The One-Seven

by lildrummerboi

Summary:

A devastating attack in Metropolis leaves promising young detective Percy Jackson in desperate need for a fresh start. A new city and a new case might be exactly what he needs to get his mind back on track. Or at least that was how he had been imagining things. Why the hell did he choose to transfer to Gotham again?

Chapter 1: Welcome to Gotham

Notes:

Posting of chapters has been taken over by dread persephone (me), so they'll be every other day or so until we get caught up. Which, by the way, all of his stories are mainly posted on fanfiction.net, which you can find here. You can also always bother lildb in the Emerald Library discord, where a bunch of authors and readers hang out. All author notes will be from the original story unless otherwise stated, which might be why they aren't always applicable or might not make sense :) -dread persephone

Gordon grunted as he turned up the lapels of his jacket against the rain. Shielding his pipe in the innards of his coat, he struck a match and lit the tobacco inside. He took a look pull, savoring the sweet taste in his mouth for a moment, before letting out a slow exhale. He watched from the cover of his umbrella as the rain cut through the smoke. Checking his watch again, he sighed. The man he was waiting for honestly had no sense of decorum. He had lit the signal ten minutes ago; he could have been halfway home by now.

“Jim,” came a low growl from behind him, in his earlier years, the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department would have jumped in surprise, maybe would have dropped his pipe and reached for his weapon. But after nearly a decade-long partnership, he was more than used to his strange acquaintance’s…quirks.

Turning around, Gordon looked at the Batman. He was tall, standing at around six feet and two inches tall. His already impressive frame only enhanced by the powerful looking body armor the vigilante wore.

He didn’t say anything, the Batman was never one for small talk or preamble. He was patient enough to wait for Jim to tell him why he was summoned. Instead of speaking, Jim simply reached into his jacket and withdrew a file, without a word he passed it to the man, who took it, the rain bouncing off the laminate casing around the pages. The vigilante took the file, and briefly skimmed over the contents. After a few moments of silence, the file was passed back to Jim.

The silence stretched on for a few moments before Jim grew impatient, “So?” he asked, “What do you think?”

“If you’re asking if he’s clean, then the answer is yes.” the man said,

Jim rolled his eyes, “Of course you already ran your own background check.” He took another puff from his pipe, adjusting his umbrella to keep the change of wind from redirecting the rain from pelting him in the face, “Don’t know why I don’t just have you conduct the interviews.” he grumbled,

Batman’s eyes narrowed beneath his cowl, but he wasn’t the one to answer,

“Perseus Jackson. 26. Graduated from Goode High School in Queens New York in spite of a troubled childhood. Had a run in with the FBI when he was a kid for kidnapping, murder, and destruction of national property but he was exonerated. After graduation he joined the Navy, did four tours before he was honorably discharged following a bad operation in Markovia. Graduated Suma Cum Laude from NYU for criminal justice before he joined the Metropolis Police Department. Rose through the ranks quickly, became the youngest detective in department history. Had the best case closure percentage of all active detectives.” The voice came from the other side of Gordon, turning around, Gordon saw the other half of the “Dynamic Duo.”

He was young, far too young to be in the line of work that he was; couldn’t have been more than thirteen. Dressed in a red and yellow armored body suit, his dark black hair matted down in the rain, the vigilante Robin was looking at a holographic file that was being projected on the gauntlet on the boy’s arm.

The boy whistled appreciatively, glancing up, the boy looked passed Gordon and at his mentor, “Guy’s good,” he said, before he went back to typing on his gauntlet. “Looks like he’s got a good career going, why’s he transferring?”

Gordon looked at the young man with a frown, he vehemently disagreed with the young man’s even being there but he knew better than to try and argue it. “He was there for the attack. His partner, Roger Davis, and his entire family were killed. From what Commissioner Corporon told me, Jackson was close to the family. Was devastated by their deaths. Needed a new lease and Corporon recommended I give it.

“I already talked to Superman. He had nothing but good things to say. He’s clean.” Batman said, choosing to ignore his partner’s interjection.

Gordon snorted, “They all start that way.” he said cynically.

“Where are you placing him?”

“The One-Seven.”

That actually seemed to surprise Jim’s companion, and Jim tried to keep a smirk of satisfaction of his face. It wasn’t every day that he managed to catch “the world’s greatest detective” off-guard.

“That entire precinct is dirty,” the man said,

“For the most part,” Gordon nodded, “I’m sick of bringing in new blood, only to have it tainted immediately. If he’s going to go on the take, I want to know about it quickly so we can take care of it before it becomes a problem.”

“That’s cynical,” Robin snarked, still not looking up from his gauntlet. Jim tried not to roll his eyes, superhero or not, kids were the same everywhere. Massively engrossed in whatever screen was in front of them.

“Maybe,” Batman said, “But it’s a good call.” Looking back at Gordon he said, “Who’re you partnering him with?”

“Montoya,” he said,

“She’s transferring,” it wasn’t a question but a statement. Gordon nodded, “Already transferred. After that business with Allen she needed a change of scenery. Between her and Jackson, I’m hoping they can turn around the One-Seven before things get any worse.”

“What did the investigation into Wise and Cavallo turn up?”

“Nothing so far, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the rats in IAB are on Falcone’s payroll too. If Jackson is as good as I’ve been led to believe, he and Montoya should be able to get enough together to put the entire precinct down for good.”

Batman hummed in thought, “You going to bring him in immediately?”

Gordon shook his head, “No, I’m going to sit on it. Montoya knows, but she’s under order’s not bring him into the fold until she’s sure he’s clean.”

“That sounds like it’ll take a while,” Robin chipped in, “Wouldn’t it be easier for us to take care of this for you?” Gordon actually growled at that, but it was Batman who answered for him,

“No.” he said simply, his gaze not leaving Gordon, “This needs to be done the right way, if we’re the ones busting bad cops then both Jim and the entire force lose what little credibility they have left.” Gordon nodded his head at that,

Robin just scoffed but didn’t say anything further,

“When does he start?” Batman asked,

Gordon shrugged, taking another long pull from his pipe, “Supposedly tomorrow,” He then turned and looked out at the city, the sound of sirens echoing in the distance, “But this is Gotham. So probably tonight.”

---

The phone on the night stand rang. Blearily, Percy swiped his arm over and snatched it. He didn't recognize the number so he contemplated just shutting the damn thing off and going back to sleep. Sighing, he fought the impulse and brought the phone to his ear. "Jackson" he said. His voice low and husky with sleep.

"Detective Percy Jackson?" the voice on the other end asked, it was feminine with a decidedly hard edge to it.

Sitting up, Percy tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes, "Speaking." he grunted, "Who is this?"

"Sorry for waking you up Detective but this is Stacey Alvarez with the Gotham City Police Department. I know you don't officially start until tomorrow, or rather later today, but unfortunately something has come up. You need to report to the corner of Snyder and Miller, there's been a reported homicide and you've been assigned."

As the woman was speaking, Percy was already getting out of the bed, moving quietly to try and avoid further disturbing the other person in the bed. Pulling on his pants he searched around for where his shirt had landed.

"You're being partnered with Renee Montoya, she's already on the scene and forensics is collecting evidence."

"Thanks Stacy." He said softly into the receiver.

"You're welcome detective, and welcome to Gotham." With that, the line went dead. Putting the phone in his pocket, he reached under the bed and grabbed his shirt, badge, and holster for his sidearm.

"Work?" Came a groggy voice from the bed. Turning he looked at the woman under laying naked under the covers. He dark auburn hair curtaining her face as the moon illuminated her alabaster skin.

"Unfortunately. Guess they couldn't wait until I was even an official member of the force." he replied. "Sorry that I woke you up."

"It's ok, you're not the first cop I've slept with, and I'm a bit of a light sleeper." The woman sat up a little, the covers falling from around her and Percy had to force himself to stay on task. "Don't suppose I could convince you to hang around for a few minutes before you go?" she asked, all traces of drowsiness leaving her at the suggestive nature of her question. Percy chuckled and he leaned back towards her, cupping her cheek and placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

"We both know that if I stay around for anything else, it'll take more than a few minutes." the woman smiled and leaned into his touch a bit.

"Can't blame a girl for trying." she laid back down and snuggled into the bed. And Percy felt an inexplicable need to explain himself a little,

"Just so you know, I'm not the type of guy to normally run out in the middle of the night."

She laughed, "I know Percy. If I thought you were an asshole, I would have left you at the bar." She paused, looking thoughtful, "I don't want to give you the wrong impression though, this was probably only a one-time thing."

Percy smiled at her as he stood up from the bed and threw on his jacket, "I know Vesper, you said as much last night. Don't worry I'm not exactly ready for anything long term myself. Besides, who am I to come in between Gotham and her next greatest radio host?" He joked and smiled again as she laughed. He paused at the door, unsure exactly what to say, "You have a spare key I can use to lock up after I leave?" He asked.

She nodded, "Under the plant in the hallway. Night Percy, stay safe and I'll see you around." with that, she rolled over, and went off back to sleep. Leaving the bedroom, he paused in the kitchen of Vesper’s apartment. Taking a piece of paper, he wrote down his name and number with a message that if she wanted company again to give him a call. While he was honest about not looking for any long-term commitments at the moment, he was certainly not going to say no to another night with the red-haired vixen.

He found the spare key, locked her door behind him and left the apartment. Arriving at the parking garage he opened the door to his restored, blue, 1969 Mustang and, after punching his destination into the GPS on his phone, he took off. He didn't need to look too hard for the crime scene. The area was fluorescent with the red and blue lights of patrol cars. Pulling up along the curb he stepped out of the car and approached the yellow crime scene tape in front of the alley just off the street. There was a pair of patrolmen stationed in front of the tape warding off any curious late-night onlookers, of which there were not many. Crime scenes were too common an occurrence in Gotham to warrant the sort of casual attraction Percy had seen in Metropolis.

The patrolmen watched Percy approach, their hands resting firmly on the holsters for their weapons as they scanned him. Good boys, Percy thought, in a city like this one, there was no such thing as too careful.

Reaching under his shirt slowly as he approached, he withdrew his identification and displayed it to the more senior looking of the two officers. "I'm Detective Percy Jackson, just transferred in from Metropolis, I've been assigned to the case." The officer Percy had approached scanned the i.d. and then Percy before sharing a look with his companion.

"One second while I grab Detective Montoya." he said before disappearing into the alleyway. Percy wanted to sigh but couldn't exactly blame the man. He was just being thorough, something he could respect. A minute later the officer reappeared with a woman at his heels. She was tall and dark skinned with black hair and dark brown eyes. Percy felt immediately underdressed as he took in her smart business suit and face mask. She lowered the mask from her face before she nodded at the officer closest to Percy, who lifted the tape to let Percy through. He nodded a thanks to the man before he addressed his new partner. He held her gaze as he extended his hand, which she grabbed in a very firm handshake, almost as though she was trying to crush his hand.

"Detective Montoya? I'm Percy Jackson, nice to work with ya." he said. He kept his voice firm and professional. While he enjoyed cracking the occasional wise ass remark he could tell from a glance that this woman was hard edged and all business. In the boy's club that was law enforcement it wasn't a surprise. It still meant that until he was more comfortable with her, and she him, he would keep things serious and professional. He could tell she liked and respected that in a partner.

"It's a pleasure Jackson,” She said, and gods even her voice had an edge of iron to it. She released his hand and handed him multiple pairs of gloves and booties. Percy immediately slipped the booties on over his shoes, but waited to put the gloves on. "We can get to know each other later, right now we've got a grisly one." Montoya said, her face grimacing slightly as she handed him his own mask

"That bad?" he asked, and she just nodded. Percy took a deep breath to steel himself and he put the mask on over his mouth and nose. His partner turned back to the alley and led the pair to the scene.

"Forensics just finished up a few minutes ago. Evidence is already on its way to processing." she started without preamble. “No i.d. on the vic as of yet, I have someone running her picture against missing persons but I’ll be honest, I’m not incredibly hopeful that we’ll catch anything on that yet. She was shot three times. Twice in the back, and once more, right between the eyes. Hard to say without the weapon but judging by the size and shape of the bullet wounds, we are likely dealing with small caliber.”

“No sign of the weapon I’m guessing?” Percy asked,

“Of course not, that would make this easy.” Montoya snarked, “I’ve got patrols canvassing the area, checking gutters and garbage to see if it was ditched somewhere but no luck so far. Anyways, the M.E. reported bruising along the ribs, and what is likely cerebral hemorrhaging. That being said, it looks like our girl tried to fight back a bit. The alley is pretty thoroughly trashed. Her knuckles are bruised pretty bad too so hopefully we can pull something off of her that will lead us to something here."

He was saved from a reply by their arrival on the scene. It was ugly. The girl was on the younger side of fourteen, and looked like she had been beaten with a pipe. Her left eye was completely swollen shut, and her right eye was open, but bloodshot. Her nose was twisted and broken and a trail of dried blood leaked out of one nostril staining her dress shirt. However, what really drew his attention was the lack of any obvious exit wounds in the woman’s chest. It suggested a smaller caliber weapon, likely a .22 or .9.

Percy bit back bile and tried his best not lose his composure. It wasn't the first time he had seen something like this and it certainly wouldn't be his last. That didn't stop anger and disgust that welled up inside of him, the tempest of emotions trying to come loose. No matter the scene, things were always worse when kids were involved. Taking another deep breath, he collected himself and began looking back at the girl, this time focusing on what she was wearing, “Looks like a school uniform,” he said, more to himself than to Montoya, but she still hummed in agreement,

“I was thinking the same thing,”

“Know any nearby schools with a dress code?” Percy asked, turning to look at his partner.

She shrugged, “Gotham Academy, think she’s a student?”

“Wouldn’t hurt to see how many of their freshmen are missing tomorrow morning.”

Montoya agreed before moving on and discussing something with a couple of patrolmen. Standing up, Percy took a walk over to a series of garbage cans that were strewn across the backside of the ally, their contents spilled and the bags inside having burst adding to the mess and misery of the scene.

One of the bins was dented rather badly on one side, the flag marking the bin as evidence told him that forensics also thought that something useful might be pulled from there. Next, he looked at the discarded trash itself. While Percy had only been a detective for two years, he had been partnered with a man in Metropolis who had been working homicide since before Superman had even existed. As such, the man had a wealth of knowledge that he had tried to pass on to Percy before he tragically passed away in the incident a few months ago. One such nugget of wisdom was to always have multiple eyes, look over multiple parts of the scene multiple times. You never knew what someone might notice out of the corner of their eye.

Which was why after his first pass over the discarded trash refuse, he looked away for a moment, letting his eyes focus on something else, before going over the area again. A moment later, he was glad that he did. On the ground, among the milk cartons and pizza boxes, was a small bracelet. The bracelet was corded silver with intricate golden inlays and a small emerald jewel hanging onto the side. From the angle at which the bracelet was sitting, he couldn't make out what the jewel was depicting. He called out to his new partner, "Hey Montoya, does one of our girl’s wrists have a small tan line on it, something that could have been caused by a small bracelet or something?" He didn't take his eyes off of the bracelet, he was paranoid he would lose it if he looked away, so he heard more than saw Montoya move over to check on the girl's wrists.

"Her right wrist has a small tan line, definitely something that could have come from wearing a bracelet. You got something over there?"

"Yeah, someone bring a camera over." Not a moment later, there was an officer with a camera in her hands at Percy's side. Percy pointed out the small bracelet, and had the officer photograph the bracelet from several different angles. When she was done, Percy took off his old gloves before putting a new layer over top. He didn't want to contaminate any potential evidence from his fingers when he had touched the wall, with the anything that was potentially on the bracelet. Something like this could be something, or could be nothing. It was impossible to tell this early into an investigation. Picking up the bracelet he examined it more carefully, the jewelry was not what he was expecting. It was like a runic circle or a pentagram, but in the center was a humanoid figure. He had the officer with the camera take a few more photos, this time focusing on the jewel, then Percy put the item in an evidence bag, sealed the bag, and handed it off to a nearby officer to send to the lab for analysis.

Pulling his gloves off again, Percy rubbed at the stubble on his face, Montoya walked over, "What did you find?" she asked,

"A small bracelet bracelet; could be something or it could be nothing. But it was made of gold, silver and emerald. I’m no jeweler but that piece alone couldn’t have come cheap.” She nodded, and Percy continued, "You were right earlier, it definitely looks like she put up a fight. The dent in that garbage bin over there is way too big to belong to her. You have the guys run a luminal test yet? Or are they waiting till we leave?"

"They wanted to wait for you to have a pass over the area before they started spraying." She said, "Think they're going to find anything?"

Percy shrugged, "Hard to say, but the guy was sloppy, probably wasn't expecting her to fight back like she did. I'm willing to bet they can pull something off of the walls that we just can't see." he then looked back at the garbage, and then out passed the alley and across the street. There were several large apartment buildings directly across the street from the alley, better yet, several of the apartments with windows facing the alley had lights on. "I'm also willing to bet that whatever happened here, caused a hell of a lot of noise. Someone was likely to at least hear something if not outright seen it. I say we head out, canvas a couple of these apartment buildings and see what we can-you're shaking your head, why are you shaking your head no?"

The look she gave him was almost pitying, "Don't take this the wrong way Jackson, you seem like you got a grasp on your shit, but you gotta remember you're not in Metropolis anymore. When people in Gotham hear shit start to go down, they don't call 9-1-1. They don't report it. They close their blinds and turn up their TV. Even if someone saw something, they sure as hell won't be about to say anything." She took a breath as she collected her thoughts and as she tried figure out how to explain this to Percy, "Look, before The Bat showed up, this was a mob town. People who talked, hell if they even looked at cops, found themselves on a one-way trip to the morgue."

Percy supposed he could understand that, he was from New York after all, and you heard things, but still… "But hasn't The Bat been around for a while now? Hell, he's even running around with a kid these days. Surely people don't feel that threatened anymore."

She shrugged, "Yes and no, you gotta understand Jackson, I grew up here, I understand how Gotham thinks, and it's hard to break literal decades of forced obliviousness."

Percy thought about it for a minute. He understood what she was saying, and part of him had to concede that she raised good points. "Alright, look, I get what you're saying. And this is your city, like you said you grew up here. But I still don't see the harm in at least having a couple officers canvas a little, at least with a picture going door to door in the morning. Maybe someone is feeling a little more cooperative?"

Montoya just shrugged. She liked that the new guy was deferring to her here and she also liked that he was taking this so seriously. The Commissioner had told her that her new partner had a hell of a conviction record. More importantly, he had told her that Percy Jackson was very thorough. She liked that in a partner. She felt pretty positive that it wasn't going to lead anywhere but she had to concede that it wouldn't hurt anything and so she told him as much.

Percy was about to respond but before he could a uniformed officer jogged up to them, “Sorry to interrupt detectives, but I got a lady here who says she was the one to call it in.”

Percy shot Montoya a cheeky grin, to which his new partner responded with an eye roll before they followed the officer. Before they approached the woman at the opening to the alley, Percy consciously slowed his pace, allowing his partner to be the first on approach. He fully intended to allow her to take the lead on this case. Something that was not missed by Montoya. So far, her new partner was proving himself to be more than competent.

The woman was older, in early thirties, with streaky blonde hair that was curled up in a messy bun on her head. She was wearing a heavy coat to protect her from the autumn wind and sporadic rainfall, but her legs were covered by thin, blue, hospital scrubs. The older looking officer with her introduced the woman to the detectives.

“Detectives,” the older man said gesturing to the woman, “This is Miss Hanson, she says she might have seen something.”

“Good evening, Miss Hanson,” said Montoya politely, before indicating herself and Percy, “I’m detective Montoya, and this is detective Jackson. Why don’t you tell us about what you saw?”

The woman shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the two detectives but she gathered her courage and recounted what she saw, “I had just gotten home, I’m an ER nurse at Gotham General, and I got held up assisting with a four car pileup on ’37 so I got home later than usual.” she took a shaky breath, her gaze flitting down the alleyway, “I was getting ready to make a quick dinner when I heard yelling from outside. I-I just figured it was some kids arguing, you know? Didn’t really think anything of it. But then the shouting got louder and then the screaming started.”

She took another breath, closing her eyes as though trying to wipe what she had seen from her memory, “I got worried so I decided to take a look,” she pointed up at a series of windows overlooking the alley, “I live in that apartment on the corner, sits right over the alley. I watched a-as this guy was beating this girl.” She was shaking, tugging the sides of her jacket closer to her, “She tried fighting back, she got him good a few times too. Kicked him in balls before she managed to push him into those some garbage cans. She tried to run but the guy h-he was just too quick. I saw him pull a gun and he just-just…he sh-shot her. Two times in the back. She-she fell, and then she started bleeding, and he just walked over and he-he…” she couldn’t finish as she started crying.

While Percy was sympathetic to the woman, watching someone get executed was among one of the most horrific things someone could witness, but they needed more information from her. Montoya was of the same mind.

“Ma’am,” she said gently, “I understand this is difficult, but we need to know. Did you get a good look at the man who did this?” Percy knew the answer before she even said anything. The alley was dark, the only light right then was coming from the myriad of lights that had been set up by the crime scene analysts. Prior to that, Percy figured the only light in the alley would have been coming from the full moon, and whatever was sneaking in from street lights.

Miss Hanson shook her head, “No, it was too dark.” she said, “But um, he was tallish, maybe around six feet. Kind of scrawny, he was wearing a dark coat and um a sweatshirt underneath and he had the hood up, so I couldn’t see his face.”

Percy had been expecting as much, it would have been far too much to ask for them to have caught a break like that, “What did he do after he killed her?” Percy asked as gently as he could,

The woman turned her attention to him, “He, um, he started to search her. Was going through her pockets or something, maybe he was looking for a wallet or something, I don’t know but he didn’t find anything I don’t think because he got really mad and just started kicking her.” And a new wave of tears began flowing down the woman’s cheeks, “Who does something like that. To a little girl?” she asked hopelessly, closing in on herself.

Percy shared a look with Montoya; they wouldn’t be getting anything else out of her tonight. Montoya reached into a coat pocket and withdrew a card, handing it to the woman she said, “Thank you very much Miss Hanson, you’ve been very helpful. If you think of anything else, please, give me a call.” The woman just gave a shaky nod before accepting the card. Percy gave the patrol officer a subtle gesture and the man nodded before gently grabbing Miss Hanson by the arm and guiding her away.

Sticking his hands into his pockets, Percy frowned in thought. Something about all of this just wasn’t sitting right with him.

“You feel it too huh?” Montoya was asking, shaking out of his reverie, Percy looked at the other woman. She wasn’t looking at him, instead she was watching the retreating figure of Miss Hanson. Feeling his gaze on her, she said, “This isn’t just a simple mugging gone wrong.”

Percy grunted in agreement, “I was thinking the same thing. Who tries to mug a fourteen-year old?” Percy shook his, no it sounds to me like he was looking for something.” Sighing, Percy checked his watch, quarter after three in the morning. He groaned, “It’s going to be one of those days, I can already feel it.”

Montoya just hummed in agreement, before checking her own watch. “We won’t be getting anything else done right now.” She said, as she began walking out of the alley towards the squad cars. “Let’s call it and regroup in the morning, hopefully by then the labs will have something for us.”

Percy jogged after her, “Sounds good to me. I’ve been meaning to ask by the way,” he said gesturing back to the crime scene as they passed a group of forensics cops in full hazmat gear as they walked into the alleyway, “Why are we taking this? We’re major crimes, right? Not to downplay the death of a kid but shouldn’t this be Homicides collar?” he asked,

Montoya chuckled darkly as they got to their individual vehicles. “This is Gotham, Metropolis.” She said, and Percy groaned at the nickname, “We don’t have the manpower to avoid splitting hairs.” She got into her car, before turning the engine over and reversing away from the curb. Just before she pulled away, she rolled her window down and said,

“Welcome to the One-Seven detective. You’re going to hate it here.”

Notes:

Alright so after the positive feedback I got in the reviews for Protector, I decided to go ahead and post the first chapter of this. I’ve been on a crime novel binge recently and just couldn’t get the idea out of my head, it plays with a one-shot I wrote forever ago and tweaked it a lot, fleshed out the plot a fair bit overhauled a lot of the issues I had with the original piece. This is going to be a severely different Percy to what most of you have seen. Not totally unique for my stories but this one even more so. Like most of my work, you won’t know much about Percy from the get go, instead you’re going to learn about as other characters get close and learn about him. I don’t know if this is going to evolve into anything substantial yet, but I’ll go ahead and post the chapters I’ve written over the next few weeks and see if there is any love for it. Please, let me know what you think, I’m hoping that this is a unique take on an under-loved and underappreciated trope, and I hope you enjoy.

Love,

LilDB

Chapter 2: Not So Silver Lining

It was five minutes to eight in the morning when Montoya climbed the steps into the precinct. She shifted the coffee in her hands, stacking one cup on top of the other, in order to relieve her hand from the heat of one of the cups. Idiot kid at the coffee shop had forgotten to give her a sleeve for it and she had been in too much of a rush to notice at first.

Grumbling to herself as she pushed her way into the precinct, she climbed the steps inside the building before greeting the desk sergeant, “Morning Sal,” she said over a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Late start for ya Montoya?” he asked, not looking up from the paperwork on his desk,

Montoya stopped, turning to look at the man, eyebrow raised, “What does that mean?” she asked,

Sal looked up, and raised his hands in surrender as he saw the sharp look in Montoya’s eyes, “Nothing!” He said quickly, “Just that I figured you’d be here sooner, your new partner has been here since six…”

Montoya looked incredulously at the man, what in the hell had Jackson been doing here since six? Ignoring the desk sergeant, she marched her way into the bullpen. Pushing open the doors, she scanned the room, her eyes quickly latching onto the back of her partner’s head. He was hunched over the desk; a phone was tucked against one ear and he was listening attentively as he wrote something down on a large yellow notepad.

Before she could walk over to her new partner, her path was blocked by the aging figure of Roman Cavallo. Dressed nicely in a beige suit which accentuated the snow-white hair and mustache, Cavallo looked like he belonged on the set of a cheap procedural cop drama than in an active precinct.

“Nice of you to join us Montoya,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest,

“Bite me, Cavallo,” Montoya snarled and made to move past him, but the other detective grabbed hold of her arm.

“You would be so lucky,” he said, with deep frown, “You need to get your rookie on the same page.”

Yanking her arm free, making sure not spill the coffee, she glared at the man, “The hell does that mean?”

“It means, that this precinct has a certain way of doing things. A way that ensures that everyone stays…happy. Your new partner needs to understand that or we’re going to have problems.”

Montoya didn’t respond, choosing instead to simply glare at the man before pushing passed him. She had only been with the One-Seven for a month, but she had quickly been initiated into how things were done in the precinct. It was why the Commissioner had placed her here in the first place. As far as she had been able to figure, both Cavallo as well as his partner Marcus Wise, were on the take. She didn’t know to whom they belonged yet, but she had her suspicions. And from the way the precinct lieutenant, Davis Winston, interacted with the pair, Montoya was certain that he was in on the take as well.

She walked briskly over to the desk she shared with Jackson just as he was setting the phone down. He was putting the finishing touches on whatever he was writing when she placed the coffee down in front of him. “You’re making me look bad Metropolis,” she said as she perched herself at the edge, “Coming in two hours before me; man if you wanted to impress me you could have just gotten breakfast.” she smirked, Percy just rolled his eyes, before accepting the coffee with a muttered thanks. Reaching into a desk drawer, he retrieved a handful of packets of sugar, before he tore them open with his teeth and proceeded to drown his coffee in sugar. He took a long, satisfied pull of the drink before he set it down on his desk and swiveled his chair around to look at his partner.

“Couldn’t sleep.” he said simply, “Got too wired up, so I went to the gym, made some breakfast, banged my head against the wall, and by the time all of that was done it was only five-thirty. I said screw it and came in; figured if I was going to be up, I might as well be doing something productive.”

Montoya just nodded; she had been in similar situations herself. Nothing like a two am wake up call to get the day going.

“You find anything?” she asked, taking a sip from her coffee. Percy nodded, reaching over his desk to hand over a separate notepad. Looking over the notes, it was a series of names, dates, and potential guardians.

“I spent the last hour or so on the phone with every middle and high school in the city, asking if any of their students failed to report to their first periods.” he said, then pointed to the paper, “comparing that with the number of schools that require a dress code and I had only one hit.” Reaching across the table, he handed Montoya a photo, it was a photo of the same dead girl in the alleyway, except she was dressed in an expensive ball gown, with an array of expensive jewels hanging from her neck. “That,” Percy said as he took another pull from his coffee, “Is Silver St. Cloud. He parents are some hot shot art dealers who own most of the galleries in Gotham. I made some calls but apparently they’re out of the city, and I haven’t been able to reach them.”

“Jesus Christ,” Montoya muttered as she stared at the picture. Looking back at her partner she said, “You know this is about to become a shit-storm of utterly epic proportions, right?”

Percy just nodded, “I figured as much. Thankfully, we’re still ahead of it. I was thinking, since we can’t get ahold of the parents, we might want to head on down to Gotham Academy, speak with some of her friends and teachers. They might be able to shed some light on what she was doing by herself in that alley.”

Montoya nodded; her new partner was shaping up to be better than she had been hoping for. When she found out that her new partner was coming in from Metropolis, she had been expecting an ambulance chaser. It was common enough for former MPD detectives. They got sick of having Superman steal all of the glory for himself, and moved to Gotham where they thought they had a better chance of stealing some spotlight for themselves.

But Percy was steadily proving her wrong. He was competent, self-assured, and was willing to take the initiative. All good traits in a good cop. Better still, he was letting her call the shots, letting her take point and have the final call on all of their decisions. It stroked her ego sure, but more importantly it pointed to the fact that Percy was a team player, not a glory hound.

“What are we waiting for,” she said, as she stood up, “I’ll drive,”

---

Stepping out of the car, Montoya couldn’t help but smirk a little at Percy’s appreciative whistle, “The lifestyle of the rich and famous, you should feel right at home Metro.” Percy just snorted derisively,

“Believe it or not” or he said, side-eyeing her, “Not everyone in Metropolis lives in a five-star penthouse. I had to rent an apartment an hour out of the city just to afford living there.”

Montoya stopped just short of the gates to the academy, “You’re shitting me.” she said,

“Nope” her partner said, “Between property value and cape insurance-”

“Cape insurance?” she asked,

“Insurance for when the big guy destroys half the city fighting a giant robot or…something else. City ordinance dictates that you have to take out an insane insurance policy, you know, just in case. Anyways, for the landlords that means that they charge triple what even the smallest apartments here are worth just to make up the cost.”

“Jesus…” Montoya muttered as the two flashed their badges to the security guard at the gate and they were brought inside the grounds, “Starting to see why you left.”

Percy just chuckled, “Would be lying if I said it wasn’t part of it,” he admitted, “I can afford an apartment with more than double the floor space of my last place and still not be paying half of what I did in Metropolis.”

“Guess the grass isn’t always greener huh?” she asked him, and Percy just shrugged.

They made their way through the quad, abandoned at the moment because it was the middle of third period. They were greeted at the front doors and were invited through a maze of intricate hallways ordained with ornate pictures and ostentatious decorations commemorating the long history of the school. After about a five-minute walk they were deposited in lush, comfortable office of Headmistress Lorenz. She was a tall woman, standing at nearly six-feet even without her heels and had the harsh features of a woman with many dedicated years of educating behind her.

“Detectives,” she greeted politely enough, “Please, have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the two open chairs in front of her desk. Montoya and Percy both sat down, “Now,” she said as she steepled her hands in front of herself, “What can I help you with.”

Montoya reached into her coat pocket and withdrew her legal pad. “Ma’am is there a Silver St. Cloud, currently enrolled in this school?” she asked as she looked over her partner’s notes.

“Yes, one of our star pupils. Last year She won the Martha Wayne Award of Academic Excellence as well as Miranda Cobblepot’s Philanthropic Achievement Honors. She is an excellent student; I assure you if she is in any trouble then there must be some kind of mistake.”

Montoya and Percy shared a look before Percy took the lead, “She’s not in any kind of trouble ma’am.” He said, and Montoya was impressed by his calm yet smooth delivery. Must not have been the first time he’d had to deliver this kind of news. She watched as he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a photograph. Before sliding it over he said, “I apologize in advance ma’am because this is rather…graphic, however we need you to identify the person in this photo.” he then flipped the photo over and slid it towards the Headmistress. Her puzzled expression quickly morphed into muted horror.

Gasping in shock and revulsion, she threw the photo back at Percy, turning away and covering her mouth with her hand. Percy reached over and snatched the photo back, tucking it into his pocket. They let the headmistress recompose for a few moments before Percy asked, “I’m very sorry ma’am but I have to ask, is that Miss St. Cloud in the photo.” The woman clearly didn’t have it in her to respond verbally yet, so she just nodded her head.

Lorenz was shaking her head, as though she were trying to scare away a particularly persistent mosquito, “I can’t believe this, just the other day she was here, happy and a-alive.” She looked up sharply at the pair of detectives, “Do the parents know yet?” she asked,

Percy shook his head, “I tried to get a hold of them this morning but just kept getting the ring around. According to the butler I spoke to, they’re out of the country.”

The headmistress nodded to herself, “I suppose that makes sense,” she mused softly, “I believe they were opening a gallery in Brussels, and wanted to be there Grand Opening.”

Percy and Montoya shared a look before Montoya asked, “We would like to speak with some of her friends, were there any students here that she was particularly close to?”

Lorenz took a deep breath, and tried to steady herself, “I honestly don’t know.” She said, sounding defeated, as though all of the air had been knocked out of her lungs at once. “I supervise over five-hundred students, hang on a second.” she moved over to her computer and began typing some commands into the keyboard. After a moment of typing she looked back up at the detectives, “Her homeroom teacher was Miss Rushman, she’s in the middle of a lesson right now but they should be finishing up soon. I’ll have my secretary escort you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” they both said, and stood up as one to leave the room,

“Detectives,” Lorenz said, stopping the pair before they could leave the room, “Miss St. Cloud, was a treasure to this world. Was going to go on to do great things. And now…” Her voice wavered slightly, “Now that treasure has been stripped away.” Her eyes grew fierce, and her features sharpened, “Find the bastard that this.”

“We plan on it, ma’am.” Montoya said, and motioned for Percy to follow her out of the room.

BREAK

They knocked at the door after their escort dropped them off, not waiting for an answer they marched into the room. Miss Rushman was on the younger side, maybe in early thirties at the latest, with bright auburn hair and piercing green eyes. She stopped mid-lecture and turned to look at the pair of detectives.

“Excuse me, I’m in the middle of a lesson, is there something I could help you with?”

“Sorry to interrupt ma’am,” Percy said as he flashed his badge, “GCPD, I’m detective Jackson and this is detective Montoya, we need to ask you a few questions.”

The teacher crossed her arms, standing defensively, “Well whatever it is, it can wait until after class,”

“Unfortunately, it can’t,” Montoya said,

“Alright kids, class dismissed, c’mon,” Percy said, whistling sharply between his teeth as though her were wrangling cattle.

“Hey you can’t-”

She was cut off by the scrapping of chairs and excitable chatter as the students scrambled to gather their belongings and leave. When the last student, a younger boy with jet black hair left, staring intently at Percy the entire time, Rushman spoke,

“That was hardly necessary,”

“Like my partner said ma’am, it unfortunately, is very necessary.” Percy said, passing over the photo of St. Cloud to the woman. Her reaction was…peculiar, she didn’t scream. Didn’t gasp in shock. She didn’t react in any noticeable way, she just looked at the picture; face like stone. Nearly a minute passed without a reaction, she just stared at the photograph. Finally, she just sighed and handed the picture back to Percy.

“Have you notified her parents?” she asked, showing no outward signs of distress,

Montoya raised an eyebrow, “We’re working on it,” she said, “But they’re out of the country and haven’t been receiving our calls.”

Rushman nodded as though that made sense to her. “We wanted to interview her friends, see if they had noticed anything unusual leading up to her murder.” said Percy,

“Barbara Gordon and Bette Kane,” the teacher said without preamble. Montoya stiffened uncomfortably at that,

“Great, were they just in here? We can probably track ‘em down.”

Rushman shook her head, “No, they’re older students. Juniors. They’ll be in the upperclassmen wing. They have Mr. Richards right now I believe.”

Percy’s confusion showed on his features as he frowned, “I thought St. Cloud was a sophomore?” Rushman nodded at him, “Then what the hell was she doing hanging out with juniors. I don’t know about the two of you, but when I was in high school, trying to speak to upperclassmen was a one-way ticket to being shoved in a locker.”

Rushman looked Percy’s enormous frame, up and down, quirking a brow, “There is no way you were ever shoved in a locker,” she deadpanned, and Montoya snorted in agreement. “But normally, you’d be right. However, Silver was…mature for her age. Had a difficult time connecting with her peers. When she first joined us, it was affecting her studies. I made an arrangement with Miss’s Gordon and Kane, they started tutoring her, soon enough the three of them were inseparable.” She was interrupted by the sound of a bell ringing. “That’s the lunch bell, they should be in the cafeteria.” Rushman said, Montoya looked over at her partner,

“I’ll stay here, talk with Miss Rushman, why don’t you go pay the girls a visit?” Percy shrugged but nodded his head,

“Take a left out of the door, pass the next hall and it will be the first set of double doors on the right.” Rushman supplied helpfully. Percy nodded his thanks and left out the class door. Rushman turned an amused smirk at Montoya, “He has no idea that Barbara is the Commissioner’s daughter, does he?”

Montoya smirked back at the woman, pulling out a pen and her legal pad, “Nope,”

---

It was only after Percy had entered the cafeteria that he realized that he’d never actually asked what the two girl’s he was supposed to be interviewing looked like. Catching the eye of worker behind the counter of a food trolley, he strode over. Flashing his badge, he asked, “GCPD, looking for Barbara Gordon and Bette Kane, any idea where I can find them?” he asked. The man behind the counter just gave him an odd look before pointing at a table near the back of the room. Sitting at the table were three girls, A pair of blondes and a redhead.

Thanking the man, who gave him the strangest expression of pity Percy had ever seen, he made his way towards the lunch table. “Excuse me ladies,” Percy said as he approached the table. All three girls turned to look at the new man, “I’m looking for Bette Kane and Barbara Gordon,”

“Who’s asking?” asked one of the blondes, Vietnamese by the looks of her, her muscles tensing as though ready to either knife him or run away from him at the drop of a hat. Percy quirked a brow at her, those types of reactions were more common among street kids, not exactly Percy expected to see from some yuppies in an elite prep school.

“GCPD,” he said easily, “Do you mind if we go somewhere else, I’d like to have a word with the two of you.” he said,

“Badge and i.d. please,” said the redhead, and Percy chuckled as he reached into his pocket to produce the requested identification,

“Smart girl,” he said flashing his identification,

“Thanks,” the redhead said, as she snatched the badge and i.d. out of his hand and looked over both of them carefully, “My dad always taught me to be thorough. After all,” she looked up at him over the badge, “It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get ya,”

Percy chuckled, “Sounds like a smart man, your pops. He a cop?” he asked, and Barbara smirked at him,

“Something like that, tell me though, are you new to the force, detective…” she stopped to look at his name one more time, “Jackson?” she asked, as she handed him back his badge and i.d.

Percy nodded, “Transferred in from Metropolis, today is my first day, well,” he amended, “I guess technically last night was. Why?”

“No reason, just curious is all,” she said, far too innocently to be believable. Percy just nodded suspiciously. “Now, to answer your question; I’m Barbara,” she pointed to herself, “That’s Bette,” she pointed next to her to a curly haired blonde with a classical European beauty to her who waved, “And that is Artemis,” she said, point at the Vietnamese girl. She just glared harder at Percy. Definitely did not have a good relationship with cops, Percy thought to himself as he looked away from the angry girl. “What can we help you with detective,” Barbara asked calmly,

“Do you mind if we talk somewhere else?” he asked, but the redhead just looked hard at him. Whoever had raised this girl was bringing up a hardass, he thought.

Percy sigh and gestured to the open seat by Artemis, and Barbara looked at her friend who nodded reluctantly, flashing a winning smile at the pair of them, Percy sat down on the empty bench. He pulled out a pen and his pad, before looking around the table, “Is it alright with all of you if I write some notes down as we talk?” he asked. The girls all shrugged and Percy took that as consent enough for him.

“How long have the two of you been tutoring Silver St. Cloud?”

Bette and Barbara shared confused and concerned looks, “Since the beginning of the last year, why? Is something wrong, did something happen?”

Percy sighed, he hated this part of the job but it was important to be honest with them, putting his pen and pad down he looked between the two girls, “Yeah,” he softly, his tone taking on the gentle “victim” tone, that Roger had used to roast him over, “There was an incident last night.” he continued, “I regret to inform you that, Miss St. Cloud was murdered, somewhere between one and two o’clock this morning,” he said. He had found that blunt honesty and directness was always the best course. Even with kids; kids could handle a lot more than anyone ever gave them credit for.

Bette gasped, a hand going to her mouth in muted horror. “Oh my god,” said Barbara, “Are you serious,”

Percy nodded solemnly, “I’m very sorry for your loss, and ordinarily and I’d want nothing more than to let you grieve peacefully, however, the clock is ticking and we have a lot of questions unanswered, so please I need your help here ladies,” he said.

Barbara swallowed thickly, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes but she nodded resolutely, and Percy had to admire the young girl’s ability to keep herself composed, “We met her last year. Miss Rushman said that she needed help, that she was having difficulties adjusting to school here. Her family had just moved back to Gotham and she didn’t have any friends.” Barbara nodded sadly, “Our tutoring sessions usually just led to us hanging out for a few hours; talking, watching movies, just being together you know?”

Percy nodded, writing down some notes in his notepad, “So would you say you knew her well?” he asked,

Barbara frowned in thought, “Well enough to know that she’d been acting a little strange lately,”

That got Percy’s attention, it had been where his questioning had been going, “Strange in what way,”

“S-she um, she missed our last meeting,” Bette said, stumbling over her words slightly as she tried to fight through tears. Barbara reached next to her and grabbed her friend’s hand reassuringly,

“And that wasn’t a normal occurrence then?” Percy asked,

“No,” said Barbara, shaking her head, “We usually met three times a week, it’s been that way since we met; and she never once called or texted to cancel a meeting, until this week…” she said, trailing off.

Percy nodded, “Alright, did she tell you why she had to cancel?”

Bette shook her head, “No,” she sniffled, “She just said that there were urgent family matters that she had to deal with and wouldn’t be able to meet at all this week,”

“She didn’t specify at all what those problems were?” Percy asked, continuing to write as he did so, and Bette shook her head,

Barbara frowned as she thought back on the last week, “She did seem a little more nervous this week,” she said,

“Nervous how?” Percy asked,

“I don’t know,” the redhead said, “She was…shifty. Always looking around, constantly tense, as though she was worried she was going to get jumped at any-” she stopped talking, shaking slightly as the reality of what she said came through. Percy allowed her a few moments to collect herself before asking prompting her,

“Ok, so she seemed jumpy, scared?” he probed,

Barbara nodded, “She would normally hang around school for a bit after class, you know study in the library or go to the gym, but for the past week she would get immediately picked up and she would go straight back to the penthouse. We tried to ask her what was wrong but she just kept telling us that she was stressed because of something going on with her parents,”

“Did she ever specify what was going on with them?” Percy asked,

“No,” said Barbara, “Just that they were pushing her to take on a more active role in the family business. We were surprised when she didn’t go with them to Brussels.”

Percy nodded, scribbling down a few more notes, “Ok, this penthouse, have either of you ever been there?”

“Yeah,” Bette nodded, “It was on Wealthy, 271 Wealthy. Down in Robbinsville,” she said, “We used to study there together…” and then the poor girl broke down crying again. Leaning into Barbara’s shoulder.

“Is there anything else you can think of?” Percy asked gently, “Anything, even the most irrelevant detail could prove vitally important.”

Barbara thought for a second, still holding Bette’s shoulder, “I did notice that her driver was different this week,” she said,

“Driver?” Percy asked,

“Yeah, her family has someone drop them off from their penthouse every morning,”

Percy was nodding, “Ok, and prior to this past week, she had the same driver, every single day?” Barbara nodded,

“Do you know his name by chance?” he asked, and the pair of girls shook their heads. Sighing Percy circled some notes on his pad before. Looking up, Percy caught sight of his detective and a woman he hadn’t met walk into the cafeteria, looking back at the girls Percy closed his notebook and put it away in his suit pocket. Reaching into his pants he withdrew a couple of business cards, leftover from his time in Metropolis. Scratching out the “Metropolis Police Department” at the top of the card, he flipped them over and wrote a name and number on the back.

Handing the cards to Barbara he said, “That is my personal cell. You think of anything else and you give me a call, day or night. Even if you just need to talk to someone, use it, my line is always open for you ok?” and Barbara nodded, tucking the cards into the jacket pocket of her uniform. “On the back is the number for a grief counselor, her name is Sharon MacMillian. Tell her Percy recommended you and she’ll help you out with anything else you might need ok?” Seeing the pair nod, Percy stood up, “I’m very sorry for your loss ladies. But I promise you, we’re going to get the person who did this, and they will see justice.”

With one last sorrowful look at the mourning teenagers, Percy stepped away from the table, and passed by the woman who had come in with Montoya. The woman gently grabbed both girls by the shoulder, and after a few whispered words, escorted the pair out of the cafeteria.

“Who’s that?” he asked as he approached his partner,

“School shrink” she said, “Came rushing into the classroom as I was interviewing Rushman. By the way, you have no idea who it was you were talking to, do you?” She asked, an excited shit-eating grin on her face.

Percy quirked an eyebrow, “No…” he said slowly, turning to look back in time to see Miss Gordon turn back and stare at him as she was ushered out of the cafeteria, “Should I have?” he asked,

“Nah,” said Montoya, waving it off but maintaining her smarmy grin.

“Ok…” Percy drawled before shaking it off and asking, “Get anything out of the teacher?”

“Said that St. Cloud had been jumpy as hell all week. Was fidgety, could hardly concentrate in class, said that was nothing like how she normally acted. But that was pretty much it. She didn’t have much for me besides what we already knew. How about you, get anything form the girls?”

Percy nodded, “Told me the same thing, that she had been nervous all week, like she was scared about something. The girls told me that she had been taking a more active role in the family business, but couldn’t tell me what that meant. They also gave me the address for the Penthouse the family was staying at. And get this, prior to this week, the girl always had the same driver to and from school. Then all of a sudden, there was a new guy driving her around.”

“Sounds like we need to visit the penthouse, and maybe see if we can track down this missing driver,”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Percy smirked, and Montoya threw her keys at him, “You drive, I’ll make some calls, see if the driver was individually hired or worked for a chauffeur company.”

Notes:

Honestly this got a better reception than I was expecting. Hopefully this chapter gives you a better idea as to what I’m going for here. This is going to be a slower paced, character driven, detective drama. Think law and order with superheroes. Percy still has his powers and he is going to be interacting with people, but this story is going to be more of a focus on how superheroes and their actions effect the world around them. I have one more chapter ready to go after this one before I need to start writing more but I still need to see if the community thinks the story will have legs before I spend too much time on it. So please, let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoyed because honestly, I’m having a blast writing and imagining this one.

Love,
LilDB

Chapter 3: Partner Loyalty

“Are you absolutely sure about that? No, no that’s fine. Do you have his address on file? Perfect, yes I’m ready for it. Uh-huh, ok, wonderful thank so much for you help I really appreciate it.” Montoya ended the call and looked at Percy he pulled the cruiser up to the stop light,

“That was Ganteer’s Chauffeur services, the ones the St. Cloud’s had on retainer, apparently, one John Dorsett hasn’t called in sick once this week. And the company swears up and down that Mr. Dorsett has been the personal driver for Silver St. Cloud since the St. Cloud’s moved to Gotham.”

Percy looked over briefly, then readjusted and took off down the road when the light turned green, “Sounds like we need to pay Mr. Dorsett a little visit. You get an address?”

“Yup, got a townhouse in the village, we’ll head over after the penthouse.” Percy just hummed in agreement.

Pulling into a parking space across from the town house the two detectives crossed the street and passed over into the Robbinsville High Rise. Crossing through the ostentatious lobby to the help desk, a pretty young woman with dark raven hair and deep almond skin greeted them in a false cheer, “Welcome to Robbinsville, looking to check in?”

The detectives showed their identification, and the smile dropped from the receptionist’s face, “You’re here for the St. Cloud residence?” she asked,

“Yes ma’am,” Percy nodded,

“It hasn’t been cleaned yet correct?”

The woman shook her head, “The service doesn’t usually make it up to the penthouse before noon, but when we got your call I went ahead and cancelled the cleaning for today,”

Percy beamed at her and the woman smiled shyly at him, “That’s awesome, thank you very much.” The woman just brushed off the praise, her cheeks darkening slightly. Percy missed the way Montoya rolled her eyes but Percy was oblivious to it all.

“Anything I can do to help out the…brave members of our GCPD.” She said, not even looking at Montoya,

Clearing her throat, Montoya tried to bring the woman’s attention to her, but she was a little too distracted by her partner. Percy meanwhile, did turn to look at his partner, who just ignored him, “Can we get someone to let us into the room? Please?” She added, almost as an afterthought. The woman shook free from her daydreaming and nodded emphatically, “of course detective, one moment.” Then she disappeared into a room behind the counter.

Percy turned and shot his partner a look, she glowered back at him, “What?” he asked,

“This going to be a thing with you?” she asked crossing her arms and looking at him, “Cause I gotta deal with it enough from those dipshits at the precinct, so if I have to deal with you flirting with everything with two legs and a pair of tits, I’d just like to know in advance.”

Percy’s expression darkened considerably, his brow furrowed and the lines of his face curved downward, “I don’t know what the fuck you think just happened but it didn’t. I don’t make it a habit of trying to score on the job. I’ve got a bit more personal pride than that. And I’d thank you, for not lumping me in with those jackasses Cavallo and Wise.” Leaning up against the counter, he crossed his arms, his suit jacket creasing slightly with the movement,

“Look Montoya, I know we haven’t known each other very long yet, but I’d like to think that I presented myself a bit more professionally than what you’re accusing me of.”

Montoya just sighed, and looked away. He was right and she knew it, “You’re right,” she admitted, “I’m sorry. It’s just, being the only female detective in the squad…” she trailed off, and Percy raised his hands in the air,

“No, no, believe me I get it. You got more to prove than anyone and I respect that. Stuck in the boys club that is the GCPD,” He chuckled likely under his breath, “You remind me of Lois actually, always trying to prove herself when she had already proven that she was the best.” He looked off fondly into the distance, but before Montoya could respond the door opened and the receptionist came walking back.

As he was turning around, Percy winked and whispered, “And besides, I wasn’t the one staring at her ass as she walked away.” And with a smirk Percy turned away from the furiously blushing, and thoroughly mortified detective.

Montoya tuned out the rest of the conversation between Percy and the receptionist, her mind instead choosing to latch onto a little nugget of information Percy had dropped during the conversation. As they were being escorted by a member of maintenance to the room, her brain had reset enough for her to ask, “Wait when you said Lois, you didn’t mean Lois Lane did you?”

Percy just looked down at her, an amused expression on his face, “Well yeah. Know any other hot-headed reporters who get into too much trouble for their own good?” he asked,

Montoya’s mouth worked soundlessly, as she tried to catch up with the flow of the conversation. “You cannot possibly be suggesting that slept with Lois Lane?” she blurted out before her brain could stop her mouth,

“Woah!” Percy exclaimed, “Don’t go putting words in my mouth Montoya, I just compared you to her is all.”

“But you do know her?” she pressed as the stepped into the elevator,

Percy shrugged, “Yeah.” he said simply, like the fact that he was on a first-name basis with a Pulitzer winner was no big deal, “I worked Major Crimes in Metropolis, she worked all the big stories for The Planet. Chances were, if I was called to a scene then she would be there shortly thereafter. She interviewed me a few times; even went out for drinks with her and Jimmy, her camera guy, a few times. Pretty sure they were just trying to grill me for case notes, but still.”

“I literally cannot believe what I’m hearing right now,” Montoya muttered,

She was spared from having to think anymore as they arrived at the penthouse suite. The elevator opened up into a short hallway with a single door. The maintenance worker inserted a master key card into the lock and the door unlocked, pushing the door open slightly, Percy immediately reached into his shoulder holster and withdrew his pistol.

It looked as though a tornado had flown through the room. Tables, chairs, and the sofa were upended, cushions were strewn across the floor, and drawers were open, their contents thrown carelessly onto the ground. Montoya pushed into the room, first, her weapon drawn as well, and Percy followed behind her, gently shoving the hotel worker out of the way as he did so.

Montoya veered to the right, heading towards the kitchen area and Percy moved left, sweeping to clear the bedrooms. He stepped carefully, doing his best to preserve the scene as he could. Percy knew they weren’t likely to find anyone still in the room, but it was better to safe than sorry in an instance like this. Moving into the first bedroom, he cleared his flank first, checking behind the door before doing another visual sweep, but coming up short.

“First bedroom clear,” he said loudly,

“Kitchen clear,” was the response

Moving out of the room, Percy cleared into the second bedroom, a quick perimeter sweep cleared it as well. He re-holstered his weapon and convened with Montoya in the living room. “This couldn’t have happened too long ago.” Percy said as he approached,

“Agreed,” said Montoya, “I’d wager my salary that this happened just after the murder.”

“Place this fancy has to have camera’s, right?” Percy said,

“If not in the halls, then there’s definitely some outside,” Montoya agreed,

“You just know, place like this, the manager is going to demand a warrant,” Percy added, sweeping an arm around the room for emphasis,

“Shouldn’t be a problem, we’ve got an in, in the District Attorney’s office,” Montoya said, nonchalantly,

Percy just shot her a skeptical look, “I’m not exactly up to speed on the political landscape of Gotham yet, who do we got in the DA’s office?”

Montoya just smirked as she headed towards the stairs, “The DA himself. Harvey Dent.”

BREAK

Sure enough, the high rise’s manager had demanded a warrant before he allowed Percy and Montoya to go searching through the video records of the previous night. Montoya said that it would be a sure thing and wasn’t worth worrying about. Apparently, the DA was a real hardass, a cop’s DA, willing to the extra mile if it meant getting a bad guy off the street. Montoya said that they’d likely have their warrant by the following morning.

The left the high rise as the forensics teams were moving in, it was likely that whatever was pulled out of the penthouse wouldn’t aid in the search for their killer, but Percy was willing to be that the forensics team would be able to find something to pin the bastard to the room when Percy and Montoya found him.

So they left the high rise and were pulling up along the curb just outside the townhouse rented by John Dorsett. They had barely made it out of the car before they were accosted by an older woman and a large golden retriever,

“Excuse me, are you with health department?” she asked,

“Not exactly,” said Percy, as he reached into his shirt to flash his badge, “GCPD, why, what’s going on?”

“Oh, even better,” the woman said, before pointing a gnarled finger at the townhouse, “I don’t know what he’s been doing in there, but that Dorsett is stinking up the entire neighborhood.” she said bitterly, “Every morning I wake up and try to take Frederick out for his morning walk, but that place stinks so badly that he doesn’t even want to leave the house!” the dog chose that moment to whine, as if in agreement with his owner’s agitation.

“What kind of a smell?” Montoya asked,

“Like something’s rotting in there, like an animal or something!”

Percy and Montoya shared a worried glance, “Don’t worry ma’am, we’ll take care of it.” he said and before the woman could respond, he and Montoya took off across the street. They were barely on the steps before the smell hit them, “Holy shit,” Percy said, one hand immediately reaching down to pull his undershirt over his mouth and nose while the other reached into his holster and drew his gun for the second time that day.

“I really hate that friggin smell,” Montoya agreed, “But I’m pretty damn sure that qualifies as probable cause for a search,” she said, her voice muffled by her own shirt. Percy grunted in agreement, before leaning back, and kicking the door in. He was a little overzealous and damn near knocked the door off its hinges, and it slammed loudly into the wall in the entrance way.

Ignoring it for the time being, Percy took point, shouting, “GCPD, Mister Dorsett, are you in here?” There was no response. So they trekked deeper into the home. Walking passed the stairs leading to the second floor, the pair moved into the kitchen, but nothing was amiss. It looked as though it hadn’t been used in some time, but apart from that, there was nothing overly suspicious. The same could be said about the living room. Turning around, Percy led point back down, Percy moved slowly and deliberately down the hall and up the stairs. The smell on the second floor was almost unbearable.

Powering through it by holding his breath, Percy approached the door to the master bedroom. It was slightly ajar, and he could hear a buzzing sound from beneath the boards of the door. Glancing at his partner, who nodded at him, Percy pushed the door open and nearly gagged on the spot, as the smell of rank and rot, permeated his sinuses.

The room was remarkably untouched. The bed was made, the television was off, and nothing was out of place. Save for the dead body on the floor. The body with three bullet holes in it, two in the back, and one in the back of the head.

Small caliber.

A second victim.

BREAK

They had to pull the forensics unit from the penthouse and bring them over to the townhouse, leaving only patrol units back over at the penthouse. Percy and Montoya had spent the better half of the afternoon conducting interviews with the members of the community, but nobody could recall seeing or hearing anything suspicious in the last week from the Dorsett house. That was, until Montoya interviewed Stanley Winters.

Montoya learned that at roughly one in the morning last week, Winter’s had been coming home from an overseas trip to London. His plane had landed late and had just been pulling into the driveway when he saw the car. He had thought it was suspicious, everyone in the village knew of everyone else’s business, being so close together and all, and he thought it odd that Dorsett would be taking his company car out so late.

But he had been too tired from the travel to think anything of it. A quick look into the parking garage was enough to confirm the story; John Dorsett’s car was missing. While Montoya was going over a search report with a few patrol officers, Percy put in a call for an APB on the large, black, utility vehicle. He also called the chauffeur company, in the hopes that they had a LoJack installed.

Unfortunately for the detectives, Ganteer’s Chauffeuring required employees to supply their own vehicles and Dorsett did not have a LoJack installed. Knowing there would be little else for them to do until the forensics lab came back with something for them, and with it being nearly four o’clock in the afternoon, Percy and Montoya left the scene in the hopes of getting some of their paper work finished.

Percy had watched a lot of Law and Order as a kid. It had been exciting and fun and gross, all things that growing young boys loved in their television. Unfortunately, as Percy found out after graduating the academy, his favorite show as a child had not prepared him for the amount of paperwork required and the number of reports that needed to be written up. After literally anything he did, Percy needed to fill out a detailed report, explaining exactly what happened, who was there, what was done and by whom.

He understood why, detailed case files and reports ensured that policy was followed properly and it ensured to the government that Percy was actually doing what he was being payed to do. It was boring as hell though and he hated it. It didn’t help that he usually got distracted halfway through and lost interest. He had a prescription to help but he hated taking the medicine, it dulled his senses far too much for him to like, and for someone like Percy, dulled senses usually led to death. Either by the person he was investigating or something…else.

Unfortunately for Percy, or fortunately depending on the perspective, he didn’t even get a chance to start the looming mountain of paperwork he needed to get done. The second he and Montoya stepped into the bullpen, the door to the lieutenant’s office was swing open. “Jackson,” roared lieutenant Davis Winston, a man in his early forties, with thinning gray hair and wrinkles. “Get in here, now!”

“The hell did I do?” Percy muttered as he changed his direction from his desk to the precinct commander’s office.

Montoya shrugged, “I have no idea,” she murmured back, as she watched the lieutenant warily. Winston was on the long list of commanding personnel in the GCPD who were suspected of being on the take. Winston and his family had long historic ties to the Falcone crime family, and while Winston himself seemingly had no record with the mob, Commissioner Gordon had him marked as a suspect. Not that Percy knew that. Nor did he know that damn near half the precinct was currently being investigated by Internal Affairs for supposedly being on the Falcone payroll.

Moving into the office, lieutenant Winston glaring at him the whole way, the door was slammed behind him. However, Percy and Winston were not alone in the office. Facing the lieutenant’s desk was an older man, with deep brown hair and bushy mustache. His hands were in his pockets, pushing back the folds of the tan trench-coat across his shoulders, as he read an open file on the desk.

“Detective Jackson-” the lieutenant was cut off by the man at the desk,

“Give us the room, lieutenant,” said the man,

“Sir?” he asked confused, but the man just stared at him. Gulping, he just nodded reluctantly and left the room, leaving Percy alone with the unknown.

For a moment, the stranger just stared at Percy, his gray eyes gauging Percy behind his thick rimmed glasses. After an uncomfortable amount of time passed, with seemingly neither party willing to give in to the little power play they were having, apparently the bespectacled man had enough.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, his voice was gruff, and authoritative.

“No sir, I do not.” Percy replied,

“Commissioner James Gordon,” He said, by way of introduction, and Percy balked at that. He supposed that he should have known or at least recognized the man who was ultimately his boss, however Percy had been in a bit of a daze during his transfer, and having never met the man, had never actually done any research into his new commanding officer. It had been a mistake on Percy’s part, but he had been grieving and more than a little lost. Desperate to get out of the bad situation in Metropolis and had just jumped at the opportunity presented to him by Commissioner Corporon without a second thought.

“Pleasure to meet you sir,” Percy said, extending a hand out to the Commissioner, but the man just continued to stare at him.

“You know why I’m here, son?” Gordon asked,

Retracting his hand Percy shook his head, “Um, no sir, no I do not.”

The man nodded, as though that was what he was suspecting, “I figured as much,” he said, “This morning, you interviewed a pair of students at Gotham Academy?” he asked, though Percy felt it was more of a statement,

“Yes sir,” he nodded, “A miss Bette Kane and Barbara…Gordon…Oh shit,”

The commissioner had the nerve to smirk at him, “Eloquently put detective,” he said, before he leaned forward over the desk, resting his hands on the mahogany top, “Imagine my surprise when, just a few hours ago, I get a phone call from my daughter’s school. They tell me that not only has one of my daughter’s friends been murdered, but that a pair of detectives, MY detectives,” he stressed, “Had been interviewing not only members of the staff, not just students, but my own daughter.”

His eyes narrowed into slits, “Mind explaining to me why the hell you were interrogating my daughter?” he growled.

Now Percy had been chewed out before, especially during his time in the service and even worse so when he was in the Legion. He was a bit of a smartass so it came with the territory. So, this was not the first time he had been faced with a supremely pissed off C.O. That being said, given the individuals, divine and otherwise, that Percy had managed to piss off over the years, he just could not bring himself to be all that intimidated by the Commissioner’s glare. And so, he projected that front in his own posture, he remained relaxed, and calm.

After all, he hadn’t done anything incorrectly, and the girl wasn’t a suspect, she had freely volunteered to answer his questions. Hell, because it wasn’t a formal interview, he wasn’t even required to ensure she had legal supervision. So, Percy knew that he had no done anything wrong, and that this was the effort of a man concerned for the well-being and safety of his daughter. Percy could respect that, even if it was annoying as all hell.

With that in mind, he straightened his back and turned on what his boys in the teams called his, “leader-face,” which was essentially just an icy cold glare. He wasn’t one to be intimidated, even by his own boss. “With all due respect sir, it was not an interrogation. During the course of our investigation, we were led to believe that the victim attended Gotham Academy. We followed the process which led me to the two best-friends known to our victim. I simply did what we are trained to do, I inquired about the relationship they had to our victim. I also attempted to determine if they had any knowledge which could have proven useful to our investigation. It was not an interrogation. Neither Miss Gordon or Miss Kane are suspects. If you have a problem with how I handled things than please, let’s not beat around the bush and play pretend.”

Gordon just stared at him for a minute, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Finally, his scowl turned into a smirk, and he began to chuckle. A deep, rumbling sound, like the motor of a vintage car. “You got spunk kid. Better yet, you’re not easily intimidated, that’s good, lord knows we need more of that around here.” he said, stepping out from behind his desk to approach Percy.

This time, he was the one to initiate the handshake, to which Percy did accept. “Sorry for the third-degree son, but where my little girl is concerned, I tend to lose my judgement. Just wanted to make sure she was telling the truth about you,” he said, releasing Percy’s firm grip.

“Sir?” Percy asked,

“I called her, just after I got off with the school. She had nothing but good things to say about the, quote: “cute, new detective,” told me he was nothing but professional, courteous, and sympathetic. That he even gave her and Miss Kane his personal number to call for help, and the number of a VERY well accredited grief counselor in Metropolis.” he added, with an eyebrow raise, as though asking a question.

“I helped her with a missing person’s case when I was still on the beat,” Percy answered the unasked question.

Gordon nodded, “However, I need you to understand something here,” he said, the stern look coming back over his hard features, “The St. Clouds are a very influential family, almost as active in the community as Wayne is. That their kid was murdered in an alleyway is going to be big news. I’ve been on and off the phone with the mayor all damn day about this.” he grumbled, shoving his hands back into his pockets, “This case is taking a priority until it’s solved, you and Montoya are not to take on any new cases until you have this thing wrapped up in a pretty pink ribbon for us.”

Percy nodded, though he wasn’t exactly happy about it. Not to disparage the dead, but it seemed wrong for him and Montoya to ignore any other potential cases to work this one, just because the girl’s family was politically powerful. It wasn’t something he hadn’t had to deal with before, but it still couldn’t stop Percy from hating the situation. Money made things move, and in a town like Gotham, that was doubly true.

Gordon clearly saw Percy’s grimace and sighed in understanding, “Look son, I get it, believe me I do. Wasn’t that long ago that I was in your shoes. I don’t like this any more than you do but you know how these things go and to Mayor Hill, reputation is everything.” He looked down for a second before meeting Percy’s eyes again, “So I need to know where you are so far with the case,”

Percy nodded, before he proceeded to fill the commissioner in on what had been happening so far with the investigation, when he was done with his oral report Gordon was silent. “Alright, I’ll check with the forensics lab, in person, and put a press on them to get your case to the front of the line. You should have what you need in the morning. I’ll also give Dent a call, see if he can help expedite a warrant on the hotel, that shouldn’t be a problem but a little pressure on the right judge will go a long way towards making all of this happen a little faster. In the meantime, I want you and Renee to focus on finding that car, and figuring out who the hell was driving that little girl around for the last week.”

Percy nodded, “I’ll check back in with the chauffeur company, see if they had any kind of records on where they were going on a daily basis, and I’ll see if anyone at the hotel saw anything.”

Gordon nodded appreciatively, “Do that, any luck on getting in touch with the parents?”

Percy shook his head, “Not yet, I was going to try again, with the time change, it should be about mid-day over there and hopefully I might be able to get ahold of one of them. I left about seven messages this morning.”

Gordon hummed in thought, “You let them know it was about their daughter?”

Percy nodded, “Yessir, at this point it feels like they’re deliberately dodging my calls.”

Gordon quirked a brow, “Think they had something to do with it?” he asked,

Percy shrugged, “I try not to apply motive or speculation to something until I have all of the facts.”

Gordon grunted in agreement, “Good man, you start applying theories to the crime and you begin to try warping and twisting the narrative to fit your theory.” Gordon was quiet for a few seconds before he nodded at the door, “All right detective, that’ll be everything for now. But I want updates on all of this, progress reports once a day until we find the son of a bitch that did this.”

Percy nodded in agreement, “All right Jackson, you’re dismissed, and send Renee in after ya, I need to have a word with her too.”

“Pleasure to meet you sir,” Percy said as he opened the door to the office and stepped back out into the bullpen. He caught sight of the lieutenant, staring at him from his place perched against Cavallo’s cubicle, but Percy ignored him. Walking back over to his own station, he sat down, tapping his partner on the shoulder,

“You still employed?” Montoya asked, not looking up from her work,

Percy just glared jokingly at her, “Yes, I am.” he said, “Thanks for the heads up about Gordon’s kid by the way, good looking out.” she just looked up and smirked at him. Percy rolled his eye before jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the office, “Your turn,” he said, and Montoya looked at him confused, before glancing around Percy at the office.

“What about?” she asked warily and Percy shrugged, “Not sure, probably just wants to talk over the case with you.”

She just shot him a look before getting up from her station and making her way to the office, not willing to not have the last comment, Percy said back to her, “Or maybe he wants to grill you over your lack of partner loyalty.” He grinned cheekily when she flipped him off in response. Taking his sport coat off, he flung it over the back of chair and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up, pulling the stack of paperwork closer to him.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter 4: Making Friends

Groaning, Percy leaned back in his chair, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He had been staring at paperwork for the last three hours, and while he had put s serious dent in it, there was still a stack left to be done. Next to him, he heard his partner groan and begin shuffling papers of her own. Seeing her stand up, he asked,

“You calling it?”

She nodded, checking her watch, “I got a date in half an hour and honestly,” she looked banefully at the stack of papers and reports, “We can get the rest of this taken care of in the morning.”

Percy nodded, “I uh, I think I’m going to stick around for a few minutes, try and hammer through the penthouse papers before I turn in. Meet up for breakfast tomorrow? Establish a battle plan?” he asked,

She nodded and smiled, “There’s a cop diner a block from here called Mulley’s, be there at seven?”

“Sounds good,” he smiled back, turning back to his paperwork, “And have fun tonight, don’t do anyone I wouldn’t”

“Don’t you mean anything?” she laughed over shoulder,

“I know what I said,” he shot back, and her laugh carried her out of the station.

He only lasted another thirty minutes before he finally had to call it in. Checking his watch, he got up, collected his things before shutting his monitor and station light off. Stopping briefly at the station desk he greeted the night-shift sergeant, “Hey there,” he said, extending a hand out and briefly shaking the woman’s hand, “Detective Percy Jackson, I just transferred in from Metropolis.”

The sergeant, a pretty redhead with deep green eyes and a sporting of freckles, smiled back at him, “Officer Mullens, pleasure to meet you detective,”

He retracted his hand of shake and waved a hand vaguely behind him, “So this is literally my first day in Gotham and I’m still trying to get a lay of the land so to speak, any good gyms in the area?” he asked, he’d had to make do with his apartment’s gym that morning and the facility hadn’t had any free weights or bags. While he was never one to shirk off his cardio, running alone wouldn’t keep him in fighting shape.

She frowned in thought and sat back a little in her chair, “Closest is ‘hard knocks’ but um…you probably want to stay away from there,” she said thoughtfully, furrowing his brow Percy asked why and the Mullens grew a little sheepish, “They’re not the friendliest towards us blue backs.” she said, “Oh, but Wildcat Gym is just a few blocks from here. My father is a friend of Ted’s, the owner, he’s good people. Former boxer, has a good setup, just let him know I sent you, he’ll hook you up.” she said, smiling brightly,

Percy flashed her a charming smile, “Thanks officer-”

“Anna” she cut across him, blushing slightly,

Chuckling, Percy amended, “Thanks Anna, I appreciate it.” he tapped her desk and turned around, “Have a good night,”

“Good night detective,” she called out,

Percy smiled over his shoulder, “My friends call me Percy,” and he opened the door to the cool autumn evening.

BREAK

The gym was a little run down, an older building built into the lower level of an older and vacated office building. Percy hoisted his gym bag a little higher onto his shoulder as he stepped in. There was a small desk in what was supposed to be a pseudo waiting area. There was an older man behind the counter, in his late sixties with patchwork graying hair, and a spattering of facial hair. Looking down at his arms, Percy caught sight of the globe shaped tattoo on the man’s forearm,

He was slouched back in his chair, mouth agape, and snoring lightly with a copy of ‘Military Heritage’, propped up in his lap. Smirking, Percy slouched against the counter. Raising his hand he slammed it heavily against the counter. The loud smack jerked the aging man out of his sleep. Choking lightly on his own spit, he sat upright sputtering.

“Getting some rack in, old-timer?” he asked cheekily, placing an elbow on the desk.

The man just glared at him, “Something I can help you with, you uppity little shit.” the man asked, glowering as he restated himself,

Percy just laughed, “Relax jarhead, I’m just teasing you. I just moved into the city and the gym at my apartment leaves a lot to be desired. I asked around the office and Anna Mullens suggested this place; told me you knew your shit.”

A happy smile spread across the older man’s face, the creases along his forehead relaxing as he did so, “Oh, little Annie,” he said fondly, “You’re a cop then,” he said as he stared at Percy, before his gaze drifted downward at the small tattoo on the underside of Percy’s wrist. The man’s eyes narrowed in thought for a moment before they lit up in recognition. Looking back up at Percy with a new understanding in his eyes, he reached out a hand, “Staff Sergeant Ted Grant, Marines.” he said,

Gripping the man’s hand tightly, Percy smiled back at him knowingly, “Chief Petty Officer Percy Jackson, Navy.”

“How long were you in, Frogman?” and Percy raised a brow at the slang,

“Four tours.” he said simply, “You?”

“I was in from ’68-73’, Vietnam.” Ted said,

“That was some terrible business,” Percy remarked,

“That it was, but I didn’t have much of a choice, got drafted out of high school. Why’d you sign up?” Ted asked,

Percy shrugged, a flurry of emotions passing over him as he became awash in memory, “I was…lost for a while; a ship without a rudder you know, just kind of sitting around not doing anything. Happened to have a run in with a recruiter; one thing led to another and I found myself on the way to Coronado for BUD/S.” Percy paused, looking down at his feet as he avoided Ted’s gaze, “I found purpose in what I was doing you know? When I was over there, I don’t know it was just like…” he trailed off, unsure how to explain it,

“It was like life became simpler right?” Ted supplied, and Percy looked up at him, “Over there, it’s just you and your buddies. You don’t have to worry about rent, or gossip or any of the other bull shit drama that comes with civilian life. It all just becomes you and your buddies, and making sure everyone comes home with as many pieces as they got there with.”

Percy nodded at him, “Yeah…something like that.” Percy said, and they lapsed into companionable silence for a bit, both men equally lost in their own memories. Finally, Percy asked, “How’d you know I was in the Teams?” he asked,

Ted just pointed at Percy’s tattoo, a little red seal splashing in the water, “I ran around with some UDT boys in the bush. Some real cowboys.”

Percy just chuckled, “Not a lot has changed if I’m honest,”

Ted joined in the laughter, “I would sure as hell hope not,” he jerked a thumb over to the gym, pointing over to a doorway just passed the desk, “Lockers are through there, weights are behind the ring.” he said, gesturing to each location as he spoke, bags are around the corner and if you want to use the ring just let me know.”

Percy just nodded to the man, before inquiring about price for a membership, “twenty-five bucks a month or two fifty for the year.”

Percy quirked an eyebrow, “I know math isn’t exactly paramount for jarheads but just so you know, twenty-five times twelve is three hundred.”

Ted just glared at him, but there was no heat behind it. “If you must know smartass, that two-fifty is going to more than cover the cost of keeping things moving in here. Just consider it an incentive to give me the cash up front, rather than paying it monthly. Most gyms do it.”

Percy just laughed as he fished his wallet out, He slapped three hundred’s on the desk, “For the year-long membership,” he said, before he grabbed another two hundred and laid it next to the other bills,

Ted eyed the bills, before he eyed Percy, “Now who’s bad at math?” he asked, not touching the money.

Percy just stared at him, “Consider it a tip.” Percy said, his tone becoming a little more serious, “In case your eyesight starts go a little,” Ted was thoroughly confused by that statement so Percy explained, “You’re getting up there old timer, eyes aren’t quite what they used to be. So if you see me lifting a lot more weight than should be possible…” he trailed off and understanding flashed through the older man’s eyes, along with an undercurrent of something else.

Nodding slightly, the veteran picked the cash off the table, before stuffing it in a drawer below the desk, “That’s right son, forgot for a second. Memory must be going too.” He eyed Percy seriously and nodded in understanding at the young man, “Along with my eyesight.”

Percy just smiled before tapping the desk, and turning towards the locker room.

Changing out of his work clothes, Percy threw on a pair of gym shorts and a sleeveless hoodie. Pulling on an armband to his bicep, he slipped his phone into the sleeve and popped his earbuds in. Cranking his music, Percy walked back out of the locker room and headed towards the free weights in the back, fully intending to vent his frustrations on the case through the workout.

BREAK

“Why are we here again?” Artemis groaned, as she lugged her gym bag over her shoulder.

Dinah just gave her a reassuring smile, “Is it so wrong that I wanted to spend some time with you?” she asked, as she threw an arm around the younger girl’s shoulders. “There’s been a lot of testosterone being thrown around the cave recently and I just figured that, you know, some girl time would do you some good.”

Artemis gave her a skeptical look, “Then why isn’t M’gann here?” she asked,

Dinah adopted a bit of a sheepish expression as the pair crossed across the fairly empty street, “She’s very sweet but, um…” she trailed off, not quite sure how to say what she was thinking.

“She’s getting on your nerves, isn’t she?” Artemis asked, she was feeling the same way. She loved the girl, she was nice and had been more than welcoming which was more than Artemis could say for other members of their little team, but the Martian had a bad habit of hovering. Figuratively, not literally. Sometimes Artemis just wanted to spend some time alone training but with M’gann…everything had to be a bonding experience.

It was getting a little exhausting, and truth be told, Artemis was actually kind of thankful to be getting out of the cave.

“Not the word I would use.” Dinah said as they stepped up onto the sidewalk and began walking down towards the old gym, “But if I have to listen her mix for her tryout one more time, I think I might break the cave’s sound system.”

Artemis laughed, her friend had been getting ready for a tryout for the Happy Harbor High School cheerleading team and was spending an inordinate amount of time practicing her routine in the training space. Which meant she had been playing the tryout music in the cave at every available moment, every day, for the last eight days.

If Artemis never heard those songs again for the rest of her life, it would be too soon.

“And besides,” Dinah was saying, “After everything that has been happening with Red and the team…” she trailed off for a second as she tried to find the right words, “I just figured that you might need a bit of an escape is all. Just some time away, you know, just us ladies.”

This time, Artemis looked away. Things with the team had been better after that whole fiasco with the brain in a jar. But things were still pretty tense around the cave. They didn’t know what was going on with Red Tornado or with the other androids, and Artemis was still feeling shaky around her teammates. She had just been starting to trust them when Aqualad dropped that bombshell about the mole. Instead of addressing these issues, Artemis deflected the conversation.

“Still doesn’t explain why we had to come all the way to Gotham.” she probed her older instructor, “Don’t you live in Star City?”

Dinah’s features hardened a bit, “Not at the moment,” she said shortly, and the tone of her voice indicated that she would prefer it if the matter was dropped. But Artemis wasn’t about to do that. Whatever was going on there, sounded good, so she probed a little more,

“Trouble in paradise with my…uncle?” she asked, a little too innocently because Dinah just glared at her,

“Not that it’s any business of you kids,” and she stressed the kids because Dinah knew that it pissed off all of the teenagers when the older leaguers brought up their ages as a talking point, “But Oliver and I are having a bit of a rough patch right now.” She scowled and her grip on Artemis’ shoulder tightened. But the moment passed quickly and the older woman blew out an annoyed sigh, “But, what better way to vent frustrations, than by hitting things. Specifically, you trying to hit me.”

Stopping short in front of an old office building, Dinah pulled the door open, and ushered the young archer before she could say anything in protest.

“Ted, you old bat, you better not be sleeping at the desk again.” Dinah announced loudly as she walked in behind Artemis.

There was some loud laughter from behind the desk before Ted Grant stood up from his seat to pull his wayward pupil into a tight hug that she gladly returned.

“What the hell are you doin’ back in Gotham little bird?” Ted said pulling away from her and leaning back against the desk. Then his eyes darted to Artemis and he quirked a quizzical brow, “You uh…taking on a new partner?” he asked warily, trying to dance around the topic of his pseudo-daughter’s other profession.

Dinah laughed, before shaking her head, “It’s ok Ted, she one of us. And to answer your question, no, she’s not mine. The league has-” she was cut off quickly as Ted shushed her, before pointing surreptitiously with a finger to the back corner of the gym. Dinah and Artemis both quickly glanced over to see a man in his late-twenties deadlifting an absurd amount of weight. There had to be at least eight or nine plates on each side of the bar. Which should have been impossible for an ordinary person to lift.

Although, judging by the sheer size of the man, perhaps not. Dinah’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Ted was quick to assuage her concerns. “I already checked,” he said quietly, “He’s not in any database as a known bad guy, or a hero. But still…” he trailed off and Dinah nodded her head, filing the information away to talk with her former teacher again later.

“Right…” she said softly, looking back over at the man, who was in the process of completing his next set. Blinking twice in rapid succession, Dinah activated the camera in the league issued surveillance contacts she took to wearing at all times. Selecting the camera function, she snapped off a few quick photos to run against the league database at a later time.

Turning the camera off, she turned her attention back to Ted, speaking more quietly this time, she said, “The league has started a covert operations team. Most the leaguer’s partners are involved. This is Arrow’s new protege.”

Ted raised an eyebrow at the cold way she regarded her boyfriend, but didn’t say anything. He knew better by now. Walking over to the younger girl, he reached out a hand, “Ted Grant,” he said by way of introduction, “Any friend of Dinah’s is a friend of mine.”

Artemis paused for second, looking over to Dinah who nodded reassuringly at her, before gripping the man’s hand. “Artemis,” she said simply, purposefully leaving out her surname. If this guy was a cape, she didn’t want to give anything away about her family history.

Dinah put a hand on the large man’s broad shoulder and smiled happily at him, “Ted here taught me everything I know.” she said, a look of nostalgic happiness on her face,

Ted had the decency to blush and rub shyly at the back of his neck, “I don’t know about everything,” he said, coughing slightly to distract from his coloring cheeks, “You were a quick study.”

Dinah looked like she wanted to contradict that information, but was cut off by another male voice, “Look at you Jarhead, making friends.” Both Artemis and Dinah turned to look at the speaker, and Artemis’ mouth dropped open in shock. Walking towards them, sweat gleaming off his face and forearms, was the detective that had interviewed Barbara and Bette earlier that day.

“You?” she blurted out before she could stop herself, and then blushed as all three adults turned to look at her.

“Huh?” the detective said, looking at her a moment, before smiling, “Artemis right?” he asked, and she nodded dumbly, blushing at her outburst, spite of herself. The man took pity on her though and smiled gently, “How are miss Gordon and Miss Kane doing?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest,

She averted her eyes, mostly because when he crossed his arms like that it defined his torso in a very distracting way and her raging hormones were raising hell. “Fine” she said, “Their parents picked them up after they were taken to counselors office, they were gone the rest of the day,” and ok, maybe she was a little bitter that her only friends in that damn school had abandoned her.

Not that she could blame them really, their friend had died.

Her sorrow must have shown on her face because the detective frowned as well, before he tried to lighten the mood, “Well,” he said, a grin on his face, “Since I’ve got you here, I have a bone to pick with you little lady,” she turned, her eyes widening in shock, and Dinah and Ted subtly began positioning themselves for an intercept if things suddenly got a little too real.

The man didn’t pay them any mind, instead he just glared at her, and Artemis’ fingers began to inch closer to the opening of her bag where she had a loaded crossbow waiting. Dinah’s shoulder’s tightened and her leg muscles flexed in preparation for a fight, while Ted’s fingers cracked as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

Then, as quickly as the tension appeared, the detective smiled cheekily and Artemis felt herself visibly relax, along with the other two heroes.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me that Barbara was the commissioner’s daughter?” he asked, raising his hands in an exasperated display of frustration. “He was waiting for me back at the precinct and I thought he was going to tear me to pieces!”

Artemis just looked at the man in incredulity, “How could you not know you were talking to your bosses kid.”

The man just laughed nervously as he sheepishly rubbed at spot behind his ear, “Yeah, uh, I probably should have known that but still!”

“You been harassing kids frogman?” Ted snarked,

Dinah and Artemis shared a look, ‘Frogman’ the older woman mouthed at the archer, who just shrugged, equally as confused,

“Cute.” he shot back, “No, work.” His expression grew somber, “Homicide last night. The victim was a student at the school so my partner and I were there to interview some of the students.”

“Oh, so you’re a detective?” Dinah asked, and Percy turned to her,

“Yeah,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand, “Percy Jackson, GCPD Major Crimes Division.” he said with a smile.

Dinah returned the gesture with a charming smile of her own, “Dinah Lance,” she said, gripping his hand tightly, “Nice to meet you.”

There was an awkward moment, where neither party released the other’s hand. They just stood there, smiling at one another. Artemis, brow quirked, met Ted’s equally amused look. After another moment, Ted finally coughed into his hand and both Percy and Dinah released their grip, both blushing lightly.

“Was there something you needed kid? Or are you just here to flirt with my customers?” Ted asked, making an effort to hide his amusement and failing terribly. It took all of his concerted willpower not to laugh when Dinah’s head snapped over to him, a glare to freeze hell over painting her expression.

Percy, looking equally embarrassed, quickly got to his reason for approaching the desk, “R-right, um I was just uh,” he coughed into his hand a little in order to recompose himself, “Uh…do you have any chains I can use?”

“Ah” Ted said in understanding, before over to a supply closet behind the group. He spent a few seconds rummaging around before he closed the door, an old worn chain in his hands. “Here you go,” he said, passing the item over to the detective, “Just return it before you leave,”

Percy just nodded and turned to go, pausing a little to look back at Artemis and Dinah, though his gaze did linger on Dinah longer than it did on Artemis, “Have a good one, ladies.” he said, before he walked back to the free weights in the back.

Artemis watched him go, and then turned back to Dinah. Except the cave den mother wasn’t looking at her, she watching Percy leave. She tried to cough to get her attention. That didn’t work, so she jabbed the woman, hard, in the side.

The heroine yelped, more in surprise than in pain, and turned a glare at the smaller woman. Artemis matched the glare with one her own, “Are we going to train, or are we just going to stare at the detective’s, admittedly very nice, ass?”

Dinah just glared at her, “Just change and get in the damn ring,”

Ted’s laughter followed Artemis’ smirking face into the woman’s locker room.

When the girl was gone, Dinah turned her attention back to Ted, gesturing with her head in the direction of Percy, she asked, “You ever see him before?”

Ted shook his head, “Could be a coincidence, he does work at the one-seven and I know for a fact that the girl he said recommended my gym is the desk sergeant at that precinct. We could be worried over nothing…” he trailed off, his own gaze flickering over to the man in question, who was in the process of fitting several large weights into slots in the chains.

“However,” Ted said, drawing Dinah’s attention back to him, “even for a man his size, he should not be able to put up the kind of weight that he is putting up. He even went out of his way to bribe me out of mentioning that to anyone. Slipped me an extra two hundred to keep my mouth shut about him putting up inhuman weight.”

“I’ll make some calls, see if I can’t figure something out.”

Ted just smirked at her, “If you’re looking for an excuse to hang around him little birdie, try finding something a bit better than that,”

Dinah just rolled her eyes, and flipped him a little bird of her own before following her student into the lockers.

BREAK

Percy released another grunt as he pulled himself back up to level with the bar. The chain around his waist jingling slightly as he did so, and the two pairs of forty-five pound weights tapped against his thighs. Holding his position at the bar another several seconds, he lowered himself back down, and repeated the process another four times, before gently lowering himself back down to the ground.

Bending over, hands on his knees, Percy tried to catch his breath. Pulling up the bottom of his hoodie, he dabbed at his face to relieve the excess of sweat. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he untied the chains around his waist, before dropping the added weight to the floor. He replaced the weights from where he had taken them, before collapsing down on a nearby weight bench with a groan. Reaching down, he grabbed hold of his gallon jug of water, and proceeded to drink half of the contents in one gulp.

In an instant, he felt reinvigorated, the soreness of his muscles began to dissipate, and he could literally feel the strength he had gained from his workout, pulse through him. Percy didn’t really need to exercise; his divine blood meant that he would retain a healthy physique his entire life. But it was relaxing, and therapeutic. Standing up, he moved to leave the gym and make his way back towards the locker room, when the spectacle in the boxing ring in the middle of the gym caught his attention.

With a grunt of pain and a cry of frustration, Percy watched as Artemis tried to close in on Dinah. She tried to move in with a series of quick jabs, but her movement, while precise and clean, was obvious to read. Dinah was able to easily dodge out of the way of the blows, catching an errant arm that had been aimed for her head. Dinah twist the arm, before dropping to a knee and sweeping the legs out from underneath the younger girl.

Despite the loss, Percy was impressed. Both women were incredibly skilled, much more so than the average kickboxer or mixed martial artist. While perhaps not that surprising for Dinah, she was about his age after all, it was surprising to see a sixteen-year old with that kind of speed, agility, flexibility, and combat training. Percy crossed his arms in thought, but decided to file the information away for later when Artemis’ annoyed shout cut across his thinking.

“Goddammit! What the hell am I doing wrong?” She shouted from her place on the mat.

Percy spoke up before his brain could stop his mouth, “You’re telegraphing.” he said, and both women turned their attention to him. Cursing his inability to keep his mouth shut, Percy resolutely kept his attention on Artemis, Dinah in a sports bra and training shorts was more than a little distracting at the moment.

“You’re telegraphing your punches.” He reiterated as he approached the side of the ring that Artemis was laying on.

Artemis narrowed her eyes at him, “Care to elaborate?”

Percy gestured to the ring, “May I?”

Artemis rolled her eyes but nodded anyways. Climbing up, Percy vaulted over the ropes and pulled Artemis to her feet. Gesturing to her, he said “Hit me.”

Artemis shared a nervous glance with Dinah, but Percy just rolled his eyes. “Listen Artemis, I spent most of my childhood getting tossed around rings, just like this one, I know how to take a punch so just hit me.”

“I’m not hitting a cop,”

“Oh please, what am I going to do? Arrest you? I am literally asking you to hit,”

“Pretty sure that doesn’t matter,”

“Stop being a baby and just hit me.”

Growling in annoyance, she snarled “Fine!” and looked at his right cheek, before cocking back and darting forward to punch him. She was definitely faster than anyone her age or even people twice her age had any right to be. But Percy still managed to duck under the incoming blow. As he ducked, he wrapped one large arm around her head and neck, while he tripped her with his forward foot. Following her momentum forward, Percy leveraged her so that she took the brunt of the blow. They collided in a heap on the floor, but Percy wasn’t done. Curling one of his legs around hers, he pinned the other with his free leg and brought his other arm up and around in a chokehold around Artemis’ head and neck.

He wasn’t actually applying any pressure, this was meant as a learning experience, but she would definitely be able to tell that his arms were there, and had her in a submission position. He tapped the side of her head, and he could practically feel her teeth grinding in agitation.

Smirking Percy stood up, and extended a hand to help her off the ground. But she just smacked it away and stood up on her own.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Percy asked, “So what did you do wrong?”

She growled, before she actually stomped her foot on the ground in agitation. Percy blinked, overwhelmed by a sense of nostalgia. But was quickly brought out of it when she roared, “I have no idea. You keep saying that I’m telegraphing my attacks but I don’t know what the hell that means.” Percy remained calm while she screamed. It wasn’t the first time some kid in training screamed at him; he was used to it.

“Ok, how about this. Where are you looking, before you strike?”

She rolled her eyes, but she answered, “Where I want to hit, where else would I look.”

Percy just nodded, “And that’s exactly what you’re doing wrong.”

That really threw her for a loop, so she looked behind her to Dinah for support but the woman was just smirking and nodding at her. “He’s right.” she said simply,

“That kind of thinking works fine against joe-schmo on the street, but if you ever fight someone who knows what they’re doing? They’re going beat your butt ten times out of ten when you’re doing something like that. And that’s just the big one. When you throw a punch coming right to left, you’re positioning your entire body in the direction you’re coming from, that tells me where I need to move in order to counter effectively.”

She just threw her hands into the air in annoyance, “What the hell does any of that mean?”

