I might have accidently overestimated the amount of chapters left…oopsy (I actually think this is the last one). In other news a pairing has been decided and you shall find out what one it is. It was really hard. I made a huge mistake and confused people with my final pairing choice, but after tallying the results it ended up 11 to 3. Many had both good and bad points, but I suppose I have to think long term… P.S sorry if the gods seem OOC.

Within a day it seemed SHIELD was already back on its feet. They had been forced to move to their dry dock in Nevada for repairs, but that didn't really bother anybody. Agents had been sent out to raid AIMs master base. They were due back within the hour. Apparently the master base was located in Montana and spanned for a long time under the ground. Percy didn't really care about that though. He cared about finding the demigods and deactivating the Nanos. What if Jeff was right? What if only the dead leader could undo the damage that was done.

Unfortunately that was the least of his problems. Apparently the World Security Council wanted to know why Jeff had died- and seeing as Percy had been there when it happened; the blame had fallen on him. There was a bit of unease running around. Some said that he killed Jeff; others believed that Jeff killed himself. Percy honestly didn't care what the agents thought; it was what the council thought that was important. They ran the show. They had the power to do anything they want- including pushing Percy out of a job.

So Percy sat down on the bridge and pressed the button for the private screening. Instantly the walls appeared, blocking both interference from inside and out. Sitting at the large table, facing the even larger screens, Percy felt small. So he opted to stand. As he stood his hand brushed past the dagger on his belt. Annabeth had gotten a concussion and was currently waiting it out in the medical bay (what little ambrosia she had seemed to be helping) and Percy just hadn't found the time to wander down and hand back the cursed dagger. So instead he kept it tucked in his belt next to his sword and gun.

"Agent Jackson," about four different people popped up onto different screens. Their faces were shadowed, they wore suits, and did not sound impressed at all.

"Council," Percy didn't know what else to say.

"So you're the famed protégé of Agent Coulson?" one female asked, still not sounding impressed.

"I wouldn't say famed," Percy shrugged carelessly.

"You've taken down 2 terrorist rings. Beaten over twenty black arms deals. Stopped over fifteen assassinations. And yet you let the leader of AIM die on your watch," the lady first started out by complementing him, but then she turned it around to slap him straight in the face, "or, you killed him personally. Either way we lost a very valuable asset and someone has to take the blame."

"So, are we just here to play the blame game?" Percy put his hand on the dagger and drew it out. He held it up in the light and let the council see it, "Jeff, or his full name Jeffry Rechans, killed himself with this. He used a chemical formula to enhance his body and give himself strength and healing. He stabbed himself in the heart- a fatal blow for mortals, but as proven in cases such as the Wolverine, they are still able to heal. We theorise that because this dagger is made of celestial bronze, it stopped his abilities from doing their job. He must've known this. He had done his research. He could've grabbed a gun, but no, he grabbed the dagger knowing that it would make him stay dead. He was happy to die."

Percy chucked the dagger down on the table, ending his little speech. He had been wrongfully blamed for peoples deaths and he'd be damned if it happened again. He wouldn't allow himself to be beaten down by people who thought they were better than him.

"Your file shows that you have interesting abilities. Some of which are more powerful in the ocean. Weren't you strong enough to do something to stop it? He did die in the water, after all," the male pressed, "are you sure part of you just wanted for him to die?"

"You've read the file," Percy glared at the shadowed people on the screen, "you've seen what that man has done. Maybe he did hurt me personally, but orders are orders. He killed himself. I was too slow to react. End of story. Debate it all you want, but that's the honestly story."

"Thank you, Agent Jackson," the middle man said, "we'll consider in your statement in our evaluation. Please send in Director Fury."

Percy pressed the button on the controls before grabbing the dagger and sliding it neatly into his belt. Walking off to the centre of the bridge he gave a grim smile to Fury. The screens behind them had momentarily gone black as they waited for Fury to go and speak to them.

"They're a piece of work," Percy muttered as he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Preaching to the choir," Fury swiped away what he had been working on and turned around.

"Anything you need me to do, sir?" Percy questioned as Fury began to walk away.

Fury turned towards him; "you've done enough, Agent. Why don't you go get something to eat?"

"Yes, sir," Percy's stomach seemed to growl in agreement, "I just have a couple of things to take care of."

Percy began walking away, but Fury said suddenly; "I want paperwork by Monday. And I can tell if you got someone else to do it."

