Time should be considered as a wolf in sheep's clothing. It's the main factor of why everything comes to an end. Usually, time wouldn't really be on the green-eyed man's mind; but today was different. Time had taken something from him, and it wasn't a pleasant sight.

    One of two women are diagnosed with cancer: One of Three men are diagnosed with cancer. Why was the ratio of such a deadly thing, so high? Why did cancer have to always be about time?

   —they only have so much time left, Jackson, with the supplies we'll be using and how far his condition has gotten. We're estimating that they only have a few weeks left- days even.

    With a blink of his eyes, the voices that tremble in his memory we're gone. Leaving the 25-year-old to awake from a nightmare reality. The green-eyed man rose to sit up on his simple white bed, his black hair in a wavey mess as if it had practiced containing a decent look for the tired man. His bare chest was exposed to the morning light, showing many scars among it.  Getting up the six-foot-tall man stretched his sore muscles.

    The adult walked passed his nightstand to make his way into the bathroom, which was on the other side of his plain white-backed room. Among the many items on the nightstand—what stood out the most was an old dirty sticky note. It seemed to have been in the same exact spot for years, seeing as the dust had piled itself on it. On the note laid cursive writing, 'Love you Seaweed brains, I will be back home soon.' The note was a memory that the adult doesn't want to ever lose. For it was the last calming hour before a hurricane swept over his life once more.

    Walking out of his bathroom, the man was dressed decently. He was fast in the art of appearance as if someone was hovering over this shoulder and pen pointing out all the flaws in his attire. The half-god gave out a soft whistle, one that was repeated in a quick tune. In instant pudding footsteps, we're alerted of his presence and came towards him. Through his open door, a happily content labradoodle yipped up at the scarred man.

    This was a normal morning in which repeats every day. But the day has yet to begin, and it was betting it's bottom dollar it will be different.

   The black-haired man pets the dog softly, and laugh escaped his lips because of the mammal, "Good morning to you too." His voice was light as a feather, but a deadly sadness was hidden behind.

   If you were close enough to the sea child, you'll clearly hear the distress he was sending to his companion. This man has been through a lot, and it seems like fate is not yet done with him.

   Leaving his beach house, the adult walked down the streets wearing his trustee shoes. They were his favorite due to the blue color that adored them. The adult was making his way to a place, one he went to every day. Coming up to his destination, a building with a bold heading stuck out with an ocean green color: Ocean Levels. The place was a small coffee shop, one filled with fish tanks and books—even board games.

   It was his safe place, the last thing he made with his ex-wife Annabeth. He would continue out their dream with one another even if they weren't together no more. May it hurt deeply, the sea child was happy for his first love. She had found her own mark and she was happy with it—Annabeth was happy with it. Percy couldn't be sad about that; for if she was happy, he will be too.

   Setting up the shop, the adult feeds the fish with many laughs and breaks. Fish were talkative creatures, "My Lord!", the swimmers cheered as they twirled in their tanks. All hovering towards the sea prince, " Today's Tuesday, meaning the special. Don't forget to give us the special." The fish seemed to almost speak in sync as they beamed at the adult.

   Shaking his head the man fed his fishy friends, "Of course I remembered special Tuesday." The adult gave a tilted grin as he put the food back, "Have I ever let you down before?"

"Remember the one time you gave us a dead go— "

   The fish stopped speaking as the adult, childishly interrupted the fish, "We will never speak of that time." Putting his hands together, the green-eyed man closes his eyes and dramatically speaks, "Rest in peace, Perry the goldfish."

    With that, he left the fish and went back to setting up the small coffee shop. Putting out fresh food that was made a few minutes after he arrived. The green-eyed man took a bite out of one of them, only to get slapped in the back of this head.

   " — Ow. "

     A girl snickered softly at his comment before taking the dishes, of food, away, "I told you I'll do that next time I see you eating the cookies, Jackson."

   The green-eyed man known as Jackson rubbed his head softly, "I thought that was an empty threat, " He whined with an award-winning grin.

    "You thought wrong, " The girl flipped her hair dramatically before going back into the backroom; where the kitchen was located.

   Layla Weatherford was her name. She had brown hair, just like her eyes. She was shorter than Jackson, standing at five' five to his six-foot frame. With freckles adorning her face, the 17-year-old had been working at Ocean Level's for over a year now. During the time she became a close friend to Jackson. One that was helping him through grieving the last few years.

   But, there wasn't grieving on Jackson's part though; Well, normal grieving. It was as if the idea and loss that happen hadn't even settled in his mind yet. The adult was already six months out of his marriage. A marriage that lasted for seven years. That was what worried everyone around Jackson the most. He hasn't grieved for the loss of his marriage. Or for the loss of—

     The doors opened loudly, leaving shoes to echo throughout the cafe in its wake. Jackson looked up from his organizing, to look at a tall man with an eye patch over one if his eyes. Wearing a black trench coat and clothing, made the man stick out in the cold colored ocean themed room. The blue lightning seems to make the man even more intimidating.

   "Perseus Jackson, " The older male's voice sounded like a boom through Perseus's ears, "We've been looking for you for a long time now, " stepping forward the man gave a charming smirk, "Good to see you again, Jackson."

      The man now finally named and known as Perseus Jackson took a step back. Percy was a name people called him. Jackson is the name he wants to be called. Yet, hearing an old friend call him by his last name, left a sour taste in his mouth. The two adults look at each other for a few seconds before one of them spoke.

   "Good to see you too, Nick, " Putting the rag he was using, over his shoulder, Jackson gave a weary smile, "What do you need me for."

    Perseus Jackson was many things, a husband, friend, brother, a son. But one thing he was; he hates the most and will forever hold close to him. It was the main source of his despair.

   Why was cancer even a thing? Why did it take the best of us and let them suffer through the whole process? Percy will never know the truth to such an illness. But he knows one thing for certain. Percy hates time.

      This is the first to many chapters to come for this story, Baby Blue! I had wanted to make a Percy Jackson and Avenger crossover so long, that it was the main reason I haven't been updating my other books, Hah.

Thank you for coming and trying out my story!!! I hope you enjoy!