Percy just smiled, which seemed to annoy her even more, “Ok,” Percy said, trying to placate her, “Maintain eye-contact with your opponent, they can’t read your eyes if you’re constantly drawing their attention away. Furthermore, it’s distracting, and unnerving. For an untrained fighter, their instinct will be to look away, or divert their attention elsewhere, which gives you an opening, but more importantly you don’t leave yourself open.”

She just huffed in annoyance, “Why am I even listening to you? I’ve been fighting since I was a kid, there is nothing you could teach me that I don’t already know.”

Percy raised an eyebrow over her shoulder at the pretty blonde behind Artemis. Dinah just sighed and hid her face behind her hands. Shrugging Percy was about to respond, when his phone started to ring through his earbuds, giving Dinah one last friendly smile, he turned, pulling his earbuds out of his ear, and taking the phone out of its sleeve. Pulling it up, Percy couldn’t help but smile at the name he saw. Sliding a finger across the touch screen, Percy brought the phone up to his ear.

“Jimmy Olson, I’ve been trying to reach you all day. How ya been buddy?”

Notes:

Alright, so I’m going to address a few of the messages I’ve been getting; this story is very AU. Yes, Percy is a demigod. Yes he has his powers. Yes he will be using them. No, he won’t be a superhero. Yes, the events of the books did happen, in a manner of speaking. Yes the events of the books happened in the same world as the one Percy currently resides in. He’s not a dimensional traveler or a man out of time or anything like that. No, I will not be unloading all of that information all at once, that wouldn’t be fun for anyone. I’ve been piecemealing hints and teasing certain things about Percy’s history and what led up to where he is now but you will have to wait and see. All that being said, all of the feedback I’ve been getting has been great and I appreciate all of your support. This has probably been my favorite story to write, I just love the mystery genre in general and this has been fun to put together. Should have OP and SOS chapters out soon, HBP has been a bit of a bastard to get going but I promise it’s coming. Thanks again for all the love you guys. See you soon,

Love,
LilDB

Chapter 5: Different Perspectives

As soon as Percy was out of ear shot, Dinah turned a glare on her young student, “That was a little rude, don’t you think? He was only trying to help?”

Artemis snorted in derision, “Help? What could he possibly help me with,” she lowered her voice, “We’re freaking superheroes, he’s a cop, pretty sure I can take care of myself just fine,”

Dinah, who was no longer watching her student just said, “Didn’t stop him from knocking you flat on your ass though,” and she missed whatever Artemis’ comeback was going to be, as she hopped out of the ring and ran to her bag. She fished through quickly before she found what she was looking for, taking the earpiece out, she stuck it in her ear. Syncing it up with the lenses in her eyes, she synchronized with Wayne Tech satellites and got a patch into Percy’s side of the conversation he was having on the phone.

Was it an invasion of privacy? Absolutely. Should she be doing this? Absolutely not. But there was a lot about this mysterious man that was just not sitting right with her for whatever reason. For one, she found it suspicious that he just happened to wander into the one gym in all of Gotham that catered to heroes. For another, he had a run in with two of the young proteges for prominent leaguers. Batgirl and Artemis.

That, and if what Ted had been telling her was true, this guy was probably a meta, or at least enhanced in some way. Then there was the way he fought, it had been quick, but his single-handed smack down of Artemis spoke to training. She had seen the tattoos on his arms, and she recognized military ink when she saw it, John Stewart had similar designs and she had seen them on Ted before as well. But military training alone didn’t allow someone to counter someone who had not only been trained by former shadow operatives, but Green Arrow AND herself.

All in all, there was more to Percy Jackson than he was letting on and Dinah was going to figure out exactly who he was, and what he was doing in Gotham.

She heard the click in her ear as her earpiece connected, and she heard the man’s deep voice begin to rumble in her ear,

“Jimmy Olson, I’ve been trying to reach you all day. How ya been buddy?”

Jimmy Olson? Wasn’t that Clark’s photographer friend from the Planet? What the hell was Percy doing talking to him?

“That’s great to hear man! Hey listen, I’ve got a bone to pick with you, why the hell did you use that picture from the arms bust for the photo? I looked like I had spent the last three months living out of my car!”

Percy was laughing, and Dinah fought to ignore the slight tingling she got from the sound, focusing on the conversation,

“No, no man I’m only teasing you, believe me I am more than flattered that Lois decided to write a story on me. It was beautiful and did me way more justice than I deserve. Hey man, I appreciate that. No thank you, between you, me, and Lois, we made sure a lot of bad people got put away for good. Yes, yes the boy scout helped too. What do you mean pot meet kettle? Oh wow ok, I see how it goes, you know if we’re going to go down that road then I just might have to ring up that pretty girl down in the sports column and tell her about that night at Bigsies. Yeah that’s what I thought. So how’s Lois doing? I tried to get a hold of her earlier but I’d have better luck trying to track down Batman.

Lois? As in Lois Lane? As in Clark’s Lois? Just who the hell was this guy?

“Ah, well that makes sense, I’m pretty sure if she stopped working she’d take over the world so maybe it’s in everyone’s best interests. Yeah for sure man, well listen, unfortunately I didn’t just call to catch up, I need to pick your brain for a minute. Yeah, yeah, I picked up a case literally my first night here, didn’t have my GCPD badge or ID yet. Now you know the score, can’t talk to anyone about this yet, but you get a full run of the notes when this is over. Yes I realize this is Gotham and not Metropolis but this is going to be a big one, and I think you’re going to want to hear me out on this. Alright, what do you know about the St. Cloud family?”

There was silence as Dinah listened in on Percy. She could hear the rustling of clothing as the man changed and the occasional hum of agreement or acknowledgment but for the most part, the man was silent. After a little while, the man sighed in disappointment,

“So you don’t have anything for me then? No, no, I appreciate it man, we’re just banging our heads against the wall here and I was hoping I might get lucky and the girl’s parents were, I don’t know, caught in some kind of Eyes Wide Shut party with known mobsters. Yes I understand that I’m hopelessly optimistic, it’s one of my most redeeming qualities. Alright, well is there anyone you can think of in Gotham who might have some kind of beef with the St. Clouds, or even just might have known them? Wait, say that again, sorry I’m in the locker room and the reception’s kind of spotty. Selina Kyle? Why does that sound familiar?”

Dinah nearly choked on her spit. Either this man had terrible luck, or something else was going on. There was no other way he would be casually running into so many different capes. Then again, this was Gotham, most of the big players did run in similar circles.

“Oh that’s right. Wait why is she out of prison? Of-fucking-course, she did. Alright Jimmy, well thanks for the help man, I appreciate it. Next time you and Lois are in town, let me know, I’d love to meet up for a few drinks. Alright, you too buddy, take it easy,”

Dinah heard the connection end, and she pulled the communicator out of her ear. She sighed, that hadn’t answered anything, only that Percy Jackson was very shockingly well connected for a young detective. Still, something about the man was rubbing her as off. You didn’t just happen to run into this many people involved with the league by sheer bad luck. She wanted to run his name across the league database when she got back to the watchtower.

She was pulled from her thoughts when the man reemerged from the gym. He didn’t say anything but he did throw a wave in her direction before stopping back at the desk to speak with Ted. He passed over the chain he’d been using and laughed at something the older man said. With a wave goodbye to the gym owner, the strange detective left the building. Dinah ran a hand through her hair, she didn’t know what it was, but things didn’t add up around him, and she was going to figure it out.

As soon as she calmed down the still pissed off archer standing in the ring.

BREAK

Percy woke up early the following morning. He went for a quick run, before taking a shower, changing into one of the few clean dress shirts he had left, he put on his black sport coat and left to grab a table at the diner for him and Montoya. He had been scrambling to find an apartment when he got his transfer notice, and had ended up with an apartment almost thirty minutes away from his department, granted he hadn’t known what precinct he’d be in but still.

He found the diner without much difficulty, and was pleased to see that for the most part it was still empty. Despite having spent much of his youth in New York City, large groups of people in compact spaces made him nervous and so having the diner relatively empty would be a promising start to the day.

Pulling up to the curb, Percy parked the car at the furthest end of the street, parking far enough along where he could pull away unimpeded if the need should arise. Checking his watch, he saw that he was a bit early, about fifteen minutes, so he decided to just head in and snag a table.

The bell to the diner chimed lightly as Percy pushed through the door. The inside was about what he expected, a proto-typical diner, with booths and bar, and only a handful of pictures hanging on the wall. A sign by the door told him to seat himself, so Percy to a glance around before snagging a booth in the corner of the room, facing the entrance and backed up against a rear wall. Sliding into the booth, Percy chose the far side, so that he was looking at the door. Both as a precaution, and to make it easier for his partner to spot when she came in.

He had barely been in his seat for a minute before a waitress approached, a woman in her mid-thirties with dirty blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail, there was circles under her hazel eyes and in spite of the fact that she looked dead on her feet, she mustered a smile for the young detective.

“Morning hon,” she said, pulling out her pad “Can I get ya started on anything, coffee? Juice?”

“Coffee…” Percy said, pausing slightly to read the name on her tag, “Erika, please. And can I get another for the table too, I’m waiting on my partner.” She just smiled and nodded before heading off to the back. In a flash, the smell of roasted coffee beans was slid under his nose as Erika dropped off two large cups of piping hot coffee on the table.

“Someone’s on the ball this morning,” Percy said with a smile, thanking Erika as she pulled a pen and pad out of her apron.

“Someone around here has to be,” she responded with a little smirk, “Can I get you started on anything while you wait on your partner,”

Percy just shot her a bemused look, “I don’t know, I haven’t even had a chance to look at my menu yet,” he said before looking briefly down at the menu and making a quick decision, “Tell you what, what do you recommend, that’s heavy as hell.” Percy wasn’t going to mention just yet that, due to his divine bloodline, he had a rather advanced metabolism, he needed to ingest a hell of a lot of calories during a day just to stay healthy, and that wasn’t even counting what he needed to compensate for what he burned off during his workouts.

“Let me guess,” Erika started, a wry grin on her face, “You a cop?” she asked, a rather heavy Bostonian accent forcing its way into her voice,

In response, Percy just reached into shirt and pulled the chain holding his badge out to hang free on his chest.

Erika just nodded at him, “I know exactly what you need,” she said, writing something down and before point her pen at the empty seat across from Percy, “Know what your partner will be having?”

“Not a clue, if I say it’s Renee Montoya would that help at all?” he asked,

The waitress laughed at that, snapping her notebook closed, “I’ve got it covered officer. Be right back.”

Percy watched as she disappeared behind a door to the kitchen. Reaching out, he snagged hold of the coffee and pulled it closer. Then, he reached over to the back of the table and grabbed hold of the small bowl of flavored creamers. Percy wasn’t picky about what his coffee tasted like, so long as it didn’t taste like coffee, so he just grabbed five of the small containers, and began ripping the tops of and emptying the contents into his coffee. Stirring what could only be called Percy’s concoction, he watched as the inky black turned into a light brown.

Bringing it to his lips, he sighed in delight, it was garbage coffee, made only slightly better by the sugary mess he had dumped into it, and Percy loved it.

He placed the cup back on the table and reached down to his bag that Percy had placed on the ground. Opening it up, Percy retrieved his murderbook, and began leafing through some of his notes. He had spent most of his night yesterday, determining if he would be able to potentially have a sit-down with Selina Kyle. He had been in luck. Gotham was old, almost as old as New York, and that meant that much of Gotham’s elite comprised of old money. Families that had lived in Gotham for generations and held the lion’s share of the wealth; and if there was thing Percy knew about old money, it was that it loved to show off.

Apparently, Bruce Wayne had decided, spur of the moment, that he was going to throw a fundraiser event for some of the intercity school districts that were the most at risk. Certainly, a good cause, but Percy couldn’t help but scoff at the fact that Wayne apparently had the throw away money to just decide, overnight, to rent out the most prestigious art gallery in town and orchestrate an entire fundraising event.

What this meant for him and Montoya, was that if they were going to have an opportunity to try and meet and question Selina Kyle, this was likely going to be it. She was a prominent art collector when she wasn’t stealing high value artifacts, and since the fundraiser was an auction of several high-end pieces from the gallery’s reserves, Percy would bet his yearly salary she would be there.

There was a reason Percy was focusing so much on this angle. Percy normally didn’t like to speculate his cases, Roger, his first partner, had told him when he was still a junior detective, that when you started to speculate you start to shift the narrative. Essentially, it was a warning to wait until there were more facts present before you began working on a motive for a murder. Motive, was usually one of the last links put together during an investigation, because it was easy for an investigator to try and shift the facts and evidence to fit a certain narrative or pattern.

Percy was normally good about waiting until he at least the autopsy and initial forensics reports were done, but something that their lone witness in the alley had mentioned had stuck with him. Why, after he had shot the girl, did their guy lose his temper so badly that he kicked the corpse? Sure, he might have been pissed that she had kicked him in the balls, who wouldn’t be? But to not only kill the girl, but to disrespect the corpse in such a vile why spoke to something else, and that was before you factored in all of the other evidence.

Everything about this murder spoke to premeditation. It spoke to careful planning, but there was just something about all of this that didn’t seem right. Percy wasn’t convinced that the goal of the killer had been to only shoot young miss St. Cloud. If it had been, why not just take her out as she was leaving school? There were enough tall buildings around the block with an open view of the main courtyard and gate that anyone with even a simple hunting rifle, could probably make the shot. Then there was their dead driver. Why bother killing him, and assuming his position if he was just trying to kill the girl? No, something else was going on, he just couldn’t figure out what the hell it was.

The chiming of the bell at the front entrance drew Percy out of his thoughts, looking up he raised a lazy hand in the air and waved over his partner. She caught his wave, and wandered over, a smile on her face and a slight bounce in her step.

“Well,” Percy said, “It certainly looks like someone had a good night,”

Montoya just shrugged noncommittally, “Might have,” she said as she took her seat opposite Percy. She immediately set about fixing her coffee, though she used considerably less sugary creamer than Percy did. “You already order?” she asked as she took a sip,

Percy nodded, “Waitress recognized your name, said she would take care of it. You come here often then?”

Montoya nodded enthusiastically, “Found this place when I was still a patrol officer, have been coming here ever since,”

“And we like it that way,” said Erika, reappearing with a tray in her hands. She sat a large plate of corned beef hash, complete with two eggs, over easy in front of Percy and an enormous platter of pancakes in front of Montoya. “Good to see you back Renee,” Erika said to Montoya, “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about Allen.”

Montoya’s mood visibly darkened at that, but nodded her thanks at the woman all the same. The waitress told them to grab her if they needed anything before, she left them to their meals. Percy set about opening his eggs, and mixing it into his hash. He didn’t say anything about he had heard, it wasn’t his place to ask and if Montoya thought he should know, she would tell him.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Allen was my last partner,” she said, “He was killed a few months ago.”

Percy put his fork down and stared at his partner, he didn’t bother with sympathy. He had been in her shoes before, he knew she didn’t want it or need it. “How’d it happen?” he asked,

Her hands were still wrapped around her mug, and she was gripping it so tightly her fingers were starting to turn white, “You ever hear of the Black Spider?” she asked, and Percy nodded. The Black Spider was a pretty well-known hitman with known connections to both the Maroni Family. “Well me and Allen were working a case when the bastard ambushed us. Nearly emptied a clip into me but Allen was faster, managed to gank him first. It was a good shoot, but we needed the bullet for the I.A. dogs, but someone beat us to it.”

Montoya was shaking slightly as she spoke. but Percy just let her talk, it was clear that she needed to get all of this out in the open. “When we went to forensics to see if they had pulled the bullet from the scene, they couldn’t find it. Well we didn’t buy that for a second so we went back to the scene, snuck in late when the patrolies were all gone. We found the impact site, and the hole the bullet made in the wall but we couldn’t find the bullet, someone had snagged it.”

She took a sip of her coffee and tried to steady her breathing, “Turns out, one of techs, Jim Corrigan, stole it.” She spat the name out like a foul-tasting grape, “Bastard had the nerve of selling it online. Well he didn’t expect that we would figure out who the seller was, when we confronted him about it…” she trailed off, her voice choking slightly as her entire body shook in rage.

It was silent for a minute, and Percy just let her compose herself before he spoke, “You get the bastard?”

Montoya nodded bitterly, “Yeah we found him, son of a bitch tried to run but I found him hiding out in the warehouse district, when I cornered him, he tried to gun me down too, but I was faster.” She was staring hard at Percy, daring him to challenge her statement. Percy just nodded at her, ultimately, he didn’t find himself caring all that much if it had been a clean shoot or not, as far as he was concerned the son of a bitch deserved it.

“Let him rot,” he said simply.

She kept staring at him, searching his face for something. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, “Listen Jackson, I like you. You seem like you have your shit together and that you’re serious about your job.” Percy looked at her speculatively but allowed her to continue, knowing that she was going somewhere with this, “But I need to be honest with you.” Her tone gained a tight, poisonous edge to it, “This city is sick. All those rumors, about Gotham being a haven for corruption and slime? Well it’s all true, doubly so when it comes to the department. Every other blueback is on somebody else’s payroll, and it’s dog eat dog. So I’m going to make something very clear to you; if I find out you’re dirty, if you add to the problems of my city in any way, it won’t be that Bat you have to worry about. It’ll be me.”

Her eyes blazing, and the ferocity behind her statement gave Percy genuine goosebumps. He wasn’t intimidated, he had faced down far worse than the detective in his life, but he was still moved by the passion in her voice. She held genuine love for not just her job but for the city, and in that moment, Percy realized that he had made the right move in coming to Gotham, in spite of the situation a smile made its way onto his face. Here was somewhere that he could make a difference, where the part of him that screamed out at the injustices of the world could fight back in a meaningful way.

He kept her stare, still smiling, “The innermost circle of hell is reserved for betrayers, mutineers.” His expression changed steely to match Montoya’s, “There is little I resent more on this world, than those who turn their backs on their comrades for personal gain. You have nothing to worry about from me.”

Montoya just looked at him for several more seconds, dissecting his expression and reading his eyes. She had always been good at reading people, it was part of why she was so good at her job, and she prided herself on it, but she didn’t need to be good at reading people to understand that Percy was telling the truth. She had only known him a short time, but he was the type to wear his heart and emotions on his sleeve, and she knew that he was honest. Satisfied, she nodded, and asked, doing everything in power to remain stern and serious, “But I have one more question to ask you,” she paused for dramatic effect, “Did you really just quote Pirates of Caribbean to make your point?”

Percy just laughed, and awkwardly rubbed at spot behind his ear, “Maybe,” he admitted. With her piece said, Montoya set about doctoring her stack of hotcakes. Percy himself began digging into his mountain of hash. As he ate, he considered his next step. Montoya had just dumped a lot on him, it was a show of trust. She hadn’t needed to tell him about Allen, but she did, because she wanted their still very young partnership to work. He sighed as he ate, he knew he should give something as well, it was a necessary step. Swallowing a mouthful, he dabbed his mouth with a napkin and steeled his nerves. He had made an active effort to not think about Roger or Metropolis since the attack, but maybe this would be good for both of them. Bottling up his emotions had never worked well for him, and he needed to show Montoya the same kind of trust she had shown him. Besides, it wasn’t like what had happened was all that secretive, it was all public knowledge, it was just something he didn’t like thinking about.

He had wanted to ease into the conversation, gently guide things the way he wanted it to go. Unfortunately, Percy was far from eloquent, and the signals from his brain never quite made it to his mouth, so what ended up coming out was, “Superman killed my last partner.”

Montoya choked on her mouthful of pancakes, and began hacking and coughing violently. Pounding her chest with her fist, she eventually got her coughing under control, “Metro!” She said in surprise, and Percy winced, “The fuck was that?” she demanded,

Percy groaned and hurried his face in his hands, “Sorry Monty,” he said apologetically, “I’m uh, not that great at this sort of thing.”

Montoya wiped a few stinging tears from her eyes, and took a small sip of her coffee, “You want to run that by me again, because it sounded like you said that SUPERMAN, killed your partner.”

Percy’s expression morphed, changing from apologetic to mournful. “No,” he corrected, “No, you heard right.”

It was Montoya’s turn to place her utensils down, and give Percy her direct attention, “Explain,” was all she said.

Percy nodded, steadying himself as he tried to get his thoughts in order. “I don’t know how much they told you when we got put together,” Percy started, his attention on his half-eaten plate, it was a rhetorical question and Montoya knew that Percy wasn’t expecting an answer, “But I was in Metropolis for the attack.” He paused as his right hand started seizing up, it had been doing that since his return from overseas. Gripping his right hand in his left, he focused his attention on the shaking appendage and simply allowed the words to flow.

“It was a Sunday, end of one of our shift schedules. Roger’s wife, Kendra, always liked to have a big dinner together at their place on the night of the last day of our shifts, she liked to call them family dinners.” Percy smiled, a sad and melancholic expression, “I was running late, had spent a little longer at the station finishing up our report,” Percy snorted a little, “Roger liked to call it me, earning my keep as the ‘young buck in the precinct’, and always made me do our follow-ups but really, he was just being lazy.” He had managed to get his shaking hand calmed down enough that Percy could grip his coffee mug, the warmth of the drink had a calming effect.

“It’s hard to describe what it’s like, you know, when he fights something.” There was no need to explain who HE was, Montoya knew who Percy was talking about. “Everything is always so calm and then it’s not. It’s cliché but it really is like someone just flips a switch. One second everything is normal, and then the next the entire world is shaking, windows are breaking, cars are being thrown around.” Percy shook his head like a dog drying itself, trying to clear the images away from his vision,

“I was only a block away from their apartment when it started, I’ll never forget it; it was sunny, hot as hell, we were in the middle of a heat wave, and then suddenly the building next to me just exploded.” He laughed, hallow and mirthless, “It’s actually kind of funny in a sick kind of way, how well conditioned Metroplites are to those kinds of things. Sure, there’s panic, and confusion, but it’s controlled, you know? Everybody just understands that they need to get out of the hot zone and to the bunkers as quickly as possible.”

“Bunkers?” Montoya interrupted, confused.

Percy just nodded, “Yeah, I guess it’s not super well known but a few years ago the governor authorized a massive government grant to Metropolis to build doomsday shelters,”

Montoya’s eyes widened in understanding, “Is that because of-”

“Doomsday, yeah,” Percy confirmed, “There’s about a dozen spread out throughout the city, and there are actual drills the city runs on a monthly basis so everyone always knows where the nearest bunker is. Anyways, people are bolting to the nearest shelter, and, well, I’m not proud of how I reacted,” Percy said and he genuinely looked a little ashamed of himself, “I should have been working with the patrolies on crowd control, but I was too worried about Roger and his family. See there are supposed to be these sirens that go off when Blue is destroying the city, but they weren’t working for whatever reason. So instead of working the crowd, I just took off on foot for Roger.”

“You find him?” Montoya asked, her own food forgotten as she became engrossed in the story.

Percy nodded, “Yeah, I found them. They had been hearing the commotion and were in the process of leaving when…when the building started to collapse.” His fingers clenched painfully, and it took almost all of his concentration to mind his strength and not break the mug in his hand.

“I didn’t find out what happened until later; Big Blue got knocked clean through the first floor of the building, and took out almost every base-level support structure on his way through. We were on the seventh floor; it wasn’t like they could just jump.” Montoya didn’t miss how he used ‘they’ instead of ‘we’, but set it aside for the moment, “It was like the walls were just crumbling away. I remember the floor shifting under our feet, and then the westward wall just peeling away.”

His gaze turned haunted, as some of the light in Percy’s otherwise very bright orbs dimmed, and in an instant, Montoya watched a man age in front of her, as Percy’s outward demeanor became similar to someone whose age was far more accelerated than his twenty-six years.

“Kendra and the kids had been against the wall when it fell away.” He said, “One second they were there, and then they just weren’t.” Percy inhaled deeply. Having never actually spoken aloud what happened, what he was experiencing now was both tremendously therapeutic, and horrendously painful all at once. The wall he been determined to build around that nightmare was collapsing and the flood of emotions was rapidly becoming overwhelming, but he pressed on.

“I’m no stranger to death. You live the kind of life that I have and you become, I don’t know, desensitized to it. But it’s different when it’s a civilian you know? When it’s another cop, or a member of your fireteam, it hurts but it’s not as shocking right? Because that’s the job and that’s the risk that comes with it, but when it’s someone totally innocent like that…”

Montoya understood him completely. Living in Gotham, especially in the era of the Bat, she had seen her fair share of death. The loss of life was always tragic, but Percy was right, when someone lost their life in the line of duty, it was tragic, yes, but it was an unfortunate risk. A risk that they all understood when they took on the job. But civilians never agreed to those risks. They were forced into situations that threatened their lives by beings with powers that, prior to maybe twenty years, most thought of as little more than sheer fantasy. It was unfair, and all the more tragic that someone should lose their life because of the actions of beings well-beyond their control or understanding.

“Part of me hopes that Roger didn’t see it happen, didn’t have to see his wife and children sucked out of the building and fall to their deaths, but I’m sure he did.” Percy continued, ignorant to Montoya’s own internal monologue. “I guess it’s just lucky that he probably didn’t have to think about it for very long. The ceiling collapsed. Buried him. I don’t really remember what happened after that, hell, I don’t even know how I made it out of that mess in one piece. I remember the world shaking, I remember the impact, and then nothing. I woke up in Metro General a few days later.”

 

He fell silent after that, as did Montoya. Percy didn’t expect her to say anything, she didn’t need to. Percy hadn’t shared what had happened as some sort of sick competition of, “who’s had the worse life,” but rather to illustrate his desire to show to her that he wanted to trust her, and that she could trust him.

With the mood at the table becoming depressing as all hell, Percy picked up his fork again, and started in on his cold hash. They ate in silence for a few minutes, both just digesting the emotional release they had experienced. After a while, Montoya spoke up, “Ok, I’m sorry, I hate to bring it back up but there’s something about your story that’s bugging me.”

Percy just nodded at her as he took another bite, indicating he was fine with answering whatever questions she had. “You said that Superman killed your partner, and yeah, it was his body going through the support pillars that caused the building to collapse, but I find it pretty hard to believe that Superman, of all people, would willingly be tossed through a building.”

Percy nodded, having expected the question. It was a valid point, one shared by most of Metropolis, if not by the Metropolis Police Department.

“How well do you know your geography?” Percy asked, a little abruptly.

Montoya just looked at him in utter confusion, but Percy just rolled his eyes as he took another bite of food, and made a ‘just answer it’ gesture with his fork.

“Same as anyone I guess?” she asked more than said, still bewildered by the seeming change in topic.

Percy shook his head, “Alright, what’s north of Metropolis?” he asked,

And immediately, Montoya thought she knew where he was going with this; but she decided to play along, because Percy had gained a rather vicious gleam in his eye, “I don’t know,” she answered,

“Alright,” Percy said, “How about south of Metropolis, or east or west?” he asked,

Again, she didn’t know.

“Metropolis, is in upstate New York, the nearest town, is nearly one hundred miles away. Metropolis is further north than Toronto, it’s basically a small isolated haven, in the middle of Canadian wilderness.” Percy said, his tone hard, “For fifty miles in any direction, there is nothing but wilderness. And only a few thousand miles to the east? The Atlantic, goddamn, Ocean.”

“Metro-” Montoya tried to say, but Percy cut across her, slamming a palm down on the table with such a loud smack, that the other inhabitants in the diner all turned to look, but Percy ignored them.

“So why the hell,” Percy ground out, “Why in the name of all that is holy, does that lunatic insist on fighting these world-ending psychopaths in the middle of the fucking city?” he hissed, Montoya tried to interject, but Percy had built up a full head of steam by now, “The man can circumnavigate the globe in like a minute, so why doesn’t he just lead those lunatics away from the city?” Montoya didn’t even bother trying to answer, she knew it was rhetorical, “Does he honestly think that those guys are interested in anything other than him?” he asked, “We aren’t talking about gangbanger or bank robbers, we are talking about beings that can fight him on an even playing field. They would follow him, so why doesn’t he leave? I’ll tell you.” he said, not even bothering to wait for an answer,

“It’s because he’s arrogant. I don’t think he’s even aware of it. Honestly, I can’t even really blame him, if I could do the things he could, I probably would be too, but the fact remains that he spends so much time solving problems faster than we can even blink, that he doesn’t think for even a second, that any fight he’s in would last long enough to bring about the kind of destruction that comes from his kind of fights. But the fact remains that this isn’t the first-time half of the city has been destroyed from his fights. It’s so damn infuriating, how many more people have to die before he figures it out? How many more times do the people of Metropolis have to pick up the pieces? SO, to answer your question, no Superman didn’t kill Roger. He didn’t kill Kendra, or Anthony, or Abigail. But his sheer arrogance, his inability to see the consequences of his actions got them killed, and to me, that’s the same thing.”

Percy was panting in rage. It was a shocking sight, in the short time that Montoya had known him, Percy had appeared to be a very relaxed man, not one to get angered easily, or at least have a solid hold on it. But right now, it like looking at an enraged beast, his lips were curled back into what Montoya could only call a snarl, and a large vein on his neck was pulsing. It was unnerving, and not for the first time, Montoya thought that his eyes were literally glowing. Out of the corner of her eye, Montoya would swear that the water in the untouched cups on the table, was shifting slightly.

Her fear was showing on her face, and quick as a flash, Percy’s entire demeanor changed. The glow in his eyes disappeared and the hardened edges of his features softened, and he became acutely aware of the aura that he was emanating.

“Sorry,” he apologized immediately, once he had gotten himself under control. “I’m sorry, it’s just so frustrating. I know Gotham has had its problems but, I can’t remember it ever having to rebuild. Metropolis has had to literally be rebuilt, five times in the last eight years. I don’t know,” he sighed, rubbing at the back of his ear, “I just hate it, it’s all so unnecessary. All the fighting, the death, the destruction, it’s just too much.”

“Wow..” was all that Montoya could say, and really what else was there for her to say. She couldn’t remember anyone, outside talking heads on news networks, ever speak so critically or harshly about the Man of Steel.

Percy looked chagrined, “Sorry,” he said, “It’s just something that’s been bothering me for a while, and talking like that in Metropolis is…not a very good idea.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Montoya was quick to amend. She didn’t want him thinking he wasn’t allowed to speak his mind around her. “It’s just…I’m surprised. You really don’t like him, do you?”

“I respect what he tries to do and what he has done,” Percy was quick to say, “He’s a symbol of hope for millions, if not billions of people. Many of whom have never had any reason to be hopeful before. He’s done this world a lot of good, and he’s saved the planet more times than we can count. It’s not that I don’t understand and appreciate that. But his actions, or his lack of action, have consequences, and, well I think he’s brought as many problems as he’s solved. How many world ending catastrophes have come about directly because of him, or any of the other big-name leaguers? It seems like every other month there’s some kind of a new crisis or catastrophe.” He just sighed in frustration. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just jaded, but how long can this game go on? They make a mess and we have to clean it up.”

Montoya didn’t say anything. For the first time since they had met, she found herself pretty staunchly disagreeing with her partner. The Bat, hell the entire league, had done more for the safety and security of the planet than she could ever hope to do. It wasn’t like she couldn’t understand where Percy was coming from, and this talk had certainly been something of an eye-opener for her. Sure, she had seen the news coverage of what usually happened in Metropolis, but given the kind of hell that existed in Gotham on a daily basis, it had never really fazed her. But hearing a first-hand account of the kinds of things Percy had experienced in the city, gave her some perspective. If nothing else, however, it simply reaffirmed her own feelings on the League.

Jackson hadn’t been in Gotham before the Bat. Had never experienced what it was like. When Batman and the rest of the League began to arise, the citizens of Gotham had been, for the first time, able to leave the house at night, and not be terrified of something horrible happening. She didn’t think Jackson could understand or appreciate that, but she kept the thought to herself. It wasn’t like the man didn’t have a point after all. She had lost enough friends to the clown to know that some of these ‘super villains’ lived only as a challenge to their moral foils. But she felt that the good they brought about, more than outweighed the bad. But it wasn’t her place, or her job to try and convince her partner of that. But still, it bothered her. She had experienced similar sentiments when she had worked with Bullock, and a part of her just couldn’t comprehend how someone couldn’t be pro-capes.

“So, do you not like any of the capes?” she found herself asking before she could stop herself,

Percy didn’t respond immediately. Mostly because he wasn’t all that certain as to the answer to the question himself. “I wouldn’t say that.” He eventually said, “I think they are inspiring to be sure. Especially the ones who can’t, you know, bench an aircraft carrier. Anyone who is willing to put their life on the line for the sake of keeping people safe is worthy of respect to me. Even more so when that person is squaring off against something that could toss them into the sun. But they’re not infallible. They make mistakes and to me that’s the difference. When they screw up, when they make a mistake, the consequences are so much worse than if you or I screw up. Who holds them responsible? Where is the accountability? The League? I’m supposed to trust the league to police themselves? I’m sorry but I just can’t do that.”

Montoya couldn’t help but get a little offended on behalf of the league. It was an irrational response, and yes, a part of her knew and understood that, but who was he to sit there and criticize the people that had saved the world more times than could be comprehended? How could he sit there and armchair quarterback the men and women who put it all on the line, every single day, fighting against the kinds of evils and terrors of the world that Montoya herself couldn’t really imagine.

“So, what?” She asked, and even she was a little taken aback by the bite to her words, “You think you could do better?”

She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to that. A joke maybe, or maybe a sniping remark of his own. What she had not been expecting, was the look of defeat, and utter self-loathing that came over his visage. His eyes regained that haunted expression they had held earlier. He looked like a defeated man.

“No,” he said, “No I guess not.”

She didn’t respond to that. What more was there to say?

They sat in silence for a while, neither talking, and both lost in thoughts. Montoya, thinking over the revelations her partner had revealed, and feeling just a touch guilty that she had unintentionally stirred up some very deep-seated, and likely terrible memories in Percy. While the man himself sat there, lost in his own memories. Memories of a time he had tried so desperately to forget. Memories of a life he had lost, because of his own inability to take action when it mattered most.

Checking his watch, Percy started, “Gods,” he muttered to himself, and the strange curse brought Montoya out of her own thoughts, “We’re going to be late if we stay here any longer.” He said, “We need to head in.” Montoya nodded. Percy pulled a few bills out of his pocket and deposited the payment on the table, waving off Montoya’s offer to split the bill. Standing up the pair quietly exited the diner, each lost in their own thoughts, and made their way to the precinct to clock-in.

It was going to be a very busy day.

Notes:

Hope you guys are staying as safe and healthy as possible right now! This was a bit of a lore dump chapter, but it was necessary. That and I just thoroughly enjoy character interactions. Heavy action is fun for a bit, but my favorite sections of any stories are when the characters just sit and talk with one another. Thanks for the love and support, y’all have been awesome! And I hope every one of ya makes it through these trying times with as little trouble as possible.

Love,
LilDB

Chapter 6: Discovery

Percy bit back a snarl, trying to control himself as he slammed the phone back down on the receiver. This had been the umpteenth time he had attempted to get a hold of the St. Clouds. But just like the several calls he had made the day previous, he had been redirected. It took almost all of his willpower not to shout, “Their daughter is dead, you gutless worm!” at the annoying attendant he had been talking to.

“No luck with the parents?” Montoya asked from across the desk, though the question was mostly rhetorical.

“No,” Percy spat out, “If I get the ring-around one more godsdamned time, I’m just going to tell whatever pissant answers that Silver’s dead and leave it at that,”

Montoya snorted, her own phone pressed to an ear, “That’s a great way to get put on probation on your first week Metro,”

Percy chose not to respond. He was very quickly developing a foul mood. His talk with Montoya at breakfast had dredged up a lot of feelings and memories that he would have much preferred remain buried. Add up the mounting frustration that he was still unable to get in touch with the St. Clouds, and he was not a happy camper.

Montoya sensed her partner’s developing foul mood, and placed her phone back down. “Well, I got some good news at least.” She gestured to her phone, “Got a few messages from the morgue and the lab. They’re waiting on one of us before they make the cut, and the lab got some of the results back from the alley.” She laughed lightly, “Guess Gordon wasn’t kidding when he said he’d put his foot to their throat to get our results back.”

Percy nodded, his mood lifting a little. That was indeed all good news. In a city like Gotham, autopsies, or cuts, could take days, before they were ready to be done. With the sheer backlog of bodies that needed to be cut, and the small staff that often worked in the morgues, it was an uphill battle. That was nothing on waiting for lab results. Essentially being a first-come-first-serve basis, Percy had once waited nearly two weeks before he had been able to access forensics reports from a crime scene.

“You thinking we split up?” Percy asked, “One of us takes the cut, the other takes the lab?”

Montoya hummed her agreement, “I’ll go to the cut if you want to handle the nerds,”

Percy nodded, before standing up and grabbing his coat. Putting it on, he reached down onto his desk and retrieved his pistol and replaced his badge around his neck.

“You know where you’re going?” Montoya asked, grabbing her own belongings, before joining Percy as they descended out of the bullpen.

“Yeah,” he said, “It’s attached to One Police Plaza, right?”

Montoya nodded her head in agreement. She didn’t say anything for a second, as her face scrunched up slightly in thought. She thought that the two of them should talk about what happened in the diner. There had been this tension between them since their talk. She blamed herself a little for it. She had overreacted a bit when Percy had been talking about the league. Sure, they hadn’t shouted at one another or anything like that, but there was a definite lacking to the casual camaraderie they had been building between them.

Percy was sharing similar sentiments. It was clear to him that his partner didn’t hold the same feelings and hesitation toward capes that he did. He could understand it, it was hard not to idolize figures that were larger than life, and there was no discounting the leagues track record for saving the world. But she also had never lived that life. To be fair, Percy hadn’t strictly lived that life either, but it was close enough that he felt justified in his beliefs. Any time he fought something from his world, Percy had always done everything in his power to minimize the damage to mortal life and property. He believed staunchly that his problems should never result in the direct disruption of the lives of others. While he was sure that capes had similar feelings, a person didn’t go into that life without some degree of empathy for human life, he felt that often times members of the league got too wrapped up in the fight to think of the consequences of their actions.

Still, in spite of his own clashing ideals with his partner, he did not want this little disagreement to blow up into something greater. Yes, to the casual observer it was a minor disagreement. But Percy had lost enough friends over the years to know that if problems or disagreements, no matter how minor, went unresolved then issues arose. Slowly, those problems would compound. It would start with a minor disagreement, and then slowly any and every disagreement that followed would build upon one another, until the tension reached a boiling point. For any relationship to be successful, clear and honest communication was needed. While such a thing was a bit more difficult for him, ancient laws and all that, he still believed they should address things before they went any further.

“I’m sorry-”

“I’m Sorry-”

Both said at the same time as they reached the bottom of the stairs, just outside the precinct. Both just stared blankly at one another for a minute, before the pair both broke down in chuckles.

“We good?” Percy asked, reaching his fist out to her,

“Yeah,” Montoya smirked, bumping her own fist against his.

With that, the two made their way over to the parking lot, got in their respective vehicles, and took off in the direction of their respective destinations.

BREAK

One Police Plaza was located in one of the oldest districts in the city. Whereas much of the urban sprawl, especially around Percy’s own precinct, was more modern its architectural designs, the Five Points was more gothic in its appearance. Sprawling spires, and old brickworks, Percy rather liked the more historical look of the headquarters for the Gotham Police Department.

Parking his car, Percy made his way to the building attached to the gothic police monolith. Unlike One Police, the forensics lab stood out as a monument to modernity. Five stories of tall, glass walls in some form of postmodern expressionism, Percy couldn’t help but be impressed. In spite of all he had read about the lack of funding the GCPD had been receiving, the building was clearly brand new.

Pushing open the doors to the tall building, Percy showed his identification to one of the desk attendants in the main lobby, and he was directed to the fifth floor of the building. Percy was reminded of his time at NYU; the building was very reminiscent of some of the buildings he had taken classes in. He arrived at a closed door with the number 515 on a sign by the handle. There was a buzzer next to the handle, taking the hint, Percy pressed the buzzer, and a few seconds passed before the was a ‘click’, and the door was unlocked.

The inside was about what he expected out of a forensics lab. The sterilized, hospital-like, smell hit his nostrils in a wave. The room was open, with several large machines tucked away into various corners. On the far side of the room, facing the large windows, was a large man. He was a little over six feet tall, with deep black skin, a shaved head, and a white lab coat, he was standing over a machine as it whizzed and hummed. Hearing the door close behind Percy, the man looked up and turned around from his work to see who was intruding onto his personal space.

“Detective Jackson,” Percy introduced himself, “I’m working the St. Cloud case.”

The man grunted but nodded, “So you’re the one making my life difficult.” he said gruffly, instead of introducing himself.

“Sorry that a kid is dead. Next time someone decides to cap a fourteen-year old I’ll make a call and see if it’s ok with you first,” Percy shot back. He understood where the man was coming from, if the commissioner was putting the pressure on for him to start putting up results, then the man had likely been living in the lab. That didn’t excuse acting like a jackass though.

The man just snorted, and Percy caught the name on the badge on his lapel. “Dr. Treyvon Parker.” He strode past Percy and over to a table with a variety of evidence bags and other items that Percy recognized from the alley the night of the shoot.

“You got lucky. One of the shots went clean through the girl and embedded itself in the alley.” Parker said without preamble, pulling up one of the evidence bags. “We also managed to pull out a couple of shell casings from the alley.” Parker held up another bag, “Nine-millimeter. We ran the casings through NIBIN and we got a hit on at least seven other shootings over the last three years that came from the gun that was used.”

NIBIN, or the National Integrated Ballistics Information Network, was a relatively new addition to crime scene analysis. Techs could input data found on a shell casing and, using a machine and algorithm Percy didn’t understand, could track down the likely gun that was used in the shoot, and trace it back to other cases where that gun was used. It was incredibly helpful technology, that only a handful of states had the access to. Percy frowned though, as useful as it was to hear that they had this evidence it meant that they were really dealing with a professional.

Percy almost felt his stomach drop out of his shoes; this guy was likely already very long gone.

“Get any clean prints off of the casings?” Percy asked. He was hoping that their guy hadn’t been smart enough to wear gloves when he was loading his brass, and would have left a clear print for them to have put through the system.

Parker shook his head, “No luck. At least nothing clean.”

Percy bit back a groan but just nodded. Parker then walked around to the end of the table, “We pulled a variety of particulates off of the clothing. But we didn’t find anything that would indicate that she was held in a secondary location or she was anywhere but her home, school or that alley. We did manage to get a few sets of prints off of her jacket, ran those through the system too, but again, no luck.”

“Hell…” Percy muttered under his breath, “You guys get anything we can use to figure out who this guy is?” Percy asked, his frustrations mounting.

“No,” said Parker simply, but then he grinned. “But we found something else that’s very, very interesting.”

He then picked up the smallest bag on the table and handed it over to Percy. With a look of confusion, Percy took the bag and looked at it. Opening the manila bag, he peered inside, where the small bracelet that he had found in the alleyway lay.

“The bracelet?” Percy asked, “What’s that got to do with anything,”

“That,” said Parker, pointing at the bag before resting his elbows on top of the table, “Is your motive.”

Percy stood stock still. “Excuse me?” he said, because he wasn’t quite sure he had heard the man correctly. Parker’s grin just widened in self-satisfaction,

“I don’t mean to presume anything here detective,” he said, still resting on the table, “But would I be correct in assuming you aren’t thinking this murder was just a mugging gone wrong?”

Percy didn’t move for a moment, his mind whirling as he tried to process the information. Finally, he just nodded, “Yes,” he said slowly, “Working theory at the moment is that our guy was after something, and not just trying to kill the kid.”

“Thought so,” said Parker, that same satisfied look on his face, “And the reason I thought so, is because of that little bracelet.” he pointed again at the bag.

“Alright,” said Percy, having enough of the little game the man was playing, “What the hell is so special about the damn bracelet?”

“That ain’t a bracelet detective,” Parker said easily, not rattled by Percy’s aggravation, “It’s an encryption. A set of codes mapping out a seriously impressive security array of some kind. I don’t know what it’s for, or what it does, but the little gem on there?” he said, gesturing again to the bag and Percy looked down again to look at the small emerald dangling from its side, “That gem has coding written on the inside. No idea how they managed to do it, or what it says cause that ain’t my specialty, but there’s a thousand or so lines of coding algorithms engraved on the inside of the emerald.”

Percy felt his breathing stop momentarily, as a surge of hope flooded through him. Their guy wasn’t about to go anywhere. Percy had been sure that there was something else going on, everything they had found during the investigation indicated as such. There was just no other reason for the man to have trashed Silver’s Penthouse, or assume the role of her personal chauffeur. He hadn’t been sure what he had been expecting, but this? This most certainly had not been it.

“How in the hell did you spot that?” Percy asked, slightly amazed.

Parker just shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, “I wanted to get a closer look at the emerald, sometimes the piece makers will put some sort of marking or engraving on their works to show who made it, but when I put it under the scope, I saw the coding instead.”

“Did you find a mark or anything while you were looking though?” Percy asked, if they could find out who crafted the piece, then it would be likely that they could find someone who could tell them what it was, or yet, break the decryption code.

“Nothing, sorry pal,” Parker said, not sounding the least bit sorry, and Percy found his patience with the man growing thinner by the passing second.

“So how would something like this even work?” Percy asked as a new line of thought entered his mind, “I’m no coder, but as far as I know, you can’t just shove an emerald into a thumb drive and unlock the secrets of the universe,”

Parker just snorted, but didn’t disagree, “Think of it like this. Out there somewhere, is a lock, and the coding on the inside of that emerald is the key. You input the coding into whatever it’s made for, and it unlocks the door.”

“Any way we could get someone in here to break through the encryption, or maybe reverse engineer it so we could find out what this thing is used for?” Percy asked, still not taking his eyes away from the bracelet,

“Maybe, but not anytime soon.” Parker admitted with a shrug, “Gotham don’t got the tech to break through something like that, I hear that there’s a guy out in Central City who does some pretty good code work, Allen or something like that, but unless you feel like driving all the way out to Missouri, you’re probably out of luck for at least a few weeks.”

Percy sighed, but nodded. He figured it would have been a bit of a long shot. Not even Metropolis had someone who was able to break encryptions. Most of the good coders were either in the private sector, or working as subcontractors to the federal government.

“Where are your gloves at?” he asked, and Parker pointed to a table behind Percy. Putting down the bag on the table, he walked over, and Percy grabbed a pair of gloves from the box on the table, and slapped them on. Then, grabbing the bag, he slowly pulled the bracelet out of the bag and held it with one hand. He placed the now empty bag on the table, and with his free hand, reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. Angling the jewelry in such a way that the emerald was dangling free and unobstructed, Percy snapped a couple of pictures at a variety of angles. When he was done, he carefully replaced the bracelet and resealed the bag, and placed it on the table.

“Anything else for me?” Percy asked,

Parked just a raised a brow, “Not yet,” he said slowly, “But I’m not quite through sifting through the other messes you brought my way. I have a team working through what we pulled out of the penthouse and I’m still waiting to hear back from the morgue about the second victim you found. I have your number; I’ll call if we find anything else for you.”

Percy nodded, “Thanks,” he said, “Great work, on that,” he pointed to the bag on the table, before he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his pocket. Reaching in, he pulled it out, only to see a number he didn’t recognize flashing over the screen. “Forward your reports to our precinct,” Without another word to the rude forensics’ analyst, Percy strode out of the lab, answering the phone as he did so.

“Hello?” he answered,

“Is this detective Jackson?” a smooth female voice asked on the other end of the line,

“Yes,” he answered as he closed the door to the lab behind him, and strode towards the elevator. “Who is this?”

“This is Samantha Khan from the District Attorney’s office, how are you today detective?”

Percy’s brows shot up to his hairline, Gordon must have had a busy night, “Another day in paradise, you know how that goes. Is there something I can help you with miss Khan?”

“Your name was attached to the search warrant requests presented to the office yesterday, however we could not find your fax number in our system.”

“Ah,” Percy said, stepping into the elevator, silently hoping he wasn’t about to lose service, “Sorry about that. I’m a recent hire and was put on a case immediately, so I haven’t had a chance to set up my number yet. I’ll take care of that later today. Does that mean we have our warrant?”

“Please make sure you do.” Khan said, “And yes, we were going to fax it over this morning.”

“Can I just stop by and pick it up myself?” he asked,

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Percy thought he might have lost the call. “That would be acceptable. When can you be here?” Khan finally said,

Percy felt himself grinning. Things were starting to look up for them. If they could get even a semi-clean look at their guy, it could prove beyond useful. He checked his watch briefly before pulling his phone down and pulling his map app out. After a quick check to see how close the DA’s office was, he replaced the phone by his ear.

“I can be there in fifteen minutes,” he said,

“That will be fine detective. Your warrant will be waiting with the receptionist in the lobby.” There was a click, and the woman ended the call. Percy pulled the phone away from his face and stared at it for a moment. With a snort of amusement, he tucked the phone away back into his pants pockets, as the elevator doors reopened.

He exited the building and made it back to the parking lot, and into his car. Once inside, he pulled up the map and set a route towards the DA’s office, then swiped over and called up Montoya and set the phone on speaker, then he switched back to the map app. He was just placing the phone into the dock on his center console when his partner answered.

“This Montoya,” was her crisp greeting,

“Heya Monty,” Percy said cheerfully, “How’d the cut go?”

“You sound…chipper,” Montoya said, “And nothing. The M.E. found some particulates under her finger nails that they’re going to analyze, hopefully comes back with someone in the system,”

“It won’t,” Percy interjected, “The techs found prints on some of the casings the pulled from the alley, ran them through AFIS but got nothing out of them.”

“Ok…” Montoya replied, as she drew out the word, “You’ve got something, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” Percy teased, unable to keep a smug smile off of his face as he turned at the intersection, “Or maybe I have a couple of somethings”

“Don’t be a cocktease,” Montoya chided, “What do you got,”

“Alright, so I’m guessing at least one of the bullets was not in the girl’s body?”

“That’s right,”

“That’s because it was a through and through. Right into the concrete. Anyways, they pulled it, analyzed it, and ran it through NIBIN. Seven other shoots Montoya, our guy’s been involved in seven other shoots.”

Montoya was quiet, “Ok, so our boy is a professional. Why is that a good thing?” She asked, and Percy realized with a start that, with how their conversation had gone that morning, he had never had a chance to discuss what his thoughts or findings on the case were.

“It’s a good thing, because we know that he isn’t done with his job yet.”

“Really not in the mood for games today Metro, what do you mean?”

Percy got the message and got straight to the point, “Alright, so hear me out,” he said as he pulled up to a stoplight, “I’m sure that I’m not the only one here that’s been feeling like there was more to this right?”

“Thought that was pretty clear when we found the second body,” was Montoya’s dry reply.

Percy chuckled, “Yes,” he drawled, “But I was more referring to the why, here Monty. Why was there a second body? Why, if this guy was here to kill miss St. Cloud, did he take the time to assume the identify of her driver if he already knew where she lived and where she went to school? Why was the penthouse trashed? Why not just take her out when she was coming out of school?”

“Alright, alright, I get your point. Yes, all of that has occurred to me. So, what are you thinking, our guy is looking for something and thought that Silver had it?”

“Got it in one, and I think I know exactly what he was looking for.” Percy said, “You remember that bracelet I found?” Montoya grunted in affirmation, “Turns out? Not just a nice piece, the folks in the lab found an encryption on the inside of the emerald.”

“What?” Montoya asked, “Like, stenciled on one side or something?”

“No,” Percy corrected, “I mean that there are shit-ton of code that was inscribed on the inside of the emerald that are smaller than the eye can see. They only found it by chance, but whatever it is, works kind of like a key for something. If the St. Clouds are as rich as I’ve been hearing, then it’s probably a reserve or valuable art piece or something stupid like that. Anyways, the point is, that I’m willing to bet that our guy was looking for this.” Percy said, his voice growing a little more excited,

“That makes sense. Wait, I just thought of something,” Montoya said, “If that is true, and our guy left it at the scene of the crime, then he probably doesn’t know what his little code looks like.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Percy exclaimed happily, “I mean if it’s like super-secret codes for something, then he was probably thinking it would be on like, a thumb drive or something.”

“Oh shit,” Percy heard Montoya mutter,

“What?” Percy asked,

“If he’s still looking for it, what do you think the chances are that our boy tries to go back to the Penthouse to look again?”

Percy scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, “That place is still swarming with cops, he can’t be dumb enough to try and break in there right now.”

“He’s killed at least two people in a week Metro,” Montoya chided, “This guy sounds desperate, I would not put it past him. Better to be safe than sorry.”

Percy just nodded, more for himself since there was no way Montoya could actually see him. “That works out I suppose,” he mused, “Especially since I was going to be heading back there anyways.”

“Why’s that?” Montoya asked,

Percy spoke as he pulled into a parking space on the side of the curb along the District Attorney’s office building, “Got a call from someone in the DA’s office, they have our warrant for the camera’s. Was going to suggest we get the tapes and head back to the precinct and settle in for a movie night.”

Montoya groaned over the phone, and Percy couldn’t blame her. Tape duty was about as tedious as a stakeout. “On the bright side,” Percy said, trying to convince himself as much as his partner that it wouldn’t be too bad, “At least we have a rough timeline to look for. Whoever the guy is with Silver and drives off has got to be our guy,”

There was a sigh but Percy could hear the resigned agreement in her tone, “You’re right, you’re right.”

Percy thought of something, “Were you the one to submit the request?” he asked,

“Yeah, faxed it over to the Commissioner’s personal line, why?”

“You didn’t happen to ask for the tapes of the surrounding buildings and traffic cameras, did you?” he asked.

She snorted slightly in derision, “C’mon Metro, give me some credit here, this isn’t my first month on the job. Yes, I said that the cameras in the building, along with the cameras of the neighboring high-rises and street cams potentially held evidence pertaining to the identity of a suspect in a double homicide.”

Percy just chuckled as he stepped out of the car, “Alright, meet you there in…” he checked his watch, “Half an hour?”

“Sounds good,” and then she hung up. Chuckling, Percy walked into the building, and true to miss Khan’s word, the warrants were waiting for him. He chatted up the secretary for a few minutes before he collected his items and made his way back towards his car.

He thought about what Montoya had said as he made his way towards the penthouse. She was right, if nothing else then their guy was going to get desperate soon. It couldn’t hurt anything to add a few more units to the scene, and maybe around Dorsett, the dead driver’s, home. Sighing as he got back behind the wheel, he checked his watch, it was a little before one in the afternoon, which meant that they would be able to go through a few hours of tape, and then they could make their way to fundraiser. Groaning, Percy placed his head on the steering wheel, he still had to bring that fun little topic up to Montoya, and he had a feeling that she wasn’t going to love the idea of spending her evening at a black-tie gala with Gotham’s elite.

Turing the ignition over, Percy put the car in gear and prepared himself for another long day.

BREAK

Recognize: Black Canary 13

The familiar sensation of her atoms being reconfigured sent a tingle shivering across her skin as Dinah stepped out of the tube. She was always a little taken aback when she stepped onto the watchtower, the Leagues orbiting headquarters. The view from the large windows by the tube was indescribable. The entire planet, the large blue-green sphere, gently floating through the void. It served as an anchor for her, a constant reminder of why she did what she did, and why she would continue the fight her mother had started.

“It’s funny,” came a voice from over her shoulder. Turning to the voice, Dinah was unsurprised to see her fellow teammate and friend. Diana Prince, better known to the world as Wonder Woman, was on the orbiting space station nearly as often as J’onn.

“What is?” Dinah asked, her gaze following the taller woman as she moved to stand next to Dinah by the window, gazing down on the planet below.

“That is,” Diana replied, wrapping a knuckle against the glass in the direction of the planet below. “From up here, it always appears so peaceful. So calm. Almost idyllic.” Dinah didn’t have anything to say. The unspoken ‘but we know better,’ didn’t need to be said by either heroine. The pair stood there in silence for a while, neither speaking, but taking solace in the beauty and majesty of the view before them.

“So, what are you doing here?” Diana asked after a few minutes of quiet contemplation. She hadn’t spoken loudly, her voice barely above that of a whisper, but in the quiet confines of the watchtower, even the quietest voices carried. “You’re not on Monitor rotation for another week,”

Dinah turned her gaze away from the planet to regard her friend, “Needed to run something through the database,”

Diana quirked a meticulously plucked brow, “Trouble?” she asked, and Dinah almost chuckled at the way the muscular woman’s body involuntarily began tensing before relaxing and tensing again. After nearly a decade of knowing the woman she shouldn’t have been surprised, but it always did catch Dinah off guard how easily, even the mention of combat, could set the warrior loose. She supposed that if you grew up fighting gods and demons you probably would be a little quick on the draw.

“Maybe, not sure yet. There might be a new player in Gotham.”

An amused, but not quite pitying look came over Diana’s features, “If there is, do you really think Bruce hasn’t already been all over him?”

Dinah didn’t think she’d ever really get used to hearing someone refer to the Bat by his real name. Though she supposed, if anyone could and would, it would Diana.

“You’re probably right,” Dinah chuckled, “But it would be easier trying to pull the teeth from a mountain lion than get Batman to share some of his intel with me. And besides,” she added as she began to casually make her way towards the Monitor room, where the League’s supercomputer resided, “Sometimes you just have to satisfy your own personal curiosity.”

“Fair enough,” Diana laughed, “Would you care for an extra set of eyes?”

“Sure,” Dinah shrugged, she wasn’t about to brush off the help of someone with more than a few centuries under her belt.

The Monitor room was the second largest room on the Watchtower, second only to the conference room. It was situated in the heart of the of the building, completely sequestered behind several, nigh impermeable, lead-lined magnesium-based alloy walls. While the entire station was made of the same alloy, Batman had insisted on lining the inner walls of that particular room with lead, Dinah wasn’t entirely certain why, but if the dirty looks Clark had given the Bat when he had informed them of the design were any indication, then she assumed it was something to do with Superman.

Against one wall was the Monitor, a large super computer in its own right, but with a very different purpose to the machine Dinah intended on using. The Monitor, as it was known to the League, was linked up to several dozen WayneTech satellites, and allowed the League to slice their way into every known police and military surveillance system they were aware of, as well as unlimited access to most known forms of radio-waves. It allowed the League the quickest possible response time to any world-ending emergency or catastrophe. It was an extension of something Batman had designed himself, which allowed the man unlimited access to anyone with a cellphone, radio, or anything transmitting radio waves. The Monitor was run by some complex algorithm Dinah didn’t care to understand, to flag specific words or phrases, and relay them back to the user at the station. If the flagged items were inconsequential, then things moved on as normal, but every once in a while, the Monitor would pick up on something else, and it would be the job of whomever was on duty that day, to get the word out immediately the who, what, and where. It was the League’s first line of defense against the greatest threats to humanity, which was why there was always a leaguer on standby for Monitor duty. Which was why Diana just so happened to be the tower.

Dinah would be the first to jump in and praise the efficacy, and life-saving potential of the Monitor. It had already prevented utter catastrophe, natural or otherwise, on nearly a dozen of occasions. It was difficult to say exactly how many lives had been saved, directly because of the existence of the machine. That being said, the Monitor made Dinah uneasy. In spite of all the good it had done, and all the lives they’d saved using it, Dinah couldn’t help but feel like it was a gross invasion of privacy. She trusted in Batman and Superman and the rest of the hyper-intelligent Leaguers who designed the Monitor’s firewall, but she her mind couldn’t help but go to the worst-case scenario. What if someone did manage to hack into their system, sure they would have to know about the Watchtower, and the Monitor, and be able to hack into it, but their enemies were numerous, intelligent and powerful. To think that the enemies of the League didn’t know about their headquarters, or assume they had something similar to the Monitor would a practice in naivety. The kind of havoc that could be wrought with a system such as the Monitor was mind numbing. That was before a person even considered the moral ambiguity of even creating such a system in the first place.

Dinah knew she wasn’t the only person to have these beliefs as well. A couple of the others had even started to call it Brother Eye, in reference to Orwell’s dystopian Big Brother, when they thought none of the triumvirate were around.

Tearing her gaze away from the Monitor, Dinah turned her attention to the supercomputer. Another large screen that was supposedly modeled after the system Batman used in his own headquarters. Dinah pulled out a small thumb drive, last night she had used her own personal system to download the information she had accumulated using her League Lens’ and transfer the data over. Taking the thumb drive, she inserted it into a port under the keyboard. The file appeared on the Monitor, and Dinah clicked on it to download. In only a few seconds the entirety of the file was downloaded onto the League database.

Mousing over, Dinah clicked on a link to the shared League Person’s of Interest System, or LPIS. The LPIS was all of the records any Leaguer had ever downloaded or shared on any person or group that was of interest or suspect. It was, like the Monitor, linked in with every nation’s national archive on everything from criminal and arrest records to school attendance listings and missing person’s services.

Clicking on the downloaded file on Percy, she dragged it over and dropped it into the search menu, and instantly the computer began running everything that had ever been put through the system on Percy Jackson.

Diana just watched quietly from the side as Dinah worked. She found herself intrigued, it had been a rather boring shift, so when she got the alert that her friend was coming through the Zeta Tube she had welcomed the minor distraction. If any trouble arose, the Monitor would be sure to alert the whole station so she wasn’t all that concerned with being ‘away from her post’. That, and it wasn’t often that something caught her friend’s attention like this. She was happy for her, the League had a bit of an unwritten rule: leave outside distractions at the door, and whatever had been going on between her and Oliver was clearly troubling the woman. So, to have this little distraction, no matter how potentially insignificant was a welcome sign to the warrior princess. There was that, and Dinah was not the type to fuss over something she didn’t feel was potentially important.

As the computer began running through files, and they waited for the results, Diana asked, “So what’s so special about this person?”

Dinah looked over at her friend, “He’s a new detective with GCPD, transferred from Metropolis, I ran into him at Ted’s,” she said, and Diana knew who she was referring to. She had met and fought with Ted ‘Wildcat’ Grant a few times. He was a good man, who was now quietly enjoying his retirement. “Ted said that he bribed him to ignore the fact that he was lifting weights that would shatter most Olympic records.”

Diana’s eyebrows rose at that, “A Metahuman then,” she said

Dinah nodded, “That’s what we were thinking,” Diana knew she was referring to Ted, “I was there with Artemis, you know, Arrow’s new protege,” the lack of her use of Oliver’s given name was not missed by Diana, “I wanted to get her out of the cave for a bit, the team’s been a bit…volatile lately as I’m sure you’ve heard.” Which was an understatement. Diana did not have much, if any contact with this new ‘team’ that Batman had created, but she kept up to date with most of the League gossip. Supposedly, there was a mole within the team and Aqualad had been keeping that information from the rest of the kids.

“Anyway,” Dinah continued, “I was trying to help her with her unarmed combat training, but she was having some problems with it. Percy,” Diana assumed that was the man in question, and was assumed by Dinah’s casual usage of his first name, but Dinah didn’t even realize she had done it, “He noticed what was going on and offered some pointers,”

“Bold of him,” Diana noted, and Dinah nodded. It had annoyed her a little that this strange man had just interjected himself into their training, but she supposed she couldn’t fault him too much for it, Artemis had been rather vocal about her displeasure, and Percy hadn’t been malicious or anything in his intent. Dinah wasn’t sure what it was about the man, she was curious to be certain about him, but there was something in her gut that was telling her that he wasn’t a threat. At least not to her or Artemis.

“Yeah, but honestly, I was getting annoyed. Artemis wasn’t listening to anything I was trying to teach her and he wasn’t rude about it, so when he offered to help, I thought to hell with it.” Dinah said,

That really had Diana’s attention, “You let a civilian spar with one of the League’s…” she searched for the term the young ones seemed to prefer for a moment, “protege’s?” she asked,

“Guy is covered in military ink, I figured he was at least trained, and I just figured, hey, either he actually shows her something useful and maybe knocks her ass into gear, or he gets put in the ground for butting in. Either way, win-win, right?”

Diana just laughed, “Indeed. So, what happened?”

“Put her in the mat in less than a second,” Dinah answered, snapping her fingers for emphasis, “He moved quick too, faster than even someone who’s been trained to react fast should be able to. One second she’s standing there, the next she was on the ground that basically solidified it to me that this was not normal. I don’t care how long he served, I know who trained Artemis before we got to her, there is no way even a trained civie could do that, that quickly.”

Diana nodded; she had heard the rumors about the young Miss Crock’s upbringings. If this ‘Percy’ had indeed been able to defeat her so quickly and efficiently it spoke to something beyond the combat training most members of the American military received.

“Then there was the phone call,”

“Phone call?” Diana asked,

Dinah had the grace to at least appear sheepish at that, running a slightly embarrassed hand through her hair, “Might have listened to a phone call he had while he was changing in the bathroom, hey!” she countered, seeing Diana’s disapproving glance, “In my defense, he was shifty, and when he got the call, he left in a real hurry. Besides, who he was speaking to is a bit concerning,”

Diana gestured for Dinah to continue, “The name Jimmy Olson mean anything to you?”

Diana’s eyes widened, “Kal’s friend?” she asked,

Dinah nodded, “But it gets better. Not only does he supposedly have an in with Olson, but he name-dropped Lois. As in Clark’s Lois.”

“Oh dear…” Diana muttered under her breath, as the implications started to hit her.

Dinah hummed in agreement, “I could excuse one or two things as coincidental. He knows Jimmy Olson and Lois Lane? Ok sure, he was a cop in Metropolis, he made connections with the people who are well well-connected. I can buy that. But then he also just happens to stumble on a gym run by a former Leaguer, and run into two off-duty capes? Something about that doesn’t add up to me. You could call it a coincidence but we’ve worked the game too long to believe in those anymore.”

Diana agreed. In the world they lived in, and the battles the fought, against the types of people they fought; coincidence was not a luxury one could afford to believe in. Diana herself, had made far too many mistakes, because she did not connect the dots soon enough. It was enough to make her realize why Bruce was the way that he was, if there was even a remote chance that something was not as it appeared, they needed to treat it as a one-hundred percent certainty.

The beep from the computer drew Diana’s attention away from her thoughts, it had finished the calculation. Dinah, hearing the beep too, turned to begin scanning through the files. What she saw wasn’t exactly surprising, since it matched up with what she had seen and put together herself. Fairly average childhood, though he did seem to move around a lot. Military background, collegiate honors, and a quick path through the ranks of the Metropolis Police Department. There was nothing immediately noticeable that the League had flagged as suspicious.

She turned to make a comment to Diana but stopped when she saw her colleague’s expression. Diana’s mouth was slack-jawed, her eyes wide and round in shock and disbelief. Dinah tried to get her attention; waved her hands in front of her face and snapped her fingers but nothing seemed to faze the warrior, as she was lost in her own thoughts.

“Di,” She finally said sharply, “Talk to me here, who is he?” she demanded. It was obvious enough that Diana knew Percy, an oddity in and of itself, but the look on the Amazon’s face was starting to disturb Dinah. In all the years she had known her, Dinah had never known her comrade to be surprised or shocked by something.

“Gods above,” Diana finally managed to mutter, but it sounded more like a prayer, “I had thought-we had all thought…. I can’t believe he’s alive….”

“Diana!” Dinah said, a touch more forcefully, “Who. Is. He?”

Diana managed to pull her attention away from the screen, for a second her face scrunched up, as though she were trying to piece together a particularly difficult puzzle. When she spoke, her tone was quiet, subdued, and far removed from the confident sounding woman Dinah had come to know, “I guess you could say he’s my…half-cousin? Maybe full cousin? It is…difficult to explain.”

Dinah had no idea how to respond to that, thankfully, her mouth had always been a bit quicker than her mind, and took up the slack.

“Oh what the fuck”

A wordsmith, she was not.

Notes:

Here we go, this where things really start beginning to pop off. Got some pretty cool stuff planned for the next few chapters that I think will be a pretty interesting take on these kinds of crossovers never really seen before, so I’m pretty excited for that. Thanks for all the support on the story guys, it’s unbelievable, as always you all are awesome. Thanks for the love, and stay safe and healthy.

Love,

LilDB

Chapter 7: The Lost Hero

It took Dinah several moments before she composed herself enough to be able to speak. “What do you mean he’s your cousin? How?”

“The same way I believe anyone has blood relations, “Diana mused, “A man and a woman-”

“Cut the shit,” Dinah interrupted, “You know what I mean. How does an Amazon have any male blood relations? And what do you mean you thought he was dead?”

Diana sighed, and rubbed anxiously at her wrists as she contemplated her answer. She inwardly cursed herself for her outburst. Had she not said anything, she wouldn’t be in this position. While there would likely be no blowback if she answered truthfully, she knew that the Gods would not appreciate having all of their secrets being told. She also did not like the idea of exposing more people to the knowledge of demigods.

“Before I begin, I will tell you now that I cannot, and will not tell you everything. Partly out of respect for Perseus, his secrets and his life are his own, but also because my interactions with Perseus were limited. I had more direct contact with his half-sister.”

“Half-sister?” Dinah asked, but Diana waved the question away,

“I will do my best to explain as much as I am comfortable with. As you are no doubt aware, the gods have not disappeared.” she said

Dinah nodded, memories of battles with the god of war resurfacing as the Amazon spoke, “Like in the days of old, they have maintained their power, and adapted to the times, moving with the ever-changing powers of the west. Around the turn of the nineteenth century, the gods moved Olympus to the United States. Once here, they did as they always did, maintained their realms and…had relations with mortals. Perseus is the result of one of those unions. As in the days of old, Demigods, the children of mortals and gods, are born out of carnal desire, but also to fill a purpose.” Diana explained, “The gods are bound by rules more ancient than can be rightly remembered. For the most part, they are bound to their domains, and are unable or unwilling to interfere in the lives of mortals. There are exceptions of course; as the god of war has proven, all laws have loopholes that can be exploited.”

“Demigods, as a result, often act in the place of their parents, running errands, taking quests at their behest, and most unfortunately, fighting the wars that they create.” Diana’s face creased in obvious discomfort. She was embarrassed by the actions of her kin.

“Around nine years ago, there were two wars fought. One between the gods and their forbearers, the Titans, and a second a year later, against Mother Earth and her army of Giants.”

Dinah’s eyes widened in surprise, but didn’t interrupt, even though her mind raced at the revelation. Doing the math in her head, she sighed sadly, as she realized that there was a distinct likelihood that the League had not yet been founded given the timeline of the events. They couldn’t have helped even if they had wanted to.

Diana read the look on her friend’s face and answered the unasked question, “As I’m sure you remember, the League had not yet been established nine years ago, and I was still on Themyscira. More to the point however, the gods are insistent on keeping the affairs of the divine in house. They would not have accepted outside help, even if it had been offered. But I am getting off track, as I was saying there were two wars, and Perseus played leading roles in both.”

Diana began pacing back and forth as she spoke, “I did not meet Perseus until the second war, Mother Earth had managed to force open the gates to the great pit on the island, and we spent several days fighting off the incursion. When the battle was won, we learned of the battle the demigods were waging. I left behind a detachment of Amazons to safeguard the gates, just in case, but took the bulk of our forces to aid in the battle. When we arrived, Perseus was orchestrating the defense. For three days we fought, we bled, and our friends and family died, as we tried to buy as much time as we could.”

“Buy time for what?” Dinah couldn’t help but blurt out, but Diana just nodded at her in understanding.

“My apologies. While Perseus and I fought off the forces of the Earth Mother as they attacked one of the few safe havens for the demigods, seven demigods were dispatched to seal the Earth Mother away again. They succeeded, and with the aid of the Olympians, the Earth Mother was defeated. There was a meeting, between the gods and their children, one that I was not privy to, but that was the last time I ever saw Perseus again. It was the last time anyone ever saw him again. He just…disappeared.” Diana fell silent as she became awash in her own memories, but Dinah’s mind was racing.

Diana’s comments had done everything but put her worries at ease. There was a potentially very powerful demigod, just roaming around in Gotham city. “How strong is he?” she asked suddenly,

Diana started as she was brought out of her thoughts. She crossed her arms over her chest and dipped her head slightly as she thought, “Well, there are…factors involved, depending on where he is, but assuming best case scenario for him? I would say he has the potential to be my level in terms of raw power and ability. His gift for swordplay is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before and he is gifted with spears and tridents as well.”

Dinah’s heart was hammering against her chest, as her mind raced. She had to force herself to calm down, she was majorly overreacting. Thus far, Percy had done nothing suspicious, or worthy of concern. Furthermore, Batman would have been all over him the minute he entered the city if he had truly been a threat worth worrying over.

“Is he a threat?” she asked.

“I do not believe so, no.” Diana answered slowly, “As I said, the bulk of our time together was spent fighting, and this was many years ago now and people do change, so I fear I may not be an accurate judge of his character now. However,” she said before Dinah could say anything, “I have found in my time that you discover the true worth of a person in the heat of combat. As you well know, the true merit of a person comes out when their life is on the line. What I saw from Perseus during the fighting was reassuring. He is a selfless leader, willing to put himself in harm’s way if it means that the person next to him lives even half a moment longer. His actions saved the lives of not only countless demigods, but my sisters as well…” Diana trailed off again, her eyes once more clouding over in memory.

Dinah thought on what Diana had told her. Diana was a good judge of character, and she was right. The true nature of a person, the ugliness or holiness that’s inside someone’s heart, comes out when they are in mortal danger. It reassured some of her worries. She also had to remind herself that he lived and worked in the heart of Superman’s home for years. If was up to something nefarious, chances were good that he would have done something, or at least he wouldn’t have moved from the home of one super, to another.

Maybe she was overreacting to this entire situation. Percy had done nothing worthy of this kind of deep dive into his life, other than try and do his job, and be unfortunate enough that he kept crossing the path of major League members. She was beginning to think that she might have been a little too quick on the draw to begin diving into his life and history as she had. But she hadn’t survived in this world for as long as she had without being careful. Appearances could be deceiving, and she would not apologize for being careful. That being said, she would keep a loose eye on him. Hell, she knew where he worked out now, so perhaps the occasional, accidental meeting was bound to happen. It was a compromise she could live with; she would be able to assuage her own personal concerns of having such a powerful entity in her own backyard, and she wouldn’t feel guilty about prying into the past of a man who had seemingly done nothing wrong.

“Who all knows?” she asked, as the though occurred to her that if there was a half-god running around Batman’s backyard, he’d want to know about it.

One of Diana’s brows raised, “Are you referring to the League?” she asked and Dinah nodded, “Kal, Bruce, and now you are the only ones in the League aware of their existence. Demigods have a hard-enough life, and I do not wish to add to their problems by sicking the entirety of the League on them,” Dinah nodded at the explanation, even though she still had questions, she could tell that Diana had already told her more than she was comfortable with. Diana continued speaking, “If you’re referring to the League’s knowledge of Perseus, well…”

“The answer is no, we did not,” came a deep and familiar voice from behind them. It was only years of working with the man that kept Dinah from jumping at the sound of Batman. Turning around, both Diana and Dinah blinked in surprise. In the years that Dinah had known the man, she could count on one hand the number of times she had been in the same room as Batman when he was out of costume. This would be added to that list, in exchange for the armored combat suit he normally wore, the Dark Knight was instead dressed in an immaculate three-piece suit. However, even when out of costume, the man’s default expression seemed to be a scowl. The scowl even more pronounced now, bordering on a full-on glare, directed at the Amazon.

Diana whistled, “Looking sharp Bruce, special occasion?” she asked teasingly. One of the many reasons that Dinah admired the woman, was her ability to be seemingly unaffected by Batman’s intensity.

Batman ignored the question, “Care to explain why you didn’t tell me I had a demigod in my city?” he growled,

“How long were you listening to us?” Diana asked, ignoring the question entirely. Had she not been worried about becoming Batman’s focus for his ire, Dinah would have laughed. Few others got away with giving Batman hell like Diana did.

Batman’s jaw clenched tightly. “Diana,” he rumbled lowly, he wasn’t going to ask again.

Sighing overly dramatically, complete with an enormous eye roll, Diana placed her hands on her hips and adopted the most pitying expression she could muster, “Well,” she said, as though she were talking a simple child, “Since I didn’t know he was alive until about ten minutes ago, I don’t see how I could have known to tell you. Besides, it’s not like you ever told me he was in Gotham.”

Given how hard the man was now clenching his teeth together, Dinah was beginning to genuinely worry if the Dark Knight might accidentally chip a tooth.

Batman continued to glower at the Amazon for several tense moments, “We will be discussing this,” he ground out, clearly perturbed. Diana just rolled her eyes, smirk still present. Batman rounded on Dinah, “Before this…” he searched for the word, “Revelation, I was looking for you Canary.”

“Oh?” she asked, her interest piqued, “What’s up?”

Striding past her and to the computer, he took a quick look at the detailed report on Percy Jackson that was on the screen, before exiting out it. With a few deft key strokes, a new file came up. It was the record the league had on the newest iteration of a criminal organization, The Royal Flush Gang. Pictures and information came onto the screen describing several, very colorfully dressed individuals, all with the card game motif.

“How up to speed are you with the Royal Flush Gang?” he asked, turning to look at her,

Dinah shrugged, “As much as anyone but you I suppose,” she answered honestly, “International crime syndicate, wanted in several countries. They tend to stick to the classics, armed robbery, jewel theft. They’re powerless but always well-armed, I know that Interpol has been gunning for them for a few years now. Why? What’s going down?”

Bruce nodded his head at her summary, “I received word that they had been lying low in Gotham for the past few months. Most likely they have been trying to hide until the heat from the heist in Monte Carlo died down,” Dinah nodded, several months ago the gang had broken into several well secured banks in Monaco. They had gotten away with several million dollars had been in hiding ever since. It was the biggest score, and the riskiest undertaking the gang had taken since they started coming into play a few years ago.

“Now is our opportunity to draw them out of hiding,” Batman continued, “Tonight Bruce Wayne is hosting a charity auction at the Gotham Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art. There will be several, very valuable pieces being moved. I’ve spent the last several leaking rumors that Batman and Robin will be out of the country, in the hopes of drawing them out of hiding.”

Dinah smiled in understanding, “Give them a target so alluring that they can’t help but jump at the opportunity for a quick score. Made even easier since the Dynamic Duo are out of town.” she said, nodding in appreciation, “Smart.” then she frowned as a thought occurred to her, “Isn’t it a little risky inviting an attack with so many civilians around?” She asked

Batman nodded, “It is, which is why I want you there. Robin and I would have no trouble taking them down but I want this dealt with quickly. An extra pair of hands will ensure that we can finish things quickly, before the fighting gets out of hand.”

“You know Bruce,” Diana interjected, “My shift does end in a few hours, if you want an extra set of hands, I’d be more than happy to help out.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Batman rejected calmly, to which Diana just placed a hand on her hip exasperatedly,

“Of course not,” Diana said, looking towards the heavens as though they might grant her greater patience, “We wouldn’t want to make things too easy, now would we?”

“Don’t be deliberately obtuse,” Batman countered, “I have no doubts in your capabilities Diana, but I don’t want to cause deliberate property damage if I can help it.” He ignored the heated glare directed his way, but she otherwise didn’t object. Diana was wise enough to know her own shortcomings, and she was well aware that she did have a tendency to break things during a fight.

“She does raise a good point Batman,” Dinah said thoughtfully, “Not to say I don’t appreciate the invite, but why me?”

Batman turned back to the woman, “Because if you’re going to be operating in Gotham, it’s going to be on my terms.” Dinah scowled but didn’t object. She knew better than to argue with the man, it would go nowhere fast, and likely see him try and drive her out of Gotham permanently. Batman was notoriously territorial of his city, but it wasn’t like Dinah didn’t understand why. If more powerful metas began calling Gotham their home, it would start to attract the kinds of elements that saw cities like Metropolis or Coast City get leveled on a far too regular basis.

“I don’t know Batman,” Dinah said slowly, “I just hate the idea of clumping so many civilians into such a tight space. It feels like we’ll be unnecessarily putting people at risk. It doesn’t matter how fast we are; one stray shot is all it can take.”

Again, the Dark Knight nodded his head in understanding and approval. He could always count on Canary to have her head in the right space, and have her priorities in check, it was one of the reasons why he didn’t make a fuss when she decided to move back to Gotham.

“Your concerns are understandable,” he answered, and clicked a few more keys on the terminal, bringing up a display of the architecture of the building, “But ultimately unnecessary. I have already taken the precautions necessary to mitigate the risks to the civilians. When the press did its junket on the auction, I made sure to show them where the paintings were being held,” He clicked a few more keys, and a display of a room, just off of where the auction was being held, appeared. “This is the storeroom behind the stage. All of the paintings and artifacts up for auction will be held here. This is where you and Batgirl will be.”

Dinah quirked a quizzical brow at that, she hadn’t realized that the…. partners, would be involved in the action. Though she shouldn’t have been surprised. Batman continued speaking, “The two of you will be the acting security for the auction, which will allow you access to the room, as well as the security lock,” he clicked another key and the image of the room shifted again, as the doors and windows were locked down in the room. “When the gang attempts to enter, you flip the switch, and lock them in the room, where we can take them down with minimal threat to the civilians.”

Dinah whistled in appreciation. Let it never be said that Batman was anything but thorough. A question popped into her mind, though she felt she already knew the answer before he even said anything, “So if I’m locking the room down, how are you and I assume Robin, going to get in?”

Batman just turned a flat stare her direction, “We’ll be there.” Dinah just shook her head, but didn’t refute the point.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Batman placed an invitation on the keyboard, “The Auction begins at Seven.” Then he turned and left the room.

“Nice talk Bruce. Pleasure as always,” Diana muttered, more to herself than to Dinah. Shaking her head in exasperation for the man’s brusqueness, she turned back to Dinah, “So, I guess, you have auction to get ready for.”

Dinah snorted “Apparently so…”

It would an interesting night.

BREAK

“Alright, so we pull this kid over right, and while my partner is giving ‘em the third degree, I hear something coming from the tailgate. So, I go over, and the bed of this truck, it’s got one of those big carbon-fiber tonneau covers, and I just smack the shit out of the top of the cover,”

Montoya snorted, shoveling lo mein into her mouth as her eyes stayed fixed to the screen in front of them, “What happened?” she asked, around a mouthful of noodles.

Percy was laughing now, as the memory played in his mind, and as he watched the tv in front of them, “I have never heard someone scream as loud as the kids in the back did. Well, naturally, that gets my partner’s attention, so he comes strolling back and we pop the tailgate of the truck.”

“How many kids were back there?” Montoya asked, laughing,

“Three, but that’s not even the best part,” Percy said, and he continued speaking as Montoya gave him an enthusiastic arm wave, “Well like I said, the kid behind the wheel of the truck was swerving, which is why we pulled them over. Thought they were drinking you know? Turns out, they were just trying to screw with their friends in the back, you know, throw ‘em around a little? Well, one of kids in the trucked couldn’t hold her liquor, so when we pull ‘em out of the tailgate, she just turns, and projectile vomits all over Matthews,”

Montoya, who was already chuckling, burst into outright guffaws. “Anyway,” Percy continued, when he got his own laughter under control, “We wrote all the kids up for Minors in Possession,”

“No drunk tank?” Montoya asked,

“Nah,” Percy said, “Those MIP’s are already a bit of bastard, no need to pile on top of it. Kid are gonna drink, so I say punish them for being dumb enough to get caught but there’s no need to ruin their lives over it.” the conversation lulled after that, falling into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional slurping of noodles and clanging of utensils. They had been cooped up in this small conference room in the precinct for nearly four hours. They had gotten a glimpse of someone walking with miss Silver on her way out of the building a few hours ago, however the man in question seemed to know where the camera’s in the building had been, because every shot of his face had been blocked.

Montoya and Percy had then spent the time since then, combing through the footage of the adjoining building and traffic cams to see if they might catch their guy slipping up.

“Wait,” Montoya said suddenly, “Pause it there!” Percy immediately did as she asked and paused the recording. On the screen was a large black four door suburban. It was almost passed the camera, and the front of the truck was already passing by the camera, however, the back-rear window was down, and there, looking directly at the camera, was a young girl, with snow-white hair.

“Atta girl,” Percy muttered softly, he didn’t know if it had been on purpose, but Percy chose to believe that Silver had known that she was in danger, and tried to do something to help out a possible investigation. He then rewound the tape, and slowed it down until the front of the truck came into view, and they finally got their first look at the man in question. They got lucky, they were driving directly into the sun, and the front seat was illuminated perfectly.

He had a hollow face, with concave cheek bones, and a sharp angular nose that angled slightly to the right, as though it had been broken and hadn’t been reset properly. He had dark black hair, that laid low across his forehead. Pulling up a menu on the TV, Percy synced the recording with an app on the tablet to his right, taking a screenshot of the image, he then saved the image into a data file.

“Got you, you son of a bitch,” Percy muttered, and shared a look of triumph with his partner. Sure, they still had to try and track the bastard down, but now that they had a face to identify, they could run him through the various criminal databases they had access to, and could hopefully begin tracking him down. The rational part of him told Percy that he shouldn’t be celebrating just yet, and that the likelihood of trying to find him was slim to none, especially with a several day head-start, but Percy was determined to try and remain hopeful. It was the only way to stay semi-sane in this line of work.

Getting out of their chairs, the detectives hurried out of the room, and made their way back to their division. Once they were back at their desks, Percy took the tablet, and air-synched it to a database on his personal terminal. Uploading the file, he had taken, he took the data and began shaping the image in a program on the computer. There wasn’t much they could do to clean up the image, but thankfully, the power and quality of modern traffic cameras had come a long way, and the image was clear enough to be more than useable.

Once Percy had shaped the image in a clean enough way that the databases could use it properly, he input the data into as many federal programs he could. NCIC, DOC, and more, the programs flashed for several moments, before a picture finally came onto the screen. The image on the computer was a much cleaner photo than the one the traffic camera had caught, and the man look essentially the same in the older photo as he did when the camera caught him.

Clicking on the information, a detailed report came, and Montoya began reading some of the highlights aloud over Percy’s shoulder, “Alberto Romanji, twenty-eight years old, roughly six-foot-one, hundred and seventy pounds. He’s never been arrested but has been questioned as a potential suspect for at least five suspected killings across the country,” Percy clicked over to a different screen this one showing what the FBI had on him. Much of the information was the same, but some of it was illuminating,

“Shit,” Montoya muttered, and pointed at the note that had caught her attention before Percy could ask anything. “Known associate to the Falcone Syndicate based out of Gotham, believed to be an enforcer or hitman for the family. All attempts at prosecution have been sidelined, and on more than one occasion crucial evidence has been known to go missing, or deemed admissible. Shit on a stick Metro…”

“Thought I left the mob behind when I left New York,” Percy said softly, but Montoya snorted in derision,

“No such luck Metro, the Falcone’s have connections to La Cosa Nostra that goes back nearly to the founding of the damn city. Damn,” she grumbled, absently running a hand through her hair, “If our boy is connected, we’re going to need to play this very carefully,”

“How?” Percy asked, “Not for nothing Monty, I have faith in us, but there is no way we find this guy on our own. And if I’m inferring this right, if we put a BOLO out on Al here, we risk running his ass underground. The Mob has connections we can only dream of, you have to know that if he gets spooked, we probably never get a clean shot at him,”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Montoya pondered. Swiveling in his chair, Percy turned to his partner,

“What?”

“Well,” she said carefully taking a look around to make sure no one else was around to hear their conversation. She didn’t have hard proof, but she had her suspicions that more than one cop in the One-Seven was on Carmine Falcone’s dime, “It’s like you said, we know what this guy is after. We don’t necessarily know why, but we know that he needs whatever it is that code unlocks. I know the Family; I’ve had more than my fair share of run-ins with them. They don’t tolerate failures, or half-measure. I don’t know if Alberto here was meant to kill Silver or not, but I’m guessing your earlier assessment was right, and that they’re after that code. If he tries to cut and run before that code gets into the hands of the Family, our boy here can count his days left on this planet on one hand.”

Percy crossed his arms over his chest as he sat back in his chair, “Alright then, it looks like you got something cooking in that big brain of yours Monty. What are you thinking,”

Montoya however, just shook her head, sending a meaningful look around the room as she did so. Percy got the hint, and made a mental note to have a talk with her later about just how bad things were in the precinct. She had painted a pretty dour picture that morning, but he still didn’t quite know what to think of it all. Still, Percy just nodded in understanding and checked his watch.

“We should get going, the auction is going to be starting soon and I want to get there before we miss her.”

Montoya groaned, she had been less than pleased when Percy had told her about what he had found, apparently, she and Selina Kyle had a bit of a history. Something about some bad run-ins when Kyle was still running around in leather.

“Are you sure we still need to go?” She begged, “I mean, we got the guy’s photo now, we know what he’s after-”

“No, we really don’t,” Percy insisted, “We know he wants the code; we don’t know what that code is for. You really think that if Falcone is this desperate for it, we shouldn’t chase down any potential lead to figure out what the hell it is?”

Montoya just groaned again, her head tilted skyward and her eyes closed, as though she were praying to the divine to grant her the willpower to get through this.

“You know I’m right Monty,”

“I know, I know,” she relented,
Percy felt a little guilty, he knew that she was sacrificing some of the limited free time that they had in order to go to this auction. For Percy, putting this kind of overtime in was no big deal, it was just him, and honestly, when he wasn’t working, he was going a little stir crazy. But he knew that he wasn’t most people. Most people had social lives, friends outside of work, loved ones that wanted to see them when they came home. Not him though, most of his friends either still left on deployment, or dead, or all the way across the country. He made another mental note to find something to make it up for Montoya, take over an evening shift or something.

With that thought, he stood up from his chair, grabbed his sport coat, and followed his partner out of the precinct.

BREAK

“This is it; we’ve found it, we have found hell on earth. Congrats Metro, you should be proud.”

“I’m not dignifying that,”

“You’d need to have dignity first.”

“Oh hoh, someone thinks they’re being cute.”

“Bitch, you know I’m adorable,”

Percy just elected to ignore his snarking partner, and instead, strode into the overly ostentatious walkway into the Gotham Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art. It took Percy less than a second before he felt instantly uncomfortable. He had never been one for formal functions, hell the last time he had been to anything remotely black-tie was when an ex dragged him to some high-society function back in college.

Pausing in the ornate entrance hall, Percy realized that he had absolutely no idea where to start looking. He could hear Monty snort beside him, clearly understanding his hesitation. “This way Metro, if I know Kyle, she’ll be skulking around the bar.” Opting to trust his partner, Percy didn’t respond and just followed her. As they walked, Percy did his best to ignore the clear looks of derision being directed his way. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to dirty looks, he’d dealt with them literally every day of his life until entering the service, but but it still irked him.

Choosing to focus on his partner, mostly to keep himself from smacking a particularly haughty looking socialite, he fished his badge from under his neck and let it dangle over his dress shirt as he talked to Monty. “So,” he said softly, “What’s your history with Kyle?”

She turned to look at him, her expression frosty, “Who said that I had a history with her?”

“You did,” Percy said simply, meeting her gaze evenly as he smoothly stepped out of the way of an oncoming waiter, “When you looked like you wanted to shoot me when I mentioned that was why we were coming here tonight,”

Montoya snorted but didn’t reply at first, opting to weave around a group of women dressed in lavish evening gowns. One of them, a beautiful redhead, with dark green eyes, and a smattering of freckles, caught his gaze and held it as a contemplative look came across her face. Percy almost stopped in his tracks as he stared, there was something oddly familiar about the woman that he couldn’t place. However, he quickly turned his attention away as he caught sight of Montoya on the other side of the group, and Percy had to nearly jog to catch up.

