All Percy could feel was pain.

Searing pain everywhere.

His shoulder screamed in agony, his limbs felt dead and heavy, his head pounded like a sledgehammer repeatedly breaking his skull.

Grains of something rough, sharp and painful dug into the side of his face and exposed skin, scratching and rubbing at his flesh and making it raw every time the wind blew.

He couldn't breathe.

His chest felt tight and he couldn't find any air to fill his lungs. Vaguely he knew that he had been winded by the impact, but at the moment he could only focus on the pain.

His arms and legs felt numb and he couldn't move them, no matter how hard he tried. His mouth was dry and he felt extremely dehydrated, his tongue feeling thick and heavy in his mouth.

His entire body felt drained and unable to move, his energy spent on taking him... wherever he was.

Air finally came to his lungs and he managed to take in a small, gasping breath. While doing so, a few grains of whatever he was lying on was inhaled into his throat and he started to choke, falling into a fit of body wracking coughs that made the aching all over him worsen. When the coughing finally subsided, he lay on the scratchy ground lifelessly, trying his best to gain enough energy to perform the simple task of moving a limb. Eventually he found that he could twitch his fingers, and attempted to open his eyes. The light, though it appeared to be a dark, grey, cloud filled day wherever he was, was still too bright. He squinted, his vision blurry, eyes stinging, and most likely puffy and bloodshot. His eyelids seemed to drag down, as if begging for sleep. Percy couldn't help but want to comply due to his fatigued, exhausted state, but he knew he couldn't. Not yet, at least. He forced his eyes open, waiting until eventually his vision cleared enough to see what he was lying on: Sand.

White sand lay all around him and stretched off into the distance, surprisingly painful to lie on. He assumed it was because of the impact combined with his original pain, which was still throbbing agonisingly all over his body. As he blinked a few more times, things in the distant seemed to become clearer. He paid little attention to them though, focusing more on being able to move. His hand twitched and he tried to progress to his arm. It rose slowly and he pressed his raw hand against the sandy, ever moving ground. He tried the same with the other arm, achieving the same result but at a slower rate. He then attempted to move his feet, which, thankfully, were a bit easier than his arms. He very slowly turned himself around and fell back into the sand again, this time on his back. Even this simple action caused him to be out of breath, and he closed his eyes to regain his strength further, barely noticing the feeling of the wind gently pulling at his most likely sandy hair. After a few minutes he tried again, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. His arms started shaking at this effort, but he managed not to fall back again. He could feel a bead of rapidly cooling sweat drip down his face. After another few minutes he attempted to stand, which led to his legs collapsing after the first few steps and his face back in the sand. A pained groan escaped his chapped lips as he hit the ground, his body begging him to give up. After a few more moments he tried again though. He tried to stay on his feet, but he felt unsteady and the sand made it especially difficult to keep his balance. His legs wobbled as he took a trial step forward, his shoulder sending jabs of pain throughout his body. At a painfully slow pace, he staggered down the sand, stinging eyes glued on the continuously receding and approaching waves as they gently washed over the beach. He fell to a knee, legs straining to carry his weight any further. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself up again.

'Got to... make it... make it to... water...'

Even his thoughts were sluggish. His legs shook and he could feel a fine sheen of sweat coating his body. The smell of salt water filled his nose, giving him the tiny burst of strength he needed to take the last few steps. The water softly ran over his shoes and he stumbled further, the waves slowly going higher and higher up his ankles. He waded deeper into the salty water, until his legs collapsed and he sank to his knees, water now up to his waist.

His energy completely spent, he could only sit on his knees, head bowed and eyes closed.

At first there was nothing. But then a cool, soothing sensation ran over him. As if the rush of morphine had hit him, he let out an involuntary moan of relief, his eyes slowly opening again at the new but weak wave of energy that ran through him.

The pain in his head subsided slowly, relieving him immensely. His split lip and cheek no longer hurt either, and neither did his leg. Although he knew that his shoulder would definitely need medical treatment; his powers would only dull the pain so much. The wound ached, still sending jabs of pain through his arm and chest-although not nearly as painfully as before.

He watched with quiet fascination as the skin on his knuckles slowly knitted itself together, causing the pain to fade away and his hands to look as good as new. He knew that the majority of his wounds had healed, and with his powers acting as a strong painkiller, he felt ready to fight another hero. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that though.