"Yes, sir," Percy chuckled slightly before walking off the bridge.

He walked down the halls towards the medical bay. He headed into the room were Natasha and Clint seemed to spend most of their time. Natasha was sporting a broken wrist (she was not happy about it). Percy paused for a moment outside the room. Natasha was sitting on the bed with Clint. Percy couldn't help but notice how Clint's hand rested on her thigh. The two super spies gazes seemed locked for the moment and Percy waited a couple of minutes before entering the room.

"Am I interrupting something?" he joked as he leant against the wall.

"If I say yes, will you leave?" Clint chucked as he stood. He had a row of butterfly stitches on his brow and a nice bruise on his cheek from his previous fight.

"Probably not," Percy joked lightly, "I'm going out soon to get something to eat. You guys want to come with?"

"As long as it's not shwarma, I'll go," Natasha said as she brushed a stray lock of red hair behind her ear, "that was horrible."

Percy rolled his eyes, "I'll meet you down by the security check point in twenty."

"How did the council go?" Clint questioned suddenly.

"Idiots wouldn't know an honest answer if it hit them in the face," Percy chuckled as he pushed off the wall.

"Sounds like them," Natasha commented.

Percy gave a smile before walking further down the hall. As he turned he came face to face with Nico. Sending his cousin a wary smile he held up his hands in defence.

"You still mad at me?" Percy questioned.

"No," Nico said as he twisted his skull ring, "just don't go running off by yourself again."

"What? Is Nico actually caring for somebody?" Percy joked as he stepped away, "what have you done with the real Nico?"

"Shut up," Nico cracked a smile.

"We're going to eat in twenty. Meet by the first security checkpoint down on the ground," Percy left again. For some reason he felt in high spirits. Maybe it was the prospect of food. Or maybe it was because he knew he could get back to normal SHIELD work now.

He was even in high spirits when he knocked on the door of Annabeth's medical room. He would return the knife, then leave as quickly as possible to get changed.

"Come in," Percy heard Annabeth say from the other side.

Annabeth was sitting on the bed flicking and using her laptop. Her hair was up in a messy bun, her clothes were dishevelled, and a long row of butterfly stiches rested against her hairline. She gazed up from the computer and caught sight of Percy. She said quickly to the computer, "I'll Skype you later, Harry."

Percy figured Harry must've been the one he'd seen at the diner with her. Shrugging the thought away he drew the dagger from his belt and flipped it so the handle was facing towards Annabeth; "you can have it back now."

"Thanks," Annabeth took the dagger and put it on the bed.

Percy just nodded and turned to leave, his hand resting on the pummel of his sword. He was at the door when Annabeth suddenly spoke up. Her voice was so soft that Percy hardly heard it.

"I'm sorry,"

Percy turned around in surprise, brow furrowing. Had she just apologised?

"I was wrong," Annabeth continued, "I shouldn't have gotten mad at you…and don't look at me that way. It's hard enough."

Percy wondered what his face must've looked like. Either way he slipped on a cool mask and dug his hands into his pocket. He had been waiting for her to apologise. For five years he had waited. And now that she had, he had no idea what to do. He stared at her as she continued to talk, rushing the words out.

"I was just so made because I trusted you and then you betrayed me like Luke. But now I see you didn't have a choice and how horrible it must've been. I'm sorry," she repeated. She seemed extremely embarrassed. After all, she was supposed to be always right.

"I can't say I forgive you," Percy looked into her grey eyes, "but we can at least act civil. Right?"

"Yeah," Annabeth seemed slightly disappointed but she still offered a smile.

"I best be going," Percy said a bit awkwardly as he jerked a thumb towards the door. As he walked backwards his scabbard caught on the door and jarred him backwards. Annabeth let out a short bit of laughter.

Percy began walking towards his room, suddenly feeling a whole lot lighter. Annabeth had apologised (she wasn't fully forgiven), he was going to get some edible food, and he would be able to laze around his apartment for a couple of days while SHIELD did a follow up clean.

His phone suddenly buzzed and he saw he got a message from an unknown number. Opening it he almost recoiled away from the image of a very happy looking Stark. The message below read we can deactivate the Nanos to make them dormant in the bodies. You owe me a steak dinner.

