The Beginning

May 3, 2007

New York

1010 Hours

It happened during second period. Ms. Brockhurst had only just finished writing a series of equations on the chalkboard when everything erupted into chaos. The door to the classroom exploded inward as several large men and woman, armed with rifles and handguns, and donning protective vests swarmed into the room. As one, they converged on his desk, shouting at him and telling him to stand and put his hands behind his head. Percy tried to do as he was told. One of the officers grabbed him and twisted him around painfully. The officer slammed him into the desk and, at the same time, wrenched his arms behind his back. As the cuffs were being put on he barely made out the letters "F.B.I" on the chest of a nearby officer.

Once the cuffs were secured he was roughly dragged to his feet and hauled out of the room. He had been numb. He had been completely unable to comprehend exactly what was happening. He didn't know what he had done, and his heart was hammering in his chest. Students and faculty alike had come to classroom doors as he was paraded out of the building; eager to catch a glimpse of what was going on. He had seen Paul running out of his classroom, his face contorted in a combination of fury and fear. A pair of burley officers stopped him before he could get too close however. Percy couldn't register what Paul was saying, but it was clear that he had been trying to convey something. It was all for naught however, as he couldn't hear a thing over the blood pounding in his ears and the sound of his own thoughts.

Percy had been led outside, and into the courtyard in front of the school. After his eyes adjusted to the light he saw a veritable army of federal officers outside the school. Sedans, vans, SUV's, trucks, and even armed personnel carriers were sitting in the street. Hiding behind the doors of their vehicles as well as man-made barricades were nearly one hundred officers. Every one of them had a weapon drawn and pointed in his direction. He was momentarily blown off balance when a helicopter flew overhead, very close to the ground, and kicked up dust and debris. Behind all of the officers, was a conglomeration of citizens, journalists, and students. Looking up the street he saw that shop owners and day walkers were walking out of their respective shops and pausing in their activities to watch the spectacle unfold.

He was dragged across the lawn, weapons following him the entire way, and was pushed none too gently into the back of an armed prisoner transport vehicle. Once he was seated on the hard metal bench of the transport, his wrists and ankles were bound together and locked into the floor of the transport. When they were certain he was securely locked in, five officers, clad in full combat regalia, clambered into the back and sat down. The officer that sat down in front of him glared in his direction and he quickly averted his eyes. The door was slammed shut behind the last officer and the transport rumbled to life. Percy spent the drive running through possibilities for escape. But every time he thought he had a good idea the image of his mother and his friends swam in front of his vision and he stopped himself. He knew that should he try and escape, his friends and family would be the ones to suffer for him. That aside, Percy still held on to the hope that whatever was going on was a gross mistake, or even one of those viral pranking videos. He was waiting with baited breath for everyone to turn and shout "GOT YA" but if Percy was honest with himself, he knew it was nothing more than a fantasy.

The drive had been a quick one. It was only about fifteen minutes before they arrived at their destination. As the truck slowed to a stop, the officer in front of him grabbed his wrists and ankles roughly and began unshackling him. No sooner had the chains fallen to the floor than the doors to the transport were thrust open once more and he was roughly shoved out. To his surprise however, he wasn't in front of a police station or a jail. Instead, he was standing in front of a rather unassuming office building. Before he had to time to truly work through his confusion, an officer grabber him gruffly on the shoulder and began leading him forward into the building. Once inside, it became clear that it was much more than an unassuming office building. The inside had been transformed into a massive command center; maps, graphics, and note were plastered all over the walls. Desks and tables were strewn across the floor, many with computers and stacks of paper and other pictures. Pictures of him. They were everywhere, pictures of him at school, at home with his parents, with his closest friends. His heart began pounding harder now and his muscles tensed. As though she sensed Percy's thought process, the officer holding onto his shoulder said quietly,

"I wouldn't do that kid. It won't go well." He swallowed hard and with a tremendous effort, forced his shoulders to relax slightly. The officer was right. Despite how good he knew he could be in a fight, in a small and cramped building like this, with everyone inside armed to the teeth and his wrists and ankles bound, he knew he wouldn't make it five feet, let alone to freedom.