He let out a long, relieved sigh, closing his eyes again and letting his head drop back. He silently listened to the sea, the icy water soaking his clothes comfortably as the sounds of the waves lulled him to a calm, soothing state of mind. Wherever he was, he felt at peace in the sea, with the beach spread behind him and the salt water stretching out for miles around.

He felt like he was home.

'Home.' He mused. 'I can't even remember where home is.'

"Where did you take us?" Percy's head shot forward again, eyes widening as a female voice came from far behind him. His neck almost snapped at how fast he looked over his shoulder. Standing on the beach, with white sand in her brunette hair and dusting her clothes, was the girl from before. The one he had ran into, the one he had fallen over, the one he had apparently taken with him. Percy would have kicked himself if he could, his eyes half closing in self-annoyance as he muttered as many curses he could think of under his breath.

'How did this happen? I'm usually so careful... I really must be getting rusty-'

"Uh... hello?" She asked again when she got no reply from him.

"I didn't mean to take you with me." Percy finally found his words. "It was an accident." He stood up and turned around, automatically making sure his clothes dried immediately as he waded out of the ocean and onto the beach once again. He scanned the girl a few metres from him, assessing her. He noticed how she seemed fit and muscular in a slim, fighter way, but still not enough to be noticeable by just anyone. She also seemed tense in front of him, more so than most would be, as if expecting a fight. But what Percy could tell most about the girl was through her eyes, which seemed hard and guarded, yet hidden away from all but trained eyes was pain and sorrow. Emotions Percy could easily relate to. He knew she was assessing him too, although she wouldn't be able to get much from him.

"Who are you?" She finally spoke again. Percy could hear her accent now that he was closer, and it made him wonder what it was.

'Russian? No, not as bold or heavy... maybe Sokovian?' While part of his mind was wondering that, the other part was deciding whether or not to tell her his real name. After a pregnant pause, he finally answered.

"Percy Jackson." The girl's eyes flicked over him for a moment, as if wondering whether he was telling the truth or not, before she introduced herself.

"Wanda Maximoff." Percy sighed as he realised who exactly was standing in front of him, a flash of annoyance mixed with recognition passing through his thoughts.

'Just my luck to take a hero with me while fleeing another hero after beating him up.'

"Where are we?" She questioned him. Percy turned around at this, gazing out at the sea again. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the water in front of him. He heard the girl behind him open her mouth, but he held a hand up, silencing her before she could utter a word. She stayed silent, obviously confused, and waiting slightly impatiently for him to speak again.

"Onetahi." He finally said, opening his eyes again.

"What?" She asked, clearly confused.

"We're in Onetahi, Tetiaroa, an island near Tahiti." He repeated and turned around to look at her again. She frowned, obviously not believing where they were until she saw his straight face. He walked right past her without a second glance, not really caring whether she followed him or not. After a few moments he heard the almost silent sound of footsteps on the sand behind him, indicating that she was indeed following him.

"How did you get us here?" She demanded, brushing off the sand on her clothes.

"You're not the only one with powers." He answered vaguely. He could practically feel the irritation emitting from her at his cryptic response.

They walked in silence, which Percy preferred rather than talking, as it gave him time to think about his next plan.

"Why was Tony Stark fighting you?" She queried, suspicion laced in her words.

"Because I'm a very evil person who will kill you and bury your body where no one would ever find you, no matter how hard they search." He deadpanned, not looking back still.

She folded her arms. "You've got sand in your hair and you're only wearing one shoe. I think I'm safe for now." She responded in a matching, almost condescending tone. He looked down at his feet at that, only realising now that he had somewhere along the line lost his right shoe.

'Well I'll be damned...' He looked around the beach, spotting his shoe hidden among the dunes of sand. He must've been more drained than he had thought, both mentally and physically. He changed his course immediately and moved towards the shoe, leaning down and picking it up. He turned it upside down and a torrent of sand fell from the inside, making him grimace slightly. He knelt down-not caring about the leftover grains still stuck inside-and put it on. 'I guess I was in such a rush I didn't tie them properly.' He laced up the shoe, tying the laces in a tight knot. When he stood up again, he saw Wanda standing with her arms crossed, her face showing a mixture of emotions. Her main expression being suspicion and confusion though.

"You have to take me back." She said, her voice firm and demanding. Percy raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"You have to take me back to Manhattan." He frowned slightly, blinking rapidly. 'That was Manhattan I was in?' He pushed away the feeling of familiarity at the name of that place, instead focusing on the other thing she had said.