“My only history with Kyle,” she was saying, having decided to come clean with him during their brief separation, “Is that I spent my first three years as a detective working the robbery desk, arresting her at least eight times, and never seeing her in jail for longer than a week. That’s my goddamn problem with her. For the likes of Selina Kyle, rule of law might as well be guidelines at a goddamn roller-rink”

“Why detective, I had no idea you felt so strongly about me,” came a smooth, seductive murmur that was entirely too close to be comfortable. Turning around, Percy took an involuntary step back as he found himself chest-to-chest with a stunningly pretty dark-haired woman. She wore a snug fitting black dress, and enough make-up to enhance her natural beauty. She had the air of a woman who understood that she was often the prettiest and smartest woman in the room, and it set Percy on edge immediately. Even had he not known what was in her file, Selina Kyle would have cut an intimidating presence.

“Hello there,” she said softly, her gaze raking over his considerably larger form, “Detective Montoya, it’s not my birthday, and yet you’ve brought me the most delightful little gift. Who might you be?” her voice was soft, barely audible over the rest of the din of the room, and held the same silkiness that he normally attributed to nymphs.

Percy knew that for the most part, this little game of hers, was just that, a game. A performance to throw him off. It was smart, pretty, intelligent women could often be very intimidating, and Percy was sure that her little trick worked the majority of the time. However, a man didn’t enter puberty, and have water nymphs and dryads attempting to seduce him without growing at least some immunity to femininity.

“Detective Jackson,” Percy said brusquely, his tone making it clear that he was not in the mood for her little games. “You must be Selina Kyle”

Montoya snorted, but her attention was suddenly diverted away from Percy and Kyle. Her eyes were locked on something across the room, and Percy turned to see what caught his normally unflappable partner’s attention. However, what had her attention was not what he was expecting. She was staring at a woman, with rich scarlet hair and deep green eyes. Percy snorted, apparently, he was the only one getting distracted by red-haired women.

He turned his attention back to miss Kyle, who had been watching the byplay with an amused smirk on her face, “Well it certainly is a pleasure detective.” raising a hand she delicately threw a stray strand of hair over her shoulder, somehow making the benign gesture somewhat erotic, “I haven’t seen you around before, you must the new hotshot from Metropolis I’ve been hearing so much about.” Once again, her gaze raked over his form unabashedly, “The rumors certainly didn’t do you justice.”

Well that was certainly interesting, to say the least. Percy could count on two hands the number of people who knew that he had moved to Gotham. Clearly miss Kyle was connected enough to know who the new players coming in and out of Gotham were. The information put him even more ill at ease and he found himself subconsciously tensing his shoulders. She clearly noticed the sudden change in his demeanor but ignored it.

“So, what can I do for one of Gotham’s…finest?” she asked, “I promise that whatever it was, it wasn’t me. I’ve been a very good girl,” her eyes turned smoky as she whispered, “Well, mostly anyways.”

Percy just ignored it, she was just trying to throw him off and make him uncomfortable. “You’re not in any trouble ma’am,” he said, making an effort to be as professional sounding as he could, “We’re working a homicide investigation and we believe that you may have important knowledge pertaining to the victim,”

“Oh?” she asked, a look of utter curiosity crossing over her face, “Who was the poor soul this time?”

Percy shot a look over to his partner, he was going to leave the decision to his partner, but when he saw that Montoya’s attention was still fixed on the woman with the red hair, Percy sighed and made a judgement call. He put a hand on her bare shoulder, ignoring the sudden heat emanating from the exposed flesh and leaned in closely to whisper into her ear.

The woman was about to make an indecent remark but stopped when Percy whispered softly into her ear, “Silver St. Cloud was shot in an alley two nights ago.” And just like that, her entire demeanor changed. Her shoulders tightened and a pained and shocked expression came across her delicate features. The change only lasted for a fleeting second, but it told Percy more than he needed. As fast as she changed, her demeanor returned to the smoky and seductive persona she had introduced herself as, but he could see in her eyes a hardened anger that surprised him.

“Follow me detective, I know somewhere we can speak…more intimately.”

Nodding Percy made to grab his partner’s attention, but she just waved him off, “You go ahead Jackson, I need to…look into something,” and before he could say anything she stormed off in the direction of the red-haired woman. Percy was confused by his partner’s actions, there was something in her demeanor that told him that she was extremely agitated about something, but his gut was telling him that it was a personal matter and wasn’t worth getting himself involved in, at least, not yet.

Instead he turned his attention back to Selina Kyle who was patiently waiting for him. She didn’t seem fazed by the lack of his partner’s presence and turned on her heel and began smoothly gliding through the room, in the direction of a doorway behind the large stage set up for the auction.

Notes:

First things first, some house cleaning, I fucked up in chapter 4, Dinah was supposed to be wearing a brunette wig over her hair when she met Percy at the gym. I have since edited that chapter and re-uploaded it. Seems like a minor detail, but it is important to the story overall so if you didn’t want to go back and re-read it, I saved you some time here.

Alright so this is the last warning, as I’ve said before, this story is majorly AU. And by that, I mean I’m literally just throwing PJO canon out the window cause fuck it, this is the story I want to tell. You’ll learn more as the story progresses, but yes, just to clear it up, Percy was not part of the Seven, he was still very active in the war effort, and played a decidedly major role in the story, but he was not the hero we read about in Uncle Rick’s books. He’s something different. I also want to get this out of the way now; this is not going to be one of those “Poseidon has another kid and Percy is ignored and betrayed by all of his friends” stories. I hate that shit, and I have no patience for it. This is one hundred-percent not that, instead it’s something that came to mind after reading other very well written stories on this site, as well as my own personal ideas. All of that being said, thank you guys so much for all of the support this story has gotten, seriously, the amount of positive feedback I’ve been getting is unreal. I’m glad you all are enjoying the ride, and I hope you’ll enjoy the things that are to come, because holy shit things are going to start popping off. As always, let me know what you think, and please, let me hear your theories as to who this Percy is, and what happened to get him where he is now. I would love nothing more than to hear them, and I think I’ve sprinkled enough hints to give some clues. Thanks again, stay safe, and I love you all!
Love,

LilDB

Chapter 8: Hero Found

Dinah sighed as she fiddled with her gloves. Waiting was the worst part of jobs like this. Most heroes were people of action; they were act now and act fast types of personalities. It was a necessity when lives were on the line. And so, having to wait for seemingly hours at a time for a threat that might not even be real, could be hell on the nerves and the patience.

Her impatience was only doubled by what Diana had revealed about Gotham’s newest detective. Part of her was still floored by the basics of it. The smaller more rationale part of her was telling her that the existence of demigods shouldn’t be all that surprising. They had fought against myths and legends before, and that was nothing of the fact that she had at least three different aliens in her phone’s contact list. But still, the knowledge that the gods of old were real, and had children running around doing their bidding was a troubling thought.

There was something immensely off-putting knowing that there were hundreds of children out there, born only to serve to the bidding of beings with power that bordered on incomprehensible. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t as unsurprising as it should have been. Her gaze unconsciously drifting to her partner for the evening, an athletic sixteen-year old girl with long auburn hair that poked out the back of a bat themed cowl.

When Diana had first told her of the demigods, Dinah had been disgusted. Even as a trained psychologist, she couldn’t fathom the kind of arrogance involved in having a child for the sole purpose of doing their bidding. To throw kids not even old enough to drive or vote, into a war that had nothing to with them. But the more she considered it, the more she found herself unnerved by the amount of similarities between the lives of demigods and mortals. It wasn’t all that different to people like Batman, Arrow, or the Flash taking in their young charges and throwing them into the war against the evils of the world. Hell, it wasn’t even all that different to normal kids getting drafted into military service during times of war.

She stifled a groan and tried to fight off an oncoming headache. Her antsy-ness was distracting her, which was always unacceptable but doubly so when she was here with one of the young…partners. She was supposed to be setting an example, not getting distracted by internal philosophical debates.

Thankfully, she was brought out of her musings by the sound of the click of the lock to the gallery room. She shot a look to Batgirl, who had been fiddling with something on her gauntlet, and with a nod, both heroes hid themselves inside the large storage room. Dinah hid herself between a stack of cracks, and positioned herself in a spot where she could sell see the majority of the room through a small crack between two crates. It took her a few moments, but she did eventually spot Batgirl’s hiding place, among the top rows of a stack of crates near the back of the room.

Dinah figured that this wasn’t the start to the heist, she was having her doubts if there would even be a heist if she were honest, but she preferred to err on the side of caution whenever possible.

Just after she had gotten into position, the door opened and voices began filtering into the storage room.

“See, I told you I could get us in here, you should have a little faith in me detective,” came the silky voice that Dinah recognized. Her eyes widened in surprise as Selina Kyle strutted backwards into the room, her attention not on the room itself, but on whomever was coming with her. Dinah’s fists began to tighten as her jaw clenched. She had thought that Selina had gone clean for good this time. She had told her as such the last time she had seen the former thief. Something about being serious enough about her desire for Batman to give up on heisting for good. Dinah knew she shouldn’t have bought the act though. She knew better than most that some people truly couldn’t help themselves.

If she had been surprised by Selina, then her companion caused Dinah’s jaw to drop.

“You know, I should probably arrest you for that. I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure that having a lock-pick set violates your parole.” said the smooth and deep voice of Percy Jackson, as his tall frame lumbered into the room. What in the hell was he doing here? There was absolutely no way that this could a coincidence. There was no way. One person did not just keep accidentally stumbling onto superheroes like this. Her thoughts went back to Diana and what she had told her, and Dinah tried to calm herself and reassure herself that if Percy Jackson had Diana’s trust, then she should be ok with that. That was when she remembered the phone call she had overheard. Her breathing returned to normal as the tight constricting in her chest began to release.

Ok so maybe Percy Jackson just had the worst possible luck on the planet, and that was why he kept having these close interactions with superheroes. Part of her wanted to confront them, if Bats’ plan worked, then they would be right in the line of fire, but her curiosity warred with her instincts.

Her curiosity won out.

Resigning herself to keep to her hiding spot, Dinah blinked in rapid succession, and activated her contact lens’ recording device, as she listens into the conversation.

Selina was speaking as Percy closed the door behind him, “What happened,” she demanded, and for a moment, Percy hesitated. Selina crossed her arms and glared at the man. “Detective, if you want my help, then I need to know what’s going on here.”

Sighing, Percy rubbed a hand through his hair, “I suppose I don’t need to tell you that what you’re about to hear is strictly confidential?” she snorted in derision and Percy seemed to take that as a sign that she wasn’t going to say anything. “Well,” he began, leaning back against the close door and matching Selina’s stance, “Like I told you. Two nights ago, Montoya and I were called to a scene at an alley on the corner of Snyder and Miller. When we got there, we discovered the body of Silver St. Cloud. She had been shot three times. Twice in the back as she tried to run away and once more between the eyes.” Percy’s voice was hardened, and he spoke thickly with emotion.

Dinah looked briefly away, her eyes catching Batgirl in her hiding spot, watching the conversation intently, her shoulders tight, her eyes hard, and her jaw clenched. Dinah then understood that this investigation must have been why Percy had been at the young girl’s school the other day. Dinah turned her attention back to the conversation,

“Dammit,” Selina said under her breath, he eyes dropping from Percy, to stare intently at the ground.

“I take it you were close to the family?” Percy asked, pulling out a pen and small notebook. Apparently, he was a little more old-school than most of the detectives she knew.

Selina nodded, her eyes leaving the floor to stare harshly into Percy’s face.

“I’ve known Grace and Alexander for years, they helped me get my start in the business. I interned as Grace’s personal assistant after college. I…I’d known Silver since she was in diapers.” She was quiet for a moment. Percy was writing something in his pad. When he stopped, he looked back up, but for a moment he didn’t say anything. He just let the woman have a moment to quietly compose herself.

“How can I help?” Selina asked after a few moments, wiping at her eyes as she tried to stem the potential flow of tears,

“Do the St. Clouds have any enemies? Anybody who would be angry enough to target their daughter to get to them?” Percy asked without any preamble,

Selina adopted an almost pitying expression, “Sweetheart,” she said, her tone on the cusp of being condescending, “Grace and Alex are some of the most influential dealers of high value pieces on the planet. They have galleries on nearly every continent, every major city, and their family dates back to damn near the founding of Gotham. Yes, they have enemies. Any number of whom, would not hesitate to hurt Silver to get to them.”

“Anything that stands out, miss Kyle. You said you were close to the family. Did either of the parents say anything that stands out. Imply anything, that seemed…off.”

Selina was quiet for several seconds, her eyes narrowed in thought, “Well...there was something. A few weeks ago, I was helping them plan the movement of several key pieces to their gallery. Grace and I had been talking, and something…slipped out. It was so casual that I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”

“What was it?” Percy asked, and Dinah could hear the mounting excitement in his voice,

“Grace said that Christian Falcone had been more…hostile, lately.”

“Falcone?” Percy asked, “As in the crime family?”

“Hon, I know you’re new in town, but you need to have someone bring you up to speed. Yes, that Falcone. Christian is the eldest son. Grace said that he’d been sending threatening messages.”

Dinah could almost taste the sarcasm in Percy’s next statement, “And you didn’t think that a threat from the son of biggest mob boss in town was concerning?”

Selina scoffed, “Don’t be deliberately combative detective. Christian’s had an overinflated sense of self-worth his entire life. He’s been sending vaguely threatening messages to Grace for years. It happens so regularly, it was almost a game. ‘Oh, what was it this time, threatening to have our entire gallery mysteriously burned to the ground? Or maybe a few pieces from our next delivery get stolen?’ Forgive me for not thinking anything of it.”

“Why was he so obsessed with the St. Clouds in particular?” Percy asked,

Selina shrugged, “Christian fancies himself something of a dealer. He’s not particularly good at it, wouldn’t know a Kahlo from a Cézanne. But because of who daddy is, people entertain his delusions. Well, everyone except me and the St. Clouds. We won’t be bullied by some wannabe gangster who doesn’t understand his place.”

“Any idea what he was threatening them with this time?” Percy asked, once again writing quickly in his pad.

Selina frowned again, biting her lip and crossing her arms as she tried to think,

“No,” she admitted after a moment, “We were close, but they held their cards pretty close to the chest. Whatever it was that Christian had said this time, she wouldn’t tell me. If I’m honest, that alone is enough to be scary.” her brow furrowed for a moment, before she looked up at him, “Why are you asking me all these questions, shouldn’t you be talking to them? To Grace and Alexander? Where are they?”

Percy shook his head, “We don’t know. I was actually hoping you might have an answer to that. I’ve called them at least a dozen times since we found Silver, but when someone does answer the line, I’m given the goddamn ring around.”

“That’s…that’s not normal,” Selina mused softly, once more biting at her lip worriedly, “Where Silver is…was…Where Silver was involved, Grace and Alexander would tear the whole damn world apart if it made her happy. They loved their baby girl.”

“Would you mind giving them a call sometime for me then?” Percy asked, “They might be more inclined, or at least their assistants might be more inclined, to speak to you than to a cop.”

Selina nodded, “I don’t bring my phone with me to work functions, otherwise I’d do it right now.”

Percy nodded a quiet thanks, before he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he swiped through it for a moment, “One last thing, miss Kyle,” he pulled the phone up, and showed her a picture of something, the screen was facing away from her, so Dinah couldn’t see what it was, “Do you recognize this bracelet?” he asked,

Selina squinted at it, grabbing the phone out of Percy’s hand so she could get a better look at the image, “That’s Silver’s bracelet,” she murmured softly, not looking away from the photo. “Grace gave that to her for her birthday a few weeks ago.” she looked up, “Where did you find this?”

“In a pile of garbage, a few feet away from where we found Silver. It doesn’t have any other significant meaning to it? Other than being a birthday present?”

Selina looked at him oddly for a moment, before shaking her head, “Not that I know of, why?”

Percy ignored the question, “Any idea where this particular piece was made?”

Selina’s wary look only increased, “I don’t know.” She said slowly, her eyes narrowing suspiciously, “But Grace usually went to Kleinman’s, near Morrison and Kane.” she handed the phone back to him, “What’s going on detective?” she demanded. For a moment, Dinah thought Percy was going to outright refuse to answer, his jaw was set tightly, and looked like he was thinking over his next few words very carefully,

“I’m not at liberty to tell you everything ma’am.” He said eventually, “Especially since we’re still putting the pieces together ourselves, but we think that what happened to Silver, was because of that little bracelet. No, I won’t say any more on the matter, but it’s important. Can I trust you not to be candid with that information?” He asked.

Dinah was thrown off by the admission, it seemed out of place. Granted, she could hardly say that she knew the man, but still, the detectives she knew weren’t exactly forthcoming with that kind of information. Maybe he just felt bad since Selina was close to the victims, or maybe he was looking to establish relationships like he had with Olsen and Lane back in Metropolis. Having someone like Selina Kyle in your corner would be undoubtably be an asset in a city like Gotham.

Percy was quiet again for a few moments, when he spoke again, his voice was low, and somber, “We know who was responsible for the murder. Got his name, picture, and we can put him with the victim the day of the attack. Only problem is, he’s little more than a hired thug. Bringing him in isn’t going to be the end. Whoever hired him, unless we can pin him down, is going to be free to keep doing this kind of shit for a long time. So,” Percy fished around in his pants pocket for a moment, before handing Selina a business card, “If you can think of anything else, that’s my personal number, and the one next to it connects to my desk at the precinct. Please give me a call, Miss Kyle.”

Selina nodded, tucking the card away into her clutch, neither moved for a few moments. Both just staring awkwardly at one another, “Do me a favor detective,” Selina finally said, “Find the bastard responsible for this. And when you do,” her eyes narrowed to little more than slits, “Let me get the first crack at him,”

“Miss Kyle,” Percy began, “You know I can’t-” he stopped abruptly, his back stiffening as he suddenly lurched forward, wrapping his enormous frame around Selina, “GET DOWN!” he roared,

Just as the wall beside them, exploded.

BREAK

Montoya pushed her way through the crowd, as she tried to make her way towards her target. What was she doing here? She’d never said anything about running in these kinds of circles before. Montoya wasn’t sure why she was reacting the way she was, or feeling the way she was. It wasn’t exactly as if she had been lied to, not like she had asked too deeply about her personal life. But still, it had been a shock to see her here, and Montoya wanted answers. Besides, she didn’t even want to have to come here tonight; sure, Metro was right about the lead. But that didn’t mean she had to like it, and that sure as hell didn’t mean she had to play tag along in the questioning. Metro was a big boy; he could handle it. Besides, if she was alone with Kyle for more than five minutes, Montoya was worried she’d deck the other woman.

She was nearly on top of her intended target, when she felt a cool hand on her shoulder. Turning around, her hand instinctually went to the sidearm she normally carried on her belt, only to remember that she and Metro had left their sidearms back at the precinct.

She really hated the new regulations sometimes.

She spun around, throwing the hand off of her shoulder as she did so, and faced the owner of the hand. Though, she positioned herself in such a way, that she could still maintain a slight visual in her peripheral on her intended target. The owner of the hand was a petite little redhead. Auburn curls brought up into a fashionable bun, with shocking green eyes, a smattering of freckles, and a neat little green dress, that matched with her hair and eyes in a fetching manner.

“Can I help you?” Montoya asked, her question coming off a tad ruder than she’d necessarily intended.

The woman, who was maybe about Percy’s age, wasn’t bothered by Montoya’s rudeness. “That man you were with when you came in, the tall one, with the green eyes and black hair. He wouldn’t happen to be Percy Jackson, would he?”

That put Montoya on her guard. Folks in Gotham didn’t just ask after people so casually, not unless they wanted something. Montoya was very much missing the comfort of her sidearm at the moment.

“Who’s asking?” she said slowly, knowing full well that it was as good of a confirmation of her partner’s identity.

The woman just tilted her head in amusement, before smiling, “Huh,” she grunted in surprise, her smile growing somewhat, “So he really is still alive.” Montoya wanted to comment, ask the woman what the hell she was talking about, but she never got the chance, “When he comes back, tell him to find me. Let him know that Rachel Elizabeth Dare would like to talk to him.” And with that, the strange woman turned on her heel, and strode away, back into the throngs of people.

Montoya stared after her for a moment, briefly wondering what the hell her partner had been involved with, before ignoring it for the time being. She had more pressing issues at the moment. Such as why the woman she’d been seeing for the past several months, had decided to leave out the fact that apparently, she wined and dined with Gotham elites.

She pushed through the last ring of bystanders, when Montoya locked eyes with her, the redheaded woman’s pale green eyes widened in surprise as they met Montoya’s. She was tall, just shy of six feet, athletically built, and she cut an intimidating figure in the small little black dress.

“Renee,” She said in surprise, drawing the attention of the socialites she was with, Montoya ignored them, leveling a look at her…partner she supposed.

“Kate,” Montoya said, trying to her level best to keep the ice out of her voice. She wasn’t sure why she was so upset by the woman’s presence. It wasn’t as though Kate had lied to her about anything. But it was more about the secrecy of it all. When they’d first gotten together, Kate had wanted to keep things simple, no names, no feelings, just comfort. Montoya had, naively, agreed.

They’d both been idiots. Those types of relationships never ended without one or both of them getting attached to the other. But they’d tried to maintain a reasonable distance in each other’s lives.

Hell, Montoya didn’t even know the woman’s last name yet she knew there was a beauty mark on the underside of her right thigh.

But things had changed in the last few weeks. Kate had been getting seemingly more attached, had been making an effort to have a semi-stable relationship. Something that, according to her, she’d never really had before. Which was why Montoya had been patient, because she did genuinely care for the woman, and she was giving it a shot. But that being said, Montoya still didn’t feel like she knew the woman. Hard to know someone when you don’t even know what their last goddamn name was. The woman had been…persistent in her quest to keep that from Montoya, and for the most part, she’d respected that. She was a detective with Major Crimes, if she’d really wanted to know who Kate was, it wouldn’t have taken much to figure it out.

Still, seeing her here, was a bit of a punch to the gut. A reminder that, in spite of their growing relationship, she still knew next to nothing about the woman.

Kate strode forward, away from the crowd of curious socialites, and grabbed Montoya by the arm, dragging her away. Montoya allowed herself to be taken by the arm, normally, she was the more dominant of the two, so she tended to let Kate run with it when she chose to. Kate guided her until they found a slightly more secluded spot, on the other side of the stage from where She’d seen Metro and Kyle disappear.

“What are you doing here?” Kate asked, looking more than a little panicked.

“What are you doing here?” Montoya shot back,

Kate glared at her, “Please don’t be childish about this Renee, what the hell are you doing here. I know for a fact that this isn’t your scene.”

“I thought that I could have said the same to you,” Montoya said snidely. To her credit, Kate did shift uncomfortably, but she regained her composure and just stared at her. Montoya bit back a sigh, and rolled her eyes. The woman could so damn stubborn. Reaching into her back pocket, Montoya withdrew her badge, flashing the shield and her identification, “I’m a cop, remember? I’m here with my partner running down a lead. Like you said, this isn’t exactly my first choice of after-hours fun.”

Kate flushed, and averted her eyes, shifting her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, “I-this, ugh,” she groaned, running a hand through her short, red hair, “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you,” she muttered,

“Tell me what?”

“I told you my parents were former military right?” she asked suddenly the change in topic nearly throwing Montoya off-balance,

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, dad’s journey to the army wasn’t exactly…traditional.” Kate began, “His family, my family, come from old money. Like, really, really old money. When he was eighteen, dad had a falling out with the rest of the family, ran off and joined the military where he met mom.”

“Ok, and what does that have to do with anything,”

Kate glared at her, “I’m getting to that. So shut up and let me finish,” she growled, before grumbling under her breath for a few seconds. “Screw it,” she finally said, “My name is Katherine Kane, my father is Jacob Kane, yes, as in those Kane’s. I’m here because Bruce, you know, Bruce Wayne, is my cousin.”

Montoya wasn’t someone who was stunned very often. She’d seen a lot of decidedly weird, and surprising things in her time with the GCPD. But, finding out that she’d been sleeping with, and semi-dating the heiress of one of the oldest and wealthiest families in Gotham? That was…not what she had been expecting.

“Oh,” she said simply. It certainly explained the woman’s reluctance to tell her who she really was. Why they always met in semi-secret, in places that were well out of the way. Away from the spotlight, the news hounds, and anybody willing to dig up dirt on the affluent family. Montoya hadn’t disagreed or even thought twice about the request. Things had been changing, true, and it was getting easier for people like her, however, being a woman in the GCPD could be hard enough. Being an open lesbian on top of that? Even with Jim Gordon as commissioner, it could be a monumental hurdle to overcome. One she hadn’t been particularly ready to try.

“Yeah, oh,” Kate said quietly,

Montoya crossed her arms and looked down at the floor. “Sorry,” she said softly after a few moments of awkward silence, “I don’t-I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, really,” Kate insisted, “It was bound to happen eventually…I just…” She trailed off, and Montoya was left with the overwhelming desire to try and comfort her, but she didn’t, not here. Not now,

“It doesn’t change anything-for me, that is.” She said, “I didn’t corner you to scare you…” she sighed, “I guess, I just wanted answers? I don’t know, I’m bad at all of,” she gestured between them vaguely, “This.”

“What, exactly is this?” Kate asked, looking uncomfortable,

“I don’t really know,” Montoya admitted, biting her lip, “I like you, Kate. Like, a lot, but-”

She was interrupted by a monumental explosion. The entire building shook at its foundations, as smoke sirens began to wail in the room, and smoke started pouring out from under the door of the room that Metro and Kyle had just gone through. Immediately, Montoya grabbed Kate by the arm and was leading her as fast as possible out of the building. Part of her, a very large part of her, was screaming that she needed to go back after Metro. See what was going on and more importantly, if he was ok. She’d just gotten him as a partner, and was only just beginning to think of him as friend. She did NOT want to lose another goddamn partner.

But her instincts were leading her at the moment, as they so often did in crisis situations. And her instincts were telling her that her priority was not the former Navy Seal, but the hundreds of compact civilians. More importantly, her priority was getting Kate to safety. Former military or not, she was not going to let the woman she was beginning to really like be put in unnecessary danger.

Her immediate plan was to get Kate out of the building, she had a loaded carbine in the trunk of her car. Standard issue fare for a city like Gotham, the only trouble would be making sure that she could fight through the mass of screaming socialites in order to get there. She assumed, based on the direction of the explosion, that whoever was there, was after the art, not the people. Meaning that she would hopefully, not have to worry about someone smashing through the front door, and taking hostages.

As she dragged Kate further away, she could only pray that Percy would be able to take care of himself long enough for her to get back to him.

BREAK

“Really?” she growled, looking up at the sky, “Couldn’t have warned me about that one?”, as always though, she received no such response. Par for the course really, in the magnanimous shit-show that was her life.

On the whole, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, didn’t have much to complain about. Ever since the final battle with she-who-shall-not-be-named, her life had turned around. She didn’t have to live at the camp these days, which meant she could have an actual life. Her career as an artist had even taken off in the last few years, which was why she had even been at that damn auction to begin with. A couple of her own personal pieces were part of the event, and she had wanted to be there to support them, and maybe network a little bit. She should have known better, should have listened to her when Annabeth tried to warn her about going to Gotham of all places. But no, she had to be miss independence.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Still, the event wasn’t a total wash. Assuming that she got out of the attack still breathing of course. She had seen Percy Jackson! Percy, freaking Jackson! As in, the guy that everyone had thought had been dead, as in the guy behind the final charge at Half-Blood hill. The hero of the final battle. The one who nearly sunk the camp into the sea when his entire battalion had been slaughtered.

It had taken her a few minutes, but she was sure that it had been him. She’d recognize eyes like that anywhere, plus, the familial resemblance to Helen was unmistakable. Of course there were some noticeable difference but she was certain that she was right!

Then the woman she’d talked to had confirmed it.

Percy Jackson was alive. And apparently a cop.

And he was hot. Holy shit, was he hot.

Thunder cracked overhead and she glared, “Oh, so my life is in peril and that doesn’t get a response, but I think a guy is attractive and you get all uppity? Stupid freaking…” she grumbled to herself, as she tried not to get trampled by the stampede of people, all pushing and shoving as they tried to get out of the cramped museum as fast as possible. There was another minor explosion, and a new set of screaming panic arose from the horde. Rachel, used to terrifying situations by that point in her life, pressed herself up against a far wall. Watching in muted interest as two dark shapes shot across the ceiling overhead, in the direction of the action.

“Huh, Batman and Robin.” she mused, “Neat,”

She wasn’t in much of a rush if she were honest, from the sounds of things, the fighting was being contained to one of the back rooms. Clearly, whoever was behind the attack, was after the collection of paintings in whatever store-room was being used. To her, that meant that whoever was responsible, wasn’t interested in dealing with the people at the auction, just the paintings. Which meant that there was really no need for her to rush, and potentially get trampled, in some crazed dash to one of the exits.

She watched in slight bemusement as the lady she had identified as Percy’s partner ran outside the building, leading a pretty redhead by the arm as she did so. That was interesting, she would have assumed her first worry would have been Percy, but then again, she hadn’t seen a gun on the woman. She thought she remembered reading somewhere about a new ordinance by the city, maintaining that off-duty cops weren’t allowed to carry their sidearms with them after hours. Maybe she was going to grab it from her car. She didn’t know, and honestly didn’t care.

The crowd was finally beginning to thin, so she pushed herself off the wall, and began a leisurely stroll down toward the exit, she would stick around for a while, maybe try and corner Percy when he was alone at some point, she had questions. Questions she wanted him to answer, if for nothing else, then to maybe satisfy Helena’s worry. Poor thing had been beside herself when Percy had disappeared. To go eighteen years without a direct blood-relative, only to find out that you had a pseudo half-brother out there, and then for him to disappear? The girl had been a mess. Thank the gods for Annabeth, otherwise it could have gotten ugly for the daughter of Poseidon.

However, all of those plans came to an abrupt halt, as the door to back rooms suddenly burst open, and Selina Kyle sprinted through the opening. Her dress was torn, and her face and hair covered in soot and debris. As soon as she was clear of the door, she dived to the side, taking cover behind the nearby wall, as a strange beam of light, shot through the space she had been occupying. The odd yellow beam smacked into the side of the stage, and the stage exploded in a cloud of splinters.

The bark of a pistol echoed through the previously quieting hall, reverberating off the walls of the large room. Rachel could distantly make out the sound of fighting, someone was screaming but Rachel couldn’t make out who it was, or what was being said.

There were a few more bursts of gunfire, before the large form of Percy came bounding out the same doorway Selina had emerged from. He dove to the opposite side as the art dealer, pressing himself up against the wall, as he reloaded a magazine. Guess Percy decided not to come in unarmed, Rachel though to herself,

His suit jacket had been lost at some point, leaving him in the now dirty, and soot-stained undershirt, and the shoulder-holster slung over his back. There were a few holes in the fabric, as there was a small cut forming on the side of his temple, that was already bleeding a fair amount. He chanced a look around the doorway, before popping off three more shots in rapid succession. There was a cry of surprise and pain from the other side of the doorway, as Percy’s shots found purchase in something.

Something in Rachel’s subconscious was telling her to run, to get out of there while she still could. That voice however, was being ignored, in favor of the utter curiosity that befell her. She’d only met Percy Jackson once, it had been a brief meeting, shortly before the final battle at the camp. He’d been nice enough, if a bit stern, but that was expected of someone like him. However, she’d never actually seen him fight. Never seen the truth behind the legend, and she wanted to see it with her own eyes, before it was too late.

But it was too late.

The wall behind Rachel suddenly and violently exploded outward, as a small form was blasted through the fine wood paneling. Between the shockwave of the blast, and the small body that collided with her, Rachel was tossed from her feet. She soared through the hair, all the wind having left her lungs, before landing harshly on the floor of the museum, in a painful pile.

She couldn’t breathe. Every time she tried to inhale a lungful of air, her body refused to inhale, her mouth just making small gasping sounds. The pressure on her stomach and ribs was becoming painful, and she wanted desperately to get up, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. Then, the decision was abruptly taken out of her hands, as a large, beefy fist, reached down, and plucked the small body off of her chest, before s second hand reached out, and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her onto her rear.

She still could barely breath, but the minute bits of oxygen that were making it through her heaving gasps were enough to keep her conscious. The hand tugged at her hair, as she felt a shiver of cold, as something metallic was pressed against her temple.

“This was a fucking disaster!” Said a feminine voice, coming from the person holding onto her hair, “First we walk right into a goddamn trap, then Ten gets fucking shot! We need to get out of here!” She wasn’t talking to her, Rachel realized, as she tried to look to her side to see who the woman holding her was talking to. She couldn’t see much, but she could make out some kind of mixture of gold, red, white, and black. It was a wild combination, and her head was starting to throb, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

“I know goddamnit!” Growled a masculine voice to the right of her. “And I saw that bat-brat tie up Jack!”

The grip on the back of her hair tightened, and she whimpered,

“Alright, listen up!” the woman holding her called out, “We’re going to walk out of here, and we’ll be taking our new friends here with us. Anyone tries anything,” There was a ‘BANG’ so loud, and so close, that her ears started ringing. The noise was so loud that it seemed to almost crawl up inside of her ear, run the gamut to her brain, and kick her squarely in the brain stem a few times. That was how much it hurt. Her eyes watered, and she was almost certain her eardrum had burst from the proximity of the shot. She shakily tried to lift her head up, to meet Percy’s gaze.

His eyes were shinning in anger, the sea-green orbs shimmering with power, the same way that Helen’s did when she got angry. If Rachel had not been exposed to the sensation before, she likely wouldn’t have been able to identify it, but being around Helen exposed her to what she was feeling. The air had suddenly grown muggy, and heavy. As though the room had suddenly been dropped in the middle of a bog. Rachel began to sweat. Whereas previously, the room had been cool; a thick, soup-like heat, now permeated the building. It was heavy, and the air sat on her bruised chest like a brick.

Yet, as much as the sensation was disquieting, it was also comforting. It was familiar. Rachel knew this feeling, this sensation. Had felt it before, had spent summers around it. She knew when a child of the sea was using their power, and at that moment, Percy was certainly doing that. She recognized something else however, Percy apparently had training in Mist magics. Granted, she didn’t have much exposure to the magic, given that she saw through it, but after spending enough time around the mythological world, she’d grown accustomed to the sensation associated with mist manipulation.

It felt similarly to when a demigod channeled a substantial amount of their own power. The world felt heavier, and there was an overwhelming sense of…something, that fell across a person’s chest. It was a strange sensation. Almost like the sensation one felt when they knew they’d forgotten something important, but couldn’t remember what.

She looked back at Percy, his eyes flashing, almost glowing with the force of the power he was wielding. She felt the form behind her stiffen, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw as everyone else in the room stiffened in place, and stopped what they were doing.

“Remove your weapon from the woman, get and step aside. Same for you with the crown. Step away from the boy, and stand aside.” Instantly, Rachel felt the barrel of the gun fall from her back, as the grip on her hair fell away. The second the woman’s fingers left her hair, she was turned, her fist cocked back. She swing and delivered the strongest punch she could to the nose of the woman who had been holding her.

“Don’t touch my godsdamned hair you bitch,” you spat out, and kicked the woman in the side for good measure. She then turned back towards Percy and ran over, putting the larger man between her and the people who had attacked her. She took a good look at the people who had tried to use her as a hostage then. They were both wearing what looked like modified biker-jackets. With a color scheme of red and black, with gold and white trim. On the breast of the man’s jacket, was a symbol of the king of hearts, like a playing card. The woman had a similar symbol, but hers was the queen. Both were wearing masks with the same playing card motif.

She then saw the full scale of what was happening. Not only were the two criminals under Percy’s spell, but so was everyone else in the room. To Percy’s left, were three costumed heroes, that Rachel recognized as Batman, Batgirl, and Black Canary. Over by the door, stood Selina, also enraptured by the spell. Standing a few feet from the enraptured playing cards, was a young boy, that she recognized as Robin.

“Damn,” She couldn’t help the whisper of awe that escaped her. She’d heard of some demigods that had strong power over the mist, but she’d never seen someone do what Percy was doing. Not to that effect at any rate.

“Batman, Canary,” Percy called out. “You’re going to go over there, and cuff those two. Robin, elbow the man in the stomach. When you did that, this woman over here managed to subdue the other long enough for Canary and Batman to act. You tackled them to the ground, and arrested them both while I had their line of sight with my weapon drawn. Now move.”

Instantly, the group did as they were bade, robin turned around and promptly sunk his elbow deep into the midsection of the man who’d held him hostage. A few seconds later the two criminals were cuffed and prone on the ground. Percy snapped his fingers, and the room blinked as one. Not even aware that their memories and actions had all been manipulated by the power of the gods.

Percy let out a breath of relief, as he turned away from the criminals, and addressed her. She almost froze, he had an intense look in his eyes, and the sea-green orbs were still shining in power. It was a look she had seen in Jason from time to time. The aura of someone who commanded, who led.

“Are you alright ma’am?” he asked softly, looking at her so intently that she her knees shook a little. She didn’t trust her voice at the moment, so she just nodded. Percy seemed to understand, so he gave her a reassuring smile. Or at least, that’s what she thought it was supposed to be. It really looked more like a grimace. “We’ll talk more once all of this is settled down,” he whispered down to her, and she nodded, noticing as she did so, that Batman had finished talking to Robin about something, and was stalking over to them.

Percy followed her gaze and turned, looking at the large armored vigilante evenly.

The man’s eye’s narrowed behind the large cowl, “Detective Jackson,” the Dark Knight said, his voice coming out in a gruff growl.

“We need to talk.”

Notes:

Alright, gonna be honest, this has felt weird writing, given the current state of things here in the State’s. Regardless, I love this story, and I love these characters, so I’m going to continue writing. Thanks for all the love this weird little story has gotten, I’m glad so many of you seem to be enjoying it. I took some creative liberties with the Mist, because fuck it right? My story, my rules. It’s a little different to the normal way that Percy fights, but given the way my Percy operates, it felt fitting to me. Either way, so far only one person has correctly guessed who this Percy really is. I think I’ve layed it out pretty clearly in this chapter, but let me know what you think! If you like this story, please check out some of my other works, I think you’ll enjoy them! As always, thanks for all the love and support. Stay safe, and love you all!
Love,

LilDB

Chapter 9: Matters of Family

Percy bit back a groan, the absolute last thing he wanted to do was have a conversation with the Bat. But he also had dealt enough with capes, to know better than to try and avoid a conversation. So instead of telling the Bat where Percy thought he could shove his utility belt, he just told the strange redhead to give her statement to his partner, who Percy had seen rush back into the building, a rifle tucked in her arms, but had relaxed at seeing Percy’s dismissive wave.

After the girl left, Percy turned to look at the Bat,

“What do you want?” He asked gruffly. If the man was at all turned away by the tone of Percy’s voice, he didn’t show it, instead he stepped in close,

“I don’t trust you,”

Percy snorted, “That makes two of us pal,”

The Bat didn’t budge, “What are you doing here?”

“My fucking job, what’re you doing?” Percy shot back

The Bat didn’t respond, just continued to glare at Percy, who was in no mood to deal with whatever the Bat was trying to pull. All of Percy’s patience and goodwill for the day had evaporated when those clowns had ambushed him and Selina.

Wait…

He turned, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t seen Selina since they’d charged out of the kill-box.

She was gone.

“Son of a bitch,” he swore quietly under his breath,

“What did you want with Selina Kyle?” the man demanded, but Percy ignored him again. He wasn’t going to put up with the third-degree from some lunatic dressed like a bat. Instead, he just turned away, and began walking back to the hall he had shot the guy with Ten of Clubs mask.

If nothing else, then the potential isolation would also allow him to screw around with the Bat’s brain using the mist again.

He also was really hoping he hadn’t killed the man in the Ten of Clubs mask; he didn’t know how things worked in Gotham, but following a deadly shoot, was always a lengthy investigation, that usually required Percy be taken off of any active cases while the Internal Affairs Bureau investigated what had happened. They were already running on thin ice with the investigation as it was, and Percy didn’t want to lose out on the new potential lead he had just come across.

He also counted himself lucky, that he always carried with him a registered off-duty weapon. Something he had taken to doing at Roger’s insistence when he was still a rookie.

He strode into the empty hall, the billowing of a fabric behind him, telling Percy that the Bat was following him into the hallway.

Stepping into the hall, it didn’t take Percy long to find his man. He was tied up on the ground, next to the unconscious form of a man in a Jack of Hearts mask. There was no sign of blood on the ground, which was good. Percy reached down, and checked for a pulse. It was there, firm and strong, then he checked where he had shot the man, two clean holes in the jacket he had been wearing. Fingering the holes, he felt the firm shell of a ballistics vest, and Percy unconsciously let out a sigh of relief.

He hadn’t killed the man, clearly, he’d just been stunned enough by the impact of the shells, that one of the capes had been able to take advantage and knock him unconscious, before tying him up. There would likely be a brief investigation, but Percy somehow doubted he’d be too tied up by things. The Royal Flush Gang was rather infamous after all.

There was a hand on his shoulder and Percy spun, making a conscious effort not to deck the owner of the hand. The Bat was still staring him down, and Percy just growled,

“Get the fuck out of my face,” Percy growled,

“Not before you explain why there’s a demigod running loose in my city,” the man growled back.

Percy’s blood froze. His eyes widening, as a crack of thunder cracked loudly overhead. Percy took an abrupt step back, unconsciously channeling his power as he prepared for a fight, and his thoughts raced.

How the hell had the Bat found out about that, the number of people who knew what he was, and where he was could be counted on one hand. And Wonder Woman could not be counted on that list.

Percy also mentally berated himself, he knew the Bat’s reputation as ‘World’s Greatest Detective’, he knew that the man wouldn’t miss the way that sentence would have affected Percy. There was no point in trying to deny the accusation, the only option left was damage control.

“Who the hell told you that?” he snarled,

“I have my sources,” the man shot back, and that only served to put Percy more on edge, “Now answer me, what are you doing in Gotham,”

“I already told you,” Percy spat, “My job. What? You think I came here to start shit?” Percy scoffed, “Don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that important. I’m just trying to live my life. What, that a crime these days?”

“It is if you’re a natural danger to those around you,” The Bat riposted,

Percy made an indignant noise, “Please, the only person here who’s a danger to this city is you. How many lunatics come to Gotham just for the opportunity to take a shot at you? Besides, let’s not act like you haven’t done your research, if you know what I am, then that means you’ve done some digging, I’m fucking clean. Spotless goddamn record Bat, ask the boy scout if you’re so uncertain.”

He was getting mad. Who was this bastard to come at him, and start throwing around accusations, and posture? Percy had worked his ass off to get where he was, had sacrificed everything for a chance at normality.

He briefly contemplated wiping the bastard’s memory, using the mist to alter his understanding of things. But he didn’t want to risk it. Even if Percy was successful in wiping his memory of what he knew of Percy, it didn’t change the fact that he had found out from someone, what Percy was. Without knowing the original source of the information, he couldn’t take care of the entirety of the problem, and if that someone found out what Percy had done to the Bat, and reversed it, he would find himself in a lot more trouble.

Illegal vigilante or not, it didn’t change the fact that capes had power. They had influence. The Bat’s relationship with the commissioner was proof enough of that. But that also didn’t mean Percy was going to let himself get kowtowed or bullied by some punk in a costume.

Batman glared, his default setting apparently, “I’ll be watching you closely. If you slip up, I will be there to take you down hard,”

That was where Percy drew the line. This guy thought he could throw down with him? Percy was not an overly arrogant man, but he knew his strengths, he knew where he ranked in the pecking order. And some guy in fancy armor, with some special gadgets was still not on his level.

“You can try,” Percy spat, not backing down from the glare. They stayed like that for some time, just glaring at one another, and neither willing to back down or give an inch.

Finally, the bat changed topics, “Where are you on the St. Cloud investigation?” he demanded,

Percy stared at the man in utter incredulity, unable to comprehend the arrogance of someone to simply assume, that Percy would bring him in on the investigation, “Blow it out your ass, how about that?” Percy said,

If the man was annoyed by the rude and rather petulant comment, he didn’t show it.

“You’re not going to get anywhere on that encryption without help,” The man added, and Percy shouldn’t have been surprised that he already knew about that. Percy didn’t put it past the Bat to have some kind of virus or whatever the hell in the GCPD database, that kept him appraised of all new evidence and discoveries.

“Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” Percy shot back Deciding that he was done with the conversation he pushed past the man, and back into the waiting gallery. A pair of uniformed patrolies were walking into the hall as Percy left, as they made to wrangle up the two unconscious members of the gang still in the hall.

While Percy and Batman had been away, the hall had been taken over by the GCPD, crime techs, SWAT teams, detectives, and regular patrol officers were mingling about, taking care of whatever individual tasks had been assigned to them.

Percy strode hotly through the mess, of cops, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder,

Percy spun, ready to actually deck the Bat if it was him again, but his tense posture stooped, when he saw that it was actually his boss,

Percy immediately straightened, years of military training taking over in the presence of a superior.

“Sir,” Percy said,

Gordon quirked a brow at him, his pipe tucked into the corner of his mouth, “I take it you finally met him?” The Commissioner asked, in leu of a proper greeting,

“Permission to speak freely sir?” Percy asked, feeling exhausted all of a sudden,

Gordon rolled his eyes, “You ain’t in the teams anymore son, speak your mind,”

“How the hell do you put up with that asshole?” Percy asked,

Gordon chuckled, taking his pipe out of his mouth to stamp the tobacco together more firmly, “Been asking myself the same question for years, I take it he wanted in on the St. Cloud investigation?”

Percy nodded,

“What’d you tell him?” Gordon asked,

“That he could take his request and blow it out his ass, sir,”

There was a pause, where Gordon just stared at Percy for a minute, and then the man laughed. A deep, rough, and full-bellied laugh. Loud and large enough to actually draw attention from some of the other cops in the vicinity.

It took a few moments, but Gordon was finally able to compose himself.

“Oh, good lord,” He said, pulling his glasses away from his face to wipe a tear from his eye, “Oh son, thank you, I needed that.”

“Erm,” Percy was uncertain how to respond, “You’re welcome, sir?”

Gordon pulled himself a bit more together, “Ten years I’ve been working with that man, and not once have I met someone besides Bullock with the balls to say that to his face.”

Percy rubbed sheepishly behind one ear, “Gonna be honest sir, I was expecting you to be a bit more…I don’t know,”

“Pissed?” Gordon supplied, reaching into his coat pocket and procuring a new handful of tobacco, with practiced ease, he scooped up a pinch of the plant, and deposited into his pipe. With the flick of his wrist, he lit a match Percy hadn’t even seen him draw, and lit the new round.

“Son, I have been working with that man for a long time. And I won’t lie, he’s done good things for this city, has stopped a lot of bad shit that our department would not be equipped or ready to handle. That being said, the man is an asshole, and more than a bit of a bully, don’t think I’m not aware that he’s hacked into our database. Stolen evidence from lockup, and who knows what else. I might support the son of a bitch, but it’s out of professional courtesy to see Gotham cleaned up as much as possible.”

Percy nodded, feeling a bit stunned. He’d heard rumors of the relationship between the Gotham police commissioner and the Bat, but Percy had always assumed things in Gotham worked like how they had in Metropolis. He was more than relieved to see that Gordon had a real head on his shoulders.

“Can I assume,” Gordon said, grabbing Percy’s attention, “That your case is what brought you into this mess tonight?”

Percy nodded, remembering the newfound information he’d come into,

“Yes sir, one of my contacts put me onto a lead here at the auction tonight. We’ve had several big cracks today but uh…” Percy took a quick glance around the room, and Gordon seemed to get the idea.

The man nodded, looking towards the other side of the room, where Montoya was giving a statement to some members of the IAB,

“Montoya,” He called out, grabbing the woman’s attention, he gestured her over, and the woman was relieved from the Internal Affairs officers, before lightly jogging over,

“What’s up Jim?” she asked, and Percy arched a brow at the casual address of the police commissioner. Gordon gestured with his head for the two to follow him, before he turned on his heel. Taking the cue, Percy and Montoya followed Gordon out of the room.

They took a turn out a seemingly random door, as Gordon led the two detectives into an innocuous room away from the gathering of cops. It was one of the many empty office rooms in the museum. Gordon perched himself against a desk at the far end of the room, as Montoya closed the door behind her.

Percy took the silent cue to begin, “Alright,” Percy began, “First things first, we’ve identified the shooter,” Percy reached into his pocket, and withdrew his phone, pulling out a picture of their bad guy, he passed the device over to Gordon, “Name’s Alberto Romanji, he’s a known gun-for-hire. Connected to at least five shoots all over the country.”

“Gets worse though,” Montoya chimed in, “Romanji’s got connections to the Falcone’s,”

Gordon swore under his breathe, handing the phone back to Percy, “Please tell me you have nothing linking the two to this mess,”

Percy nodded his head, and Montoya shot him a look, he’d forgotten that he hadn’t had a chance to brief her on what he’d found.

“It’s loose sir, but I might have a connection, just a matter of how much you want to yank on the thread,” Percy said, giving the man an out if he wanted it. It wasn’t that Percy didn’t want Christian Falcone to face justice if he did in fact order a hit on Silver, but Percy understood the difficulty of prosecuting a mafia family. Even if they found solid proof that connected Falcone to the buy, nothing short of the man confessing to the crime audibly, would get a conviction. Mafia families were powerful, especially so for the son of a boss. Percy had experienced it first hand in New York. He’d grown up in a rough part of town, one that was owned by the Irish. The first thing they did as a family, was buy off the district judges, Percy couldn’t remember a single member of the mob being convicted in his time in the Big Apple.

Gordon looked conflicted for a moment, before he sighed loudly, and took a large pull from his pipe, gesturing for Percy to go on.

“You were right earlier; I came here on a lead from an old friend. Apparently, Selina Kyle is a friend of the St. Cloud’s,” Gordon groaned, and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, Percy paused but the man just waved Percy to continue.

“Well, before the attack here, she told me that Christian Falcone had been persistently threatening the St. Cloud’s. Selina didn’t know what he was threatening them with, or why, but she knew that whatever was going on was rattling Falcone. I have a feeling that it has something to do with this.”

Percy scrolled on his phone, pulling up the photo of the bracelet.

“We found that bracelet in the alley where Silver was shot. According to forensics, that jewel isn’t an ordinary jewel, but some kind of crypto-lock or something. I get the impression that whatever is hiding behind that encryption, is why Falcone was threatening the St. Clouds,”

Gordon nodded, taking a long look at the photo, “Any luck in cracking the encryption?”

Percy shook his head, “No sir, Dr. Parker says that we don’t have the tech available to crack whatever is on it. He says there are only a handful of people in the entire country capable of cracking it, and most are already working for the Feds,”

Gordon snorted, “Figures,” he grumbled,

Percy paused, considering for a moment whether he wanted to let his superior know what the vigilante had said. On the one hand, if they were serious about going after Falcone, then it was likely that only the Bat would have the necessary tech capable of breaking through the encryption. On the other hand, Percy’s pride refused to bring in a cape into their investigation. It wasn’t so much that Percy had too big of an ego to ask for help, between his time in his world, and his time in the teams, he had long learned that there was no harm in asking for help. Rather, Percy did not like having to rely on capes, to do his job. It set a bad precedent, made it harder for him to do his job, and gave more power to capes, who already, in Percy’s opinion, had enough power.

“How serious are you about going after Falcone?” Percy asked, and Gordon looked up at him, his eyes narrowing slightly,

“If you got something that might be able to put the bastard away, or something we can use later in a grand indictment, you’d best share it son,” Gordon said sternly, and Percy sighed,

“The Bat,” Percy said simply, “It shouldn’t be a surprise that he knows about the bracelet. When he cornered me, it was talk about it, all but told me we’d need to hand it over in order for it to be broken in.” Percy said,

“It’s a good call,” Montoya said quickly, and Percy flinched slightly, he had known she would be on board with the plan, but it still stung, “If there’s anyone who can break through into whatever’s behind that, it’s him,

Gordon let out a slow breath, and arched a brow, “Sounds like you don’t want to do that though,” he said to Percy,

Percy eyed his partner, she didn’t look too pleased by his hesitance to answer, but Percy tore his eyes away from her. “I…I don’t know sir. I have problems, ethical problems, with turning over evidence to a vigilante. I also don’t like the idea of him high-jacking our investigation,”

Montoya rolled her eyes, “Metro,” she said disparagingly, “If this is about the Bat stealing your glory-”

“It has nothing to do with glory!” Percy shot back hotly, “But it has everything to do with the kind of message it sends to people, when we have to rely on capes to do our jobs for us!”

“Do our-are you kidding me? He’s making our job easier! What are you talking about?”

“All right enough!” Gordon cut across, “We have a hitman on the run, and a dead fourteen-year-old girl, I won’t have my two detectives wasting time arguing like children.” The commissioner said, sounding more like a scolding father than a commanding officer, “Jackson,” he barked, “I’m giving you until you collar Romanji. If you can’t either figure out a way into that bracelet on your own, or find me something equally concrete on Falcone, we’re turning it over to Batman for separate analysis. Understood?”

Percy ground his teeth together, but nodded,

Gordon nodded, “I’ll get to work on getting a warrant out for Romanji, if we have any luck, we’ll have him by breakfast tomorrow morning. Have a good night detectives,”

With that, the commissioner of the GCPD strode out of the room. Nothing was said between the two detectives for a few tense moments. The air heavy with tension. It was their first major disagreement as a team, and neither was really sure how to deal with it. Montoya pushed herself off the wall she’d been leaning against, and moved to leave the door, brushing by him as she did so.

“I’m-I’m glad to see you made it out in one piece tonight,” she said,

Percy nodded, squeezing her arm gently, “Me too Monty, I’ll see you in the morning,” she nodded and with that, she strode out of the room. Percy was relieved, that simply because they disagreed on the Bat, and on capes, it didn’t seem like it would be completely deconstruct of their partnership.

But what the hell did he do now?

Percy sighed, clenching his phone tight in his hand, and gently banged his head against the rear wall.

BREAK

Percy had been right in his earlier assessment. Things in Gotham were done very differently. When ‘Super Criminals’-criminals who usually possessed superior abilities or technologies so regular law enforcement had difficulties-were involved, it was almost always considered a good shoot. He only had to speak to the IAB agents for five minutes before he was walking out of the station. With standing orders not to leave the city for the next week as the investigation was concluded.

Percy wasn’t worried, so long as he wasn’t relieved of duty, he was happy.

He was lost in thoughts of what he should do about the bracelet. So much so, that he didn’t notice when a dainty hand pulled on the cuff of his shirt.

Startled, he turned to look at the offender, and almost sighed when he recognized the redheaded woman from before. The one who was either a demigod, or a clear-sighted mortal.

“Hey there,” He said, his voice coming out weary as he ran a tired hand through his hair, “Sorry, was kind of out of it,”

She giggled, her red locks bouncing with her, “I could tell, you’re kind of spacey.” Percy didn’t know how to respond to that, and she clearly didn’t know how to proceed. Deciding to take the lead, Percy jerked his head,

“C’mon, I know a place where we won’t be overheard.” She nodded, and followed his lead. He led her away from the groups of onlookers, using the mist to make the pair of them look as nondescript as possible,

“How do you do that?” The woman asked,

“Do what?” Percy asked, before adding, “Also, what’s your name again? Sorry, I feel like I know you but I can’t place you,”

She waved off his concern, “Don’t worry about it, we only met once and you were a little preoccupied with the whole, you know, invading army of monsters. I’m Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Pleased to meet you again, Percy Jackson,”

Percy stopped, turning to look at the woman wide eyed. He knew that name, he remembered why she had looked so familiar, he swore under breath, “By the stone, you’re the damned Oracle,” He breathed out.

“Guilty,” She admitted, with a tilt of her head, “But you never answered my question. I’ve never seen someone manipulate the mist like you can, how do you do that?”

Percy, his head still spinning as he realized he was with one of the most valuable persons in their world, found it difficult to answer,

“Oh, uh, learned it from some daughters of Hekate. They specialize in mist magic, and I had a…sabbatical after the first war. Seemed smart to know how to protect and hide myself from…curious mortals.” He turned, leading her into an unassuming alleyway,

“Oh, that makes sense I guess. Wait, what were you doing on sabbatical? I thought you guys, like, never took a break?”

“Didn’t really have a choice in the matter,” Percy murmured, taking a quick scan to ensure the alley was abandoned, before grabbing Rachel from around the elbow, “Hold still, this is going to feel weird,” Then, with a burst of will, the pair disappeared, reappearing in his apartment, on the other end of town.

“Woah,” Rachel said, stumbling slightly, so Percy had to reach out and steady her. “That was…different,”

“Vapor travel,” Percy supplied, “You get used to it after a while,”

“Don’t think I want to,” Rachel grumbled, as she turned to survey their new accommodations.

Spartan. That was the best way to describe the apartment. Plain walls, no decorations, and minimal furniture. It was a cold, and depressingly empty space,

“Don’t believe much in homemaking, do you, big guy?” She joked, as she sunk into a nearby chair at the small dinner table by the kitchen.

“Got everything I need,” Percy said simply, as he rummaged through a cabinet, “I need a drink, anything I can make for you?” he asked,

“Something strong please, I want to forget tonight,” Percy chuckled, and pulled a pair of glasses, and a bottle of rum from a cabinet. He poured each glass about two fingers worth, before handing a glass to Rachel.

“Would have thought, after spending so much time around Greeks, you would be accustomed to a little barbarity,”

She gave him a dry look,

“Cute,”

Percy smirked over the rim of his glass, before adopting a more serious expression, “So, what can I do for you Rachel, you made it sound important,”

Rachel took a pull from her glass, her face pinching slightly at the strong liquor. Shaking her head, she managed to respond, “Compared to what happened in there, I guess it’s not that important.” She said shyly,

Percy took a sip from his own glass, reveling in the slight burn of the rum as it washed down his throat, “If it has you of all people interested, it has my attention,”

Rachel shifted in her seat, her cheeks darkening slightly, whether from the comment or the rum, Percy didn’t know.

“I guess, I don’t really know the reason I wanted to talk to you. Mostly just cause you’re-you’re kind of a mystery, you know that?” When he didn’t respond, she continued, “I mean, you almost single handily hold back…her, army, and then you just disappear off the face of the earth. I guess, what I’m trying to say is I’m just curious as to what happened. Both for me, but also, well, Helen’s a good friend. And she’s never really been the same since you disappeared.”

Percy visibly winced at the mention of his sister. Their first meeting had not gone well. What with him returning from his year long quest, or banishment depending on the person you asked, only to find that she had been appointed praetor in Jason’s absence over him.

Percy was not an egotistical man by nature, but he was proud. He had fought hard, to rise through the ranks, had fought tooth and nail. Battled through the prejudice, the sabotage, and the isolation, to prove that a son of Neptune was not the omen of ill-will that his kinsmen thought.

He had not expected praetorship after the first war. He knew his place in the rankings, and his father above, Percy knew Jason and...and Reyna deserved the positions. But to find out, that his half-sister, who was not even of Roman blood, had ascended in Jason’s place, above him.

Anger could not do justice, to the true scope of his feelings.

It had been a stab in the back for everything he had worked so hard for. Fought so hard for.

An outsider, a daughter of his father’s Greek half. He had been incensed.

Helen, bless her heart, had understood his feelings. Had understood his anger. She was a little pixie that one. And before long, she had managed to worm her way into his life and heart. All in a matter of days. He cared for his sister, truly he did. She was the only living, semi-mortal family he had left, but he didn’t know her. Not really, which was why he hadn’t felt too bad for when he’d done what he had.

Still…

“How’s she doing?” he asked, his voice soft as he finished off his glass, and poured himself another,

“Well,” Rachel said, her voice equally soft, with a happy lilt to it, “She and Annabeth are expecting their first. They’re using a donor,” she supplied, at seeing Percy’s confused look, “Annabeth nearly had a heart attack when Helen said she wanted to name him Percy,”

He choked on his drink, “W-what?” he asked, befuddled. They were family, and he cared for the woman, but to want to name her child after him? That was…

“I’m screwing with you,” Rachel said, laughing at the expression on his face, and only laughing harder when it morphed into a scowl.

“But I wasn’t earlier,” Rachel continued, getting more subdued after she’d calmed down. “She was devastated after you disappeared, spent weeks trying to find you, before Annabeth finally talked her down.”

“Annabeth, she’s the blonde one, right? The one that hates me?” Percy asked, no longer scowling as he swirled his drink in his glass,

“She doesn’t-”

Percy cut her off with a look, and Rachel deflated slightly,

“Ok,” She admitted, “She definitely hates you,”

Percy snorted, and took another sip,

“But yeah, she managed to convince Helen that if you didn’t want to be found, you wouldn’t be. Eventually, everyone just gave up, assumed you were dead or something,”

Percy refilled her glass as she tapped a finger against her chin in thought, “Though, now that I think about it, Jason wasn’t nearly as broken up about things as I’d expected him to be, I mean you two were pretty close, right?”

Percy averted his eyes, which was answer enough, “Holy shit,” Rachel breathed out, “He knew, didn’t he? He knew and didn’t say anything!”

“Because I asked him not to!” Percy jumped in, quick to defend the honor of the first real friend he’d ever had. He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, he knew it was asking too much to hope that this would have stayed buried forever, but there were worse things he supposed,

“Then what happened?” Rachel demanded,

“Ok,” He said after a minute, “Ok, you want to know what happened?” Rachel nodded enthusiastically,

Percy let out a slow breath, as he thought on the events that had haunted his dreams for years, “I’m sure you remember the final battle, remember-remember how bad it got?”

Rachel nodded,

“Well after…after what happened, happened. I wasn’t-I was in a really bad place, ok? An entire cohort…just…and it was all my-”

He gripped the counter top, as he tried to maintain his breathing, flashes of the battle, the bodies, the screaming, flashing through his memory. He had been so successful in ignoring the event, in leaving the past buried, that the wounds felt as fresh as they ever had.

“It was bad, let’s just say that,” He finally managed to say, after he was able to compose himself a little, “When the dust settled, and the battle was over, I was summoned to Olympus with the seven the, um, the hunter, what the hell was her name? Shit, I should remember her, she was Jason’s damn sister”

“Thalia,” Rachel supplied helpfully,

“Right,” Percy said, with a snap of his fingers, “Thalia and-and the other…Reyna was there too. Anyways, the god’s the offered us godhood, for what we did during the war. We all refused, none of us wanted to be gods, so Jupiter offered us something else, a boon. I can’t remember what the other’s got, but when it came to me…I wanted to make my request in private. So, Lord Jupiter ordered the others out of the room.”

Percy’s hand clenched tight around his glass, memories of the day swimming in his vision, “What was Helen’s life at camp like?” He asked, seemingly out of the blue, which startled Rachel, but she answered regardless,

“As good as anybody’s I guess,” she said slowly, “She was the camp’s leader for years. Everything went through her. Not quite the systemic hierarchy of you guys, but she was in charge, well liked, respected.”

Percy nodded slowly as she talked, having expected the answers, “Yeah, that’s what I figured,” Percy downed the rest of his rum, contemplated pouring more, but pushed it away, “It was the opposite for me. Children of Neptune, they’re not well liked in Roman society, we’re seen as bad omens. Our power is tied to our emotion, and when we get emotional…the earth tends to shake.”

He took a shaky breath, “I spent my entire childhood, trying to prove myself different. Trying to prove I was someone who could be relied on, could be trusted. Then…what happened, happened. I was done, I was tired, and I just couldn’t be there anymore.”

What he left out was the feeling of utter betrayal he’d felt from his countrymen, when his half-sister had been raised. He hadn’t wanted the position. Had made it clear in the Senate, that the seat should remain vacant, in honor of Jason, until he was found.

Like with all things, he’d been ignored.

He might have been able to deal with it. Might have been able to pass over yet another spit in the face. If only it hadn’t been for her. And he didn’t blame Helen. She hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t wanted the responsibility, and had given up the position the second she was able to. No, Percy’s problem lay with the ones he’d given everything to protect. The one’s who’d been so ungrateful, so hateful, and so prejudiced.

In the end, he’d simply gotten too tired to be a soldier of Rome any longer.

“…So I took the cowards way out. When it came to my request, I requested an out. I wanted out of the life. To be left alone, to be free to live my life. So they took my scent from me.” He continued,

“Oh my god…” Rachel breathed, “They can do that?”

Percy shook his head, “Not normally, breaks a lot of rules, but…in those circumstances, an exception was made. They removed my scent, and I left. I wrote Jason, as far as I know, he’s the only one aware of what I did. Where I went. I wrote him a letter of resignation, telling him my plans, what I had done. I couldn’t do it in person, I was too much of a coward to face him, to see his shame, and disappointment. But I let him know my plans, where I would be, and that I would be in contact with him eventually. After that…” Percy shrugged,

“I travelled for a bit, wanted to see some more of the planet I’d fought so hard to protect, but…I got restless. Battle is in my blood, it’s why I exist, I was wandering downtown Detroit when I got stopped by a recruiter, next thing I know, I’m on a bus to Coronado. I was in the teams for a few years, had an op go south and got honorably discharged, and then used my government grant to go to school. Got my degree in criminal justice, became a cop, moved to Metropolis, became a detective, and moved here a few days ago.”

It felt, weird, talking about it like he had. It wasn’t exactly a secret, more, his past was just that, his past. Percy wanted to be his own person, not tied down by the baggage of the world he’d left behind. He still kept in occasional contact with his friends from before, they’d been surprisingly understanding, but they’d grown apart. And talking about it all, with a woman he hardly knew, it was easier than he’d expected. Percy had always found it easier to speak with someone he didn’t know, he felt less like he was being judged for it, because they had no baseline for who he was.

And moreover, it felt strangely cathartic to speak to Rachel about his past. Like he was finally putting to bed some of the demons in his closet. As though saying the words was the final nail in the coffin of moving past his personal history. At least, he hoped it was.

“Wow,” Rachel finally said, “That’s…that’s a lot to process.”

Percy nodded, he understood,

“So now, what, you’re just a cop?”

“I’m just a cop,” Percy confirmed, “Working cases, busting bad guys, and getting shot at. Life hasn’t changed that much for me if I’m honest, just the monsters I hunt these days, have less pointy teeth,” He emphasized his point by tapping at his teeth in an exaggerated manner, Rachel laughed, then grew subdued again,

“You should really call your sister. She’d want to know you’re still alive,”

Percy wasn’t so sure, “I don’t want to butt into her life, Rachel. She’s come a long way since I entered her life, and I wasn’t even in it for all that long.”

“You really don’t know her that well, do you?” Rachel chided,

“Pretty sure that’s I what I said,”

Rachel rolled her eyes, “Don’t be an ass, because I do know her well. Helen, she didn’t have a great childhood, even by half-blood standards. Finding out she had a brother? It meant the world to her. She was devastated by your disappearance. She deserves to know,”

“You say that like you’re not going to immediately tell her regardless of what I do,”

She smirked, “Glad to see that detective rank isn’t just being handed out, you’re right, I am. But that doesn’t mean that I’m wrong,” She stood up, gathering her things, “Thanks for the drink Percy, and-and thanks for telling me, I know you didn’t need to, but I appreciate it.”

“Not sure why I did it myself,” Percy admitted, “But, it feels…good to actually talk about it for once. You’re welcome Rachel, and for the record, I’ll think about talking to Helena.”

“Good boy,” Rachel said with a smile, and made to leave the apartment, only to stop and turn around, a confused look on her face,

“Um Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“How do I get to the third street from here?”

“Oh, right, shit hang on,”

BREAK

Dinah pushed the door open to Ted’s gym. She needed to decompress after the mess at the museum. It was a habit she’d gotten into years ago. When an operation went pear-shaped, she needed to have some way to vent her frustrations.

And she had a lot to vent at the moment.

The fighting had gone from bad to worse. She should have listened to her instincts when they told her to evacuate Percy and Selina from the vault. They’d been caught right in the middle of the fighting. Though she had been impressed with the way that Percy had been able to handle himself. Knowing what he was, it shouldn’t have been a surprise, but still, seeing the way he took charge of the situation immediately was impressive. He had been calm, resolved, and reacted without hesitation.

That being said, it had been sheer dumb luck that no one had gotten hurt. She didn’t know what Batman had been thinking. It was impossible, even for him, to think through all of the possible scenarios a battle could go, and plan accordingly. What was it he had said to the kids following Santa Prisca? No strategy survives first contact with the enemy? Bastard should have listened to his own advice. Not only had civilians gotten caught in the crossfire, but one of them had even gotten taken hostage!

She still couldn’t remember clearly what had happened. She remembered Robin making some kind of a move on the one holding him, and she and Batman had knocked out the two Flush members, but it was hazy. Like she had been drinking and had been fading in and out of consciousness.

She needed to punch something, and she was thankful that Ted had been willing to keep the gym open after hours.

The lights were still on, and she was mildly surprised to hear the sound of a bag already being worked. She supposed it was Ted putting in some after-hours work. Can take the fighter out of the ring, but you can’t take the fight out of the fighter.

However, as she rounded the corner, she was even more surprised to see that it wasn’t Ted punching the heavy bag, but was Percy. His back was to her, and he was punching the bag with the ferocity of a man with as much pent up frustration and anger as she herself was feeling. She sat back for a bit, simply content to watch the man work. He had a fluidity to his strokes, a calm assurance that was only present in the most experienced of fighters. Each blow, carefully directed, and containing power, and precision.

His back, thinly covered by a compression tee, flexed as punched. Taut and firm muscles tensing and relaxing, as they unleashed powerful blow after blow.

Her face flushed slightly, when she realized that she had been staring, and decided it was time to make her presence known.

She coughed, and had to hold back a chuckle as the man nearly jumped a foot in the air. He must have been pretty deep in his own headspace; she hadn’t exactly been quiet in her approach. He turned, those bright green eyes shining, and his face covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Sorry,” she said, not quite able to stifle her chuckles, “Didn’t mean to startle you,”

Percy relaxed, and Dinah was thankful that she had remembered to put her wig on before heading out of the house. It seemed silly, wearing her wig out when she knew she was likely going to be alone in the gym, but she’d had enough experiences out of costume, to necessitate the minor inconvenience of the itchy wig.

“Sorry, didn’t notice you come in,” he said, his cheeks darkening slightly as he awkwardly scratched behind his ear. “Was kind of,” he gestured vaguely in the air, “Out of it,” he finished lamely.

“I can tell,” Dinah laughed, though not rudely, “Looks like you got a lot on your mind,”

“Understatement,” Percy muttered,

Dinah, who had decided she likely wasn’t going to get much of a workout in, threw her bag on the ground, and perched herself on top of it. “Helps if you talk about it, at least, in my experience,” she said kindly, idly flicking a strand of her wig out of her eyes,

Percy snorted, before turning and reloading in front of the bag, hopping lightly on the balls of his feet as he jabbed, “Unless you’re a licensed shrink, I’m pretty sure you don’t want to get within thirty miles of the mess that’s in my head right now.”

“Good thing I am,” She responded cheekily,

She wasn’t sure why she was pressing the matter. In all honesty, she shouldn’t have even been talking to Percy. Batman, after the mess at the museum, had told her to keep close tabs on the man, usually that meant tailing from a distance, not letting him know he was being investigated. But when opportunity knocks and all that right?

Percy stopped his punching, turning a bewildered look in her direction,

“Seriously?” he asked,

“Seriously,” she said with a laugh,

Percy smirked at her, “Well now I definitely don’t want to say anything,” he responded with a laugh of his own,

“Don’t be an asshole,” she laughed right back, “Tell you what, because I’m such a caring person, first session is free, no charge, so what do you say? Let me shrink your head a bit?”

He actually paused, and looked like he was genuinely contemplating the question, which she took as a good sign.

He sighed, and rested his head against the bag, “Wouldn’t be the first dumb decision I made tonight,” He murmured, though she was pretty sure the comment wasn’t made for her,

“This have to do with the attack at the museum tonight?” she prompted gently,

He scoffed, “Heard about that huh?”

She shrugged, “Word travels fast, were you there?”

Percy nodded, and she smiled,

“Glad to see you’re ok,” which was the truth. She knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself, but she never liked the idea of non-capes getting caught in the crossfire of their fights.

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” He said with a gentle smile of his own,

“So, what’s going on?” Dinah asked again, shifting slightly in her makeshift chair,

Percy sighed, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“It doesn’t really have to do with the attack tonight. Not the first time I’ve been shot at, won’t be the last either. So that’s not the problem. The problem is, I-I ran into someone from my childhood tonight. Dredged up a lot of memories I thought that I’d buried.

“Bad memories?” She probed,

Percy shrugged, and made an iffy gesture with his hand, “Yes and no, more like…conflicting. She’s-she’s a friend of my sister. My half-sister.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Total lie, one she felt uncomfortably guilty with,

Percy snorted, “For nearly eighteen years, neither did I. Then she just popped into my life. Only knew he her for a few months. But…some stuff happened, some bad stuff. And I kind of…just disappeared. Haven’t talked to her since. According to Rachel,” Dinah assumed that was the person he’d run into tonight, “She took my disappearance, poorly. I guess she didn’t have a great childhood either. And according to Rachel, she was beyond excited to have another relative in her life, Rachel told me to get back in touch with her, but…I don’t know.”

“Why is that?” Dinah prompted,

Percy shifted uncomfortably, “I-I don’t know. I guess it’s just…I left that part of my life behind. Finally managed to start paving my own way you know? It feels like I’m finally in charge of my own destiny, and then this happens, and suddenly I feel like it’s all about to come crashing back down.”

Dinah nodded, “You’re worried about losing the autonomy you’ve finally found for yourself. That by pulling on that thread, you’re welcoming back all the things you’d been trying to get away from. You’re on your own, a grown man with his own life, and career, and new relationships, and here comes someone you barely know, barging back into your life, telling you to reopen a chapter of your history you’re trying to leave behind. It’s more than understandable to feel uneasy.” Dinah counseled,

“I guess the question is then,” she shifted, placing one fist under her chin, “Is whether you want a relationship with this woman you barely know. Do you want to potentially reopen your heart to a part of your life you’ve tried leaving behind, and dredging up past memories in favor of a new relationship, or do you want to take the leap of faith, and trust that now that you’re older, wiser, and more experienced, you can handle whatever gets thrown your way.”

Percy groaned, sliding down the bag, and sitting on the floor, pulling his knees up to his chin,

“Emotions are bullshit,” he sighed into his kneecaps,

Dinah chuckled, “I don’t disagree, but you didn’t answer my question.”

Percy looked up at her, his sea-green eyes seemed to shine in the dim light of the room, “I-I don’t really know. I’ve never really had a family before. Mom died when I was young, and I was thrown into the system before my-my caretaker found me. I didn’t really have anyone I could rely on for the longest time, only ever had two good friends until I joined the teams. I don’t know what I’d do with a family.” He looked back up at her, his eyes glistening with uncertainty,

“What would you do?”

Dinah shifted, as she pondered the question, “I’d…I think I’d reach out honestly.” She said, meeting his gaze, “We only have one life to live, and if I found I had family, that wanted to be a part of my life, that wanted to know me, care for me, and love me, I think I’d just have trust that they really feel that way.”

“Even if that meant throwing yourself back into a world you’d been so desperately trying to avoid?”

Dinah knew he was referring to the gods. Knew that he was worried about being caught back up in whatever life he’d had before. Diana hadn’t been super forthcoming with the details, but she had an inkling that whatever his life had been like, it hadn’t been pretty. Hadn’t been safe, or nurturing. That he desperately wanted to avoid going back to that.

“I do,” she said softly, “I’d give anything to have my mom back, to have any real family again. It’s comforting you know? Having someone who loves you unconditionally, who simply wants to be part of your life, hear the good, bad, and the ugly. No one wants to have to try and face the world alone, and when you have people like that, it makes even the impossible seem a bit more manageable.”

Percy didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at the floor, “So you think I should run with this,” It wasn’t really a question,

Dinah nodded, “I do,” she said gently, “You’re allowed to let people in Percy. Especially if they want to be in your life. In spite of the risks, I think the benefits outweigh everything else.”

And she meant it. She wasn’t sure why she was helping him like she was, or why he was opening up to a total stranger, but she wasn’t going to question it. Percy Jackson was a mystery, the deeper she dug, the more she unraveled, the more she wanted to know.

Percy groaned, and rubbed tiredly at his eyes, but when he looked back at her, he was smiling, “Thanks,” he said softly, “I know we don’t really know each other that well, but I really appreciate the help,”

She smiled back, “Hey, you were willing to help out Artemis, consider this my repayment.” Then she smirked at him, “Even if you did interrupt my workout,”

Percy laughed, “Sorry about that,” he said,

“Well,” she drawled, standing up and stretching her arms over her head, not missing the way Percy’s eyes seemed to linger for a moment on her taught abdominals, “I know a way you can make it up to me,”

“Oh?” Percy responded, meeting her eyes,

“Yeah,” she grinned, “If you’re tired of doing it by yourself, you could always go a few rounds with me,” She turned, grabbing her bag to head into the locker room, before calling over her shoulder, her grin widening at his expression, “For the record, I was talking about sparring,”

Percy shook off his expression,

“That’d be nice too,”

Notes:

AND WE’RE BACK! Alright folks, thanks for being patient with me on this one, I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it. Couple of announcements, for those who haven’t read The Last Argonaut, first, check it out, I love that story, but two, I’m approaching my writing differently. From now on, I’ll be focusing on one story specifically, and working through an “arc” usually about 4-5 chapters I’d say, before moving onto to my next piece. Chapters, upon completion, will be released once a day until they are gone. So you have that to look forward to. Now, onto another announcement, to my fans of Son of a Sailor. It’s not abandoned, but consider it on a hiatus for further notice. I was honestly never that serious about it, it was just an idea I had stuck In my head that I needed to write. I never expected the kind of following it got, so I need time to focus on putting something together for it, and I can’t do that and Our Protector at the same time. Too many conflicting plots around the same characters for my tiny brain. I will come back to it at some point. Just, probably not any time soon unfortunately.

As for this chapter! Percy’s heritage finally revealed, yes he is Roman. I think I dropped enough hints throughout the story to make it obvious, so I hope this wasn’t too much of a shock to you. Things have gone very different, I’ve taken liberties with canon and the mist because I can to make the story I want to make. But please, tell me what you thought, let me know how you’re liking the story, and I can’t wait for what’s to come. I think the last chapter of this arc has some of my best writing I’ve ever done, so get excited! As always, thanks so much for all the love and support, you guys are incredible! Stay safe, love you all, and see you tomorrow!

Love,

LilDB

Chapter 10: Coming Together

The following morning, Percy and Montoya split ways again. The pathologist had called Montoya that morning, to let her know they were ready to do the autopsy on the second victim, the Silver’s personal chauffeur. Both her and Percy, expected nothing new to come from the second cut, but one of them needed to present for it regardless. While she was doing that, Percy was running down his only other lead from Selina.

Percy rubbed behind his ear, and he stared up at the sign over the doorway. Kleinman’s was a high-end jeweler and boutique on the upper-east side of town. One of the wealthier parts of the city. Surrounded on all sides by upper-class restaurants, salons, and department stores, Percy felt immensely out of place. But this was the only real lead he had on the bracelet, and the last he wanted to do, was get some cape involved in his investigation.

Which was what brought him to Kleinman’s. He hadn’t mentioned the sum total of the information he’d been given by Selina, to either Gordon or Montoya, he didn’t care, the information would all be there in his official report of the investigation. But Percy was bound and determined, to not have to rely on the Bat to break through the case. Only problem was, with every cop in the city looking for Romanji, Percy didn’t suspect, he’d have much time to break the encryption.

With a sigh of resignation, Percy pushed open the door to the upper-class establishment.

The bell above the door rang as he entered, the store was as upper-class as Percy had expected it to be. The rows of display cases, held beautiful and ornate sets of jewelry, ranging from simple rings, to necklaces, and even the odd bracelet and band.

Taking a quick look at some of the prices, and Percy nearly spat up the coffee in his stomach.

As Percy approached, an older man looked up from behind the counter. He was in his late sixties or early seventies, with graying hair that sat in small tufts on his scalp. Age lines dotted his aging face, and large nose, and he adjusted a small pair of spectacles as Percy approached the counter,

“Can I…help you sir?” the man asked, not quite able to keep the condensation from his voice.

Percy flashed his badge an identification as he glared at the man, “I’m detective Jackson with the GCPD.” he said,

“Is there something I can help with, officer?” the man-judging by the ownership badge on his breast Percy assumed this was Kleinman-turned his nose down at Percy.

Suppressing a snort at the rude man, Percy nodded his head, “I’m working an investigation, and I have been led to believe that one of the parties involved might have been a client of yours.”

Percy reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and bringing up the picture of the bracelet. “Do you recognize this bracelet?”

The man huffed in agitation, but accepted the phone, as Percy slid it across the countertop. He glanced down for a moment, and for just a split second, it looked to Percy as though recognition passed through his eyes. But it disappeared as quick as it had appeared, and the man adopted an apathetic expression, staring dryly at Percy,

“Apologies officer, but I’ve never seen this piece before. I’m afraid I cannot be of assistance,” Percy narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Percy had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He’d been through this exact scenario entirely too many times. But that meant he also knew how to handle the situation. Exaggerating a sigh, he ducked his head, and did his best to look regretful,

“Damn,” he muttered, but made sure his voice was loud enough to be heard, “This was the last good lead we had on the bastard that killed that little girl.” And then Percy turned his back, and made it look as though he were going to dejectedly leave the building.

“Wait!” Called out the man behind the counter,

Hook, line, and sinker,

Hiding a smirk, Percy turned, an eyebrow raised in confusion,

The man behind the counter shook his head, doing his best to appear sheepish, “My apologies, it has been a long morning, might I have another look at that photograph, I believe that I might have not seen it correctly,” Percy made a show of considering the man. He didn’t want to make it look like he’d manufactured the man’s reaction. After a moment’s hesitation, Percy slowly reproached the desk, and slid the phone back over to the owner. The man took it, and held the device closer to his face.

He then nodded at Percy, “Detective, might I see your badge once more?” he asked. Curious, but willing to go along with it, Percy nodded, and brought his identification back out. Percy watched as the man studied Percy’s information, before jotting something down on a piece of paper beside him.

The man then disappeared behind a small curtain leading to the back of the shop. Percy frowned, unsure of what exactly was happening, but curious to see where this was potentially going. Straining his ears, he heard the man speaking, likely on the phone, though the voices were too muffled for him to make out what was being said.

He felt his body tense slightly, as he began to worry about whether or not he’d just walked right into a very bad situation.

Unconsciously, he began surveying the room. Identifying chokepoints, possible points of entry, and spots that would create good cover, should things suddenly go sideways.

His worry was unfounded however, as the man returned from behind the counter, without a word to Percy, he walked toward the front of the store, and flipped the OPEN sign, to CLOSED. He then gestured softly for Percy to follow him.

Unease settling over his spine, Percy hesitantly followed. He didn’t like this, but his body’s natural instincts weren’t telling him he was about to walk into a trap. Deciding to play it safe either way, he surreptitiously flipped the strap off the holster of his sidearm at his waist. He still had the piece in his shoulder holster, and the one in the small ankle holster around his leg, but the one at his hip would allow for greater immediate reaction.

His caution was ultimately unnecessary however, as the store proprietor simply ushered him into a small office in the back of the room. Closing the door behind him, the man took a seat in the small chair behind the desk.

“You may re-holster your weapon detective. I assure you, no harm will come to you in my store.” The man said easily, but Percy didn’t move. While his instincts weren’t screaming at him just yet, Percy hadn’t lived as long as he had, without being cautious. Cautious, and paranoid. Since the man in front of him was acting beyond strangely, Percy maintained his guard,

The man sighed, “I apologize detective, but one cannot be too careful. I was simply running your name and badge number by a trusted friend. I needed to make sure that you were not only who you claimed you were, but could be trusted. Given what that bracelet represents, I have great fear for my well-being. Now please, have a seat,”

Percy made no move to put the slip back over the handle of his weapon, but did as the man bade. Taking a seat in the comfortable seat across the desk from the store owner.

“Miss Silver is dead then?” He asked without preamble.

Percy, who was growing more confused by the second, nodded his head slowly, “Found her three nights ago, shot twice in the back and once between the eyes. We have reason to believe that she was kidnapped, and taken away from her penthouse. It is my belief that her death was linked to that bracelet.”

“You have the bracelet in police custody then?” the man asked,

Percy nodded, “Only myself, my partner, the chief forensics specialist, and the commissioner are aware of the bracelet.” Percy said, leaving out that Selina was the one to tell him about the store.

The man looked relieved at the information, “Good, that’s-that’s good,” he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbing at his forehead, “Ah, I forgot, my name is Simon Kleinman, I am the proprietor of this establishment, and I was the one to craft the Miss Silver’s bracelet.”

Percy nodded, feeling slightly relieved that the trail he’d what found, might have been working out in his favor,

“Can I trust that you know what that bracelet really is then?” Kleinman asked,

“I’m afraid I have to ask you to clarify that statement,” Percy said cautiously. Just because the man was looking like he might be helpful, didn’t mean that Percy wasn’t going to play this carefully,

“I am aware that it is not really a bracelet, but an encryption key, yes.” Kleinman confirmed, and Percy let out a small relieved breath.

“Were you the one to put the encryption in place?” Percy asked immediately, hopeful that he may get lucky.

Kleinman shook his head, “Unfortunately not. And before you ask, no, I do not know the identity of the one who did. We paid through a series of wire transfers to an anonymous bank account somewhere in the Bahamas. We only ever worked with what I assume was a pseudonym; someone by the name of Gizmo. They supplied the tech, and I was the one to craft the bracelet around it.”

Fighting the urge to groan, Percy pulled out a pen and pad, and began taking notes down,

“All right,” Percy said slowly, “Let’s back up then, and start from the beginning. I’m going to just take a shot in the dark here and assume you’re close to the St, Clouds?”

Kleinman nodded, “Indeed I am. I’ve known Grace and Alexander for many years. They have been treasured clients, and better friends. I was there for Silver’s baptism,” His eyes grew slightly watery, and he dabbed at their corners with the side of his handkerchief. “I have been making custom pieces for them for some time.”

“Ok, when did the couple come to you, to make the order for the bracelet?” Percy asked as he wrote,

“One month and seven days ago.” Kleinman answered immediately, causing Percy to pause in his writing,

“That’s…very specific,” he said slowly, looking at the man carefully,

“I remember it clearly. Because I knew; the moment they told me what the bracelet was, I knew that Grace and Alexander were in trouble.” He said, and Percy froze.

“You know what’s on that bracelet?” He asked, his pulse picking up,

“I do not,” he said softly, pulling his glasses off his face and rubbing tiredly at his eyes. And Percy frowned,

“I thought you just said that you knew what the bracelet was,”

“Just because I know what the bracelet is, doesn’t mean I know what’s on there,” Kleinman answered back smoothly,

Percy’s brow furrowed, as he grew increasingly frustrated, “Ok,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm and in control, “So if you don’t know what’s on the bracelet, how did you know the St. Clouds were in trouble.”

“Simple deduction really, they had been once more receiving…troubling…messages,” Kleinman said softly,

“Does this have to do with Christian Falcone?” Percy asked,

Kleinman froze, then nodded, “I suppose if you managed to find me, then it shouldn’t be surprising that you know about that.”

Percy shook his head, “Actually Mr. Kleinman, I barely know anything, only that Falcone had been supposedly harassing the St. Cloud’s for some time.”

“It was more than simple harassment, detective.” Kleinman sighed, looking even older than his already advancing years, “Christian Falcone has been after the St. Cloud’s for years. Has done everything from bribing city officials for advancements on waiting lists for his own personal venues, to hiring thugs to hijack shipments of supplies for the St. Cloud galleries, all the way up to theft, extortion, and murder. You hear about the museum heist in Seoul a few years ago?”

Percy shook his head that he hadn’t,

“It was the St. Cloud’s first gallery in the Asian markets, a very important, and very profitable step for them. One that established them as not only top dealers in the world, but the dealers. It had been the exact location that Falcone had been trying to get into for years, but he kept getting roadblocked by the South Korean government. He didn’t take kindly to that, and he hired a gang of international criminals known as CYCLOPS to raid the museum. The St, Clouds lost nearly one-hundred million in prized pieces, before the gang was caught by the Justice League. For a while, that seemed like it was going to be the end of it, Falcone stopped his posturing, and things began to settle down…”

“Until they didn’t,” Percy added,

“Until they didn’t” Kleinman nodded,

But why would Falcone just stop? If he’d invested that much capital into the plan, why not see it all the way through? Better question, why wait until so long after the fact, to start acting again. And more importantly,

What the hell was on that bracelet that was worth killing the St. Cloud’s over?

Percy’s brow furrowed, confused, he had questions and concerns, how just a simple jeweler seemed to know so much, but he wasn’t going to pull on that thread quite yet, he had other questions.

“Why was Christian Falcone so concerned with opening art galleries?” Percy asked, “It’s a pretty far cry from the other…forms of investment his family is involved in.”

Kleinman nodded in understanding, “The Falcone’s are looking to establish their business in overseas markets. They want to appear to have legitimate businesses, that actually run as a front for their criminal activities. Something like an art gallery, which allows for a high volume of incoming cash flow, makes it easier to not only launder incoming dirty money, but also allows them certain tax write offs that don’t appear as suspicious to the federal government. Moreover, the kind of space needed for art galleries, provides the perfect place to hide weapons, armaments, drugs, you name it. They can smuggle all sorts of illegal items through their own private means, completely legally, utilizing high profile art galleries as their smoke screen.”

It made sense, in theory. But that didn’t explain the bracelet. What was so important that Falcone would abandon pursuing the galleries, in favor of that bracelet?

Percy sighed, and rubbed behind his ear. The more of this that became unraveled, the more confusing it became. There was just something not making sense about everything. Like why Silver was the one with the encryption. What was on the bracelet. Or, and this was really starting to bother Percy, why the ever-loving hell, the St. Clouds were unable to get in touch with him!

The entire situation could likely have been resolved at that point, if the damn parents could take thirty seconds, to answer a phone! Which was even more infuriating and confusing given that Selina had told him how much the two older aristocrats loved their daughter!

There was a pit in Percy’s stomach, one that had been growing for days, but was steadily getting larger, and becoming vocal. What if there was a reason the parents couldn’t get in touch with him? What if Silver, hadn’t been the sole target?

Percy pushed that line of thinking to the back of his mind, he didn’t want to consider the possibility for the moment, even if it seemed like it was becoming more and more likely the longer time went on.

Shaking it off, he turned his attention back to Kleinman, “Thank you for your time sir, you’ve been very helpful, is there anything else you can do for me?”

Kleinman looked down for a moment, his brows furrowing and his forehead crinkling as he thought. After a moment, he looked back up at Percy, “Unfortunately not, detective. That is all I can think of for the moment. I apologize that I can’t be of more help.”

Percy shook his head, standing up from his chair, “No sir, you’ve been very helpful. Thank you.” Fishing a card out of his pocket, Percy handed it over to the man, “If you can think of anything else, or have cause for concern, that is my mobile number. Reach me anytime, day or night.”

Kleinman stood up as well, taking the card from Percy before reaching a hand out to Percy to shake, “I…appreciate that, detective. How close are you to an arrest?”

“Close, I’ll give you a call when we make an official arrest.” Percy replied, in spite of how helpful the man seemed to be, Percy wasn’t about to leave anything to chance. He didn’t want to risk accidentally tipping off Romanji that they not only knew who he was, but knew who he worked for.

With farewells given, Percy turned on his heel, and was escorted by the older man out of the shop. He was just about to pull out his phone to call Montoya, when she beat him to the punch. Her name flashing across the screen of his phone, pulling it up, he accepted the call as he opened the door to his car, and got behind the driver’s seat.