He was led through the office and through a doorway on the other side leading to a staircase. The procession took the stairs heading down. Percy found tackling stairs with ankles that were chained together was no easy task. They climbed down three flights before they turned and walked through another doorway into a long and empty hallway. The group walked to the end of the hall where two heavily armed guards were positioned on the outside of a small room. Nothing was said to Percy as he was shoved inside and the door was closed behind him. He tried to run, stumble, to the door before it closed but he wasn't fast enough. The large door was slammed shut and as he fell onto the frame, Percy heard it lock with a large 'CLUNK'.

He had pounded his hands on the door and shouted, "Hey! You can't do this you a-holes! I have rights!" That was what they always said in the movies and on TV anyway. He had never been particularly good with how the law worked but it always sounded good and he was pretty sure that there was at least a partial truth to it all. He kept pounding, taking care not to just break down the door.

Not only did that seem like a great way to get shot, but it would open up a whole new world of trouble with…others, that he didn't want to deal with. He gave up beating the door after a few minutes when it became clear that it was a lost cause. He had turned around and examined his new cell. It was an old storage closet that had been loosely reformed into a holding cell. The room was small, barely eight feet by eight feet. The ceiling was low and the walls looked to have been replaced with hard metal in order to deter escape attempts. Realizing that he was momentarily stuck, he had slunk over to the cot, and sat down.

He hadn't been sure how long he had been sitting there, but it had felt like a few hours at least. Eventually the door opened again, and a pair of armed guards guided him out of the room. He was directed into another small room. He had watched enough law and order to recognize that it was an interrogation cell. He was sat down on a cold, metal chair on one side of the small table in the center of the room and had his hands chained to a small hook in the center of the table. After he was secured, the guards left and he was alone again.

After another hour, his anger, frustration, and anxiety had been beginning to reach their boiling point. Just as he was on the verge of lashing out and potentially doing something he would regret, the door opened and a pair of well-dressed agents walked into the room. It was a man and a woman. From the way they entered the room, to the way they carried themselves, it was clear to Percy that the dark haired woman was in charge.

"About damn time.", Percy growled out, his cocktail of emotions becoming too much to handle. "What in the Ha-heck!", he caught himself, "Is going on! I didn't do anything wrong! You can't treat me like this! And where is my phone call! I watch TV I know how this works! I want my lawyer and my phone call!" Percy was beginning to wind himself up for a tirade but he was cut off when the man slammed his hand into the table aggressively.

"You'll get nothing and like you bastard. You really think after everything you've done we'd let you-", whatever he was about to say was cut off by the woman.

"Stand down Biernstein.", the man, Biernstein, looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it. The two sat down, the woman placing a large folder on the table as she did so. "Percy Jackson, I'm special agent Danson and this is special agent Biernstein. We are the ones that were assigned to your case.",

"My case?", Percy cut across aggressively, "What case?! I haven't done anything!"

"Well we both know that's not true, don't we Mr. Jackson?" said Danson, opening up her folder. "Let's see here, you've been expelled from every single school you've ever attended. Clearly you have a problem with authority. Are you a troublemaker Mr. Jackson? It certainly seems that way." Percy didn't respond, choosing instead to simply glare at the woman. "You got into a lot of fights every where you went to school to Mr. Jackson."

"What's wrong kid, don't play well with others?" said Biernstein snidely.

"What's wrong old man? Don't play well with women your own age so you gotta play with kids instead?" shot back Percy hotly. Biernstein shot to his feet, his fist cocked back. But before it could go any further Danson intercepted it and wrestled him back to his seat. Percy didn't bother hiding his look of smug satisfaction. He turned and addressed the woman, tired of whatever game they were trying to play.

"Look, I don't know or care why you're talking about all of this crap so why don't you just jump to the point. It's getting late and I'm sure the kids in Bernie's basement over there are starting to get hungry.", Biernstein turned purple again but Danson reached over and yanked hard on the man's jacket keeping him grounded. Danson glared at Percy for a moment before sifting through the file again. After a minute she pulled out a series of photographs and laid them out on the table in front of Percy one after another.