"Take you back?" He echoed.

"Yes." Wanda frowned slightly. "You brought me here, you must take me back." Percy pursed his lips, the gears turning in his head. He supposed the right thing to do would be to take her back... But when had he ever done the right thing? She raised an eyebrow at his silence. "Well?" Percy stared at the brunette girl for a few pregnant moments, his face unreadable.

"No." With that said, he turned on his heels and started walking, leaving her confused and irritated by his response.

"No?" She repeated, stalking after him. Her eyebrows creased together incredulously at his response. "How am I supposed to get back then?" She demanded, picking up her pace to catch up to him.

Percy gritted his teeth, not once looking back at her. "Find your way back." He snapped.

"You practically kidnapped me." She accused, moving quicker as she tried to overtake him. She stood in front of him firmly, blocking his path and forcing him to stop, even if just for a few seconds. "I have no ways of getting out of... of wherever here is." She folded her arms, not at all intimidated by him, which in itself was rather surprising. "So either you take me there willingly, or I will force you to." Percy's eyes flickered down to her hands momentarily when he noticed a sliver of red threading its way around her fingers. He took the unveiled threat in through narrowed eyes.

On any other occasion, he knew that he would be able to take this Avenger-or rather, ex Avenger-in a fight. But in his injured and exhausted state now, he knew that he had no other choice, much to his irritation.

"Fine. I suppose I have to take you back." He finally concluded. "But first I need to recover." Wanda's eyebrows drew together and her lips thinned, obviously displeased with the answer.

"All right, but we are leaving again as soon as possible." She slowly agreed. With that done, he walked around her and continued on his way along the beach, eyes scanning the area. No one else seemed to be around; it was quite a dreary, windy day after all.

They walked in silence once again, and before long his eyes could make out a shape in the distance. "The Brando." Percy muttered to himself, relaxing slightly.

"What?" Wanda asked, glancing over at him.

"It's a resort." He answered simply.

"How do you know? I can barely see it from here."

"I've been here before." She went silent at that. Soon the resort came into view, pools, huts and villas buildings surrounding the area. Wanda was looking around with big eyes, but Percy didn't waste time looking at things he had seen before, heading straight for the front desk. There were a few people outside, lounging on chairs and sitting by pools, drinking colourful drinks from oddly shaped glasses, even if the weather wasn't the best. A woman in her late twenties sat at the desk, her blonde hair pulled into a bun and her brown eyes looking down at the computer in front of hear, a phone glued to her ear. While they waited for the woman-Emma, by the name on her name badge-to finish speaking, he fished out his wallet. She finally finished and put down the phone, typing on the keyboard in front of her.

"Welcome to the Brando, a luxury eco-resort. Do you have a booking?" She asked boredly, not even looking up from the computer.

"I'm afraid not. Do you have any available rooms?" Percy asked. The woman started typing faster, her eyes flicking across the screen.

"The only available room at the moment is a one bedroom villas." She finally answered.

"We'll take it." He replied, leaning against the desk slightly.

"Very good, and what is your name?" She asked disinterestedly.

"Jason Underwood." He told her his usual fake name, a pang of grief hitting his heart for an unknown reason at the sound at it. After a minute of typing she spoke again, still staring at the screen like a zombie.

"Welcome back then, Mr. Underwood. I assume you know the rates?"

"I do."

"How long will you and your..." She glanced up for the first time, taking in their rather scruffy appearances. Percy knew that he must've looked awful. Sand in his hair, his shirt and pants torn and slightly charred in some areas, and dried blood on his knuckles and cheek. He stared down at her though, almost daring her to comment on how he looked. His wolf like glare must've worked, since she didn't utter a word about it. Instead she looked at Wanda.

"Girlfriend." He added in for her, lying easily.

"Girlfriend, be staying?" She asked, looking down again. He could see the brunette girl frown in displeasure at that from the corner of his eye, but she didn't say anything.

"Two nights." He heard Wanda open her mouth to say something, but Percy silenced her with a look.

"Two nights..." The receptionist murmured, typing. "And how will you be paying?" He took out a card from his wallet, handing it to her without another word. After a few moments he had to put in the card pin, then waited for her to finish. While Emma was busy, Percy's eyes started wandering around. He thought back to the last time he was here; the cause and conditions of this visit completely opposite from the last time. His thoughts returned again as the receptionist spouted off the details of the room, holding out the keys. Percy just smiled falsely and accepted the keys, filing the information away in his brain.

