Percy's POV

"Hey, you ok?"

The voice snaps me out of my daze and I turn away from the window with the blue, hyperspace glow to see Stephen approaching me. I still can't wrap my head around the fact that he's the same guy from Halloween. He's so... different.

Well, not physically speaking. Apart from the vitiligo he still looks about the same. Same dark hair, same high cheekbones, same confident posture, same smirk. Everything is about the same.

Except for his eyes.

I mean, they're still the same color and everything but they look... older. His gaze isn't one of a 20-year-old guy. Normal 20-year-old dudes have this stupid, cheerful gleam in their eyes.

Yes, I know I'm in my twenties but I've seen stuff ok? Don't judge me.

It's just that... Stephen's eyes remind me of Steve or Bucky's. Like, at first glance these seem normal, but then-

Wait no, that sounds weird.

More like, he has a serious, strong gaze. When he smirks his ego shines through a bit, and when he smiles you can see that there is a softer side to him. But when he does the whole staring-off-into-the-distance-while-The-Force-Theme-is-playing thing, he looks tired, broken even. Like a war veteran.

BUT, that's just me ranting. Who knows what's actually going through that guy's mind? It's been years after all!

"Percy!" Stephen yells, suddenly right in front of me. When the Hades did he get there?

"What?!" I yell back, annoyed at his tone.

"I asked if you were ok and you just kept staring," Stephen answers, equally annoyed.

"Oh," I reply, suddenly feeling foolish. My face burns up a bit, and I try to stuff my hands in my pockets before I remember that I'm wearing armor and I don't have pockets. Which makes me blush harder. "I- I'm good, I'm good. You?"

He casually shrugs. "Pretty ok considering we're all flying to our deaths."

Earlier, we had figured out that the donut spaceship was on autopilot, heading to, according to our genius calculations: Thanos Evil Incorporated. We had a small discussion as to whether finding a way to get back to Earth or go to Thanos' home sweet home. Stephen tried to persuade us to head back home but Tony was quite insistent on fighting Thanos at his home base.

Stephen immediately rebuked my godfather's idea. "I don't think you quite understand what's at stake here, under no circumstance can we bring the Time Stone to Thanos," Stephen stated with authority.

My godfather did not, and never will, like when people tell him 'no'. Even when he knew he was wrong, he won't ever let someone contradict him. Peter and I looked at each other with a nervous glance. With these two Olympian-sized egos in the room, this couldn't end well.

Tony let out a humorless chuckle as he slowly stalked over to our friend. "Listen, I know you're a nice kid and you're just trying to keep your 'Sorcerer's Code' and stuff. But with all due respect, doctor, you're the one who doesn't understand," Tony said, he was right in Stephen's face. Tony gently poked Stephen's chest as he said 'you're', which caused a flicker of annoyance to flash over Stephen's face.

Stephen, despite being many years younger than my godfather, was still a few inches taller than him. But Tony wasn't going to let that intimidate him, he never had.

Stephen, looking a bit bored, crossed his arms, raised a skeptical eyebrow and said, "Oh really? Do enlighten me then, doctor."

Peter and I stayed silent during the whole exchange, we knew it would only get worse if we interfered.

For a millisecond, Tony seemed a bit taken back by the "doctor" remark. No one ever called him "doctor", despite his PhD. But he recovered quickly and replied, "Thanos has been inside my head since he sent his army to New York six years ago. And guess what? Now he's back! And now guess what? I have no idea what to do! And now I'm not sure if it's a better idea to fight him on our turf or his. What you saw right now is just a fraction of what they are capable of. You see, these people decimated the entirety of Asgard! Who knows what else they're willing to do to complete their mission."

Stephen's expression didn't waver as he listened to Tony's little rant."I am aware of what happened to Asgard. But that still doesn't explain why you want to bring the Time Stone, which in case you're forgetting, is something that he would wipe out an entire civilization for, straight to Thanos. We might as well wrap it with a nice bow and hand it to him!"