“Your ears burning Monty? I was just thinking of calling you to-”

“Jackson,” Montoya’s voice came across the speaker, immediately putting Percy on edge. She never called him by his actual name. Tensing, he put the car in the drive, and peeled away from the curb, flashing his lights as he did so. Whatever was going on, Percy assumed he would need to get there in a hurry.

“What’s going on?” Percy asked, swearing around a parked sedan, before taking a sharp left. He was instinctually heading back to the precinct,

“Get to One-Police-Plaza,” Montoya commanded, “I just got off the phone with Gordon, we have a meeting with Interpol,”

Percy’s stomach clenched, and he knew what was coming before Montoya even said it,

“Alexander and Grace St. Cloud are dead.”

BREAK

It was his first time in the headquarters for the entire Gotham Police Department. While the outside of the building maintained a traditionally gothic look, the inside was entirely different story. It was completely modernized, with contemporary amenities befitting the twenty-first century.

Not that he’d had the time to appreciate any of it.

He’d barely put two feet inside the building, before he was being ushered to a nearby elevator, and brought to the top floor of the building, where he was led to the office of the commissioner. Inside the office, was the commissioner himself, Montoya, and a man Percy didn’t recognize. He was tall, a little over six feet, and powerfully built, with a shock of gray hair, and pale gray eyes.

Seeing Percy enter the room, he strode over, hand outstretched, “Agent King Faraday, Interpol. You must be detective Jackson,” Faraday introduced himself,

Percy accepted the handshake, pumping the man’s equally firm grip once, before releasing it,

“Wish it were under better circumstances agent,” Percy replied evenly, “What’s happened?”

Faraday nodded, looking over to Gordon for permission, a good sign to Percy. Not many federal or international agents followed or adhered to local hierarchy. At Gordon’s nod, the man pulled out a file from the large overcoat he was wearing, opening the file, he pulled several pictures from the inside, and splayed them out on Gordon’s desk.

They crime scene photos, taken a few days ago based on the watermark on the bottom of the photos. The photos were of a pair of individuals that Percy recognized as Alexander and Grace St. Cloud. They were motionless in the photos, lying face down in pools of their own blood, both throats slashed, as they lay in their morning wear.

“Damn,” Montoya murmured at Percy’s side, as she investigated the photos. Percy barely heard her; he was too focused on the slashes on the necks. The strokes were clean, precise. The work of someone who not only knew what they were doing, but had done it several times before.

His eyes scanned the rest of the photos, and the scenes within. He looked at what he thought were drag markings in one of the photos, as streaked blood was covering the side of the bed and part of the floor. Either one of them hadn’t died immediately, and had tried crawling away, or they’d been moved.

He then took notice of the state the room itself was in. The photos didn’t give Percy much to work with, but from what he could see, one of two things were likely. Either the assassin had gotten caught, unlikely given the skill of the kills, and the two St. Clouds had put up a fight, or the assassin had killed the art dealers, before tearing the room apart, looking for something.

Faraday spoke as he placed the photos on the desk, “A few days ago, a maid in Brussels attempted to enter the penthouse used by Alexander and Grace St. Cloud, to do a routine turn-down. She discovered the bodies at around eleven a.m. and the coroner in Belgium placed the time of death at some point earlier that morning. Guests in the hotel confirm that they heard nothing out of the ordinary, though one guest did recall hearing what sounding like drawers being slammed around.”

He paused and pointed at the first picture of the bodies, “As you can see, they were killed quickly, and efficiently. One stroke, laterally over the carotid artery on each of them. We think it was a pro, we were keeping silent on this, until a couple of hours ago, when I received word that the daughter had been murdered in an alley here in Gotham. Judging by the time of the attack, I can guess that both attacks took place on the same day, and are most certainly connected. We just don’t know why, or what the motive was. We were hoping you might be able to shed some light on things,”

“Anybody you like for this?” Montoya asked, picking up a photo and examining it closely,

Faraday shrugged, “Could be any number of people if I’m honest. Feels like every year there’s at least a dozen new players. Although I’d put my money on a guy calling himself the Black Spider. Thug for hire, works mostly with blades, and is known for getting his targets in their beds at night. This seems like the type of job he’d do, but we won’t know until we manage to get our hands on the security footage from the building across the street. The Belgians have been playing hardball,”

“Wouldn’t be Spider,” Percy said softly, still peering at the photos, “He got busted a few weeks ago. Something to do with the break in at WayneTech.”

Faraday frowned, but nodded his head, while Montoya grunted in annoyance,

“Well,” Percy said softly, as he continued to examine the photos, he’d only been half-listening to the man, “This certainly explains a few things,”

“Like?” Faraday asked, though not unkindly,

“Like why I haven’t been able to get in touch with them, in spite of the fact that everyone I’ve interviewed, has sworn up and down that these two loved their daughter more than life itself. It also explains a problem I’ve been having. We know what these guys were looking for, but it’s clear that they didn’t.”

“So, you noticed it too?” Montoya said softly,

Percy nodded, “Looks like whoever our pro is, tossed their penthouse like our boy tossed Silver’s.”

Faraday nodded, “We came to a similar conclusion. The pictures don’t do a great job of showing you, but the entire penthouse got turned upside down. The bed was thrown from the box-spring, cubbies and drawers opened and thrown around the room. Luggage bags torn to shreds. It was obvious they were trying to find something; we just had no idea what it was,”

He tilted his head in Percy and Montoya’s direction, “So you know what they were looking for?”

Montoya nodded, but looked to Percy, since it was his find, and his leads that were doing the majority of the legwork on the investigation.

Percy nodded his thanks, and brought out an image of the bracelet, “We suspect that whoever killed Silver St. Cloud was likely looking for something, he not only tossed her penthouse, but we have an eye witness that claims he searched the body of miss St. Cloud after she was shot, and became visibly agitated when he didn’t find what he was looking for. We believe it was this bracelet.”

Faraday took the photo and examined it closely, “What makes it so special, some kind of fancy, rare emerald?”

Montoya shook her head, and pointed at the jewel, “That’s no jewel stud, it’s an encryption device. Think of it like some kind of USB drive on steroids.”

“Based on what you’re showing us, as well as some of the interviews I’ve been having,” Percy explained, as Faraday handed his phone back to Percy, “The person who hired these guys didn’t know what the drive was. Probably assumed, like Montoya suggested, that it was a flash drive or something. We don’t know what’s on it unfortunately, need a supercomputer to break into it,” Percy quickly said, seeing the look on Faraday’s face,

The man nodded, disappointed, but looked back up after a moment. He glanced between Percy and Montoya, scrutinizing them,

“So where are you in your investigation?” Faraday asked,

“Depends on what you’re looking for from us agent,” Gordon chimed in, speaking for the first time since Percy’s arrival.

Faraday looked at the older man, before chuckling lightly, “I’m not the feds Commissioner, I’m not looking to yank jurisdiction out from under you, I’m just looking to compare notes. Unless you're suggesting that whoever killed Silver, also killed the parents. Which, I can tell you, is an impossibility, given the time of death of both sets of victims. And since I know you’re all smarter than that, then you must all realize that we have at least two killer’s out there, on the loose, and at least one person bankrolling all of this,”

Percy hummed in agreement, “We’re all on the same page then,” he then looked to Gordon for permission. He probably didn’t actually need it, but it was that thought that counted more often than not. At Gordon’s nod, Percy launched into an explanation about Romanji, the bracelet, and all of the events leading up to Silver’s death.

“Sounds like you have someone you like for this,” Faraday observed cautiously, to which Percy once again looked to Gordon for confirmation, Gordon nodded,

“We have reason to believe that Christian Falcone is the one responsible for the hit. If someone hit the parents as well, I’m willing to put good money on the fact that he ordered them as well,”

Faraday arched a brow, and crossed his arms over his chest, “Why’s that?”

Percy shrugged, then looked to Montoya, “Was going to tell you later anyways, but you remember me mentioning that lead I got from Selina?”

Montoya looked annoyed but nodded, “Well, Simon Kleinman, an old friend of the St. Clouds, was the guy who put the order on the bracelet together. Told me some interesting things about the real relationship between the St. Cloud’s and the Falcone’s,” Percy looked over at Faraday, “Before I forget, does the name ‘Gizmo’ mean anything to you?”

Faraday groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Yes, I’m unfortunately very familiar with that little shit,”

“Uh, what?” Percy asked, confused by the reaction,

Faraday waved off the confusion, “Sorry, he’s some kind of wunderkind with tech. Has been giving Interpol the runaround for the last few years. Got his start in cryptocurrency believe it or not, before he decided to go off market with his talents. He likes hacking into Interpol databases and replacing our files with porn.”

Percy stifled a snort, “Right,” he said awkwardly, and Montoya hid a laugh behind a cough in her hand, “Well, erm, anyway, looks like the St. Cloud’s hired him to make the encryption for the necklace. Which, judging by your reaction, means that you probably have no way of breaking into it,”

Faraday regretfully shook his head, “Unfortunately not, we’re better funded than most law enforcement agencies, but his tech is next level. I won’t be able to help out with that much.”

“Figures,” Percy grumbled,

“Getting back on topic,” Montoya said, steering the conversation back on track, “You were talking about Kleinman?” she prompted Percy, who nodded his thanks,

“Right, well, he told me that Falcone’s relationship with the St. Cloud’s was a little more than just some minor harassment.” Percy took the next couple of minutes to catch the rest of the team up to speed with what he’d uncovered that morning,

Percy met Montoya’s eyes, “You’re thinking what I am, right?” Percy asked,

“Depends,” Montoya said, leaning back against the wall, “If you’re thinking that whatever is on that flash drive has to do with Falcone? Then yes, we are.”

Percy nodded, and Gordon cut in, “Mind walking us through your thought processes detectives?” Percy shrugged and looked over to Montoya, he’d done most of the talking so far, and wanted her to take over for a bit,

She rolled her eyes, but smiled in appreciation, “Ok,” she began slowly, pushing off the wall as she started to pace softly around the room, “Why would Falcone back off like he had? You invest as much time, energy, and man power into trying to force the St. Clouds out of the way, but they won’t budge, so why does Falcone take a step back?”

She wasn’t looking for a reply, “Because something stopped him. For one reason or another, he stops dead in his tracks, and puts an end to pursuing the St. Clouds. His hiatus extends for three years, and then this happens. Why?”

Percy spoke up for her, “Because the St. Clouds had something on him. Something that could have buried him.”

“The bracelet,” Faraday said, catching on, “You think the St. Clouds were blackmailing Falcone?”

Montoya shrugged, “Could be. Could have simply been a catalogue of evidence of what he’d been doing to them. Hell, for all we know, it could have been a sex tape. But I’m thinking that the St. Clouds had something on Falcone, and he wanted it buried in the worst possible way.”

“Only problem for him,” Percy chimed in, “Was that he didn’t know what it was he was looking for. He thinks he’s looking for a flash drive, which is why Romanji just threw away the bracelet, and why he was tearing apart the penthouse.”

“It also explains why whoever killed Grace and Alexander, flipped their room,” Montoya continued, “And why both targets were hit at once. Get both the parents and the kid, then one can’t warn or find out about the other, and go into hiding.”

“Not to mention,” Percy continued, picking up Montoya’s stream of consciousness, “That by knocking off the St. Clouds, it opens the way for Falcone to move in on their turf. Two birds, one stone.”

Percy and Montoya paused, and stared at one another, before grinning, glad to be on the same wavelength.

“Don’t celebrate just yet,” Gordon said, drawing their attention, “That’s a fine theory and all, but we have no concrete evidence linking Falcone to the hit, we still don’t have Romanji in custody, and now we have a third assassin somewhere in the wind.”

Percy nodded, as Montoya’s phone began to chirp, apologizing, the woman turned away from the others as she answered the incoming call.

“I understand sir,” Percy said looking to Gordon,

“I take it you’ve gotten no further with that data drive then?” Gordon prompted,

Percy shook his head, annoyance and bitter disappointment swelling in his breast, “No sir, Kleinman was the last good lead I had on anything pertaining to the drive. Unless we had the St. Clouds alive to unlock it, or to testify against Falcone, we have nothing concrete.”

Gordon sighed, running a hand over his face, “I was worried about that. I was really hoping we wouldn’t have to rely on him for this, but it’s looking like we might not have a choice in the matter.”

“Him who?” Faraday prompted, but neither Gordon nor Percy had the chance to answer, as Montoya stormed back into the room,

“Sir, that was Central, Romanji just got picked up trying to sneak back into the penthouse. Uniforms are transporting him back to One-Seven now,”

“We’ve got this bastard, but he’s small game. We want Falcone, so get after him, get me a confession, and get me a link to Falcone,” Gordon demanded, to which Percy grunted a reply, and made to tear out the door,

“And Jackson!” Gordon called out, stopping Percy in the doorway, “Sorry son, but looks like we’ll be outsourcing that bracelet to someone else,”

Percy frowned, as a bubble of frustration pooled in the pit of his stomach, but he buried it. There was work to be done, so instead he simply nodded at the commissioner, and gave Faraday a farewell nod as he left.

Forgoing the elevator, Percy tore down the stairs, taking them two at a time, Montoya hot on his heels. He was bound and determined to get something out of Romanji.

He might not have been able to crack the bracelet, but he could get Romanji to flip on Falcone, and then maybe they wouldn’t need whatever was on that device.

One thing was certain to Percy however.

Bastard was going to go down for this, one way or another.

Notes:

A bit shorter this time, but we’re back on track as the investigation begins to wind down. I’m excited, next chapter, everything that I’ve been setting up really comes into fruition, before shit just starts popping off. Get ready, because the next couple chapters are about to be electric. Thanks again for all the support, hope you guys are enjoying the ride, Lemme know what ya’ll think. Stay safe, and love you all,

Love,

LilDB

Chapter 11: Making the Case

The room was silent, save for the occasional loud crunch, and the crinkle of plastic. Interview rooms were, like many aspects of his career, nothing like they were depicted on television. The big, open spaced room, with a simple metal table in the middle, and dull lighting, often like a dungeon. Real questioning chambers were nothing like that. Such as the one Percy was in. It was small, barely bigger than a closet. With bright white walls, and bright fluorescent lights. On one side of the room, by the door, was a simple wooden desk, with a soft back chair. Across from the desk was a hard metal chair. Where an annoyed Romanji sat, wincing slightly every time Percy bit down into his bag of chips.

Percy himself, was slouched in a chair across from Romanji, his feet perched up on the desk by his side. The second he’d entered the precinct, Romanji had been crying for his lawyer. So, naturally, as was his right, his lawyer was contacted, and Percy and Montoya refrained from questioning the man. That had been yesterday, and Percy and Montoya had been working to meticulously start breaking down the man’s case, as well as doing their best to shatter any potential alibi. However, when they received the call that the state-appointed public defender was on their way, Percy had headed to the room.

He had managed to talk Montoya into letting him be the one to conduct the interview.

They had ensured that the cameras were on, and that everything was being recorded from start to finish. They didn’t want Romanji getting cut loose due to a technicality.

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t screw with the bastard either.

That was part of the play. Unnerve the hell out of him. Make him wonder what they really had on him. Percy made every effort to look as relaxed, and unconcerned as possible. It was all part of the deception. Did they have the bastard dead to rights? Even if they didn’t have the camera footage of him in the St. Cloud car hours before the murder. Even if he didn’t fit the description of their suspect, and even if they hadn’t had his fingerprints, which Percy was certain would be a match to both of their crime scenes, there was the gun.

The man had been dumb enough to bring a gun with him to the penthouse. Not just any gun. A nine-millimeter. A nine-millimeter that was had been rushed over to One-Police-Plaza to be run against the NIBIN database, as well as tested against the shell casings found in both crime scenes. A nine-millimeter that Percy was certain would test as a match for both crime scenes.

They had Alberto Romanji dead to rights. It wasn’t a matter of if he was going to jail, it was only a matter of how long would he be there.

So yes, the plan was to unnerve him. Because they didn’t want Romanji. Was he the one to shoot St. Cloud? Yes, a fourteen-year-olds life was cut tragically short because this son of a bitch was as amoral as it came. But he was just a two-bit thug. A punk with a gun and willing to use it. No, Falcone was the real prize. Falcone was the one they really wanted.

Percy was jolted from his thoughts abruptly, when the door to the room opened. A young woman, barely in her mid-twenties walked in. She was tall, maybe only a few inches short of six feet. Dressed in an all-black work suit that complimented her caramel skin, with dark black hair, and brown eyes hidden behind thick-rimmed black glasses.

Percy thought she was on the younger side for being a practicing public defender, maybe only a year or so out of school.

“I hope you haven’t been harassing my client detective, would hate for your work to be over before it even began,” she said snidely, her voice lightly accented, sounding to Percy like she was from one of the posher parts of Britain.

Percy didn’t get the chance to respond, “Who the hell are you?” Romanji demanded, speaking up for the first time since Percy had entered the room.

The lawyer didn’t bat an eye, “Sarah Rosthein, I’m your lawyer,” she said, simply.

“The hell you are!” Romanji said, getting more agitated by the second, “Where the hell is Carlos?”

Rosthein arched a finely manicured brow,

“I don’t know anyone by that name, I was appointed to you by the state, and Mr. Romanji,” She cut across his outburst before he could interrupt, shooting a meaningful look in Percy’s direction, “I would offer my first piece of council; continue exercising your right not to incriminate yourself in front of the detective,”

Romanji, who Percy could swear had been about to mouth off, shut his jaw with a click.

Percy managed to keep the smirk off his face,

So, looks like Falcone usually kept a lawyer on retainer for him, but this time, has officially cut him loose. Judging by the look on his face, that doesn’t bode well for his future wellbeing, Percy thought to himself, as he watched the exchange.

“As for you,” She said, turning a glare on Percy, “What is my client being held for? I was told he was being charged with two counts of murder, but from what the district attorney’s office presented, you don’t have enough concrete evidence to hold him. So, unless you have something new to add, we’re done here,”

“Funny thing that,” Percy said, not flinching away from the woman, “He’s being held on possession of an illegal firearm. Picked it up off of him when we brought him in, serial number was shaved off.”

She didn’t respond, but her glare did intensify somewhat,

“Well then,” Percy said, clapping his hands together, “Since we’re all lawyered up and comfortable, mind if I start asking some questions?”

Rosthein ignored him for a moment, as she busied herself placing her carrying case on the table and empty chair next to Romanji, she motioned for Romanji to lean over, and she engaged the man in a whispered conversation for a few minutes. Percy just leaned back in his chair, crinkling the bag of chips up and throwing it into a waste-bucket in the corner. He was content to let them have their discussion.

“My client is declining to make a statement at this time,” She said simply, but Percy just brushed the comment aside, he wasn’t overly concerned.

“That’s fine,” he said, an easy smile on his face, “You don’t have to do any of the talking, I can do more than enough of that for the three of us.” He then reached down under his chair, and retrieved the file he’d placed there, he set the file down on the table by Rosthein, who didn’t make a move to open it.

“You know,” Percy began, idly playing with the corner of the file, “There’s a lot I love about my job, but by far my favorite, is this. It brings me back to kindergarten, you know, show and tell? So, I’m going to show you some stuff, and tell you what we know, then you can make a decision sound good?” He didn’t wait for an answer, “Great,”

Thumbing open the file, he pulled the first of a small stack of photographs from the inside, and placed it on the table, “The tollway took this as you were entering the city a little over a week ago. Which puts you in Gotham well within the range of the murder,” Placing the photo of Romanji behind the wheel of an all-black sedan, as it entered city limits, on the desk.

“The victim was murdered a few days ago Detective, not a week and a half ago. Don’t try and warp the evidence to fit your own personal narrative,” Rosthein said immediately,

Percy raised a brow, “Wasn’t referring to her,” He said simply, before grabbing a second photo from the file.

“This is the photo taken on September the 28th, at approximately One-Thirty in the morning. The girl in the photo is Silver St. Cloud, she was shot twice in the back, before she was shot once more in between the eyes, with a nine-millimeter.”

Percy tapped the photo with a finger, “We pulled a couple of partial fingerprints off of the body. They’re being run against the set of prints you gave us when you were being processed earlier yesterday morning.”

He grabbed a third photo from the stack, “This is John Dorsett, former employee of the Ganteer’s Chauffeur company. Also shot in the back with a nine-millimeter. Decomposition on the body placed the time of death at some point early last week. His car was also missing from its stall, and we have an eyewitness who says that they saw Mr. Dorsett’s car leaving his home early on the morning in question. Gets more interesting though.” Percy pointed a finger at Romanji,

“We had a couple of uniformed officers go back to the penthouse, and interview some of the staff, several of them identified you, as her ‘replacement driver,’ after Dorsett supposedly called in and quit. Interesting thing that.”

Percy said no more, and pulled the fourth photo, “This is the penthouse belonging to Grace and Alexander St. Cloud, it was broken into, and ransacked, as you can clearly see, our forensics team pulled a hair fiber from the scene, and we will be subpoenaing to have a DNA sample retrieved from Mr. Romanji,”

“We will fight that, you have presented nothing so far to link my client to either scene, you have no case for a subpoena.” Rosthein shot back,

Percy smiled genially, and raised his hands in the air, “Easy there miss Rosthein, I’m not done yet.”

He pulled a fifth photo, “This should familiar,” Percy said cheerfully, “This is a photograph of the weapon that was retrieved from you, Mr. Romanji. It’s currently in our forensics lab, being tested against the shell casings that were retrieved from the scene.” Percy’s smile widened, as he leaned forward, resting an arm on his leg and cupping his face in his hand, “It’s also being run against our database, to see if it matches any other unsolved homicides in the country. Think we’ll find anything? I bet you twenty-five to life that we do,”

Romanji didn’t respond, but Percy could tell that he was starting to get worried. Attuning his senses, Percy focused on the divinity of his powers. Reaching out with his gifts, he felt for the man’s heartbeat, focusing on the water in the man’s blood. He quickly found what he was looking for, and latched onto the increasingly erratic beat of the man’s heart. Percy could also taste and feel the sweat coming off of the man. He was getting nervous; Romanji was doing a good job of maintaining a poker face, but his body was having a much different reaction. Percy could tell that Romanji knew what was going to happen, if and when, those results came back.

He was a goner.

Leaning back, Percy grabbed a fifth photograph, and let out a laugh, “Oh man, I just love this one, I think I’ll call it, ‘Presenting to the jury: Exhibit A,’ What do you think?” He asked, tapping the photo, “That’s you, isn’t it Mr. Romanji? Traffic cams picked that picture up for us about a block away from the St. Cloud Penthouse. You in the driver’s seat, and if you look in the back there, you can see miss St. Cloud. This was taken on September 27th, at around eight in the morning, only a few hours before Miss. St. Cloud was murdered. What’s better than that you ask?” Percy said, a shit-eating grin on his face, as he cupped a hand around his ear and pretended like he was struggling to hear,

“That license plate looks familiar? Well it should, after all, that’s the license plate belonging to the since deceased John Dorsett. And I know, I know what you’re going to say,” Percy cut across the incoming disruption from Rosthein, “But we already checked with the chauffeur company. All company cars are owned and operated by the employee’s themselves, and we have already called and checked with Ganteer’s as well as any other company the St. Cloud’s have used in the past. No one by the name of Alberto Romanji has ever worked for them.”

Percy crossed his legs, and leaned further back into the chair, “So, let’s recap: We’ve got you, driving the victim, hours before she was shot, with the same caliber weapon you possess, in a car that was stolen from a man who was murdered in his home, a few days after you were seen entering the city. We have your weapon being processed, along with fingerprints and I’ll bet it won’t be hard to get a DNA sample from you to compare to what we have in the lab.”

“Still got nothing to say?” Percy laughed, and Romanji’s only retort was to glare harder. But his heart was beating faster, and he was sweating even more. Percy knew that he almost had the bastard exactly where they wanted him.

“That’s fine, because there’s one more thing I wanted to show you, really wraps this whole thing together.” Percy pulled the last photo from the stack, and placed it with the others. Both Romanji and Rosthein looked confused as they stared at the photograph, unsure what the importance behind it was.

“See this whole time, we were banging our heads together tried figure why the hell you would up and pop Dorsett like that. I mean, if you were trying to just kill Silver, a long-rifle on the opposite building of her school would have done the job just fine.” Percy scratched behind an ear, his smile still in place, “So why go through all the trouble of figuring out Dorsett’s schedule, killing him, and assuming his job for a week. Even then, we had a real devil of a time figuring out why the hell you’d want to kill Silver in the first place,” Percy tapped the picture,

“Then the forensics egg-heads found something real interesting about this little bracelet in the photo.” Percy leaned forward, like he was about to tell some kind of secret, “Turns out, it ain’t a bracelet at all. It’s some kind of encryption key. Think of it like a USB stick. Holds all kinds of information on it.”

Romanji’s composure finally broke, his eye’s going round, and wide as he stared at the picture. His heartbeat, which had been fast before, became a thundering piston. Hammering away in his ribcage, beating faster with every passing moment. The perspiration on the man’s face was visible, and he began breathing more heavily, as his body tried to compensate for his elevated heart-rate.

Gotcha

Looking the man, dead in the eye, Percy waved a hand, doing his best to make it appear nonchalant, when in reality, it was so much more. It was a trick he’d learned from the daughters of Venus. While he could not use their mother’s gift as they could, and couldn’t literally charm a person into doing as they said, with the right application of the mist, Percy could manipulate someone’s thoughts, feelings, and desires. He could put thoughts and ideas in their head, gently guide them to the decision that was most advantageous for him.

He didn’t like doing it, he hated abusing someone’s free will for his own benefit, but matter’s like this were something different altogether. This man had, in Percy’s mind, given up his right to free will, the moment he’d turned a gun on a defenseless fourteen-year old. The moment he’d decided that murder, for the sake of wealth, was the righteous thing for him to do. Percy held no empathy for scum like that.

Yet he still didn’t feel comfortable.

So, with a minor application of his mist-magic, Percy guided the man in the direction Percy wanted, started influencing him, and telling him that it was in Alberto Romanji’s best interest to confess. To do as Percy asked, and to help him in any way he could.

“Let’s say you somehow beat this,” Percy asked, his question seemingly coming out of nowhere, while maintaining eye contact with Romanji, “Let’s say that you somehow manage to get yourself out of the hole that you dug for yourself. How long until your boy Christian catches up with you? How long do you think you can run away from him?”

Romanji finally tore his gaze away from the picture, staring at Percy. His heart somehow beating even faster, to the point that the noise was damn near deafening, and Percy had to slam his connection shut with the man. Romanji looked beyond terrified, clearly, he had been thinking the same thing Percy had implied. Had known the implications of what it meant that the GCPD had that drive as evidence. He didn’t even seem concerned or confused as to how Percy knew of the connection, or knew that Falcone had paid him for the job.

More importantly, he knew what it meant that he’d failed miserably.

All the while, Percy continued to influence him and his emotions. Guiding the man, terrifying him further, implanting thoughts and feelings that weren’t truly his, images of the horrific things that might happen to him of Falcone found him.

Time for the kill shot

“You and I both know how men like him treat failure.”

“I’m sorry,” Rosthein butted in, speaking up for the first time in a while, “Mind explaining how that bracelet is at all relevant?”

Percy finally tore his stare away from Romanji, turning to look at the pretty lawyer, “Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you out of the loop. That right there, is the motive behind the murder of Silver St. Cloud. See, miss Rosthein, I don’t know how well you know your client, but your boy there has some serious connections. He’s in bed with the Falcone crime family, has been doing their dirty work for years. FBI’s been investigating him for a long time, him and his connections to Christian Falcone. Christian Falcone hired our boy here to kill Silver St. Cloud, and steal that little bracelet for him.”

Percy shrugged, and turned back to staring at Romanji, “It would have gone off pretty well too. You probably would have disappeared into the wind, and our investigation would have hit a dead end, except there was a small problem, Falcone clearly only knew about the drive’s existence, didn’t know what it actually looked like. Didn’t know what it really was. Otherwise, he would have told you to keep that bracelet, instead of flinging it into the garbage like last night’s dinner. Only it wasn’t a flash drive, or anything like that. Instead, it was that bracelet, a bracelet you threw away, thinking it wasn’t important. And now we have it. He’s not going to like that very much, is he, Mr. Romanji?”

Romanji didn’t answer, he looked like he was too terrified to even think at the moment, but Rosthein came to his aid,

Snorting, she looked at Percy derisively, “That’s pure speculation. You have nothing concrete linking my client to the Falcone crime family, no jury is going to believe pure here-say.”

Percy just shrugged a shoulder and smiled at Romanji. It was a different smile to his other’s though. This one was feral, the kind of wolf-like grin he’d adopted after spending so long with Lupa.

“Honestly, when we get our results back, the matter of motive will be pretty inconsequential. But say you’re right, say that the prosecution doesn’t get their conviction, I’m still not too worried about it. I might be new to the city, but I know how these kinds of families work. Silver St. Cloud will get her justice. It’s just a matter of who dispenses it.” Percy lightly drummed his fingers against his pant leg,

“Us, or him,”

““I want a deal,” Romanji announced suddenly, to the shock of his lawyer,

“Mr. Romanji-” She tried to say, but he cut her off,

“Shut the hell up!” he snarled, before turning back to Percy, “I want a damn deal,” he repeated,

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Percy managed not to smile in victory, and keep his expression neutral, “What could you possibly give me?” he asked, gesturing to the table in front of him, “I got everything I need to get a conviction right here,”

“How about Christian Falcone?” he asked, his eyes wide, “Huh, how about him? That big enough for you, asshole?”

They had enough on him, even before the ballistics came back, to get Romanji for the hits. That wasn’t why Percy was influencing him, hell, he might not have even needed to. It was clear that Falcone had already written him off, if he was no longer sending his attorney over to Romanji’s aid. But Percy was not about to take any chances on getting Falcone. Percy might have been new to Gotham, but he was well familiar with how mobs worked. He remembered vividly what had happened to those who talked, back when he was a kid in New York. They simply vanished, without a trace. Never seen again. He knew on an instinctual level, that the Falcone’s operated on the same level. If they had connections to the old families, it was a guarantee.

Percy didn’t say anything, he just sat still and waited, making sure to try and play hard ball. He needed the man to talk, to not only confess, but to also willingly give him as much as he was (un)willing and able to give.

“I can tell you that Christian Falcone hired me to steal a data drive from the St. Cloud girl, and then kill her. I can tell you that he was planning to do the same to the parents. I can also link him to at least six other murders, he hired me for, within the last two years.” Romanji rambled out quickly, the words leaving his mouth so fast, it was like they were tumbling over one another in a race to get out first.

“Before, any of that!” Rosthein cut in, finally able to get a word in, and she glared at Percy, “I want protections for my client. Immunity to prosecutions for previous crimes not directly related to the St. Cloud murders, as well as witness protection. The Falcone crime family is notorious and I will not have my client’s life be in jeopardy because the District Attorney wants to score big.”

Percy shrugged, “I’m just a detective ma’am, I can run it up the chain, but you should know by now that those kinds of demands are only something the D.A.’s office can respond to.”

Percy smirked,

“But I’ll be sure to let him know.”

BREAK

Percy clinked the side of his glass against Montoya’s, before tossing the cup back, and draining half of his beer in one, enormous pull. They were in Montoya’s favorite bar, a few blocks away from the precinct, having a celebratory drink.

A representative from the District Attorney’s office had come by shortly after Romanji’s outburst. Percy had spent the majority of the afternoon in the interview room. A written statement was prepared that Romanji signed, and he confessed into a recording device, to the murder of John Dorsett, as well as Silver St. Cloud. He then spent the next several hours confessing to every job he had ever been hired to pull for either Christian Falcone, or someone else within the crime family.

In exchange for the confession, he was granted immunity for all crimes committed prior to the Dorsett and St. Clouds. Percy hadn’t been made privy to the details, but he assumed the guy was going to get some kind of a lighter sentence as part of the deal he had struck with the District Attorney’s office. Percy was pessimistic that the man would even face jail time for what he’d done. Whatever his deal was, probably included some kind of witness protection, or something to that effect. Which, could be a prison of its own he supposed.

It wasn’t a perfect system, far from it he was honest. But the court system was overloaded, especially in a city like Gotham, and if a deal could be struck to keep someone out of maximum security, and keep the already overcrowded jails from getting worse, it would happen. Especially if the guy was going to flip on Falcone; something Percy had personally ensured would happen.

Before he had been taken away, Percy had left the manipulation in the man’s mind. Forcing it warp his thinking and cloud his judgement in a way that fit the way Percy wanted things to go. Beyond morally reprehensible as it was, Percy could semi-justify it to himself, when he thought about the bigger picture. Men like Romanji wouldn’t need to exist, if there weren’t men like Falcone running around, looking for paid killers in the first place.

The dirty feeling didn’t go away though.

So instead, Percy was going to try and bury the dirty feeling in copious amounts of alcohol, and maybe some company for the evening. That was, after he and Montoya finished celebrating their first case together.

The woman had been nothing but smiles since they’d left the precinct, a noticeable bounce in her step. Percy couldn’t blame her, in spite of the pit of disgust for what he’d done, he was also able to bask in the euphoric feeling of success. They had busted their asses all week to get this thing locked down as tightly as possible. A lot of long days, longer nights, and a shootout in a museum. They deserved the win, and they deserved to celebrate.

Montoya rubbed at her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning as she spoke, “Thought the bastard was going to piss himself!” She laughed, pounding the bar with one hand as she set her now empty glass down. Swaying slightly in her seat.

Montoya, Percy had been quick to realize, was very much a lightweight. They’d only had a couple of drinks, nothing heavy, and she already looked like she was about to fall out of her stool.

Smiling, Percy killed off the last of his glass, and reached out to steady his partner, “Easy there Monty,” he said with a chuckle,

“You know Metro,” Montoya said, after Percy had steadied her somewhat, “I’m really thankful to have you as a partner. I was pretty hesitant at first, thought you’d be some shithead, but we complement each other well. I don’t even have to worry about ya, because I can trust that you’ll do the right thing. Growing up in this cesspit, that’s not a luxury I’ve been able to afford much.”

Percy was entirely sure how to respond to that. He was touched though, beyond words. So, he settled for a smile, “Thanks Monty…I really appreciate that. And I hope you know that I feel the same. With Roger, there was some growing pains, I still didn’t know what I was doing, was overly eager and constantly trying to outdo him. He eventually beat some sense into me, and I learned to take it easy, but with you, I don’t need to worry about any of that. I know I got someone who’s more than my equal, someone I can learn from, and who can help me grow and watch my back. We’re going to do a lot of good together, you and me,”

“Damn straight!” the woman cheered, clanging her glass against Percy’s once more, despite the glass being empty.

He watched in minor amusement as she still swayed slightly and laughed happily. It was nice to see the woman unwind a little. In the time he’d known her, she’d been a little high-strung. Not that it wasn’t understandable, but Percy was glad to see she still had the ability to cut loose. He had seen too many times, people who lost that ability, and either burnt out, or got lost in the process,

“You’re not driving home, right?” Percy asked with a laugh, though he was serious. There was no way in hell he was letting her behind the wheel of a car as she was.

She waved off his concern, “Nah, Kate’s coming to pick me up,”

Percy arched an eyebrow, “Who’s Kate?” he asked, and Montoya instantly clammed up. Somehow managing to stop swaying as she turned to place both arms on the bar, “Just a friend,” she muttered,

Well that’s a crock Percy thought to himself, but decided not to say anything. He had his suspicions, but it wasn’t his place to call her out on it. It was hard enough being a woman in the department, being a lesbian as well? Bad time.

Granted, Percy didn’t know for certain, but he thought he had her pegged correctly. He didn’t know many women to lecherously stare at other women like Montoya did, but it wasn’t his place. She’d tell him when she was ready, and he was fine with that.

Montoya gestured to the bartender for another round, in a flash, a new couple of drinks were in front of Percy and Montoya.

Laughing softly, Percy pulled the cup closer, and for a moment, the two just sat in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, the pair were just trapped in their own worlds. Montoya was texting someone on her phone, her tongue poking through her teeth as she typed, and her arms still propped up against the bar.

Percy meanwhile, just scanned the scattered contents of the bar. It was quiet, not terribly surprising since it was a Thursday, so there weren’t too many people there. A couple of day-trader types, sitting together at a table in the back, still in their suits from their day working the markets. A couple of college aged kids in the back corner, doing their absolute best to look like they belonged. Percy chuckled, and briefly considered going over there. Judging by the look of ‘em, there was no way in hell that any of them were twenty-one, but it wasn’t worth the hassle, and he wasn’t on the clock.

Tracking his eyes along the wall, he stopped. There, along the back wall, sitting in an otherwise empty booth, was a woman. Dark auburn hair shaped around a heart-shaped face, and deep blue eyes. She was attractive, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties, and her eyes bore into Percy across the bar. He stiffened, slightly unnerved by the way the she was staring at him, but his body didn’t react defensively. Between the legion, and his time in the service, Percy had learned to trust his body to tell him when danger was present, it was always right and had never failed him before. And at that moment, it was telling him nothing, other than he supposedly had an attractive young woman’s attention.

Montoya’s loud belch, drew his attention away from the woman, and he smiled as he stared at his partner, who was standing up, and pulling her coat back on. Her new glass sitting empty on the bartop.

“My ride’s here,” she said, her words only slurring slightly, as she pulled her arms through the sleeve of her coat, she made to pull out her wallet but Percy stopped,

“It’s already on my tab, Monty, don’t worry about it,” he assured her,

She beamed at him, “Capable and pays for my drinks? I think I’ll keep you around Metro,” she laughed, and Percy joined her,

“Next time’s on you Monty,” he replied cheekily, and she slugged him in the arm, before placing a palm on his shoulder,

“Good work Percy,” she said softly as she turned to go, “We did some real good work today. Romanji might get cut loose, but we’re about to reel in one of the biggest fishes in the pond, and it’s due in large part to you.”

Percy just smiled at her, reaching up and patting the hand on his shoulder, he didn’t need to say anything. She understood. With a final wave, she turned on her heel and only slightly stumbled out of the bar. Watching her leave, Percy turned back around in his stool, and wrapped his hand around his beer. Pulling the glass to his lips, he didn’t react as a body quickly took the spot Montoya had just vacated.

Percy didn’t react for a minute, curious to see what the woman would do. It was clear she wanted something, what it was, he wasn’t sure yet. He just knew that it wasn’t the kind of attention he’d been necessarily hoping for. She looked curious, not interested.

“Detective Jackson,” the woman finally said, after it became clear that Percy wasn’t going to say anything to initiate the conversation.

Percy held back a sigh, he thought he knew where this was going. More to the point, he thought he’d recognized the woman,

“Miss Vale,” Percy said, still not looking at her, instead swiveling back around in his seat, to lean back against the bar.

Percy was not in the mood for whatever conversation this woman wanted. He’d finally put a name to the face. He’d recognized her from some of the articles hanging around the Planet back in Metropolis. He also, and more notably, remembered the way in which Lois would complain about Vicki Vale from the Gotham Gazette-the owner of the Daily Planet-constantly trying to outshine Lois’ own columns.

Vicki Vale, and that was undoubtably who the auburn-haired woman at Percy’s side was, had nearly as good of a reputation as Lois did. Unfortunately for Vicki, she didn’t have the beacon for truth, justice, and the American way as her resident city superhero. Instead she was stuck with a slightly unhinged lunatic, dressed as a bat, who beat the ever-loving piss out of criminals and supervillains.

People didn’t want to read about the Bat, they much preferred the Boy Scout.

“Glad to see my reputation precedes me,” Vale responded, only for Percy to snort into his glass, thinking of a snide comment, but deciding it wouldn’t be smart for him to say anything.

It wasn’t that he actively disliked Vale, if anything she was one of the few reporter’s Percy thought he could stomach. The woman was nothing if not thorough, competent, and reliable. She had a drive that mirrored Lois’, and she was fastidious in making sure she had all the facts and as much of the story as possible before reporting anything. More impressively, at least to Percy, was the way she managed to keep whatever personal biases out of her writing. Managing to distance herself from controversial stances and opinions, while keeping her writing open enough to allow her readers to form their own opinion.

So yes, Percy had, in fact, a good deal of respect for the woman. He just didn’t want to have to deal with her at the moment.

Especially since he knew what she wanted.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Percy mused softly, Vale’s eyes not leaving his face, “It figures that if anyone would know about the new guy in town, it would be you,”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Vale said, shooting him a large smile, showing off her rows of pearly-white teeth.

Rolling his eyes, Percy still didn’t look at her, or even turn to address her properly, “What can I do for you Miss Vale? And before you try and play any games, I’m very much not in the mood for, let’s just skip the bullshit and jump into why you’ve been staring me down for the last ten minutes.”

It had been a long, emotionally exhausting, and physically draining week. He just wanted a drink, time to relax, and be allowed to maybe decompress before he had to head into the precinct in the morning. In spite of the good feelings he’d been having at getting the confession and cooperation from Romanji, Percy was not in the mood to try and shake off a reporter.

“And should I even ask how you know who I am? I’ve literally been in the city for less than a week at this point.” He asked, turning around to place his now empty glass on the bar-top. In a flash, the glass was taken and replaced. Percy took a moment to bless the fact that he could literally dilute the alcoholic content in his bloodstream if need be.

Vale tilted her head to one side, examining him curiously, “Lane told me about you,” she finally said after a moment.

That got his attention; as he finally turned to look at the woman head on.

“Lane?” He asked, incredulous,

“As in Lois, yes.” Vale said back easily, her tone dry and amused, “Sounded like she was pretty worried about you. Something going on I should know about,”

Percy had to force himself not to react to the question. Any type of over reaction on his part could be misinterpreted in a way he didn’t want. For himself or for Lois, even if there might have been some truth to it. So instead, he settled for an unamused look, the kind he’d given fresh boots on deployment.

“Sheesh,” Vale said, waving him off, “I’m just teasing you,”

“Why the hell would Lois ask you, of all people, to look for me,”

Vale crossed her arms under her chest, and glared at Percy, “Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” She demanded hotly.

Percy continued to stare at her. The silence stretched on an uncomfortably long time, before Vale relented with a huff,

“You’re as stubborn as she is, no wonder you got along,” Vale grumbled to herself, before addressing Percy properly, “Ok, so maybe Lane and I aren’t on the greatest terms, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be civil and professional with one another. Especially when she offers me an in, with the GCPD.”

“She did what?” Percy demanded hotly, getting even more annoyed by the moment.

 

“She told me that you’d act as my insider source, just like you were for her, back in Metropolis.” She answered sweetly, a honey suckle smile on her cherry lips.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Percy denied vehemently.

Truthfully, he knew exactly what she was talking about. It had happened back when he was still a junior, he’d gotten in over his head with Lois and Jimmy, after they’d gotten themselves out of the mess they’d made, they came to an…arrangement of sorts. People like Lois could often get to places and people that a cop couldn’t. Simply being who she was, opened doors and got connections that Percy would never have. In exchange for helping Percy out on occasion, he would act as the insider of the MCPD, and give first-hand information to Lois and Jimmy on any big cases he ended up on.

“Look, Percy,” Vale said, straightening in her seat, her sharp gaze softening somewhat, “I’m doing this, yes, because I want someone inside GCPD to feed me stories. From what Lois told me, you’re a trouble magnet, and I’m sure if I stick around you, I’ll be elbow deep in it. But…that’s not everything.” She looked marginally uncomfortable, and she shifted slightly in her seat,

“I’ve rarely heard Lois sound worried like she was, but she told me what happened to your last partner, why you transferred, she really just wants you to have someone you can rely on in the city, someone she trusts to look out for you. Gotham isn’t Metropolis, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed, things happen here. I heard about your little shootout at Wayne’s auction. That happens, frighteningly regularly here. You’re going to need friends in this town if you want to survive a month.”

Percy frowned at that, his chest clenching rather painfully at the thought of Lois being worried about him. But he squelched the feeling like he’d done so many times, with little effort.

“And why should I trust you?” He asked,

She shrugged, “Because Lois does. I know we have a…history,” Percy snorted, which Vale ignored, “But we still respect one another. She told me you worked your ass off, that you were really one of the good ones. Something Gotham desperately needs. People in this city need people to look up to, who don’t hide behind a mask. I think we could be those people.”

Then she smirked, “Besides, you’re a meal ticket I sure as hell wouldn’t want to waste. Not even in Gotham a full week and you help take down the Royal Flush Gang and solve the homicide of the daughter of some of the most influential people in the city.”

Percy froze, then sighed, “I shouldn’t even be surprised that somehow you know about that, should I?”

She gave him a wicked smile,

“You really shouldn’t be,” she said, before extending a hand out, “So, what do you say? Partners?”
Before Percy could even think about responding, however, the earth itself began to shake. There was a loud crash from somewhere outside the building, as screams began to tear through the air outside. It sounded as though the earth itself was being torn open.

Percy acted on instinct, rising form the chair, making sure to throw down a wad of cash on the countertop as he did so, and charging out of the building. The sun was just starting to set, the orange glow of the fading light reflecting off the glass monoliths of the city’s skyline. It would have been a beautiful sight, had it not been for the Armageddon taking place.

The earth itself, had indeed, opened up. Everywhere Percy looked, there were enormous holes in the earth. Craters and crevices in the concrete, and paved sidewalks. But that wasn’t the most terrifying sight. Shooting up, high into the clouds and the skyline, were enormous vines, and plant-like creatures. They were dark green, and covered in red thorns.

And they seemed like they were alive.

The plants moved, writhed, and undulated. There was a creaking of metal beams, and the sounds of steel bars bending and breaking, and Percy watched in mounting horror, as the windows of a nearby building exploded, showering the street in glass, as another of the plant-like monsters rose from within. A few moments later, there was another screech of groaning metal, as the building itself collapsed around the plant. Dust, debris, and particulates exploded into the streets, and Percy had to raise a hand to his face, to cover his mouth from the rising dust storm.

“What the hell…” Came a trembling voice from beside him. Turning, Percy saw that Vicki Vale had followed him out of the bar, and was watching in mounting horror, as the city itself seemed to begin collapsing in on itself.

Percy grimaced, pulling his personal sidearms from the holster on his back. Quickly, he pulled the magazine from the holster as well, and slammed it into the weapon, before racking the slide, and loading a bullet into the chamber.

“Does Gotham have a bunker system like Metropolis?” Percy asked quickly,

Vale shook herself from her shock, turning to look at him, her eyes wide and scared, “N-no, we’ve seen some bad stuff over the years but nothing like this,”

Percy grimaced, he needed to get to work, he could screams coming from a nearby building, and he could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, likely dispatch calling to relay orders, turning quickly back to Vale he issued his orders,

“I don’t think anywhere will be truly safe, but head back inside the bar, and get the inhabitants to hunker down, get low, and under cover if at all possible. I’ll find you when this is over,”

He didn’t get a chance to hear her response, as he took off at a dead sprint in the direction of the trapped civilians, pulling his phone out of his pocket, he raised it to his ear,

“This is Jackson, what are my orders?”

It was time for the soldier, to head back to war.

Notes:

So, here we are again, using the mist in different ways. Since we literally know next to nothing as a fandom about what it can and can’t do. Fuck it, it’s god magic, what can’t it do? Minor manipulation to receive a desired outcome, all at the expense of your own sense of morality and personal code of ethics. Percy you poor bastard. Aside from that, time to finally meet up again with the actual YJ plot!

I’ve been subtly building up to this for a while and I’m pumped that it’s finally here. I’ve always loved the idea of watching regular people endure super villain attacks. Like what are regular folks doing when Batman is beating the piss out of some dude who’s frozen half the city. What’s going on there? This story largely explores that, and the ramifications of super heroism. Next chapter is the end of the arc, and includes some of my favorite scenes and exchanges I’ve ever written.

Thanks again for all the love and support, ya’ll continue to be incredible! Stay safe, and love you all.

Love,

LilDB

Chapter 12: Ashes to Ashes

Building on forty-third and forty-second just crumbled! Another plant just burst through the ground!

Got civilians trapped under rubble near the one-oh-two!

The bridge over Gotham river just collapsed!

Getting reports of gas coming from the plants, repeat: reports of gas coming from the plants. All units, proceed with caution.

It's Joker Gas, that Bastard!

Just received a report that Batman, Shazam, and Zatara are working on eliminating the plants near Police Plaza. Black Canary spotted near the turnpike! Has anyone heard from Dr. Parker?!

Percy did his best to ignore the chatter squeaking from the radio at his hip, unless he got word of something in his area, the reports were unhelpful to him at the moment.

It was getting hard to see through the lenses on his gas mask, he had retrieved it from the trunk of his car, along with his department issue shotgun, shortly after leaving Vale at the bar. He had seen several pods from one of the plants burst, covering a group of nearby firefighters' in a noxious looking yellow-green gas. Within moments, the firefighters had collapsed to the ground, laughing uncontrollably until they started foaming at the mouth. Before long, they had been little more than twitching, lifeless husks.

There had been nothing he could do.

Theoretically, Percy didn't need the gas mask. He hadn't actually ingested the poisonous gas yet, but he found out during his time overseas, that he could filter most toxins and poisons out of his body. Still, he needed to keep up appearances, with Batman already knowing about his abilities, he couldn't risk anyone else finding out what he was.

There was an explosion a few hundred yards from where he was running, as the underground pipes of a nearby gas station ignited, and the entire building blew. Over the roar of the flames, and the blaring sirens of nearby patrol units, Percy was able to make out the sounds of screams coming from near the building.

Changing his trajectory, Percy took off as fast as his legs could carry him, in the direction of the inferno. He momentarily considered the ramifications of charging into the inferno, but ultimately decided against it. It wasn't that he was afraid of the fire, after an encounter with a Wyrm in his youth he had discovered that he was largely immune to fire. Still, he would need to move quick, it would look strange if he came out unscathed from running directly into a wall of literal fire.

Vaulting over the flaming hood of a parked car, Percy followed the sounds of the screaming, and charged blindly into the burning gas station. Flames licked at the sides of his clothing, and at the soles of his shoes, but he ignored it, kicking the door of the building in, and running into the blazing store.

"GCPD," He announced, "Is there anyone in here?"

"Over here, help!" Someone called from over by the counter. Percy fought his way through the fire, and the collapsed shelves of snacks and other gas station merchandise. What had once been the check-out counter, was a charred pile of rubble, and Percy could make out through the smoke, the small form of someone desperately clawing at debris. It was a young man, his clothing coated in soot, and charred from the flames. Skidding to a stop, Percy knelt down next to the man, placing his shotgun on the ground next to him, and began clawing through rubble at twice the speed as the man beside him.

Within moments, Percy had successfully dug through the debris, and saw the blue fabric of a shirt. Grabbing a fistful, Percy pulled, successfully yanking out the small body of the little girl trapped under the rubble.

"You're ok sweetheart, I got you," Percy said softly, yanking his mask of, and securing it around the girl's head. With as much smoke in the air as there was, he didn't want to risk the girl inhaling too much of the noxious fumes, it would be incredibly more hazardous to her developing body than to Percy's.

"She yours?" He asked to the man beside him, who nodded, and all but yanked the little girl out of Percy's arms. The flames were becoming even hotter, so without asking for permission, Percy gripped the man, cradling what Percy imagined was his daughter in his arms, and Percy all but dragged the pair out of the burning wreckage of the building, making sure to grab his shotgun as he did so.

The threesome stumbled through the flames of the ruined station lot, before finally making it clear to the other side of the street that was, blessedly, not on fire.

"GCPD has a safe-zone a block north, head there now!" Percy shouted, already peeling away from the startled civilians.

"Wait!" Came a squeaky voice from behind him, and Percy turned in time to see the little girl, with some help from her father, pulled the gas mask free of her tiny face, and held it out to Percy.

With a smile, Percy nodded his face, before grabbing the mask, and placing it back on his head, fighting back a grimace as he did so.

I really hate pretending to be mortal sometimes

His radio chirped to life at his hip, "Any units in the vicinity of Finger and Moore, we are receiving reports of plants in the area, civilians trapped,"

"Unit Forty-Six, en-route," Percy immediately responded to the hail, as he made a sharp left at the next intersection.

How the hell could this happen again. Another goddamn Metropolis. Another city destroyed. And for what?

He swallowed the bile that threatened to build up in his stomach, he didn't have the time to be righteously angry. Not with the world burning around him, and not with so many innocents still getting caught in the crossfire.

Making another turn, he had to duck, as a large vine, belonging to one of the plant creatures, lashed out in his direction. Sliding underneath the incoming vine, Percy brought his weapon to bear, aimed, and fired. The buck of the weapon impacting his shoulder with a dull thud. Green goo, and plant viscera exploded from where the buckshot impacted. There was a loud whining and keening, that seemed as though it came from the plant itself. Percy paid it no mind, however, and fired off another three rounds in rapid succession, effectively tearing the vine and plant in half.

Things would have been considerably easier if he was comfortable using his powers. Usually, the power of the mist would shroud the abilities of demigods, but that was only when his kind were battling monsters or others of his ilk. The mist, even with proper manipulation on Percy's part, might not have been able to fully protect him from scrutiny.

Especially not in the digital age where everyone had a cellphone with a built-in camera. All it would take was one person, seeing the wrong thing and uploading it on the internet, and everything Percy had so carefully crafted would come crashing down around him.

There was also the matter that Percy detested using his powers. Detested what they represented, and worse still, detested what they reminded him of.

He could handle the minor things, following blood trails, listening to heart-rates, and identifying targets by feeling and seeing masses of water. But shaping that water? Utilizing the powers, he had been born with in a combative fashion? He detested it. After the war, after his greatest failure, he had promised himself not to resort to those powers, unless absolutely necessary. It was partially for his own safety. Percy's abilities were far from subtle. They were powerful, and uncontrollable, much like the sea itself. But more to the point, they were visually impressive. It was hard to hide when someone summoned several hundred gallons of water, or was causing earthquakes or storms with their mind itself.

But Percy was also being selfish. He was being prideful. And most of all, he was being respectful. Respectful to those he had failed, to those his powers and great strength had killed. He had vowed to never use those abilities to take a life. Not directly. Not after what he'd done.

He wouldn't be the man he had been before. He couldn't be.

He just wanted to be normal. Desperately so.

The wriggling mass of vines and earth-matter was of no consequence after Percy had blown it to high hell, and so he focused on where he thought the civilians would be trapped. It wasn't hard to figure out where the call had originated from. One of the office buildings on the street had been next to where a plant had emerged. Half of the street facing wall had been torn away; the innards of the office building spilling out onto the streets below. The other half, had caved into the building next to it, threatening to pull that structure down with it.

Nearby, a fire crew was attempting to put out the flaming husk of a grocery store, before it threatened to engulf the entire street. They were too focused on the flames to be of any help to those still trapped in the other building. So Percy ran as hard as he could in the direction of the collapsed offices. A patrol office materializing from nowhere and pulling alongside him.

Brown hair, and black eyes; the officer was on the taller side, just around six foot, and not overly proportioned, cut more like a gymnast than like Percy.

"O-officer Jack Drake sir, I, um, got the same call about the office building," he said, his breath coming out in shallow pants as he tried to keep up with Percy's blistering pace. He also sounded scared to death, his voice almost whimpering part of his introduction.

Get it together man, people need you right now Percy thought, a little disparagingly,

Percy only nodded, his attention still focused on the building,

"Any idea what the hell is going on?" Percy shouted, vaulting over a barricade, Officer Drake following suite,

"Some group of villains calling themselves, 'The Injustice League,' sir," Drake responded, "This, um, looks like Ivy's work, and I-I've been hearing over the radio that the damn c-clown's personal gas is involved too."

Percy couldn't quite contain the growl that reverberated through his chest.

Again, the rise of the contemporary hero, and the destruction that follows in their wake.

Percy shook his head of the thoughts,

"Sweep the lower floors, get anyone out that you can. When you're done, get that fire crew over here asap. No telling if or when this building might be going down," Percy ordered.

The man simply nodded his head before complying. As they entered the apartment building, Officer Drake veered off to the right, heading down a collapsed hallway, and banging on doors and making announcements to any potential survivors.

Percy, however, took to the stairs,

Taking the steps three at a time, Percy rounded the first landing, and charged down the shattered and crumbling hallway. He had to dodge out of the way, and hug the far wall, as a piece of the floor above suddenly fell through, falling directly where Percy had been standing moments before.

Not bothering to stop, or even slow down, Percy focused what little of his birthright he was willing to use, and focused on searching for the familiar bodies of water, that made up the blood of human beings. He locked in on a shape, trapped in the remnants of an office at the end of the hall. He could also see two more bodies in the building on the same floor, on the other side of the hall, and three bodies on the floor above,

He burst into the room, hopping over falling desks, chairs, and cubicles, calling out as he did so, "This detective Percy Jackson of the GCPD, is there anyone still alive in here!" His sweat, and the moisture of his body was starting to fog up the lens of his mask, instead of willing the fog away, Percy simply tore the offending structure from his face. If he really needed it, he'd use it.

"H-help me, help me please, I-I-I'm stuck!" Cried a feminine voice, and minor relief flooded through Percy. As useful as his abilities were, he hadn't been so certain that the person had been alive. Jumping over the final desk, Percy found the young woman, her leg caught under part of the ceiling as it had caved in around her. The block of ceiling was almost certainly too heavy for a normal person to lift.

Percy only hesitated for half a second, before deciding it was worth the potential risk, the lives of others was always worth it.

Getting down on one knee, Percy gripped the underside of the slab, and made as much of a show as he possibly could of hefting the block with all his might. In reality, to a man with his enhanced strengths, the block was no heavier than the weight bar, but he still needed to put the effort in to make it look like an extraneous task.

Lifting the block just enough so that the woman could free her leg, Percy let the block fall, before crouching down next to the woman,

"Can you stand?" he asked, doing his best to portray a calm and confident appearance. In these types of stressful environments, civilians needed reassurance, as much as they often needed help.

The woman, a pretty dark-haired woman in her early thirties shook her head, "I-I don't think so, I t-think it m-might be b-b-broken," her voice cracked in pain and fear as she spoke,

"Do I have your permission to lift you up," Percy asked, and the woman quickly nodded her head. Reaching under her, taking care not to jostle the leg too much, Percy hefted the woman into a soft carry, and turned and made his way as quickly and gently out of the building as he could.

Once outside the building, Percy was pleased to see that a contingent of firefighters, as well as a fresh ambulance and team of paramedics had arrived at the scene. The building the firefighters had been combatting was mostly put out, so there were a large number of available bodies to assist in clearing the building.

Percy wasted no time in depositing the woman on a gurney, brought his way by an approaching pair of paramedics. As he dropped off the woman, Drake, and a pair of teenage boys, and a man in his late fifties jogged out of the building, none looking worse for wear, but Drake's face was still holding an undercurrent of fear and disbelief at the situation he'd found himself.

Percy turned to a pair of firefighters' who were jogging up to him, their faces red, and sweat glistening on their cheeks and foreheads,

"Two more trapped on the second floor, on the east side, three on the floor above. One on the eastern wall, and two on the west." Percy relayed as fast as possible. The crew members nodded their thanks, before splintering off to head into the building.

Percy's radio crackled to life once more,

"Call for a 10-15 near the bodega. Potential 10-17 in the garment district. Reports indicate armed and potentially dangerous; any available units please respond."

Percy brought the radio at his hip to his lips, "Unit Forty-Six, firefighters, clearing the building on Finger and Moore. Officer's Jackson and Drake en-route to the Garment District to respond to possible 10-17."

"Unit Forty-Six, acknowledged."

Turning to the now shaking Drake, Percy asked, "You loaded Officer?"

"W-what?" Drake asked, looking petrified at the thought of live fire being exchanged,

Percy growled, but tried to reign in his temper, "Load your side-arm Officer, we're taking that call." Before the man could think to muster a response, Percy had turned, and was running toward the Garment District, less than half a block away. Reaching into his pocket, Percy relieved several more shell casings, and racked them into his rifle.

Never underestimate the greed of humanity to take advantage of a terrible situation.

---

Nothing like the end of the world to sober you up Montoya thought sardonically. Reaching her arms out, she grabbed the small child from the crew member, as he hefted her out of the building. Hefting the little boy into her arms, she then turned, and deposited the crying child into the arms of a local paramedic.

It had been like this for what felt like hours. One crisis fixed, only for twelve more to pop up simultaneously. It didn't help that it seemed like no matter how many of the plants that were killed, even more emerged to fix the gap. Even with the combined efforts of Batman, Shazam, Black Canary and Zatara, there seemed to be no end in sight for the plants that Montoya knew, had to belong to Ivy.

But that wasn't the most disconcerting thing about their situation. She had been in her apartment, with Kate, for the television announcement. Had seen the heavy hitters calling themselves the 'Injustice League' the foil to the defenders of the planet. The antithesis to everything the Justice League stood for.

It was unprecedented. Sure, there had been times in which villains had teamed up. Penguin and Freeze. Ivy and Quinn. Moth and Firefly. But they never ran in groups of more than two, never teamed up like these psychopaths seemed to be doing. It was a nightmare scenario. The idea that supervillains, people who went toe to toe with the most powerful people on the planet, teaming up to spread as much death, destruction, and mayhem as humanly possible.

And all for only a couple hundred million dollars? That didn't sit right with Montoya. There was something else happening there. But that wasn't her concern at the moment. Her concern was trying to stop as much of the bleeding to her city as possible. To put out as many fires, stop as many plants, and rescue as many civilians as she possibly could, and hope and pray that the Justice League would be able to stop whatever was going on.

However she couldn't just leave it at that. No, something was nagging at her, gnawing at her subconscious; a torrent of thoughts and emotions begging to be unleashed.

Maybe Metro had a point?

Nobody was a bigger believer in heroes that Montoya. Nobody championed the righteous cause of people like Batman like she did. She remembered the days before the bat. Remembered being too scared to leave her home alone, even in the middle of the day. The bodies, the disappearances ,the rampant corruption.

Then the Bat appeared, and then the others. All of sudden, those who had the power to cause fear, and terror, who had been in control; the system they had so carefully structured to maintain their individual monopolies on power and wealth began to crumble away. Citizens in Gotham had hope; hope that they would be safe, hope that there was an end to the terror, the crime and the brutality.

Unless they'd grown up in Gotham, other people just couldn't possibly understand.

And then the Justice League had formed. Humanity, the entire world, had protectors and care-givers. People with the power, and sense of responsibility to use their greater powers and abilities to help people, had joined together to do everything they could to protect the citizens of their planet from all forms of terror. Both on their little green marble, and off.

For a while, it had seemed like things might have been changing.

But had it?

Had anything really changed?

Things had been bad before, mobsters, gangbangers, and terrifyingly power criminals had run Gotham, but they were at least human. They could be shot. They could bleed. And they couldn't level entire cities with a single thought.

Not like what was happening in Gotham. Not like what was happening in cities across the world at that very moment.

Did Metro have a point?

Was it truly an endless cycle of continually escalating violence? When did it end? Would it ever end?

Before superheroes, the kind of catastrophe of the plants attacking the city had been mere fantasy. Something that only happened in movies, tv, or cheesy comic books. It sure as hell wasn't something that was supposed to happen in real life.

And yet here she was, standing in the street, and watching as Shazam streaked through the sky, one of the large plants held firmly in his grasp, as he punted the mass of flora out of earth's damn gravitational field and into who only knew where.

This was only the beginning. Criminals were teaming up, they were getting smarter, more clever. More dangerous, and why? Because heroes had been doing the same thing. Because they were sick of losing. And that meant that they'd hurt, and slaughter, as many people as possible, to win the game.

She finally understood what Metro had been trying to say to her. Had finally understood the haunted, angry, and defeated look in his eyes, as he had relived the armageddon that had been the attack on Metropolis only a few short months before.

Montoya had seen footage of the attack, had watched as an entire city had been reduced to rubble, because of the squabble of a pair of beings, who were closer to god's than men. It hadn't registered with her, not fully, the sheer scale of the destruction, and the danger, that beings like that created, simply by existing.

Montoya's head throbbed, whether it was from the philosophical meltdown she was in the process of having, or she was unfortunate enough to be having a hangover mid-catastrophe; it didn't seem to matter all that much.

"Montoya!" A familiar, baritone voice called out, pulling the woman away from her raging thoughts. Turning, she watched as the familiar form of Harvey Bullock, lumbered toward her. She'd never been one for mystery novels, even as a child, but she was familiar enough with tropes to recognize that Senior Detective Harvey Bullock was as cliche a detective as they came. Aging, in his late forties, with dark raggedy black hair that fell like curtains around his light blue eyes, and the protruding gut of a man who'd given up on exercise in favor of sweets. He was a bitter, spiteful man, but he was a good cop, and had been Montoya's own partner for some time.

He jogged over to her, his breaths coming in heaving gasps. For once, the grouchy old bat was covered in something other than his own lunch. The trilby on his head was slouching on the crown of his head, barely covering the sweat-coated mop of hair underneath. His pale yellow dress shirt was stained dark, with a combination of what looked like sweat, soot, and possibly blood.

It was the first time Montoya had really seen the man look his rank.

"It's damn good to see ya in one piece Renee," He said, sidling up to her, and reaching a hand out for her to shake. Montoya took the man's larger hand in her own, trying not to grimace at the cold, sweaty, grip.

"Good to see you too Harv, hell of a day," Montoya said back, retrieving her hand, and surreptitiously wiping it off on her vest.

Bullock snorted, "That's one word for it," He crowed, his thick Massachusetts accent petering into his voice, "More like, the whole damn world is coming down on top of of us again. Another one of them freaks shows, only the time, theres a whole damn group of em!" He huffed, and placed his hand on his belt, "Told ya," He said, wagging a finger in her direction, "I told ya that those freaks in the tights would bring us nothing but trouble, but did you listen to me, no, of course no-"

Bullocks speech was cut off, as suddenly the radio on both of their hips squawked to life, and Percy's familiar voice, flooded the broadband network.

"This is Unit Forty-Six, Code-2, Code-2"

"Code-2 Acknowledged, All unit's Code-1, Unit forty-six, what is your situation,"

"10-78 at the Garment District. Facing heavily armed resistance. 10-17 was false, repeat, not a 10-17, these are not looters. Armed men, with assault weaponry at the Garment District, requesting additional units now!" The pronouncement was followed by another spurt of high-velocity ammunition tearing through the radio. There was a gasp, and then a startled cry of pain.

"10-999! 10-999! Officer down, repeat officer down on Dini and Englehart," There was the sound of a large caliber weapon being discharged several times.

"Unit Forty-Six Standby,"

The radio was silent for a moment, "Unit Forty-Six, all additional units are unable to comply,"

"10-9 Dispatch?"

"I say again, no additional units are able to respond, all units are currently-"

"Unit Forty-Four to Dispatch, 10-4 on Unit Forty-Six's 10-999. En-route to last known." Montoya cut in. She had begun moving toward her squad car the second Percy had called for the 10-78, also known as an officer assistance hail. She had re-doubled her run when the triple nine was called in, shouting a pair of paramedics to follow her in to help out the beleaguered officers.

She had all but thrown herself behind the wheel of her vehicle, all traces of intoxication having left her in the wake of the sheer panic flooding her system. She was worried about Percy to be sure. She liked the man, they pair of them got along well, and he was challenging, in a good way, her own thoughts and beliefs. But she didn't know him well enough to be as scared as she was about his being in danger.

No, Montoya was scared of failing again. Of failing another partner. She was terrified by the idea that she might lose one more person, whose back she was charged with protecting. She wouldn't let that happen. Not again, never again.

She flicked on the emergency lights, leaving the siren off for the moment, and had been about to peel out into the street, when the passenger door opened, and Bullock's large bulk squeezed into the passenger seat.

"Brother's in trouble, I ain't about to let one of our own go out like that." He said simply, and Montoya couldn't repress the smile on her face.

Bitter old crone that he was, Bullock was nothing if not loyal.

Without another word, Montoya peeled away from the building she'd been evacuating, and began making her way eastward towards the Garment District.

They maneuvered their way through the battered city. Doing their best to evade other emergency personnel and fleeing and panicking citizens.

"Look out!" Bullock cried suddenly, as they turned onto a street that ran parallel to the Garment District.

Montoya swore, and jerked the wheel violently, as the blonde-haired form of Black Canary streaked through air, as she was smacked violently by the extending vine of one of the larger plants. She watched in muted awe, as the woman recovered into a back handspring, landing on the hood of a nearby truck, before launching a supersonic cry into the plant directly in the path of Montoya's cruiser.

The sound-based attack tore into the plant. Shredding, and battering the plant, which tore apart, a keening cry of pain and agony escaping from the dying monstrosity. Montoya didn't have time to waste, and floored the pedal, the engine roaring in response as she brought the wheels up to the curb to get around the remnants of the plant.

"This shit needs to stay in Metropolis where it belongs," Bullock grumbled under his breath, one hand gripping onto the passenger handle over the door, the other clutching his old service revolver like a lifeline.

Rounding the final corner, she saw the carnage of the Garment District. It looked far less like the fashion capital of the city, and much more like an active war-zone. Brunt out and overturned vehicles littered the street, windows to shops were cracked, or outright destroyed. On the far end of the district, Montoya could see the smoke, and small skirts of flames, coming out of several storefronts. Streetlights were toppled, waste bins strewn aside, and the massive, shriveled husks of once alive monster plants, were scattered around the roadside.

On one side of the street, Montoya saw several masked men, wielding heavy assault weaponry, and wearing clown-masks, firing from behind overturned cars, and from the inside of buildings. They were firing at a separate store, on the opposite side of the street. She watched, still running, as the dark hair of Percy poked out from the side of one of the buildings, shotgun raised, and firing several slugs in quick succession at the opposing force. Someone yelled, and collapsed to the ground in a heap, and Percy ducked back behind cover, just as another volley of fire tore into where he had been moments before.

"God dammit, what are they doing here, thought we got the rest of them locked up in Blackgate after last time," Bullock said, his eyes narrowing.

He was referring to the men in the clown masks.

Joker's personal henchmen. The devout, almost fanatical followers of the clown prince of crime. Terrors that were nearly every bit as psychotically unhinged as the clown himself. They were extremely violent, and somehow even more disciplined. Bullock was right though, a raid several months had supposedly captured the remnants of the clown's personal gang, locked up in of the Joker's old hideaways on Amusement Mile. Apparently, they hadn't gotten all of them.

She didn't know if the Joker had ordered his men to attack during the plant invasion, or they were simply taking advantage of the chaos already in place to cause more violence and bloodshed, but it was a moot point at the moment. The priority was getting Metro the backup he desperately needed, and getting medical assistance to the wounded officer.

They were lucky, the clowns hadn't noticed them as they pulled up into the intersection, too concerned with their ongoing assault on Percy's less than fortified position in a neighboring storefront. Hopping out of the cruiser, Montoya ran to the trunk, and opened it, pulling out the standard issue Assault Rifle, that most Gotham Detectives carried locked in their trunks. While many departments were trying to move away from such military armaments, the GCPD had no such luck. The types of violent crimes that were all too common in the city made having heavy weaponry a necessity.

Pulling the weapon free, Montoya slipped several additional magazines into her coat and pants pockets, before slamming a fresh clip into her rifle.

Pulling her radio from her side, Montoya spoke into the mic, "Unit Forty-Four to Unit Forty-Six, Secure Channel Seven," She said, before switching her radio to the new channel, there was a burst of static, before the sound of live rounds impacting a nearby wall, came over the speaker,

"Seven secure, Forty-Four, send it." came Percy's voice, calm as though he were discussing the weather. Montoya bit back a grin, leave it to Metro to stay as calm as a cucumber in the shit like he was.

"Got your 20 in the storefront. Officer Bullock and I will flank and engage at range. What's the status on the triple 9?"

"Check. Officer is stable but needs immediate evac."

"Copy, you already announce?"

"Yes, but it couldn't hurt do it a second time, put on a body cam earlier. On your call or mine?"

"Yours"

"10-4"

Montoya cleared the channel before exchanging a look with Bullock, who nodded grimly, before hunkering down, and taking off at a crouched run down the other end of the street, in order to flank around the firing clowns.

Montoya ducked down, getting into a combat crouch, before moving into her own position, taking cover behind a burnt-out and overturned semi-truck. Peeking around the corner, she watched and waited for Bullock to get into position. Less than thirty seconds passed, before she saw the brief flash of his light, indicating he was ready and in position.

For a moment, nothing happened, and then Percy's loud, deed voice tore through the mayhem.

"GCPD, this is your last warning, lay down your arms and surrender yourselves into custody or we will be forced to open fire!"

A spray of automatic fire in Percy's direction was all the answer the Montoya needed.

Raising her rifle, Montoya sighted a target, the clown nearest to her own position, firing what looked like a modified pistol, augmented to fire fully automatic rounds, into Percy's position. Montoya steadied her breathing, before compressing the trigger. There was a single bark from the rifle, and a light kick into her shoulder, as the weapon recoiled. The head of the man she'd been aiming at, exploded in a violent rush of blood, brain, and viscera, as his life was extinguished.

As soon as her file fired, there was a similar bark, though substantially higher in pitch, coming from Bullock's position, as another clown fell to the street. Of the seven clowns that had been firing at Percy's position, there were only five left. Three of the five turned, two in the direction of Montoya, and one towards Bullock, as they stared in confusion at the lifeless bodies of their former comrades.

Apparently, Percy was not one to waste an opportunity. The loud and low bark of a shotgun shook the air, as two more men fell in rapid succession. One screamed, as his arm was violently shredded off of his body. The other's chest erupted, as the slug of Percy's shotgun tore through the body armor, he had been wearing like it was tissue paper, and blowing a hole out of the man's back.

Montoya took the opportunity to advance, calling out as she did so, "This is the GCPD, lower your weapons, and get down on the ground now! This will be your only warning!"

She got her response to her announcement, in the form of a wall of bullets. Montoya threw herself down on the ground, pressing flat against the surface of the street, just as a wall of gunfire ripped through the air where she had been standing a moment ago. She knew she couldn't maintain that position, without getting torn to pieces, so she rolled, positioning herself under the axels of another abandoned vehicle. Crawling forward so she was even with the front tires, she raised her rifle again, sighting one of the clowns, as it approached, assault rifle raised, he previous position.

Depressing the trigger two more times, a pair of rounds impacted the advancing man in the chest, the 5.56 ap ammunition tearing through the makeshift armor as though it weren't even there. The man stumbled, as though he wasn't sure what had happened, before his rifle dropped from his hands, and he collapsed face first on the cement.

The firing picked up once again, this time, coming across as frantic, and panicked. She was in the process of pulling herself free of the vehicle she'd been using for cover when she saw Percy attack. Leaping over the concrete divider that kept pedestrians from the typically busy street, Percy tackled on of the remaining men, the pair colliding into the cement in a heap.

There was the tell-tale crackle of a taser jumping to life, and a squeak of surprise and pain, as Percy jammed the taser into the ribcage of one of their attackers. Percy then turned on his heel, ducking as the final man tried to bring his rifle to bear on Percy's chest. Percy gripped the rifle around the barrel, and yanked it towards, and away from him, pulling the attacker along with it. The strength and speed of the sudden move, caused the clown to stumble, as the rifle was ripped from his grasp. Percy, faster than she'd seen someone move, then pivoted, putting himself behind the attacker. Reaching out, Percy wrapped both of his arms around the man's midsection, and wrapped his right leg around the clown's own right leg. In one fluid motion, Percy threw the clown to the ground, and rolled so that he was on top of him. Yanking the man's arms behind his back and neatly and quickly securing them in a pair of restraints.

Panting lightly, Montoya dug herself out from under the vehicle, and began a slow trek over to Percy, her weapon raised, and scanning her surroundings. Just because it appeared as though the remainder of the clowns had been taken down; it didn't mean that there weren't more potentially waiting somewhere in the wings.

Seeing no one, and not getting fired upon, Montoya cleared her sights, and lowered her weapon, coming to a rest as Percy finished restraining the clown, he'd tasered.

"Learn that one in the service?" She asked nonchalantly, as Percy stood up over the body of the groaning clown,

"Summer camp, actually," Percy shot back, a cheeky smile on his face, before gesturing to her to follow.

As she looked at his back, and trailed behind the larger man, a weight seemed to disappear off of her shoulders, that she hadn't even realized had been there. Hearing Percy's call for assistance, had damn near frozen her. Her thoughts consumed by the images of arriving too late, again, and finding another partner in a pool of his own blood.

Another failure.

Her failure.

She released a shuddering breath, and tried to push the images form her mind. Her partner was ok, for the moment, and they needed to focus on the securing their wounded comrade. The pair clambered over the threshold of a small barricade Percy had erected for himself, Bullock joining them in their approach, and introducing himself to Percy as he did so.

The man was pale, and shivering, a hand gripping a makeshift bandage on his left shoulder, whimpering slightly as the trio approached.

"Got the bleeding to stop," Percy muttered, "But I think he's in shock. Completely unresponsive. I think he might be having a full breakdown. Kept muttering about leaving the force, going into architecture or something like that. I don't know, but we need to get him out of here."

Montoya nodded her head ruefully. It was a painfully common occurrence in Gotham. The types of nightmares that were faced on a daily basis, the types of psychotic criminals running around. Full mental breaks were far from uncommon.

As Percy hefted the quivering man into a carry, and the three moved through the wreckage of the street, Montoya sighed.

It was going to be a very long night.

---

Percy did his best to stifle the yawn that threatened to split his face. It had been a long time since he'd felt as exhausted as he did. The plant's started disappearing shortly after he, Montoya, and Bullocks altercation with the clowns. The League, apparently, had finally managed to figure out what was going on, and managed to put a stop to it. But, just because the plants had stopped rising, didn't mean that his night had been over by any means.

Percy and Montoya had spent an additional six hours, running around the city. From looters, actual looters that time, to trapped civilians, to any number of odd crises. The sun had been well risen, by the time they were called in.

However, what was concerning and confusing, was that Montoya and Percy hadn't been called back into their precinct. But rather, to One-Police-Plaza. Percy initially assumed that maybe it had something to do with the fight with the clowns. Maybe they were about to go on suspension, pending an internal inquiry into whether their actions had been justified. That made the most sense to him, but it still didn't explain why they were being pulled all the way downtown for the inquiry.

The types of internal investigations were never discussed downtown, always in the precinct of the officer's in question. It sure as hell never happened in the office of the Commissioner.

It was odd, in the several years Percy had been with the Metropolis Police, he had met Commissioner Corporon only twice, and here was, seeing Commissioner Gordon for the umpteenth time in as many days.

It was Montoya's turn to yawn, not even bothering to cover her mouth as they stepped into the elevator that would take them to the higher levels.

"Don't do that shit," Percy said, covering his mouth with his coffee cup, "For the love of god, I need a nap."

"Sorry partner," Montoya said, her eyes dropping slightly, as she took an enormous pull from her own to-go cup. The two of them were on their fifth cups in as many hours.

It had been that kind of a shift.

"Hear about Drake?" Montoya asked, Percy arched a brow,

"No, what happened, he ok?" He asked. The man had been a bit keyed up during the fight, but Percy couldn't blame him for that. His first real combat had nearly frozen him in place. Granted he had been four at the time, but mortals couldn't be held to the same standard.

Montoya snorted, "He's fine. Shoulder is kind of fucked up I guess, but he'll recover. No, but he quit. Guess his dad is some kind of bigshot in the archeological world. He's taking over for his old man."

"Huh, good for him, I guess," Percy shrugged, he was far from surprised, the man had looked shell-shocked when he met up with Percy. Some people just weren't made for the fight he supposed.

The elevator slowed to a halt, and dinged, before the doors opened, and the pair stepped into the hall they had vacated in such a hurry the night before. Arriving in front of the door to the office, Montoya reached out a hand, and rapped hard on the wood paneling three times. There was an immediate response,

"Enter," Came Gordon's gravelly voice, sounding even more hoarse than the last time Percy had heard him. Opening the door, Montoya led the way into the office, Percy following, and shutting the door behind him.

Striding up to the desk, Percy took a stance beside Montoya, and waited, as Gordon finished typing something into the monitor on his desk. Looking up at the pair of them Gordon grimaced,

"You two look about as bad as I feel," He grumbled, "Sorry about that. Should have realized you'd been working the full shift, what with the mountain of bullshit that was last night." Percy almost snorted. As bad as he was sure they looked, Gordon didn't look like he was faring any better. His eyes had large, dark bags under them, and his right hand held a slight tremor, that told Percy he either hadn't had the time to smoke in a while, or was so hopped up on coffee that he was getting the jitters.

"Unfortunately," Gordon grimaced again, "The bullshit gets worse."

He turned his attention away from the monitor, and stared back at them,

"Romanji is dead." He said simply, skipping the preamble.

Percy's stomach fell out of his chest.

"What?" Demanded Montoya, the look on her face of abject horror, mirroring Percy's own creeping sense of dread. "How? When? What the hell happened? Was it the plants?"

Gordon shook his head. He looked older than he ever had to Percy. As though he'd aged another twenty years, in the last twenty hours. Percy supposed that was par for the course as a Police Commissioner. Doubly so when you were the Commissioner for a city like Gotham. Gordon removed his glasses and rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

"Found him in the holding cells this morning. He was shot three times. Twice in the stomach, once in the head. Professional hit. We think it happened during the attack, someone took advantage of the mayhem to put him down, before he could turn on Falcone."

"Wait a second," Percy said, shaking his head, "Why in the hell would Falcone just off him like that? He had no way of knowing Romanji was going to flip. The number of people that were privy to that information was small, and more importantly, Falcone had bailed Romanji out before, why not this time?" Percy trailed off, as Gordon looked at him sympathetically,

"Think about it Metro, from the get-go, it looked bad for Romanji. You said it yourself in the interview. Falcone's lawyer, this Carlos guy? He never showed up, which means that Falcone was cutting him loose." She scoffed bitterly, "As to nobody knowing about it?" She shook her head, looking disgusted, so Gordon took over,

"Welcome to Gotham son, half the damn department is on Falcone's payroll, and that's especially true for your precinct. I have my suspicions, in fact, that you and Montoya might be the only ones in the damn building, not on the bastard's dime. It's my thinking that one of uniforms working for Falcone came in during the chaos. Buried Romanji, and snuck back out. Would have been able to do it too, since all the electrical in the One-Seven went down cause of the attack. Turned all the camera's off too. Would have been easy. But, unfortunately, that ain't the worst of it."

Gordon pointed out the eastern window, anger clouding his expression. Percy followed the finger out the window, and froze again. Where the forensics lab had been, less than twenty-four hours ago, was little more than a pile of ash and rubble. The pit in Percy's stomach, became a ravine, as his mouth dropped open in abject shock and muted horror,

"No." He whispered, "No, no, no, do not tell me that-"

"Gone." Gordon confirmed, "At least, we're assuming so. A damn plant came up, straight through the middle of the damned forensics lab. Parker's dead, so are two of his techs, and a third's in critical at Gotham General. Damn building fell right on top of them when that plant came up. We've got teams poking through the rubble right now, but we've lost…a lot."

Percy couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was in shock, in a matter of hours, all of the hard work, evidence, and leads, had been turned to dust. Sure, the man that had killed Silver St. Cloud was dead, but that was hardly a consolation, not with the one truly responsible for her and her family's deaths was still breathing free air. And then another terrible thought hit. How many others? How many other cases had been riding on the evidence in that building? How many bad guys were about to get away, all because of some piss poor luck?

He felt sick to his stomach, and he finally had to sit down in one of the empty chairs in front of Gordon's desk. Disbelief. Sadness. Despair. Those emotions were all waging inside of him. But something else was burning hotter, and ferociously than all the others.

Anger.

Hot. Righteous. Anger. Anger at the supers, for creating a world where shit like the night before happened with alarming regularity. Anger at the villains, for being so callous, so cruel, and so uncaring about the lives of others. For being so caught up in their war with the supers, that they didn't care how many innocents' lives were caught in the crossfire. Though for some, perhaps that was the whole point. But above all of that, Percy was angry with himself.

He'd been stubborn. He'd been prideful. If he had simply let the Bat have the damn bracelet, then they wouldn't be in this mess. Sure, they didn't know what was on the damn thing, but if Falcone wanted it bad enough to kill the St. Cloud family, then it was important.

And now it was gone.

Gone because Percy, regardless of how justified he was in his beliefs, had been too prideful, and too stubborn to hand over the bracelet. Now they would never know what was on it. And with Romanji dead, so was the case against Christian Falcone.

There was a strong hand on his shoulder, drawing Percy's attention. Looking up, he saw Montoya, looking determinedly at him.

"It's not your fault Percy," She said softly, once again using his name, to show how serious she was being.

"It is," he insisted, "If I had just-"

"Montoya's right son," Gordon cut in, "We can sit here and play 'what if' till we're blue in the face, but the fact remains that what's done is done. And nothing can be done about it. I stand by my decision and yours, not to hand over the drive. It was the right call, at that time. And it just means we'll have to find some other way to pin Falcone. Until then,"

Gordon sighed, then smiled, "You both did excellent work. I know the circumstances are…fuck it, terrible, but that is neither of your faults. The only people to blame are the villains, and Christian Falcone. You both did an extraordinary job, and exemplified what it means to be an officer of GCPD. For that, I thank you, and I will take personal care, to ensure that this case does not get reported falsely in your records. As far as I'm concerned, the matter of the murder of Silver St. Cloud, is a closed case. You did your job, and went above and beyond while doing so. I've forwarded a memo to your duty captain, you two have the rest of the day to yourselves. Consider it an apology, as well as a thank you from me. Take care of yourselves, and get back to work on Monday. I'm sure we're going to be busy."

With that, they were dismissed from the office. They were silent, as they waited for the elevator, both Percy and Montoya lost in their own thoughts, wallowing in the emptiness they were both feeling. They had closed the case, sure, but Silver St. Cloud did not get the justice she deserved. It felt hallow.

"So," Percy asked, stepping into the elevator, "What do we do now?"

"Now?" Montoya asked back, pressing the button for the lobby, "Now, we recharge."

"Then it's back to work,"

Notes:

For anyone interested, those were real police codes and signals. Most states and departments use their own variation of the ten-code system, but I decided to keep it generic here. It was fun to put together! A little cameo for those who really know you comics. Nothing major, won't really amount to anything, but I had an opportunity for a fun moment, so I took some liberties with a character and changed part of their story if you can guess who it is. Now, I'm guessing some people might not love how this ended, truth be told, you shouldn't love it. You should be mad, because that's the reaction I want. Every story needs a bad guy, and Christian Falcone will be him. How will Percy get him? I know, but you'll have to wait to find out! But! Don't worry, because it'll make it that much sweeter when the bastard falls. Hope you enjoyed the ride so far, and now for another minor hiatus. This chapter marks the end of the pre-written chapters I had put together for One-Seven. Next up on my schedule is Our Protector. My Ole Faithful. So if you're a fan of that, expect the next arc to start being published before the end of the month. But fans of this, don't worry, it's going to come back! Thank you all for you continued love and support, it continues to amaze me how well my dumb little stories continue to do and I cannot express my gratitude enough to all of you who have been so loving and supportive. Thanks again, stay safe, and love you all. See you soon.

Love,

LilDB

Chapter 13: Starting Over

It had been a hectic few weeks. The attack on Gotham, and the entire planet, had been bad. Over four hundred dead, and nearly two thousand wounded, and that was just in Gotham. It was the single largest, organized villain attack in the city's history. But Gotham was rebuilding. Percy had a lot to say about his new home, but he couldn't say that they weren't durable. As soon as the morning after the attacks, construction crews were already hard at work rebuilding the destroyed portions of the city. It certainly helped that Bruce Wayne had pledged nearly unlimited funds in the efforts to restore the city. But Wayne wasn't alone in doing his part.

Percy and Montoya had been working nearly around the clock. Whether an intentional target, or simply an unfortunate accident, Blackgate's walls had been breached by the attack, and nearly two hundred inmates had been released into the city. Percy and Montoya had been spending their days pounding pavement, tracking down the fugitives, and returning them to their iron home. Thankfully, they hadn't been working alone. The FBI had pledged nearly a hundred of its agents to assist in the recovery. Normally Percy wouldn't have been pleased to be working with Feds, but with the Department being so low on manpower, he wasn't about to deny help when it came. With the help of the Bureau and their nearly unlimited resources, they had managed to find nearly two-thirds of the escaped convicts.

Percy pushed open the door of his car, and climbed out. Striding around the back of the car, he popped the trunk, and pulled out a pair of worn-out sneakers. Propping himself up on the back of his car, he began switching out his shoes.

"Really, Metro, wardrobe change?" Montoya asked as she lingered by his side, lounging against the side of the car.

"Don't mock, Monty," Percy shot back, "The last four guys all ran, and I'm not ruining my shoes again. I'm already on my third pair, and shoes are too expensive. Besides," He stood up, and gave a meaningful look at the shoes on Montoya's feet. She had showed up to work that morning, not in her normal dress shoes, but in a pair of all black athletic shoes, "Don't be calling the kettle names when you're the pot,"

Montoya rolled her eyes, and Percy closed the trunk. He walked back to the driver side, and opened the door. Reaching in, he retrieved a radio, and attached it to the belt on his hip. When cornering escapees, he had found it handy to have radios on hand just in case he and Montoya became separated. With his tasks done, he gestured at Montoya and the pair took off at a brisk walk. They were in The Cauldron, an industrial district on the Bleake Island Borough. They'd gotten a tip off from one of their FBI groupies, that two of their escaped prisoners were using an old warehouse at the far pier as something of a hideaway.

"So how much you want to bet we're about to walk into an utter shit show?" Percy asked, as he took out his sidearm, and checked the slide to make sure there was a round chambered. Then he ejected the magazine and made sure that the magazine was full. Slamming the magazine back into place, Percy re-holstered his weapon, and reached behind him to repeat the process with his personal sidearm, holstered on his back hip.

"I don't take sucker's bets Metro," Montoya said, as she began checking her own weapon. They approached the warehouse, softly, Montoya tested the door handle. To no one's surprise, it was locked, Percy gestured for her to step aside, and he pulled out a set of lockpicks.

"Pretty sure those aren't standard issue," Montoya said,

"Leftovers from my Teams days," Percy commented as he began feeling around for the locking mechanism, "Surprised you aren't giving me shit about this."

"Give you shit about what?" Montoya asked, as the lock clicked and Percy pushed open the door, "All I saw was you open the door."

She pulled her weapon free and stepped inside, with Percy following suit. Inside was an unlit hallway, reaching out with his senses, Percy could feel the water in the bodies of two individuals in a room halfway down the hall. Taking lead, Percy crept down the hall, taking care to make sure each step was soft, and unnoticeable. They stopped at the door, and Percy placed an ear to the door, he could hear the sound of a television on in the other room, and the muffled sound of men talking to one another. He stepped away from the door, and exchanged a glance with Montoya, before eying the hall. She gestured with her head and Percy nodded his assent. Checking the end of the hall, Percy saw that there was a second door around the corner of the hall.

These guys were amateurs, they were hunkered down in a room near the center of the building, there would be no exits from their room, leading to the outside, leaving them effectively trapped in the building. Percy nodded his head at Montoya, before setting up on his door. There was a beat of silence, before Montoya kicked the door in and shouted out,

"GCPD, hands in the air!" There was a shout of startled surprise, and the crash of something as it fell to the ground. Percy heard the brief sound of a struggle, before the door next to Percy exploded open and a large man tried to run through. Percy stuck a leg out and the man tripped, falling to the floor with a surprised yelp. Before the stunned man could process what was happening, Percy had a knee in his back, and was placing him in restraints.

"Metro, you good?" Montoya cried out from inside,

"Yeah, you?" He called back, over the grunts of the man under him,

"All good," Percy nodded to himself and stood up, wrapping a hand under the escaped prisoner's arm and hauling him to his feet.

"This is an illegal entry!" The man was hollering, "Where's your fucking warrant, huh? You can't do this!"