For a moment he wondered why he owed Stark a steak dinner. Then he was faced with the fact Stark had his phone number. And then it hit him that they could deal with the effected Demigods. He smiled at his phone. Everything felt like it was falling into the right place.

It seemed the universe decided he was too happy though.

He felt a warm breeze suddenly wash over him. He gazed around, but he was blinded by the white light that enveloped him. Instantly he pulled out his sword and gun. As the light faded Percy found himself somewhere completely different. Percy was crouched in a fighting position, gun held in front and sword angled behind him. When Percy saw where he was though, he froze. The room made Grand Central Station look small; it was filled with a myriad of different thrones, gods and archaic designs.

Percy stopped dead. Yep, the universe must hate him. He gazed around at the faces of the twelve Olympian gods. All present and all looking rather….geez, he couldn't even describe what their emotions looked like. They were so mixed, different and out there it was hard to remember that theses actually were the pantheon gods.

"Put the weapons away, Perseus," Zeus spoke from his throne. The king of the gods look the same as always. Pinstriped suit, nice near beard, and a cold hard glare.

"It's Percy," the Agent said on instinct as he straightened up and clicked the safety back on his gun. Putting it in the holster he then took his time sliding his sword back into its scabbard. "Just, Percy."

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer Agent Jackson?" Aphrodite raised a perfect eyebrow, "I must say I do love a man with rank."

Percy didn't fear the gods anymore. So he openly rolled his eyes and sighed. He needed to keep calm and collected. The gods couldn't hurt him anymore than they already had. So he stood tall and proud. He looked each god in the eye before answering.

"You can call me Agent Jackson if you want. I am technically off the clock," Percy gripped the pummel of his sword.

"I see your attitude hasn't improved much," Hera harrumphed from her throne

Percy could've retorted with a lot of witty comebacks, but when he caught sight of Hestia's face he paused. Hestia was shaking her head minutely as she tended to the hearth. It was like she was warning him to hold his tongue. He took a deep breath and gazed up at Zeus- not daring to look at his father.

"Is there a reason I'm here?" Percy remained cool.

"We realise that we have made…." The word seemed hard for the king of the gods to say, "….mistake."

Percy remained quiet.

"Lord Hermes has pleaded your case rather incessantly. And after taking a look we have concluded the council's movement was wrong," Poseidon continued in the place of his brother, "we want to remove all charges."

Percy suddenly felt a familiar chill run up his back. He froze again-waiting for the burning sensation that was sure to follow- but instead he felt as if a nice summers breeze had just caressed his back. He stretched his back a little bit, trying to feel the difference.

"We hope to see you on the side of the gods once more," Zeus finished (not really looking at all happy about anything)

"Speak for yourself," Ares muttered from his throne.

There was a bit of silence, and Percy took advantage of it to think. Did Zeus think that was all it took? A simple stated fact? Allowing him to enter sacred grounds? To enter camp? The king of the gods hadn't even apologised. Sure, he had admitted he'd made a mistake, but he hadn't apologised. And now it sounded like Percy was expected to as they say. It just wasn't that easy.

"You're dismissed."

"What?" Percy said so suddenly he even shocked himself, "I'm dismissed? That's it?"

"Is there something else you'd like to discuss?" Zeus' black eyebrows drew together.

"You kicked me out of my home. Branded me. Made me lose everything that every meant anything to me and all you can say is that 'you made a mistake'?" Percy's wall of anger cracked a little.

"What else do you expect us to say, punk?" Ares questioned as he tapped his fingers against his throne.

It wasn't like he could tell the gods to apologise. They weren't four year olds. Instead he just turned on his heel and began walking out. When he reached the large doors he turned and said,

"I won't fight with you, for you, or against you. You've lost your chance," Percy walked out of the newly opened doors and out into Olympus.

He went straight for the elevator. He didn't marvel at the city or its citizens. He was too caught up in his thoughts. He had basically said F-you to the gods. Percy oddly didn't feel bad though. He would not go back to them after what they did. The way they abandoned him and left him for dead. Hell- even before they'd cast him out they hadn't really cared for the demigods. They'd made him fight a war, go on quests for their things- it was as if the whole world revolved around them (Percy supposed he couldn't use that excuse on Apollo).

In the safety of the elevator he tucked his gun into the back of his waistband. Mist wouldn't hide the gun, but it would hide the sword. Once on the ground level he pulled out his phone and called Natasha. He quickly explained how he wouldn't be able to make it (Natasha took it all in her stride- as she always did).