The first was dated in June of 2003. It was a picture of twelve year Percy. The picture was grainy, but it was still clear enough to make out the smoking husk of the St. Louis Arch. With Percy stranding in the large smoking hole in the side. The next two picture were dated as July, 2006. The first was of Percy, and several others walking into a large junkyard. The second was of an enormous explosion coming from the Junkyard. The next photo was of a beaten and bloody Percy running down the street in what looked like Manhattan. Percy felt his heart jump into his throat as he recognized exactly what this picture was. In his hand was a large and bloody baseball bat. The bat was held high in his hand as he was prepared to bring it down on the young man in the picture in front of him.

Then there was a series of pictures of very familiar faces. The first was of his former step-father Gabe Ugliano. The next was the handsome face of Luke Castellan and finally the pictures of Silena Beauregard and Charles Beckendorf. Percy felt his skin begin to crawl as an involuntary shiver wracked his body. He began gripping the table in front of him so hard the he didn't even notice he was beginning to bend it.

"You asked what this is about Mr. Jackson. Well I'll tell you. This is about you destroying a national icon. This is about you destroying public and private property at will. This is about you kidnapping and killing men, woman, and children. This, Mr. Jackson, is about ending your reign of terror in this country. Believe me Mr. Jackson, before the year is out I will personally see to it that you never see the outside of a jail cell for the rest of your sad, miserable life."

BREAK

The trial had been a joke. Deliberations barely last a week bfor the judge came back with a verdict that found Percy guilty of four charges of murder. Then there were three charges of kidnapping with conspiracy to commit murder. He had been charged with the destruction of the St. Louis arch as well as several destroyed blocks in Manhattan proper. When the dust settled, Percy was going to be spending a cumulative one hundred and seventy-six years in prison. Throughout the proceedings he had waited for help to arrive, but none came. Not Grover, not Annabeth, not Chiron or Jason or anybody besides his mother and step-father came to his aid. It wouldn't be until after the sentencing that he would discover why.

Shortly after the sentencing, Grover visited him. Grover informed him that the Olympus had sealed off access to the rest of the world during the duration of Percy's trial. As it was, apparently mortals had come too close to discovering their world, and by majority vote, the gods had decided that as leader of the camps and demigods, it was Percy's duty and responsibility to shoulder the burden of protecting them. The gods had put the their children in a stasis and they didn't release them until after the trial. It was only because of their empathic link that Percy knew that his friend was telling the truth. The reality of it all nearly broke him. On the one hand, he wanted to scream and rage and fight back at the injustice of it all. That after everything he had done and sacrificed, he was still being asked to give more than was his due. On the other hand though, he knew that if he could put down his life and sacrifice his own happiness and well being in order to protect his friends and family, then it was a sacrifice he was more than willing to make. It was tearing him up inside though.

Nothing tore at him however, like the sight of his mother on the day of his sentencing. She had collapsed on the floor of the courthouse, wailing in grief and misery; It destroyed him to see the single most important person in his life hurt in such a way. The image of her sobbing into Paul's shoulder, as he was escorted put of the courtroom haunted his every night for months. The knowledge that once again, he was the cause of her pain and suffering was nearly too much. After all she had given in order to protect him and see him safe, in the end it had all been for naught.

Percy spent five months in Juvenile detention. However on his 18th birthday, he was transferred out, and transplanted to a federal facility for some of the country's most dangerous criminals. He spent two months in general population. However, there was an attempted breakout and a riot ensued. During the riot, Percy scuffled with several other inmates. He shattered the arms of one, before crippling the legs of another. One inmate tried to gore him with a plastic shiv but was killed when Percy, unable to dampen his enhanced strength due to the stress, punched the man in the throat, shattering his windpipe.

After the escape attempt had been put down, Percy was moved to isolation. His only human interaction during that time was during meals, when guards would open the slot in the door to slide him his tray of food. For four months, this was his life. Until suddenly, it wasn't. He was roused from his sleep early one morning and dragged out of his cell. In his drowsy state he barely even registered being brought out of the penitentiary and being shunted onto a bus. Before he was knew it, he was two hours away, sitting in yet another interrogation room, not unlike the one Biernstein and Danson had thrown him in.