"Can and did pal," Percy responded as he led the man back in the room, "This ain't exactly a domicile, it's public property, currently waiting for demolition; don't exactly need a search warrant to enter a building that hasn't got an owner. Now shut up."

Inside the room, there was the second man sitting on the floor, also restrained with his hands tied behind his back. Montoya was a few feet away, investigating a small crate. The room was fairly bare, save for a few moth-eaten cots in a corner a few feet away, a tattered old sofa, and a worn down television, that Percy was sure had been stolen.

"Find anything interesting?" He asked, as he shoved the convict on the ground beside his compatriot.

"Not unless you consider tins of ramen and old beer interesting," She commented idly,

"Not since undergrad," Percy laughed, "Come on, it's nearly lunch. Let's mirandize these guys, and get them down to booking,"

"Sounds good, let's-" Montoya was cut off, as the far door was suddenly thrown open, and a man began walking in, several large bags of what looked like food in his arms,

"Hey, assholes, I brought ya some stuff from-" He stopped abruptly as he looked at Percy and Montoya. His eyes darted over to where the two escapees were restrained on the ground, before dancing back to the guns on Percy and Montoya's hips.

"Don't do it," Percy warned, taking a cautious step forward. The man dropped the bags from his arms, and took off at a run out the door,

"Mother fucker!" Percy cursed, as he took off after him,

"Channel Seven!" He heard Montoya call out,

"Check!" He roared back, as he tore through the doorway at full gallop. Montoya would stay behind and watch over tweedles dee and dum. He ran through the hallways, before leaving the building into an open area of pavement, the runaway only a few yards ahead of him. He was trying to make it to a nondescript green sedan parked by the entrance, in the lot directly opposite the lot he and Montoya had parked in. The building blocking both lots from view of the other.

The man looked over his shoulder, and his eyes widened in fear, as he saw Percy was gaining on him. He veered off, apparently deciding that he wouldn't have time to get in the car, start it, and leave before Percy would catch up to him. He began angling for a construction site adjacent to the lot. He scrambled up the fence, and fell in a heap on the other side, before getting up and running again. Percy did a quick check to make sure no one was around, satisfied that there wouldn't be any witnesses, he cleared the fence in a single leap. He hit the ground on the other side at run, and was once more gaining on the runaway.

The man turned left, and ran directly into a mass of construction equipment. Being a weekend, there was thankfully no one in the lot. He wheeled around the side of an excavator, and pulled something from his pocket, before disappearing from view. Seeing the action, and suspecting the man had reached for a weapon, Percy suddenly stopped where he was, and dove behind a service truck. Pulling his weapon free, he rested his back against the truck, and peeked around the corner,

"GCPD!" He called out, "Come out with your hands up and behind your head!" Channeling his power, Percy could sense the man was stationary behind the excavator. Peeking his head out, Percy had to quickly withdraw, as he saw a flash of steel. There was an impact off the side of the truck, before the loud 'CRACK' of the pistol reverberated around the site. Percy quickly checked around the site, looking around the tops of several pieces of equipment, as another shot tore through the dirt beside him. When he saw what he was looking for, he swore violently. There was a surveillance camera a few yards away, pointing directly at his position. That made things far more difficult. It was considerably harder to explain away his powers when there was video evidence of him using his abilities. More annoyed than anything, Percy checked around him again. There was a windowed office trailer directly opposite the excavator. Through the glass, Percy could see the man approaching around the opposite end of the excavator, seemingly trying to flank Percy.

Percy waited until the man had cleared the corner of the excavator, before Percy began moving in the opposite direction. He turned the corner of the truck, just as the man leapt around the opposite corner of the same truck, his weapon drawn. In his adrenaline-fueled panic, the surprised man let out a series of shots.

"What the-where the hell did he go?" The man spluttered. Suspecting that Percy was executing his own flanking maneuver against him, the man spun around and fired off a few more shots. There was a click, as the weapon's magazine signaled it was empty. The terrified man, fumbled around his pants for a backup magazine, but Percy had already moved. As soon as the man had begun firing again, Percy had turned back around and was racing at the man's exposed back. Since he'd been doing nothing to mask his footsteps, the man heard Percy's approach. he spun around his eyes wide in horror as Percy barreled down on him. The man swung the empty pistol like a club, but Percy ducked under it. Hooking a leg behind the man's, Percy grabbed the arm holding the weapon, and twisted it. The man yelped in pain, and dropped the pistol, as Percy pivoted, and threw the man to the ground. He struggled, but Percy crawled on top of him, and shoved a knee in his back, before restraining him in a pair of cuffs.

"Of all the dumbass choices you could have made today, that was by far the worst," Percy ground out, as he wrestled the man off the ground, and began leading him out of the construction site. Reaching down to his hip, he grabbed the radio. Pulling it free from his belt, he thumbed it on and switched to channel seven,

"Monty, it's me, got the dipshit, heading back now."

It took some finagling, but they got their three prisoners into the back of their unit, and after battling their way through mid-day traffic, arrived at central booking. They handed their convicts and their extra collaborator off to a deputy, and were just about to head out, when the desk sergeant called out,

"Detective Montoya! Detective Jackson!" And he waved them over, Montoya turned and exchanged a look with Percy, who shrugged before the pair approached the desk sergeant.

"What's going on Ern?" Montoya asked,

"Bedlum, that's what," The tired looking desk sergeant said, looking exceptionally haggard, "Between the attack and the escapees, this place has been more of a madhouse than normal." He shook his head, as though to clear it, "Anyways, I got a call from the Plaza, telling me to tell you two, that you're needed at the Coroner's Office."

"What for?" Percy asked, and Ern gave him an annoyed shrug, "You think they tell me anything? How the hell should I know? All I know, is that I got a call from the Plaza, telling me to tell you two to head to the Coroner's as soon as you got here."

Percy didn't quite like the flippant attitude of the desk sergeant, but Montoya just steered him away,

"Thanks Ern," She said, as she pushed Percy towards the exit,

"What do think?" She asked as they exited Booking,

"Not a damn clue," Percy said, "But honestly? As long as it's not chasing down more gangbangers, I'll take anything."

---

The Gotham Coroner's office was one of the few government buildings that had managed to escape the wrath of the villain attack. It was a rather unremarkable looking building, with a flat roof, and square walls. It looked like little more than a nondescript office building. Once inside, they had been led to the bowels of the building, and into the depths of the morgue. Once inside the room, they were treated to the sight of Commissioner Gordon, standing beside a table with an older looking woman. She was in her late forties, with graying black hair and dark features. On the table looked to be several case files stacked on top of one another.

"All my time in Metropolis, and I can count on one hand how many times I even saw the Commissioner, Gordon always this involved?" Percy asked in a hushed tone,

"Never could quite kick the job," Montoya said in an undertone.

"Detectives," Greeted Gordon, "Sorry for the short notice, but unfortunately we're on a bit of a time crunch."

"What's going on Jim?" Montoya asked, as they approached the Commissioner.

"I'm pulling you two off convict duty," Gordon said shortly, "The feds will clean up the scraps, this takes priority."

Percy and Montoya exchanged a look, whatever was going on sure as hell couldn't be good.

Gordon reached onto the table, and grabbed a thin looking folder. Picking it up, he strode over and handed the case file over to Montoya. Giving her superior a confused look, Montoya opened the file, and Percy read over her shoulder. It was a missing persons, dated some three and a half months ago. The woman, Patricia Kirkpatrick, had disappeared from her apartment at some time in the early morning, the exact time was currently unknown. There had been no sign of a struggle, and the door had been unlocked, not broken."

"You want us chasing down cold cases now?" Montoya asked,

"I'm guessing that's not the only one," Percy muttered, staring at the files on the table.

"You'd be right, Jackson." Gordon said gruffly, gesturing mildly with one hand at the stack of files on the table, "In the last three and a half months, there have been five separate, seemingly unconnected disappearances. Seemingly ordinary citizens, just up and vanishing in the dead of night. They were…sporadic, and occurred all over the city. At first, we didn't know what we were looking at."

"Kidnapping?" Montoya asked,

"It was hard to tell," Gordon grunted, "No ransom notes, no demands. For all we knew, they were simply runners. Strange but not exactly out of the ordinary."

"What changed? How do you know they were connected? Because from the way you're talking, I'm pretty sure they're all connected." Percy asked, feeling like he was about to regret it.

Gordon sighed, and sent a look at the Medical Examiner. She nodded and strode over to the fridges. She threw open a latch, and opened the door, before reaching into the small storage fridge, and sliding out the storage bed. On the bed was a dark body bag. The Medical Examiner repeated the process another two times, until there were three bags on display. Gesturing them to follow, Gordon led Percy and Montoya over to the first of the bags.

"Hope you two didn't have lunch," Gordon muttered, before opening the bag.

"Mother fuc-"

"Jesus Christ Jim! What the shit?!"

Percy was suddenly extremely thankful that they'd worked straight through lunch, because he was looking at the single most disgusting thing he'd ever seen before in his entire life. The…thing…in the bag might have been humanoid in appearance, but Percy could not say that it was still a human being. The legs were bandied, shriveled. There were suture markings around the knees joints, and same around the ankles, elbows and wrists. The skin looked dry, and cracked and was astonishingly pale, as though the poor soul hadn't seen the sun in weeks. They looked less like a human, and more like a horrifying attempt at a real Frankenstein's monster. But the true horror was the head. Where a normal human face ought to have been, was instead a porcelain mask. It was perfectly smooth, with hollow eyes, and false features. It looked to Percy as though someone had ripped the head off of a doll, and shoved it on the body of a real person. On a terrifying hunch, Percy knelt down beside the body, and inspected the neck. His stomach tightened and he felt bile building up as he stepped away. From the incision marks and sticking around the neck and ears, his suspicions had been correct.

"What kind of sick bastard does this?" Percy muttered,

"Get's worse," Gordon grimaced, before walking away and opening the bag on the second table. Another doll-like person, similar to the first, lay on the bed. Only this one was slightly…different. Where the first had looked like it had been held together with staples and stitches, this one was smoother. It was harder to find the surgical incisions, and the skin had a smoother quality to it. It no longer looked like it was made of leather, and while the skin was just as pale as the other lost soul's, the skin had a healthier look to it. Almost as though the person had been regularly moisturizing.

"He's getting better," Percy murmured, and Montoya and Gordon looked up at him. Percy just gestured vaguely at the body, then jerked a thumb over at the first victim, "Look at the two, the…quality of work here is a lot better. This person looks a lot healthier, like they've been taken better care of." He pointed at the stitching along the joints, and face mask, "The stitches are looking better, you can still see them but it's…"

"It's like he's been practicing," Montoya finished darkly. Gordon just grunted darkly, and strode over to the third bag. Knowing what to expect, Percy wasn't surprised when it was revealed to be a third person. Percy sighed, as he looked over the form. Unlike the others, it was damn near impossible to see where the stitching was. The skin was sewn together so well that it was seamless. The skin was a uniform shade of brown; no blemishes or defects that Percy could readily see. Even the mask was intricately sewn onto the face, in such a way that Percy genuinely couldn't tell where the skin ended and face began.

"Well I'm guessing this is how you connected the disappearances?" Percy asked.

"Yup," Gordon said simply,

"How the hell did you ID them?" Montoya asked,

"Wasn't easy," Gordon sighed, "Fingerprints were taken off, each of them had their teeth removed and replaced with synthetics, but we managed to get a rush on a blood sample to S.T.A.R. labs and they came back with three positives. First body was Kirkpatrick. Second was Monica EdGrow, and the third was Markus Henry. Kirkpatrick was the first victim. Found her two weeks ago, her body was dumped in Gotham River, and got picked up by a barge entering port. EdGrow was picked up a few days after Kirkpatrick, we found her body a week and a half ago. Henry was reported missing two weeks ago, and we picked his body up this morning. Found in a storm drain in the Cauldron."

"Jesus, we must have driven right over the bastard." Percy muttered,

"No sign of the other two yet?" Montoya asked,

"Not yet." Gordon sighed, "Which hopefully means they're still alive."

Nobody needed to say that the chances of that were slim to none.

"We're running this as a serial kidnapping and murder." Gordon explained. "Mayor's office wants this wrapped up quickly. I've taken the liberty to have all relevant case files and documents sent to the One-Seven; get yourselves acquainted and I want you to get started on this immediately. I'm taking you off all your other active cases. This is your priority. We're fighting against a ticking clock, every minute we don't find this twisted son of a bitch is a minute he's torturing another poor soul, or kidnapping someone else."

"No need for the motivational speech Jim," Montoya said darkly, casting another look at the poor people, as the Medical Examiner began packing them away.

"I think we both feel pretty fucking motivated"

---

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. This is going to be like finding a needle in a goddamn needle factory."

Percy agreed with his partner's assessment. Sighing, he leaned back further into the couch, and busied himself with another bite of his take-out. They'd spent all day in one of the department's conference rooms going over relevant case information. It had taken them most of the day just to sift through the stuff they had on their three confirmed vics. Eventually, they called it a night and retreated back to Montoya's apartment to continue their work. They'd decided that it was best to look at the case fresh, rather than relying solely on the work of the first detectives, they supplemented that information to help them form a new opinion.

They began by looking at each victim individually, making up a profile and a murder-book for each victim. They then began cross-referencing each victim with the other, looking for any loose thread that might hint at why they were specifically targeted. But no matter where they looked, or how hard, they were coming up short. Race, schooling, employment, friends, military, nothing. There was absolutely nothing connecting the victims together. They were beginning to think that the victims had been selected completely at random.

"We should prioritize the one's that are still missing," Percy said with a groan, "It's shitty, but unfortunately we aren't going to learn much of anything running down the leads of these three. Trail might still be at least warm for the other two."

"That's some cold shit Metro," Montoya said softly, "But you're right." She paused, and put down the folder she was holding, "Still, it wouldn't hurt to re-interview some of the neighbors. A fresh pair of eyes and ears and all that. See some of the scenes maybe. Might jump start something."

"All right, we hit them early tomorrow. Try and get something rolling and if it turns out to be a deadend, we move on." Percy said, then groaned, "We are seriously under-manned here,"

"Understatement of the century," Montoya said, "But you're right. Still, not likely to change any time soon,"

"How ya figure?" Percy asked,

"C'mon Metro, you have to know by now the rest of the precinct is dirty," Montoya said with an exasperated look, "You've been around Cavallo and Wise long enough now to know what type of men they are."

Percy sighed and crossed his arms. Montoya was right. He had spent enough time in the precinct to know exactly what time of men they were. Who they really served. Given the way they interacted with the LT, it didn't take a genius to know that all three were probably dirty.

"Fucking hate it," Percy grunted, roughly grabbing the next stack of files on the table and sifting through it,

"Welcome to Gotham, Metro," Montoya said cynically,

"Gods above, is there anyone in the entire department not on the take?" Percy asked,

"You, me, the commissioner, Harv." Montoya said,

"Short list," Percy commented,

"Gets shorter by the day," Montoya replied, "But that is, unfortunately, the nature of the beast. I mean shit Metro, you know what we're paid. Most guys look at an easy payday, a good way to provide for their families, and better still, damn near guaranteed protection, which is not a given in this city. Most folks got people to look out for, to protect. Not saying I agree, but I get it."

"Doesn't make it right," Percy said, and Montoya turned and gave him a deeply appraising look.

"No, it doesn't."

BREAK

"You people are never going to leave me alone, are you?"

"My apologies, I didn't realize our missing persons was such an inconvenience,"

The landlord spun around and put a finger in Percy's chest, "What's inconvenient, is your department keeping me from renting that damn apartment out to someone else,"

Percy arched an eyebrow, "This is an ongoing investigation, and you're being compensated for your loss in profits,"

The landlord just glowered at Percy, and spun around. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his keys and unlocked the door to Patricia Kirkpatrick's apartment. "Thanks for your cooperation," Percy said, stepping inside, and snapping a pair of gloves on.

The landlord rolled his eyes but didn't say anything and stepped away. Percy and Montoya had split up in order to cover more ground. They'd meet back up at the third scene and go over notes after casing the last scene.

Patricia Kirkpatrick's apartment was exactly how the crime techs had left it the day the disappearance had been reported. Nothing was out of place. Kirkpatrick lived in a nicer apartment in one of the nicer districts near downtown. She had been a physical therapist at Gotham General. She had been a bright up and comer. From the reports, her co-workers had had nothing but good things to say about her. She had been a diligent worker, a good friend, and an all-around average woman. Nothing exceptional about her what-so-ever.

Percy began his meticulous walk-through of the apartment. He checked the door, checked the bed, the windows, everything. But there was nothing in the apartment intimating a forceful entry of any sort. He even opened the fridge, but apart from some now molding meat from a local butcher shop, there was nothing. The record had been clear that no prints had been taken off the window. Sighing, Percy crossed his arms. Catching sight of the dresser, Percy walked over. There were several pictures. One was one of Kirkpatrick with several friends. The other was a picture of her in her scrubs on what Percy assumed was her first day. The final picture was that of her at the end of what looked like a marathon. She had a large medal around her neck, and was posing in front of her score. Apparently she had been the winner. Sighing, Percy pushed off the cabinet, and resumed his search. Ultimately though, he found nothing of note.

Getting frustrated, he decided to move on. Stepping outside the apartment, he knocked on the door of a neighbor.

There was a click as the lock was opened, and the door opened. A younger man, maybe in his early twenties, opened the door.

"Can I help you?" He asked, Percy raised his identification, and flashed it at the man,

"GCPD, I'm Detective Jackson, are you Daniel Concord?" Percy said, the man stared at the badge for a second, his eyes wide, before he adopted a haggard look.

"I am," Daniel said, "Here about Patricia?"

"I am," Percy nodded,

"Didn't realize that this was still going on. Still no sign of her?" Daniel asked,

Percy hesitated for a moment, the families had already been notified, and it wouldn't be revealing to the case at large to confirm that she was dead. Percy would just be a detective working a homicide rap.

"We found her body," Percy said, and Daniel grimaced. His expression becoming very pinched. He crossed his arms and leaned against his door, his head resting on the frame.

"Fucking hell," He breathed out,

"I read your statement to the detectives, and I know it's been some time, but I'd just like to go back over the things you discussed with them." Percy pressed gently.

"Anything you need," Daniel said quickly,

"We believe that she was taken July 14th. At some time between the hours of two and three in the morning. Is there anything you can remember from that night?"

"Nothing much, unfortunately, I slept straight through the night. Don't remember anything weird happening." Daniel sighed, and Percy nodded,

"I assumed as much. Is there anything you can tell me about Ms. Kirkpatrick? Did you two know each other? Speak very often?" Percy asked,

"As much as anyone speaks to their neighbor I suppose." Daniel shrugged, "Ran into her on the stairs, in the halls, and doing laundry a couple of times. The night she disappeared we spoke in the laundry room for a couple of minutes. She told me how she was training for a marathon but that was pretty much it."

"No boyfriends or girlfriends? Never noticed anyone coming over at odd hours, or her getting into strange vehicles?" Percy asked,

"Sorry detective," Daniel said, shaking his head, "But I didn't talk to her much. Have you tried speaking to her family? I think I remember her mentioning a mother up in Miagani."

"She's on the list," Percy smiled, reaching into his pocket, he grabbed a business card and handed it over to the man. "If you think of anything, or see anything, give me a call, day or night."

"Of course detective," Daniel said, taking the card and giving it a look, with a final nod, Daniel re-entered his apartment. Sighing Percy ran a hand through his hair. This was going to be a waste of time. Walking over to a nearby window, he let out a breath and leaned against the frame. He watched as the pedestrians walked on the street below. His gaze rested for a moment on a woman and her young daughter. The woman led her daughter by the hand into a large bank on the street directly across from the apartment building. A gleam of something reflecting from the sunlight drew his attention away from the civilians, to a security camera. Percy stood up, feeling suddenly more energetic. The original detectives had gotten a warrant for the apartment building's security cameras but nothing had been found. However there had been nothing in the record about cameras in the building across the street.

After letting the building owner know to close up Kirkpatrick's apartment, Percy raced across the street to the large bank. He stood outside for a moment, directly under one of the street facing cameras, and turned. He followed the line of the camera, and saw that it would have had a clear view of the apartments on the other side of the street.

"Something I can help you with?" Came a gruff voice, turning, Percy watched as an older man in a security uniform approached. Percy flashed his badge and identification, and pointed at the camera's.

"How far back do your tapes go?" He asked, the guard looked up and gazed at the camera as well, before shrugging,

"Don't know off the top of my head. Not unlikely that the Cloud has backups for almost all of the footage we get." The guard said,

"Think you guys have tapes going back to July?" Percy asked, getting excited.

"May I ask what this is about, detective?" The guard asked suspiciously.

"Ongoing disappearance investigation into the apartment complex across the street." Percy pointed and the guard followed the action with his eyes, "I was hoping that your cameras might have gotten our guy as he was leaving the building."

The guard eyed Percy again, then gestured for him to follow. The guard led the way into the building. He had a brief, whispered conversation with another guard, before gesturing Percy inside a back door. Percy was led down a hallway, until he was dropped off by the guard outside a door.

"We'll need to wait here, one of the managers will want to speak with you." The guard explained, and Percy nodded. Pulling out his phone, he gave Montoya a call,

"Montoya," She answered after the second ring,

"Might have something here, probably going to be late to the third apartment." Percy said,

"Whatcha got?" Montoya asked,

"Bank across the street has camera's facing the apartment," Percy explained,

"You think they might have caught our boy leaving." Montoya finished, and Percy could hear the smirk in her voice,

"Bingo." Percy said, "Get anything on your end?"

"Not a goddamn thing," Montoya grunted, "Neighbors didn't see or hear anything either. Nothing suspicious leading up to the day in question either. No new special friends. Not staying out late. No suspicious activity. Girl was a fucking personal trainer. About as mundane as mundane can be. Only interesting thing in the entire apartment was a half-rotting slab of beef from the butchers. You?"

"About the same," Percy sighed,

"Well let's hope you picked something up on your end." Montoya said. There was the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, and Percy turned, seeing a well-dressed man walking down the hall.

"Same here, gotta go, I'll text you when I'm on my way." Percy said,

"Get us something Metro," Montoya said and the line went dead. Stowing his phone in his pocket, Percy approached the man, his identification already in his hands.

"Detective Percy Jackson, GCPD," He introduced, showing his identification to the man,

"James Warner," The man introduced himself, "I'm one of the managers here. I'm told you wanted to check our security footage?"

"I do, sir." Percy nodded, "Nothing inside the bank, I'm investigating the apartment complex across the street, and was hoping your cameras might have seen something,"

"Well, I apologize detective, but unfortunately I'll need a warrant before I let you have access to those cameras." Percy sighed, and calmed his temper before it flared too high. He had been expecting as much.

He channeled the mist into his hands, before subtly waving his hand at his side. There was a slight distortion to the air around Warner's head that was only visible to Percy. Then, his eyes glazed over somewhat. Percy didn't want to outright control the man's thoughts, but a slight manipulation to make the man more compliant to Percy's wishes was perfectly acceptable to Percy. They were running against a moving clock, and getting stalled out waiting for a warrant could be the difference between catching their guy, and finding another body.

"Please sir," Percy said, putting on an affected air of desperation, "This woman has been missing for too long now, much longer and chances are the next time anyone sees her, it'll be in a body bag. I don't find anything, we won't bother you again, and if we do find something, I'll get you your warrant, sound good?" A bit of a lie, but not too much of one to weigh too heavily on Percy's conscience.

"Well…" Warner said, looking somewhat apprehensive, "I suppose a quick look wouldn't hurt,"

Percy hid the triumph on his face, and gave the man a thankful smile. "Thank you, sir," Warner gave him a hazy smile. He reached into his pocket and withdrew an ID card. He swiped the card at a security terminal on the door, which unlocked with a soft buzz. Warner opened the door, and held it for Percy to enter. The room was small. There was a single chair, in which sat another security officer, who was staring at a wall of screens.

Percy was led over to beside the man, Warner placed a hand on the guards back and whispered something in his ear, the guard nodded, and looked over at Percy,

"Do you have records dating back to July?" Percy asked,

"Not on local files, but they'll be up on the Cloud," The guard explained. He typed a few command strokes into the keyboard on the terminal, bringing up a command screen. He spent a few minutes searching through old files, until he finally found what he was looking for.

"Here we go, what date did you need, detective?"

"The 14th," Percy said,

The man scrolled down until he found the correct date. Clicking on the file, the nearest screen flickered and then changed. An image of the street across from the bank appeared, the time of day was at Midnight.

"All right now wind it forward, please. Bring me to around 2:00 in the morning," Percy commanded, and the man did as he was told. The screen began to move as the time moved forward, at around 2:15 in the morning, a car appeared on the street, and parked outside the apartment.

"Stop," Percy ordered, "Play it in real time from here."

The guard did as ordered. The tape began playing in real time. Percy watched as a dark figure got out of the car. He was maybe five foot ten, and Percy clocked him about one hundred and eighty pounds. He was wearing a dark hoodie, with the hood pulled up. Percy watched as the man disappeared inside. Percy glanced at the car, but he couldn't see the plate from where the car was parked. The make was an old sedan, black. Looked like an old cruiser model. There was movement from up top. The moon was shining directly on the windows of the building, illuminating the windows. Percy could see movement on one side of what he knew was Kirkpatrick's apartment.

He watched in silence as nothing happened for a few minutes. Then there was movement from around the corner. A dark shape was moving around the corner of the building. The dark shape moved closer to the car parked on the street. There was a strange lump attached to the dark shape, and as it moved into the moonlight, it was revealed to be the suspect, with what Percy knew was an unconscious Kirkpatrick in his arms. The man popped the trunk, and they watched as the man dumped the unconscious woman's body into the trunk.

The man then got in the drivers seat, and took off.

"Pause it," Percy ordered, and the video stopped playing. "Can you zoom in at all?" Percy asked, and the guard shook his head,

"Our tech's good, but not that good detective," The man said, and Percy sighed but nodded. Reaching into his suit pocket, he withdrew a small magnifying glass, the guard watched in amusement,

"You carry that with you everywhere?" The man asked,

"Always be prepared," Percy muttered, holding the glass up to the screen and squinting. He could make out the plate slightly, taking out his pen and paper, he wrote down the number. "Thank you gentlemen, expect a patrol officer in the next few days with a warrant for that tape."

"We'll have it ready detective," Warner nodded, and Percy gave the man a thankful nod. He turned his attention back to the screen.

"Run, run as fast as you can mother fucker. I'm on to you,"

Notes:

You wanted it, and you got it folks! I have a shit ton of chapters ready for you and oh man oh man I had some fun with this arc. I dug deep into my twisted little brain for this one, and it took a while to put together, but I'm pretty happy with what I've created here. For any of my hardcore dc people out there, let me know what theories or ideas you might have about who or what could be the big baddie this time! I'm really excited for you guys to a hold of this, and can't wait to hear about what you think! Now for some housecleaning. Now I honestly doubt I need to tell my regular followers this because ya'll already know how I upload, but to repeat myself in case you don't read my other works. I've changed my upload schedule, I'll now upload my chapters once a week until I'm out of chapters to upload, and then I'll start uploading my next project. My hope is that this will allow me to upload fairly consistently, so you guys have a steady stream of content. I'll make no promises, but as far as One-Seven is concerned, you will be having weekly uploads for over two months! So I hope that excites you! Thanks for all the love and support you guys, I hope you enjoy what's to come, because I've been working really hard to make you guys content I think you'll enjoy. As always, if you like this story, but haven't read my other works, give them a try you might enjoy them! Stay safe, stay healthy, and I love you all!

Love,

LilDBS

Chapter 14: Dragged Back In

"All right, yeah-yeah, ready for it? Ok it's Lincoln-November-One-Five-Seven-Whisky-Yankee. All right, wonderful, thanks,"

Percy ended the call and stuffed his phone into the cupholder. Turning on his blinker he made his turn and parked. He could see Montoya perched at the corner of the entrance. Grabbing his phone and the carrying tray of coffee, he got out of his car and made his way over to his waiting partner. Pulling Montoya's coffee free of the tray, he handed it over to her.

"God bless you, Metro." Montoya said, "You didn't happen to grab-" Percy shoved her three packets of sugar into her hand before she could get the sentence out. She muttered a "Thank you" under her breath as she dumped the sugar into the cup.

"We get lucky?" She asked, as she took a deep pull of her coffee,

"Oh, we got lucky," Percy said, pulling his own cup free, and throwing the tray into a nearby trash can. "Got a full plate, make and model. As well as surveillance with our guy pulling the body out."

"How useful is it?" Montoya asked, as she opened the door to the gate and stepped inside.

"Not at all," Percy said, "Guy was wearing a hoodie, stayed out of the light the entire time. Camera's were pretty shit too. Never got a look at his face, and only got a look of him pulling Kirkpatrick out of the building on the date in question,"

"Figures," Montoya huffed, "Still, at least we got the car. You put out a BOLO?"

"Just called it in as I was pulling in," Percy nodded, "You wanna take lead on this?"

"I took the last one, you can have her." Montoya said, and Percy grunted as he took another sip.

They climbed the three flights of stairs and found the apartment they needed. They'd canvas the victim's apartment at another date, both he and Montoya were far too exhausted to conduct any kind of a sweep. Besides, after three empty apartments neither of them were really in the mood to search a fourth.

Percy hammered on the door three times. There was a slight pause, before the door opened, and a woman who Percy pegged as being just shy of thirty peered around the doorframe.

"Hello?" She asked, and Percy and Montoya flashed their identification.

"GCPD, are you Ms. Aguilar?" Percy asked,

She nodded, then glanced at Montoya, "You're here about Markus," It wasn't a question. "You guys are new though. Last one's I talked to were both men,"

"Command decided they wanted some fresh on this one," Percy lied smoothly, "We've read up on what you told the previous detectives, and I don't suppose anything's changed since then?"

"Unfortunately not, detective." Aguilar said with a shrug,

"I figured as much; do you mind if I ask you some questions about Markus?" Percy asked,

Aguilar nodded, and Percy opened his notebook,

"How well did you know him?" Percy asked,

"Decently well I guess," Aguilar shrugged, "We used to go to the same gym three times a week. He's, um, been trying to stay in shape, he has a triathlon in a few weeks."

"Did he have anyone new in his life? Had he started seeing someone?" Percy asked,

"No. He was far too busy training or working for any kind of romance."

"Wonder what that's like," Montoya muttered sarcastically, but Percy ignored her,

"He never complained about anyone at work? Never seemed too concerned about anyone she thought was following her or anything?" Percy pried.

"Not that he ever admitted to me," Aguilar said, "Got the odd comment from the particularly overconfident housewife. But it was never anything outlandish."

"You don't remember ever seeing anything of note before he disappeared?" Percy asked, "Any strange cars you didn't recognize? Or people hanging around that you'd never seen before?"

Aguilar frowned for a moment, crossing her arms over her chest as she thought over the question.

"Well there was a car hanging around for a while, must have been like a week or so before Markus disappeared." Aguilar said,

"What did it look like?" Percy asked,

"Black? I think? Black sedan sort of deal, looked like an old cop car or something. It was parked out on the street for a week or so. Never really paid much attention to it. Figured it was a cop or something," Aguilar explained,

"You didn't report it?" Montoya asked, "Or mention it to the previous detectives?"

"I didn't think about it, and they never asked." Aguilar said, slightly defensively. "And report it? In this town? You're joking right?" Neither Percy or Montoya had anything to say about that, so Percy pressed on,

"Did you ever happen to get a look at the guy who was driving it?" Percy asked,

"White guy?" Aguilar said, but it was more of a question than a statement, "Maybe mid-thirties? I don't know, he was pretty unremarkable."

"Do you think you could describe him to a sketch artist?" Percy asked,

"Maybe?" Aguilar said and Percy wrote down on a note,

"I'll have someone get in touch with you later today to set up an appointment." Percy said, "And thank you for the help," He handed her his business card, "If you remember anything else or see something strange, please get in touch."

"So do you think we're actually going to get anything useful out of that?" Montoya asked as they made their way back to the cars,

"A little optimism couldn't kill you, could it?" Percy asked,

"I'm being realistic," Montoya shot back, "We aren't going to be lucky enough to catch him on something lucky like that,"

"Capone was caught-"

"Because of tax-evasion, I know Metro, I was in the academy once too. What I'm saying is think about what we've learned and all it implies. This guy is smart enough to stake out his victims. Learn their routines, figure out when the best opportunity to strike is, and to take them out quickly, quietly, and without alerting anyone to their presence. Sooner or later, he has to figure out that we're on to him, and ditch his car. And that description?" Montoya shook her head, "This is getting depressing."

Percy crossed his arms. It was hard to disagree with that. They probably couldn't even use whatever artist depiction they get from the artist. Percy was certain that it would end up being painfully generic and they would be inundated with so many calls their entire system would be overloaded.

"Still, we need to play every card we have." He said.

"You're right," Montoya conceded, "But I'm starting to feel like I'm at a loss at how to continue. I know we need to move on to the last apartment, but is it even going to be worth it? Are we even going to learn anything?"

"I don't know," Percy admitted,

"But we have to try."

---

They didn't learn anything new from the fifth apartment. The only remarkable thing about Alexander Peters was that he was a professional bodybuilder. Just like all the others, he didn't have any close relatives or significant others. They were at a complete loss. So they made their way back to the precinct, and holed themselves back up in their conference room.

"Ok, let's talk our way through this," Percy said, as he set down a fifth cup of coffee down in front of Montoya.

"Alright, let's start with the victims. What's he doing kidnapping them? He's butchering these people. Cutting them apart and stitching them back together again. Why? What's he trying to accomplish?"

"He's practicing?" Montoya said, "You saw yourself, he's getting better. His technique is getting more refined. The question is why? Why is he getting better? What's he trying to accomplish?"

"He's trying to cleanse them," Came a new voice from the door. Montoya and Percy both jumped. They had been so enraptured in their work they hadn't heard the door open. Commissioner Gordon was standing there, along with another man. He was somewhere around his late forties or early fifties and around five-foot-nine, with a long lanky body. He had a well-trimmed beard, and a shiny bald head. His dark, rounded spectacles seemed to gleam in the fluorescent light.

"Detectives," Gordon greeted, "Allow me to introduce Doctor Hugo Strange. Head psychologist, lead therapist, and newly appointed warden at Belle Reve Penitentiary. I'm borrowing him to assist on your case."

It was becoming increasingly commonplace for psychological experts to be brought in on criminal investigations. They were unquestionably useful tools in the creation of criminal profiles. When detectives understood who they were trying to hunt, it was easier to figure out their movements and patters. Further, it was just as useful to profile the victims. If they could determine why someone was being targeted, they potentially stop it from happening again.

"A pleasure detectives," Strange said, as he took a step forward and extended a hand. Percy shared a look with Montoya, before shrugging and heading over and gripping Strange's hand. The man had a firm grip, and he gave Percy a toothy smile.

"I've heard great things about you detective, Amanda Waller had nothing but good things to say,"

Percy beamed, letting go of the man's hand, "How is she? Haven't seen Amanda in years,"

"Well enough, I'm happy to say. She resigned from the warden position after that nasty situation with the attempted break-out. Last I heard she's back working for the Defense Department" Strange said, and Percy laughed.

"That sounds about right for her. Never one to stay down for too long," Percy said,

"And detective Montoya, a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. Your record speaks for itself." Strange applauded, shaking her hand as well.

"Now that we're all introduced," Gordon said, "I've taken the liberty of bringing the good doctor up to speed on your investigation. He's here to offer a professional opinion and input on our bad guy. The sooner we figure this bastard out, the sooner we're going to get to finding him." And with that, Gordon shut the door.

"What was that you were saying, Doctor?" Montoya asked, "He's trying to cleanse our victims?"

"Indeed." Strange said, "Your man, he's-he's sick. In the clinical sense to be sure, but also metaphorically. He's sick of humanity being…impure. Imperfect. By pulling them apart and putting them back together again. He's trying to purify them. Cleanse them of their-their imperfections." He began pacing as he spoke,

"You noticed, perhaps, that the, ahem, suspect, he appeared to have been practicing, yes? Using his first victims as experiments."

"Kirkpatrick looked like Frankenstein's monster, but by the time he got to Henry, he had gotten…better." Just saying it made Percy feel sick.

"Indeed," Strange nodded, "If I had to guess, I would wager that he is honing his technique, trying to…perfect it. Determine the best way in which to craft the perfect human."

"Then what?" Montoya asked, "So he perfects his-his formula or technique or whatever the hell it is. Then what? What does he do then? Does he stop?"

"No," Strange said decidedly, "He's far too invested. This desire, it's all consuming, and encompasses his every moment. Every thought, dream, vision. It's all he wants. No, he won't stop. It's hard to say right now what his endgame is, but rest assured that he isn't going to stop just because he hones his skill. He views the entire human race as imperfect. As flawed."

"So what?" Montoya said, "Is he going to try and do this to the entire world?"

Strange just shrugged, "Like I said, I'm working on limited information. This is all I have at the moment, I apologize,"

"Don't worry about it Doctor," Percy reassured, as he reached into his pocket to grab his suddenly buzzing phone, "That was plenty helpful." He hit the answer button and put the phone to his ear, "Jackson," he answered,

"Detective Jackson, this is Dr. Henderson, we've yet to be formally introduced," Said a woman's voice over the other end of the line,

"Dr., pleasure to meet you," Percy said, "What's up?"

"I was going back over the files from your autopsy and found something we missed the first time around." The medical examiner explained, "We were too preoccupied with determining the identities of the bodies to see it the first time. But there were trace remnants of something in the victims' systems. Are you able to meet me down at the Coroner's office?"

Percy checked his watch, rush hour was a few hours ago, it shouldn't take too long to get downtown. He began gathering his things, and gestured for Montoya to do the same. She did so without hesitation.

"We'll leave now, we can be there in twenty minutes." Percy said,

"See you in a bit detective," There was a click and the line went dead, and Percy shoved his phone back into his pocket.

"Medical Examiner's office," Percy explained to Montoya, "They found something in the victims that they missed the first time."

"Let's go then," Montoya said, shoving her gun back into its holster. "Doc, help yourself to the files, we'll let you know with what we find,"

Percy gave the good doctor a nod, and they headed out of the precinct. Traffic was light, so they made it to the Coroner's office in only fifteen minutes. They were directed down to the morgue, where Dr. Henderson was waiting for them.

"Thanks for getting here so quick detectives." She said in way of greeting,

"Blues and twos the whole way here, made it a little faster." Percy said, "Whatcha got for us?"

Henderson opened a file in her hand, and handed it over to Percy. He budged over so Montoya could get a good look as well. Henderson spoke as they looked,

"Like I said on the phone, we missed it the first time around. At first blush, it doesn't look like anything out of the normal. But I had a funny feeling so I ran some tests. Turns out that that, is a very potent hallucinogen. Something similar to LSD only a hell of a lot more powerful. More potent. I checked the other files too, and the other victims also had trace amounts of this crap in their systems."

"It didn't disperse?" Montoya asked, "You know, filter out of their system?"

"We ran the tests soon after we found the bodies. I suspect by now that it's gone, but it was still there in small doses when we ran the tests." Henderson explained,

"Why would he be drugging them?" Montoya asked,

"No idea," Percy muttered, "Pain suppressant maybe? Drug 'em up, make 'em nice and docile so they don't fight it when he starts pulling them apart? Could it do that?" He asked Henderson,

"It's possible," She shrugged, "The strength of the hallucinogen would potentially powerful enough to leave the user…catatonic."

"This can work," Montoya said, "If he did this with the first three…"

"He's probably doing it with the others," Percy finished. "You got a hook up in Narcotics?"

"I know a guy," Montoya nodded, "Let's run with the drug angle. We track down the supplier, we might be able to track down the bastard doing this."

Montoya checked her watch, "Patton is probably at the bar right now, I'll go check in with him, catch you in the morning?"

Percy nodded, and after thanking the Medical Examiner, they left the office.

---

Percy sighed as he finished tying the bags up. He hefted the bag out of the can, and walked out of his apartment. He was exhausted, he had been half tempted to wander into the nearest bar, and get so drunk he couldn't remember what city he was in. But he needed to be fresh in the morning, so he had resigned himself to a quiet evening in, and an early bedtime.

He hefted the trash into the garbage bin, breathing through his mouth to mask the stench. He turned around, intent on climbing the stairs back to his apartment, when the sound of movement from the alleyway caught his attention. He turned to look, but didn't see anything. Probably a stray cat, he reasoned to himself, and turned his back, only to stop again when he heard the sound of voices. He grimaced, cursing his inability to keep to himself, and drew his reserve weapon from the holster at his hip.

In spite of being home for the evening, a demigod didn't live as long as he had without a healthy sense of paranoia. Raising the gun level, he took a few cautious steps towards the alley, positioning himself against the wall, and listened to the voices.

"…got to get him to a hospital!"

"And tell them what? 'Hey, sorry, but our friend here was mauled by a dog from what you perceive as hell, think you can clean him up a bit?' You're insane!"

"Well what are we supposed to do then? Meg had all the nectar and the ambrosia! And I don't know how to make a tourniquet!"

Nectar and the ambrosia? Percy rolled his eyes, and cursed under his breath. Of all the things to fall into his lap, a couple of lost demigods were the last thing he wanted to deal with. He almost just walked away then and there. He didn't even know why they were there, they shouldn't be anywhere near the city. He'd made a deal to prevent exactly that. He'd worked so hard to distance himself from that world, and he emphatically wanted nothing to do with walking back into it.

But he also couldn't bring himself to let a kid just bleed out on his doorstep. He may want nothing to do with the gods anymore, but the kids were innocents in their games, and didn't deserve to die because of their selfishness. Holstering his weapon, he stepped out into the alley.

He couldn't help but internally scoff at the kids. Whatever they were training demigods with these days clearly wasn't up to the usual standard, these kids didn't have any situational awareness.

He turned the next corner and saw them. Gods above they looked young. Couldn't have been more than fourteen. The first was a fiery haired youth who looked like he was right on the cusp of a growth spurt. His feet and arms looked too long for his body, giving him an unusually lopsided appearance. The other was a dark-skinned girl, she was about a head shorter than her compatriot, and a bit on the heavier side. they were hunched over the body of another boy. He had dark hair and a boyish face, and was bleeding profusely from a nasty looking gash on his side. It looked like he had been mauled by a particularly large dog.

"Move," Percy ordered, making the two teens jump. The boy scampered to the side, and the girl tried to draw a dagger from her pocket. Her movements were shaky and unpracticed, and Percy shot a hand out and stopped her. He deftly twisted her arm so he could get a better look at her forearm, and was unsurprised to see that there was no mark.

"Graeca," He scoffed, and let her hand drop. She scrambled away from him, huddling against the far wall.

"Who are you?" She demanded, and Percy had to give her some credit. She at least had some courage.

"Former legionnaire," Percy said, kneeling down beside the boy. Reaching out a hand he pressed his palm against the boy's bleeding side. With a small burst of his power, he commanded the blood to spot pooling. "First cohort," He clarified,

"You're Roman," The boy breathed, and Percy nodded. Scooping the boy into his arms he began walking out of the alley, but stopped and sighed when the girl tried to bar his path. She had retrieved her dagger, and was holding it in a defensive stance. She was clearly a novice, but at least she was trying.

"We're just supposed to trust you on your word?" She demanded, and Percy rolled his eyes.

"I swear on the Styx I'm former Legion and I don't mean you or your friends any harm," He said in utter exasperation. There was a clap of thunder overhead, and the girl's eyes widened, and her arms dropped to her side. Percy ignored her and pushed past.

"Hurry up, they can tell when one of you has been weakened. Don't want any more of 'em to show up." Percy called out as he cast a minor illusion over them with the mist, keeping their presence away from the prying eyes of mortals.

He was aware that the kids were following him as they climbed the stairs into his apartment, they were distrusting but Percy ignored them. Pushing in the door to his apartment, Percy deposited the kid on the sofa, and strode from the room. He walked into his bedroom, and opened his closet. At the bottom of the closet was an old pelican case and an even older looking antique trunk, hefting the pelican case up, he carried it back into the living room.

"What's that?" The boy asked, "And why do you have a gun?"

"And you still haven't told up who you are!" The girl said, but in spite of their bravado, the allowed Percy to do his work and Percy continued to ignore them and opened up the case. He pulled out several pictures, his old dress uniform, a battle-scarred American flag, and an ancient looking knife. Percy then removed the false bottom to the case, and withdrew one of the many flasks of nectar stored inside. Percy then took the nectar, and opened the wounded boys mouth. Tipping the flask back, the golden liquid flowed down into the boys mouth. Percy only poured a small amount before stopping the stream.

Stepping back, Percy inspected the wound on the boy's side, as it began to stitch itself back together again. Nodding in satisfaction, Percy strode from the room and into the bathroom off of the kitchen. Rummaging around in the medicine cabinet, Percy grabbed some pain medication, then he walked into the kitchen and filled a glass of water. With his tasks done, Percy walked back into the living room, and set the pain medication and the water on the small table next to the sofa.

The kid's friends took cautious steps forward and began inspecting the wound and the boy, making sure that Percy hadn't done anything untoward. Percy left them to their task, and busied himself with repacking his case. Once the contents were back where they belonged, Percy picked the case back up, and stored it back in its place at the bottom of his closet. Walking back into the living room, Percy glared at the kids,

"Sit," He ordered. Whether sensing his power, or out of sheer fear, they obeyed. Each perched themselves in a chair beside the sofa. Percy glared at them, looking each one in the eye. When they met his gaze, each of the kids quickly averted their own.

"This is a safe place," Percy began, "Me and my home are protected. No monsters will be able to find you while you are here,"

"How?" Asked the girl, but Percy didn't answer her,

"Now then, who are you?" Percy demanded,

"Who are you?" The girl demanded,

Percy rolled his eyes. They were going to be difficult about this. This had to be karma, he knew it. He had been just as much of a pain in the ass when he had been their day. Percy decided he'd expedite things a bit. Walking to the kitchen, he deftly flicked on the stove, and opened the refrigerator. Pulling out a box of pizza, Percy pulled the slices out, placed them on a cooking tray, and slid them into the oven. Setting a timer on his phone, Percy walked back into the room. He was unsurprised to see the kids there, they knew they were better off with Percy than on their own.

They sat in silence for several minutes. Percy just staring at them, and them ducking their heads and avoiding his eyes. The timer on Percy's phone went off, and Percy strode out of the room. Putting on oven mitts, Percy pulled the pizza out of the oven; he grabbed a pair of plates and slid the pizza onto them. Kicking open the fridge again, he grabbed two cans of soda, then the pizza, and strode into the room.

"Here, eat." Percy said, handing the plates and soda to the kids. They took them with some apprehension. Eyeing the plates distrustfully. Percy rolled his eyes, "If I wanted to kill you, I'd have shot you. Easier than luring you here and poisoning you." He strolled from his living room, and grabbed his tin of chew from the kitchen. He strolled back into the living room, and plopped himself down in the remaining chair. Throwing a large lip into his mouth. Percy leaned back in his chair,

"So, where were we?" He asked, "Right, you were telling me why you were here," But they remained silent, so Percy started, "Ok, I'll start. My name is Percy, now you go,"

The two looked at each other, before the girl spoke, "We're here on a quest,"

Percy let out a laugh, "Ok, guess I should have clarified a few things first. Number one, I'm a detective, knowing when someone is lying to me is part of the job. So don't bullshit me. Number two, you are Greeks, which means that you fall under Chiron's purview, and he and I have a deal. No demigods in my city, so…let's try this again. Why are you here?"

"You made a deal with Chiron? Wait why aren't demigods allowed in Gotham?" Asked the girl,

"Not important, now answer the damn question. Who are you, and why are you here?"

"James Donovan, son of Hephaestus." The boy said,

"Jamie!" Hissed the girl, glaring at him,

"He's a cop!" James shot back, "And in case you missed it, we let David get mauled by a hellhound. And this guy healed him. Gave us food! Besides we still don't know where she is!"

"Where who is?" Percy asked,

"…Meg," Said the girl softly, then pointed to herself, "My name is Terri, daughter of Athena. That's David, son of Hecate."

"All right," Percy said slowly, lifting up an empty water bottle, and spit a wad of new into it, "Who is Meg, and for the umpteenth time, why are you here?"

Terri shifted uncomfortably, "Meg's a daughter of Demeter. She's…kind of into environmentalism."

Percy snorted, "Seems like a bit of an understatement where they're concerned,"

"Yeah but, like, she's really into it. Like humanity should be punished for what it's done to the natural world." James explained,

"You ever hear of Poison Ivy?" Terri asked, and Percy groaned, leaning back into his chair and covering is eyes.

"Of-fucking-course." He muttered, "Stupid, fucking, tree-huggers."

"Yeah," Terri said simply, "She wanted more than anything to meet her, so she snuck out of camp. We knew what she was planning so we followed her. We know that it was stupid, but this is…it's Gotham. We all hear the stories right? Going here by herself, demigod or not, was not something we could let happen. We figured that if she at least had some backup then maybe things would be ok,"

"But she gave you the slip," Percy said, "This is great, just great. I got a rogue demigod loose in my city, hell bent on meeting one of the most dangerous women on the planet, all because she's a godsdamned fangirl."

The kids, shrank into their seats, and Percy popped out of his chair and began pacing. A million different thoughts were racing through his mind. Scenario after scenario. Each worse than the last. Terri's voice tore him away from his thoughts,

"So, what do we do?" She asked, and Percy rounded on her,

"We?" He asked, incredulous, "We are not doing anything," He made up his mind, and grabbed his phone.

"Is that a phone?" Terri asked, looking suddenly panicked, "Wait what are you doing, don't you know that-"

Percy ignored her and pulled up his contact list, and dialed a number he hadn't used in years. A male voice answered after a few rings,

"Percy? Hey man, listen I'm happy you're reaching out, we really need to catch up but now isn't a good-"

"You're missing four of your kids right now, right?" Percy asked, cutting over the voice. The line was silent for a moment,

"How did you know that?" The man asked,

"Because I have three of them in my living room." Percy said, "The fourth, a daughter of Demeter called Meg, she's missing, somewhere here in Gotham."

"Wait, Gotham? I thought you were in Metropolis?"

"Circumstances changed," Percy said in way of an answer, "I'll text you my address, come and get your kids, I'll find Meg."

The line was still for a few moments, "Why don't I help you. It'll be just like-"

"I'll handle it, come get your kids." Percy said sharply.

"…Ok Percy. Piper and I will be there in the morning."

"Bring a picture of Meg for me," Without another word, Percy ended the call, and turned to the kids, "You're staying here tonight. Your ride is coming in the morning, you'll get on it, head back to your camp, and you'll let me find your friend."

"You can't do that!" Terri shouted, getting to her feet, "She's our friend! We have to find her, we have to-"

"Enough," Percy commanded, and flared his divinity a bit. The room suddenly felt heavier, and the kids shrank back into their chairs, as they stared at Percy, eyes wide. Percy's patience had finally snapped. He was stretching himself thin, between the serial killer and now this little debacle, he was done playing nice. He strode over to Terri, and leaned over her, his hands resting on the arms of the chair,

"You have done enough. Instead of telling people who know what they're doing, you acted impulsively. You have snuck out of camp. You have endangered not only your life, but the lives of your friends as well. Now I have to clean up the mess you made. You don't get a choice in the matter."

"But we're trained, we can fight! We've been on quests before we-"

"Trained?" Percy laughed, standing up straight and crossing his arms, "Oh so that must be why your boy here got mauled by a hellhound. Because he was so well trained." He said sarcastically, "Also explains how I was able to sneak up and disarm you. Because you're so well trained and experienced."

Terri glared at him,

"You're untrained, inexperienced, and worse still, you're Greek," Percy said. Terri leapt out of her chair, drawing her dagger and pointing it under Percy's chin. The blade was poking into his skin slightly, but not enough to draw blood. He just arched an eyebrow at her.

"Exactly my point," He said, "In less than a second, you just proved everything I just said as correct,"

"Awful confident for a man with a knife to his throat," She shot back, and Percy rolled his eyes. In a smooth motion, he grabbed her hand and twisted it. Terri yelped in pain, and dropped the knife. Percy's other hand caught the other knife. With a sweep of his leg, Terri fell to the floor, and Percy followed in a smooth motion, planting his knee in her stomach.

"Point one," Percy said, raising a single finger, "That was pitiful. Your weight was far too forward in your stance, and you were completely off balance. Point two," He raised a second finger, "Never put your weapon that close to someone else when they're not restrained and you're not ready to actually kill them. It makes it easier for your enemy to disarm you. Point three," He raised a third finger, "You're a Greek, which means your emotions guide you. Not saying that's a good or bad thing, but it does mean that you act on impulse. I can't have that. Not here. Not in this city."

Percy stood up, tossing the knife down to the girl.

"You aren't in camp anymore, this is the real world. And in the real world, you have to worry about mortal, and monster. And in this city, they can be pretty interchangeable. You want your friend back, then you butt out. Let the professionals take care of this."

"But she's our friend," Said James softly, "We can't-we can't just do nothing." Terri just nodded in agreement, bringing her knees up to her chest, and wrapping her hands around them, her dagger laid forgotten on the ground. Percy crossed his arms. He could understand their desires. He had felt the same once upon a time. And unlike the kids in front of him, he hadn't had backup waiting in the wings.

Sighing Percy knelt down, "I understand guys, really I do. But here's what you need to understand. There is no one, and I mean no one in this city, more qualified to find your girl, than me."

Terri snorted, "Even Batman?"

Percy met her eyes evenly, "Especially Batman." Terri looked at him. Really looked at him. As though she were scrutinizing him. It was a look he remembered another daughter of Athena giving him a long time ago. Then, she nodded,

"What do you need to know?" She finally asked,

"You're holding back on me." Percy said, as he strode over and sat back down in his chair, "It's common knowledge that Ivy is locked back up in Arkham. What's Meg's plan for that? She's not planning on breaking her out is she?" Percy joked, then, upon seeing the serious expressions on their faces, he sat up straight, "Is she?"

"She is," James confirmed, "She thinks that by breaking her out, the two can, um…avenge Mother Earth,"

"Avenge…" Percy repeated slowly, "Mother Earth." The teens nodded, "What. In the name of the gods. Have they been teaching you kids?" He ground out with clenched teeth,

"Not-not that mother earth!" James was quick to amend. "Like the general mother earth. Nature, and-and stuff. She wants to punish humanity and thinks that it's her calling or something to get Ivy to help her."

"And I don't suppose she shared how she was planning on doing this?" Percy asked in exasperation,

"No," James said, "She wouldn't tell us. Only that a mortal prison was no match for a demigod."

That was a stupid amount of confidence for a fourteen-year old. But then again, who was he to judge.

"This is getting fucking stupid," Percy groaned, rubbing at his face. He was half-tempted to just throw them out of the apartment, let them deal with this nonsense on their own. But a rogue demigod running loose in his city, trying to set free one of the most dangerous women on the planet, and Percy didn't need the Bat on his ass anymore than the cape already was.

"All right," Percy said, leaning forward. "I need you tell me everything you know about Meg. And I need you tell me now."

Notes:

Alright, chapter 14 down, and now the plot thickens! We see Percy slowly get dragged back into the life, which can only be disastrous for him if we're honest. I have some fun things in store for where this is going, so I hope you're excited for it. I'll be honest, as I wrote it, things got a little weirder than I planned, but I'm ultimately happy with the direction it went in. Thanks, like always, for the love and support this story is getting, I love the feedback and please, feel free to tell me what you thought, any theories you might have on where things are going, or anything else! If you like this but haven't read any of my other stories, please give them a look, I think you'll enjoy them. Got a chapter of Our Protector done today, so if you're waiting for that to be updated, worry not, it's next up in the update rotation when all of the One-Seven chapters are uploaded! Thanks again for all the love and support! Stay safe, stay healthy, and I'll see you next week.

Love,

LilDB

Chapter 15: A Hazy Memory

Percy let out a jaw-breaking yawn as he stumbled out of his room. They had been up most of the night, as the kids filled him in on everything they knew about Meg. When they were done, Percy used some of his mist-magic and knocked the kids unconscious. They'd wake up thinking they'd simply fallen asleep. He'd also zip-tied them for good measure. He couldn't be too careful after all. Un-cuffing the kids, Percy disposed of the restraints, and snapped his fingers. The kids jolted awake in an instant. Even the previously injured David.

"I don't even remember falling asleep," James said, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, "What time is it,"

"Six in the morning." Percy said, as he walked back to the kitchen, "Your ride will be here in a bit, so get yourselves packed up. And catch Dr. Doolittle up to speed." He then busied himself with making coffee, and his breakfast. As the pot began boiling, he went into his room, and changed into his work clothes. Taking his smoothie off the blender, and poured it into a cup. He downed the entire thing in one go, before pouring his coffee into a thermos. He poured a healthy dose of creamer into the thermos before capping it. He threw his sport coat on and walked back into the living room as he got a text. Looking up at the waiting teens, he nodded at them,

"Your ride's here, come on. Follow me." Percy said,

"You really are a cop, aren't you?" Terri said, a note of disgust in her voice,

"Yup," Percy said, "And I'm going to be late for work if you don't hurry up. Come on," He urged them out the door. They climbed down the stairs and turned around the corner to the street below. Stepping onto the street, he was unsurprised to see a large, black, SUV on the curb. There was a man leaning on the hood. Tall, taller than Percy by a touch, with bright golden hair, and a powerful body. Dark sunglasses

"Oh shit," Terri muttered, as she laid eyes on the man.

"Yeah that seems to sum it up rather nicely, doesn't it?" Said Jason Grace, as he stepped away from the car, pulling his sunglasses off his face. He was glaring at the group of children. It had been years since Percy had seen that look, it was the one Jason had used with the troops. Percy had seen it cow even the hardiest of veterans into submission. The kids had no chance, and shrank into themselves slightly,

"That's what I thought," Jason glowered, and jerked his head towards the car, "Get in," The kids did as they were told; as she got it, Terri gave Percy one last meaningful look. Jason and Percy watched as the kids closed the doors behind them. Before Jason turned to Percy. He looked Percy up and down, appraising him. Percy met the man's gaze evenly. A shimmer of something on the man's hand caught Percy's attention, and he briefly looked down to notice the ornate looking wedding band around the man's finger.

"You missed it," Jason said,

"I'm sorry?" Percy said, feeling confused,

"The wedding," Jason clarified, his thumb rubbing against the ring slightly, "You missed it,"

"Sorry," Percy said again, this time actually meaning it, "Didn't want to, but I was on deployment." The sound of a car door opening drew Percy's attention away from Jason. And he watched as a very pregnant Piper McLean stepped out of the car, and beamed in his direction.

"Apparently that's not all I missed," Percy said,

"Percy!" Piper said in excitement, as she hobbled over. She reached around and gave Percy a hug. Percy raised his coffee into the air in an attempt to avoid spilling it all over the woman. "Good to see you too Piper." Percy said, giving the woman a kiss on the cheek. She then tightened her hold around Percy's neck, and whispered into his ear,

"If I wasn't pregnant I'd knee you in the balls," She hissed, and Percy let go.

"I see you haven't lost your…free spiritedness," Percy said politically,

"Cute, Jackson, real cute." Piper glowered, and Jason wrapped a calming hand around her waist.

"You were supposed to write, Percy." Jason said,

"I did," Percy said indignantly,

Jason snorted, "Once a year? You and I both know that isn't what I meant,"

"Well I'm sorry," Percy said, getting annoyed, "But it's kind of hard to write a letter in the mountains of Afghanistan!"

"Oh, don't try and play that game with me," Jason scoffed, "You've been stateside for years, and how often have I seen you since?" Percy was growing agitated. Here he was, doing the right thing, and he was getting the third degree from someone he hadn't seen in years. Someone who couldn't understand why Percy did what he did, could never understand.

"I'm not going to apologize for living my life," Percy shot back,

"I'm not trying to keep you from living your life! I'm just trying to stay in it!" Jason roared, and thunder cracked overhead as he got right in Percy's face. Onlookers were beginning to turn and watch the exchange.

Percy deflated. He had no right to blow up at Jason, at his best friend since he was a kid, for simply wanting to be part of Percy's life. Jason had always been there for him, when literally no one else had his back, Jason was there. Percy hadn't wanted to push his best friend away. But Percy had been so desperate to escape, so desperate to live his own life, that he had unconsciously pushed out the best friend he'd ever had.

"I'm sorry, Jason." He said softly, "I didn't-you know I didn't mean-"

"Scio, frater," Jason said, as he wrapped an arm around Percy. "I know you didn't. You had more reason than any to leave the life. Just don't leave me behind because of it."

Percy wrapped his own arms around Jason as well. After a moment, they broke their embrace. "Do you two need a moment, should I get in the car?" Piper asked, and Percy rolled his eyes, but smiled.

"I'm sorry to you too Piper," Percy said,

"Don't be," Piper said, "You really think Jason kept you a secret from me?" It was a rhetorical question, "Besides, it's not me you should be apologizing to," Percy felt his stomach drop slightly. He had an idea where this conversation was going. His expression must have shown on his face, because Piper nodded,

"You need to call Helen," Piper said, and Percy crossed his arms, "No, I don't," Percy said, "I knew her for a month. It's bad enough that all of a sudden parts of your world are catching back up with me, I don't need to go inviting more. You and Jason are enough,"

"Percy she's your sister," Piper pleaded,

"And if she really wants to find me, she knows where I am!" Percy shot back, "But I won't seek her out. I left the life behind; I won't go actively seeking it out again. I have made a life for myself. A real life. My friends are mortals. My life, is mortal. I like it that way. For the first time in my life, I have control of my own destiny, and I won't welcome anything into my life that might change that,"

"So, what are Jason and I then?" Piper asked,

"You two don't count. Jason's more family than she is." Percy said hotly,

"She's your sister," Piper retorted,

"And the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb!" Percy countered, "We don't even technically have the same sperm donor."

"Why are you being so selfish?" Piper asked, "Why can't you just see your sister again? Why is it all about you?"

"Piper!" Jason said sharply, seeing the look on Percy's face. "Pipes, why don't you get in the car, I think Percy ought to get to work." Piper glowered at them, but she got back in the car, leaving Percy and Jason alone.

"Percy," Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair,

"It's fine," Percy said, waving him off, "You bring what I ask you?" Jason looked like he wanted to say something, but changed his mind. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a photo of Meg, and handed it over to Percy. Percy took it, and looked at it. She was around fourteen or fifteen, with hair and eyes like her mothers, a rounded face, that contrasted with her slightly hawkish features. Committing the picture to memory, Percy tucked it away into his coat pocket, and nodded.

"I'll find her, Jason," Percy said sincerely,

"I know you will," Jason nodded. He didn't leave however, he just stood there awkwardly, "Percy…" He began, but Percy cut him off,

"It's fine, Jason." Percy nodded over at the car, "Boy or girl?" He asked,

"Girl," Jason said, his face breaking out into the largest grin Percy had ever seen on the man,

"Congratulations," Percy said, matching Jason's grin with his own. "Let me know when she's here, I'd like to meet her,"

"I will." Jason nodded, and then gripped Percy's arm. Percy returned the grip,

"Ibimus fortunam fratris" Jason said,

"Et quoque apud te" Percy replied. With a final meaningful look, Jason got in his car, and drove off. Percy checked his watch, he would be cutting it close but he could still make it in time. With a heaving sigh, he headed off to his own vehicle. Meg would have to wait, he had more pressing issues at the moment.

---

"You look like shit," Montoya observed as Percy plopped himself into an open chair in the ops room. "Long night?" Percy hesitated for a moment. He could outright lie, but Montoya was clever, and she would know something was off. So he decided with a partial truth.

"No, working on something," Percy said. Montoya arched an eyebrow,

"Moonlighting already Metro? I thought you were better than that," She said, looking…disappointed,

"It's not like that," Percy said, with a wave of his hand, "My best friend when I was a kid, his niece ran away from home. Thinks she's somewhere in the city. Asked me to see if I can track her down,"

Montoya's features softened considerably, "Damn," She said, "Sorry about that." But Percy waved it off,

"It's fine." He said,

"You want some help? Could put out a BOLO," She asked, but Percy shook his head,

"No, she doesn't really trust cops. Might spook her. And I appreciate it Monty, but I'll run this solo for now, but if I need ya, I'll call," He added with a smile, "And thanks. That means a lot."

"What are partners for?" She asked rhetorically,

"You get anything from your guy in Narcos?" Percy asked, flipping through a new set of files on the table,

"Yeah, surprisingly," Montoya said, and Percy looked up. Grabbing his coffee, Percy leaned back in his chair and listened,

"There's something new that's been hitting the streets in the last few months. Goes by the name of Wonderland. It's like LSD on steroids. Makes the user basically a fucking zombie." She explained, and Percy arched an eyebrow,

"Got a name on a supplier?" Percy asked, and Montoya shook her head,

"No names, but a nickname has been floating around." She grinned,

"What?" Percy asked,

"You're gonna think I'm joking," She smirked,

"Hit me," Percy said, flexing his fingers in a 'bring it' manner.

"Guy calls himself the Mad Hatter," She said, and Percy stared at her, then leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling.

"The Mad Hatter selling Wonderland. Why the fuck did I trade Metropolis for this?" Percy groaned,

"Better housing rates," Montoya snarked and Percy snorted.

"All right, so it seems like a safe bet that our boy got some of that good good from the Hatter. Uses them to drug up the victims, get them nice and docile so he can butcher them. He's got to have a pretty active supply of the stuff then. So either he's in touch with the Hatter personally, or he's sending a proxy,"

"He's not using a proxy," Came the voice of Hugo Strange from the doorway. Percy and Montoya looked up,

"Good morning doc," Percy greeted, "Got something?"

"Indeed I do, detective." Strange nodded, as he walked into the room. He perched himself in front of the whiteboard, and began pacing, as though lecturing a collegiate psychology class.

"I spent much of yesterday putting together, what I believe, to be a rather excellent profile of our suspect. He is a perfectionist. Everything he does, must be done exceptionally. Anything less is of no worth. It is why he disposes of the bodies the way he does. He tosses them onto the street. He is disgusted. He believes that he is better than that, and he does not tolerate failures. A man like that is a loner. He would be not trust another living soul with any part of his experiment. They might contaminate the results. So he would not use a proxy. He would not trust them with even the most menial of tasks, let alone with something of import to the grander scheme."

Percy was writing down notes on his pad as Strange lectured.

"All right, aside from being a loner and a perfectionist, what else you got for us?" Percy asked, and the good doctor smiled, a wide and toothy smile.

"I do not yet know what our killer does for a living, however I can tell you what he is not, and that is a surgeon, or a practitioner of medicine of any sort." He explained,

Percy and Montoya shared a look,

"How do you figure?" Montoya asked,

"The stitching. It is…imprecise. Unpracticed. All students of medicine learn how to stitch early in their careers. But looking back at the first victims. Taking special care to look at where the stitching meets the skin. You will see notice that where the cuts are made are harsh. Like they had been made with violence. Now the violence goes back to his anger, but the imprecision? That speaks to someone who lacks skill."

"Any ideas yet on what our boy might be doing for a living?" Percy asked, "Since he's clearly not a surgeon,"

Unfortunately, I am still attempting to deduce for myself what his…hidden self, does. I have ideas, but at the moment, they are merely suspicions, and I don't want to burden you with information that is less than substantive."

"Well doc, pull up a chair, and help yourself to some files." Montoya said, and the doctor nodded at her, unpacking his work case and settling himself in for some work. Montoya turned to Percy,

"Gameplan?" She asked,

"Think Narcotics will play nice? Let us in on their investigation?" Percy asked, feeling as though he already knew the answer,

Montoya winced slightly, "Not likely," She said, and Percy sighed,

"Figures," He muttered,

"I'll see what I can do. If this is taking priority, Jim might be able to pull a few strings for us," Montoya said, and Percy shrugged,

"Must be nice, being all chummy with the Commissioner and all," Percy teased.

"Shut up," Montoya grumbled, "What about you? What's your gameplan?"

"I'm going to start in on the financial records. See if there is anything odd going on. See if any of them have been eating at the same diner or something." Percy also brought out a couple of papers from his pack under the table, "After that, I was going to take these to Judge McKenzie, and get these warrants signed." "

What for?" She asked,

"Did a little digging yesterday, found out that across from the second and third apartments are another bank and a private school respectively. Both have security cameras facing the roadway. Figured we might get a better look at our boy."

"You think that'll help at all?" Montoya asked, and Percy shrugged,

"Who knows," He said, swiveling in his chair and picking up the phone. "But it's worth trying, isn't it?"

---

Percy let out a disgruntled groan, as he placed down the financial record of Monica EdGrow. He'd been staring at financial records all day, and he was confident he'd be seeing numbers when he closed his eyes. So far, he hadn't seen anything that would link the victims together. Nothing suspicious or out of the ordinary. The only bright side of his day had been Judge McKenzie expediting his warrants. They would have copies of the tapes from the dates of the kidnappings by the following morning.

Montoya had made the call to Jim, who had said he'd have a word with the head of Narcotics about getting them in on an upcoming hit.

"Anything?" Montoya groaned, her head laying in a stack of her own financial statements.

"Big, fat, steaming pile of nothing." Percy groaned. Montoya's phone rang and she fished it out of her pocket. "Montoya," She said, before sitting bolt up-right. Percy straightened in his chair, and immediately began collecting his thing.

"We'll be right there," Montoya said, before closing her phone and throwing her coat on, "Found the car. Abandoned down on fifth, by the pier."

"Let's go," Percy said, throwing on his coat.

---

Percy stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Montoya met him mid-stride as they approached the parked car.

"Fuck, me," Percy growled as he stared at the burnt-out husk of the car.

"Bastard," Montoya snarled, "He must know we're onto him," Throwing on spats and gloves, they approached the scene. Montoya wandered off to interview the first on the scene as Percy got to the car. Leaning down, Percy inspected the inside of the husk. Pulling open the glove compartment, Percy inspected the contents, being careful not to get any of the fibers of his coat on the inside. He rifled through some of the burnt up papers and documents. He checked under the seats, and the creases between the cushions but didn't find anything.

Checking the center console, he opened it up, and checked the small compartment in there. Most of the contents inside had been spared from the fire. Not that there was anything worth grabbing. There was a couple of old cartons of cigarettes, and a sandwich bag from a local deli. Picking it up, Percy looked at the insignia on the bag. A cute little cartoon pigs head looked back at him. Sighing, Percy tossed the bag back into the chute. Getting out of the car, Percy marched over the driver's side, and did the same sweep. Again, he found nothing of note.

Noting the trunk release in the peddle well, Percy pulled on it. There was a click, and the trunk popped slightly as the lock mechanism was released. Strolling the back, Percy looked at the charred remains, and was unsurprised to see nothing. He did a casual inspection of the sides of the carpet, when he had to do a double-take. Along the corners of the seams of the burnt carpet, where the fabric met the metal of the frame, there was a small gap. It was almost missable. Pulling his sleeves back, Percy ran his fingers along the sides of the crease and he could feel the false bottom underneath. Gripping the bottom, Percy took careful and measured steps to insure that he pulled the topping off smoothly and within a matter of minutes, he had successfully and carefully removed the false bottom of the trunk.

"Gods be good," He breathed out,

"Whatcha got Metro-holy shit," Montoya cursed. The false trunk was full of a cache of some sort. Empty bottles, used and stained old rags. Ratty hoods, and piles of something wrapped in tin-foil.

"Fuck a duck," Montoya hissed, "What the hell, I thought our guy was supposed to be a perfectionist, how in the hell did he forget about all of this?"

"Either he thought it would burn, or didn't care if we found it," Percy muttered, he leaned down and picked up one of the rags, he gave it a quick sniff and sighed,

"Chloroform," He said, "Homemade too I'm guessing. Smells too sweet."

"Got a lot of experience with that Metro?" Montoya asked, as she examined one of the bottles,

"Shut up," Percy snarked, "Bet you anything that hood is going to have our vics all over it."

"What I tell you about suckers bets Metro," Montoya sighed,

"Our FOS see anything?" He asked,

"No," Montoya shook her head, "Recognized the plates and called it in. The woman who flagged him down remembered seeing someone drop it off, but it was too dark to see anything. What she could remember fits with the description we got from our interviews."

"We're getting run around in circles," Percy said. He then reached down and grabbed one of the foil packages. Taking care, he opened it slowly and looked inside. There were several tabular squares in the foil. They looked like very small stickers, and they were stack on top of one another.

"Looks like we can confirm that Wonderland theory," Percy sighed. He peeled his gloves off, and as he motioned for an officer to get the car ready for a tow. Montoya's phone chirped and she checked it.

"Text from Jim," Montoya said, "We got an in on a bust Narcos are running on a Wonderland house."

"When and where?" Percy asked,

"This afternoon." Montoya said,

"All right, let's head back to the precinct. Run a little more down on those statements. See if we can't find something." Percy suggested,

"Better plan than anything else I got," Montoya shrugged,

---

"I don't what kind of fucking pull you have Montoya, but this is some deep, pure, bullshit." Detective Hennigan grumbled as he pulled on a flak vest.

"Keep bitching Hennie," Montoya said as finished strapping her own into place, "Besides, we already promised to let you and your boys run the show," Hennigan just grumbled in response, and Percy smirked. Finished with his own strap-up, he leaned back into the chair in the backseat of the suburban. They were a block down the road from what was unequivocally a trap house. They wouldn't be taking part in the actual raid itself. The detectives never were. That was a job for the SWAT team assigned to Narcotics. Instead, they would be waiting for the all clear, before getting sent in. They were promised first dibs on the suspects for interrogation.

Percy couldn't help but be a little disappointed. He missed the days where he was strapping up and getting ankle deep in the shit. He might have a deeply engrained sense of justice, courtesy of his heritage. But Percy was first and foremost a soldier. He was born and bred for battle. A weapon, a dog of war, meant to be pointed in the direction of the enemy and let loose. Sitting out of the action always left him feeling a little antsy. But he was working on rectifying that. He was making headway into getting his weapons certifications, and clearance to run with the SWAT boys on operations. It wouldn't be same as when he was in the teams, or when he was a centurion, but it would be enough for him.

Hennigan checked his watch, then his radio crackled to life,

"All units in position," Squawked the voice.

Hennigan held his hand to the receiver, "On your go,"

"Check,"

The doors to the utility vehicle beside them opened, and a squad made their way out. Percy watched, unintentionally reviewing the strike team as they moved to the house. They moved with precision and alertness. Unsurprising, as a number of them were former operators, or military in some form or another. They stacked up by the doors to the house. Percy watched as one of the strike teams moved around to the back of the house. There were a few moments where nothing happened. Then the other team must have checked in and announced they were in position, because an operator brought up a battering ram. There was a crash as the ram smashed through the door. The point man tossed in what looked like a flash bang, and the team moved in. They disappeared behind the door, and Percy lost visual on them. There was a three-minute window where it appeared as though nothing happened. Then, the radio came to life again.

"Building secure. Three suspects in custody. Hit the mother-load in here detective."

Hennigan nodded at Montoya, who was sitting the passenger seat, "All right Montoya, your show," It looked like it physically pained him to say it. Montoya rolled her eyes, and Percy chuckled, as he stepped out of the vehicle. They made their way up the street and into the house. It was an older building, had to have been built near turn of the twentieth century. It looked about as Percy was expecting it to. Clothes and food thrown onto the floor. His boots made a disgusting squelching sound every time they stepped, and seemed to stick slightly to the floor. The wallpaper was peeling, and the walls looked chipped. Immediately upon entering the home, Percy's nostrils burned and his face squished in disgust. It smelled like body odor, mixed with rotten eggs.

"Jesus," Montoya said, covering her nose and mouth with her hand, "What the fuck,"

"You get used to it," Hennigan said dismissively, as he strode into what looked like the living room.

Percy and Montoya shared a look, and followed after. In the living room were three men, all with their hands restrained behind their backs, and seated on the floor. There was a stack of foils like the ones they'd found in the trunk on the table. In the far corner, Percy could see what looked like a makeshift lab at the end of the room. A table was set up with large bowls, beakers, and other equipment stacked on top of one another. It looked like the men had raided a high school chemistry class.

"Your show detectives," Hennigan said, gesturing to the three men on the ground. Percy gave Montoya a look that told her that he wanted to take lead. She nodded and stepped back, and Percy approached the nearest man, who looked to be just on the other side of twenty. He shrank away as Percy leaned in close, and regarded him. The man stank of piss and vinegar. As though he hadn't bathed properly in days. He refused to meet Percy's eyes, and as Percy channeled his power, he could hear the man's heart hammering in his chest. He was terrified. This guy wasn't the boss here. So Percy moved away and approached the next man.

He was around the same age as the other producer, and he too shrank away from Percy. So Percy backed away from him as well. The third man, however, did not back down. He was around Percy's age. He met Percy gaze evenly, and his heartbeat was steady. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other two men slightly flinch away from the third. As though they were afraid of him. That made him the head docuhebag in charge. Kneeling down, Percy got face to face with the man,

"How's it going?" He asked,

"Fuck off," The man spat,

"Cute," Percy said, "I'm looking for someone, I think you can help,"

"I left your mother at her place last night, you should check there," The man snarled, and Percy had to force himself to squash the surge of anger that washed over him. Years of conditioning and training allowed him to keep his cool.

"Joke's on you, my mom's been dead for twenty years." Percy snarked back,

"Maybe I like 'em cold," He shot,

"Awe, that the only way you can get any action?" Percy said, and then man snarled and made to leap at him, but Percy calmly shoved him back in place. A couple of the operators moved to intercept but Percy stopped them. He was laying a trap, and he didn't want them to interfere. Percy needed to know if this guy had sold to their boy. Or if not them, someone else. He was going to use his abilities to do so, but he needed to make it look natural or else the others would become suspicious.

"Let's consider the position that you're in." Percy said, glancing around the room, "You've been caught in a trap house, with a felony fuck-ton of illegal narcotics. You'll be going away for a real long time. That is, unless you help me out."

"I ain't telling you who I'm working for," The man said, and Percy just laughed,

"Then it's a good thing that's not what I want to know," Percy said with a shake of his head, "I don't want your boss. He does," He gestured with his head to Hennigan, "What I want, is one of your buyers." The man looked confused for a moments before snorting derisively,

"So what, I help you, you get me out of this?" The man said with an eye roll.

"Nah," Percy said, "No amount of good will is going to get you out of here, Maybe I should clarify yeah? It's not about what I'll say on your behalf, but what I won't say."

The man looked confused, "The fuck is that supposed to mean,"

Percy laughed, "See here's the thing. I took one too many shelling's when I was in the service. My memory is kind of hazy and I got this bad problem where I can't stop myself from talking. I got some real loose lips, just ask my partner," He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Montoya. Taking her cue brilliantly, she sighed and nodded,

"He's right. Dumbass can't keep his mouth shut. He's always blabbing about things he shouldn't." She said in faux exasperation, and Percy just nodded solemnly,

"See, I'm scheduled to go over to gen-po in the morning, I'm visiting some folks. And I got this problem where I can't stop talking, and like I said, my memory is kind of hazy. In fact, I think I'm already starting forget what we've been talking about. Hey Monty, our boy here was just telling us all about where the Hatter is right?"

"That's right Metro," Montoya said, playing her unplanned part beautifully, "Sung like a canary for ya."

"Yeah," Percy nodded at her, "That's what I thought. I thought you were just ratting out your boy, and man, I just hope that I don't let it slip that you told us everything about it tomorrow in gen-po." He shook his head and closed his eyes as though severally depressed. The man's heart rate climbed considerably at that point, and Percy could feel the sweat beginning to accumulate at the back of his neck.

"Yo0-you can't do this shit. I want my goddamn lawyer," He said, shaking slightly where he sat. Percy cupped an ear, as though he were hard of hearing,

"Sorry, what was that? Did I mention that my hearing was going too? Did he just tell me the Hatter's name and home address?" He asked, turning to look at Montoya,

"Sure did," She said with a shark-like grin,

"That's what I heard," Hennigan said, giving Percy a feral grin of his own. Grumpy old asshole or not, Percy would have to thank Hennigan later for taking up the game.

Percy turned his attention back to the man on the ground. He looked petrified, and Percy had to fight to keep his grin off his face. And there was his door. Channeling the mist, he focused it into his next words, and influenced the man to be more compelled to do as Percy wished.

"Of course, if you had something else you wanted to tell me, something about one of your clients, maybe I'll forget all about this conversation." Percy said, and the air distorted around the man, visible only to Percy, as the mist compelled the man to comply with Percy's wishes.

"What do you want to know," The man said, slumping slightly, and Percy grinned in triumph.

"You've been selling bulk quantities of your product. Not just a couple of tabs, but you would have sold a shit ton of this stuff to one guy. Would have been a white-boy, about five-ten. Probably wearing a black hoodie and drove an all black sedan. Would have looked like an old cop car."

The man didn't meet Percy's eyes, but he nodded, "Yeah we sold to him. Guy was a fucking prized pig. Literally."

"What do you mean?" Percy said,

"Cause he wore a pig mask. Cartoon looking thing. Looked cheesy as hell but we never saw his face. He came by once a week and bought out damn near the whole fucking supply. He wasn't fleecin' it neither. We would know. He ain't been distributing it to the streets. I don't know what he wants with it, never asked, but he keeps buying more of it."

Percy nodded, and exchanged a look with Montoya, she inclined her head.

Standing up, Percy looked over at Hennigan. "They're all yours detective, have at it,"

"Wait," the man said, shaking somewhat, "You won't say anything right! I did as you asked, you're not going to say nothing right?"

Percy turned and smirked at the man, "Don't know what you're talking about, I'm not going to gen-po tomorrow." The man deflated somewhat, as the reality that he'd just been played washed over him,

"Have a nice day," Percy said, and he and Montoya left the trap house.

Notes:

Ok, so to just address something out the gate. I have not read the Apollo books, so I had no idea that there was a Meg from that series as well. So just to inform all of you, the character here, is not that character, because I didn't know that character existed. Sorry for the confusion, I literally just picked the name because it's a famous Greek name and I liked the sound of it.

Now onto the actual note, hope you liked the minor cameos! This arc deals pretty heavily with Percy's personal history and he is forced to grapple with a lot of his previous failings and past mistakes. So if you were hoping to learn more about Percy this time around, get excited because over the next few months, you're going to be learning a lot about our wayward detective! Anyways, let me know what you think, any theories or ideas you might be having about the story, or just say hey. Thanks again for all the love and support, you guys have been awesome! Like always, if you like this but haven't read any of my other works, give 'em a try you might like them as well. Until next week, same bat time, same bat channel. Stay safe, stay healthy, and I love you all!

Love,

LilDB

Chapter 16: Threats

They returned to the department with their new information and set about finishing up the days work. They made their way through the rest of the financial statements, only to come up with absolutely nothing at all. They knew that their suspect wore a pig-mask, which was tugging something at the back of Percy's brain but he couldn't figure out what it was. They eventually grew too frustrated and called it quits for the day.

Percy went home and changed into some more comfortable street clothes. While he was changing, he reached out to some old contacts and he got word of some of the old demigods in town. Some of the people who would be in the know. Percy had a rough plan of attack. Meg was a daughter of Demeter, a woodland goddess. Meg would have a natural, communal link with nature, and by extension, dryads. She would have gone to them for help. The only problem was that dryads were wood nymphs. Tree spirits. Which meant they needed trees. Something in short supply in a city like Gotham. So Percy was going to head to a bar; a bar where he knew that the bartender was a demigod like him.

Percy pushed open the door to the bar, and was welcomed with the sights, sounds, and smells of cheap whisky, cheaper times, and cigarette smoke. Percy eyed the large Black man behind the bar, it had been years since Percy had seen him, but Percy recognized him. Approaching the bar, Percy sat down, the bartender was busy cleaning a pair of glasses, it was slow inside, being a Wednesday and all,

"What's your poison?" He asked dryly, not looking up from his task,

Percy arched an eyebrow and spoke low, so his voice would be nearly lost under the music,

"Got any nectar and ambrosia?" He asked, and the bartender nearly dropped his glass. He looked up, meeting Percy's smiling face,

"Prefect…" He whispered out,

"Not anymore Steph," Percy said, "Retired, like you," He reached out, and gripped the man's around the elbow. Steph gripped Percy back, just as tight. Stephan Gilmore had been in the Second. A few years older than Percy. He'd been a corpsman, as a son of Apollo, and had saved Percy's life on more than one occasion.

"Gods be good. Prefect-I mean Percy, what are you doing here?" He asked, then leaned forward, "You're not working again…are you?"

Percy chuckled, "No, I'm not. Not like that anyway. Got a runaway. Found three of her friends outside my apartment the other day. Their friend ran away from camp, Greek, daughter of Demeter, you familiar?"

"Yeah, I know the one," Steph nodded, "So you're looking for tree nymphs then?" And Percy nodded, "Makes sense," Steph said, nodding to himself, "Best bet would be Gotham City Park. It ain't the forest by any means, but that would be the only place for like fifty miles that a nymph would post up." He looked thoughtful for a second, then tapped the bar, "Let me go make a quick call, I'll be right back." Percy gave him a thankful grin and made himself comfortable.

Someone sat down beside him, and Percy did his best to ignore them. But he had the feeling that they were watching him so he looked up, and was surprised to meet the furious gaze of Sarah Rosthein.

"Counselor," Percy greeted, putting on his fakest smile, "What can I do for you?"

"You have a lot of nerve," Rosthein said, her body literally shaking in rage,

"For what, exactly?" Percy asked, though he had a feeling he knew where this was going,

"For killing Romanji like that?" She shouted, slamming her fist on the bar. The few onlookers looked up at the commotion, but went back to their drinks. Percy arched an eyebrow,

"Why the fuck would I kill the only good link we had between Falcone and St. Cloud?" Percy asked sarcastically.

"Because just like the rest of your corrupt department, you work for that rat bastard," She seethed, and Percy just scoffed,

"Believe it or not, I'm not on the fucking take." He sighed and scratched behind his ear, "Though judging by the looks of the rest of my department, that ain't going to mean too much."

"You know, it's guys like you that are the whole reason I went to law school," She snarled,

"Guys like me?" Percy asked,

"Arrogant, corrupt, bastards. Murderers hiding behind a badge. Cowards who get a sliver of fucking power and authority, and think they can abuse everyone else as a result," She looked as though she were about to leap at him.

Percy snorted, and swiveled back to face the bar, "The irony of that statement is unbelievable," But she ignored him,

"How long did you wait before shooting him, huh? Was I even out of the fucking building? Did you beat him first? Play with your food a little?' She was winding up for a long one, Percy could tell, so he decided he was done. He could take being called a lot, but he wasn't about to be called a murderer.

"Yeah, all right, I'm just going to stop you there." Percy said, swiveling back to look at her, "Whatever narrative you've created in your own head about what happened, keep it, that's fine. But don't go throwing out accusations about me. Especially when I was nowhere near the precinct when he was murdered," He rested one arm on the bar and leaned a little closer,

"I was halfway across the fucking city. Fighting those fucking plants and trying not choke to death on Joker gas." Rosthein winced and leaned back a little,

"A cop shot him, yeah. And IA ran an investigation and shock of fucking shocks nothing came up. Decided he'd died as a result of a "Stray shot," accidentally fired during the surprise of the attack. So yeah, the department has been cleared. And there's not a damn thing we can do about it, and I'm not fucking happy about it. Piece of human trash or not, Romanji had a right to a trial and he didn't get it. He got a bullet, not because he deserved it, but because he was going to turn on Falcone. That's not justice. So don't come in here, preaching to me from that white fucking horse, and accusing me of killing a man in cold blood. There's a lot of trash in the department, but me and Montoya? We're clean." He leaned forward so he was right in her face,

"So don't you ever, ever, talk to me like I don't give a damn. Like I'm one of them. Because I'm sure as hades not." Steph returned from the back room, and arched a brow at Percy and Rosthein. Percy ignored it, and swiveled back to the bad and leaned forward. Steph leaned in and whispered into his ear,

"Just got confirmation, there's a group of them in the Park. Look for the tallest oak in the center. They'll find you." Percy nodded, and dropped a hundred on the table.

"Thanks brother," Percy said, clapping the man around the elbow, "I'll stop back around, soon."

"You too sir," Steph nodded, and without another glance backwards at Rosthein, Percy exited the bar.

"Detective!" Percy ignored Rosthein as she called out, "Detective Jackson, please wait!" The sound of heels on concrete caught up with Percy and he felt as Rosthein appeared beside him,

"Look, I'm sorry." She apologized, "That-that was out of line. I shouldn't have-"

Percy stopped, Rosthein stopped too as Percy rounded on her, "Look, I get it. The guy you represent ends up dead in a cell with a bullet in his brain, and the only people with the keys to the cage are cops. I get it. I'm pissed too. So apology accepted."

"That's it?" Rosthein asked,

"I don't have the time or energy to waste on something like this right now." Percy said, his tone heavy and exhausted, "I got an active kidnapping case and my niece has runaway from home."

"Oh…" She said, looking slightly thrown off, "Um best of luck…then."

Percy gave her a smile and left.

The park was empty, being as late as it was. It was the first time Percy had been to the little faux woodland are since his arrival to the city. It made him miss the actual woods. Percy had always loved the outdoors, which he knew made him odd considering his youth was spent in one of the biggest cities on the planet. But he had always felt at peace there, there was just something about being away from civilization that relaxed him. Nothing but the great outdoors and whatever gear he had with him.

He looked around as he wandered down the trail. He reached the crest of a small hill, when he spied his destination. At the edge of a trail was a large oak. It looked rather out of place in the otherwise completely fabricated forest. It was large, and healthy. Its bark a deep and rich brown, and its leaves a vibrant green.

Percy stepped off the path and approached the tree. He placed a hand against it's bark, and focused. It was lousy with divine energy; there was so much raw power emanating from the mighty oak that Percy was impressed he hadn't noticed its presence in the city before.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A voice asked. Percy removed his hand from the tree, and turned to look. A woman, a beautiful woman, maybe around Percy's age, with skin as green as fresh grass, and glowing violet eyes stepped out from behind the tree. She was dressed in some sort of make-shift gown of sticks, and grass. She placed a loving hand against the bark of the tree.

"Our power comes from these trees, you know?" She asked, though Percy was certain she didn't expect an answer, "They are infused with our own power. A bond unbreakable, and unchangeable. Once we bind ourselves to our chosen tree, we can never be too far removed."

"And if the tree dies, so do you," Percy finished, and the woman turned and smiled at him.

"Precisely," She said, "So, what can I do for the…legendary Perseus Jackson."

"Just Percy, please," He said with a smile, "And you are?"

"Déntro," She said,

"Fitting," Percy said, and she smiled at him, "I'm looking for someone,"

"Megara," Déntro said, "I suspected someone would be along in search for her," She looked him up and down, "Never did I suspect that it would be you. You certainly do meet the legends."

"Glad to meet the standard," Percy said, "Meg, she's going to do something stupid. I figured she came to you for help,"

"She did, and you are correct," Déntro said, "She came to us for aid in her personal quest. But we turned her away. We have been hurt by humanity to be sure, but it is not in our nature to seek out vengeance."

"Even though so many of you have died because of our deforestation?" Percy asked,

"They know not what they do," Déntro said simply, "It is simply their way. They march towards progress regardless of our wishes. Besides, we will be reunited one day," Well that was one way to look at things Percy supposed.

"What did she want? I gathered that she's trying to break Ivy out of Arkham but even she can't be so stupid as to think that'll be possible without help," Percy explained,

"She wished for our help in rescuing that false prophet of the earth," Déntro nodded, "But when we refused help. She said she'd be fine on her own. Said it had to be easy enough to find what she needed in Gotham."