"Thank you." He said and steered Wanda away from the desk and towards their Villa.

"Two nights?" She asked as soon as they were out of earshot, frowning.

He glanced at her momentarily. "It's the minimum amount of nights you are supposed to stay." He explained. She looked down, biting her lip.

"They're going to be so worried..." She murmured to herself. Percy glanced over at her.

"Who? Your team?" He questioned her. She didn't say anything, but nodded in answer. The corners of his lips twitched upwards into the ghost of a darkly amused smile. "I didn't think you had a team to go back to, with everything that happened with Barnes."

Wanda came to an abrupt stop, her eyes widening fractionally. "How did you know?" She asked, sounding both surprised and guarded.

"Everyone knows." He answered with a shrug. "The Avengers disbanding and fighting each other because of the Winter Soldier? It was all over the news." He wouldn't mention that he had hacked into SHIELD to get more information though. She didn't need to know that. They were both quiet for a while after that, Wanda because she was trying to get a read on the mysterious guy that had practically kidnapped her, and Percy because he didn't feel the need to talk.

He led her to their villa, unlocking the door and stepping inside. His oceanic eyes flickered around the room slowly, taking everything in with his studious gaze. He dropped his backpack on a table, before making his way all around the villa, leaving Wanda to do whatever she pleased. None of the windows were barred, and the doors leading towards the beach were made of glass. At least the doors could lock though. But other than the poor security measures, it was just as luxurious as he remembered it to be. It had been a long time since he had even been near a place so extravagant and expensive. With his mini exploration over, he went back to Wanda, an irritated expression flickering over his face. She had found a landline phone and was busy punching a number in.

"Wanda." He deadpanned, folding his arms over his chest. She flinched, almost dropping the phone in her hand, and turned around to look at him.

"What?" She asked, lifting her chin almost challengingly. "I'm allowed to call my team. You can't stop me doing that."

Percy watched her for a bit, unamused by her feisty attitude. "Fine. Just try not to mention me. And especially don't tell anyone my name." He told her, picking his bag up again from where he had left it. "Got it?" She nodded once in response, still looking quite tense. Almost like she thought he was going to stop her from making the call. "Good. I'm going to go shower now. Don't leave the villa." With that said, he turned around and headed towards the bathroom. He really needed a shower. Plus, the water would help with the few wounds that he still had. The dull ache in his shoulder had started to come back again. He closed the door behind him and dropped the bag lightly on the ground, silently marvelling at the overly grand bathroom. It was so... unnecessary. Unnecessary, but nice nonetheless. With a wince he peeled his torn and dirtied shirt off, dropping it on the floor and turning to face the large mirror above the counter.

He barely recognised the person he saw staring back at him.

Although the wounds on his face were healed, dried blood still crusted some areas. His hair was messier than it usually was, and sand dusted the dark strands. Light bruises stretched over his torso, along with dark smudges of dirt and dried patches of blood. Steeling himself, he turned around so that his back was facing the mirror. He turned his head as much as he could and looked over his shoulder. He almost grimaced at the sight. Stark's repulsor had really done a number on him.

The wound on his shoulder was almost the size of his fist and the skin around it was an angry red colour, some areas looking almost burnt. The wound itself wasn't too deep because of his shoulder blade thankfully, so it didn't seem to have damaged anything vital. That in itself was a small mercy. He sighed softly, knowing that a wound like that would not heal quickly. He also knew that he wouldn't be able to stitch up a wound like that. 'Damn.'

He shook his head slowly and finished getting undressed, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. He stepped into the shower and switched the water on, letting out a soft noise of approval in the back of his throat at the heavenly water pressure. He turned the heat up until it almost burnt his skin, eyes closing as he let the hot water pour over him, washing away the dirt and dried up blood all over his body. He could feel himself relaxing, and the pain that had come back faded away once again. The already mostly healed bruises on his chest and stomach disappeared completely within a matter of moments, along with the other bruises. He knew that his shoulder wouldn't be able to heal though. Major wounds like that never healed with water like the minor ones did, unfortunately. Life would be so much easier if it did. So he would just have to make sure that he didn't do anything to make his injury worse. He'd have to be extra careful for the next week or so. Hopefully that's how long it would take for it to heal up properly. He leaned against the shower wall, simply soaking in the water as he allowed himself to get lost in thought.