It was here that he first met Phil Coulson, the man that would forever change the course of his life. He had been seated for only about two minutes before the door opened and a man walked in. He had been dressed in a simple suit; he was an average looking man in his early to mid thirties and had a receding hairline. He had walked in with a kind smile and happy eyes and had approached Percy with his hand outstretched. Percy had hesitantly tried to shake the man's hand only for the chains binding him to the table to restrict him. Seeing the chains the man had frowned before calling for a guard and demanding that the chains be removed.

After the manacles were removed the two men exchanged a handshake and Percy learned the Man's name was Coulson.

"Mr. Jackson", Coulson had said after sitting down, "On behalf of the government of the United States, and in fact all the governments of the world; I wanted to wish you an apology for your wrongful imprisonment." A flurry of emotions ran through Percy all at once. Relief, confusion, sadness, and most of all, anger. No, anger wasn't descriptive enough for the rage that built inside of him. He had been apoplectic at Coulson's revelation. Coulson had smartly sat back and allowed Percy to rage until he had winded himself. When he paused to take a breath, Coulson interjected himself.

"Yes, Mr. Jackson, given what you have done and sacrificed for not only our country, but our entire world. My organization had sought to eliminate any and all traces of your encounters with mythological creatures from all federal databanks. I am saddened to inform you that, we clearly did not do a good enough job."

It had taken a moment for the words to register with him and he was sure that he had misheard but a look a Coulson's expression had quickly proven that notion to be false. As if to bury the issue once and for all Coulson nodded and said,

"Don't worry Mr. Jackson, we've known about your, ah, extended family for a very long time." Percy's mouth had gone dry and his blood was pumping so ferociously it sounded like thunder in his ears.

"Who is 'we'", Percy had asked, after a moment of silence.

"The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.", Coulson said simply. When Percy raised an eyebrow at the long name Coulson smiled ruefully, "We're working on it. The point is, Mr. Jackson that we know full well what it is you have done in the service of the world. We made a mistake and we would like to atone for it right here and now. We have done what is necessary to ensure your freedom. As of this morning, Percy Jackson has been cleared of any and all charges laid against him. You're a free man."

A thousand questions were roaming around in his head, and he felt the corners of his eyes begin to burn slightly with the promise of tears. He had long since resigned himself to the idea that his life was effectively over with, that he would spend his remaining years in a small padded cell. That he would never see his mother or any of his friends or family again. The abruptness of these revelations was almost too much to bear. After a moment, he had been able to compose himself however, and ask the question that was most prominent in his mind.

"How?" was all he could manage. Coulson Smiled ruefully again at him an asked,

"How did we get you released or how do we know about your…special….heritage?", Percy only stared at him tightly in response and Coulson chuckled slightly, "We've known about your kind for some time now. We even have a couple of you within our ranks. The how isn't all that important just know that we know. You don't need to worry, we share your sentiment, and we don't believe that any of this should be public knowledge. In fact, if it makes you feel any better, I know for a fact that this information isn't even written down anywhere. It's a fact of word of mouth only. If I hadn't seen proof with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed you guys existed at all."

Percy had swallowed thickly again and nodded in assent. His question hadn't really been answered, but he figured that he would probably continue to only get half answers and semi-truths if he pressed the topic. A common misconception about the young man had always been that he was stupid. Percy wasn't dumb, his intelligence just showed itself in less traditional avenues. He was excellent at reading people and situations, it was a skill he had developed over the years and it was what had made him such an effective leader. Thus, he knew by his reading and judging of the man that Coulson was the type to try and play things as close to the vest as possible. He knew the man was hiding something, possibly something very important, but at that particular moment, Percy had just been unable to bring himself to care. He was going to be a free man! He would see his mother again! Which brought forth the next question on his mind.