"And what did she need?" Percy asked,

"Acacia powder, bay leaves, and calendula flowers," Déntro recited easily.

Percy swore. He recognized those herbs, and more specifically, he knew what they could be made into, "She's not trying to recruit Ivy, the damn fool is trying to control her!"

Déntro nodded at Percy, "She intends to grind the herbs into a dust of compulsion."

"Forces the intended victim into a trance where they bow to your every whim. Great, that's just…great." Percy finished. He groaned, and scratched behind his ear, "Don't suppose you know anywhere in town where someone could get all this crap?"

"Unfortunately, I do not." Déntro said, looking genuinely remorseful at not being able to assist Percy. Percy gave her a small smile,

"Thank you, Déntro, you've been very helpful." Percy said,

"Of course, lord Prefect," Déntro said. "Always a pleasure. Please come back and visit me again sometime," She blinked impishly at him, "I would love to lay with you,"

Percy just blinked at her. It was definitely the most forward come on he'd ever received.

"Yeah…sure," He said, and with that he turned left the small park. Twenty minutes later he arrived back in his apartment. He collapsed into his chair with a groan. He really wished that he had any kind of a network established in Gotham. Back in Metropolis, he knew where all the grim and ghoulies worked. Every legit magic shop, every water nymph masquerading as an oceanographer, he knew them all. But he had to start over, had to start making connections with people and figure out who the players in town were. But that would be for another day. He figured that if he didn't know where to get the supplies, chances were good that Meg had even less of an idea, which meant he had some time. He needed to figure out where she was camping out.

He opened his contacts list, and hit dial. Jason picked up after the third ring,

"Percy," He greeted, "What's up?"

"Making some progress on Meg, but I've hit a bit of a wall." Percy said,

"How can I help?" Jason asked,

"Need some more info on Meg. She got any mortal family?" Percy asked,

"No idea." Jason admitted and Percy sighed, "Ok…" Percy said slowly, "How about a last name? I can figure it out from there. Her father is mortal so he should be somewhere,"

"Smith," Jason said, And Percy screwed his eyes shut. Of course it would be the most milk-toast, white boy, bullshit name out there. It was going to be a nightmare wading through that mess to find out anything. Hopefully he'd get lucky and the son of a bitch actually went through with registering Meg's birth.

"All right," Percy said in exhaustion, "Thanks, I'll call you when I have her." There was a pause and Percy thought Jason was working up to saying something, but he must have decided against it.

"…Sounds good Percy, good luck," Percy ended the call, and was about to stand up and get ready for bed when his phone started ringing. Checking the I.D. he let out a frustrated groan when Montoya's name flashed across the screen. Accepting the call, Percy pulled the phone to his ear as he stood up and began retrieving his things. There was only one reason Montoya would be calling him so late.

"Let me guess, you're calling because Bruce Wayne just gave us both ten mil, and you're off to the Cayman's to live a life of luxury?" He joked, as he put the phone on speaker and began pulling his work clothes back on. Montoya snorted into the mic, and Percy thought he could hear her car's turn signal. She must have been already on the road,

"Yeah, and I'm running off with Ms. Universe," Montoya shot back, then her tone grew tense, "We got another one."

"Another body?" Percy asked, pausing halfway through buttoning his shirt,

"Yeah, patrol found it bout ten minutes ago. Called it in, and it made its way back up to Jim, who just called me." She explained.

"Where?" Percy asked, as he finished buttoning his shirt, and throwing on his discarded tie.

"The Pier, under the boardwalk." Montoya recited,

"Got it, be there in ten." Percy said. He threw his coat on, and slammed his pistol into his holster. He ended the call and left his apartment. It was going to be a long night.

---

Percy let out a snarl as his fist connected with the heavy bag. He'd been at it for the better part of a twenty minutes, and was finally starting to break a sweat. The magically enchanted weights around his wrist and his back were doing their job, and Percy willed their resistance to increase again. His body shivered for a moment as divine magic swam over him. The weight increased again and it took a second for his body to adjust. Shuffling his feet, Percy adjusted his stance, and dealt another series of quick blows at the bag. His arms, shoulders, and his back were starting ache, but it just drove him harder. He ducked, drove two quick jabs into the bag, shifted to the left, mimed ducking out of the way of another strike, and hammered the bag with another haymaker. He then repeated the exercise for another fifteen minutes.

His chest heaving, and his shirt sticking to him, Percy finally stopped his exercise, and perched himself down on a bench in the corner of the room. The night had not gone well, and Percy couldn't close his eyes without seeing the body…or what was left of it. The pattern had been broken, the body they found had been butchered. The tell-tale markings were there; there were stitching's around the arms and the legs and there had been a mask on his face. Emphasis on the word had. The mask he had been wearing had shattered. Or been cut off. Or something. That didn't really matter to Percy, because he was too preoccupied with the fact that the man's head had literally been cleaved in two.

They'd tried to canvass the apartment, interview the man's neighbors, but nothing. Nobody saw or heard anything. Like all of the other scenes they'd visited, there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. And Percy was ready to throw something through a window. They were no closer to finding this son of a bitch, and they now had four bodies on their hands. He rubbed at his eyes, he was getting exhausted. He hadn't gotten more than three hours of sleep pretty much all week, and he was starting to feel it. It was getting harder to concentrate.

"I can't decide if you're pissed, or just need to use the restroom," A familiar voice called out. Percy looked up, it took a second for his vision to clear and Dinah's face came into focus. She wasn't alone either, that kid from the Academy, Artemis, was there.

"You look like shit," Artemis snorted, crossing her arms. Dinah shot the girl a look, before turning a concerned look on Percy,

"Shouldn't you be in school?" He asked, and she arched an eyebrow,

"At six in the morning?" She asked, "Didn't know you took scholastic achievement so seriously?" Percy hadn't realized how early it was. He had an arrangement with Ted. Percy knew the passcode to get into the building, and in exchange, Ted got an extra grand from Percy.

"Artemis," Dinah chided before Percy could retort,

"She'd got a point though. Percy, you look exhausted, when was the last time you slept?" She asked.

Percy shrugged, "I dunno," He said heavily, leaning back in his seat, "Slept for like two hours a couple of days ago,"

Dinah sighed before turning a look on Artemis, "Give us a minute, go get changed." Artemis shot the older woman a look before slinking off to the women's locker room. Dinah hefted her bag off her shoulder and sat down on the bench next to him,

"I'm about to get a lecture, aren't I?" Percy asked, leaning back and resting his back against the wall,

"That depends," Dinah said, leaning back as well and craning her neck to look at him, "You need one?" Percy snorted but didn't say anything, "Didn't think so," She said and crossed her arms. "So, we can either do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way. Your choice,"

"Normally I'd say the hard way," Percy said around a jaw-breaking yawn, "But I'm too damn tired." He let out a heavy breath, and shot her a look, "This falls under client confidentiality, right?"

"You'd need to be my client first," Dinah laughed, "But if you're asking me not to say anything, you know I won't."

Percy gave her a small smile, "Yeah, I know." He took another steadying breath, "It's this investigation I'm working. I've got four bodies, one more probably on its way. We've got no credible leads. No witnesses. Nothing. We have nothing, and people are dying, and I'm stuck with my thumb up my ass just waiting for the next fucking body to drop."

Dinah didn't say anything for a moment, she just sat there and processed what he was saying. When he was done, she calmly placed a hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze. Percy almost didn't even notice the gesture,

"And to make matters worse, now my fucking niece has run away from home, and she's planning to do something stupid, and I can't find her either." Percy was so focused on himself that he didn't notice the way that Dinah's eyes widened and her body tensed for a second, before she managed to get control of herself. "And I haven't been sleeping because I'm running two active cases and have nothing to show for any of it…I just…sometimes I think…" He trailed off. He hadn't told anyone about that before, but things with Dinah were always a bit different. He didn't know when their relationship had developed into what it was, but somewhere along the line Percy and Dinah had taken their impromptu meetings at Ted's to have an off the books counseling session.

"You're questioning whether or not you're really cut out for any of this," Dinah said gently, "You don't think you're really made out to be doing what you're doing." She glanced down at Percy's hand, which was subconsciously rubbing at his branding on his forearm.

"You're a soldier," Dinah continued in a soft voice, "It's what you've always been. What you were raised to be. Maybe it was your parents, maybe it was something else, but you always thought you were supposed to fight. So you joined up, did your duty, and you fought. But things…things went south. Something happened, and you were discharged. Your duty was taken away, your sense of purpose was lost. You were a little aimless. So you found something to fill the void. You want to help people, you need to. It helps make it easier. The losses. The aimlessness. But you-you also have a deep-rooted sense of justice. You have this…pathological need for people to face justice, to right wrongs. Maybe it's part of why you thought you were meant to be a solider. It's often said that there is no greater honor or justice than serving your nation."

Percy just stared at Dinah as she spoke, his eyes wide. It was…uncanny how well she seemed to know him. How well she seemed to be able to pick his brain and understand what he was feeling and why he did what he did. Dinah continued speaking, either oblivious, or uncaring of Percy's internal thoughts,

"So that's why you decided to be a cop. If you can't fight, then you have to protect and serve, right? Well, you don't things by half, so when you tried to become a detective, you decided you were going to be the best damn detective you possibly could be. You probably graduated with honors, near top of your class. Top rankings coming out of the academy. You rose through the rankings quickly, and got your position as a detective faster than anyone. You do your job, and you do your job well. You try, you give a real damn. Which should be evident because if you didn't then you wouldn't be having this little chat with me," Percy smirked a little and she smiled back at him,

"So is there a point here that I'm missing, or are you just trying to flex a little,"

"Column A, column B." Dinah said with a chuckle, "What I'm saying Percy, is you got your head stuck up your ass,"

"Pardon?" He asked, confused,

"Whether you're even consciously aware that this is how you're thinking, you think that in order to do something, you have to be…preordained or something in order to do it. That your career has to come from some sort of-of higher calling. It doesn't Percy. You choose. No one else. This is your life. You call the shots, no one else. And no one else is deciding what you can or can't do but you. Right now, things suck. And that sucks but well, that's life. Sometimes it just sucks and you have to deal with that. It doesn't mean you aren't good at your job, and it doesn't mean that you aren't where you belong."

She grabbed Percy by the wrist and he looked at her. Her eyes met his, and if he didn't know better, he would say she was staring right through him. But she was right. He knew it. It was why he'd left the world of the gods years ago. To live his life, to be his own man, and for once in his entire life have some godsdamned personal autonomy. Just because he was having difficulties and facing a little struggle sure as the gods did not mean that he should just pack it in and call it quits.

"You're right. Thanks Dinah," He said appreciatively, "I-I really needed to hear that,"

"What are friends for Percy?" She said, smiling back at him. They stayed like that for a moment, before Percy's phone started to ring. Pulling it out, Percy saw that it was Hugo Strange. Wondering what the good doctor would want so early Percy gave Dinah a meaningful look. Taking her cue, she patted Percy on the leg, and headed out to the locker room to change. Answering the call, Percy pulled the phone to his ear,

"Morning doc," He greeted,

"Good morning, detective," Strange said, "I hope I did not wake you,"

"You're good sir," Percy said, playing with a water bottle, "Just getting a workout in. I take it you have something?"

"I do indeed. I believe you would call it a 'break,' in the case." Strange chuckled, "I believe I know what our killer does for a living. I would prefer to talk in person. When can you be at the station?"

Percy checked the time, and weighed how long it would take him to shower, change, and get down to the precinct. "Thirty minutes give or take," He finally said,

"Excellent, that will give me some time to alert detective Montoya and prepare everything. I look forward to speaking with you."

"See you then, doc," Percy said, and hung up. He got up, and went to the men's locker room. After a quick shower, he changed into his work clothes and headed out. Someone whistled as he walked out. Turning, he arched an eyebrow as he stared over at where the girl, Artemis, was wrapping tape around her fists.

"Look at you, you clean up nice for a pig," She snarked. Percy snorted and exchanged a look with Dinah who just rolled her eyes. Percy looked back over to Artemis,

"You can talk shit after you learn how to not telegraph a punch." He said, and Artemis spluttered as Dinah laughed. Giving his friend one last wave, Percy turned around and marched out of the gym. Nodding at Ted as he headed out.

Percy had to blink as he stepped out into the street, the sun was rising high into the sky and it was damn near blinding. Raising a hand to his face, his vision began to clear as he turned and made to head to his car, but stopped when someone grabbed him around the arm.

---

Dinah sighed as she changed. Percy Jackson was an enigma she couldn't quite figure out. Well, that wasn't entirely true she supposed. Her impromptu psych evaluation of him had been true enough. She'd gotten all of that from the brief talks she'd had with Diana and what she'd found on the internet. But he still confused her. All that power, and all that strength, and he was content to live a normal life. She could understand his desire for personal autonomy, if her life had been dictated by higher beings she'd crave independence herself, but it was clear he felt a strong urge to protect, to fight for justice. So why didn't he use his powers to help the greater good? It just didn't make sense to her.

Dinah sighed and pushed thoughts of Percy out of her head as she stepped out of the locker room, she glanced around the room, but she didn't see the man occupying her thoughts anywhere. She just Artemis who was fishing her tape out of her bag. She was having a bit of an internal debate. Percy had just unintentionally admitted to her that there was a rogue demigod loose in the city. Part of her was telling her that she needed to report it to Batman, Gotham was his city and he was…territorial. If there was a rogue superhuman roaming around the city, he really did deserve to know. But she also was rather certain that Percy was more than capable of finding the kid before she could do anything too foolish.

"You and detective hot pants done making eyes at each other?" Artemis asked, snapping Dinah out of her trance. Dinah just glared at the girl. For weeks now, Dinah had been trying to help the girl out. Get her adjusted to working on the right side of things and offer her someone she could rely on. But the damn girl was as stubborn as Oliver could be, which was more annoying since they weren't even related.

"You always this hostile to people who just want to help you?" She asked, and Artemis just stared at her incredulously, "What?" Dinah asked.

"Nothing," Artemis said wearily, as she went back to patching herself up. Dinah just shook her head as she climbed into the ring.

"Look at you, you clean up nice for a pig," Artemis said, and Dinah looked up. Percy had just come out of the men's locker room. He looked good in a suit. Then the weight of what Artemis just said hit her and she groaned. She met Percy's gaze and she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"You can talk shit after you learn how to not telegraph a punch." He said, and Artemis spluttered. Dinah didn't even bother to stop herself from laughing. Percy gave her a wave as he headed out the door.

"Don't start what you can't finish, kiddo." Dinah said behind her laughter. Artemis just glared at her, though the effect was immensely diminished by the slight flush to her cheeks. "All right, enough sulking, get in here and let's get started." Artemis grumbled, but did as she was bade and climbed into the ring. But before they could get started, Ted called out to Dinah.

"Hey, little-bird, got something you might want to see."

Sighing, Dinah started climbing out of the ring, "Start stretching," She called out to Artemis as she wandered over to Ted. "What's up?" She asked as she came level with the desk. In answer, Ted just pointed out the window by the door. Dinah turned, and her brow furrowed. She watched as a man was approaching Percy. He looked vaguely familiar. Blinking in a rapid sequence, Dinah brought her league database up. Scanning the man's face, she winced, as it came up as Marcus Wise. He was on the league's database, Batman had him down as one of the many corrupt detectives in the GCPD.

Percy must have been surprised, because he suddenly spun on the man. He caught Wise's hand and twisted it off of him, before grabbing the man from around the scruff of his shirt. Percy seemed to suddenly recognize the man because his eyes narrowed and he released his grip on Wise. Dinah tapped the communications bud in her ear, and blinked another sequence into her lenses. She was now picking up the audio from the interaction.

"Guess they don't call you Wise cause you're intelligent." Percy was saying, "You should know better than to just suddenly grab a man. Now, what do you want Wise, I'm due for a meeting."

Wise actually looked a little shaken by the interaction, but shook it off well enough. His stunned expression morphed into a scowl.

"Has Montoya talked to you?" He asked,

"Every day. Funny how that works, given that she's my partner and all." Percy snarked,

"You giving me lip boy?" Wise asked, stepping closer,

"The tough guy act would work better if you didn't look like you were about to piss yourself thirty seconds ago."

Wise snarled at him, but took a step back, and shoved a finger in his chest. "We got a way of doing things around here, hotshot. A way that works so everyone lives a little better. You catch what I'm saying?"

Percy looked like he genuinely couldn't think of a response to that, "You got some brass ones on you pal. Saying that shit to me."

Wise shrugged, "Only ones not on board are you, Montoya, and a couple of the patrols. But we'll get them to see reason sooner or later."

"Yeah, well best of luck with that pal," Percy said, "I'm not buying whatever bullshit you're selling."

"You would do well to listen to your superiors punk," Wise spat, "Either you get with the program, or you get taken off the board."

Percy paused and stared at him, "Are you threatening me?" He asked, and to Dinah's infinite apprehension, he sounded incredibly amused by the mere notion.

"Not a threat," Wise said with a shake of his head, "Just telling you how the game is played around here."

"Well maybe I don't feel like playing," Percy snarled, "So tell me, who're you grabbing ankles for? Marone? The Cartel? Falcone?" Percy must have seen something that Dinah hadn't because his eyes narrowed, "Ah, that makes sense. So were you the one to cap Romanji?" Again, Percy must have some way of knowing when the man was apprehensive, "Well then."

Percy stepped closer still, and Wise took a step back, but Percy kept advancing on the man until he was backed up to the wall of Ted's gym. Dinah unconsciously tensed her muscles, and she prepared to jump in just in case Percy went too far.

"Allow me to set the record straight. I don't have any family. Don't even really have friends. I got no one for you to threaten me with. So don't even try. You want to try and intimidate me, you come at me yourself. Go ahead and roll those dice, see what happens. But I promise, you had better bring enough guys to cover your scrawny ass. I don't give a damn if it's Falcone. The Mayor. Even the fucking Queen of England. You threaten me again." He grabbed the man around the lapels,

"And they will never find your body. And that is a threat. You can take that back to Falcone."

Right when Dinah was ready to intervene, she heard Percy release his grip on the man.

"Get the fuck out of my sight." Percy snarled, and the Dinah watched as Percy walked back into view, and he disappeared again down the street. Dinah saw Wise stumble off the wall. He watched Percy's retreating back for a moment, before he hurriedly got out his phone and dialed a number. Someone picked up after the third ring, but Dinah could only hear Wise's end of the conversation.

"Sir, it's Wise. Yeah, I just talked to him. He's not going to get on board. No sir, I think it's a lost cause. Said he'd-he'd kill me if I threatened him again." There was a long pause as Wise listened to the other end, "Yes sir. I'll gather some guys and we'll get it done tonight. Very good sir." Then the call ended, and Wise made his way up the street.

"Oh, that's not good," Dinah muttered.

"What did the cowboy do now?" Ted grumbled,

"Pretty sure he just got a hit ordered on him," Dinah muttered, as she blinked through her contact lenses and brought up Batman's communicator. It buzzed once before he answered,

"Go," Came the gruff voice on the other end.

"Just watched our new detective have a little run-in with Marcus Wise." Dinah said at once, not bothering with preamble.

"What happened?" Batman asked,

"Wise tried to get him on board with something. I'm guessing with whoever's payroll he happens to be on. Percy seemed pretty sure it was Falcone. Either way, Wise tried to threaten him."

"I'm guessing that didn't go well for Wise," Batman said sardonically, and Dinah arched an eyebrow at the unexpected levity from the Dark Knight.

"You'd guess right," Dinah said, "Percy threatened to kill him if he did it again."

Batman huffed, "Wise called Falcone then," he stated,

"Pretty sure he ordered a hit on Percy," Dinah confirmed, "Want me to keep an eye on our wayward godling?"

"Do it." He confirmed and Dinah nodded to herself before hesitating somewhat. She was still fighting with herself whether she should tell him about the rogue demigod running around in Gotham. Unfortunately, the decision was made for her.

"What is it?" Batman demanded, and Dinah fought off a sigh,

"Percy and I were talking, before he left Ted's. He mentioned that his niece, had runaway from home. That he was trying to find her when he wasn't working some other case. Which reminds me, is there a serial killer running rampant in Gotham right now?"

"Jackson and Montoya are on it, get anything else from him about this rogue demigod?" He asked, deflecting with as much subtlety as a brick through a window. Dinah rolled her eyes, and Ted snickered.

"No, he didn't. Get probe too far without showing my hand."

Batman sighed into the mic, "I'll check with Diana. See if she's heard anything. For now just stay on Jackson. We know he can defend himself but I don't want him adding to the bodies."

"Understood," Dinah said, "But seriously, what's this about a serial kill-" the line went to static.

Dinah just gaped.

"Dick,"

Notes:

AN: The plot doth thickens! I don't have a whole lot to say on the chapter, overall I'm pretty happy with it so I'll just leave it at that. Got some interesting stuff in store for all of you and I'm really interested to see what you think. It's a direction I'd like to explore in more depth, but I want to see what your reactions are first, so get excited for that! Also small change of plans, totally lost all desire to write Protector for the time being, I'll get back to it eventually, but not right now. So I'm writing for Half-Blood instead, so that'll probably be the next one to get written. Might actually try and even get the whole story finished so I can put the whole thing up for all of you. I have everything planned out for the most part, so I think that's what I'm going to try and do. Anyhoo, that's all I got for ya, so I'll leave it here. Thanks again for all the love and support folks, ya'll have been incredible. Stay safe, stay healthy, and I hope you a great start to the week.

Chapter 17: A Close Call

Percy was in a rather foul mood as he entered the station. He'd lost his cool against Wise, and he knew that there was going to be some form of blowback coming his way. It was only a matter of time before someone came knocking for him. But he would worry about some wannabe mafiosos later. For now, he was far more concerned with seeing Strange and figuring out what the man found so interesting. He pushed his way into the ops room, to see that Montoya was already inside, but Strange was still getting whatever it was he had together.

"Hey," Montoya greeted as she stared down the transcript of their interviews. Percy grunted a greeting and collapsed into his chair. She glanced up, and her eyes narrowed. "What's got you so fussy." She asked,

Percy looked at her, "Had a little run-in with Wise." Montoya put her files down and gave Percy her full attention,

"What did he want?" She asked. Percy snorted, and took a sip from his thermos.

"Told me that I needed to 'get on board,' with the program." He said,

"And what did you say?" Montoya asked, she was scrutinizing him very closely.

"I told him where he could shove his offer." Percy said simply. Montoya continued to stare at him for a moment, no doubt looking to see if there was any kind of a lie there. Finally feeling satisfied, she nodded.

"You're going to need to be careful," Montoya said, "Falcone has the entire precinct in his pocket. He won't be happy with you not being on board with things."

"I can take care of myself," Percy said,

"I know that, Metro, but these guys can be good. Car-bombs, poison, finding and killing everyone you give a damn about. These guys don't play by fair. They will do anything to get you out of the picture." Montoya explained,

"You don't seem too worried, and you got to be damn near top of their little hit-list." Percy observed,

"Because I have the commissioner of the damn department on my speed dial among other…friends." Percy could read between the lines there, "My point is. They won't touch me because they know what'll happen to them if they do. You on the other hand? You might as well be open season for these bastards. I like you Metro, just do me a favor and don't die on me yet."

Percy chuckled and crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, "Don't worry about little old me Monty. It's like I said, I can take care of myself."

The door to the room opened and Strange bustled inside, "Ah, detectives, you're early. That's excellent." He seemed incredibly excited. He deposited his bag on the table. Unzipping it, he began rifling through its contents for a moment before pulling out two manila envelopes. He passed the files over to Percy and Montoya and Percy opened it. It was a full psychological profile of the bastard behind the killings, as well copies of the case notes and photographs from the latest scene.

"So, the latest killing gave me a lot of new data to work with," Strange said in excitement, and Percy couldn't help but be a little put off by the sheer excitement the man was exhibiting at the loss of human life.

"All right…what do you got for us?" Percy asked,

"Look at the way the body was butchered." Strange said, almost happily, "Rage. Pure and unadulterated rage. Look at the way the body was hacked to pieces. Look, look, look." He said pointing at the dismembered body in the profile.

"Yeah doc, we remember. Can we, um, move it a long a little please?" Montoya said, looking a little queasy. Strange looked a little annoyed that she wasn't as excited as he was, but he acquiesced.

"Does the way it was hacked apart look familiar to you? And look at the puncture wound on its back, what is that?" He asked,

"Looks like it was made a by a meat-hook." Percy observed, looking at the picture.

"Precisely, detective. A meat-hook." Strange said happily, "And look once more at the way the body was hacked apart. The limbs were all dismembered. Dismembered with a very strong, and very sharp knife. And then there is the way that the was body was strung up. What does that suggest to you,"

Percy narrowed his eyes again as he looked at the picture. The answer came to him at the same time that Montoya said it,

"They were strung up like meat in a butcher's shop." She said,

"Exactly!" Strange clapped happily, "So our guy is a butcher then?" Percy asked,

"Yes detective, I believe he is." Strange nodded, "All right," Montoya nodded, "So you're thinking that our boy here runs a butcher's shop. Think that's how he picks his targets?"

"I do," Strange nodded,

"Ok," Percy said slowly, "So we need to go back over the financial statements and see if any of them all stopped at the same butcher's deli then." He frowned, "Don't remember seeing anything like that in the records though," He muttered, as he marched over to a small stack of files in the corner of the room. Picking up a file near the middle of the stack, he pulled it out and began looking through it.

Percy combed through the file again when he spotted something. The victim had been identified as Markus Henry, he had been twenty-seven, and like the others single. No one ever had a bad thing to say about the man and he had been very healthy. He'd been an iron-man champion three years running. Percy suddenly looked up as something clicked for him. He stood from the table and strode around to the stack of files on the other side. Opening the Kirkpatrick file, he scanned the contents for a moment and then he found what he was looking for. He then repeated the process with all the other files on the victims on the table.

"Metro, what's going on?" Montoya asked, "You got something."

Percy looked up, his eyes wide. "Yeah," he said, "I think I do." He strode from the table and over to the whiteboard. Picking up a marker, he began writing on the board. When he was done, he capped the marker and stepped away, and tapped the board with his hand.

"Champion marathon runner. An award winning personal trainer. A triathlete. And an iron-man winner. All four of our dead victims were at the peak of physical health. All top of their games in their respective competitions. Physically, they were-"

"Perfect," Strange whispered, and Percy nodded. Montoya gave Percy a sharp look, as she connected the dots.

"This guy is targeting people who are physically in as perfect condition as possible. Because they'd be the perfect hosts for his little experiment. The ultimate culmination of what humanity can achieve."

"Exactly," Percy said, "We need to start looking up whoever has been winning literally anything. Weight-lifting, boxing, swimming, beauty pageants. If it involves physicality and has a winner, we need to find out the who and the what."

"I'll send it out. Get some patrols working on digging something up." Montoya said,

"Whoever we find, they get a detail. Don't tell our potential vics." Percy said quickly,

"You want to level a trap," Montoya said, and Percy nodded,

"Let this guy slip up. Have him go after someone and have our boys waiting in the wings." He explained, "While you do that, I'll start putting together the number of butchers shops within a mile of each of the victim's houses. See if I can't put together a connection."

Montoya nodded, "We're closing in on him, now let's put this nightmare to an end."

---

Percy leaned back in his chair and stretched. His back popping and cracking, and he let out a groan of delighted satisfaction. His back and neck were sore. He checked the clock and he sighed. It was ten at night. Montoya had left for home hours ago. They'd managed to dig up a number of potential victims, and each of them unknowingly had a patrol escort everywhere they went. Percy had managed to dig up the local butcher shops, which was unfortunately completely unhelpful, because there had to be damn near fifty of the damn things in the general vicinity of the attacks. But Percy wasn't deterred. They knew it was only a matter of time before they caught up or the bastard slipped up again.

Unfortunately, Percy's work didn't end when Montoya left. He began a full search on the background of Megara Smith. He was in luck. Her father in fact had registered Meg's birth when she was dropped on his doorstep. She had an older sister, mortal he presumed, that lived in Gotham. Some kind of high-end jeweler. She was off in the Caymans at the moment on a honeymoon with her new husband. She did, however, have an apartment in town for when she was back in Gotham.

Percy threw on his coat and headed out to his car. The parking for the One-Seven precinct was a parking garage attached to the main building. For security purposes, there was no entrance from the garage to the main building, so Percy had to walk outside and into the garage to reach his car. As he stepped into the garage, he became immediately aware that he wasn't alone. He didn't stop moving, because he didn't want to alert them to the fact that he was alert to their presence, but he removed his sport coat, and shoved it over his over the shoulder carrying bag. He then unstrapped his shoulder and waist holsters, before he replaced his coat. He counted at least six bodies, all male, ranging around their mid-twenties to early thirties. Most were well built and their musculature spoke to strength, and all of them were congregating in the shadows a few feet from his car. Conveniently, the lights directly opposite Percy's car had all somehow burnt out at the same time, bathing the area in shadow. Percy's eyes shot over to the shadows on the eastern side of the garage, where Percy could see another person was rapidly approaching.

The new arrival, unlike the others, was decidedly female. She had an athletic build, and she moved with a precision and skill that spoke to countless of hours of experience. Percy was certain that she didn't work with the others, she had too much skill; and whereas the others simply held themselves with quiet aloofness of those who thought they were powerful she truly was powerful. Percy had an idea of who the mystery woman had to be, but drove her from his mind. He had other priorities.

He approached his car, turning his back on the men in the shadows. He knew they weren't there to simply shoot him, there were too many for this to be a simple hit. They were here to "put him in his place," to make him see reason. Problem for them though, because many of these men likely wouldn't live long enough to regret their mistake. Under different circumstances, Percy would have simply turned and opened fire. Not even the cameras would normally be a problem. But there was the matter of his other intruder. She was moving far too much for Percy to be able to use the mist to put her down. That and Percy had been using the mist far too much the past few weeks, and Percy didn't want to become reliant on it to solve his problems. He would use it in the defense of others, and to protect innocents if he had to, but he wouldn't use it in the defense of his own life. He had sworn off using his abilities for himself. He would only use them if he had to, and even then, only if it meant saving the life of someone innocent. It was why he didn't feel bad about using them when on duty. His job meant that he was always working to find and protect civilians, and that was enough justification for him. But to protect himself from some two-bit thugs? He had too much pride for that.

Percy took a steadying breath. In for ten seconds, then out for ten seconds. It worked for getting his nerves under control. When he felt he was ready, he placed one hand on the roof of his car, sitting close enough for a quick draw on his shoulder. He placed his other hand on the hood, near his hip for another quick draw. He would wait for them to make the first move. To make an intimidating move. And then it would be over before they could even register just who they'd fucked with.

"So," He said loudly, "Are we gonna do this, or are you just gonna sit there with your hands on your dicks?"

---

Percy's job, Dinah decided, was far more boring than she ever imagined. For as much as television dramatized law enforcement, it was a lot of just sitting around, pouring over paperwork. To make matters worse, he was even staying late. To work on what, she didn't know. She let out a bored sigh, as she placed her chin in her hand. She understood why she was there, she even agreed to it to an extent. Percy was dangerous. He wasn't the type to let loose on innocent civilians, but he was certainly not the type to pull any punches on anyway who bade him ill will. Bodies would start piling up, which was the last thing Gotham needed.

Percy was not a cape. He was a soldier. He didn't show restraint when faced with a threat, it just wasn't who he was or how he was trained. Dinah had spent some time with Diana, learning about demigods and the kind of training they went through. They were trained, especially the Romans, to kill. To put their opponent down as quickly, and efficiently as possible. They were machines of war, and Percy was apparently the best of the best. A dog of war, a weapon to be wielded against his enemies.

Dinah was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the sound of motors in the parking garage. She was on the office building across the street from the precinct, which provided excellent coverage of both the precinct and parking garage attached to it. Dinah watched as a pair of black SUV's pulled into the garage. Blinking a sequence into her lenses, and she got a telescopic view of the garage. She watched as the cars pulled onto the same floor as Percy's car. She watched as six men piled out of the vehicles. Two of them walked over to under a pair of lights over their vehicles, and shot them out with a pair of silenced pistols, and the entire area fell into darkness.

Standing up, Dinah began stretching. Any questions about the good intentions of the men were long gone, and Dinah could feel a fight coming. With her joints sufficiently limber, she began working her way down the building. Alternating between jumps and a specialized grappling hook courtesy of Batman, she very rapidly made her way to the parking garage. An alert appeared in the corner of her lenses, as she got an image of Percy walking out of the precinct.

Her heart began to beat a little faster, and she increased her pace. She watched as Percy hesitated for a second, and his eyes narrowed, as he glanced right over at where the men were hiding. Once more, Percy seemed to know exactly where someone was, when he shouldn't have been able to see them. Dinah remembered Diana mentioning something about how Percy's control of water was unheard of, and he was rumored to be able to see the water in someone's body, which explained how he knew where the bad guys were. He removed his jacket and unlocked his holsters before replacing the coat.

He seemed to be readying himself for whatever confrontation was coming their way. His eyes glanced in her direction, and Dinah felt her heart lurch slightly. Reaching into a pocket in her jacket, she grabbed her mother's old mask and tied it around her face. She didn't think Percy would be naive enough to not recognize her, just because she wasn't wearing a wig. She paused as she positioned herself directly behind the men, she was perched on the ledge of the garage, with the ramp behind her.

Percy was placing his hands on the car, they were positioned in such a way that he could quickly draw on both of his weapons if the need were to arise. Dinah felt the familiar surge of adrenaline surge through her as she got ready, she only hoped Percy didn't do something too stupid.

She was wrong.

---

The six men seemed somewhat surprised by his sudden outburst, but the collected themselves well enough and approached. Percy watched, craning his neck to get a look at the men. The lead man was probably the oldest of the group. A man in his mid-thirties, with a dark beard and dressed in a well-made peacoat, complete with matching fedora. Percy snorted.

"Who're you supposed to be, Elliot Ness and the Untouchables?" Percy laughed,

"Heard you were a bit of a clown," The man said, pulling out a large and heavy looking wrench from his coat, "We have enough clowns in this town though." Percy barked out a laugh and turned back away from the men,

"One of our friends tried to give you some advice earlier," The man said, and Percy rolled his eyes, "You were really rude to him. Hurt poor Marcus' feelings."

"Gimme some time and he won't be feeling much of anything anymore," Percy said. He was getting annoyed, he had things to do, and he didn't have the energy to waste his time on this. But he couldn't act yet, not until these guys made some show of a real threat.

"You don't seem to understand the situation you're in son," The man said, "You've upset the order of things. You're pushing buttons you ought not to be pushing." The man must have motioned for something, because several feet started moving in Percy's direction. His adrenal glands went into overdrive, and the familiar and comforting feel of his blood pounding in his ears threatened to overwhelm him.

"It's time you learn your place in the pecking order," The man said,

"Oh ho, ominous," Percy scoffed,

"Boys, teach him what happens when you cross one of ours," The man ordered, and Percy heard the rustle of fabric. Percy felt his muscles tense, as his opportunity came. One of the men put his hand on Percy's shoulder, and Percy moved. The world seemed to start moving in slow motion, and he spun, moving his hands to his shoulder and hip holsters simultaneously. His weapons were halfway out of his holsters as he turned around, and he dropped to one knee. But his weapons never made it out of their holsters. A high-pitched wail, like a banshee only far stronger, blasted through the parking garage. Percy's hands left his weapons as they instinctively went to his ears.

Looking up, he watched as four bodies were sent sailing through the air. The scream seemed almost to work as a concussive blast, hitting with the power of truck. A woman, clad in dark clothing hopped just into view, she landed a pair of sharp and rapid fast jabs to the pressure points of one of the men's sides, and he fell to the ground in a heap. She turned, grabbed the other man by the arm, and dislocated his shoulder, before throwing him violently to the ground.

Percy got shakily to his feet, at the same time as one of the other men, he charged unsteadily forward, and Percy intercepted him. His ears still ringing, and the world spinning around him, Percy buried a fist in the thug's stomach. He doubled over, as spittle dribbled from his mouth, and he collapsed. Percy stumbled as a hand gripped him around the back of the jacket, and yanked him out of the way of an incoming baseball bat. The bat hit nothing but air, and Percy stumbled forward. Grabbing the front of the bat, he rammed the handle into the chin of the guy holding it, who yelped in pain and stumbled back. The woman launched a spinning heel kick into the stumbling man's stomach and he fell to the ground.

The garage fell silent, and Percy placed his hands on his knees, and tried to get his world to stop spinning. After a few seconds of panting and labored breathing, his vision refocused, and he saw a pair of dark black leggings attached to what Percy could have sworn was a leather wrestling singlet. Standing upright, Percy arched an eyebrow.

"That shit," He panted out, "Sucks,"

Black Canary had the audacity to smirk, "I toned it down a bit for you, wouldn't have wanted you to burst an eardrum." When she spoke, her voice came out slightly modulated, and sounded a bit distorted.

"Gee, thanks," Percy said sarcastically, "And thanks for the assist I guess. But, I had that covered,"

"You were going to kill them," She said, placing her hands on her hips,

"And?" Percy asked, crossing his arms,

"And you don't see the problem with that?" She demanded,

"Only problem I see, is that I had the opportunity to remove six pieces of shit from Gotham, and you stopped me." He said,

"I stopped you from murdering six men," She snapped,

"Six men who were planning on working me over until I decided to become Falcone's little toy," Percy snapped back, "Why're you making such a big deal of this, they came after me didn't they? Or did I miss the part where I tracked them down and threatened them?"

"That's not what was going to happen here and you know it," Canary said, "You were goading them. Look at where you were positioned. Right under a security camera. You waited for them to make the first move. You were positioned so you could draw on your weapons easily and quickly. You wanted them to attack you,"

Percy shrugged unconcernedly, "Either they come for me and I put them down, or they go after someone who can't defend themselves."

"And what about doing things the right way? Making sure someone who does wrong faces justice?" She demanded, and Percy laughed,

"Bit of a difference between catching a serial killer and blowing away some gangbangers who think they're the next Capones." He said, as he walked over to his car, and perched himself on its hood. Crossing his arms he frowned at her, "So how long have the capes been keeping tabs on me," It was an obvious deflection, but Canary seemed to run with it anyway.

"Batman has been keeping tabs on you since the Auction," She said, "He wasn't too pleased to find out that a demi-"

"Stop," Percy said, raising his hand in the air, and she looked at him in confusion, "Names have power, saying that might as well put up a neon sign saying that one of my kind is here. Draws monsters in for miles. I'm protected, but any others of my kind that are in the city won't be." He sighed, and scratched behind his ear, "Diana told you, then." He said.

"Among other things," Canary said, before pausing. She regarded Percy for a moment, like she wanted to ask a question but she wasn't entirely sure how. Percy took the time to scrutinize her, there was something familiar about the woman, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

"Why don't you use your powers?" Canary finally asked.

"Powers?" Percy asked,

"Diana told me about all the things you did. What you can do. You could have taken these schmucks in a second. Flooded the entire garage, burst all of their blood vessels at once, any of it. You just sat back and were content to fight like a normal man. A normal man, albeit with some enhanced bits and pieces but that's about it. And it's clear that you care about humanity, you care about fighting the good fight. About protecting people, so why not use the abilities you have to do that? To fight and protect?"

Percy couldn't help himself, he laughed, and it seemed to catch her off guard.

"You really don't get it, do you?" He said,

"So explain it to me," She said,

"Ah no, no, no," Percy said, "I got one woman acting as my personal shrink, I don't need two." Something flashed across her face, but she smothered it quickly.

"C'mon, satisfy my curiosity a little. I did just stop you from committing mass murder." She said with an obnoxious little smirk. Percy didn't know why he was even entertaining this, he could just get in his car and leave. He knew that she wouldn't try and stop him, but he didn't. He couldn't quite explain why, but he just didn't want to.

"Ok" He said, "Fine. You want the skinny. Here it is. These powers, these…abilities. They're a damned nightmare. I get too sad? I cause a tidal wave. I get too mad? Earthquake. You even understand what that's like? To literally have to keep a lid on it at all times or risk sinking the damn Eastern Seaboard? Of course you don't, because it's absurd. These power? They aren't some kind of gift, meant to be used to help the innocent and safe lives. They're weapons of war, meant to be used on the enemy, and to obliterate anything in my path." He scoffed and spat onto the ground, "These days, they're just a constant reminder of what I am, of what I've done. And I'd like to do everything I can to forget that thanks."

"And what have you done that's so bad?" She asked, but Percy was done for real now. Just talking about it had brought up problems that he hadn't had to deal with in years.

"None of your business. Are we done here?" He asked, and his attitude and change in demeanor must have been telling, because she relented.

"We should call this in," She noted, idly gesturing to the bodies on the ground.

Percy sighed and nodded, "I'll deal with this," She gave him a strange look, "What? You got nothing better to do with your evening than to sit here with me waiting for the paddy-wagon?" As if on cue, someone must have called her, because she raised a finger to her ear,

"Copy that, I'm on my way," She said to the person on the other line.

She gave Percy one last meaningful look, before she turned and ran out of the garage. Shaking his head, Percy pulled his phone free of his pocket and dialed 9-1-1.

"This is detective Jackson, badge number one-seven-five, got some boys here who need a ride."

---

Craig Thompson took a sip from his coffee. Of all the duties he hated to be assigned to, protection details were far and away the worst. More often than not, absolutely nothing happened, and they were stuck staying awake all night babysitting some schmuck. He had thought they had at least hit the jackpot when they were assigned to the pageant winner, but they hadn't seen hide nor hair of the woman since they started. He didn't know who he was more annoyed with, the guy they were supposed to be looking out for or the fucking detectives that had ordered the detail in the first place.

His unit was always getting stuck with doing the grunt work for the detectives. They were always the ones stuck dumpster diving, or pounding pavement, and every other stupid thing the detectives wanted. Not like it ever did any good, hell, the lead detectives who ordered the details didn't even know who they were supposed to be looking out for. Middle-age white guy, around six-feet tall and a buck eighty? With that description they were better looking at half the damn city.

He felt as something tapped him on the thigh, and Thompson looked over at his five-year partner, Deveon Williams, who was staring at a car driving up the road. Following his partner's gaze, Thompson watched from their unit, as the car slowed down and stopped on the road beside the apartment complex. The man couldn't see their unit, hidden as it was in the back of a parking lot, hidden in the shadows of a broken lamppost. Thompson and Williams both pulled binoculars up to their eyes, as they watched the car. They hadn't been told what the car the suspect would be driving; Thompson suspected it was because they didn't know what it was he was driving, but they did say that whatever he was driving was likely to be stolen.

Something stirred in his stomach, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. There was something fishy about this,

"Hey," He said in a soft-voice to his partner, "You got a look at that plate?" Williams took a second, before he nodded,

"Yeah, yeah I got it. Want to run it?"

"Yeah," Thompson said, booting up the computer on the dashboard, "Got a feeling about this one,"

"Got it," Williams said,

"Send it," Thompson ordered, and Williams read off the plate. With each letter or number, Thompson punched it into the computer. After the plate was in the system, it took a second before it came back with a result.

"Stolen," He said, sharing a look with his partner. "Keep an eye on him," He ordered, and Willaim's nodded. With his body suddenly humming with energy, Thompson reached out and grabbed the radio.

"Charlie-One-Seven-Six" He said into the mic,

"Charlie-One-Seven-Six go." Answered dispatch,

"Got a possible hit on suspect at protectee's location on 11th, requesting immediate additional units."

"Acknowledged," Dispatch replied after a moment of silence, "Additional units on their way to your location now."

"He's moving," Williams said, and Thompson swore and pulled his own lenses back to his face. He watched as a man, short of six feet and around one hundred and eighty pounds, stepped out of the car. He was dressed all in black, and Thompson couldn't get a good look at his face. Without having to say anything, Thompson and Williams both stepped out of the car and drew their weapons. The hurried across the darkened lot and into the dimly lit apartment complex.

They knew where the protectee's room was on the fourth floor. They climbed the stairs in a hurry, and Thompson whirled around the bannister on the fourth floor, with his weapon level. Scanning the hall, he could see it was empty. When Williams tapped him on the shoulder, they began creeping down towards their protectee's door, checking the numbers on the apartments as they went. When they reach 412, Thompson stopped and pointed, the door to the apartment was cracked open slightly, but it was still dark inside. Exchanging a look with Williams, Thompson pushed the door open and crept into the entry hallway. He could hear the sound of a struggle coming from a nearby room, and he abandoned all pretenses of subtlety and charged through the apartment. Finding the bedroom door was open, Thompson flicked on his flashlight pointed his weapon past the open window and over at the moving mass at the bed while shouting, "GCPD, hands where I can see them!"

The light from the flashlight illuminated a man in the bed. He was straddling the waist of the girl in the bed, whose features were obscured by a towel that seemed to be soaked in something. But that wasn't the most alarming thing about the man. It was the horrific cartoon-looking mask of a pig. It was smiling, in an oddly horrific way at them. He slowly raised his hands into the air,

"Grab the towel," Thompson ordered, "Get it off her face,"

He wrapped his hand around the towel, and lifted it off her face. Thompson was relieved to see her throat wobble slightly. Williams began inching forward toward the man, his hand steadily replacing his gun in his holster and retrieving a set of cuffs. When he was within only a foot of the man though, he threw the towel on Williams, who yelped in surprise. Thompson tried to get a shot off, but Williams' body was in the way of the shot. Thompson growled and tried to maneuver to get a good enough shot. The man was scrambling out of the window and Thompson opened fire. It clipped the man in the arm, and he screamed in pain, but didn't stop his forward momentum. He had already been halfway through the window when Thompson's shot connected. The momentum caused by the shot only served to expedite the man's escape, as he was sent careening through the open window.

There was a tremendous crash, followed by another yelp of pain, and then the sound of someone running. Thompson and Williams maneuvered through the darkened room and approached the window, their weapons drawn. But it was too late, by the time they reached the window and looked down, the man had already disappeared. Sighing in frustration, Thompson shared a look with Williams.

The detective's probably weren't going to be too thrilled with them.

Notes:

Things are getting interesting! A leap in progress in the case, and Dinah keeps Percy from slaughtering a bunch of wannabe thugs. If you were hoping to see Percy just wreck shop, don't worry. I got something planned down the road which showcases exactly what Percy can do, and powerful he is. Hope you're excited as we're starting to ramp up the intensity here!

Thanks as always for the love and support, you all have been awesome! If you've read and like this story, but haven't read any of my other works, you should check them out. They're fun and I like to think they're different enough to be a breath of fresh air for you.

Until same time next week, hope you have a wonderful start to the week, and stay safe and stay healthy.

Love,

LilDB

Chapter 18: And the Award Goes To

It took about an hour before Percy had been able to free himself from his colleagues and he finally managed to get back into his car. Part of him wanted to just go home and sleep. It felt as though he hadn't slept in days. But Meg was still floating around somewhere, and while some of the ingredients she needed were hard to come by, it likely wouldn't take too long before she got what she wanted. So he left the precinct and made his way over to the apartment complex where Meg's older sister sometimes resided.

The apartment was an upper-crust complex, in the nicer part of downtown complete with a gate guard.

"Something I can help you with officer?" The guard asked as Percy flashed his badge. Percy reached into his coat pocket and withdrew the photo of Meg.

"She been in here recently?" He asked. The older man squinted as he took a look at the photograph,

"Yeah, she's Olivia's sister. She's been staying up in her apartment for the last few days. Said she was on a break from school or something." He rolled his eyes, "Hasn't been here all day though. She a runaway then?" He asked and Percy nodded. The guard let out a snort, and lifted the gate for Percy,

"Good luck officer," He said with a tip of his cap. Percy gave the man a thankful smile, and drove into the lot. He parked the car in an open space, and found the apartment on the first floor with relative ease. He didn't feel anyone on the inside, and after throwing down a veil of mist to hide him from mortal eyes, he pulled out his lockpicks, only to pause and frown,

"Fuck," He muttered to himself, the doors were locked with electronic locks, and couldn't be picked.

Sighing in annoyance, Percy decided he was over doing things the proper way. Trusting in his mist-veil, Percy leaned his shoulder into the door, and with a minor use of his abnormal strength, he broke the lock of the door. Pushing the door open, Percy strode into the very nice-looking apartment. The furniture alone probably cost more than what Percy paid in rent in an entire year. He walked through a small hallway into a beautiful and lavish living room, there was a large flatscreen against the wall, a small bar by the kitchen, and an enormous sofa against the wall. In front of the sofa was a small glass table, and on the table was a smattering of collected herbs. Percy recognized bay leaves and calendula flowers, but saw no sign of the acacia powder. Not a surprise, of the herbs needed, it was by far the hardest to come by, but that didn't mean that Percy couldn't make Meg's life a little more difficult. Percy grabbed a waste bin and placed it by the counter, then he jogged back down to his car, and grabbed an old matchbook. Once back in the apartment, he disabled the smoke detector and set about collecting the leaves into the bin. When all the herbs were collected, he lit a match and threw it into the bin. In a matter of moments, the plants went up in flames and dark smoke started pooling around the room.

He was torn about what he was meant to do next. The girl had to come back to the room at some point. But he didn't know when she would even be back, and while he could stay the night in the hopes of catching her, he would much rather sleep in his own bed. Sighing, he reached into an inner pocket of his coat and withdrew a piece of chalk. Walking over to a painting on the wall by the front door, Percy removed the picture from the wall, and inscribed a small sigil with the chalk. Pressing his palm to the symbol, he channeled a bit of his divine will into the symbol, and it glowed brightly for a moment. The glow disappeared, and Percy replaced the painting.

It was a relatively simple enchantment, one he'd learned a few years previously. It was simply an alarm of sorts. When someone entered the apartment and passed by the marking, it would alert Percy and he could simply vapor-travel to the desired location. While Percy detested using his abilities, he was willing to take the minor blow to his pride if it meant keeping the kid from doing something immensely stupid. He was on his way back to his car when his phone buzzed. Percy swore so loudly that the gate guard actually turned to look at him. Waving him off, Percy pulled his phone to his ear,

"Jackson," He grunted,

"You sound pissy," Montoya noted,

"Been a long night," Percy said wearily, "What's going on?"

"We got real fucking lucky," Montoya said, and Percy's heart raced for a second, "Your theory was right. Remember that pageant winner? Well the detail we assigned called it in that someone had broken into the apartment. Patrols moved in but the bastard got out through the window. Luckily the prom queen is ok, she's still out of it though. Guy's been using chloroform to knock out his victims."

"But he's in the wind?" Percy asked,

"Yup," She said, sounding as annoyed as Percy felt. "Gone. Left his car there. Patrols ran the plates, and they were stolen which is what tipped them off that something was off. They confronted the bastard but he jumped out the window before they could get cuffs around him, neither of our boys here is willing to explain quite how that managed to happen, but I supposed it ultimately doesn't matter,"

"No, I suppose not," Percy said, as he got into his car, "You said the pageant winner, right?" He asked as he turned over the ignition and his car roared to life.

"That's right," Montoya confirmed, "Remember where that is?"

"Yeah," Percy said, and he waved at the gate guard as he exited from the parking lot, "I'm on my way, you there now?"

"I am, I'll get the statement from the patrols and leave you to deal with talking to the neighbors," Montoya said, sounding entirely too smug for Percy's liking.

"Yeah, yeah," He grumbled, "Rub some more salt in it, why don't ya,"

It took some time, but within twenty minutes, Percy was on the scene. Montoya met him halfway up the staircase to the fourth floor of the complex. His ward had gone off when he had been halfway there, telling him that Meg had returned to the apartment, and Percy had seriously contemplated turning around and snagging her, but he couldn't just abandon his post. Deciding that she would have to find more plants and return to the apartment at some point, he did his best to swallow his aggravation. But he was still in a foul mood when he and Montoya walked into the pageant winner's apartment.

"The victim is already on her way to Gotham General," Montoya explained, "Doc's said that she got enough of the shit to knock her out of it for a couple of hours, so we won't be getting anything out of her for a while unfortunately." She gestured over to a pair of patrol officers, who were busy talking to a pair of detectives from Internal Affairs.

"Officers Thompson and Williams," Montoya explained, "They were the ones on the detail, Williams spotted the car, and Thompson ran the plates, when they came up as stolen, they headed into the building." They arrived outside of the door to room number 412. The door was thrown wide open, and the entrance was barred somewhat by yellow crime scene tape; Percy peeked inside to see a number of crime scene technicians were roaming around the apartment. Glancing down at the door knob to the apartment, Percy investigated the handle, and the area around the door.

"No signs of a forced entry." He mused, "He pick it?"

Montoya nodded, "That's what I was thinking. Picked the lock, crept into the apartment, jumped our girl, and was about to start packing up when our boys gave him a little surprise. But c'mon, I've yet to show you the best part," Montoya gestured, inside and the pair of them ducked under the crime scene tape and into the apartment. Montoya led him through a small interior hallway and over to what was unmistakably the mast bedroom. The lights had been turned on, displaying the true mess that had been made in the chaos of the brief encounter.

The bed sheets were thrown asunder, there was a slightly dried and stained kitchen towel with an evidence marker next to it on the floor. The window looked like it had been dislodged somewhat, as though someone had kicked it roughly as they were climbing through. And most interesting of all, was spray of red on the wall, directly opposite the bed.

"Is that-" He started to ask, but got cut off by Montoya's snarl of satisfaction,

"His blood? Absolutely," She grinned at him,

"Yeah, great Monty," Percy said in exasperation, "Only we got nothing to compare it to. With how meticulous this guy has been I doubt there's a record of him in the system."

"Well aren't you just a little ray of sunshine," She observed, placing a hand on her holstered sidearm and cocking her hip out to the side. Percy sighed and rubbed tiredly at his face,

"Sorry, Monty, long night is all." He said wearily, and gestured for them to head out into the hallway, "Let's go check in with the head nerd. See if they got anything for us."

He strode out of the room and could feel Monty on his heels. They turned the corner and walked into the kitchen. They approached the head of the forensics team. He was an older man with no hair and a bushy brown mustache, Anthony Masters was a thirty-year veteran of the forensics team, and as such, he wasted no time in launching into detail about what they'd found in the building.

"I suspect that you already know that he entered through the front door," He said without preamble, "Lockpicks from the look of things. Already got a sample of the blood headed down to central for a full workup. We've got a tow incoming for the car, but initial sweeps don't look like they'll turn up anything. Car was stolen about a week ago from Camila Thomas, her statement in the record says that she never saw anything. Just that she was walking her dog, came home and her car was gone. Apart from that, we got nothing. Pretty standard fare."

Montoya asked a question, but Percy wasn't listening. As Masters was talking, Percy's attention had been focused on something on the kitchen table. There was a sandwich wrapper, with some of the crumbs of a half-eaten sandwich still in the wrapper, but that wasn't what Percy was focusing on. It was the insignia on the wrapper that had Percy's attention. An insignia that Percy recognized, one he had seen at least three other times. One of the corner's of the wrapper was half-lifted into the air, revealing an image, an image of a smiling cartoon pig.

Percy's heart started racing and he pulled his phone out. Punching in a few keystrokes, he pulled up a map of Gotham, He swiped around for a moment before he found what he was looking for. He scanned through some of the contents before his eyes widened, and his heart was racing so quickly it was starting to hurt. Tucking his phone away in his arm, he pulled his notepad out and quickly jotted down a note. He tapped Montoya on the arm quickly, and she turned to look at him, an annoyed expression on her face.

"I'll be right back," Percy said, and before she could stop him, Percy was marching out of the apartment and down into the hallway. He left the building as calmly as he allowed himself, he refused to run, refused to allow himself to hope that maybe he had just hit the jackpot. He got to his car and opened the passenger side door. Flipping open the glovebox, he rifled around inside for a few seconds before he grabbed what he was looking for. With his possession in hand he walked briskly back into the building. Once he was back inside the apartment, he walked over to a coffee table in the living room, Montoya met him and peered around him as Percy spread out a map on the table. She looked like she wanted to say something, but was willing to let Percy work through his process.

Pulling his notepad and a pen out of his pocket Percy began checking his notes, and then writing a small "x" on specific points on the map, the process lasted for nearly ten minutes and when he was done, he stood up and looked at Montoya. His expression was calm, but his insides were raging in triumph.

"All right," Montoya said slowly, "Care to clue me in here?" She asked,

"One second," Percy said, then looked over at a nearby officer milling around the kitchen,

"Hey, Gibbons," he called out, and the officer turned to look at him. "Mind grabbing that wrapper over there for me?" The man looked confused for a moment, as he followed where Percy was pointing, before nodding and grabbing the wrapper. Walking over to Percy, the officer handed him the wrapper. Percy thanked Gibbons, then he shoved the wrapper into Montoya's hands.

"Look familiar?" He asked. Montoya gave him a confused look, before examining the wrapper. For a moment, she seemed exasperated, but then she frowned. Smoothing out the wrapper she examined the insignia on the wrapper.

"Hang on a second," She said, "Wasn't there a wrapper like this in the first car, and in Edgrow's apartment."

"In Kirkpatrick's and Henry's apartment's too." Percy nodded, "I just checked, it belongs to a butcher shop called Professor Pyg's." He pointed at the map on the table, and Montoya leaned in to take a look,

"Ok Metro," She said softly, tracing each location a finger, "Explain to me what I'm looking at here," Percy nodded and pointed at the map,

"This is the butcher's shop," Percy said, circling one of the "x's" with a finger, "And this is the first victim's apartment," he said moving his finger to another "x" that marked the Kirkpatrick apartment. Taking his pen, Percy then drew a line from the first victim's apartment to the second. "This is Allen's apartment," he added, and then he repeated the process with the other victims, until there was a full circle formed on the map.

"Each of the victims was within at least a block of this butchers shop, well within walking distance." Percy explained, "Remember the doc said that he was a butcher right? And here we have someone right stab in the middle of the killing zone."

"Ok," Montoya said slowly, "But how did we miss this in the screening of the financial statements? We should have seen this if all of our victims were going to the same place,"

Percy slid his phone across the table, where there was a review page of the shop on the screen, "Not if the shop is cash only. No paper trail, no way it shows up in a review of their transaction history."

"So you're thinking that these people come in, our boy chats them up, figures out that they fit his profile of target and then tails them home? How does that figure? How's he supposed to be tracking them?" Montoya asked.

Percy smiled, "Didn't need to track them, take a closer look," He said gesturing to the phone. Montoya looked back down at the screen, her eyes narrowed, then she snarled,

"Son of a bitch," She hissed,

"Four months ago, Professor Pyg started doing at home delivery. Set up in cash deposits at the store, you can have meat delivered directly to your doorstep and here's the kicker, the first delivery is free. So here's what I'm thinking, each of our victims goes into the shop, and picks up something. Maybe it's a slab of meat, maybe it's a sandwich, either way they end up in his shop. Once inside, he figures out whether they fit his target demographic or not. When he does, he gets them to sign up for the delivery,"

"And he knows exactly where to go to get inside," Montoya finished. A look of triumph flashed briefly over her face, before she grimaced, "This is good shit Metro, but it's weak. There's no way we can swing a warrant on all of this. This is the very definition of circumstantial." She crossed her arms and frowned, "We could sit on him, but given how tonight went, it could be weeks before he resurfaces again, and I'm not crazy about giving him an opportunity to skate on this."

"I had a thought on that," Percy said, having had an idea on his way to the car for the map,

"But I don't think you're going to like it."

---

"I don't like it,"

"I said the same thing sir,"

"Commissioner, respectfully, we're working against a clock here. The longer we go without moving the longer he has to either bury his tracks, or cut and run."

Commissioner Gordon growled and angrily pulled his pipe out of from a drawer at his desk. Percy and Montoya had immediately called the Commissioner and dragged him out of bed. They were in his personal office at his home. He hadn't been thrilled about being dragged out of bed so early, but had perked up slightly when Percy and Montoya had explained what Percy had found. They'd also taken the time, at Percy's insistence, to bring in Hugo Strange to consult on what they'd found.

"Run it by me again Jackson," Gordon said as he took a large pull from his pipe.

"According to the Doc here, our boy is obsessive compulsive, right? He has a pathological need to pursue perfection, and to find a way to complete his project. He needs to complete it, but he also is intelligent enough to know that he needs to lie low, so he won't go looking for trouble. It was too close tonight, and even he knows that he can't roll those dice and play again anytime soon, so he's going to curb his desires and lay low. How am I doing so far Doc?" Percy asked,

"An excellent show of deductive and psychological reasoning so far, detective," Strange replied,

"Thanks," Percy nodded, "So here's my thinking. We need to push the limits of his willpower. We know we don't have even a quarter of what we'd need for a proper warrant, but I know we got the right guy here."

"Lazlo Valentin," Gordon said, as he looked down and began reading from the file on his desk, "Born and raised here in Gotham. Drifted in and out of the foster system before he was finally taken in by Accordia and Walter Valentin. Was diagnosed about ten years ago as an obsessive compulsive sociopath, with severe depressive tendencies. Took over his father's shop six years ago when his parents…mysteriously disappeared. Has been running the business ever since." He sighed, "Well he certainly fits the profile Strange put together." Percy grunted in affirmation,

"Like I said sir, Valentin is our guy, I'm sure of it." Percy said,

"Still doesn't make your little plan any less of a risk. What if he isn't your guy? We arrest the wrong damn man and our entire department looks like an even bigger joke than it already does." Gordon said,

"That's the thing sir, we aren't trying to go to him. We're trying to bring him to us." Percy explained,

"By using you as bait?" Gordon asked incredulously,

"Exactly," Percy said, "Sir, I know what I look like," He gestured at himself, "I'm just the bastard's type. I offer myself up on an open platter, give him an opportunity so juicy that he just won't be able to help himself, and then we let him come to us."

"And what if he doesn't bite?" Gordon asked, "What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not," Percy said determinately, "But even if I am, that set's us back what, a night? We start from square one and we keep hunting the bastard. But right now, we have an opportunity and I don't think we can afford to waste it."

Gordon leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed as he puffed on his pipe and he considered Percy's words. He looked over at Strange,

"Doc, what are you thinking?" He asked Strange,

Strange had been seated in a chair in the corner of the room, his fingers steepled in front of his chin as he considered the question.

"I believe…" He said softly, carefully considering his words, "That detective Jackson is correct. Mr. Valentin suffers from a particular need to finish his creation. Intellectually he knows that he must stop what he is doing, at least for the time being, but he is not thinking intellectually. He is furious. His last experiment was a failure, we know that much from the way he butchered the body. Add that to tonight's fiasco and he is growing increasingly erratic. I believe that if offered with a…sufficient candidate such as detective Jackson, then he will be unable to help himself. He will need to hunt, need to complete his experiment. He has come too far, come too close for him to quit now. But we need to work quickly, while he is still thinking erratically. If he has time cool off and begin thinking rationally, I do not believe we will be successful. If we are to move forward with detective Jackson's plan, it must be tomorrow."

Gordon didn't look pleased by the analysis.

"I'm not thrilled by the idea of putting one of my people directly in the line of fire like this Jackson." He said,

"I understand and appreciate the concern sir," Percy said,

"A respectful way of telling me to fuck off," Gordon snorted, but Percy didn't bat an eye,

"Believe me si, I can take care of myself. Besides, I'll have the cavalry waiting in the wings, we record the entire thing and I'll have a cam on me. The moment Montoya and our boys see Valentin head up to my apartment, they move in." Percy said.

"We can put surveillance up in Metro's apartment," Montoya said, though she didn't sound pleased by the idea, "Get the entire thing on camera. Metro wears the cam in and out of the shop. We'll be able to watch everything, make sure it all goes down the right way and that Metro is never in any real trouble."

Gordon sighed again and took another pull of his pipe. He exhaled deeply and was briefly hidden by a plume of smoke. When he reappeared, he was leaning forward on the desk, and his hands were folded in front of him.

"All right," He finally said, "All right. Let's do this. I'll get in touch with Judge McKenzie about getting a head-start on a warrant for the shop. Assuming Valentin is really our guy, I want this done the right way. You have a story in mind? I assume you aren't going to tell the guy you're a cop."

"I had an idea on that, actually," Montoya said, and all heads turned her way, "MMA." She said simply, "Metro here is an up and comer in the octagon and is doing some training for an upcoming match. We can get our techies to put together something online just on the off-chance that he decides to look him up. But that seems like it would be juicy enough that Valentin wouldn't be able to pass it up."

"That's good," Percy nodded,

"You a good actor, Jackson?" Gordon asked,

"Not going to win any Oscars, but I do pretty well," Percy said, and Gordon grunted.

"Good enough I suppose," He muttered, "Let's get on it then. I'll have a word with our tech groups and get an order out to get your apartment covered Jackson. We're going to have only one shot at this, let's make sure we get this done correctly. All right, all of you, go home and get some sleep. I have a feeling we're all going to need it."

---

Percy adjusted the sweatshirt slightly before fixing his glasses in agitation. He forgot how much he hated wearing wires and cameras. He tapped the wire in his sleeve twice in rapid succession, then he waited for a moment, and received a series of light buzzes through the wire in response. They had been up early to get started on their work for the day and Percy had been woken up by a crew from the department who began setting up surveillance equipment in Percy's apartment.

He supposed it was better to have them as a wake-up call as opposed to the alarm he set up at Meg's hideaway. There only one other buzz from the alarm all night after the first alarm, meaning that she had left at some point and had yet to return to the hideaway, which was something Percy couldn't decide was good or not. But he had to push that from his mind for the time being, he had other things to worry about.

After receiving the all clear on the crew's end, Percy got out of his car and began the block-long walk over to the butcher shop and deli hybrid. He had parked deliberately far enough away so that if Valentin had some way of surveilling the outside of his shop, he would just see Percy coming down the street and heading inside. Percy approached the outside of the shop, and made a small show of stopping and looking up at the sign over the door. After taking a moment to pretend like he was thinking about it, Percy pushed open the door to the shop.

The inside looked like any other deli or butcher shop Percy had ever been in. On one side of the shop there were several small tables where a couple of people were seated and eating sandwiches or talking. Along the wall on the other side was a display case of various different types of meat. It had a sterilized and clean feeling that left Percy feeling like he was in a hospital rather than a butcher's shop. Spying the man behind the counter, Percy walked over, extending his senses as he did so. He ignored the feelings of the people in the shop and felt around. There was nothing suspicious upstairs, just a few tenants in what Percy was sure was an office complex above the butcher's shop. So he checked down, and hit the jackpot.

He felt several bodies down in what had to be a basement. Their heartbeats were beating at a rhythm so slowly that they were bordering on being dead. This was their man, and Percy's convictions were only reassured when he got closer to the counter. Lazlo Valentin was not an attractive man. His face was disproportioned, with small and dark, beady eyes and a large and wide mouth. He was the right height and body type to fit their profile as well. But it was the man's shoulder that had Percy's attention. It was wrapped heavily in bandages and Percy was sure, based on the haphazard manner of the wrapping, that Valentin had done it himself. His arm was in a sling, and he was limping around the shop, as though he had hurt his leg falling from a great height. Percy followed the man's movements with his glasses, taking care to get his wounded arm in frame so that it was recorded cleanly.

"Hey there," Percy greeted as he approached the counter, waving slightly so as to get the man's attention. Valentin looked up from where he was cutting a slab of meat with a large knife, and looked at Percy. He'd been frowning heavily as he worked, but as he turned and looked at Percy, his expression changed. He looked Percy up and down, before a wide and almost hungry grin spread over his face.

"Afternoon," He said, and his voice was high-pitched and slightly squeaky. He hobbled over to the counter, and rested his arms on the display case, "What can I do for ya?" He asked,

"Friend of mine recommended this place a while ago, said you had the best pastrami sandwiches outside of New York," Percy said, playing up his home-grown accent with a broad grin, resting his own arms on the glass of the case as he pretended to scan the menu over the case.

"Your friend is right, I can get one whipped up for ya real quick if ya want," He said, still eyeing Percy uncomfortably,

"That'd be great," Percy said, taking his opening to start laying out the line, "I go on a diet starting next week, so I'm looking to enjoy good food while I can,"

Valentin let out a high-pitched squeal of a laugh, "Guy like you," He said with another cursory look up and down at Percy, "What have you got to go on a diet for,"

"Gotta hit my mark for a weigh-in a few weeks," Percy said absently, still pretending to scan the menu.

"Weigh-in, huh?" Valentin said, unconsciously licking his lips, "You, uh, you a wrestler or-or something?" He asked, and Percy could feel his heart start to beat faster, not in nervousness, but in excitement.

"Nah," Percy said dismissively, "MMA. I'm on the junior circuit right now. I win the next couple of fights and I'm going to get my shot at the show." He said, summoning as much faux enthusiasm as he could. By the way the man's heart was beating, and the amount he was sweating, Percy had him.

"W-wow," He stammered out, "That's, ahem, that's very impressive, good for you,"

"Thanks," Percy said, and then checked behind him for a moment and spied an empty table in the corner away from the windows, "Why don't I get that pastrami sandwich, and a bag of the jalapeño chips and a bottle of cola." Percy said, fishing in his pocket for his wallet. Pulling it out, and he slapped a twenty down on the counter and gave the man a wink, "Keep the change boss," He said,

"Thank you, sir." He said, absently grabbing the money as he watched Percy walk away, "That'll be right up."

Percy threw a wave over his shoulder and perched himself at the table. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he sent Montoya a text with a fish emoji followed by a fish-hook.

She wrote back immediately,

This is our guy.

I know, you get a good shot of the shoulder? Percy replied,

Got it beautifully. What's with the lunch order? She asked,

Part of the plan. Just trust me on this, Percy replied, as he closed out of his messages and went about pretending to check his email.

A few minutes later, and a delicious-looking sandwich next to a plate of chips and a bottle of cola was set down in front of him by a smiling Valentin. Percy gave the man a smile and thanked him. Valentin took a step back, but didn't leave, he looked like he was waiting to see Percy's reaction. Playing to what the man wanted, Percy lifted the sandwich to his lips and took a large bite of the sandwich. Serial killer or not, the man made a great fucking sandwich. Percy let out a slightly exaggerated moan of delight as he chewed, and closed his eyes in content. He chewed for a few more seconds before he opened his eyes and looked over to the eagerly watching Valentin.

"Holy shit, tastes just like I'm back home," Percy said with a wide grin. Valentin seemed to positively vibrate in excitement,

"I'm so glad you like it," He said, as he nervously played with his apron, he looked like he was barely containing himself from saying something. Percy had a feeling he knew what the man wanted, so he decided to lay out a little more rope for the man to hang himself with.

"All your meat this good?" Percy asked as he picked up the sandwich for another bite.

"Oh yes, oh yes," Valentin nodded excitedly, "It's all just as good-better, in fact. You should try our pork loins! Forgive me for saying so, but they are the best cuts in the entire city,"

"I believe it, if it's even half as good as this is," Percy said with a laugh as he took another bite. This was his opening, the man was practically frothing at the mouth for Percy, but had just enough self-restraint to keep himself from acting on his urges. So, Percy decided to make the decision for the man,

"Hey, got a question for ya" Percy said, "I'm going to need a hell of a lot of good lean meats for my diet the next few weeks, but I'm not going to have the time to run out for meat. You don't do deliveries, do you?" Valentine froze for a moment, and Percy was halfway tempted to begin compelling the man before a nasty and wide grin formed on the butcher's face,

"We do indeed sir," He said, his voice dropping in tone slightly. He sounded like a man on the verge of something incredibly exciting and couldn't control himself, "Would you like me to fetch an order form?"

"That'd be fantastic man," Percy said, as he came to a decision. Setting his sandwich down, Percy wiping his hand off on his pant leg before extending it to the man, "Name's Percy by the way, Percy Johnson," He said, using the false name that the tech gurus had used when putting together Percy's fake online profile. Valentin gripped Percy's hand in his own,

"Lazlo Valentin," the killer said. His grip was tight, but Percy didn't mind, using the skin-on-skin contact and the shake as the impetus for his action, Percy used a minor magical compulsion through the mist. He wasn't forcing Valentin to do anything; he was simply encouraging the man to do what he wanted to do. The spell was rather simple in nature, as it simply made the target more susceptible to acting on their urges, and not consider the consequences of their actions. Valentin wouldn't be doing anything he wasn't already seriously considering; Percy was just adding a little insurance to make sure the man followed through on what he was planning.

"I'll be right back with the order form," He said, his beady eyes dilating in excitement, as his heart was racing. Valentin turned around and limped off to the back of the shop, as Percy's pocket buzzed. Checking his phone, Percy saw he had a message waiting for him from Montoya,

Got him

---

It was the waiting that was the worst part, Jim Gordon decided. The anticipation that something could happen, but not knowing when or even if it would happen. Gordon had seen the footage and had to say, that Jackson, for his part, had played things perfectly. Valentin had bought into what the kid was selling hook, line, and sinker, and had been all but salivating from the moment he had first laid eyes on the man. Gordon initially had no doubt in his mind that Valentin would take the bait, but as the hours stretched on, and the moon rose higher and higher into the sky, he wasn't quite as sure. It was well-past midnight now, and there had been a team marking the shop since Jackson had left, but they hadn't seen hide or hair of the man.

Gordon groaned and stretched his arms over his head, and tried to get more comfortable in his chair, which was a bit of an impossibility. He had always hated stakeouts, they were among the most boring aspects of the job, but what he hated more than that, was having to spend a stakeout in the back of a tech van. Stakeouts were uncomfortable under good circumstances, but in the department issued surveillance vehicles, they were nigh unbearable. He tried to distract himself by looking at the monitors of Jackson in his apartment. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at seeing him comfortable and relaxed in his apartment while he was stuck in the back of a crammed surveillance van. Though he supposed it wasn't his neck on the line if things went poorly, but it was Jackson's.

Gordon had insisted that he be part of the operation, much to consternation of much of the top brass. But Gordon had approached his posting to the Commissioner in much the same way he had his entire career. He wanted to be at the front. He needed to be part of the action, and he refused to sit back, and watch as his people were put in harm's way without him to watch over the operation.

He was jolted back to consciousness when the radio beside him chirped to life,

"Movement," Came the high voice of Thailer Montgomery, "By the back entrance, don't have a good look at it from here, someone have a visual?"

"Got it," Came the gruff voice of Alex Constance, "It's definitely our boy. He's wearing his go-to-get-up. Got eyes on a black hoodie and a pig mask." Gordon's heart raced as he pulled the radio closer to her,

"You get that people?" He asked into the radio,

"Got it Jim," said Montoya from her place in the SWAT van.

"Loud and clear, boss," Jackson said, as he flicked the lights off to his apartment, and got into position in the bedroom. Gordon put the radio down, and out of habit he pulled his weapon free of its holster. Checking the chambers, he replaced the weapon and watched as Jackson did the same with a hidden gun in a holster on his back.

"Just got into a car," Chirped the radio, "He's heading out now. Going south on Fifth."

"Tail him, three car lengths." Came Thailer's voice.

"Check,"

The radio fell silent, save for the occasional update when the car turned down another road. Gordon knew the streets of Gotham well enough to know that Valentin was heading right for them. Like a fly right into the spider's web. Gordon could feel his pulse quicken with each passing moment. He always got a good adrenaline rush going right before the shit hit the fan. Even though he wasn't going to be part of the action, it felt good to be doing real work like this again.

"Contact," Said one of techies in the van, and Gordon's head whipped to the surveillance cams over the street. A black sedan had pulled out onto the street; it drove slowly up to the curb outside of Jackson's apartment. Gordon snatched the radio up, and pressed the mic,

"All team's, be ready to move." He announced, as he fingered his weapon once more.

"T-1, check," Montoya called in,

"T-2, check," Called in Howard Branden, leader of the second team,

"B-1, check," Jackson said.

"Switch the indoor cameras to night-vision," Gordon ordered the techs, who complied immediately. Gordon watched as the inside of the apartment suddenly became awash in a phosphorescent green light. He could see Jackson standing on the other side of the door. They had set up a dummy in the bed, and the plan was to catch the bastard in the act of trying to take Percy, before taking him down.

"Targets on the move," One of the tech's announced, as the door to the sedan opened, and Valentin climbed out. He checked both sides of the street, before he creeping his way into the building, Gordon waited for him to disappear inside the building before he pulled the radio up.

"T-1, T-2, move." He announced, and he watched in another camera as the doors to the vans opened and the two teams swarmed out. Montoya leading the first team, her weapon drawn and level. They moved with swift precision up the street. Once they were at the building, T-2 split off and encircled the building as T-1 entered the building. From the camera inside the apartment, Gordon watched as the door was opened and Valentin crept into the room, before he closed the door behind him, and locked it. He glanced around the apartment for a moment, before he noticed the door at the end of the hall leading to Jackson's bedroom. There was a click, and Gordon checked the comms to see that Jackson had just shut off his radio. Good boy, Gordon thought, better not to leave anything to chance.

"Target is in the apartment, be advised, he locked the door. Gonna have to break it down." Gordon announced, and watched as T-1 entered the building, where he lost sight of Montoya.

"Check," Montoya called back in.

Gordon's blood was pounding in his ears, and he licked his lips in nervousness as he watched Valentin creep towards the door. Valentin tested the knob for a minute, before he slowly and carefully opened the door. Gordon's eyes jumped to where Jackson was standing. He stood poised, and calm. As though this were just another day at the office. For a kid like him, someone who'd seen some of the shit he'd probably seen, it probably was just another day at the office.

"T-1 stacked," Montoya called in,

"On my mark," Gordon responded quickly. His neck was slick with sweat, as the familiar thrill of the hunt overtook him. This was what he was made to do. This was what gave him life. In mere moments, they would have their man.

---

Valentin strode forward with the kind of single-minded focus of a man possessed. He was so close, so very close to perfecting his art. Maybe one or two more attempts and he would be set. He still had some canvasses to work with before he got to work on the fighter. This Percy Johnson, he would be Valentin's crowning achievement. The man was already close to the perfect specimen. The most perfect blend of brawn and beauty. He needed only the brain and he would be complete.

His palma were slick and he did his best to control his breathing. It would not do to wake the man before Valentin got the jump on him. He was no fool, he knew that in a fair fight he wouldn't stand a chance against a professional fighter. But he was too clever for the brute. He gazed upon his victim, his heart racing and his blood thrumming in excitement. Ignoring the pain in his leg, Valentin launched himself at his target. In a smooth and practiced motion, he covered the face of his victim in his towel. He fought to cover the man's face, and to make sure that the rag cover both his face and nose. But…something was wrong. After a second of smothering the large man, Valentin realized that Jackson wasn't fighting back. They always fought back, and a man of Jackson's strength and size should have been fighting back. No, this was wrong, it was all wrong. He whipped the rag off Jackson's face, and Valentin's eyes widened in horror. He gazed down, not into the eyes of a man, but of a makeshift manikin, with no face whatsoever. He only had a moment to process the reality of the situation, before something large and heavy collided with him. All of the wind was knocked right out of his lungs, and he was thrown off of the bed, before falling in a heap on the ground, with a tremendous weight on top of him.

Instinct took over and Valentin tried to fight off his attacker. He thrashed and clawed, and his fingers dug into something fleshy, and the person on top of him grunted as Valentin's fingers dug into skin, but it was of no use. There was a loud crash and the sound of pounding footsteps and from his position on the floor, Valentin could see the glow of flashlights in the hall.

He was suddenly flipped onto his stomach and he was dimly aware that someone was talking, but he couldn't hear anything. He felt the rough plastic of restraints on his wrists. He felt a hand grab the mask around his face and he struggled even harder. He craned his neck and tried to bite at the fingers pulling his mask free of his face, but he was unsuccessful as his mask was pulled free from him. The door to the room was kicked open and a flood of bodies came into the room. Valentin hissed in discomfort as several flashlights pointed in his direction and he was temporarily blinded. He felt someone approach and kneel down in front of him, blinking away the light, he squinted and saw a pretty, young, Hispanic detective smirking down triumphantly at him.

"Hey there Valentin, been looking for you for quite a while." She turned her smirk at the beast who was still perched on top him, before nodding. A weight released itself from on top of Valentin, and a strong hand gripped around the back of Valentin's shirt and pulled him up. The woman, still smirking triumphantly, said, "Your op Metro, you get the honors."

"So happy you said it," came a painfully familiar voice. Valentin turned his head and to his horror, Percy Johnson, if that was even his real name, was standing there, a painfully tight grip on Valentin's arm, and a shiny GCPD shield glimmering around his neck.

"Hey there Lazlo, gotta tell ya, you should have stuck to the sandwiches."

Notes:

And there we have it! Kuddos to everyone who guessed Professor Pyg a while ago, you were right on the money! This was a lot of fun to put together. It's honestly so fulfilling to reach one of these conclusions, and I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did. Still have several chapters left in the roster, and several story-lines left to close before we're done, so I hope you're strapped in and ready for some fun stuff. For those hoping for a bit more Percy-Cape interactions, don't worry, there's going to be some really, really good stuff coming your way starting soon. Thanks for all the love and support, you all have been so awesome and I'm thrilled ya'll enjoy the story as much as I do. Oh! And I'm finally on discord, I joined a group with a bunch of other awesome writers and readers from a plethora of genres and fandoms, so if you enjoy shooting the shit and talking about our works, come and check it out, you can find the server in my profile. As always, if you read this and like it, but haven't checked out my other stuff, give it a read, I think you'll probably enjoy it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and I'll see you all next week!

Chapter 19: Pieces in a Puzzle

"Got something here, looks like a trap door,"

"Locked?"

"Yup,"

"In or out?"

"In,"

"Get us a battering ram up here!"

There was a tremendous bang, and the trap doors slammed open as the lock mechanisms were utterly destroyed by the ram. Percy took the point position, his weapon drawn and held in his dominant hand. He propped his weapon over his left wrist, and was holding a flashlight in that hand. He descended down the staircase slowly, panning left to right and clearing his three and nine o'clock positions. The stairs led down into a large meat locker that had been converted into something far more disturbing. To Percy's right were several large meat hooks hanging from the ceiling. Percy could see what looked like dried and congealed blood on the hooks as the light from his torch danced off the metal. To the left were several large cages. There were six in all, and four of them were empty, but there was a man and a woman laying down in the fifth and sixth. The woman was curled into a small ball, and looked as though she were barely even breathing. The man was sitting down, his back to the cage and looked like he too was unconscious. Percy quickly expanded his senses, and to his relief he saw that they were both still alive, albeit barely.

"Got two down here," Percy called out, before scanning forward and heading deeper into the chamber. Hurried steps behind him indicated that a couple of officers were heading over to the cages, but Percy paid them no mind. His job wasn't to secure the hostages, that was best left to the patrol officers. Percy was preoccupied with the end of the room. There were what looked like surgical curtains, and Percy could see what looked like large surgical lights poking over the top of the curtains. Not wanting to touch anything, Percy waited in front of the curtains, before he felt someone squeeze his arm. Heeding the cue, Percy stepped around the side of the curtain and nearly gagged.

On the other side of the bed was a surgical table. Dried blood stained the corners of the bed, and there was blood splattered over the curtains, and the floor. Dirty and bloodied bandages were strewn across the floor.

"Clear!" He called out.

"Clear!" Montoya called out as she came around the other side, flinching in revulsion as she saw the table. There were additional calls of "Clear!" around the chamber.

With a sigh, Percy holstered his weapon and pulled out a medical mask and gloves. Strapping the mask over his face, and snapping the gloves on, Percy stepped forward. On one side of the bed was a large tray. There was an array of foul and soiled surgical tools. Scalpels, forceps, scissors, and clamps, as well as other tools that Percy didn't recognize. On the other side of the table was a small refrigerator. Kneeling down in front of it, Percy opened it up, and saw that there were blood bags inside. Picking a few up, Percy inspected the tags. Each bag was tagged with a different blood type.

"I guarantee that if we cross reference these with our vics, we'll get matches on their blood types." Percy said,

"This is sick," Montoya muttered, as she examined the tools. Percy could only nod in agreement. Replacing the bags, Percy took a photo of the bags before he replaced the glove he used to touch his phone. Standing up, Percy scanned around the rest of the room. In the far corner Percy could see a large structure. It looked like a separate room, two walls jutted out from the rest of the building, with a strong, wrought-iron door. Gesturing to the door, Percy and Montoya walked over to the door. Percy tested the handle, and was pleased to see it was unlocked and he swung open the door.

Montoya swore, and Percy could only agree. The inside of the room was similar to a private office. There was a large desk butting up to the far wall. On the wall were diagrams, and pictures of the victims. Pictures of the surgery as it was happening. Pulling his phone out, Percy snapped a quick picture of the wall before he approached the desk. Ignoring the pictures for a second, Percy was far more interested in the documents on the table. There were order forms for surgical equipment, documents on how transplant surgeries are performed, as well scientific journals exploring the effects of psychedelics on pain tolerance. Taking his phone out again, Percy snapped more pictures of the documents on the table.

"Metro," Called out Montoya, who was busy looking through a small chest beside the desk. Percy walked over and looked at what Montoya was pointing at. There were several large stacks of square tin-foiled packages. Percy snapped a picture of the foils, before he pulled his gloves off, replaced them, then reached in and grabbed one of the tin-foil packages. Taking it over to the table, Percy opened the tin-foil. Inside were several large tabs of what Percy as Wonderland.

"Looks like he was doping them up so they were docile for the surgery," Percy commented,

"Easier to get a hold of than anesthetics. And if he were buying large amounts of anesthetics in all at once, it would have set off flags." Montoya added, as she took a turn at photographing the tabs. Percy walked back over to the chest and knelt down. There were more medical documents and pages from medical journals. At the bottom of the chest, was another small box. Squinting in interest, Percy reached down and picked up the box. Turning around he placed the small box on the table.

"What the hell is that?" Montoya asked

"No idea," Percy said, as he opened the box. But he only grew more confused as he looked inside the box. There was a small thumb drive, and a cell phone, but what really caught Percy's attention was the small stack of what looked like to Percy as memory cards. Picking up the small memory card, Percy examined it.

"Now what the hell is that?" Montoya asked again, and again, Percy didn't know. Gesturing for Montoya to take a picture, she snapped a photo of the contents of the box. Percy then grabbed the cell phone. It was an old flip phone, and Percy flipped it open. Seeing that there were several flags on the screen, Percy first clicked on the messages. Montoya leaned over to get a better look, so Percy lowered the phone in order for her to see better. Valentin had several unread messages, clicking on the first message, Percy read it quickly. It was a text from Gotham National Bank and Trust, alerting Valentin to a transfer into his account of five-thousand dollars. Percy exchanged a look with Montoya, before he exited out of the message and checked the next. This one was a transfer of funds confirmation in the amount of eight-thousand dollars. Percy's brow furrowed in confusion. He checked the remaining messages, and it was more of the same. Transfers and deposits in and out of his account in large sums.

"What the fuck?" Montoya breathed out, and Percy could only shake his head in confusion. Clicking back to the home-screen, Percy clicked to the other section that had a notification. Percy pulled up the man's voicemail, where Valentin had several unheard voicemails. Scrolling through the list, Percy found the oldest message and clicked it, Percy put it on speaker before placing the phone down on the table. The voice over the speaker was male, and had a hint of an accent.

"Hello Mr. Valentin, I'm so happy that you liked our little package. I'm reaching out to you on behalf of a client of mine who believes that the two of you could do something great together. We believe a partnership would be mutually beneficial and would love the chance to meet. Give this number a call back tonight at midnight."

"Ok…that doesn't sound good," Percy muttered as he clicked on the next message.

"Lazlo, the drop was made. Just dump it in with the cash flow and make a transfer tomorrow to the account."

Percy and Montoya shared a look with one another. "Is this what I think it is?" Percy asked,

"Sounds a hell of a lot like Valentin got conned into being a front. This mother fucker was laundering money." Montoya nodded, "Hit the next one," She ordered, and Percy did as he was told.

"Lazlo, found the guy you were looking for. Don't know what you need this shit for but I got you an in. Meet him at pier thirty-four tonight at One. Whatever you're doing with this shit, just make sure you don't get too fucked up to do your damn job."

"Think that was for the Wonderland?" Percy asked,

"Had to be," Montoya nodded, then gestured for Percy to continue. The last three messages were incredibly interesting.

"Valentin, you were short. Fix it. Now."

"Valentin, you were short again. We gave you a simple fucking job, what is going on? Don't make me call you a third time. You won't like it."

"Valentin, you dumb mother fucker, what the fuck is going on? You've missed three payments now. There are cops swarming your place, and one of my contacts says that you're being looked at for fucking murder? One of our guys even saw a fucking detective with the goddamn Major Crimes Division heading into your fucking store! What the fuck are you doing? What's going on? Call me, the boss wants to talk to you."

"Holy shit," Percy breathed, and Montoya could only nod in understanding. They fell silent for a while, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Percy was certain that Montoya was thinking the same as Percy. Valentin was working a money laundering front for someone. Unless there was someone else looking to get into the game, there was really only one person who was running the old-time mafia moves like that. There was really only one thing left for them to do.

"I think we need to have a little talk with Lazlo,"

---

Percy groaned as he looked at the monitor of the interview room.

"Your bestest friend in the whole wide, world, Metro." Montoya laughed,

"Fuck off, Monty," Percy said. Valentin lawyered up the second that he had gotten to the precinct. Of course Sarah Rosthein would be the defense attorney assigned to Valentin.

"How'd the meeting with Jim and the D.A. go?" He asked,

"Well," Montoya nodded, "They're prepared to take the death penalty off the table if it means that he gives up who he was laundering for."

"I thought Jersey canned the death penalty," Percy said,

"They did. But we ran his numbers through the system." She jerked a thumb over to the screen, "Turns out our boy here's prints match up with a cold case from ten years ago in Virginia. They want him extradited for the needle."

Percy snorted then sighed, "Well even then, it's not like it'll even be admissible in any trial. Guy like him? I guarantee if we bring in the guy he was working for their defense will move to dismiss him under mental instability."

"Doesn't mean the information won't be useful," Montoya commented, "He points us in the right direction then that means we can begin putting a real case together."

Sighing, Percy nodded before checking his watch, "All right, let's get to this," He walked back into the bullpen and threw off his coat and tossed it over the back of his chair. Rolling his sleeves up, Percy grabbed the file and stack of evidence off his desk lead the way to interview room one. Montoya hot on his heels.

Percy took a second and composed himself, before he plastered a large grin on his face and swaggered into the interview room.

"Lazlo," Percy greeted happily, spreading his arms out wide in greeting. Rosthein and Valentin, who had been in an in depth conversation broke apart, "How ya doin pal? Doing all right? I'm ok, thanks for asking. Slept a little weird on arm last night but honestly, I just don't care." Percy pulled the chair out and plopped down, Montoya decided to prop herself up on the wall beside them.

Percy opened the file on the table and started tossing out pictures from the inside. One by one, photos taken from the inside of the dungeon in the basement appeared. Photos of the surgical bed, of the cages, of the documents on the table in the private office. When all the photos were on the table, Percy leaned back in his chair in a lackadaisical way, with his hands behind his head and his feet propped up on the table.

"So, I know no case is ever a slam dunk," Percy began, "But damn dude, you're really making our lives on this easy," He said as he gestured to the photos.

"Is there a point to this meeting detective, or did you just come to gloat, because if that's the case then this meeting is over," Rosthein said, and Percy raised his hands up in surrender,

"There's a point to this," He said. Reaching down to the floor, Percy reached down and grabbed the bags on the ground. He pulled up on a latex glove and pulled the cell phone out of the bag. Valentin's eyes widened, and Percy just nodded at him. "Guess what we found in here?" Percy asked as he waved the phone around slightly.

"I could play the messages," Percy said, "But I think you and I both know that's a waste of time. We want to know who you were laundering money for."