So now he was stuck in New York. He would have to drive out to Las Vegas tomorrow- or get a pardon from Fury. He walked to his apartment and set all of his things down towards heading into the bathroom. Stripping off his shirt and jacket he face his back towards the mirror and craned his head around to see.

His back was perfectly smooth. No marks, no scars, not a single mark. The skin was not as tanned as it had been before the brand, but that didn't matter to Percy. He could work out without having to wear sleeved shirts. He could change shirts before and after missions easily. He didn't have to be afraid of someone seeing and questioning it. It was amazing.

"Impressive,"

Percy jumped slightly, but relaced when he saw Hermes in the reflection. He turned around and chucked on a shirt before addressing the god.

"They didn't seem impressed," Percy leant against the sink and smiled.

"Who cares about them?" Hermes laughed a little. Outside rain began to pour down, "you did well."

"I wouldn't have made such a fuss if they'd just apologised," Percy crossed his arms over his chest.

Thunder boom loudly outside; "you know us Greeks. We never apologise," Hermes gazed up at the ceiling, "I best be going."

Hermes gave Percy a little smile, "thank you." He said. Then the god of messengers disappeared without a sound.

Percy ran a hand through his hair. "Coffee," he said to himself, "I need coffee."

Chucking on his riding gear and putting his gun in an ankle holster he headed out into the heavy rain. The poor New Yorkers had been caught unaware and scrambled around trying to find shelter in alcoves or under newspapers. Percy zipped through the streets skilfully, heading for his favourite little diner. As he zoomed into his parking spot though he brought up a wave of water from an indent in the road. The end product was a thoroughly soaked woman.

"Today is just not my day," the women said to herself as she gazed down at her wet clothes in dismay. She had previously been sheltered under an umbrella.

Percy turned off his bike quickly and got off. Taking his helmet off he shook out his hair and gazed apologetically at the women.

"I am so sorry," he said as he hurried to put a wheel lock on his bike.

The women looked him up and down suddenly. Percy wished the women would just say 'its okay' so he could head into the café and get dry (not like he could appear dry after being out in the rain). Her gaze lifted to his face and while she finished her impression, he started his. She had to be around 22, with chocolate brown hair, a kind, open face and black glasses.

"It's okay," she said finally "accidents happen, right?"

"Yeah," Percy moved under the entry alcove, "you going in?"

The women nodded and entered, putting her umbrella away as she did so. Percy followed behind her and went to the counter. Ordering a coffee and a bacon burger waited with anticipation for the food.

"Do I get to know your name? Or do I have to call you 'the jackass who soaked me with water'?" the women came up to the counter as she ordered her own coffee.

"Percy Jackson," he offered a small smile.

"Darcy Lewis," she replied. Out of the rain Percy got a chance to hear that she didn't have a New Yorker accent. Her voice was more soft spoken and sounded perhaps from one of western states.

"I've heard that name before," Percy said truthfully as he rubbed his cold arms.

"I doubt it. You don't get much recognition for political science," Darcy replied as she to wrapped her arms around herself.

"There's no science in politics," Percy scoffed. Why not make light conversation while he waited for his coffee? What could the harm be?

"And what makes you believe that?" She questioned as she removed her glasses and tucked them away.

"I work for the government. I know politicians inside and out. Whoever has the biggest gun wins," Percy accepted the coffee he was offered and had a big mouthful.

Surprisingly the brunette let out a chime of laughter; "I suppose I can't disagree with you there."

The burger was slid across the bar and Percy smiled brightly at it.

"That looks like a good burger," Darcy commented.

"The burgers here are great," Percy nodded in agreement as he picked the plate up.

"Good, because I'm starved," Darcy suddenly took the plate and sat down in a free booth. Percy stood surprised for a moment before standing at the end of the table. Darcy gazed up surprised, "what? You can't soak a girl to the bone then not expect to have to repay her. These are expensive jeans."

Percy sat down on the other side of the booth and tried to take in the situation. He looked at the female in front of him once more before picking a chip off the burger plate.

"So, what brings you to New York?" he questioned.

Maybe the universe was acting in his favour again.

Really sucky chapter. I've never been good with endings. Yes, this means it is the ending! Sorry, I know its stupid and anticlimactic but….oh well. Onto the sequel!