"So, what happens now?", Percy had asked slowly. It had been gnawing at the back of his mind for the past several minutes, since Coulson had told him of his release.

"Well I'd say that depends on you Mr. Jackson, you could always go back to school", Percy had snorted, He hadn't graduated high school, though he supposed he could always go back and get his G.E.D. Truth be told, he hadn't been sure he wanted to. He didn't particularly see himself as the college type. That had always been Annabeth's or Malcolm's thing. He just wasn't academic enough. He had no real world skills that would be useful outside of being a demigod, at least nothing he could practically put down on a resume.

"…But", Coulson continued as though he hadn't heard Percy's sound of derision, "I believe that would be a tremendous waste of your talents and potential." Percy had raised an eyebrow at that.

"The heck does that mean?", he had asked. Coulson had only smiled again,

"It's rather simple, Mr. Jackson. You have unbelievable gifts and abilities and your capable of doing tremendous good. I believe that you have the power and potential to enact real, positive change in the world. But you won't be able to do that while sitting behind a desk. Don't you think, that talents and skills such as yours, are much more better utilized out in the real world?"

Percy had narrowed his eyes at the man. Trying to discern what he was trying to get at. "What are you saying Coulson?", he had asked.

"I'm saying", the man had said, "that instead of allowing yourself to disappear into obscurity, you use your power for good. To help protect people, to protect our country; our world. That is what my organization stands for Mr. Jackson. That is the duty and the mission we have been charged with. We protect and safeguard humanity. We are proactive; we attack and disable threats before they are ever even able to effectively assert themselves. You've already proven yourself to be a vanguard for humanity Mr. Jackson, it's not every man that can say they've saved the world, let alone saved it twice. Humanity could use a man like you watching out for it",

Percy had paused briefly, replaying what the man had said a few times in his head. He had wanted to make sure that he understood what the man was saying. Coulson was clearly a man that was gifted at double speak, saying one thing and meaning or conveying something else. When Percy had spoken again, he did his best to keep his voice measured,

"It sounds like your offering me a job Mr. Coulson."

Coulson's only response was to smile broadly and hand Percy a business card with his name and a phone number to reach him at.

"When you're ready, we'll be waiting.",

Then, the man stood up, shook Percy's confused hand, and disappeared out the door.

BREAK

It was a happy three weeks. Following his release from incarceration his mother and stepfather greeted him with pomp and circumstance befitting the situation. His mother had cried and refused to let go of his hand for the duration of their trip back to Manhattan. He had been more than comfortable for the forced proximity, his time away had taught him lessons, specifically that life was fleeting and each moment was meant to be cherished because you never knew when you would get another.

He spent the next three weeks with his family doing everything he could to re-immerse himself in the world and acclimate himself to what had happened while he was away. This meant confronting his friends at the newly established New Rome. In what was inevitably a very short visit Percy told his friends that, while he understood their inactions and inability to render aid, he still couldn't help feeling like they had let him down. Percy had spent a large portion of his time away thinking, specifically about his role in the greater world. He decided that he was quite done with being the plaything of greater beings. He owed them nothing and they knew it. Percy had decided that if he ever got the chance, he would effectively cut off all ties he could with that part of his life and start something new, start something fresh.

Interestingly enough this fresh new mindset could be partially attributed to his time spent with prison psychiatrist Dr. Leonard "Samson" Skivorski. While Percy hadn't been willing, or able for that matter, to tell the man the truth of his situation in full, he had been able to tell the man enough for Dr. Skivorski to lend him some useful insight. The doctor told Percy that he needed to forge his own path, and that he needed to cut out these toxic and borderline abusive relationships. The kind man had helped Percy understand that there was more to him as a person than simply being an errand boy. Thus, Percy decided that he would forge his own path.

That being said, Percy did not believe that he needed to cut himself off from his friends from New Rome. His relationship with the higher beings around him notwithstanding, they were still his friends and they had seen each other through literal hell and back. He knew that they would support his choice, even if some of them didn't understand it.

