The Truth Behind The Myths

Spilled Secrets From The Amnesiac Assassin

The people he didn't know took him down the stairs.

Will had given him new clothes.

A blue shirt and jeans.

They were comfortable.

Familiar.

He put them on without question.

Annabeth pulled him along.

Her hand was soft.

Her lips had been too.

He didn't know.

What had he expected?

A kiss.

Did he want that to work?

Like magic.

Like fairytales.

Those weren't real.

Weren't real...

But if they were.

He wanted his memories back.

Why did they take them.

To make him an assassin.

Why?

He was dangerous.

"Percy?"

He looked up at her.

At her beautiful grey eyes.

Her blonde hair.

It was pulled into a ponytail.

"Yes?"

His voice was still scratchy.

"Are you okay?"

He felt his lips twitch.

A lopsided smile.

"Define okay."

"Well the personality is there."

Nico was limping alongside him.

Annabeth looked sad.

"But the person isn't."

Nico looked at her.

"Sorry, Annabeth. I didn't mean that."

He watched the two of them talk.

Rubbed his thumb across the side of Annabeth's hand.

She squeezed his hand.

It felt reassuring.

Annabeth stopped walking.

He bumped into her.

"Sorry."

Annabeth turned to look at him again.

"It's fine, Percy. Everything is going to be okay."

He nodded.

But he wasn't sure if he believed her.

"Alright, everyone in. Steve, Tony, backseat. Clint, up here with me."

The redhead began ordering everyone around.

He looked up.

They had stopped in front of a car.

Steve and the goatee'd man got in the backseat.

That was Tony, then.

Seemed rather self-absorbed.

He didn't look like a worker.

His clothes were expensive and well-kept.

But his slightly chemical stained hands said otherwise.