I could tell Tony was on the edge of his patience. He sighed and shook his head as he placed his hands on his hips. Then he looked at Stephen again and replied, "I know my idea may seem like some sort of surrender-"

Stephen chuckled. "Y'think?"

Tony raised his hand as if telling him to stop. "Let me finish. This may seem like a stupid idea but hey, isn't everything? Ninety percent of the reason I'm standing here right now, alive, is because of I got lucky and my stupid ideas worked. So, if we fight Thanos on his turf, at least he's not expecting it; giving us an advantage already. So, I say we take the fight to him. Do you concur?"

Stephen sighed in defeat, but then he hardened his gaze and directed his attention to all three of us. "Very well, we fight Thanos on his turf. But I'm warning you again: If it comes to saving you or the Time Stone, then I will, without hesitation, choose the lives of trillions of people over one."

"So, you still think we're all going to die?" I say, a hint of humor in my voice. I cross my arms and try to act chill, trying to redeem myself for the slip-up two seconds ago."You could at least be a bit positive about all this."

Stephen mirrors my posture and replies, "There is nothing to be positive about. The only good thing is that we got a werewolf on our side. So... when were you bitten? Was it before or after we first met?"

I got flashbacks to when the Avengers first found out about my ability.

It was horrible.

It was weeks until they stopped with the Teen Wolf jokes or howling every time I walked into the room. The last one really got on my nerves, and tHEY STILL DO IT.

I sigh and reply, "Ok, let's get one thing straight: I'm not a werewolf. I can shift into a wolf, but I don't get those weird canine instincts ok? This isn't Teen Wolf, alright?"

My reply didn't seem to satisfy Stephen. "So if you weren't bitten, then how do you shift into a wolf? You said you were a sorcerer, do you have a spell that can turn you into an animal? If so, when did you cast it? I don't know about you, but you seemed pretty busy trying not to get ejected into space to perform a spell. If it's not that, then maybe it has to do with you being a demigod son of Poseidon! But last time I checked Poseidon didn't have any shapeshifting powers. So if you can't give me a clear answer as to how you shift into a wolf I will have to diagnose you with lycanthropy," Stephen fires question after question like a reporter.

I wanted to object at the Poseidon part and say that my dad has the power to grant others to ability to shapeshift *cough* Frank *cough* but I kept my mouth shut.

Instead I say, "Well after me and my friends saved the world twice in less than one year, some Olympians expressed their gratitude by blessing us with gifts. It just so happens that Artemis blessed us with the ability to shift into wolves."

Stephen tilts his head and replies, "But Artemis isn't the goddess of wolves, I thought wolves were one of Apollo's sacred animals."

I shrug. "Well yeah they are, but Artemis is a hunter and she has a pack of wolves so... why not?"

"She could've given you archery skills."

"Apollo gave us that." Which is a good thing because I used to suck.

"Oh... what else did the Olympians give you?"

"Well, not all of them blessed us, that would've made us too powerful. Only the ones that we are closest with gave us something."

"Like...?"

"Like Athena, her's was everyone's favorite gift."

Stephen raises an eyebrow. "Athena? Isn't she Poseidon's rival? What did she give you?"

"She took away our dyslexia."

"You had dyslexia?"

"Yeah, it's a demigod thing," I say with a shrug.

He doesn't ask anymore questions, and we both stand in comfortable silence as we stare out the window. The blue hyperspace swirl (does that even have a name???) seems to hypnotize us, and we stay in the same position until the swirling blue landscape is replaced by a view of a very solid, very crashable, surface.

"I think this is our stop!" Peter yells from the ceiling before he drops down behind us.

"Seems like it," Stephen replies in a bitter tone. His expression loses its calm demeanor and is replaced by a grim look of determination, like a soldier prepared to die for his country.