For the most part, he was correct. Annabeth took his decision….poorly. Meaning she punched him in the nose and stormed off before he could try and salvage the situation. Percy's heart had hurt painfully, he had thought that she would be supportive in his decision, that maybe she would have even agreed with him and joined him in attempt to forge something great for himself. But deep down, he also knew that those wishes were simply that, wishes. For all they had been through and all they had been through together, Annabeth's fatal flaw, her greatest most mortal weakness was her own hubris. Her own staunch belief in the gods was simply too strong to break away. It was with a heavy heart, and a bleeding nose, that Percy walked away from the camp one final time.

BREAK

Percy's freedom and lightheartedness lasted all about a week before the inevitable happened. He got bored. He hadn't been going to going to school, thank the gods for the that. He hadn't been attacked by anyone or anything, and for the first time in is life there was no life altering or world ending prophecy hanging over his head. It was all really, really boring in his opinion. He thought that he would love just wasting away the hours of the day with his family, doing odd ends around the house and doing clichéd albeit fun family bonding activities. But it was all so…boring. He loved it, truly, but there was just a part of him that was itching for something, anything to happen. It was like being thirsty or hungry or having an irritating itch on you upper back that you just couldn't scratch. The problem was exacerbated by an annoying voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Agent Coulson's, to join the man's shadowy organization.

It eventually got to the point where his mother noticed his uneasiness and confronted him about it. They had a long discussion in which he eventually came clean about the discussion he'd had with Agent Coulson; he even showed her the card Percy had been given. They talked for several hours, talked long into the night about the path in life that Percy would try and follow. Eventually, the pair of them settled on some truths. The first was that, for better or worse, Percy was a demigod child of one of the most power gods in the known ethos. That meant that he had a natural craving and desire for conflict. The second was that Percy wanted to channel those desires for conflict into something that would be good for the rest of humanity. From the sounds of it, and the impression that his mother had gotten from Percy's rendition of the discussion with Coulson, was that while the organization he represented was station in the United States, it was in fact a global unit meant to protect humanity, not just Americans. It was a cause that Percy could get behind.

The defense of the planet and of the human race was a fight that Percy had been fighting since he was twelve years old. While it had started out of a personal desire to save his mother, Percy's motivations had morphed into the desire to protect his planet as a whole. To both of them, the decision was obvious. Coulson was right, it would be a waste of Percy's time and talents to spend his years wasting away doing something he wouldn't be good at. Percy needed to play to his strengths, and his biggest strength was his ability to fight. He decided to accept the offer. Neither he, nor his mother, were truly surprised by the decision. Percy figured that his best chance to protect not just his family, but the greater good, was to play to his strengths and do that with someone with the backing and support to help him.

While his mother was certainly saddened to her beloved boy go again, she knew deep in her heart that this was simply the right course of action for him. He had been suffocating in their little apartment, playing pretend family. It just wasn't who Percy was. She accepted long ago that the sea was untamable. You could only try and follow and guide it along its path.

As his mother left his room to begin packing some of his belongings, Percy reached for his phone and dialed the number on the card Coulson had given him. The man picked up after the first ring.

"Glad to see you've accepted our offer Mr. Jackson. There's a car waiting for you outside, we look forward to working with you.",

There was a click, and the line went dead.

A/N: Hello true believers! All right I know some of you will likely be upset with me because I'm going against what I have previously stated and I'm doing a rewrite of my story Sentinel. However, I believe that I have legitimate reasons for this. Firstly, I really, really did not like the way Sentinel was progressing. I actually hated it, I hated the way the early chapters were written, it wasn't paced in any way, characters and character relationships weren't fleshed out and the story itself was just marvel movies with Percy kinda tagging along for the ride. I needed to start from scratch. If there is one thing that writing, in any form has taught me, it's that you only get quality work when you're passionate about what you're writing about. I still stand behind my original idea and concepts. I just want to rework the stuff I started as a kid and fix it up now that I've matured a little as a writer. Hopefully this also means a more serious update schedule. So with that, I hope you enjoy this slight retelling of my first ever work. Let me know what you think, and thank you all for the support, kindness, and love you've shown me over the years. Many thanks, your biggest fan

-LilDB