Rosthein placed a hand on Valentin's shoulder to prevent him from speaking, "Do you have any proof on that accusation detective?" She asked, and Percy shrugged,

"Right now? No. But we currently have our people digging through the business's financial statement looking for anything strange. You think we're thorough, you should see the IRS." He laughed, "Look, whether we can make the laundering racket stick or not, it doesn't matter. We have enough here to lock you up for the rest of your natural born life and throw away the fucking key. But here's the thing. We aren't the only ones who want you. You remember taking a little field trip down south to Virginia a few years ago? The name Isabelle Clair ring any bells?" It was a rhetorical question, but the way Valentin averted his eyes was enough of an answer for Percy, "Thought so," He said, "See, your prints turned up at a nasty little scene down there. Same sort of shop that we have here, they just couldn't figure out you did it. Well now they want you and they want you real bad. You know what the difference between New Jersey and Virginia is?"

"The death penalty," Rosthein finished, looking profoundly pissed. "So that's what this is?"

"It's a deal," Percy said,

"It's legal extortion," Rosthein shot back,

"What the hell are you talking about?" Valentin asked,

"See Lazlo, the D.A., you know him? Dent? Well he's a decent sort of guy. Doesn't believe in the death penalty, but he does believe in seeing justice served. So he's offering you a little deal. You tell us who you were laundering the money for, and Dent will tell the Virginians to shove it."

Valentin was silent for a second, and it took Percy by surprise that he was actually considering it. Rosthein leaned over and tried to say something but he shushed her, so she settled for sitting in her chair and glaring at Percy.

"You're actually considering not taking the deal, aren't you?" Percy asked, "Why?"

Valentin was again, silent for a few moment. When he spoke again, he was soft in tone. "What is my life worth if I cannot create. If I cannot make my art. Life is not worth living without it." Percy felt disgusted, and he glanced at Montoya, who was doing a good job at masking her own worry.

Percy decided he'd take matters in his own hands. Channeling the mist, Percy layered a small compulsion on the man. "Lazlo, listen to me. I get it, really, I do. You live for your work, without it, what are you? Nothing, right? Believe me brother I understand how that goes. But you know what's just as good as finishing your work? Is spreading the word. Letting the world know of your genius, letting people know how imperfect they are. How else are they supposed to change, to become perfect? They can't do that if you aren't around to tell them how to become the truly perfect person." Percy needed his argument to sound convincing, like he was really pushing for the man to listen to him.

For a brief moment, Valentin's eyes glazed over, before the look disappeared and the mist-magic took effect. Valentin looked like he was genuinely thinking over Percy's words, truly considering them. Then, he nodded, "You're right," he said softly, "The people need to know. They need to know how flawed they are. How to correct their imperfections, and I will be instrument used to craft their instruction." Percy nodded, and pulled out a piece of paper from the file.

"Sign," he ordered. Valentin took the paper, and before Rosthein could say or do anything, he signed it. Percy took the paper back, inspected it and nodded, before sliding it to Rosthein to examine.

"I never met with the man personally. It was always through subsidiaries." Valentin said immediately, "But I was working for Falcone."

Percy controlled himself from reacting too much. From the way that Montoya stiffened, she was doing much the same. Percy leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

"Let's start with a question of personal curiosity. Why were you missing the payments?" Percy asked,

"I needed the money for my work. I didn't care about Falcone or his little plan. I just wanted his money. I did as I was told for a while, before I began siphoning out funds for myself to purchase equipment."

"He point you int he direction of the Wonderland too?" Percy asked, and the man nodded, and Percy jotted down a note,

"Do you know if they had anything to do with the Wonderland?" Percy asked, but Rosthein interrupted him,

"That information isn't covered by the deal. Keep it to he money laundering. You want to know about drugs? We'll be wanting another deal." Percy scoffed, and crossed his arms as he looked over at her.

"You get off on being difficult, don't you?" He asked. She didn't dignify that with a response, so Percy changed gears. "You know where the money was coming from?"

"No, didn't bother to ask either," He said and Percy sighed,

"All right, how about the people you were working for. You know who they were? Any names you can remember?"

"Nope," Valentin said smugly, looking distinctly pleased to be unable to help out,

"Why didn't they kill you?" Montoya asked, and Valentin turned to look at her,

"Pardon?" He asked,

"I asked, why didn't they kill you. You miss payments for three months straight and you're still breathing? Why?"

Valentin shrugged. "Guess they really needed the money to be cleaned. I don't know, I didn't ask too many questions,"

"Are we done here?" Rosthein asked,

Percy glanced over at Montoya who nodded at him. Sighing, Percy stood up, gathering his things as he did, "Yup. Looks like we're done here," He followed Montoya out of the room, and they walked back through the hall to the bullpen. "Ok so this feels weird to you, right?" Percy asked, "Why is he still breathing. I thought that this was a mob town? Crossing Falcone seemed like it was a one way ticket to breathing through a tube or worse."

"It usually is, which the begs the question. What the fuck is happening?" Montoya said. As they arrived at their desk. Percy looked out the corner of his eye and spied Wise and Cavallo staring at him. Unable to help himself, Percy turned and leaned on the desk, as he stared at Wise. He scanned the entire room, and noticed for the first time that people were staring at him in confusion. Percy came to a decision, he decided it was high time to send a message. It was a shame that he never believed in playing it subtle. He left the politics back in Rome.

"Afternoon Marcus." He said loudly at the man, "Next time you send some of Falcone's fuck-toys, make sure they come ready to play, because there won't always be a little birdie flying around to protect them." Percy grinned broadly, "And hope you remember what we talked about buddy boy." Percy said, miming pointing a gun at the man, "Because now you've made it personal."

Wise stood up, and looked like he was about to say something, but Montoya intervened. Grabbing Percy around the arm she dragged him out of the bullpen. Percy allowed himself to be dragged off, staring down Wise the entire time. Montoya dragged him into the nearest ops room, and shoved Percy inside, before closing the door behind her.

"What the fuck was that?" She demanded, and Percy shrugged, before explaining what happened outside of Ted's and then the little showdown in the parking garage.

"Let me get this straight," Montoya said through gritted teeth, "One of the detectives in this precinct threatened you, called in a hit on you, you get your ass bailed out by a cape-"

"Hey, she interrupted before I could-"

"And" Montoya cut over him, "You didn't think to mention it to me?"

Percy crossed his arms and glared back, "I'm sorry if I was a little preoccupied in catching our serial kidnapper, torturer, and killer." Percy snapped back,

"That's not the point Jackson," Montoya snapped, "You and me?" She said pointing between them, "We're the only detectives in the entire fucking precinct not in someone's pocket. We need to have each other's backs. That's what partners do."

Percy frowned, and averted his gaze, "Look, Renee, I get that, and I was going to tell you about it but I genuinely got distracted. I'm not trying to keep you out of it, I promise." He sighed and scratched behind his ear uncomfortably, "I'm sorry for not telling you about it. Next time something happens, I'll keep you appraised. I promise."

Montoya stared at him for a moment, before she nodded, "You'd better." She said, then glanced at her watch, "We need to go talk to Jim about this. And fill him in on all this new bullshit." Then she looked up at him, and her eyes narrowed, "What did you mean when you said 'remember what we talked about?' There something else you're not telling me?"

Percy shifted uncomfortably, but decided to be honest. Montoya was right, they were partners, and likely all the other had in the entire precinct that didn't want them dead or worse.

"Might have threatened him a little," Percy said with a wince. Montoya just stared at him. The she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You're fucking hopeless Metro, you know that?" She said, and Percy chuckled awkwardly, "C'mon dumbass, let's go talk to the boss,"

---

"Jackson you alright in the head?"

"I think so sir,"

"Do you? Because I'm not sure about that at the moment."

"Sir-"

"This ain't a game son. These people are serious. They got the manpower, resources, and lack of basic humanity to do some seriously twisted shit to you if you cross their paths." They were back in Gordon's office, and Montoya had just finished debriefing Gordon on what Percy had told him. Percy wasn't surprised that he hadn't heard about it, Percy had purposely refrained from filing the full details of the exchange in his statement. And nobody had bothered to pull the tapes from the garage to see if his story checked out. Once Percy said the words 'Black Canary,' any deeper thinking went out the window, such were the power of capes in America these days.

"I know it's not sir, and I appreciate the threat they represent," Percy said,

"I don't think you do." Gordon said, "I get it son. Hotshot like you, four tours with the SEALS, cowboy like you probably thinks he's invincible. But this needs to be a wakeup call for you son. This could have been a lot worse for you." Percy refrained from saying that it could have been a lot worse for the other guys, but he figured the commissioner wouldn't have liked to hear that.

"Any idea why you have capes following you?" Gordon asked, and Percy shrugged.

"I asked but she said that she was just, 'in the neighborhood,' but I'm not buying that." He said,

"Probably the bat making sure you're clean," Gordon huffed, "He's territorial like that,"

"I noticed," Percy said dryly.

Gordon let out a weary breath. "We'll deal with that when we need to I suppose. For now, keep your head on a swivel. I've lost a lot of friends to these bastards,"

"Aw, didn't know you cared sir," Percy snarked.

"Can it, Jackson," Gordon said, as a light appeared on the phone on his desk. Gordon lifted it to his ear, "Yes? Ah, yes, send him in," He said, and replaced the phone. Percy arched a brow but waited patiently. A moment later, the door to the room opened and a man walked in. He was a little over six feet tall. His dark brown hair was styled professionally, and he had bright blue eyes. Dressed in an immaculate navy suit with red-power tie, Percy got positive vibes from the man immediately. He was playing with a coin in his hand, transferring from finger to finger smoothly.

"Jim," Greeted the man jovially,

"Harvey," Grunted Gordon cordially, before gesturing over at Percy and Montoya. "You know Renee already,"

"Hey Harv," Montoya waved from her chair,

"How's it going Renee, mom doing all right?" Dent replied,

Montoya shrugged, "Well enough. Parkinson's a bitch though."

"And this is Detective Percy Jackson." Gordon introduced. "Jackson, this is Harvey Dent, Gotham's District Attorney," Percy rose from his seat and plastered a smile on his face as he gripped the man's hand tightly. He gripped back firmly.

"Nice to finally meet you, sir." Percy said, pulling his hand away,

"Likewise," Dent said with a shinning smile. "Nice to finally put a face to the name." He strode around Percy leaned against the wall by Gordon's desk, and Percy sat back down in his chair, "You've been bust detective, barely in Gotham a month and you've already closed two large cases, and helped fight off the single-largest villain-based attack in the city's history…" He paused, and he continued to play with his coin, "Hell of a job Mr. Jackson,"

"Thank you sir," Percy said with a nod,

"You're welcome," He said, "So, how'd it go with Pyg? He take the deal?"

"Yup," Said Montoya casually, "Hook, line, and sinker."

"Did he know anything?" Dent asked,

"Just that he was working for Falcone," Percy said, and Dent nodded, almost as though he was expecting that,

"Christian or Sal?" He asked, and both Percy and Montoya looked at him in confusion,

"What do you mean? Christian is in charge of the family isn't he?" Montoya asked,

"Oh for fuck's sake," Dent said, sending an exasperated look in Gordon's direction,

"Don't give me that look Harvey," Gordon, "Bullock is working the Falcone case. Up until literally four hours ago we had no reason to suspect to that the family was involved, we were scrambling and we didn't have time to get the story straight."

"Someone mind clueing us in as to what the fuck is going on?" Percy asked.

Dent sighed and looked pointedly at Gordon, who just glared but sighed resignedly and nodded,

"Ok," He began, "So it turns out, we weren't the only ones hurt during that mess a few weeks ago. Bullock has been running an investigation into the Falcone family for months. Outside the purview of the Feds. He told me that they were pretty hurt by the attack. A hell of a lot of their boys were killed by the plants. Businesses they owned or were collecting from were either substantially damaged or outright destroyed. The point is, they're hurting in a real bad way. From what we've been hearing, there are…factions within the family that are looking to move. Specifically Christians younger brother Salvador. Bullock told me that Sal's been real active and vocal about the direction of the leadership."

Gordon pulled out his pipe, lit it, and took a deep pull,

"Bullock tells me that he's been making moves that are pretty fucking far off the reservation. Moving on turf but not kicking it back up to Christian, getting into…trades that the family has been traditionally separate from, such as drug. Or rather, one drug in particular."

"Wonderland," Percy said, as realization hit him, "Fuck me,"

"Bingo," Dent said with a nod, "You get anything on that,"

Montoya snorted, "Rosthein cock-blocked Metro here before he could even get the sentence out, said it wasn't 'part of the deal' and if we wanted that, Valentin would need another deal,"

"Shame he isn't going to get it," Dent said, "Sick fuck like that can rot, that's the justice he deserves." He let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair, "So we don't know which Falcone Valentin was working for. That's fine, not the end of the world. I assume you can still work with this?"

"Yeah," Gordon grunted,

"So what are we looking at here?" Percy asked, "Are we staring down the barrel of a full-scale civil war?"

"Worse," Gordon commented, "Bullock tells me that Sal has been making moves on the Triads and the Russians. We could be looking at not just a civil war, but full on gang war here."

"Awesome," Percy said sarcastically under his breath,

"A situation made all the worse, when one of the only detectives I think I can trust, is deliberately pissing off the head of one of the families." Gordon said with a glare,

"What the hell is that supposed to mean," Dent asked, looking between Gordon and Percy.

"Wonderboy over here," Gordon said, jerking a thumb in Percy's direction, "Had a little run in with Wise."

"Did he now?" Dent said, turning to look at Percy, "And what did he want?"

Percy snorted as he looked over to Dent, "Told me to get on board with him and Falcone or get dead."

"Not in so many words I assume," Dent observed,

"Not so much," Percy affirmed,

"What'd you say?" Dent asked,

"I told him the fucking pecking order, and where he and Falcone fall in it." Percy snarled. He understood the paranoia and the need to interrogate him, but he was starting to get annoyed with everyone assuming he was on the take. "So I told him if he threatened me again, no one would ever find his body,"

Dent whistled and laughed, "I think I like this one, Jim," He said, looking over at Gordon who just grunted, "Where'd ya find him,"

"Metropolis," Percy said,

"Didn't know they raised anything but boy scouts over there," Dent commented jokingly,

"Part of the reason I left," Percy said back,

"All right," Gordon said, getting them back on track. "That is, unfortunately, as much as can be done for today. All the new revelations aside, you two did a hell of a fine job on this one. It's always a good day when tried and true police work wins the day. Take the rest of the night and the weekend, and celebrate, and come back on Monday refreshed and ready for whatever fresh hell Gotham has in store. Dismissed," Percy and Montoya stood up, and nodded respectfully at the two men.

As one, they turned and headed towards the door, Percy opened it and led Montoya out of the office, closing the door behind him, they walked to the elevator.

"Grab a beer?" Montoya asked, "Or something stronger, I still see those fucking pictures every time I close my eyes."

Percy considered for a moment. He still needed to track down Meg, but she hadn't tripped the alarm yet, so Percy figured he had some time yet. And honestly, he could do with a tall glass of rum right about now.

"That sounds phenomenal."

"I know just the place," Montoya said, and led the way out of the building.

---

The door closed behind Jackson, and Gordon let out a heavy breath, and closed his eyes. There were days he really missed being just a simple detective.

"Jim" Harvey said urgently, and Gordon opened his eyes, and nearly groaned when he saw the familiar black-clad vigilante standing by the now open window.

"You even believe in doors?" Gordon asked in exasperation. He could feel a migraine coming on and reached into a drawer on his desk. Grabbing a box of aspirin, he popped three into his mouth and washed them down with a gulp of water.

"So, what's going on?" He asked. Batman didn't say anything, he just approached the desk, and placed an object on the desk. An object that Gordon knew very well.

"What is that?" Harvey asked curiously,

"The encrypted key from the St. Cloud case," Gordon said, picking up the small device and examining it. "You stole it," It wasn't a question.

"I told you that you needed to upgrade your security protocols," Batman replied smoothly,

"Like that would even stop you," Gordon said wearily, placing the drive on the table. "You cracked it then?"

"It's data file, not a key." Batman explained without preamble. "Photos, videos, and recordings of dealings the St. Cloud's had on Christian Falcone. It's evidence of every time the family was threatened, bribed or extorted. There's a video Falcone threatening the family himself. Telling Grace St. Cloud that if she didn't buy in, she and her entire family would be die."

Harvey let out a whistle as he picked up the piece. "Why not hand it over?" He asked, "Give this to us? Let us go after Falcone?"

"Because the department is so secure," Batman replied dryly.

"That's an awful lot of work to go to just store a couple of videos," Gordon commented,

"That's because there's more." Batman explained, "I don't know how, but Grace or Alexander but they got a hold of a lot more. The entire Falcone Black Book is in there. At least what was there prior to the attack."

"Black Book?" Harvey asked, confused, as he put the device back down,

"It's a listing of the entirety of the Falcone family's accounting. Every business, loan shark, broker, and accounting of every member in the family." Gordon said, a small amount of awe in his voice as he stared at the piece,

"That's real?" Harvey asked,

"We learned about it from an informant." Gordon explained, "Found him a day later with a rat shoved down his throat."

"Ok," Harvey said, "But why the hell would they write all that down? Seems like a serious fucking risk if that falls into the wrong hands."

"An operation as large as the Falcone's needs to have some sort of accounting of everything just to keep track of it all." Batman explained,

"This is a fucking gold mine," Gordon said, tapping the device, "None of it would be admissible," Harvey said, "No way in hell," "Doesn't matter," Batman said,

"Start looking into them. Sit on them. They'll slip up, they always do. Have you brought Jackson into the fold?"

"We're working on it. You trust him?" Gordon asked, "You're having him tailed apparently. Care to explain that."

"I have my reasons," Batman replied, "But it's unrelated. He's good and he's clean. I suggest bringing him in. We can use the animosity between him and Falcone to our advantage."

Gordon and Harvey shared confused looks, "How?" Gordon started to say, but when he looked back, Batman had already disappeared. Rolling his eyes at the theatrics, Gordon just slumped in his chair, staring intently at the device on his desk.

"He's a bit of an asshole, isn't he?" Harvey said,

"You don't even know the half of it."

Notes:

Thought that would be the last we heard of old Falcone? Guess again! I got some fun stuff lined up in the next couple of weeks, starting with the next chapter. Percy meets with an old friend and has some very interesting conversations with some characters we really haven't seen much of. Hope you guys are ready for it! Thanks again for all the love and support you all have shown, and I'm glad you're all enjoying the ride as much as I am. As always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week!

Chapter 20: Phone a Friend

Percy let out a satisfied breath as he placed the glass down on the bar. The rum burned pleasantly in the back of his throat, and he felt a hint of warmth spread across his cheeks. Montoya had dragged him to a cop bar, O'Malley's, in celebration of their closure of the case. While they certainly had more questions, and the future seemed to get continually murkier, they were still flush with the thrill that came with the closure of any case.

"So, Metro," Montoya began as she swirled around the Moscow Mule in her hand, "You've been in town for about a month, so now you have to answer the important question."

"And that is?" Percy chuckled,

"Which is better." Montoya said simply, "Gotham or Metropolis,"

"That's a trap," Percy said with a laugh, swiveling in his stool so he was addressing his partner squarely,

"Yup," Montoya said with a grin, "So tell me what I want to hear," Percy laughed, and shook his head.

"It's got its problems, but I think I'm liking Gotham better by the day." He said, as he signaled for the bartender to refill his glass. "Metropolis was definitely cleaner. Didn't have the organized crime issues we have here, but Gotham feels more…familiar, I guess. Reminds me of New York honestly. The people here seem like real people, with real problems. Metropolis wasn't like that. The stereotypes of Metropolites? Fairly accurate. You wouldn't believe the number of people we tracked down that truly thought there was nothing illegal about tax evasion."

Montoya snorted into her glass, "You get a lot of white collar over there?"

Percy nodded, "There was the odd robbery-homicide type deal, but for the most part I dealt with things like corporate fraud, tax evasion, embezzlement, money laundering. Things like that."

"Isn't white collar usually the Bureau's beat?" Montoya asked, and Percy snorted,

"You think the feds wanna touch Metropolis? Home of Superman? Absolutely not. They stay as far away as possible. They have an office, but I don't think I interacted with them more than a handful of times my entire time in the city."

Montoya narrowed her eyes, "Why would they back off just cause Supes is in town?"

"Politics," Percy said simply, and when Montoya just looked confused, Percy explained, "Whether I like it or not, Superman means a hell of a lot, to a lot of people. And regardless of the fact that the man's a bit of an idiot, he does a lot to keep the city, hell the entire planet, safe. The way it was explained to me, was that the Bureau backs off so that Big Blue's image stays powerful. If there were a bunch of federal investigations going on in the city, it would make the Boy Scout look like he's not doing a very good job. If people don't think he's doing a good job, they might try and pull some shit, which makes the city more dangerous." Percy took a long pull of his drink,

"The thing you have to understand is this, Metropolis might as well be the Silicon Valley of the East Coast. There are twenty-five Fortune Five Hundred's that are headquartered in the city. It's a fucking golden goose of tax revenue, and the standard of living is higher per capita, than anywhere else in the country. The city draws enough attention from heavy hitters just because Big Blue is there. The thought is that the Bureau doesn't want to make it a stomping ground for other shit on top of it. Might drive business away, drive down the housing markets, keep people from investing in the city."

"Wait" Montoya said slowly, with a small shake of her head, "That seems real contradictory. Didn't you tell me there are bunkers in the city for when Supes fights some heavy hitter. How is that any better?"

Percy let out a derisive snort, "Because it's more socially acceptable for the city to be ruined by some freak of nature, than it is for it to be ruined by a bunch of powerless monkey's in suits. Alien invasion destroys half the city? That's fine, who could predict that?" He asked sarcastically, "But a bunch of corporate execs stealing the pensions and retirement funds from their day laborers? Well how is Superman supposed to punch that?" Percy downed the rest of his drink, and placed his glass back down on the table in a clatter.

"Jesus," Montoya muttered, "I think I'm starting to get why you hate him so much. He doesn't do anything to stop it?"

"How could he?" Percy asked, "To his credit, the man is busy. Between Metropolis, the Justice League, and dealing with literally any kind of natural disaster anywhere on the planet, the man does have a lot on his plate. Besides, he doesn't know how the legal system works. I told you, he used to just drop people off at the precinct, say 'lock 'em up,' and then fly off. Can you really picture him spending hours and hours behind a desk, meticulously combing through financial statements to put together a case?"

"That is more of the Bat's schtick." Montoya agreed. Her phone chimed and she took a look at it. She waved to the bartender and signaled for him to close her tab,

"Booty call?" Percy asked cheekily,

"Fuck off," She said, though her cheeks did darken slightly, and she escaped his teasing glance as she signed her name at the bottom of her receipt.

"Seems like you'll be doing that soon enough," Percy teased, and she just flashed a rude hand gesture, and Percy laughed.

"I want to meet her," Percy called out as she strode out of the bar,

"See you on Monday Metro," Montoya called out, ignoring the comment. Chuckling, Percy turned to the rest of his drink. He was just bringing the glass to his lips when there was a small jolt that ran through his body. It was the signal from the rune he had placed in the apartment. With a sigh, Percy downed the rest of his glass, and threw down some cash for the drinks and tip, and headed out the door. It was a short walk to his car from the bar, and Percy took the time to burn the remnants of the alcohol from his body. As much as he had been enjoying the buzz, he wasn't about to drive like it.

Getting into his car, he started the engine and pulled out onto the street. He was maybe a block, before his body jolted again. And again. And again. Percy's eyes went wide, that wasn't good. There were now multiple bodies in the apartment. With a snarl, Percy hit the lights and sirens inside his vehicle, and floored it. The engine roared and snarled as he weaved in and out of traffic. It was dangerous and erratic, but Percy didn't care at the moment, there was something going down at the apartment, and he needed to get there. Part of him rationalized that he should pull over and simply mist-travel. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was selfish, but Percy already pushed the limits of what he allowed himself to do, and he wasn't going to push it any further. Percy didn't count his use of the mist. That was something any demi-god could do, and wasn't something he'd inherited from his father, and didn't fall into the category of powers he refused to use.

There was a squawk from the radio on his dash, "10-15 at Royal Oak, any available units acknowledge,"

Percy's heart plummeted, that was Meg's sister's apartment complex.

"Unit 97, en route to 10-15 at Royal Oak." said someone over the radio.

Pressing down on the, throttle, Percy hopped up onto the curb to get around a group of cars stopped at a red light. It took him another five minutes but he came up on the apartment gate. Night was fast approaching, and the moon was rising into the sky, so Percy could clearly see the flashing red and blue lights dancing in the night. Slowing down, Percy pulled into the gate. Looking into the gate, Percy felt his throat constrict. Sitting in the gate guards chair, was the man Percy had spoken to the previous evening. His face was contorted in a look of horror, and fresh blood was still pooling down his front.

Percy pulled into the lot, and started to get out of his car. As he did so, one of the officers who was the first responder stepped toward him, from where he had been inspecting the guard house.

"Detective," he started to say, but Percy stopped him. Percy gripped the mist, and threw down an enormous, multi-layered enchantment down over the entire complex. The officer stopped in his tracks as a slightly glazed look appeared on his face. Percy had essentially put an enormous warding over the apartment complex. Everyone inside would stop where they were, and wouldn't remember anything about Percy being in the complex. Any cameras would stop working, and nobody would be able to enter or exit the area if Percy didn't want them to.

Running past the officer, Percy passed a second officer on the staircase to the building and tore up to the floor of Meg's sister's apartment. The door to the apartment had been kicked in, and Percy drew his weapon as he moved into the apartment. He cleared the apartment quickly, and came back into the living room. It looked like there had been a fight of some sort. The windows had been smashed, one of the chairs had been tipped over, and cushion's were strewn across the floor. There was a claw mark on one the walls, as though a particularly large animal had taken a swipe, and there was a pool of fresh blood by the overturned coffee table.

"Fuck me," Percy breathed out. This was…very not good. He quickly scanned for a moment looking for a trace of the blood. Expanding his senses, he found a trail of blood leading out of the window. Percy ran to it, and tried to see where it went. He didn't have to look too far. Looking straight down, Percy could see a body laying on the ground. Vaulting out of the window, Percy landed in a crouch beside the body.

Leaning down, Percy inspected it. It was a young man, maybe in his early twenties, and fairly good looking. Or at least he had been. Meg must have gotten a few good shots in, because one of his cheeks looked like it had been broken. The man's mouth drew Percy's attention. Leaning down, Percy opened its mouth and swore. The man had a set of very large, and very sharp teeth. Looking at the man's eyes, Percy noted that they were blood red.

"Fucking vampires Meg, really?" Percy hissed under his breath, he had gotten lazy, and had stopped carrying his non-mortal weapons on him. He hadn't thought he'd ever need them again, given his lack of a scent, and self-imposed exile from the divine world. Reaching into his pocket, Percy pulled out a matchbook. Lighting one of the matches, he tossed it on the body. As though it had been covered in gasoline, the entire body combusted at once. It burned for a few seconds, before there was nothing left but a pile of ashes. Stowing the matches, Percy hopped up and back into the apartment to ponder his next move.

Vampires were a nasty breed. More like a meth addict than a teenage wet dream, they truly were the monsters portrayed in the ancient scripts. There was little that modern folklore got correct about them. Only the matter of sunlight was really consistent. Apart from that however, they were every bit the soulless monsters they were originally depicted as. They worked in covens, sometimes as large as twenty members, to find sources of food. While they were hunters of the highest caliber, it was perhaps better to describe them as scavengers. They scoured the sleeping world for blood-rich targets. When they found a suitable target, they kidnapped their victim, and would take turns draining their victim of blood. Savoring their target for weeks in some instances, before all blood had been drained from the poor bastard.

It was likely why they had targeted Meg. While Vampires weren't monsters of their world per se, they could still tell the difference between a mortal and a demigod. To a vampire the blood of a demigod might as well have been their own personal nectar of the gods. Percy figured that they must have made Meg and her friends the second they made it into the city. Percy put the pieces together, Vampires might have been disgusting leeches, but they weren't stupid. They would have instinctually known that they wouldn't have fared well in a fair fight against a demigod. So they would have waited and watched, seeing if they would have found an opening. Against four armed demigods, they didn't stand a chance, but against one, overconfident and unsuspecting kid? That they could have handled. They would have bided their time, tracked her to where she was stuck indoors, where it was harder to maneuver, and jumped her.

Vampires were weak to divine metals, and fire. While Percy was no son of Vulcan, he still had plenty that would work to his benefit for destroying the foul beasts. But he would need to get back to his apartment first, and gather supplies, and that was only if he could determine where they had even disappeared to. He could have perhaps determined where they were, but it would have taken time, and for every second he delayed, it was another second that Meg was being drained.

He was getting desperate enough that he was even considering using his powers more fully. But the only thing coming to his mind was to attempt a form of water divination, something he didn't have much practice in, and quite frankly, didn't think would even work. Divination was Apollo's realm, and Percy didn't want to go diving headlong into another's domain like that. It was only asking for trouble. Swearing again, Percy came to a decision that he most certainly did not like. He was going to have to call in a favor. A favor from someone very particular. With his plan in mind, Percy took a few moments to scavenge the apartment. After looking for a few moments, he found what he was looking for. On the ground, beside the overturned chair, were three locks of hair. They were the same color as Meg's and that would be enough.

Going to the kitchen, Percy scavenged for a second before he found a plastic bag. Putting the hair in the bag, Percy strode from the apartment. Getting in his car, he peeled out of the parking lot, undoing his mist-magic as he left. Pulling his phone free, he dialed up the number to a man he hadn't spoken to in years. He picked up after two rings,

"Hello?"

"Gio," Percy greeted, "Long time, no speak,"

"Percy," Said the man, sounding genuinely pleased, "It's been too long. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Percy stopped at stop sign, and had to wait as a couple crossed the street,

"I hate to be that guy, Gio." He said, "But I need a favor."

"But of course," Gio said quickly, "What's happening?"

"Not over the phone," Percy said quickly, "It's…it's a family thing,"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, "You're in Gotham, yes?"

"Yeah, I am," Percy said,

"Meet me at the corner of 4th and 12th in thirty minutes. We'll talk," Gio said,

"Perfect, need to grab something anyways. Thanks again Gio," Percy said, and ended the call.

Percy turned the car around, ignoring the honks of the agitated drivers as he did so, and took off towards his apartment. He got there in ten minutes, and ran into his bedroom. Throwing open the closet Percy grabbed the old trunk next to his pelican case. It was one of the few gifts that Percy had kept from his youth. Given to Percy as a present for rescuing his son from a rather nasty situation in Baton Rouge by Mercury, it was no ordinary trunk. It was enchanted.

Opening the trunk, Percy unclipped the ladder attached to the inside, and let it fall to the inner contents. Percy climbed into the trunk, and used the ladder to lower himself deep into the contents of the trunk. The inside couldn't have contrasted more from the outward appearance of the trunk. Inside the trunk was akin to a bunker. It was enormous, around the size of a studio apartment. Stone-lined walls were lit with braziers, magically enchanted to always be lit. Along one wall was a vast array of weapons and equipment. Most were placed in racks propped along the wall, a large workshop was pressed up to the edge of the room. There were tools for repair and maintenance in holders. On the table was a press, and other equipment used in making bullets. Under the table was a collection of munitions boxes. Beside the table was a large collection of herbs and vegetation, along with a cauldron. Used for brewing and crafting potions or powders Percy had once used in his line of work.

On the opposite side of the room was a simple bed with a small foot-locker at its head and a dresser. The bunker acted not only as a makeshift armory, but also as a hideout, should Percy need someplace secluded to retreat to. At the end of the room, was a large display mannequin. The mannequin was dressed in a lavish, and ornate set of armor. Different from those typically worn by the Centurions of the Legion, Percy's was not made of Imperial Gold, it was Meteoric Iron. Stolen form the Egyptians centuries ago by Marc Antony, it was far more durable than Imperial Gold, and was a dark, blackish grey. An enormous wolf sigil was carved into the chest piece, and on each forearm bracer.

The armor had been a gift, given to him by Lupa as recompense for his being "promotion." Percy had cherished the armor; it was exactly what he had wanted at a time where he only saw himself as a weapon of the gods. Death incarnate and the deadliest of swords to be pointed at the enemies of Rome.

In a large display beside the mannequin, was a beautiful gladius. Made of a mix of Imperial Gold and Mortal Steel, it was as deadly to man as it was to Monster. The Sword of Mars had a history as bloody and brutal a sword of its type deserved. Given to Attila the Hun by Mars centuries previously, it had carved a brutal and bloody path through the steppes and Rome itself. Mars had originally given the weapon to the hun as a measure against his own people. Mars had grown sick of the games of politics being played by the Romans, and felt that they needed to remember their roots as a militaristic power. It had been Mars' hope that the death and destruction caused by the sword would spur the Empire to return to whence it once had. He had been wrong. At Attila's death, Mars stole the sword back, and had held onto it ever since.

It had been the other gift to Percy, given to him by Mars himself for Percy's promotion to the reinstated office of Praetorian Prefect, an office that had only been reinstated to curb Neptune's wrath for the obvious disrespect to his son. Percy had been consistently passed over for promotion for years, spending years as little more than a grunt in the fifth cohort. At the start of the first war, Percy had been raised to the Primus Pilus, and following his feats in the war, the office had been recreated. The Praetorian Prefect, once the commander of the Praetorian Guard, was precisely the type of position belonging to a man who had dedicated himself to the protection of Rome and the destruction of its enemies. A position with wide latitude, it had given Percy the authority to wage a bloody war across the country against the monsters seeking their destruction. It was a position Percy had held until his resignation. Percy didn't pay any mind to the armor, and walked straight to the foot-locker. Flipping the hatch and opening the locker, Percy pushed aside a few pictures, and grabbed the small wrapped package at the bottom. Unwrapping the package, it was a pair of Single Action Army Cavalry Revolvers. They were as beautiful as when Percy had received them. The silver steel barrels were engraved with a vine-like etching of runes, that stretched all the way across the cylinders, to the cylinder release. The grips were made of a rich Willow, and stained a rich brown. Rewrapping the revolvers, Percy walked over to his workshop. Grabbing one of the munitions boxes under the table, Percy hefted it onto the table, and flipped open the latch. Grabbing a handful of Imperial Gold bullets from the innards, Percy then reached across the table, and grabbed four speed loaders. Percy took his time loading each speed loader, before placing them in his pockets.

He then unwrapped the pistols and inspected them. Once he was content that they were still well-oiled and functioning properly, he meticulously loaded each cylinder. Before rewrapping the revolvers, and tucking them away. He then walked over to the armor display, and pulled the glades from its holder. Examining the blade for a second, Percy held back a sigh. It had been years since he had needed to use the weapon. Half of him didn't want to use it, but he wasn't seeing much of a choice. He was a firm believer in going into a situation with more armaments than he might need, and one never knew when a blade would come in handy. Pressing a small button on the side, the blade disappeared, and Percy was holding a switchblade comb, with a plastic handle. A thrum of excitement coursed through Percy as he held onto the weapon. It had been far too long since Percy had gone to war against the things that went bump in the night. He felt the long-familiar rush of the prospect of a fight flood through him, and his blood seemed to sing. Sighing, Percy stuffed the comb into his pocket, and checked the time. He needed to get moving. He quickly changed out of his work clothes into jeans, a Henley shirt, and comfortable shoes, and a durable coat. Throwing on a belt, shoulder and hip holster. Percy headed out.

---

Percy pulled up on a small, family-owned diner. Pulling the car up to the curb, Percy put the vehicle into park and waited. He didn't have to wait too long. From the alley beside the diner walked a familiar man. He was dressed modestly, in fine looking black pants, and a starched white dress shirt. Over the shirt he wore a yellow vest complete with red bowtie, under a black sport coat. He scanned the area for a few moments before he spotted Percy's car. Grinning, Giovanni Zatara strode over to the car and opened the passenger door, before climbing in.

"Percy!" He greeted happily, extending a hand over the console, which Percy gripped tightly with a grin of his own.

"Good to see you Gio,"

"You as well, old friend," He said as he released Percy's hand, "Now, what can I help you with?" Percy reached into his pocket and pulled the photo of Meg and bag of hair and handed them over to Zatara.

"Demigod daughter of Demeter. She ran away from the camp and is in here in the city. I tracked her down to an apartment owned by her sister. But something's happened, I don't know how but she got in deep with a coven,"

Zatara hissed a curse in Italian under his breathe, "I can find her," He said easily, "But not here." He paused for a second as he seemed to consider something. He came to a decision and got out of the car, gesturing Percy to follow.

Rolling his eyes with the man's enigmatic behavior, Percy did as he was bade and followed the man out of the car. "I could…get into some trouble for where you are about to go," Zatara said, "But I trust that you will keep what you see to yourself,"

Percy arched an eyebrow but nodded, "You know I'm good for it Gio," he said. and Zatara nodded at him.

Percy followed Zatara as he walked back into the alley. They took a turn down a subsidiary alley until they were next to a worn-out looking phone booth. Zatara stepped into it, and turned to look at Percy.

"I have to go first, when I'm through, step into the booth and wait. I'll bring you through from there." Zatara explained, Percy just stared at him in curiosity before finally nodding. Zatara waved his hand over the receiver and Percy blinked in surprise as a holographic computer terminal appeared under his hands. Zatara pressed a command into the keyboard, and something clicked.

"Designation: One-One, Zatara" Said a female computerized voice, there was a brilliant flash of white-light and suddenly Zatara disappeared from sight.

Percy just stared at where his friend had disappeared. After blinking for a few moments, Percy took a cautious step forward and into the telephone booth. Heaving a heavy sigh, Percy ran a hand through his hair.

"Fucking capes."

Notes:

And here. We. Go. The next several chapters are going to be a lot of fun. We're going to be having a lot of action, world-building, and you're going to learn a lot about Percy's character, which is probably far overdue at this point. Not to mention, that Percy is about to be dropped headlong into the very confusing and nonsensical world of superheroes. Hope you guys liked the chapter, and hope you guys enjoy what's to come! Thanks again for all the love and support you all have shown, and I'm glad you're all enjoying the ride as much as I am. As always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week!

Chapter 21: From Twilight Breaks the Dawn

Dinah looked up from where she was working at the computer terminal, when she heard the Zeta-Tube announce Zatara's arrival. She watched as her fellow den-mother stepped out of the large tunnel and approached the the computer beside the exit.

"Thought you were running an errand," She said, as she walked away from the computer.

"I did, and I still am," Zatara said as he keyed a command into the keyboard.

"Where are the children?" He asked,

"Movie night," Dinah said, and Zatara grunted,

"Hopefully they do not come to look, that would be an…uncomfortable conversation," He muttered He looked up and frowned, before pointing at her face,

"Evig yranac reh ksam." He intoned, and Dinah felt something tingle around her, before she suddenly felt a familiar cloth cover her cheeks. Reaching up with a curious hand, she felt the familiar sensation of her cloth mask.

"Thanks?" She asked,

"You will want that," Zatara reassured her, before hitting enter on the keyboard, and the Zeta-Tube roared to life.

"Access Granted. Perseus Jackson. A-O-7. Authorization. Zatara. One-One."

Dinah felt her heart fall through her chest as she stared at Zatara, but she didn't have time to demand an explanation. Schooling her features, she watched as the light died down, and the familiar form of Percy Jackson staggered into the Mountain. He looked around him, and checked the tunnel behind him, before turning back and looking up and around the mountain. He let out a low whistle,

"Sure beats that apartment back in Vegas," He said to Zatara, who chuckled good naturally,

"I happened to like that apartment," The man said back, and then Percy's eyes met Dinah's and she fought to keep her features schooled. She was indeed very grateful that Zatara had given her the mask.

"Zatara," She asked, subtly activating her voice modulator, "Care to explain why we have a Gotham City detective in the cave?"

"Good to see you again too Canary," Percy said cheekily. "I missed those heavily modified, synthesized tones of yours."

Well, he certainly seemed to have gotten some of his swagger back, Dinah thought to herself as she examined the man more closely. He certainly looked better too. He still had the bags under his eyes, but he no longer looked like he was spoiling for a fight from anyone willing to throw down.

"Percy here is running an investigation which requires my…unique brand of expertise." Zatara said smoothly. Before turning to Percy, "We missed you at the funeral by the way,"

"Funeral?" Percy asked, "What happened?" Zatara just stared at him for a moment, before a look of deep regret washed over his face,

"Gods above Percy. I'm so sorry, I though you'd heard. Kent is dead," Zatara explained. Percy's eyes widened in shock, before a look of pain washed over his features.

"How," He demanded, his voice somewhat croaky. "Klarion," Zatara explained, and then Percy's entire demeanor shifted. He went from mournful to apocalyptically furious within a blink of an eye,

"That little shit," Percy growled, "I thought I told him to stay off this fucking plane."

"Apparently he did not heed your threat," Zatara said with a deep sigh, "He broke into the Tower with the help Abra Kadabra in an attempt to steal the helmet."

"He didn't get it, did he?" Percy asked quickly and Zatara raised his hand and calmly rested it on Percy's shoulder,

"Relax, my friend. The helmet is safe. The Witch-Boy will not be getting his claws on it any time soon."

"I'm sorry," Dinah interrupted, "But how the hell do you two know each, and better yet, how do you," She pointed at Percy, "Know Kent Nelson?"

Percy and Zatara shared a glance, "We…worked together for a time. With a few others. It is…a long story. Longer than we have the time to tell unfortunately," Zatara transitioned smoothly and looked at Percy, "There is something which I must collect from storage. I shall be right back." He said, before striding out of the room, leaving Percy and Canary alone in the cave, and Dinah alone with her thoughts to consider how in the hell Percy and Zatara knew each other. The way it sounded, was that the two worked with Kent Nelson on something, likely something to deal with the supernatural.

"So-" Percy began to say but was interrupted. There was a blur of movement, and Dinah couldn't cover her groan as she watched Wally come flying into the room.

"Hey! Who's here? Canary, what's with the mask? What's going on? Is it a mission? Is it-?" He stopped abruptly when he spotted Percy. His eyes went wide and his body went slightly slack as he stared.

"Let me guess," Percy said, "Flash-junior, or whatever, right?"

"It's Kid Flash!" Wally shouted, his face turning slightly red,

"Kid!" Dinah said loudly, cutting him off before he could get too wound up, "Forget something?" She asked, gesturing to his face. Wally's face paled as his non-bandaged arm went up to his unconcealed face, and then he darted from the room. Heaving a weary sigh, she opened the comms to the entire mountain,

"Kid's, we have a guest. Anyone with a cover, put your mask on until I give you the all clear," She announced, her words reverberating around the Cave. She just hoped that they wouldn't come looking, though she somewhat doubted that. Still, if they did, better that they were covered. It would not end well if Artemis showed up and Percy recognized her. It would become uncomfortable for a number of reasons.

"So the rumors are true then," Percy scoffed, "League's resorting to child soldiers to fight its battles now, huh?" He asked, looking slightly disgusted. Dinah shifted uncomfortably. She had her own problems with the sidekicks…partners. She loved Roy like a little brother, but Dinah was deeply uncomfortable with exposing children to the life. It was…wrong. They weren't mentally mature enough to deal with the ramifications of what was going on. She only had to look at Robin and Kid Flash to see that. To them, it was all just a game. All in fun. They got to be heroes, fight villains, live the dream of every little kid on the planet. But they didn't realize how much the league hid from them. Even Batman shielded his protege from the real horrors of the world. It was wrong, but at the same time, Dinah knew something about the kids, they wouldn't stop just because the League didn't approve. So in her mind, it was better that they be working under supervision, than working on their own.

Still, she could understand Percy's point of view. Especially given what Diana had told her about the life of Demigods. She was sure Percy was drawing an awful lot of parallels between the partners and the demigods.

"It's…complicated," She said, and Percy snorted,

"I bet it is," He muttered sarcastically, as he turned to examine the room,

"I always heard rumors that ya'll had secret hideouts…a little different to have those rumors confirmed." He said to himself, before he turned around. The sound of footsteps approached the hall and the kids all emerged from the media room, looking curious.

"Gods be good they're breeding," Percy muttered to himself, there was a loud crash as something heavy fell to the floor. Kaldur had dropped the glass he was carrying and was staring at Percy, a look of awe and adoration on his face. Dinah watched as Percy's eyes flashed to the gills on Kaldur's neck and he groaned softly,

"Oh for fuck's sake," He muttered.

Kaldur dropped to the ground in a prostrated bow, his friends all looking at him in confusion,

"Your grace," He said reverently, "I did not know-I had no idea you were-" "Oh for the love of-" Percy said in exasperation, "Fucking Atlanteans. Stand up kid, you're embarrassing yourself,"

"But your grace-" Kaldur tried to say,

"I'm not any kind of grace kid, now stand up for the love of the gods." Percy said, sounding increasingly annoyed,

"Um Kaldur," Said M'gann, "Why are you bowing to him like that?"

"Better question," Said Robin, glaring in Percy's direction, "Why is there a Gotham City detective in the secret," He stressed the word, "Cave?"

"He is no mere police officer," Kaldur said, still on the ground, "He is the true-born son of-"

"Enough!" Percy roared, and the air around them grew incredibly heavy for a minute, and the kids all fell back into a defensive posture. Conner took a step and positioned himself by Kaldur, who had flinched at Percy's outburst.

"Name's have power kid." Percy said sternly, "Don't use them so flippantly," He strode over slowly, and crouched down beside the prostrating Atlantean, "You look familiar," Percy said for a second, "Kaldur'ahm, right?" Percy asked,

"Yes, your-erm-yes sir," Kaldur said, "We-we met…many years ago. You-you came to Atlantis for-"

"Right," Percy said quickly, grabbing Kaldur by the arm and hefting him off the ground, "Forgot about that,"

"Still doesn't explain why you're here," Robin demanded, and Percy turned to the kid,

"I'm tracking someone down who's gotten into it with some things she shouldn't have, and now I need to find her. Zatara is helping me out," Percy said, knowing that the kids wouldn't leave him alone without some sort of explanation,

"And what's this person in danger from?" Asked Wally, as he raced back in, his costume on.

"None of your business," Percy said,

"I think I'd like to know too," Dinah said, speaking up for the first time in a while.

"And I think I'd like you all to leave me alone," Percy shot back,

"You got some brass ones on you, coming here and demanding help from one of our own without even telling us what he's helping you with," Artemis said, and Percy just stared at her. Artemis had forgotten to use her voice modulator, and Percy clearly recognized the voice,

"I know you?" He asked, and Artemis shifted uncomfortably,

"I'm a hero, of course you do," She said back hotly,

"I believe we deserve to know why you need help from the League, detective." Dinah said, diverting the conversation before Artemis blew her own cover. Percy turned and stared at her for a moment. Finally he sighed,

"Fine, suppose I owe you anyway. Still think you shouldn't have stopped me, but fair is fair." He said, "Vampires have kidnapped my niece."

Wally snorted, "Vampires? Seriously? We let this nut-job into the cave,"

"They're real kid." Percy said, "Nasty mother-fuckers too. Nothing like what you see in the books and tv. They ain't pretty. They look more like heroine addicts at the end of a week-long bender."

"And what do these 'vampires' want with your niece?" Wally asked sarcastically,

"Wally!" Dinah chided, "Kid Flash putting his foot in his mouth aside, your niece is only fourteen, what could they want with her."

"They want to use her as a blood bag." Percy said, and the rest of the team just stared at him, "T-they…what?" M'gann asked, looking a little sick,

"They want to use her as a blood bag," Percy repeated, before turning to look at Dinah, "Our blood…it's different. Vampire's love it more than anything. Kid was probably broadcasting what she was for miles, or something and they swooped in and snatched her. Probably have her hanging around someplace and taking their turns draining her slowly. It can take weeks if they're careful about it."

"That's-that's…." M'gann whispered,

"That's reality," Percy said,

"Ok this is stupid," Wally said, throwing his hands in the air, "There is no such thing as vampires!"

"You're pretty close-minded, ain't ya?" Percy asked,

"There has been no scientific data proving the existence of anything like human vampirism," Wally said hotly,

Percy just chuckled, and pointed at the kid, "Denial's not just river in Egypt kid," He said, "But it doesn't matter anyway. Soon enough, Gio will have the coordinates for me and I'll be out of your hair,"

"Your gr-Percy," Kaldur corrected, stepping towards him, "Please, allow me to aid you in your quest. It would be my genuine honor."

"Absolutely not," Percy and Dinah said at the same time. Percy shot Dinah a curious look,

"Vampires?" She asked, ignoring his curiosity

"Would have figured you for a skeptic," Percy observed,

"You work this job long enough, and you tend to have a more open mind than most," She said, before addressing the kids, "But we don't know what these things can do, and I'm not sending you after something you aren't prepared,"

"More importantly," Percy said, "You can't kill them, you're not equipped for it."

"K-kill them?" Wally asked, looking aghast,

"Oh don't give me that look," Percy said with a roll of his eyes, "They're already undead. They don't have a heartbeat. Besides, they literally revel in the death of others."

"What do you mean we're not equipped for it?" Artemis demanded, "Just need a wooden stake right?"

"You weren't listening earlier," Percy said, "These things ain't like the stories. A wooden stake through the heart? That ain't gonna cut it."

Dinah sidled up to his side, noting as she did so that Conner was looking at her intently, she just hoped the boy would continue playing the stoic. He'd been silent so far.

"What does kill them?" She asked in an undertone, and Percy turned so that his back was facing away from her,

"Divine metals," Percy whispered, "I got some things that'll turn 'em to dust."

"What are divine metals?" Conner asked and Dinah's face squished as she swore under her breath as Percy arched an eyebrow,

"Super hearing?" He said, turning to the speaker, and his eyes narrowed when they landed on Conner's face and as he saw the shield on his chest,

"Didn't know the boy scout had a kid running around." Percy said, crossing his arms. Dinah did not think she liked where this was going.

"He doesn't," Conner said tersely,

"Could have fooled me," Percy shot back, "You're his spitting image. You're what, sixteen? How did Big Blue hide you for all these years?"

"Because I'm his clone, not his son," Conner snapped, and Dinah groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course, why not just let slip one of the single biggest secrets the League was hiding to a complete unknown. Though Dinah could hardly fault the boy, he was still learning the tricks of the trade.

Percy for his part just stood there. Slightly slack-jawed and staring at Conner.

"Gods above kid," Percy said finally after a second, "Thats…well that kind of fucking sucks. He know about you?"

Conner snorted, "Sure. Dumped me off here and then took off. Refuses to even see me, let alone talk to me."

Percy snorted, "Dead-beat dads, that's something I understand," "He's not my father, he just donated to my DNA." Conner shot back hotly, and M'gann placed a soothing hand on his shoulder,

"Wow," Percy said, looking slightly surprised,

"What?" Conner demanded,

"Nothing…just…nostalgia." Percy said, "So, what? You have his powers or something?"

"Some of them," Conner admitted, "But not others."

"And he's not teaching you how to use them?" Percy asked incredulously, looking at Dinah accusingly,

"Don't look at her like that!" Conner said hotly, taking a step forward. "I don't need him, Canary's been more helpful than he ever could,"

"I'm not questioning her abilities or her willingness to teach you," Percy said, "But how is she supposed to teach you how to control your power. You got his strength right?" He nodded, "How well is someone without super-strength supposed to teach you how to limit your punch so you don't break someone's neck with one punch? How to fight while minimizing the collateral damage around you, any of it!" Percy paused, "Well, I guess as far as collateral damage is concerned Supes won't be of much help there either,"

Connor's eyes narrowed in thought for a second, but Dinah was somewhat thankful. She'd been trying to figure out a way to bridge the gap between her and Conner in terms of controlling his strength. Kaldur did what he could, but even he didn't really know how to explain it.

"You're a walking nuke, kid." Percy said, "It's not meant as an insult, but you need to be aware of the facts. You got strength and power but no clue how to use it properly, and the one person who should be teaching you how to use it, so you don't accidentally destroy a building or level a city, is running away like a godsdamned coward."

Percy seemed to come to a decision as he fished in his pocket for a moment. He grabbed a phone and pulled it out. He clicked a few commands into the phone, and they could hear it ring for a moment, Dinah could tell that he was making some kind of a video call. Part of her thought she ought to be stopping this, but she was far too curious about what he was about to do.

There was a click as the call connected, and a familiar voice spoke from the phone, and Dinah felt her stomach drop.

"Percy Jackson as I live and breath." Lois Lane said over the phone,

"He Lois, how ya been?" He asked, a small smile working onto his face,

"Busy as hell. You?" She asked,

"Same. Gotham has been hectic," He said,

"So I hear. By the way, I got a bone to pick with you. A couple weeks ago, you call Jimmy and not me. What's up with that Manhattan?" She said, and from the tone of her voice, she sounded genuinely agitated,

"I did call you Lois," Percy said, arching an eyebrow, "Four times. But you were busy chasing down capes,"

"Oh," Lois said, sounding slightly embarrassed, "Right, sorry about that Percy, I just-"

Percy just waved her off, "I get it Lois, relax. Unfortunately, I didn't just call you to catch up though,"

"Uh oh," Lois said teasingly, "That's your serious voice, ok what's up?"

"Did you know that Superman has a clone?" He asked bluntly, and Dinah could feel a migraine coming on. There was utter silence for a few seconds before Lois finally spoke up,

"Percy…" She said slowly, "That's not funny,"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Percy asked, "I'm completely serious. I'm running a job with Zatara, and he took me to a…lair? I think this is a lair, hey Canary, is this a lair?" Dinah just groaned,

"Percy, focus," Lois said, snapping her fingers,

"I'm going to go with lair. So I'm in this lair right, and there's all these kids belonging to the capes. Well one of them looks like the spitting image of your Boy Scout. Same voice too. Turns out, kid's a clone."

"I don't believe you," Lois said flatly, and Percy just shrugged. Deciding that this might actually work out in her favor, Dinah walked over to the phone and snagged it out of Percy's hand,

"Hey!" He said indignantly, but Dinah ignored him,

"Hey there Lois," She said, and Lois's eyes widened,

"Canary," She said in surprise, then her eyes narrowed, "This is true then…isn't it?"

Dinah nodded, "Cadmus," She said by way of explanation and Lois swore, "He didn't tell you did he?"

"You think?" Lois asked sarcastically,

"Let me talk to him," She said , and Dinah nodded, before walking over to Conner and handing the confused looking teen the phone, "Jesus," Lois said, "You really are his spitting image aren't you?"

"I guess…" Conner said uncertainly, "Are-are you really Superman's boss?"

Lois smirked, "Kid, I got his ass in a sling."

Patting Conner on the shoulder so that he could speak to the woman, Dinah walked over to Percy, who was watching the interaction.

"Pretty nice for a guy who claims to hate Capes," She observed, and Percy just grunted,

"Kid didn't choose to be born, or made," He said softly, watching as the other kids started talking in hushed tones, as they let Conner speak to Lois. "He comes into the world against his will, with all of these powers and abilities, and the one person who should be there to help him sort out the bullshit, abandons him at the first chance. Guess you can say that I understand that."

Dinah averted her gaze.

"Besides, it's clear that the kid is going to be out there doing this superhero bullshit regardless of what I want. Not like anyone would prosecute y'all anyways for endangering kids like this," Percy said caustically, and Dinah flinched, "So I'd rather the walking weapon know how to use his abilities, and didn't accidentally kill someone."

Dinah was saved from responding as Zatara came striding back into the hall. He was carrying a bundle in his arms, and Dinah could make out what looked like a bunch of leaves and other herbs, a small mortar and some chalk. He stopped and stared at the gathering in slight annoyance,

"Making friends, Percy?" He asked,

"You know me," Percy said, stepping away from Dinah, "It's what I do best," He strode over to follow Zatara as he placed the bundle he was carrying down on the computer terminal. "Thaumaturgy?" Percy asked,

"Yes," Zatara said easily, "You have made it easier since you have a sample of hair, but I assume you are looking for a precise location?"

Percy nodded,

"I figured as much, that makes this a little more difficult. If they were casting magic, I would be able to detect it and focus in on it. But unfortunately, the minute amount of magic in your nieces blood makes this…complicated. We have to go a bit more…"old school," with the magic." Percy snorted and stepped away and grabbed the mortar and started pounding the vegetation into powder as Zatara got to work.

Zatara pulled out a piece of chalk and began etching a sigil into the floor, he then took the mortar from Percy and placed it in the center.

"What is the girl's name?" Zatara asked, as he placed the photo and hair into the bowl,

"Megara Smith," Percy said, and Zatara nodded, then he swiped his hand over a control panel, and a large geographical map of Gotham appeared in front of them.

"Hohs su eht noitacol fo aragem htims!" The magician intoned, as he lit a match and threw it into the mortar. There was a flash of blinding light, and then the map suddenly beeped. A dot had appeared.

"Of course it's the fucking Narrows," Percy sighed. Dinah couldn't help but agree. Gotham City as a whole was poor, but the Narrows were a slum in a slum. It was similar to Skid Row in L.A. A horrifying collection of all of Gotham's homeless, collected in one location. It was home to the violent, mentally unstable, and the hopeless.

"Do you require assistance?" Zatara asked, and Percy shook his head as he reached into his coat and withdrew a small package. Unfolding it on the computer terminal, Dinah watched in interest as a pair of beautifully restored, 18th century revolvers, fell out of the wrapping. Zatara's eyes widened.

"Are those…"

"Jonah's, yeah." Percy said, with a small smile as he tucked the pistols into the holsters on his shoulder and hip. "Before he died, he sent them to the post office in New York, to be delivered to me when we came back. Delivery guy said they'd been waiting there for years." He said with a laugh, one shared by Zatara. Dinah could only feel bewildered, as she clearly missed out on what the hell they were supposedly talking about. "All right," Percy said, taking another look at the map, "I know where that is, I'll call you when it's done. Thanks again for this Gio," He said, clapping Zatara on the back.

"Of course, my friend," Zatara said happily, beaming widely. "And please, do not be a stranger any longer. Zatanna misses you," Percy smiled softly, "I'll visit," He promised, and headed over to Conner to grab his phone. She watched as they had a short exchange, followed a brief conversation with Lois, before Percy hung and tucked his phone away. He reproached,

"I need to be quick about this, which unfortunately means I need to mist-travel." Percy said with a grimace. "Where are we?" He asked,

"Happy Harbor, Rhode Island," Zatara said, and Percy snorted,

"Explains why I feel so good," He muttered, "All right, Gio, I'm off. Canary, always a pleasure. Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope we don't see each other again," He said, and Dinah ignored the way her chest constricted at the blasé comment. So she opted not to say anything. The air grew heavy, and it looked for a moment as though Percy was about to leave, when a voice called out,

"Detective, wait," Dinah blinked in confusion, as she saw Batman appear from the shadows of the cave, and approach. Percy's entire demeanor changed, he was no longer standing loose and aloof, but he was tense, and his jaw was clenched,

"Listen pal," Percy began, looking righteously angry, "If this is another bullshit 'stay off my turf,' threat, you can shove it-"

"Approach from the west." Batman said, ignoring Percy. Percy blinked,

"What?" He asked, "Approach from the West," Batman repeated, pointing to the map that was till up. His finger traced along a street, "Specifically West Boulevard. The homeless population there is far more docile. Approach form the east and you'll have to walk straight through a neighborhood of highly mentally unstable individuals." He then brought up an image of the building Meg was in, "This building was closed six years ago for rot. The third and fourth floors are structurally unstable, you'll want to keep away from the support pillars here and here," He said, pointing at the pillars in question. "And the wind is coming in an easterly direction, you'll be approaching against the wind, carrying your scent, your mortal one anyway, away from the building."

Percy blinked, then approached the table and inspected what the Dark Knight was advising,

"Looks like there's a sub-basement too," Percy commented to himself,

"Entrance only from the interior of the building. Likely guarded. Going to have to take that quiet or else risk them gutting her before I get there." Batman nodded his agreement, "Likely positions are going to be along the eastward windows, they face the bulk of the traffic up and down the street." he waved a hand at the map, and it rotated, showing that it was abutting Gotham Bay. Sliding his hand again, the picture shifted again, "There is also a storm drain abutting the building here. Entrance from the sea should put you right on top of them before they even know what's happening." Percy nodded to himself, before straightening up.

"Uh, thanks," He said uncomfortably, Batman just nodded and extended a hand in his direction,

"I saw what you did on the Valentin case. That was good work. Well done detective," Percy looked so confused, that Dinah would have laughed if she hadn't been sharing the feeling. What in the hell was this?

Percy slowly gripped the other man in a shake, but quickly released it,

"Thanks…" Percy said, uncertainly, "Just glad the bastard is behind bars." He looked like he had no idea what was going on. Shaking his head like a dog, Percy took a step back, and then disappeared in a flurry of mist and water vapor.

"Uh Batman," Dinah said, staring at where Percy just disappeared, because apparently he could teleport now. "What the hell was that?"

"What was what?" Batman said, as he turned around to the computer monitor and pulled up a live feed of the building Percy was about to storm.

"That," She said, gesturing vaguely at where Percy had been, "You've been having me tail him for weeks now. You gave him the whole, 'stay out of my city' speech, you've been trying to find dirt on him since he arrived, and now you're suddenly playing nice? I'm sorry but am I missing something?"

"I wanted to see how he'd react," Batman said simply as he typed commands into the computer,

"What?" Dinah asked, sharing an exasperated look with Zatara,

"Back at the auction. I wanted to gauge his reaction. I acted especially hostile and abrasive because I wanted to see what he would do. I did as I did now, for the same reason, and to keep him off balance. He know's we're watching him, and if he's just been feigning cooperation this whole time, I want to know." Batman said breezily,

"I can assure you, Batman, that Percy Jackson is a good man. He means your city no harm. He only wishes to live as normal a life as possible." Zatara said, coming to his friend's defense,

"We'll talk about your relationship with detective Jackson later." Batman said, and Zatara narrowed his eyes, "But right now, I'm not worried about him going dark. I spoke with Diana, as well as Jason Blood. Both have spoken to me at length about his moral compass. I do not believe that he means Gotham harm,"

"But?" Dinah said,

"But he's still a son of the Earth-Shaker." Batman said, "His powers are tied to his emotions. He gets too angry, too emotional, and he could sink Gotham into the sea even if he doesn't mean to. He needs to be monitored. I have other reasons for watching him, but that's the only one you need right now."

The camera feed zoomed in, and they watched as Percy appeared out of an alleyway, and jumped into the harbor,

"Whatever his reasons for being in Gotham, when that man loses control, people die."

---

Percy pulled himself out of the sea, and climbed onto the bank behind the building. One of the perks of his heritage meant that he never had to worry about wet clothing. Crouching behind a door at the back of the building, Percy opened his senses. Both Zatara and Batman had been right. He could see at least nine bodies in the basement. One was tied up, and unmoving. Judging by the erratic beating of their heart, they were petrified. That confirmed that Meg was here, or at least that someone was here, either way, Percy would be moving in. He then checked the top of the stairs leading to the basement and could see two others stationed there. They didn't appear to be carrying weapons, which wasn't a surprise. Vampires had all the natural weapons they'd ever need, most didn't concern themselves with mortal weaponry.

Pulling out his lockpicks, Percy reached out to the mist, and layered a ward over the door, blocking it from making any noise. He then cast another layer over himself, cancelling out his human scent, and silencing his footsteps. Picking the lock on the door, Percy pushed it open as he drew one of the revolvers from his hip holster. Thumbing one of the runes on the grip, the gun vibrated with energy for a minute, before it fell still. The weapon wouldn't make any noise now until Percy turned off the rune.

He then reached out to his father's domain. Cloaking himself in water water molecules, Percy could use them to refract natural light away from him, essentially making him invisible. It wan't true invisibility, but it worked well enough.

Stepping out from around his cover, one of the vamps was leaning against a support pillar, looking thoroughly bored. The other was picking at his teeth with a long pointed finger. Percy had to fight back a gag, the smell of dried blood and body odor was so strong, Percy wouldn't have been surprised, if they couldn't have smelled him even if Percy had been standing right behind them. Not wanting the bodies to drop and alert the others, Percy reached down and grabbed a small pebble on the ground. Taking aim, Percy tossed it behind the second man, and it smack against the far wall.

Both vamps looked up, their fangs coming free from their lips. The vamp near Percy gestured to the other to check it out. The second one snarled, but complied, as it stalked off towards the source of the noise. The second its back was turned, Percy crept up to the second. Placing the barrel of his revolver behind the monster's head, Percy pulled the trigger. There was a flash of light but no sound, as the monster exploded into golden dust. Not hesitating, Percy took off to the second leech. It was peering out a far window, trying to find whatever the source of the noise had been. Pulling the trigger a second time, there was another flash and Percy had to brush the dust off of him as flecks of gold landed on his shoulders.

Turning away, Percy scooted down the stairs, his revolver held out in front of him. Peeking around the corner, Percy looked into the room. Three of the vampires were perched on boxes in one corner playing cards. Two others were lounging in a pair of beach chairs watching tv on an ancient looking tube. The sixth was laying down in a worn and lumpy-looking bed, reading from a worn text. Turning his attention, to Meg, Percy felt a swell of anger burble in his chest. Meg was chained to a support pillar in the middle of the room, one of her eyes was yellowish-purple and swelling badly. Her lip was split and bleeding, and her nose looked like it was broken. Her arms were chained above her, and her shoulder was twisted, Percy guessed that it was dislocated.

Percy's eyes landed on the puncture wounds on her neck, her skin, normally fairly pale in complexion, was nearly chalk-white. Percy released a breath from his nose, Vampires always had a hard time controlling themselves around demigods. When they got their fangs in, it was difficult for them to stop, they must have drained her damn near empty. Percy waved a hand, and cast a mist-magic spell. Simulating a false smell somewhere upstairs, all heads immediately turned in the direction of the stairs.

"You two," The one on the bed, a woman with raggedy black hair that was a ratted tangle snarled, "Go check that out."

The two watching tv growled, but they stood up from their chairs and slunk out of the room and up the stairs. Percy waited, forcing himself not to act as the two passed him up the stairs. Percy waited it out, seeing what the reaction was going to be, if the two upstairs called in that their friends were missing, either they'd send more up to take a look, or they'd start getting ready to leave.

There were a few beats where nothing happened, before a voice called out down the stairs,

"Keith and David aren't here!" One of them called down, and the woman on the bed rose to her feet, judging her to be the boss, Percy watched her intently. "Search the building! Find them! They probably fucked off somewhere upstairs." She ordered, her words coming out slightly slurred because of her fangs. Before she sat back down on the bed. Content that she wasn't going to go anywhere, Percy turned and head up the stairs.

Vampire's didn't have real blood pumping through their veins, but they did have the blood of Meg in their system, making them easy to spot. one was heading up to the third floor, and the other was heading outside to check the front entrance. Taking the isolated man upstairs first, Percy quickly met the man on the stairs. Leveling his revolver on the man, Percy pulled the trigger and he exploded in a puff of dust. Seeing the other man was nearby, wandering around the front of the building, Percy walked over to a nearby broken window, and hopped out. Percy landed on the ground right in front of him. Before the creature could do more than blink in surprise at the sudden thud in front of him. Percy had grabbed him around the front of the shirt, and had shoved his revolver into the man's forehead. Another quick pull of the trigger, and there were four dead vamps.

Switching the revolver to his left hand, Percy pulled the second revolver free and marched back into the building. Coming to the bottom of the stairs, Percy leveled one of the weapons on the vamp in the bed, the one Percy thought was the head leech, and the other revolver on a vamp pacing nervously in front of Meg. With a simultaneous pull of both triggers, there was a dual flash of light, and gold dust covered much of the room. Meg's eyes widened in surprise, as some flecks of gold landed on her shoulders and in her hair. Percy turned, looking for the last vampire, only to stumble back as something large and heavy slammed into his mid-section. All of the wind left Percy's lungs, as he was thrown to the concrete ground. His head smacked off the concrete, and his vision went black for a second as his ears started ringing. He felt as both revolvers went skittering out of his hands as he fell. Blinking the stars and darkness away, Percy quickly raised his hands in front of himself, blocking the incoming clawed hand that intended to rip his throat wide open.

Blocking the attack, Percy clamped his hands around the monster's wrists and using his superior strength, Percy spread the monster's wide across his body and Percy placed a foot on its chest and kicked. With keening screech, it flew through the air, colliding with the far wall. Vampire's were fast though, and as soon as Percy was on his feet, the monster had recovered and was swinging a clawed hand at him. Percy ducked under the swipe, sliding behind the vampire. Wrapping his arms around its chest, he heaved. Lifting the monster into the air, Percy leaned back and twisted, driving his momentum forward and threw it into the ground. It cried out again in pain, and Percy straddled its back. He reached into his pocket and tried to grab onto his switchblade comb but he wasn't fast enough. The monster pushed up from the ground and Percy tumbled from its back. Rolling back to his feet, Percy stepped out of the way as it lunged for him. Percy grabbed the arm as it drove past him, and he threw the vampire into the wall. Swinging viscously, Percy stunned the vampire with two devastating haymakers to its temples. But it recovered far too quickly, and Percy had to duck as it lunged for him. Percy hip tossed the monster to the ground. Grabbing the switchblade comb from his pocket, he hit the button on the side and the Sword of Mars reappeared in his hand. The vampire roared in fury and charged again, but Percy sidestepped, driving down with his sword as he did so. Percy felt the weapon tear right through the neck of the monster, which exploded into gold dust.

Breathing heavily, Percy extended his senses and made sure that there was no one else in the building. Once he was satisfied, he turned his attention back to Meg, who was staring at him in wide-eyed amazement.

"Hey kid," Percy said, hitting the button on his sword and stowing the comb in his pocket,

"Let's get you home,"

Notes:

Well that was a lot of fun! Next chapter? Even more fun, with a heavy, heavy dose of character development for Percy. It's been a long time coming, but it's kind of what a lot of the themes of this arc have been building towards. Can't wait for ya'll to read it! Hope you guys liked the chapter, and hope you guys enjoy what's to come! Thanks again for all the love and support you all have shown, and I'm glad you're all enjoying the ride as much as I am. As always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week!

Chapter 22: Rough Waters

It was silent, save for the rumble of the engine as they drove through countryside. Percy took a sip of coffee from his thermos and he frowned, he should have added more creamer, it was a bit too bitter for his taste. He put the thermos back in the cup-holder and adjusted himself in the seat. It was early enough in the morning that the roads were pretty much empty. Driving through New York City had been a breeze, and by the time the sun started rising, they were on the other side of the city.

As soon as he got Meg free, Percy took her back to his apartment for first aid. He called Zatara as he cleaned up her wounds and gave her some first aid. It hadn't taken much to convince Meg to get in the car to get out of town. Kid hadn't said a word since Percy pulled her out of the building, not that he was all that surprised. She had come face to face with the reality that demigods were not invincible. It was a lesson they all had to learn eventually, but some lessons were learned far more painfully than others.

Percy had slipped some sleeping medication into her drink before they left, and by the time they hit the road, the girl was fast asleep in her seat. Leaving Percy to drive peacefully for the past several hours.

"So what, no lecture," And the peace is broken. Percy looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "You really need one?"

She shrank into her seat, and looked out the window, "That's what I thought," Percy said with a nod, "You don't need me to tell you that you've been a fucking idiot."

"No," She softly, "Just figured you'd have some kind of speech. That's what the others will do. Yell at me about being reckless or something,"

Percy snorted, "You're not my responsibility, just a pain in my ass. Haven't slept more than three hours a night for the last week 'cause I've had to try tracking you down."

She frowned, and changed the subject "The others…" She said, "Are they ok?"

"Do you really care?" He asked, but didn't give her a chance to respond, "Yeah they're ok. Blessed by Fortuna maybe, since one of 'em was bleeding out feet from my apartment. But they'll live, they've been back at camp for a few days now."

She flinched, and curled into herself a little, before she frowned, "Wait," She said, looking at him, "They didn't ask you to find me?"

Percy scoffed, "Ask? No. Like I said, I found your friends in the alley by my apartment and got dragged into this mess. Gonna have a long chat with Chiron about keeping you kids out of my city,"

"What does that mean?" She asked,

"Never you mind kid," He said, "Don't talk down to me," She snapped,

"You tried to break into Arkham and manipulate one of the most dangerous people on the planet. I'll talk to you however I damn well please!" Percy snapped back,

Her eyes widened, "It was you!" She said, "You're the one who destroyed my plants!"

"Damn right I did," He said, "Lucky I did too. Better it was me who grabbed you rather than someone else,"

"Lucky?" She shouted, "Because of you, I had to go back out! If you had just left well enough alone, I would never have been ambushed by those monsters,"

"Yes you would have." Percy said with a roll of his eyes, "Those things made you the second you walked into the city. They were just waiting until you were nice and vulnerable. When you ditched your pals, it was a matter of when they jumped you, not if."

"Bullshit!" She said acidly, "It's because of you that-"

Percy cut her off with a caustic laugh, "It's always someone else's fault, never yours right?" He said bitingly, "Can't ever be your fault, you're just always the victim. Can't be held accountable for your own shit because you were provoked right? Gimme a break," He rolled his eyes,

"What would you know?" She said hotly, "You got no idea what its like, being the child of some 'middling' goddess, you're the son of one of the three!" Percy just stared over at her, and she smirked in triumph, "Yeah, that's right, I know who you are Percy Jackson. Hero of the Battle of Half-Blood Hill. Slayer of Titans, all that crap. What would you know what it's like. You must have been worshipped from the time you could walk,"

"Ah," Said Percy, as realization dawned on him. "This was never about saving the planet was it kid? This was your little cry for attention," He laughed bitterly, "Let me guess, people give you shit for your mom, say that you probably don't even deserve to be at camp because she's so weak, right? Maybe they even say that you were sympathetic to Gaia during the last war, claim you're a traitor to your race. They bully and belittle you and you get tired of it. You decide you're going to show them exactly how strong you are, so you make a little plan. Poison Ivy just so happens to be someone you can use to show the world exactly how strong you are. You know how to brew and craft pretty well, given who you mother is it isn't a surprise, so you leave to complete your mission, and it doesn't matter how many innocent people get caught in the crossfire."

"I wasn't going to let her go to the city. Just let her smash around the Asylum a little. The only people who would have been hurt would have been cops, not like anyone would feel bad," She said, "She says to the police detective," Percy said pointedly, and she averted her eyes. "Aside from the fact that I was hot to your little plan, and that you'd have an easier time sneaking onto Themyscira than Arkham, you're forgetting that there's a little bat in Gotham, who I can promise you doesn't like our kind stomping around his city. Guy's territorial like that."

"Like I said, you wouldn't get it," She said defiantly, and Percy sighed. Hitting his turn signal, Percy pulled over to the side of the road.

"Kid," Percy said, turning to look at her, "Whatever you think you know about me, forget it, you think my life was all sunshine and rainbows because Helena has always been hot shit around your camp? News flash, that wasn't me." He reached out and grabbed his thermos, and turned so he was resting against the door as he was looking at the girl.

"Who are you to talk?" She demanded, "You ran away, you turned your back on all of us and hide. You're just a coward who's too scared to even live around us anymore." Percy sighed, coming to a decision,

"I'm going to tell you a story," He said,

"I thought you weren't going to lecture me." She said bitterly,

"That was before you insulted me," Percy said, "Now shut up and listen, you might actually learn something." He took a sip from his coffee, and started his story,

"After my mother was told what my father was, she did what she had to in order to protect me. She marries this deadbeat alcoholic. A real piece of shit. His scent was so foul no monster would find me there. And this mother fucker had quite the rage to him. Liked to take it out on me. Well, when mom found out, she decided that she would take the beatings instead. One night, Gabe gets a little too drunk, and decides that he's going to go off a little more than usual. Beats mom to death right in front of me. It was the first time I'd used my powers. I burned him alive from the inside out, boiled his blood away until there was nothing left. Lupa found me, standing over the body."

"Lupa, She took me away and to camp. If I thought going to camp would have gone well for me, I was in for a rude awakening. See the thing about Romans, is we're a mighty superstitious people. In spite of all our power, we can be easily spooked. Especially around someone who's more powerful than we are. It's why they don't like son's of the sea. They think we're bad luck, hard to blame 'em honestly, we get too scared? Flash flood. Too stressed? Hurricane. Too angry? Earthquake. My brothers and sister? We're walking natural disasters waiting to happen." He chuckled darkly around another sip of coffee,

"So there were those who decided I wasn't fit to live amongst the rest of them. Some of 'em were subtle about it. They placed me in the Fifth Cohort to tell me that nobody wanted me, they gave me shit details or denied requests for leave of absence or gave me obnoxiously difficult punishments for menial mistakes. Others just used training as a means of venting their frustrations." He leaned back and placed a hand behind his head, as he got lost in memory,

"I took it all though, took it all without saying a word. Lupa had stressed to me in the time I was with her, that it was my duty to bear the burden of Rome. That I would be hated and ostracized, but that I would be strong enough to bear it, strong enough because that's what was needed. I was a patriot, as devout to serving my people as any good Roman would be. So I took it. The beatings, the mental and verbal abuse, all of it. And if I had to cry myself to sleep when I was younger once or twice to cope? So be it. I dealt with it. I dealt with it because it was what was expected of me, but more importantly, I dealt with it because I'm a stubborn bastard and I wouldn't give them what they wanted."

"What did they want?" Meg asked, seemingly unable to help herself as she became engrossed in the story.

"An excuse," He said, "They wanted me to snap, to destroy something or hurt someone. To break and cause destruction on an unparalleled scale. Almost happened a couple of times, would have happened if Jason or Reyna hadn't been there for me." His eyes gained a far off look as he became lost in memory.

"Eventually they stopped. I grew too rapidly, became too strong for them to cross outright. The right people became aware of what I was capable of, and at the order of the gods, I was rewarded for my devotion. Rewarded for not being what they all thought I was. At least, that's what I thought it was. Turns out, the gods and the power brokers just realized that I was better off a tool than I was a punching bag. I was useful, good for dispatching against the vast array of enemies against us. So that's what I became. A tool, a weapon of war given human flesh. For years I filled my role dutifully. I fought during the battle of Othrys, I was there when Jason killed Krios. I was there for Gaia's rise, for the attack on New Rome, and during all of that, I did not break. I did not falter. Not until the final battle."

He closed his eyes, and wished that he had brought a bottle of rum to pour into his coffee, these were memories he hadn't had to deal with in years.

"For days we fought. We battled, we bled, and we died. The momentum swung in our favor when Diana arrived with reinforcements from Themyscira, but we were running out of time. The body count was rising and we had received no word on the state of the battle in Greece, and we were running out of time. In the middle of the battle, for the first time in years, I hear my father. He gives me a message, telling me, ordering me, that I needed to let go. It was the only way to save the legion. The only way to buy enough time for Gaia to be defeated. So I did. For the first time in my life. I let go. Because I was a good soldier, because I was a good Roman, because I always did as ordered. I caused a hurricane, I shook the earth, and I summoned a tidal wave. I caused destruction on a scale that still haunts me to this day. When the dust settled, every monster on our side of the field had been laid to waste. All destroyed or washed away. But I wasn't the only one on the field that day. The entire First Cohort had been there with me. Men and woman who had trusted me, put their faith in me to lead and protect them. And when the dust settled, the water washed away, the storm cleared, and the earth stopped shaking, the monsters weren't the only ones who had suffered. The entire cohort. All forty half-bloods dead. Dead at my hands."

Percy leaned his head back and rested it against the window, the cool glass felt good against his head.

"For ten years I didn't lose control. For ten years, I proved that I could be trusted, that I was different, and that I wasn't what they said I was. Then in one cool stroke, I kill forty of our finest. Forty of my friends, and my family. I was overcome with grief, who wouldn't be right? I'd killed forty people in cold blood, because I did as I was told. I couldn't handle it, and worse still, is that I had proved that I was every bit the monster I had always been painted as. The gods covered it up of course, told the legion some bullshit story about how the cohort had been outnumbered and overrun, and only I had managed to stand against the tide. It was un-fucking-believable. So when the gods summoned us to their chambers after the battle to offer us a boon, I saw my way out and I took it. Up until the last few weeks, I've been pretty good about staying away from the life. But I guess the past always catches up with us sooner or later."

Meg was quiet. As she stared at her folded hands in her lap. Percy stayed quiet himself. It had been a long time since he'd talked about what he had. About his life before. He'd always done such a good job of moving forward, of forgetting his past sins, and having them all brought up again like this was leaving him considerably conflicted.

"So…was I supposed to get some kind of a moral out of that story?" She asked, "Because whatever lesson you think I should have learned, I don't think I did."

"There's a lot of things you can learn from that story." Percy shrugged, "The gods suck," There was a crack of thunder and Percy looked up, "Bite me." He looked back at Meg, "Or that people suck, or trust but verify. But really? I just want you to realize that life fucking sucks. It's cruel, and brutal, and unfair, and there isn't shit you can do about it. Some people are just born to suffer and that's it. But just because life sucks, doesn't mean you get to take your shit out on other people, especially when those other people aren't involved."

"So what, I just sit back like you did, and take the abuse?" She demanded, "Wait until I crack and kill a bunch of people?"

"No," Percy said, "I said not to take your personal shit out on other people. These kids are giving you beef? Well fight back. If they kick your ass, suck it up and learn from it. Come back, and kick their asses twice as hard. You fight back against the people pushing you into the ground. You say you're not getting respect? Well I'll tell you one way nobody is going to respect you, and that's by putting innocent lives in danger, innocent lives like your friends that tried not let you kill yourself, and nearly died in the fucking process."

Meg flinched again, "But-but," she stammered,

"But nothing." Percy said hotly, "You think Jason, or me, or Helena got as good as we are because of our Dad's? Get out of here. I can tell you personally that Jason spent at least three hours every day dedicating himself to his own personal training. Same with Helena." "And you?" She asked, and Percy snorted,

"I spent six." He said, "I needed to work twice as hard, because I needed to be twice as good. Jason had to work hard, but I had to work harder. Same with you. You want their respect? Earn it the old-fashioned way. There isn't a short-cut to it. You can't cheat your way to strength, not without consequences, and there are always consequences."

Percy started the engine and put the car back in drive,

"Now come on, I think you got work to do."

BREAK

Percy watched as Chiron escorted Meg back over the boundary line. She looked back at him, just before stepping over, and Percy gave the girl a small nod. She returned the gesture and disappeared behind the magical wall of the boundary.

"Thanks Percy," Jason said at Percy's side, watching the boundary line as well.

"No problem," Percy said, as he leaned back on the hood of his car. Jason matched his posture, "So you living here now or what?"

"Nah," Jason said dismissively, "Your sister just called us out when Chiron called her about it. We're staying in a place in Montauk, but we'll be packing up and heading back to D.C. Soon."

"Right," Percy said with a snort, "Forgot you were mr. big time lawyer man these days," Jason just rolled his eyes and gave Percy a shove, but Percy just chuckled,

"You sure you won't stick around and see your sister?" He asked, and Percy just shook his head.

"Why I came so early." He said, and Jason sighed,

"You gotta talk to her sometime man," He said,

"If I do, then it's because she came to me, not the other way around. I don't owe her anything, and I'm not about to welcome crazy back into my life man." Percy said,

"Easy frater, I get it," Jason said calmly, patting Percy on the arm, "Believe me, I get where you're coming from. The Greeks can be a little…free-spirited,"

Percy snorted, "You would know, you married one,"

"Easy," Jason said warningly, but he was smiling,

"You hear from Reyna at all?" Percy asked,

"Not since she went overseas," Jason said, "But she'll be fine. Got a pretty cushy posting in Qurac last I heard." He let out a small laugh, "She was righteously pissed about it too. All that training and all that time at West Point, and she's thousands of miles away from any of the fighting."

Percy laughed, "Sounds like her brand of luck," Percy said,

They were silent for a few minutes, just enjoying the cool autumn morning. The sun was just beginning to peek over the tops of the trees, and Percy closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the warmth it offered. He could smell the spray of the sea even from here, and his body hummed in happiness at the close proximity.

"Percy," Jason said after a while, "I know we talked about this already, but I need to say it again. Please don't drop off the earth on me like that again," Percy opened his eyes and looked at his friend. Jason's eyes were swimming somewhat, and he had that look on his face he tended to get when he was feeling particularly strongly about something.

"I won't," Percy reassured, "Not like I can really hide anymore if I wanted to. I keep running into you people everywhere I go." He added with a smirk, and Jason just rolled his eyes, but matched his grin.

Percy knew he would need to go soon, he was exhausted, and he was very much looking forward to some uninterrupted sleep. More to the point, he didn't want to still be here when his sister finally woke up, that was a battle Percy didn't need or want right now. But he was also loathe to leave his spot. He had missed his best friend, and it had been too long since Percy had felt at peace, so he just leaned back, and enjoyed watching the sun rise. Beside him, Jason did the same.

It was moments like these that reminded Percy why he fought, and why he would continue to fight. Not for the fate of humanity, not for personal wealth or glory. But for these small and intimate moments. Moments where he could forget all his worries and all of his stress. Moments where he could just sit in the sun with the man he loved as a brother, and be a normal man.

Percy smiled.

BREAK

It was early evening when Percy got back to his apartment. He tossed his Big Belly Burger into the trash as he kicked off his shoes. He was exhausted. Nearly a week straight of minimal sleep had even him running on empty. Hauling himself to his bed, Percy didn't even bother taking his clothes off, before he collapsed into his bed. Within thirty seconds, he was asleep.

It felt as though he'd only been asleep for a few minutes, when he was suddenly torn from sleep. He was jerked awake at the sound of metal crashing into metal just outside of his apartment. Sitting up in his bed, Percy walked over to his window and looked down. On the street below, two cars had barreled into one another. It was just a nasty looking fender-bender, and Percy didn't think that it was anything worth dealing with until something else caught his attention. That hadn't been the only accident. All up and down the street, cars had crashed into something. Buildings, fire hydrants, other cars, and that wasn't all.

As Percy stared down at the street, he could see children running around, most were crying or screaming. Others were helping get kids who were trapped in cars out. But nowhere could Percy see any adults. Percy listened more closely but he couldn't hear any sirens.

"Nearly a month in Gotham and I don't think I've ever not heard a siren before," He muttered to himself. Walking over to the tv, he turned the channel to the local news network, but there was nothing there but a pair of empty seats. Same with the national networks. "What the fuck is this?" He asked, before shaking his head. He had other priorities. Grabbing his coat, he dashed from the apartment, and hopped down into the street. There was a group of kids trying to get to a child who was trapped in a car that had been flipped upside. The door was blocked by the bumper of a taxi, and the kids were trying to push aside the taxi but to no avail. Percy approached the kids,

"Out of the way kids, I'm a police officer," They all looked up at him, and immediately backed away. Grabbing the bumper, Percy grunted in exertion, but managed to push the taxi away from the trapped child. Not bothering with even trying to hide his abilities, Percy gripped the car door, and with one smooth yank, ripped it from its hinges. Grabbing the infant inside, Percy tried to hush it as it bawled in his arms. Percy turned back to the gathered kids, and knelt down, "Can any of you tell me what's going on here?" He asked,

"We don't know," One of them, a pale-skinned girl said,

"Yeah," Said another dark-skinned boy, "One minute, all the adults were there and suddenly, poof, mom and dad were gone!"

"It looks like everyone over eighteen is gone!" Said an older looking asian boy. "My brother is only eighteen and he's gone too!" Percy nodded,

"Send out a message on social media, start directing everyone to the nearest school or shelter you can." He ordered, and the teen nodded, and pulled out his phone,

"Why are you here sir?" Asked the girl, "And how did you do that to the car? Are you a superhero?"

"No," Percy said,

"I'm just a cop."

Notes:

Well, there we have it. The reason that Percy hates using his powers, the reason Percy removed himself from the divine world. Curious to know how ya'll feel about this, some of you probably saw something like this coming, but it seemed fitting with the way I've wanted Percy's character to go in this story. Next chapter? A lot of fun. A lot. I get to dive into something I've been wanting to do for a while and explore parts of the DC Universe that doesn't get nearly as much love as I think it deserves. Thanks again for all the love and support you all have shown, and I'm glad you're all enjoying the ride as much as I am. As always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I think I've accidentally started a cult, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week!

Chapter 23: Rumble

"Please stop biting my ear, that-Ouch!" Yanking the three-year old away from his ear, Percy glared at the offending toddler, before positioning her in a way that she wouldn't be offending his person any more. Kicking open the door the gymnasium, he walked over to the collection of children around Barbara Gordon and Bette Kane. Barbara saw him coming and stood up, taking the squirming toddler from his arms,

"That's all of them in the entire block," he sighed, as Barbara passed the child off to Bette. They were in the Gotham Academy Gymnasium, which had been converted into a makeshift shelter. For the last several hours, Percy had been running around the city, gathering as many kids as he could. For those old enough, he simply sent them on the way to shelter, but he was forced to manually move the other kids.

"Any idea what's going on yet?" Barbara asked softly,

Percy shook his head, "No clue," He said roughly. Which wasn't exactly true, he was fairly certain that whatever was happening was magical in nature. It explained why he hadn't been effected. Demigods, especially the more powerful of their kind, were immune to almost all forms of magic. The only exception being the magic of other divine beings. Percy's theory had only been made stronger when he had called Jason, who confirmed that he too was still around. Along with almost every demigod they'd come into contact with. But Percy wasn't about to explain that to the Commissioner's kid.

"And I still don't know why I'm still here," He said, feigning frustration. Not too hard considering he really was feeling frustrated.

Barbara just patted him reassuringly on the arm, "Well I'm thankful you're here." She glanced back at the group of kids Bette was playing with, "You've been a calming presence for them." She paused, and worried at her lip for a second, before asking in an undertone, "You haven't heard anything from the League, have you?"

Percy arched an eyebrow but shook his head, "I reached out to the offices there, but nobody answered. I'm guessing they likely got caught up in whatever this is," He said. A pair of beeps registered from both of their pockets. As one, both Percy and Barbara pulled their phones from their pockets. Out of the corner of his eye, Percy could see several other kids doing the same.

The screen of his phone lit up with the insignia of the Justice League for a moment, before it flickered away and three recognizable teenagers appeared. The Atlantean, Kaldur, was standing in front of the camera, with Robin and Kid Flash flanking his sides.

"Attention, children and teenagers of Earth." Kaldur began, "I am Aqualad. These are my friends, Robin and Kid Flash."

Robin took it from there, "We are using Justice League tech to cast and stream to every TV, radio, computer, and smartphone on the planet."

Kid Flash took over, "We know you must be scared and angry. We know, with your parents missing, there's a temptation to run wild. But, please, stay calm."

"We will find a way to bring the adults back, but for now, the oldest among you must step up." Kaldur said

"Take care of your younger siblings, take care of kids who have no one." Robin said,

"Protect them," Added Kid Flash,

"It is up to you," Kaldur finished, before the communication ended.

That had been…enlightening. So whatever was going on, must have targeted the adult superheroes as well. Not a surprise, given that Percy hadn't seen hide or hair of the bat all evening. Or even any of the capes for that matter. Something magical was going on, that much was clear. Percy had been around the stuff long enough to recognize its signature, and the air was practically crackling with how much magic was being used. But did that make it his problem?

Percy grimaced, as a shooting pain raced through his head. He was suddenly overcome with memories, memories of his mother. Of watching what she had done for him, what she had endured for his own safety. Then of the kids coming to New Rome. The look of loss in their eyes, and the fear on their faces. The cries of new boots in the barracks, as they sobbed for their parents.

