lying. The meaning was clear, even without the man interpreting.

Then, quick as lightning, Maya thrust her hands under Kate's throat, lifting her up.

Kate choked, as Maya's interpreter said, "Where is the Ronin?"

Maya's eyes were in a frenzy, her fingers flexing as Kate turned red.

She managed, "I—don't—know!", before Maya dropped her, leaving her wheezing and coughing.

Kate was very unnerved. She hadn't expected Maya to lash out like that, to see the drive for revenge overtake her like that. 

Her shock must have shown on her face, because Clint leaned in and mistook her surprise for fear. "Listen. Now's not the time to be scared. We're gonna get out of this. You go back to living your life, I'll go back to my family. You're gonna harness that over-confidence of yours, okay? This ridiculous over-confidence, you remember that one? Okay? So wait for my signal."

Kate nodded.

He whispered. "Okay. On my signal."

Then, he leapt up and ran off.

Kate was stunned. "Hey—what!? It'd be really nice to know how you did that, Clint!"

A huge number of monsters and thugs chased after him, leaving Rachel and Kate with the sign language interpreter.

Behind him, Nico and Will were snooping close. Kate cleared her throat to get the man's attention. "Um, hey! How'd you meet Maya?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Not really your business, is it?"

Kate smiled. "Oh, no. I was just distracting you."

Too late, he realized. He whirled, but Will was faster. He slammed a board on his head, knocking him out.

Nico darted forward, and drew his Stygian Iron blade, raising it to cleave through Kate's duct tape binds. 

"Um, what happens if you miss?" She asked. 

Nico paused. "Then my sword absorbs your life force and you die a very agonizing, slow death."

She nodded. "Cool. Just checking. Carry on."

Will grunted. "Nico, if you kill my big sister, I'm going to be very cross with you."

Nico thrust the blade down, and she was freed.

Kate flexed her wrists. "Okay. Let's go get Clint, and—"

Clint leapt down from above, and tossed her bow and a full quiver. "Come on! They smashed my hearing aid. Bring your friends, I guess."

Kate groaned. "We have to steal a car to fit five? Gods, I hope there's a minivan out there or something."

Nevertheless, Rachel, Nico, Will, Kate, and Clint all ran outside into the parking lot, and saw a red pickup truck that had a Confederate flag bumper sticker and truck nuts. Kate groaned loudly, but saw no other vehicle that could fit all of them.

Whatever, she thought. The bozo owns this thing deserves to have their truck stolen.

Clint was about to shatter the window when Rachel ran forward and stopped him. "Allow me." She pulled out a hair-clip from her red locks, and jimmied the lock open. The door swung out, and no windows needed to be broken.

He was about to ask where she learned how to do that, then seemed to think better of it. He said, "Hey, get over here, I need you to drive."

Kate nodded firmly. She'd learned how to drive after her second quest in the Sea of Monsters—even though she'd been underage—figuring it would be a useful skill.

She got behind the wheel and revved the engine, which roared to life. She tore away from the warehouse, and started driving off, onto a large bridge.

Clint opened the window, and aimed his bow, firing arrows at their pursers.

Kate looked through the rearview mirror. Three cars, each loaded with Tracksuits. Above them, storm spirits flew high, and pairs of telekhines, Laistrygonians, and cyclopes chased them, running beside the cars, keeping pace easily.

"Will!" Kate shouted. "My bow is in my lap. Grab it, and shoulder the quiver. Go for the storm spirits first; they'll be hardest to kill, and Clint won't be aiming at them on account of the Mist."

He nodded, and followed her instructions, cranking open the window.

"Nico! Try to summon some undead friends to fight the bigger monsters. Something that can keep up with the cars, too, like a hellhound."

He closed his eyes, and a spot of road beside them darkened. Nico whispered, "Serve me." A black hellhound, the size of a Sherman tank, emerged from the darkness and tackled the nearest Laistrygonian to the ground, ripping it to shreds with massive claws.