He knew that he had to take Wanda back to Manhattan, but after that, he had no idea what he was going to do. Probably go to another country for a new start. Again. He couldn't count how many times he had tried to live a normal life, only to be found by one of the organisations after him. Often he couldn't tell which was which anymore. Which one wanted him dead, and which one wanted him alive.

After washing himself thoroughly some time later, he climbed out again, his skin pink from the hot water and his muscles relaxed. He glanced at the mirror again, looking almost normal once more. He took the closest towel to him and started to dry himself off, feeling much better than he had previously. He knelt down next to his backpack, getting out a fresh set of clothes and an emergency medical kit. He always prepared for the worst, after all. For situations just like this. He got dressed into his jeans quickly, leaving his shoes off for now. He wasn't going anywhere, so why bother? He took gauze out from the kit, his lips thinning. This would not be too pleasant. At least he didn't have to put rubbing alcohol on; the water would have cleansed it of any infections for sure. He reached his hand over his shoulder, struggling to get to the right place to put it. The position was awkward to reach or see, unfortunately. It irritated him to no end. He managed to place it over the wound after some time, pressing it down and flattening the sides out so that it stuck in place. He let out a long sigh and pulled a shirt on, buttoning the front up. He gathered his things, noticing that he would probably have to throw away his previous shirt. It was too grimy and torn up to be worn again. Oh well. He picked his backpack up and opened the bathroom door, eyes immediately drawn to Wanda, who was perched on the end of the king-sized bed. They stared at each other for a few prolonged moments, neither of them saying a word.

Percy finally broke eye contact and walked past the bed, knowing that she was watching him. "I couldn't contact them." She finally said, her voice low with disappointment. He paused in his steps and glanced at her over his shoulder. She took this as a sign to continue. "I tried everyone I could. I don't know why I can't get through." She dropped her eyes to her lap, her eyebrows creased together. He remained silent though, unsure of what to say for once in his life.

"Well... You're going to see them soon enough." He told her simply. "So don't worry." With that said, he walked to the nearest window and looked out of it, noticing that the sun was almost completely set already. Wanda seemed to notice the time as well and glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the bed.

"Where will we be sleeping?" She asked, looking back to him.

Percy didn't need to think about the answer. "You can take the bed."

"What about you then?"

"I'll take the couch." He replied with a half hearted shrug. That's if he decided to sleep at all. He never did need much sleep generally. Maybe two, three hours to be functioning well. He had been programmed that way after all.

'Programmed. Not trained.'

That thought made him cringe slightly.

"All right." She responded hesitantly, rubbing her arm with a hand absentmindedly. "Goodnight then." She said after a pause.

Percy dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Goodnight." With his bag on his shoulder he left the room, closing the door behind him.

He didn't know how he felt about the hero staying only a room away from him. Someone who would take him down without a moment of hesitation if they knew who he really was. It made him cautious, to say the least.

But then again, he knew that she would have no way of knowing the truth. That put his mind to ease-if only just a little bit.

He glanced towards the couch and the array of plush pillows lying on it in a neat line. He honestly didn't know how people could sleep with multiple pillows. Personally he found it quite irritating, and he had been trained to sleep almost anywhere without caring about discomfort. When he went to sleep, he would make sure to kick them off.

But he knew that he wouldn't need to do that for a while. After all, he did have things to do before he allowed himself some rest.

Like figuring out how exactly he was going to get both himself and Wanda back to Manhattan. Him by himself was a piece of cake. He'd done it a hundred times before with no problems. But with Wanda? That was a different story entirely. He could use his powers again, but that would only drain him more. He would probably need to check flight schedules and book tickets for the two of them. But who knows when the next plane would arrive. It could be months. And with his luck, that was entirely probable.

Another thing he would need to do is research. And by research, he meant hacking into databases. He needed to find out why Tony Stark of all people would be sent after him. What had he done to gain that kind of attention? Well, besides killing all those agents and all...

But he had been under the radar for so long now, with barely any conflict. What changed? Why were they attacking him now?

And how had they found him?

He intended to find out as soon as he could so that he could go back to the way things had been. Simple and peaceful. Just the way he wanted it to be.

He sighed and took a seat on the couch, lowering his bag to the ground next to him.

'This is going to be a long night.'