"Does anyone know how to pilot this thing?" I ask as I approach the steering gimbals. I had carefully inspected them earlier but even with my Sherlock Holmes deduction skills I couldn't get much. All I knew is that they were steering devices and that's it. As for the speed and the ignition, that's a mystery to me. "Because I don't see the self-park button anywhere on the dash... I don't even see a dashboard."

"Percy, I need you to get your hand into one of the steering gimbals," Tony commands with a sense of urgency. I do as he says and reach in; I secure my grip on the steering device and tell Tony I'm ready.

"Okay, so it seems like this was meant for one big guy so we're going to have to move at the same time," Tony said. "You got that Minichanic?"

I can practically feel Stephen raise an eyebrow at the nickname but I ignore it and nod my head. "Ready."

"Uhhh, you guys might want to turn!" Peter comments nervously as we approach a giant stone formation. "Like, now!!!"

Peter and Stephen widen their stance to gain more balance, expecting the worst, as Tony and I make a hard right to clip the giant stone formation. We almost come out unscathed, but then we feel a big impact, causing the ship to jerk forward while we can feel and hear a good chunk of the ship being ripped off.

As we regain our balance we realize we have a new course of direction. Down.

"That's not good," Stephen comments, in a very surprisingly calm voice considering we just lost a third of the ship.

"No schist, Sherlock!" Tony, Peter and I yell in unison as the three of us activate our nanotech suits (yes, I let them in on the "schist" thing, but only because Pepper and Steve instituted a swear jar and we needed an alternative).

Stephen rolls his eyes at the comment before effortlessly casting a yellow glowing shield around the four of us as we crash land at full speed onto the alien planet. We all fall upon the harsh impact, making the shield flicker for a split second but it holds up and keeps the debris off us.

Once the dust settles, I groggily stand up and dust myself off. I scanned the dazed group for injuries but, to my pleasant surprise, we were all unharmed.

"Whew!" Peter exclaims, now de-helmeted, as he jumps up like we didn't just crash-land on an alien planet. "That was a close one! We owe you one Doc!"

"Yeah, thanks Dumbledore," I add, running my fingers through my hair as an attempt to tame it.

"Of course," our friend replies with a curt nod.

"That was nothing," Tony says, barely standing up. "I've been in worse crashes."

I shake my head in a playful manner. "Sure you have Mechy, sure."

Tony glares at me but I ignore it as I peek outside to scan my surroundings.

Sheesh, this planet looks worse than Earth did in Wall-E. It's got the collapsed structures, desolate wastelands, that yellow tint, the dusty wind. Y'know, your basic post-apocalyptic planet.

But most importantly it's dry. And I hate it.

I can't feel any oceans, streams, lakes, rivers, nada. Only the little moisture in the air keeps this place "habitable". I mean habitable as in: we can breathe and we won't die within the next five minutes.

It still doesn't comfort me though.

I'm too far away from any bodies of water to fuel me. Too far away from my father, and my team. I feel alone somehow, without my friends by my side or my dad watching over me.

Yet, I got the feeling that this place is not empty.

I head back to the group with an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, only to find Tony and Stephen arguing about the next step (wow, what a surprise). Peter curiously descends from the ceiling spidey-style to hear the argument, his head quickly turning back and forth between the two men. I'm surprised he hasn't gotten whiplash.

Before I can break the argument up however, an anxious look suddenly overcomes Peter's face as he looks at something behind us.

"Um, guys," he says nervously, immediately grabbing everyone's attention. "Let me just say, if aliens end up laying eggs in my chest or something, and I end up eating you: I'm sorry."

Tony and Stephen don't find his statement funny, quite the opposite actually. Tony points a warning finger at Peter like a tired parent, "Listen, I don't want to hear another pop-culture reference out of you for the rest of the trip, alright?"

Peter shakes his head as he warily points behind us. "I'm trying to say that-...", a grenade ominously rolls into the middle of the group, "... something is coming."

EXTRA