"Rachel!" She turned. "I need you to be my lookout. I need to focus on driving, so you need to update me about the fight. Warn me. Got it?"

She nodded. 

Kate took a steadying breath. "Okay. We can do this. We can do this."

As a swirling cyclone in the shape of a horse swooped down to attack, a celestial bronze arrow fired by Will tore through its cloudy snout. It dissipated into smoke and wind.

Nico's hellhound felled another monster, a cyclopes this time, and the others started to take notice. Still, they couldn't pin down the hellhound, which continued leaping to and fro.

Clint fired a bizarre arrow at Maya's car, and Kate smiled with a not-insignificant amount of satisfaction as it ground to a halt, the window smeared with a strange purple slime.

In other words, they were fending off the monsters, and the thugs. Everything was going alright. They could do this.

As though the Fates had heard her thoughts, thunder rumbled overhead. The storm spirit were making a last ditch attempt to kill them.

"Out!" Kate bellowed, and everyone threw the doors open and leapt out.

Except Clint, who was standing up, out of the window from the waist up.

Kate cursed, and yelled, "Sorry for this, Clint!" She shoved him outside, and he tumbled to the pavement.

She followed him, and let the car continue on. 

Clint whirled on her. "Why the hell did you—?!"

BOOOOOM!

The car exploded with a—no pun intended—deafening lightning strike that blew the bridge apart, sending concrete and debris sky-high. A massive section of the bridge was simply gone, revealing blue water below.

Cars fell into the gap, bridge cables snapping and groaning, as Kate yelled, "We need to get out of here!"

Nico grabbed Clint, and everyone ran away. Kate began directing them away from the ruined bridge, towards safety, the only safe place she could think of.

Towards Percy and Annabeth.

Notes:Chapter title derived from Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly, popularized by Thomas Oliphant in 1862.

Chapter 12: It's Beginning To Look a Lot Like Clint's MessNotes:So, you know when you're writing, and you intend for the story to go one way, but then it just goes, "No, we're doing this now." and you just kinda go, "Alright."?

No? Yes? Well, that's happened to me. This is Yelena/Kate now. Granted, it's pretty late onset—Yelena doesn't even introduce herself until Chapter 18—but that's how it is now.

And if it isn't obvious already by the chapter number turning from a ? to a 25, I've already finished this story. Heh, it's Christmas themed, and it ends on Chapter 25. Wasn't intentional, really. Also, I changed the summary, which I originally wrote when I had no idea what the plot of this or the show was going to be.

Anyway, enjoy this chapter

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter TextChapter Twelve: It's Beginning To Look a Lot Like Clint's Mess

"Kate, is that you? Is everything alright? What's going—?" Then, Sally Jackson took in the scene before her as she opened the door. Four tired, wounded, and wary demigods, along with one mortal and one Avenger in the same state. "Oh, my. Come in, please."

She opened the door, allowing them in.

Kate wheezed, "Thank you." and the five stumbled in.

Percy and Annabeth rose from the couch they'd been sitting on. She said, "We heard the explosion from way over here. What happened?"

Kate coughed. "Give me some nectar and ambrosia, so I can stop dying, then I'll talk."

Percy jumped up, and rummaged through some drawers, pulling out a bar of ambrosia. "The Ziploc bags are baby proofed, so Estelle doesn't get into them. Are you alright?"

Nico rubbed his eyes. "Well, we just escaped a cutthroat gang with a penchant for tracksuits, about a dozen assorted monsters, and accidentally blew up a historic bridge, so… yeah, I guess we're alright."

Will placed his hands over Nico's. "Hmmm… that hellhound took a lot out of you. I can feel it." Will shot Kate a look.

Kate threw her hands up. "It was life or death, Solace! Sorry if you don't like it, but it was either that or—"

Will raised his own hands. "Hey, Kate, chill. You don't need to jump down my throat. I get it was necessary."

She paused, and sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry, the fight just brought some unpleasant reminders. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Clint raised his hand like he were in class. "Excuse me, but I can't hear anything you guys are saying. What's going on?"

Kate rubbed her nose with her sleeve. "Oh. Right." She cleared her throat, and faced Clint, saying in a loud voice, "Can you give me what's left of your hearing aid?"

He handed it to Kate, who gave it to Annabeth. "I know it's a stretch, but is there any chance you can fix this? Using, like, your Athena mojo?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Athena mojo?"

"Yeah, yeah. Can you?"

Annabeth looked down at it, and shook her head. "Definitely not. I'm not a Hephaestus kid." Then, she looked up, the gears in her head turning.

Kate realized what she was thinking. "Oh, gods. Do we have to?"

Annabeth shrugged, barely suppressing a smile. "He's close, and he definitely has the skill to fix it. I'm pretty sure he's hanging out with Calypso in Central Park, showing her what gardens still exist."

Kate groaned dramatically. "Fine… go Iris Message him. Tell him to bring his dumb tool belt, assuming he doesn't sleep with the gods-damned thing anyway."

Annabeth laughed, and headed to another room to make the call. Clint glanced around at the teenagers munching on ambrosia and sipping nectar, and asked, "What the hell is going on? What's an Iris Message? Who's coming?"

Kate replied, "A lot is going on. I'll tell you what an Iris Message is as soon as your hearing aid is fixed. As for who's coming over…" She sighed. "The Bad Boy Supreme himself. Leo Valdez."

"What is up, my dudes and dudettes!?" Leo stood in the doorway, wearing tinted welding goggles like sunglasses, finger guns aimed at everyone.

At his side, Calypso sighed. "Leo, can we go in already?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah!" He slid to the left, leaning and raising jazz hands like a dance.

Calypso and Leo walked in, and Leo froze when he saw Clint. "Yo, is that Hawkeye?"

Kate nodded. "Yes, that's Hawkeye, blah blah blah, here's his broken hearing aid, please fix it and blah blah blah."

Annabeth snickered. "Channeling your inner Mr. D, Kate?"

Kate made a rude gesture, and Leo snorted, "Yeah, yeah. Lemme see."

She handed it to him, and he squinted at it. "Size ten battery, Oticon… pretty simple." He pulled out a small screwdriver, sat on the couch, and got to work.

Clint looked baffled. "Are you trusting this seventeen year old kid with my hearing aid that costs several thousand dollars?"

Leo laughed. "Yep. Say, you want me to make any improvements on this thing? Kinda simple tech, honestly. I could add a super-hearing setting, I could make it, like, a steampunk Iron Man helmet with the press of a button—"

"Just fix the hearing aid, Leo." Kate told him, wincing as she applied nectar to a gash on her arm.

"Fine, fine. You're no fun." He muttered.

He fiddled around with it, and a some time later, held it in the air. "Tada! The Super-Sized McSchizzle for the win, baby!" He strutted to Clint, and bowed deeply, holding the hearing aid in his hands like a knight offering their king a sword. "Your aid of hearing, Hawkeye."

Clint regarded it skeptically, but sighed and put it on, before his eyes widened.

Kate frowned. "Why is he reacting like that? Leo, did you Rickroll him or something?"

He snapped his fingers. "I totally should have done that! Oh, man. Missed opportunity. But no, I didn't give it any fancy bells and whistles, Katy-Girl. I did as you asked; one boring, functional hearing aid."

"Thanks, Leo. And don't call me Katy-Girl."

Clint rubbed his ear. "How in the hell… how did you fix it?"

Leo beamed. "It's a secret to everybody."

Kate sighed. "Unfortunately, it isn't going to be for much longer. Clint, maybe you should sit down."

He did, looking around the room.

Sally was holding Estelle, bouncing her absentmindedly in her arms, while Paul stood next to them, smiling affectionately at his wife and daughter. Nico and Will bickered quietly, holding hands and chowing down on ambrosia. Percy was making some sandwiches for everyone, while Annabeth course-corrected him. Rachel was unconsciously wrapping a gauze bandage around her hand and unwrapping it, as Pizza Dog nuzzled her leg. Leo was joking around with Calypso, who seemed unamused, but her eyes were twinkling. 

And Kate was sitting down in front of Clint, a serious look on her face.

"Clint, look, there's no easy way to say this. The Greek gods are real." She said.

He paused. "What?"

"It's true, Clint." Rachel had walked over, followed by Pizza Dog. "She's telling the truth."

"That's completely ridiculous. The gods don't exist."

Everyone stopped talking as if he'd belched loudly. Percy said, "Dude. They're very touchy, so watch yourself."

Clint smiled slightly, as if a joke were being played on him. "Are… are you serious? The… Greek gods are touchy? Really? Well, I guess Zeus and Hera and all them are idiots with fragile egos—!"

Kate slapped a hand over his mouth, as thunder boomed overhead. "Clint. That's not funny. Would you like to get us all vaporized?" she hissed.

Annabeth walked over. "Listen, Clint. Hawkeye. Whatever. Is it really so hard to believe? I mean, you fought Loki. You hang out with Thor. If the Norse gods are real, and aliens are real, why do you draw the line at the Greek gods?"

Rachel asked, "Why not someone give him a demonstration?" She mimicked using godly powers.

"Not everyone can see through the Mist like you and Sally can, Rachel." Paul said. He locked eyes with Clint. "Look, Clint. I've been right where you are. Trust me. I know how bonkers this is. But it's all true."

"Here. I can fix that." Will stood, and walked over to Clint. "Look, Clint, I'm the son of the god of healing. I can alter your mind so that you can see through the Mist. But it's only been done once before."

Annabeth nodded. "My cousin, Magnus. He healed Amir's mind, so he could see through the Glamour/Mist. I mean, you're both kids of gods of healing, so maybe it would work."

Clint raised an eyebrow. "I still don't believe any of this, but sure, I'll let Will do whatever he wants. I don't think it'll work, but okay." 

Will placed his hands on Clint's temples, and closed his eyes, concentrating. His hands begun to glow a soft gold, and Clint's eyes rolled back in his head.

After a moment, Will separated his hands from him, panting slightly. "There. It should be done."

Sally asked, "Should be?"

Will said, "Ah, well, if not, his mind is probably some kind of mush. He might live on for years, in a vegetative state."

Nico rolled his eyes.

Clint moaned.

Everyone leaned over too look at him.

Kate coughed. "Uh, Clint? You good?"

Leo bit his lip. "Will, I think you may have broken an Avenger."

Then, Clint opened his eyes, wide. "Those shadowy Tracksuits were monsters?!"

Kate looked confused, before Will spoke up, "Oh. I see. His ability to see through the Mist apparently applies retrospectively. So now—"

He gasped. "My third grade math teacher was a Gorgon!"

Percy nodded sagely. "Mmm. Math teacher secretly a monster? I've been there. Was it Beano or Euryale?"

Clint was stunned.

Kate said, "Hey, Leo? Could you do a demonstration? Summon a little fire?"

Clint gasped, "Summon a little—"

Leo grinned, and outstretched a hand. A ball of orange and red burst to life, curls of flame wrapping around his fingers and sparks floating into the air. 

Clint stared at it open-mouthed.

Sally cleared her throat. "Leo, dear, can you put that out before you set off the smoke alarm?"

He looked over at her. "Oh! Sure. Sorry, Mrs. Jackson." He closed his fist, and extinguished the flames.

Kate sighed. "So, Clint? You see? I was telling the truth. The Greek gods are real. And the monsters and everything."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Jesus. Er, can I even say that anymore?"

Paul huffed a laugh. "Go ahead, man. I've been doing it for years, with no repercussions."

"Um, okay. Sounds good." He mumbled.

Rachel clapped her hands. "Okay! So, who wants to tell him about the super-dangerous prophecy he's involved in?"

Notes:Chapter title derived from It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas, written by Meredith Willson in 1951.