Percy felt something tug at his sleeve, looking down, he saw a small girl. She couldn't be more than five years old, and her dark blue eyes were watering with unshed tears,

"Mr. Policeman," She said, her voice a croaking squeak, "Are you going to find my mommy? I'm scared. I wanna go home. I miss my mommy!" Silent tears washed down her face. For a moment, her dark-blue eyes shined purple, but when Percy blinked, they were they normal again. Figuring it to be his imagination, Percy knelt on one knee, and gently wiped the tears from his face.

"It's all right sweetheart," Percy said softly, "I'll find your parents, don't worry. This will be over before you know it," He looked over to Bette, who walked over, and gently guided the child away. Percy watched them walk back to the crowd of kids, his decision had been made for him.

"Son of a bitch," Percy muttered to himself, and Barbara looked at him, "Stay here," Percy ordered, "Look after the kids," "Where are you going?" She asked, as Percy began walking from the gymnasium, "To get some answers," Percy said vaguely, and stepped out of the Gym. There was a darkened pathway around the corner, and Percy stepped into its shadows. He growled in frustration, loathe as he was to use it, this wasn't exactly a situation that called for restraint. There was some serious mojo being tossed around to cause this, and wherever the adults had gone, Percy had an obligation to try and figure this out. Cursing his obnoxious moral compass, Percy focused his mind and concentrated on the hidden cave in Happy Harbor, Rhode Island. His body disappeared in a mist, and he was gone.

He landed on the floor of a familiar looking cave. He barely had time to get his bearings before someone shouted, "Percy!" And something barreled into him, nearly knocking him to the floor. He wrapped his arms around the familiar brunette missile.

"Zatanna?" He asked confused, "What the hades are you doing here," He gently pried her from his midsection and knelt on one knee to get a better look at her,

"Every adult in the world has disappeared, including my father, and you don't think I'm looking into it?" The twelve-year old asked, and Percy arched an eyebrow, "You know that's not what I meant," he said, "I meant, what are you doing here, Z, you can't be telling me-"

"Percy, I love you like a brother, but now is really not the time!" She shouted, and Percy winced. She was right, he could run his crusade against her following in her father's footsteps at another time.

Someone coughed behind them, and the pair turned to look at the gathering of teens, watching them awkwardly,

"Oh, right," Zatanna said, "Introductions. Team, this is-"

"We've met," Robin said icily, "What are you doing here detective,"

"Yeah," Zatanna said, "How are you even here?"

"Not what I meant," Robin interjected, but Zatanna ignored him,

"I thought every adult in the world was magic'd awa-oh," She said, before blushing faintly, "Yeah, that. Forgot about that,"

"Ok what the hell is happening?" Demanded Kid Flash in annoyance, throwing his arms into the air, "One minute, Zatanna is about to find out where the magic is coming from, the next, there's a grown man, who apparently hasn't been zapped out of reality, randomly appearing in the cave. Anyone else just a little suspicious,"

"Perseus would never-" Kaldur tried to defend but Percy waved him off and pat Zatanna gently on the back, stopping her from glaring at the speedster.

"Your suspicions are fair, but I promise I'm not here to hurt anyone, except the people responsible. I swear on the Styx," His proclamation was punctuated by a loud crack of thunder, and all eyes looked to the ceiling of the cave in confusion,

"Well that wasn't ominous at all," Artemis muttered under her breath,

"And a sign from the gods that he's telling the truth." Kaldur said, to which Percy nodded. Some of the team relaxed a bit at his words, but still looked uneasy,

"I take it Kaldur'ahm and Batman briefed you on me after my last visit?" Percy asked,

"Last visit?" Zatanna asked, but Percy just gestured at her that he'd explain later,

"He did," Superboy affirmed, "Including that you can use magic,"

"Not this kind of magic," Percy snorted, "Mist-magic, a magic unique to my people, can't be used on a scale like this. Not unless it's being used by a full-blooded divine entity." He said with a shake of his head,

"So then why weren't you taken?" M'gann asked,

"Because my people are mostly immune to magic. Especially me." Percy explained,

"Why you, specifically?" Robin asked,

"Because I'm a badass," Percy snapped, before turning back to Zatanna, "Did you locate the source?"

"Not yet," She admitted, "I was just about to try when you appeared," She gestured to the holo-map of the world. Percy nodded and gestured for her to get on with it. Stepping aside, Zatanna approached the map. Withdrawing a wand, she pointed it at the map.

"Etacol Retnecipe Fo Yrecros!" Zatanna intoned, the map beeped, and a red dot appeared off the coast of North Carolina,

"Roanoke," Percy growled, fighting down the burble of white hot anger that threatened to overwhelm him,

"You think-" Zatanna asked,

"It's him. Klarion," Percy said,

"How do you know?" Robin asked,

"Klarion was among those who disappeared from Roanoke with original settlers. It's home to a one of the largest magical hotspots on the planet. The influx of raw natural magic emanating from the area makes it the perfect place for something this strong." Percy explained,

"You know an awful lot about magic for a cop," Superboy observed,

"I dabble," Percy said snidely, "How long will it take you to prep?" Percy asked Kaldur,

"A while, we still don't really know what we could be dealing with here and-" Robin tried to say before he was cut off,

"SHAZAM!" Cried a voice from nowhere, and suddenly a bolt of lightning erupted from nothing, striking the far side of the room, and kicking up a layer of smoke and dust. Percy shielded his eyes, and pushed Zatanna behind him so he could better cover her. Pulling his weapon free from its holster, he leveled it at the intruder, only to pause when the smoke cleared.

There was a kid, standing there, looking at himself in amazement,

"Hey! It works!" He said in excitement. Kaldur led the team over to the kid as Percy stowed his weapon. Sharing a confused look with Zatanna she just shrugged.

"Superhero bullshit," Percy just muttered before joining the kids. As it turned out, the kid was actually that Captain Marvel guy, a magical behemoth with powers that rivaled Superman himself. Percy had to swear that he wouldn't reveal the kid's secret, like Percy would do that to a ten-year old, but he did so anyway. Apparently, when the kid transformed into his other self, he traveled between the world with the children and the one with the adults. Whatever magic was being used, had created two separate realities. One with the adults, and one with the children. Using the Captain as a go between, the kids worked up a plan for a simultaneous attack on the magical site.

Percy hadn't been certain that the big bad bat would have been too receptive to Percy's involvement, but either Percy was warming to the man, or Zatara had convinced him that Percy would be useful. Either way, Percy was on the team, and as they prepped for battle, Percy went back to Gotham to gather his own supplies.

Deep within the bowels of his trunk, Percy stared at his armor. It had been years since he'd last put it on. Years since he'd allowed himself to use the full power he had been cursed with. But this wasn't a normal situation. The type of magic being thrown around so casually was…disturbing. It required thought, and planning. Something deeper was going on, but Percy couldn't dwell on that for too long. The fact of the matter remained that Klarion was back on the plane and apparently had killed Kent Nelson. A man Percy considered a good friend. Percy had once had the chance to end the demon. Could have ripped the demon from its host and cast it back to hell where it belonged. It was Percy's momentary act of kindness that had resulted in Kent's death. Another body that he was responsible for. Another dead friend.

His decision made, Percy took the armor.

---

Someone let out a low whistle as Percy strode back into the cave. Percy rolled his eyes as Zatanna clapped happily at the sight of him,

"You're actually wearing the armor!" She said excitedly running over to him,

"Didn't seem like I had a choice in the matter." Percy said, then looked over to the others and lowered his voice, "You know what I have to do, right? The other's going to be a problem?"

Zatanna looked down to the ground, before glancing back at the team, biting her lip in worry.

"They might, but I doubt that would stop you," She said, and Percy snorted,

"Not likely," he said, as he walked over to Kaldur.

"Your Highness," He said, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in Percy's armor, "I didn't know you still had it,"

"Never lost it kid," Percy said, idly, as he looked around at the gathered group of teens.

"Wonder Woman fixation much?" Kid Flash, said, only to be smacked on the back of the head by Artemis,

"You're not planning on using that sword are you?" Robin asked warily, eyeing the Sword of Mars on his hip.

"If I have to," Percy said, crossing his arms,

"Absolutely not," Robin said hotly, crossing his arms, "Heroes don't kill,"

"Good thing I'm not a cape then," Percy said, then turned back to Kaldur, "How're we getting there?"

Kaldur nodded, and led Percy and the team to a hanger bay. Inside which was what Percy could describe, as a spaceship.

"You're shitting me," He said,

"Martian, remember," Zatanna said, as she followed the team up the loading ramp.

"I hate my life," Percy grumbled as he climbed into the ship. Once inside all the seats were already occupied.

"Ope," M'gann said, "Hello Megan! Here you go, detective," She said, and a chair materialized out of…nothing it seemed like, next to Zatanna. Warily, Percy climbed into the chair. He let out a surprised yelp when a three point harness suddenly tied him to the chair. "Trunked up superhero bullshit," He said gratingly, as he leaned back as the ship took off into the air.

It took an hour to get to Roanoke, where Percy was overcome with the feeling of some very powerful, and very ancient magic. They arrived on the edge of a forest, the leaves on the trees had already begun shedding, and their bare branches entwined with one another in a criss-crossing pattern that made an almost wall blockading the forest from trespassers. The martian ship used some kind of cloaking mechanism that Percy didn't even bother trying to wrap his head around, to shield them from being discovered as they approached. "There it is," Kaldur announced. Percy pressed the release on his harness and walked over to the canopy. He could see the unmistakable form of Klarion standing in a circle of runes. There was something in the middle of the ring, but at the distance they were at, Percy couldn't get a clear look at it.

"Any way to give me a better look at that ring?" Percy asked, and suddenly the canopy zoomed in, giving Percy a better look at the ring. Percy focused his attention on the stone that had been planted in the soil, directly in the middle of the ring.

"That's the power source," Percy said, gesturing to the stone. "It's the anchor behind the spell."

"Do you recognize it?" Kaldur asked,

"No," Percy said, "But I would wager that there's a similar gem on the other side with the adults."

"So we smash the stone, we merge the realities," Kid Flash said, punching one hand into the other for emphasis.

"And probably smash the realities into smithereens in the process." Percy said, "What do you mean?" Superboy asked,

"You know how Klarion anchors himself to this reality through his cat? Well you destroy the cat, you throw homeboy from this reality. Same exact sort of thing here. Only here, that thing is charged with enough magical mojo to tear the realities apart from the backlash. We need to capture it intact. That's your job."

"You don't give us orders!" Robin snapped, "This is our team, and our mission."

"You will handle the witch-boy then, your highness?" Percy just rolled his eyes at Kaldur's honorific but he was done fighting the kid. He seemed hell bent on it anyway.

"Yeah, me and the demon have some unfinished business." Percy said, then looked over at the martian, "How do I get out of this thing?"

A hole appeared in the floor, leading straight down, and Percy nodded his thanks. "I'll give you an opening. Take it, grab the crystal, and get out of dodge until the smoke clears."

"How will we know what the signal is?" Zatanna asked as Percy prepared to leap down the hole.

Percy looked back over his shoulder, "Just wait for the screaming to start." and he hopped down onto the earth below.

---

"Why are we listening to the mentally unhinged LARPer again?" Wally asked, and Zatanna felt her cheeks go flush in anger,

"Hey!" She said defensively and and he raised his hands into the air in surrender,

"Just saying, you saw him earlier, guy looks ready to kill Klarion," He said,

"That's exactly what he's planning," Conner said, crossing his arms in his seat, "Or did I misinterpret what 'You know what I have to do' means?"

"So he is planning on killing him!" Robin said,

"See Kaldur!" Wally shouted, "Your 'Prince Charming' is a madman!"

"You would do well not to disrespect him, my friend. We owe more to that man than you can possibly understand."

"And there we go again with this," Wally said in exasperation,

"I have explained it to you twice already," Kaldur said evenly, "He is the son of-"

"The god of the seas, yeah sure, whatever. He's still a grade A jerkwad."

"Watch what you say about him!" Zatanna said again,

"Why are you so protective of him anyway?" Artemis asked curiously, "And for that matter, how does your dad know him,"

Zatanna shrank back in her seat somewhat, "I don't know the whole story, only that one day dad came home with him. Said they were working together, or something. I was pretty young at the time, so I don't remember much, only that they were working with a couple of other powerful sorcerers doing…something. I think they were investigating supernatural occurrences or something."

"I thought detective Jackson wasn't a hero?" M'gann asked, confused.

"He's not," Zatanna said quickly, "He-he doesn't much care for heroes. Like's to say that they are unchecked weapons of mass destruction with no oversight."

"That's what the Justice League is for!" Robin said indignantly,

"Yeah!" Wally agreed, and looked around for confirmation from the others, only to pause when Artemis squirmed in her seat,

"Don't tell me you agree with him?" Wally said in disbelief,

"I mean…" Artemis said, uncomfortably looking away, "I doubt you'd understand. You have powers, but do you understand how terrifying some of you are? And that's nothing compared with the rest of the league. I mean, you've all seen what they can do, who could stop them if they decided they didn't want to play fair any more?"

"You really think the League would ever go rogue?" Robin asked, astonished,

"Anything is possible!" Artemis snapped defensively, "And I'm not saying he's right, only that he might have a point!"

"Um guys," M'gann said, "I'm all for debates about the ethical ramifications of heroism, but I think detective Jackson just gave us the signal," She pointed out the canopy and all turned just in time to see an enormous explosion of magical energy erupt around the forest, followed by an enormous roar. Wally summed up what they were all thinking.

"Holy crap, dude…"

---

Unaware of the conversation occurring high above him, Percy camouflaged himself, and crept forward. Taking cover behind the trunk of a large tree, Percy examined the circle, and the witch-boy within. Lounging in the dirt beside the circle, was an orange tabby-cat with black stripes and blood-red eyes.

Pulling his sword free of the scabbard, Percy took careful aim of his target. Grabbing the sword by the hilt, Percy began reaching out with his will. With a firm hold of his domain, Percy grit his teeth and with a mighty heave, he hurled the sword at the cat.

Klarion spun around immediately, and just before the sword was to pass into the neck of the familiar, he waved his hand and the sword was deflected away as a massive boulder materialized in its path.

"Well, well, well," Klarion said, a wide grin threatening to split his face, "Look what the sea-urchin dragged in."

Percy wasn't in the mood for playing games. Percy released his pent up power, and the ground beneath Klarion erupted into a geyser of searing water. Klarion screeched in pain and surprise, and summoned shield around him, protecting him from the scalding waters, the steam from the geyser however became trapped in the shield, blinding Klarion from seeing Percy. Which was exactly what Percy had wanted. Turning his attention back to the cat. It hissed in anger, and Percy jumped, getting better aim at the cat over the boulder. Summoning a trident of water, Percy hurled it at the cat, but it didn't sit idly by and wait to get hit. It leapt out of the way, hissing and spitting in anger. Landing on all fours, the cat suddenly transformed. In the blink of an eye, the innocent tabby was replaced with a mutated monster, the size of a tiger. It let out a monstrous roar and leapt at him. Reaching out, Percy recalled his sword, which had been embedded in the trunk of a tree. The sword streaked through the air, and the hell-cat had to leap out of the way as Percy caught the weapon around the handle. Twirling the blade in his hand, Percy glared at the large creature. It let out another roar, and leaped through the air at him. Percy side-stepped out of the way of the attack, bringing his sword down in a slash which caught the beast along its flank. It let out a howl of pain, as black blood spurt from its side.

A matching howl of pain and fury came from the circle. Out of the corner of his eye, Percy could see Klarion had cleared away the rest of the steam and water.

"I hate demi-gods!" He snarled in fury, before raising his hands in the air. Crimson flames erupted from his hands and streaked across the ground towards Percy. With a flick of his left vambrace, a shield materialized and Percy braced behind it. The flames slammed into the shield, and Percy grunted as he was pushed back a few feet. He caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye and had to jump to the side to dodge out of the way of the large beast as it attempted to pounce on him.

"What's the matter, detective?" Klarion said derisively, continuing to cast blasts of fire in Percy's direction, which he had to dodge out of the way of, "You're usually far chattier. Last time you couldn't stop talking what's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

Percy ducked out of the way of another stream of fire only to immediately get slammed into the ground as Teekl pinned him to the earth. The monster reared its maw back and Percy screamed as its enormous fangs sank deep into Percy's neck. Pulling his fist back, Percy rapidly cooled the air around his knuckles, sheathing them in dry ice. Just as his fist was about to connect, Percy commanded the the oxygen atoms around his hand to expand, containing the carbon dioxide within a confined space and not allowing it expand. The resulting combination of the dry ice, with the force of the punch, caused a chain reaction which exploded violently upon contact.

The familiar screeched in pain, as it was blown off of Percy and sent careering through the clearing and into the forest. It smashed through several large trees before it came to a rest, motionless on the ground. Klarion let out another wail of pain and misery as he collapsed to the forest floor in pain.

"You cheater!" He screeched, "Who are you to attack a harmless kitty cat?" He gasped in pain as both he and Percy rose from the ground at the same time. Klarion glared at him, "Why are you so quiet?" He demanded, as he swayed slightly in place. Then, a disgusting and blood-thirsty girl spread across his face,

"Oh I see, this is about the old man," Klarion cackled in glee, "Oh that was fun! You should have been there, one shot was it all it took and 'pop' went the magic weasel. Shame he was so weak, it would have been fun to play around with him some more."

Percy just glared at the witch-boy, before wincing in pain. It felt as though someone was trying to pry open his temples with a hammer, as a voice rang in his head.

"Detective? It's Miss Martian," Said the familiar voice in his head,

"Oh what fresh new hell is this?" Percy said in an undertone, as he gathered energy into his hand.

"Don't speak, I've linked you telepathically with the rest of the team, just think what you need to say and the rest of the team will hear you," Miss Martian explained,

"Just what I always wanted, the thoughts of hormonal teenagers rampaging through my mind," Percy thought without really thinking about it.

"Yeah, cause we're all thrilled about this too," Kid Flash snarked,

"Shut up, you're the fast one, right?" Percy thought, as he finished channeling his energy into an attack.

"The fast one? I'm-"

"Yes, he is." Zatanna cut in, "And Percy please don't be needlessly antagonistic."

Percy ignored her, "You're about to have your opening. Get ready to grab the gem and get out of dodge," Percy thought,

"Don't give me-"

"It will be done," Aqualad thought sternly,

Without another word, Percy launched his attack. It was a small ball of condensed air, roughly the size of a baseball. The ball of air whizzed at Klarion who tried to put up a shield of energy, only for the attack to go straight through the magical construct and collide with his mid-section. The ball exploded outward, as the compressed air rapidly expanded and Klarion was thrown from the runic circle.

"Now!" Percy ordered, and was nearly thrown from the ground as a red and yellow blur raced past him. Percy didn't wait to see what happened from there, as he launched himself in the direction of where Klarion went flying.

As Percy streaked through the air, he launched a bolt of ice at the still form of Teekl, freezing it to the ground. Using the air currents to guide him, Percy maneuvered himself through the air and redirected his way towards Klarion. "You cheap-shotting, cheater, McCheaterson!" Klarion snarled as he pulled himself from the ground. "I was going to have some fun with you, but now I'll just kill you! Say hi to the old man when you see him in hell!" Black and red lightning burst from the creature's fingertips and shot in Percy's direction.

Snarling in fury, Percy raised his arms in front of him and brought the shield up once more. The shield took most of the direct attack, but Percy was still struck with stray bolts of electricity. Still, it wasn't real electricity, but magically summoned electricity and as such, Percy barely even felt the attack as it seared across his skin. Klarion's eyes went wide in sheer terror, as Percy bore down on him, and tried to teleport but Percy wasn't about to let him get away so easily. Percy threw his sword at the witch-boy, who tried to raise a shield but the sword was divine, and cut straight through the magical wall of energy, and caught the demon in the stomach. Klarion screamed in anguish and wrapped his hands around the handle, his eyes wide in horror.

Percy bore down on him tackling him to the ground. Tumbling together, Percy rotated the pair of them so that he was on top, and wrapped his hands around Klarion's face.

"What are you going to do, fallen hero?" Klarion laughed out, blood pooling around his lips as he sneered up at Percy, "You can kill me if you want, but you and I both know that I'll just reform in Limbo Town. It might take weeks, months, even years, but I'll be back. I'm a Lord of Chaos, and Chaos, cannot be controlled!"

Percy just tightened his grip around the demon's face, and reached out to the divine and began chanting,

"Ab hoc plans est, unde venisti de quo egressus es." He intoned, his eyes glowing bright green as a sudden wind picked up around them.

Klarion's eyes went wide in horror, "What are you doing!" He shrieked, and tried to struggle, but Percy just slammed his head against the hard ground,

"Ergo et memoriam sola manent."

"No! Stop! Ahhh!" He howled as his eyes suddenly glowed black, and his true form emerged.

"Unde antiqui metto fonema ut."

Klarion's body began to contort and shake as the wind grew in velocity. Percy's eyes changed from green, to bright gold as he continued to invoke divine magic. The earth itself shook and Klarion continued to scream that unearthly wail of pain, misery, and abject fear.

"Capti anima tua usuque in sempiternum, et facies retributionem!" Percy finished the incantation, and Klarion let out an ear-shattering screech. His skin split and cracked, as though it were made of glass. His jaw broke as it opened wider than humanly possible and black smog raced out from his throat. The smoke shook and the body shattered and then both were engulfed in bright golden light, and they were gone.

Percy fell to the ground, panting heavily as sweat dribbled down the side of his face. It had been too long since he'd used so much of his power, and he was…rather out of practice. Thankfully, he still had more than enough to deal with the likes of something like Klarion. He saw a dark, webbed hand extend in front of him. Looking up, he saw Kaldur standing over him, a smile on his face.

"Need a hand?" The Atlantean asked, and Percy took the offered hand, and allowed the teenager to heft him to his feet. The others ran over to him, Percy could see the gem in Kid Flash's hand.

"What-what was that?" Miss Martian asked, "Where did he go?"

"I banished his soul," Percy said simply, "Klarion won't be back anytime soon, likely ever,"

"So he's dead?" Artemis asked, and Percy shrugged,

"Might as well be," He said, and snatched the gem out of Kid Flash's hand, who yelped in annoyance.

"Ok," Superboy said, looking around, "But if Klarion is gone, why haven't things changed yet?"

"No idea," Percy muttered, as he examined the gem, he tossed it over to Zatanna, "Recognize it?"

Zatanna looked at the gem, but shook her head, "I have no idea," She said, sounding disappointed, "I'm sorry," "Don't be," Percy and Aqualad said at the same time. They shared a look, and Percy nodded at the teen.

"So let me see if I have this right?" Robin said through clenched teeth, "The adults aren't back, we have the gem but don't know how to use it or how it works, and the only person who knew how it worked is dead!"

"Pretty much," Percy said uncaringly, "You sound like you don't even care!" Robin seethed, getting right up to Percy and poking him in the chest,

"Because I don't," Percy said, arching an eyebrow at the boy wonder. "Look junior, I'm not the magical artifact expert, that's Zatara. Chances are real good that he knows, and if he doesn't I know at least two other guys who are experts on the subject. Whatever this thing is, someone knows what it is, and how to deal with it. So no, I'm not worried." Percy shrugged at the look of indignant fury on Robin's face. It looked like he was about to launch into another dressing down when there was a flash of lightning, which struck the ground a few meters away. Turning to where the lightning struck, Percy saw the kid, Billy he thought he remembered, from the cave. He looked around for a few seconds, before he saw them, and ran over.

"Guys!" He panted, "The gem in the center! You got to get to the gem in the-" It was then he noticed the gem in Zatanna's hand. "Oh, wow, you guys already got it. That's so awesome!"

"Thank Hercules over here," Artemis said, jerking a thumb over at Percy,

"Please don't compare me to that raptor Graeca," Percy said indignantly

"Woah," Billy said, looking up at Percy and his armor. "That's so cool! You actually managed to beat Klarion! I've heard that even Dr. Fate has had-"

"Captain!" Aqualad said sternly, and Billy flinched,

"Right, sorry," He said, awkwardly scratching at the back of his head, "The other's are almost wrapped up, we'll finish off the bad guys and talk to Zatara about how to fix this. I'll let you know when we've got something. SHAZAM!" There was another flash of lightning and Captain Marvel disappeared.

"Superhero Bullshit." Percy sighed,

"Well, I'm just glad I didn't need to use this," Zatanna muttered as she pointed at a rock and dispelled an illusion spell, revealing a very familiar helmet to Percy. With another incantation, Zatanna summoned the Helmet of Fate to her arms, and Percy just stared at her.

"Where did you get that," He asked,

"We rescued it from the Tower of Fate, the night Kent Nelson was killed," Aqualad explained. Percy grabbed the helmet from Zatanna's grasp and examined it.

"Hey, what are you doing with that?" Kid Flash said hotly,

"Do you know what this is?" He asked Zatanna,

"Of course we do!" Kid Flash said, "Whoever puts on the helmet, becomes Dr. Fate and is possessed by the spirit of Nabu."

"Where have you been keeping this?" Percy demanded, and Zatanna rubbed her shoulder uncomfortably as she averted her eyes,

"Leave her alone," Robin said defensively,

"Zatanna, look at me," Percy said sternly, and with what appeared to be great difficulty, she finally met his gaze. "Where have you been keeping this?" Percy asked slowly,

"In the cave…" She said, uncomfortably, "In the…trophy…room,"

Percy let out a slow breath from his nostrils, and tried to reign in his flaring temper before he lost control. He closed his eyes, and calmed himself, when he felt like he wasn't about to unleash a sudden storm, he re-opened his eyes.

"Let me get this straight," Percy said, "One of the most power magical artifacts, on the planet, has been sitting defenseless on a shelf in a cave, guarded by sidekicks. Do I have that right?"

"The cave isn't-" Miss Martian began to say but stopped when Percy glared at her, Superboy growled angrily at Percy but Percy ignored him.

"Protective enchantments?" Percy asked,

"There are…a couple on the cave itself I think. But not on the trophy room." Zatanna said,

"Ignoring the fact that you brought this to a fight with the potential to use it, and I will be speaking to your father about that, I will be speaking to them about this." And with that, Percy took the helmet and stalked off.

---

They only had to wait around another ten minutes before Billy came back and told them that they had subdued the remaining villains and were ready to attempt to merge the realities back into one. Percy watched, perched on the helm, as Zatanna prepared to cast the spell her father had written down for her.

"Perseus Jackson," Intoned an annoyingly familiar voice in his head,

"Oh godsdamnit," Percy grunted,

"You disrespect me," Nabu said in his mind, speaking through the helm

"I disrespect a lot of people. Join the club." Percy snarked

"You are using the anchor of a Lord of Order, as a chair!" The voice thundered in Percy's mind,

"A pretty shitty one too," Percy confirmed with a nod, "Seriously, you're going right up my-"

"Get off of me, you impudent child!"

"Oooh," said Percy sarcastically, "Real intimidating there Nabu." He made a show of squirming around to get more comfortable, "Ahh," He sighed in content, "That's much better," Nabu just growled.

"Percy, please try not to antagonize the Lord of Order for me will you kid?" Said another voice in his head that Percy recognized,

"Kent?" He said, "What the Hades are you doing in there?"

"Decided to keep Nabu company, help him find a suitable heir in exchange for releasing the one with the mouth from his possession," Kent explained,

"Flash Jr.?" Percy asked, "Kid was dumb enough to put on the helmet?"

"There were…mitigating circumstances." Kent said, and Percy snorted,

"And you have disrupted those attempts at finding a host." Nabu growled, "You have disrupted the natural order. Destabilized the way things were supposed to go."

"Excuse me?" Percy said,

"Nabus right kid," Kent said, "He's shown me. He was supposed to take possession of Zatara today. Your interference disrupted that."

"And that is not the first time you have destabilized the Order." Nabu seethed, "You have altered much. Changed much. The future, once clear, is now clouded in uncertainty. Something is happening."

"What do you mean?" Percy asked, now genuinely interested,

"He means that someone is screwing around with the way things are supposed to happen." Kent explained, "You were never supposed to get involved with that little team over there. You were never supposed to meet with the Justice League. None of this is right."

"Someone is changing things. Altering reality. And I do not have any idea who, or what, it could be." Nabu said, sounding…genuinely worried. Which made Percy feel immensely uncomfortable. He had only ever known the spirit of the helmet to be pissed or slightly annoyed. Never…scared. It was unnerving.

There was a sudden explosion of magical energy and a flash of light, as Zatanna finished the spell. Percy blinked, and there were suddenly far more people standing in the field. Percy recognized Batman, Zatara, and who he thought was the hero Red Tornado.

"Well whatever it is, I'll deal with it when and even if I have to," Percy said, standing up and grabbing the helm, "Sounds more like a cape problem to me. And I'm not in the business of helping Capes."

"You helped them today," Kent observed,

"Didn't exactly have a choice in the matter, did I?" Percy said, and there was no response to that as the helmet fell silent. Batman and Zatara were speaking to Aqualad and Zatanna. Noticing his approach, they broke off the discussion and approached him.

"Detective,"

"Percy,"

Greeted the pair, and Percy nodded at them,

"Aqualad said that you dealt with Klarion. What did you do to him?" Batman asked, he didn't sound angry, merely curious. Or, as curious as a monotonous drone of a man could sound.

"Ripped his soul out and cast it into the cage," Percy said, and Zatara's eyes went wide.

"What is the cage?" Batman asked,

"He means that he cast the witch-boy's soul to hell." Zatara said,

"You sent him to Tartarus?" Batman asked

"No," Percy said, "I sent him to hell."

"They aren't the same?" Batman asked,

"No," Percy said with a shake of his head, "Each domain has its own form of the underworld. Don't ask me how it works, I don't have a clue. Not my business. Just know that there is a hell as described by most Abrahamic holy books." He explained. "Tartarus is brutal, but easily escapable. The cage is a part of hell that is…far less pleasant. Which is saying something, believe me."

"So he's dead." Batman said flatly,

"No," Zatara said, "Klarion is a Lord of Chaos. They are…difficult to kill to say the least. They are most comparable to a god. They take control of a host body, and use it reap their chaos. When the host body is destroyed, the soul of the Lord of Chaos is cast out, but it isn't destroyed. What Percy did, was rip the soul from Klarion, who died hundreds of years ago in the disappearance of Roanoke, and Percy trapped that soul in hell. It will take centuries, if not longer or even ever, for him to reform and come back."

Batman just grunted, then extended a hand, "Thank you, for your assistance. This could have gone…poorly, if not for your intervention."

Percy shook the man's hand, "You're welcome. But I'll be honest, I only did this because it was Klarion. This won't be happening again."

"I expected as much," Batman nodded, then gestured at the helm, "I assume you plan on taking that?"

Percy nodded, "It belongs in the tower." He said, "From there, Nabu can find his next host. And that doesn't even touch on the whole hiding it in a cave with a bunch of teenagers thing."

"The cave is protected," Batman said, "That being said, I agree. Without Dr. Fate, the League is not equipped to properly enchant the cave from magical intrusion. No offense to you, Zatara."

"None taken," The magician said genially, "You are correct. I have done what I can, but the defenses of the cave are paltry, compared to the Tower. I have been petitioning for weeks to have the Helmet returned."

They were distracted by the arrival of a headache. The remainder of the Justice League arrived on the scene. With the two worlds reunited, the rioting had a come to an end, allowing the remainder of the league to investigate the site of the disturbance.

"Ah crap," Percy muttered, as three particularly large headaches began walking in his direction, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Aquaman strode over and flanked Batman and Zatara.

"Evening Cousin," Wonder Woman smirked at him, and Percy sighed, "Diana," Percy said, "I didn't realize you were working again, Perseus," Aquaman said, crossing his arms over his chest,

"I'm not," Percy said, "This was a one time deal."

"You sure aren't dressed like it," Wonder Woman observed with a raised brow.

"Next time I throw down with a Lord of Chaos, I'll keep that in mind," Percy said,

"What are you doing here detective?" Superman asked, he looked…annoyed.

"You don't seem surprised to see me in armor," Percy observed

"We've been briefed," Superman noted, and Percy stared at Diana who just shrugged,

"Not like we haven't thrown down with the gods before Percy." She said and Percy just sighed.

"All the adults in the world disappeared, I couldn't exactly sit back and do nothing," Percy said unconcerned, "What's got your long johns in a twist?"

"You called Lois," Superman said hotly, getting in Percy's face, "You told her about my-about the Superboy!"

"I did," Percy affirmed, "And?"

"What gave you the right?" Superman demanded,

"Nobody," Percy said with a shrug, "What are you going to do about it?"

"All right boys, put 'em away," Wonder Woman said, stepping in between them, "What's done is done. No putting the genie back in the bottle." She grabbed Superman and started guiding him away, but not before glancing back at Percy, "We should catch up Percy, soon." Then she

and the Man of Steel headed off towards the rest of the League.

"I should get going," Percy said, gesturing to the helm, "I think it's high time this got back to where it belongs."

"Agreed," Batman said, then gestured to someone behind him, and Black Canary approached the group.

"A babysitter? Seriously?" Percy asked incredulously,

"You hold one of the most powerful magical artifacts in your hands, did you really think you wouldn't have a baby sitter?" Batman asked rhetorically,

"Besides," Canary added, reaching into her pocket and withdrawing a large golden key from her jacket, "I have the key."

Percy was too tired to fight it, so he just nodded and grabbed Canary around the arm,

"Hey!" He heard a male voice call out, but Percy ignored him,

"Try not to throw up, this may be a bit…disconcerting." And with a final smirk down at the woman, Percy and Black Canary vanished in a flurry of water particles.

Notes:

The spell Percy used roughly translates into "Leave this plane from whence you came. So nought but your memory shall remain. To the pit so ancient I send you hence. Your soul forever trapped, you face recompense." But it could be something else, I don't speak Latin and translate can be finicky. Now I know that some of you are or have already typed out that Kent Nelson was freed from the helm during the injustice league attack, but….I decided not to have that happen here, purely for my own enjoyment. So, this is introducing something that I'm going to explore much later down the road. For those worried this is where I jump the shark, and have Percy get involved with the Capes more, fret not, Percy will be back to pounding pavement and solving crimes soon enough. This was just an important character arc for Percy, as well as finally set the full plot in motion. I have an endgame in mind. Something really, really special. Something BIG, that I don't think has ever really been done before. So get excited. Thanks again for all the love and support you all have shown, and I'm glad you're all enjoying the ride as much as I am. As always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week!

Chapter 24: Reconciliation

Dinah fell to her knees and did her best not to vomit.

"Told ya," Percy said cheekily,

"That…what the hell was that?" Dinah asked as Percy gently helped her to her feet.

"Mist-travel," Percy explained, as he led the way out of the alley they had appeared in.

"And what is that?" Dinah asked, then blinked in surprise, "And when the hell did you change?" Percy was no longer wearing the armor, but instead was back in his street clothes.

"Divine Magic," Percy said by way of explanation as he led them into an open field,

"That's such a bullshit answer," Dinah snorted,

"Then don't ask a bullshit question," Percy retorted, before stopping in the middle of the field,

"Where are are we by the way?" Dinah asked, looking around. It looked as though they were standing in the middle of a field. Pulling up her specs via her contacts, she pulled a map of their location and blinked in surprise,

"We're in Salem?" She said,

"Kent had a sense of humor," Percy said, and gestured for her to hand over the key. Dinah did so, somewhat reluctantly,

"Ok…so where is the Tower supposed to be? And I though it was in New Orleans." She asked, Percy took the key from her and turned his back to her,

"Normally you're right, and the tower follows the owner, however the owner of the Tower can key it into a fixed location. should something happen to them." Percy explained, "As for where it is right now? It's right in front of you," He thrust the key into the air. There was a sudden click, as though it had been thrust into a lock. "You just weren't looking close enough," There was a reverberation in the air, and Dinah blinked in surprise as a large stone tower materialized out of nowhere.

"Magic is bullshit," She muttered,

"Preaching to the converted," Percy said, as he pushed open the door, and gestured for her to enter to Tower. "After you," She just glared at him and walked into the Tower. Percy just chuckled and followed her lead. The door closed behind Percy, then disappeared completely.

"Um, should we be worried about that?" She asked, noting that they were now trapped,

"Nah," Percy said dismissively, "I know my way around here pretty well."

"Welcome to the Tower of Fate," Said a voice behind them. Turning, Dinah's eyes widened. Floating a few feet off the ground an image of the late Kent Nelson, looking every bit the man she had known, aside from the slight golden glow surrounding him.

"What is your purpose here?" The image of Kent asked,

Percy reached into the duffel bag he was carrying and withdrew the helm, "We're here to return the Helm to its rightful place."

The image nodded, then faded. Right when Dinah was about to ask what they should do, there was a strange sound, as the far wall literally dissolved into nothingness, revealing an enormous set of stairs. It looked a hell of a lot like that M.C. Escher painting. Dinah just stared as Percy began walking towards the staircase.

"Going to just stand there gawking, or you gonna join me?" Percy called back, and Dinah shook her head and jogged after him. She couldn't help herself but stare in slack-jawed awe around her. She had seen magic in person, and had spent years fighting alongside Zatara, but this was something else entirely.

"First time?" Percy chuckled, as he looked at her in amusement.

"Gio's good…but I don't think even he's capable of this," She said softly,

"Not a surprise, this construct was made by Fate. It's not something a mortal could create, regardless of how strong he is." Percy said,

"Which reminds me," Dinah said, "How do you know Zatara and Kent anyways? And why did he never mention you?" "Kent or Gio?" He asked,

"Both?" Dinah said, "I've known Zatara since her joined the League, but Kent was a family friend. He and my mother used to work together, but he never mentioned you," Percy sighed, "Suppose it doesn't really matter." He observed, "Zatara'll squeal eventually, never could keep a secret." He ran a hand through his hair, "We used to work together,"

"Thanks," Dinah said with a roll of her eyes, "I put that one together myself,"

"Ok sassafras," Percy snorted, and stepped up onto a staircase and began walking upside down. Dinah hesitated for a second, and then followed. She shouldn't have been surprised that she didn't fall as she climbed the upside-down staircase.

"Well," Percy began, "I suppose it goes back to college. Kind of like…an internship I suppose. I was just eating my lunch in the Arb one day, and this old guy walks over and sits down next to me. Says to me, 'So, what's the all-powerful son of Neptune doing going to college like a mere mortal?'" Percy laughed, "Classic Kent right? Guy was as subtle as a battering ram. Well, naturally that got my attention. Nearly knocked his block off, but he stopped me, and made me an offer. A good one."

"Which was?" Dinah asked,

"To work for him, alongside a few others. He got the idea from the Justice Society and the League." Percy explained,

"He made a team?" Dinah asked,

"Yup," Percy said, "The League only fights what it can see. But there's a whole lot that it doesn't. There's a lot that goes bump in the night, Kent brought us all together to take care of the problems that you couldn't see. Spent four pretty good years fighting demons, monsters, and…other things." "Who was on the team?" She asked, curious, as they reached the top of the staircase and were suddenly right-side up again.

"Me, Gio, Jason Blood, and John Constantine." Percy said, and Dinah let out a low whistle,

"Hell of a team. Those are some pretty heavy hitters," She noted,

"Yeah, we were a righteous group of badasses," Percy said with a nod,

"And what about Kent?"

"Kent was our…handler I guess. He had a lot of connections all over the planet, and knew what to look for. So when he heard of something he called us in and we took care of it" Percy laughed as he approached a large bell at the top of the staircase, "Even paid us for it too,"

Wrapping the bell with a knuckle, it let out a low-pitched rumble that reverberated out of the hall, before glowing a light gold. Percy then stepped into the bell, and Dinah just stood there, until a hand shot out and grabbed her arm and dragged her inside.

Stumbling slightly, Percy steadied her, then stepped back. Looking around, Dinah saw that they were in what had to be an elevator. Percy leaned against the back of the elevator as it began to rise,

"So I take it the team disbanded?" Dinah said,

"Yup," Percy nodded, "Gio got offered a spot in the League, and I was graduating. Without the two of us, the other three decided that it wasn't enough to carry on the team, and it disbanded. Kind of bittersweet, but I take a fair bit of pride in what we managed to accomplish."

"I thought you didn't like working with capes though," Dinah said,

"I don't." Percy said, "But there's a difference between busting gangbangers or fighting megalomaniacal gods in the middle of a city, and sending a demon back to hell."

"Fair enough," Dinah couldn't exactly argue the point. There weren't many on the league who were equipped to fight those sorts of battles, hence why their fights against folks like Faust always went…poorly.

The elevator chimed, and they arrived at their destination. It was an ornate looking room. Purple velvet carpet blanketed the floor, and matching drapes covered every window. There was a large library off to one side, and display stands scattered about the room. In the stands were books, magical weapons, and even strange looking creatures captured within glass cages.

Percy strode across the room, towards what looked like an alter near the end of the room. Dinah couldn't help herself as she looked at the odd trinkets and objects displayed. She stooped over an ornate looking card, held in a clawed display stand. The card was entirely black, and scrawled in gold across its front read "Get Out of Hell Free." She reached out a hand to pick it up.

"Don't touch that," Percy warned as he placed the helmet on the stand. "What is this?" She asked, halting her movement. "Looks like a discount Monopoly card,"

"And a hell of a lot more powerful," Percy said, as he turned around and strode towards her, "Don't worry about it, it's not going anywhere." He pat her on the arm, and then paused, looking conflicted.

"What is it?" Dinah asked, "Come on, I feel like we know each other decently well at this point,"

"Point of correction," Percy said crossly, "You know me, because you've crawled through my past and have a bad habit of prying into my personal business. I, on the other hand, know nothing about you. Don't mistake us for friends, we're not."

Dinah couldn't stop herself from flinching. That doubly hurt, since Percy actually knew her far better than he realized. It was only made worse with how right he was. The League, the entire League, had been briefed on Percy. Everything from how his mother died as a child, to his roles in the wars. They, and more importantly she, knew everything. Had stomped through his life and privacy for what she was now realizing was literally for nothing whatsoever.

It was a disgusting invasion of his life, the likes of which she would have condemned had it been anyone else. It was exactly the kind of behavior that she abhorred. Dinah was staunchly against the government's interference in the life of people, and their constant surveillance of the lives of citizens, and yet here was the Justice League, doing the exact same thing. They claimed the moral high-ground by telling themselves that it helped stop the bad guys, but what they were doing was wrong, there was no way around it.

"You're right," She admitted, looking away, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Percy just snorted, "Sure you are." He grumbled, but moved on, "You said you were friends with Kent,"

"Yeah." She said, "My mom was the first Black Canary, she worked with Fate with the JSA."

"So I assume you were there for the funeral," Percy said, and Dinah suddenly realized what he wanted.

She squeezed his arm, as her features grew somber,

"Of course, I'll show you to him."

---

Graveyards seemed to attract rain, Percy mused. Or maybe the weather was simply reacting to his emotions. Percy didn't even bother trying to keep himself dry, he didn't care. He was simply content to just stare at the grave of his friend. Another person he'd failed to save. Another life ended as a direct result of his actions, or rather his inaction. He was secretly relieved that Black Canary had taken a step away, allowing him a moment of peace with the body of his friend.

"Hey Kent," Percy said, talking to the tombstone, "Don't know if you can hear me, trapped in that godsforsaken helmet as you are." He stopped and brushed his sopping hair out of his eyes, "But I just…I just wanted to apologize. You didn't deserve to go out like this, you should have left surrounded by the people you cared about. Not fighting off that demon with a couple of fucking teenagers."

Percy's hands balled into fists for a few seconds, before they relaxed, "I'm just sorry that I let this happen. If it wasn't for me, that bastard wouldn't have come back."

He sighed, and knelt to the ground, "And I'm sorry that I let you talk me into letting him go. Reaching into his pocket, Percy pulled out a small ornate ring. It was solid gold, with black inlays and a small runic symbol etched into the metal. "Hope Nabu doesn't keep you around for too long. You deserve your happy ending. I'll see ya around buddy," Placing the ring on the tombstone, Percy stalked off in the direction of Canary. Her hair was wet, and a couple of loose strands were sticking to her mask.

"You going to that cave of yours?" Percy asked, "I'll drop you off,"

"Yeah, I should really check in with the kids," she said, and Percy nodded. Touching her shoulder, Percy transported them back to the cave. Percy caught her by the arm as she doubled over. She handled her second trip far better than her first, because it only took a moment for her to catch her breath. Leaving his hand on her shoulder, Percy released some of his energy, and dried her off completely. Then he repeated the process with himself.

"Thanks," She said in surprise, glancing down at her previously drenched uniform,

"No problem," Percy said, before walking over to Zatara, who was having a rather spirited debate with his daughter,

"…I just-I just wanted to keep you safe," Zatara said,

"And I love you daddy, but this is my choice! This is what I want!" Zatanna said,

Zatara sighed, and hung his head, "You are as stubborn as your mother,"

Zatanna smiled, "Don't kid yourself. I got that from both of you," Zatara just smiled and embraced her, who hugged him back tightly,

"Hate to break this up," Percy said, and the father and daughter separated,

"Percy," Zatara said, "I did not expect to see you," "I wasn't planning on coming back here…ever," Percy said, "But we need to talk." His eyes darted to Zatanna, then back to his friend, "Alone." Zatara nodded, and turned to his daughter,

"I'll see you at home, Zatanna." He said, and Zatanna nodded before turning to Percy,

"It was good to see you Percy," She said as she wrapped Percy up in a hug.

"You too kiddo." Percy said, "I'd try and talk you out of going cape, but I have a feeling it'd be an exercise in futility."

"You'd be right," Zatanna smirked, Percy rolled his eyes. Turning, he nodded at Zatara who placed a hand on his shoulder. With a minor invocation, they disappeared from the cave, reemerging in Percy's apartment.

With a sigh, Percy shucked off his jacket and walked over to his fridge, grabbing two beers, he tossed one to Zatara who caught it deftly. Popping the seal on his own, Percy collapsed into his chair.

"Gods above, what a night," He groaned and took a hefty pull of the drink.

"What is it you wished to discuss," Zatara said, placing his beer on the table by the couch. Zatara took a seat and removed his hat.

"I spoke with Nabu," Percy said simply and Zatara's eyes went wide,

"What?" He asked, leaning forward, astonished. "Yup," Percy said nonchalantly, "He's still a righteous old bastard, in case you were wondering,"

"What did he want?" Zatara asked,

"To tell me off." Percy said, "Told me that I was interfering in Fate's grand designs or some shit." Percy sighed, and then drained the remainder of his beer in one gulp. "Apparently, something is meddling in shit that it shouldn't be meddling in."

"What do you mean?" Zatara asked, suddenly looking worried,

"I mean," Percy said, leaning forward, "That someone or something, is manipulating things. Pushing things around to meet some kind of-of end." Percy ran a nervous hand through his hair as he considered telling Zatara,

"What?" Zatara demanded, "There's more, yes?"

"Yes," Percy said, making a decision, "I wasn't supposed to be there today. I wasn't supposed to kill Klarion, and you were supposed to take up the mantle of Dr. Fate." Zatara's eyes went wide, and he leaned back in his chair. No doubt he was reeling by the revelation of the destiny he very narrowly avoided. Percy wasn't done however,

"But something happened," Percy continued, "And I showed up. I don't know what, and I don't know who. All I know, is that whatever is causing this, has Nabu seriously spooked," Percy paused, as he replayed the events of the evening in his head. His eyes went wide as he remembered what happened in the gym.

"The girl," He breathed,

"What?" Zatara asked, brought out of his stupor,

"There was a girl, in the gym we'd converted into a shelter. She came up to me, begged me to find her parents. Her eyes…for a moment they flashed purple. I thought it had been a trick of the light, but…" He screwed up his face in concentration, "And the memories," He whispered,

"Memories?" Zatara asked, "What memories?"

"Right before the girl approached," Percy explained, "I just got these-these flashes of my past." "You were influenced," Zatara breathed, "Gods above, what are we dealing with if it can do that to you?"

Percy leaned back, a familiar sense of foreboding washing over him.

"I don't know, but it can't be good."

---

The screens along the room flickered to life one after another. Six in all, with the seventh remaining blank.

"Tonight's diversion went off without a hitch," The immortal being, Vandal Savage began without preamble, "The world, and more importantly the Justice League, were so caught up in trying to reverse our work, that they never realized what our true purpose was. They will not notice it is missing, until it is far too late."

"As good as that news is," Came the accented voice of the Brain, "I cannot help but notice, that one of our number is missing."

"Yes," Nodded Let Luthor, "Where is the witch-boy, I would have thought he'd have been bragging by now,"

"Klarion is gone," Savage said tonelessly,

"He's been arrested?" Ocean Master asked incredulously,

"No," Savage said, "He's dead," Stunned silence fell across the other members of the Light at the pronouncement,

"Well…" Ra's al Ghul observed, "That is an unexpected development."

"I didn't think the children had it in them, which of them was it?" Queen Bee asked,

"None of them," Savage answered. A new screen popped up on each monitor. It was a video feed of the battle at Roanoke.

"Detective Jackson?"

"Him?"

Luthor and Queen Bee both said incredulously,

"You're familiar with him?" The Brain asked,

"We've met," Luthor replied, "Our paths crossed once or twice during his stint in Metropolis. But he never showed any signs of…this," He gestured to the video, as Percy fought off Teekl.

"And you, Queen Bee?" Ra's al Ghul asked,

"Oh, it was years ago," She said dismissively, "He and a group of American Special Forces infiltrated Bialya. I believe they were attempting to rescue their ambassador. I captured them easily enough, made an example of them. All except for Jackson, never could figure out how he managed to escape." She watched as Percy threw a ball of compressed air at Klarion, sending him flying, "Now it makes sense. Metahuman?"

"It doesn't matter," Ocean Master said quickly and hotly, "He killed Klarion, one of us. He must be destroyed!"

"That would not be wise," Luthor said, "Getting soft on us Lexy?" Queen Bee teased, "I don't think I've ever seen this side of you…I don't like it." She scowled,

"Hardly," Luthor said stiffly, "But killing him so brazenly would create…complications,"

"Lex is correct," Ra's al Ghul agreed. "The detective, ahem, Batman, is territorial. Killing one of Gotham's up and coming detectives, so brazenly after he revealed himself to the Justice League and aided in taking down a member of our organization would bring unwanted scrutiny on us."

"On us, or on you, mon ami?" The Brain questioned,

"Enough," Savage said, "You're all correct." "Lex and R'as have the right of. An overt act of aggression will overplay our hand and draw more unnecessary attention to the League of Shadows. It's now clear that this Percy Jackson is working with the Justice League, and he needs to be dealt with."

"For what it's worth, the Percy Jackson I know is hardly a fan of the so-called heroes," Luthor observed,

"It doesn't matter," Savage said, "Ocean Master is correct as well, we cannot allow such an overt act of hostility to go unpunished. However we needn't be so…direct. Lex, how goes our operations in Gotham, how close is our contact inside of Arkham to completing her formula?"

Luthor looked intrigued for a moment, as he brought a hand to his chin in thought, "I believe she could be ready to go to trial in a matter of weeks. Is that sufficient?"

"It is," Savage said, "R'as?"

"My operatives are in place," He confirmed, "I can have the madman released in a matter of hours if that is the course we wish to pursue."

"See to it," Savage nodded, "Ocean Master, you appear…pensive," He noted, and Ocean Master started somewhat,

"It is nothing," He said quickly, "I simply feel as though I have heard of this Percy Jackson before, I simply cannot place where," "Curious," Savage said, "But I suppose it's irrelevant."

"Excusez-moi" The Brain interrupted, "But I do not believe that all of us have been…enlightened. What exactly is the plan?"

"My apologies my friend," Savage said, "There is going to be a terrible incident in Gotham," He grinned viciously, his rows of pointed teeth glimmering.

"And detective Jackson will be right in the middle of it."

---

The weekend passed far too quickly, and Monday morning arrived before Percy knew it. Dragging himself out of bed was a chore, but all too soon, he was was strolling into the precinct, yawning behind his thermos. He paused just inside the door. There was something…off about it. The atmosphere was tense, officers kept glancing around nervously, as though they were expecting some kind of an attack to manifest in the shadows behind them at any moment.

One of the patrols accidentally dropped something, and the sudden noise caused another officer to jump so badly, that she spilled her boiling hot coffee all the way down her front.

Arching an eyebrow at the odd behavior, Percy just strode up the stairs and into the bullpen. The atmosphere in there was even thicker, even Wise and Cavello looked like they were spooked by something. Percy couldn't help but feel as though he was missing something. Striding over to his station beside Montoya, Percy placed his thermos down and collapsed into his seat.

"Ok Monty," He said casually, leaning back in his chair so he could see her around the divide in the cubicle, "Talk to me, what's got everyone looking like it's the end of the world?"

"You don't watch the news much, do you?" Montoya asked tersely, and Percy just frowned.

"Gods Renee, what's going on?" Percy asked,

In response, Montoya grabbed the copy of the Gotham Herald that was sitting on her desk and tossed it over to him. Percy caught it deftly. Arching an eyebrow, he looked at the front page. The majority of the page was taken over by a large picture of what Percy recognized as Arkham Asylum, taken from the street at the main gate to the building. Or at least what had been the main gate. Where wrought-iron steel had once been the welcome mat for Gotham's mentally infirm, it was now little more than a smoldering ruin. In the picture, Percy could see that some of the main building was still on fire, as bodies were being loaded up into emergency vehicles. The familiar forms of Batman and Commissioner Gordon were standing in the wreckage, looking at the destruction.

The headline to the article read: BREAKOUT AT ARKHAM!

"Thirteen dead, twenty-eight more wounded." Montoya said,

"Fucking hell," Percy breathed,

"Luckily, it looks like the damaged was localized to maximum security only, lucky considering how many of those Blackgate bastards have had to be transferred over since the attack. It looks like it was a targeted attack, meant to only break out a single prisoner." She said tightly, her hands balling into tight fists. She looked up and met Percy's eyes fiercely,

"Who?" Percy asked, though he had a rather bad suspicion he knew exactly had been the target of the breakout.

"The Joker,"

Notes:

AND WE! ARE! DONE! Boom baby, 12 chapters, 12 fucking weeks of consistent updates and now this goes on the back burner for a while. Not to worry though, because it will be back eventually! And ooh baby do I have some very, very fun plans for what's coming next. It's literally nothing I've seen attempted by any of the other PJOxYJ crossovers on the site, so I'm really excited to give it a try. Let me know what your predictions are, and what you think I have planned up my sleeve. Thanks again for all the love and support you all have shown, and I'm glad you're all enjoying the ride as much as I am. As always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week

Love, LilDB

Chapter 25: A House of Cards

"You can't do this! Not when I'm so close! I have to find her; I have to find my Alice!"

"Oh my god will you shut up already?"

"No! I was so close to perfecting the formula, if you only would let me return to my work, to perfect the compound-"

"Jesus Christ, Metro do you have a gag?"

"I can shove my sock in his mouth, but I'm pretty sure that constitutes excessive force."

"Ugh," Montoya groaned, as she shoved Jarvis Tetch into the waiting arms of a pair of patrol officers, "Officers, he's all yours. Have fun with him,"

Percy just snorted as the officers shoved the drug-dealing psychopath into the back of the waiting cruiser. Jarvis Tetch, also known as the Mad Hatter, had been tossed their way after video surveillance of him surfaced kidnapping a ten-year old girl. The lunatic had been kidnapping girls and experimenting on them, trying to find his own, "Alice." After nearly two weeks of hard investigation, Percy and Montoya had finally tracked the bastard down.

Percy watched as the three girls were loaded into waiting ambulances and hustled off for treatment.

"We should probably get going," Montoya sighed, "We need to get a head start on the paperwork on all of this,"

"Or," Percy said, "We go to the bar, get blindingly drunk, and try and wash the last two weeks of utter hell from our collective memories."

"I vote option two," Montoya agreed.

"I thought you might," Laughed Percy,

"Hell, why don't you give Dinah a call. Maybe if I get you drunk enough, you'll stop pussy-footing around her and actually ask her out." Montoya smirked victoriously at him. Percy just glared at his partner.

A few weeks ago, Percy had asked Dinah if she wanted to meet him for drinks with Montoya, she had said yes, and much to his chagrin, had hit it off with Montoya. The pair had taken to teaming up on Percy whenever they got the occasion. Glaring at his partner, Percy just flipped her the bird, and called Dinah. She said she had a few errands to run, but that she'd love to meet up with them after.

Percy normally wasn't a fan of going to the bar at the end of a workweek. Large crowds in tight spaces made him uncomfortable. Maybe it was the demigod in him, but you never knew when someone was going to turn into a vicious monster and start slaughtering your friends. But at the moment, Percy couldn't bring himself to care.

When Percy had first moved to Gotham, he had been excited by the prospect of finally working a proper case load. Making a difference and actually feeling like he was doing something for the good of the people. Percy had been in the city for a few months at this point, and he was starting to feel as though he were running on fumes. At any given time, Percy was running at least four different active cases.

He was beginning to feel the strain of it all. He wasn't a stranger to death by any means, but gods above Gotham seemed to be riddled with it. Percy was almost convinced that he had seen more death in Gotham in the last few months than he had in his entire time in the Legion.

Picking up his drink, Percy took a deep pull and turned his attention back to the television. The news anchor was describing how that loud mouth Percy had met with the Junior Justice League had helped save the life of the very young Queen Perdita of Vlatava.

"That reminds me," Percy said, pointing at the screen, and lowering his voice, "Any sign of the clown?"

It had been two weeks since the violent breakout of the Joker from Arkham, and the entire city still seemed to be teetering on edge. It was unlike anything Percy had ever seen before. Gothamites were cagey and paranoid by nature, but the recent few weeks was something else entirely.

Montoya checked around her then shook her head, "Nothing. According to Gordon, not even the Bat has seen the bastard. I don't like it."

"Think he's planning something?" Percy asked,

"That bastard is always planning something," Montoya snarled, "And if he's taking his time with it, that just means the body count is going to be higher."

Percy didn't have anything to say to that, so he just turned to back to his drink. Only to be interrupted as both he and Montoya's phones chose that moment to ring. Pulling it out, Percy groaned as he recognized the number of central dispatch.

"Always at end of watch before the weekend," Montoya grumbled before she answered and Percy did the same.

"Jackson," He answered, and a female voice answered,

"Detective Jackson, you are being dispatched to 121 North LaSalle Street."

"City Hall?" Percy asked in confusion, "What's happening?"

"The Joker has kidnapped the Mayor."

Percy's eyes went wide, and judging by the look on Montoya's face, she had just been told the same thing.

"We're on our way," Percy said, and hung up, only for him to immediately receive another call, this time from his station lieutenant. Sharing a look with Montoya who was about to dash out of the bar, Percy answered,

"Already got the call L.T., Montoya and I are-"

"You're not going to City Hall." Lieutenant Winston snapped,

"What?" Percy asked, incredulous, "Sir what could be more important than-"

"An inmate due for extradition to Alabama for Death Row, Gar al S'hul, is willing to confess to a string of unsolved homicides back in the '90's, but he said he'll only talk to you. He leaves first thing tomorrow, so you need to get down to the Asylum and interview him. Now!" There was a click and the line went dead. Percy just stared at the phone, unable to comprehend what just happened.

"Metro," Montoya said, snapping her fingers in front of his face, "Hey, Earth to Metro, we need to get moving,"

"I'm not going." Percy said slowly, "That was the lieutenant, apparently I'm on a high priority call to Arkham. Something about an inmate who's going to confess a series of cold cases back in the '90's."

"What?" She asked, "Metro this is hardly the time!"

"And you think Winston is going to be ok with me skating on this? The man already doesn't like me, he's looking for any excuse at this point to shitcan me!" That much was true, ever since Percy had set foot in the precinct, the lieutenant had been at his throat. Things had gotten even worse since Percy had been confronted by Wise, only solidifying in Percy's mind that the man was corrupt trash. Still, the man was Percy's direct superior, and wouldn't hesitate to see Percy either fired outright, or deported to another precinct writing up traffic citations for the rest of his life.

Percy sighed, "I got to go Monty," He said wearily, "Do me a favor, and be careful alright?"

"If Joker's involved, the Bat will be there, so I doubt I'll need it, but thanks Metro," She said, then hesitated, her expression shifting to one of concern,

"Percy, Arkham…it-it's a nightmare. The worst of the worst end up there, you're going to see some shit, and more than one person has been corrupted by that nightmare. You be careful too, alright?"

Percy was touched by the concern, and he smiled softly. Nodding at his partner, the pair diverted off towards their separate missions.

Getting into his car, Percy pulled up Dinah's number on his phone, and gave her a call but it went straight to voicemail.

"Hey Di, it's Percy," He said, as he put the car in drive and pulled away from the bar, "Monty and I got called into work, nothing to worry about but we have to cancel, sorry for the last-minute bail but you know how work gets." He paused, "And do me a favor, stay away from City Hall tonight, something's going down. Don't think I can tell you what, but…just stay safe ok? I'll talk to you later." He ended the call, and pulled onto the freeway, and made his way to the mad-house.

BREAK

Arkham Asylum was…enormous. Staring up at the ancient Asylum, Percy was beginning to understand why it had the reputation that it had. Gothic architecture met with modern security to give it the appearance of some kind of new-age castle. Percy could spy snipers posted in tall security towers surrounding the entrance to the Asylum.

The gates had been repaired and restored since the Joker's escape a few weeks ago, and security appeared to be tighter than ever. Percy had been stopped at the gate, and he and his entire car had been searched. He was then waved through the checkpoint, and directed to park in the overflow parking.

Getting out of the vehicle, Percy was immediately met with three additional members of the Asylum's security detail. Not bothering to comment on the seeming amount of excessive show of force, Percy was led into the heart of the Asylum.

Contrary to the rumor mill, Arkham was not a singular building, but rather five separate facilities. There was the Penitentiary, where Percy was headed. It housed some of the more…normal inmates. At least as far as Gotham could create a normal Arkham inmate. There was a state-of-the-art Medical Facility near the south. In the north, were the Botanical Gardens, supposedly created back in the sixties in the hopes that being surrounded by natural vegetation and plant-life would aid in their rehabilitation. South of the Gardens was the Mansion, home of the founder of the Asylum, Amadeus Arkham, and where the warden and administrative offices were. Finally, there was intensive treatment, where the worst of the worst were kept. The Joker, Scarecrow, the Riddler, all were kept in that madhouse they called a prison.

Percy was led through a pair of dimly-lit tunnels before coming out into the west end of the island. More large security towers connecting the various buildings and security houses littered the evening sky. Snipers, manned machine guns, and more added to the layers of security. Percy was beginning to feel as though he were back on an F.O.B. in the Middle East, and not in the middle of an American Penitentiary. Though he supposed, given the number of super-powered freaks there were in Gotham, it might have been necessary.

Percy was led by the security detail into the main entrance of the Penitentiary. The entrance hall was far from homey. They were stopped by another entourage of armed guards,

"Sorry sir, gonna need you to hand over any electronic devices, as well as your side-arm." The lead guard said,

"I have to go in there unarmed?" Percy asked in disbelief,

"Sorry detective," The guard shrugged, "I don't make the rules around here." Percy stopped himself from rolling his eyes, but complied. He handed over his department-issue side-arm and cellphone. Percy took a small comfort in knowing that he at least had his back up personal weapon still strapped to his hip, as well as the knife in his ankle holster. Not like Percy was expecting trouble, but he was a firm believer in always being prepared.

Dropping the weapon and phone into a bin in one of the guard's hands, Percy was directed through another set of doors, and into a waiting area. There was a receptionist at the front desk, and Percy was led over.

"Detective Percy Jackson," Percy said, flashing his credentials. "I was informed there was an inmate here, specifically requesting to see me. I believe his name was Gar al S'hul."

The receptionist inspected the badge, before typing something into her computer terminal. She frowned,

"I'm sorry detective," She said apologetically, "But I have nobody in our records by the name of Gar al S'hul. Are you sure you have the right name?"

"Positive," Percy said, "Got the order from Lieutenant Winston from Precinct One-Seven."

The receptionist furrowed her brow in thought, "Well we have no record of anyone by that name ever being incarcerated here."

"Are you sure you spelled it right?" Percy asked, and she just glared at him, "Sorry! Didn't mean to offend,"

Sighing, the woman tapped her chin, "Let me go check something, I'll be right back, The woman got up from her desk, and walked through a door behind the desk. Percy frowned, there was something going on, his instincts were screaming at him.

"Hey, did you get the call?" Percy heard one of the guards whisper,

"Yeah, just came through, Batman just dropped the Joker off in Intensive Care! I hear he just gave up, almost without a fight." Another said,

"Wish the Bat would just kill him already, twisted bastard has killed enough people," A third said. Percy frowned, as the feeling that something was wrong just grew in intensity, his stomach was curdling slightly, and his hair was standing on end. He needed to check something,

"Do you mind if I use the phone?" Percy asked and the guards all looked at one another, before the leader nodded,

"Just so you know, all calls are recorded," He said warningly and Percy just nodded, he wasn't planning on saying anything compromising. Reaching over, Percy grabbed the phone and punched in a number.

He just hoped that Montoya might have some answers.

"Montoya," She said,

"Hey Monty," Percy said,

"Oh, hey Metro, what's up, and what's up with the weird number?"

"They took my phone when I came into the Asylum," He explained, "Look, something…hinky is going on."

"Did you really just say the word hinky?"

"Fuck off, I'm serious,"

"Relax Metro. Now what's got you so worked up?"

"What's up, is that the guy I'm supposed to be interviewing, apparently doesn't exist!" Percy said hotly,

"What?" She asked,

"Yeah, there's no record of this guy anywhere in the system, the receptionist is checking on something right now but-" There was a sudden click as the line went dead. No dial tone, no noise. Utter silence. Less than a second later, all of the lights in the already dimly lit shut off simultaneously.

"Oh, that can't be good."

A moment later a siren blared loudly overhead, as emergency lights sprang to life and illuminated the halls in an eerie red glow.

Glancing over his shoulder, Percy looked at the two guards who were staring up at the lights. Mounting horror on each of their masked faces.

"Hey!" Percy called out, "The fuck is happening?"

However, they needn't have answered, because as soon as Percy had asked the question, a disembodied and automated voice called out through the speaker system.

"Containment break. Containment break. Inmates are loose in the asylum. Inmates are loose in the asylum."

Dread welled up in the pit of Percy's stomach.

It was a breakout.

BREAK

"I don't like this,"

Dinah turned and looked at the young superhero. Robin was watching as the officers put the remaining members of Joker's crew into a large transport vehicle. Batman had taken the Joker away from Arkham some time ago, leaving Dinah and the Baby Bats to clean up the mess. Batgirl had disappeared sometime after the fight, something about having to get home to watch over her sibling, leaving Dinah alone with Robin.

"What makes you say that?" Dinah asked, and Robin's face scrunched in thought,

"Joker never gives in this easily. We basically just broke down the door and he caved. Something isn't right here," Dinah frowned, that much was likely true. They had essentially just walked into City Hall and the Joker surrendered himself over to the Bat. Dinah hadn't had many dealings with the bastard herself, but she had read the files well enough to know that he always had some kind of plan or scheme. It was just a matter of deducing what it was.

"Well, whatever is going on, I'm sure Batman can handle it," She reassured, "Why don't you head back to the cave? I'm sure the others will want to hear all about what happened tonight,"

Robin looked at her then shrugged, "Yeah, why not. B's got this, and I have a chemistry test in the morning. I had some questions for KF anyways. See ya Canary." The kid said with a wave, and then he pulled out his grappling hook, and dashed off to who knew where. Sighing, Dinah caught sight of a familiar face. Detective Montoya was speaking to a pair of patrol officers, but oddly enough Dinah couldn't see hide or hair of Percy. Using her lenses facial recognition software, she scanned the crowd but still didn't see him.

Confused, Dinah approached Montoya, the detective saw her coming and dismissed the officers she was speaking to, and met Dinah halfway.

"Black Canary, good work tonight," Montoya congratulated,

"Thanks, but as usual, it was Batman who did most of the work on this one," Dinah said,

Montoya snorted, "Par of the course on that one,"

"Where's your partner?" Dinah asked, "Figured with the Joker, it would be all hands on deck."

"You'd be surprised," Montoya said bitterly, "Winston called, just after we got the alert about Joker. Percy was under direct orders to go to the Asylum and interview someone. Something about a bunch cold cases from years ago. He's up there right now." She paused as her phone began ringing, pulling the phone out, she looked at the number, a puzzled expression on her face,

"Who the hell…" She muttered and gave Canary a meaningful look, before pulling the phone up to her ear

"Montoya," She said into the receiver, "Oh hey Metro, what's up, and what's up with the weird number?"

Dinah was sorely tempted to listen in on the conversation, but after the last several weeks of spending so much time around both Percy and Renee, she couldn't bring herself to intrude anymore than she already had into his life.

Montoya laughed at something Percy said on the other end of the line.

"Did you really just say the word hinky? Relax Metro. Now what's got you so worked up?"

Suddenly, Montoya's posture and demeanor shifted. Her back straightened, and the lines along her face grew firm.

"What?" She asked, her voice tense, and Dinah more fully turned to watch the detective. She was silent for some time, before something must have happened on the other end of the line, because a worried and confused expression flashed across her face.

"Metro…Metro you there? C'mon Percy this isn't funny," She pulled the phone away and glanced at the screen, and even from where Dinah was standing, she could see that the screen was black. Off in the distance, Dinah caught a glimpse of a uniformed officer leaning in to listen to something come across on the radio.

"Oh I don't like that," Montoya muttered,

"What happened?" Dinah asked, unable to help herself, "Montoya looked conflicted for a brief moment, before sighing,

"Whoever Metro was supposed to meet at the Asylum doesn't exist. He wasn't in any of the records, and they didn't even know that Metro was going to be coming to visit…" She bit her lip worryingly and glanced down at the phone, "And then the line just went dead…I got a very, very bad feeling about all of this."

So too did Dinah, but before either of them could say another word, a uniformed officer, ran over to Montoya and hurriedly whispered something into her ear.

"What?" Montoya exclaimed, her voice riddled with shock, as all of the color seemed to drain from her face simultaneously.

Before Dinah could ask what was going on, her communication device with the league squawked in her ear,

"Black Canary," Came the deep, monotone baritone of J'onn, "Emergency meeting on the Watchtower, all hands,"

That couldn't be good, she mused to herself, an all hands meeting usually meant something big. Calamitous in most cases.

"I'm on my way," She announced, and without another word to Montoya, who was too engrossed in her conversation with the officer, she took off. She was only a block away from the nearest Zeta tube, and she could feel the urgency in J'onn's call that stressed that she needed to get to the Watchtower as soon as humanly possible.

As she stepped into the small telephone booth, she couldn't help but feel as though whatever was going on, was going to be connected to Percy's strange call to Montoya.

Stepping out of the Zeta tube in the Leagues orbiting command center, she wasn't surprised to see that she was the last one to arrive. The majority of the League had ways of getting to the tower a hell of a lot quicker than running to the nearest tube. The mood in the command room was tense. Groups of heroes were gathered around one another in small groups, whispering in hushed voices. Nobody seemed to really know what was going on, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

Superman, who had been wrapped up in a rather hearty debate with Diana about something, glanced up at her arrival and nodded at her.

"Everyone, take your seats," He ordered, and the League followed suit. Superman wasn't as much of a disciplinarian as the Bat, but when he gave an order, it was followed.

"What's this about Clark?" The Flash asked, taking his seat at the table,

In response, Superman reached down to the table, and pressed a command into the console at his place. The large monitor at the head of the table came to life, showing Cat Grant, she had a hand pressed to her ear as a shocked look passed across her face.

"Hang on, I'm receiving breaking news from the Gotham Bay area, Jack Ryder, what do you have for us?"

There was a brief pause, before the camera cut to the familiar form of Jack Ryder, Cat Grant's fellow News Anchor in a helicopter high above the Gotham skyline.

"This is Jack Ryder with breaking news in the Gotham Bay. We're getting reports of an armed siege on Arkham Island. Two minutes ago, Joker broadcast to all news channels this chilling message."

Dinah's stomach clenched painfully, as fear threatened to grip at her insides. The feeling of apprehension and terror only served to be compounded when a painfully familiar voice spoke up through the television."

"Greetings Gotham, this is the voice of your new master…Oh hang on, I skipped a bit. Ahem, Joker here! I'm in control of Arkham Island and you can all consider it out of bounds. If I see any lawmen, vigilantes, or do-gooders in tights coming this way, I'll start detonating random bombs around the city. What'll it be? A kindergarten? A hospital? A billionaire's mansion? Oh! Choices, choices, choices."

A thoroughly a shaken Jack Ryder did his best to compose his features, but he couldn't quite mask the way his face drained of all color.

"All access to island has been restricted, airspace is closed off, and reports suggest that Batman himself is trapped on the island. We will be right here, reporting live, on any developments. Back to the studio."

Superman pressed another button on the console and the monitor flickered off.

"Batman is already on the island." he explained promptly, "And has given strict orders that we are not to interfere."

"So we're just going to sit here?" Hal Jordan, one of the two Green Lanterns on the team, called out, a disgruntled look on his face.

"Unfortunately," Superman nodded, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"We all know how Batman gets about Gotham, and especially about the Joker. We'll be staying here on standby. Should it come to it, we have been authorized to act in a supporting capacity."

"What about evacuation?" Hawkwoman asked, "There are several hundred employees, officers, and civilians that are employed on the island. We're just supposed to let them suffer while the inmates rampage the compound."

Superman grimaced, Dinah was guessing that he'd already raised a similar point to Batman.

"I had similar concerns," he admitted, "But we received word that the Joker has planted several bombs around Gotham city. Should he see one of us enter the Asylum he promised that he'd begin detonating the bombs at random."

"Damn." Aquaman hissed, and Dinah was sharing his sentiments. "I presume that he has made contingencies for any attempts by us to try and dismantle the weapons as well?"

"Batman certainly assumes so." Superman nodded, "He told me to keep the League on standby just in case, but that we are not to interfere in any capacity."

"Dinah," Diana suddenly called out, startling Dinah somewhat as she jumped in her seat. "Are you quite alright? You appear quite pale?"

All eyes in the room turned to look at her, and Dinah felt her face flush somewhat in embarrassment. She bit her lip and considered her options, but she didn't see any way around telling Diana as well as the rest of the League. With what they knew about Percy, he was an absolute wildcard, and there was no telling what the Joker might do if he found out that someone with Percy's abilities were floating around the Asylum. Furthermore, Diana was Percy's cousin, and Dinah felt that the woman deserved to know the situation her cousin was finding himself in.

And that was nothing to say about how much of a relief it would provide to her if the League was aware of his presence and would be able to keep an eye on him should anything happen to him.

"It's about your cousin." She said slowly, forcing herself to meet Diana's eyes, which narrowed in confusion.

"Percy," She clarified, and nodded at the screen.

"He's there. He's on the island."

Life just got a touch more complicated.

Notes:

We're back! Haven't seen anyone try and do this in the PJO fandom, and this is an idea I've had for months. That's right…Arkham Asylum. The longest night of the Dark Knight's career…and our boy is going to be in the middle of the damn thing. I got some fun things lined up for you. Some things that are really, really going to shake things up in the world. It's gonna be a hell of a lot of fun, and I can't wait for you to see what we got going on here. So let me know how you liked the chapter, what you think is gonna happen, and what you're looking forward to! As always shoutout to Double0Sxvxn for being an awesome Beta and dealing with my bullshit and as always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week.

All My Love and see you next week,

LilDB

Chapter 26: Thinly Made It Be

It was only years of active combat experience and hard training that allowed him to maintain his composure. Whirling around from the desk, Percy rounded on the pair of shellshocked guards, who were gaping in abject awe and horror at the flashing emergency sirens in the ceiling.

"Armory!" Percy barked, unwittingly dropping back into the role he'd once filled in the Legion.

The guards jumped in fright, and turned to face him. The nearest, a kid who couldn't have been more than nineteen, babbled incoherently at him. Growling in frustration, Percy stalked towards the men,

"Where is the armory?" He asked again, taking care to speak more slowly and to carefully enunciate each word.

"W-wha-" The young guard stammered,

"The armory son!" He barked, his frustration boiling over at the sheer incompetence on display before him, "Where is the godsdamned armory! I've seen the schematics; I know this island has an armory in every building. We need to lock it down before any of the inmates can get there first!"

He also needed to furnish himself with a weapon. While he was more than capable of defending himself from some psychotic thugs, he couldn't exactly go around showing off what he could do in a facility with more cameras than bathrooms. While he still had his hidden backup sidearm in his hip holster, he would feel an awful lot more comfortable if he was packing something with a bit more heat to it.

"Sector three!" Squeaked out the younger guard's frightened partner, who looked to be nearer to Percy's age, and only slightly less rattled than his partner. "By the barracks."

"Move it! We need it locked down now!"

"Wait!" A packed voice cried out before the guard could respond, and the receptionist barreled back into the room. She was looking hysterical, her eyes wide in terror and her hair already looking in disarray.

"Take me with you, please! I-you can't leave me alone with these animals!"

Percy almost groaned, but nodded all the same. he wasn't thrilled about the prospect of babysitting civilians, but he wasn't about to leave the poor woman alone with the inmates, lord only knew what might happen to her otherwise.

"Stay close, and don't wander off," Percy ordered, and the frightened woman nodded, scooting as close as possible to Percy, who ignored her and turned his attention back to the guards.

"Are you two armed?" He asked,

"J-just stun batons, sir," The older of the guards answered,

"Day just keeps getting better and better," Percy grumbled as he pulled his own side-arm from its hidden holster and he loaded in a magazine,

"How did you-" The older guard started to ask, then seemed to think better of it and fell silent.

"Stay close and point me in the right direction." Percy ordered, and the older guard nodded his head shakily and they proceeded off at a careful, but quick pace. Percy was leading the small party, his weapon drawn and scanning the empty corridor, with the receptionist clutching tightly at his back and the two guards flanking him, stun batons drawn and their eyes swerving from right to left nervously.

As they walked, Percy kept his senses expanded outwards, constantly searching for any and all possible incoming threats. But with the density of the building, the sheer number of bodies inside, the plumbing and the small matter that they were trapped on an island, his senses were going a little haywire. He was almost overwhelmed with the amount of sensory input that was coming his way, but he pushed through his difficulties and maintained a steady pace, but he paused as he approached the next corridor. There were three bodies coming their way, it was difficult to interpret who they were by the shapes of water on their own, but their posture and relaxed demeanor told the story for him.

Pausing against the corridor wall, he held a fist up, and felt as the receptionist he still didn't know the name of walked into him. He held up three fingers, and pointed at the upcoming corridor. Glancing over his shoulder, he pointed at the younger guard and then at small junction in the corridor. The young man gulped, but nodded as he seemed to understand what Percy was getting at, and he tucked himself into the small junction, hiding him from view. Percy then repeated the gesture to a similar junction on the opposite side of the hall, and the other guard followed suit.

"Stay behind me, and do exactly as I tell you." Percy said in an undertone to the woman behind him. He felt her ball her hands into the back of his shirt in response. Turning his attention back to the hallway, he raised his weapon back into the air and waited. Moment by moment crept by as the sound of footsteps and voices drew steadily closer. With each passing moment, the woman dug her hands more into his shirt, until Percy could literally feel her nails digging into his skin.

But he ignored the sensation and focused solely on the men that appeared around the corner.

He had been correct, they were inmates. The lead inmate halted as he came around the corner, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw Percy standing there, weapon raised and pointed directly at his chest.

People had very interesting reactions to having a live weapon pointed at them. Most did the sensible thing, and tried their best to make sure that the weapon wasn't used on them. Others such as the unfortunate man in front of him, opted instead to adopt a faux sense of confidence and bravado. Masking their fear and apprehension with over-confidence and a false sense of invincibility.

"Well look what we have hear boys," The leader crooned, smirking nastily in their direction "A pair of lost little lambs. Ain't you heard the boss, this ain't your Asylum anymore."

"Only warning," Percy said, "On the ground, hands behind your head, or I put you in the dirt."

"Get a load 'a this mook," The lead inmate chuckled, gesturing to Percy with the large iron pipe in his hand, "Look at 'im, poor bastard's practically shakin' whaddya boys, say we put him outta his misery?" He took a confident step forward, and Percy depressed the trigger twice in rapid succession. The hall echoed with the result cracks of the weapon, and the receptionist let out a shrill scream as the inmate's stomach shook, each bullet finding their mark effectively. His mouth contorted into a brief look of confusion, before horror and fear took its place. He collapsed to the floor, blood pooling out and coagulating on the floor. The other thugs didn't have a chance to react, as on cue, the two guards stepped out from their hiding places, batons raised high in the air. Both connected with the sides of the inmates and they collapsed to the ground, convulsing for a few seconds before falling still.

"Y-you…" Stammered out the receptionist, "Y-you…h-he…b-but…"

"Good work," Percy said to the guards, ignoring the shell-shocked woman.

"This…" The older guard, that Percy only just saw was wearing a tag with the name Boucher, shook his head, "This is insane."

"Thought breakouts happened all the time," Percy commented as he stepped over the bodies and began his way slowly down the hall once more,

"Breakouts have happened, but nothing like this." Boucher said, flanking Percy's side, "You're going to take the next left."

"Well from what I've heard about the Joker, this seems pretty par for the course."

"Never seen him before?"

"Just transferred a few months ago, haven't run into any of super-freaks yet."

"Lucky you." Boucher shuddered, "Jokers…calling him insane understates it. He's-he's an entirely different breed. I'm not even sure he's human at this point. To pull something like this off?" He shuddered again and fell silent.

Percy couldn't help but agreeing with the man. To pull something like this off, it required a hell of a lot more than any single man should have been capable of, and the more Percy considered what was happening, the more he was becoming convinced that everything had been set in motion months ago. That nothing was a mere coincidence. The attack at Blackgate? The transfer of the inmates to Arkham? The Joker's kidnapping of the mayor and apparent capture?

It was all too coincidental; everything had been set in motion far sooner than they could have been predicted.

Which brought Percy to another more concerning line of thought.

Why was he there? Clearly there had been a setup to send him here, that much was obvious. But what was Winston's role in all of this? Winston didn't have the resources to pull all of this together, and Percy seriously doubted that he was on the Joker's radar enough for him to want Percy of all people on the island. The only explanation was that there was something else going on as well. Something or someone else that was manipulating things that wanted Percy on the island.

His first thought was that it was one of his many divine enemies. Someone who wanted him dead but couldn't intervene in mortal affairs conventionally. But he wrote that off as unlikely. It wasn't any of the divine's styles to work so closely with mortals or to work in the dark like this. Which meant that whoever wanted him dead was a mortal, but who? Who had he pissed off that could have the kind of necessary power and pull to get him here? Falcone? That was surely possible, and Percy had made it fairly clear that he wasn't going to rest until the bastard was behind bars.

But would even he be desperate enough to employ the likes of the Joker? Once again, Percy had his doubts. The Joker was the ultimate wild card, and only the fool of fools would think that they would be able to control that madman. There was no way that Falcone would be stupid enough to get into bed with Joker. Not just to kill some cop who refused to get in line.

No. There had to be something else going on.

But what?

And more importantly, who?

He was brought out of his musings by their arrival to the armory. Luckily the architects of the Asylum hadn't been dumb enough to label the stockpile, but Percy had spent enough time around weapons stores that he was quick to recognize the enhanced and reinforced architecture around the armory.

Boucher walked up to a section of the wall, and pressed on it. The wall depressed and revealed a biometric scanner, pressing his palm against the scanner there was a beeping sound, before the wall clicked, hissed, and then opened wide revealing a doorway. Sliding a key card through another security slot on the door, the door opened and Boucher quickly ushered them inside.

"It's on a five second timer," He explained as the others made it into the room. "As an added security measure to make sure no inmates can have the opportunity to get inside."

Percy glanced around the room, it was secure enough he supposed, but he was far more interested in being proactive than holing up in the small room for the rest of the night. His eyes landed on the gun racks at the other side of the room. Without hesitation, he marched over to the racks and grabbed the nearest assault rifle. There were crates of munitions on the wall perpendicular to the racks. Reaching over, Percy grabbed the nearest crate of 5.56 and began loading rounds into a pair of cartridges.

"W-what are you doing?" The younger guard, whose name was apparently Brooks, shakily stepped forward and watched Percy work.

"You're…you're not going back out there are you?" He looked horrified by the prospect, and even more horrified by the thought that Percy might ask him to tag along.

"Yup," Percy said simply, as he slammed the cartridge home, and chambered a round. Placing the rifle on the table, he glanced around the room again, before seeing a pair of discarded tactical vests on a table. Walking over, he made a cursory inspection of the vests, feeling them down and was satisfied to find that there were SAPI plates already inserted. Grabbing one of the vests, he checked to make sure it fit him, and after a few minor adjustments was pleased with the snug fit.

"Are you insane?" The receptionist shrieked, looking horrified. "We-we-we can't go back out there! It's a mad house!"

"We aren't going anywhere." Percy corrected as he went back over to the racks and began filling up additional cartridges with ammunition. "You, are staying here. I am going back out there."

"Why the hell would you do that?" Boucher asked,

"Because someone sent me here, knowing damn well that the man I was sent to interrogate doesn't exist. I plan to find out why." He slipped his sidearm into a new holster on his hip, and slung the rifle over his shoulder. Spying an abandoned radio earpiece on the table, he reached over, and connected the pack to his hip, before putting the piece in his ear.

"These things connected to the broadband channel?"

"…Yeah." Boucher looked like he wanted to protest Percy going back out there, but he seemed to think better of it. If Percy had a death wish, then that was on him.

"Perfect," Percy muttered, as he made his way to the door. "Stay in here, and don't let the door open for anyone. I'll send out an all clear when this mess gets cleaned up."

"Wouldn't bet on that." Brooks muttered, but Percy ignored him, and hit the panel on the wall beside the door. With a hiss, the door opened and a second later it closed, as Percy stepped out into the hall.

He flicked the safety off, and began following the arrows on the floor that were directing him towards the I.T. center of the building.

Flicking off the safety on the rifle in his arms, he set off.

It was time to hunt.

---

For the umpteenth time that night, he let out a small sigh and took a sip of the now cold tea at his side.

Alfred Pennyworth was having a long night. Another, long night rather. After the last several years, he had become accustomed to working these types of late hours, but tonight was going to amount to one of the hardest of his life, of that he was certain.

It had been bad enough when dinner had been interrupted by news of the clowns kidnapping of the mayor downtown. But a bad night had become outright nightmarish when Master Bruce had gotten locked on that damnable island.

Damn it all. Damn the living hell that was Gotham. Damn Joe Chill. Damn that blasted clown to the deepest, and most fiery pits of hell itself.

Not for the first time since his young master had donned his alter ego, he wished that someone had gotten a lucky shot and ended the life of the miserable monster that had caused tonight's mess. For some random officer to fire off the shot that ended the bastard's life, if for no other reason than to free Master Bruce from this seemingly never-ending game of one ups-Manship between the two.

It wasn't that he didn't agree with his ward's philosophy when it came to his extracurriculars. On the contrary, it was one of the few aspects of the man's life that Alfred genuinely agreed with. The likes of the Justice League were playing on an entirely different playing field than the rest of humanity. Master Bruce most of all had a…trying mental state. His own fragile mind-scape was already on the verge of breaking as it was, and should the man cross the proverbial line and take a life intentionally, then it was an unquestioned reality that he would never stop. With his talents, and endless resources, the only thing standing between Bruce and becoming something…horrific was the Justice League.

But not even they would pose much of a problem if the contingency plans on the Bat Computer were anything to go by.

There would be no stopping him. No stopping him from killing anyone and everyone that he deemed as "guilty." It was a reality that had kept Alfred awake at night on more than one occasion.

But while he agreed with Master Bruce's most unbreakable rule, it did not mean that he did not wish death upon the miserable bastard who made it his life's mission to murder as many people as possible in a vicious and cruel attempt to get his ward to break his rule.

He changed the camera angle away from the Intensive Care unit, and began looking at the cameras in the Penitentiary. The majority of the inmates from Blackgate had been moved to that building of the Asylum, and it was worth knowing exactly what the situation was looking like on that part of the island.

Not that Alfred had high hopes for it.

At the least, he could hope that the poor bastards trapped inside were managing to survive. He paused and had to look again as he clicked to a camera in the hall of the southern part of the Penitentiary, a short distance away from where the blueprints listed the armory for that wing of the island was positioned. He watched as a pair of inmates confronted two guards and what appeared to be two civilians. But as he squinted, adjusting the spectacles on his nose, he realized with a start that one of the civilians was not a civilian at all.

"What the devil are you doing here detective?" He muttered as he watched the scene unfold.

Unfortunately, the cameras in the building weren't equipped with microphones so he couldn't hear what was being said, but judging by the fact that Detective Jackson had managed to arm himself, he could wager what was being said. The inmate that appeared to be the leader stepped forward, brandishing the large pipe in his hand menacingly. The detective didn't hesitate in the slightest, and a moment later the inmate was shot down in the hall, and the other inmates were dispatched by the guards the detective had come across.

What on earth was the demigod son of the Roman god of the seas doing on Arkham Asylum. He'd checked the records earlier when the breakout occurred, in order to determine precisely who was on the island, but the detective's name was nowhere on the list. Unconsciously, his hand hovered over to the radio connection he shared with Batman, intent on informing the man of this recent development.

But he hesitated.

The smallest shred of an idea occurred to him. A crazy, yet potentially brilliant idea. One that would, should it ever come to light, undoubtably tarnish the relationship he had with the man he thought of as a son forever.

But an opportunity had presented itself to him. An opportunity to rid himself, and the world, of a menace that needed to be put to rest like that mad dog that he was.

But how to go about doing it? How did he get ahold of the detective in order to share with him the plan that had taken root in his mind?

Luck, or perhaps fate, was on his side. There was a camera in the armory, which the detective had found within short order. True to form with the man, he immediately began equipping himself for combat. He supposed that a man of action such as the detective would be completely unable to keep himself out of a fight such as this.

The detective had found a radio, and Alfred found his opening. When the detective cleared the room, and was alone in the Asylum once more, he took the opportunity. He clicked on the screen that enabled him to communicate over the radio frequency used in the Asylum, and quickly set an encryption. Taking a breath to compose himself, he adjusted the microphone on his face, and cleared his throat.

"Good evening detective,"

---

Percy jumped in alarm at the sudden voice in his ear. Raising the rifle, he scanned his surroundings, he'd been careful about using his abilities to find any potential threats, but it wasn't a foolproof system.

"My apologies detective," The voice said in his ear, and Percy whirled around but there was nobody there. He gulped and sweat dribbled down the back of his neck. "I did not mean to startle you."

"Who are you?" Percy demanded, as he got out of the middle of the corridor, and tucked himself into a small alcove in the hall.

"I am a friend of a mutual acquaintance; I aid him in his…nightly activities."

Percy paused, and then lowered the weapon,

"I didn't know the Bat played nice with anybody."

"Oh, I assure you that he does not." The voice chuckled, "But I fear that I seem to have wormed my way into providing my assistance, rather reluctantly though I suppose. You may call me Oracle."

"I'm not calling you that," Percy said, rolling his eyes. Honestly, what was it with Capes and ridiculous codenames. The disembodied voice chuckled again in his ear,

"I had thought that the American military was rather fond of using silly codenames. I would have thought you were used to it."

"I thought it was stupid then, and I think it's stupid now." Percy retorted, "You know my name, and I'm guessing more than you have any right to know, now who are you?"

There was a pause on the line, and Percy thought for a moment that the man had disconnected from the call, but then he spoke up again. This time however, he sounded genuinely remorseful.

"You are…correct, detective. And for what it's worth, I am genuinely sorry for the invasion into your life."

Percy snorted, "Sure." He said bitterly,

"You may call me Alfred." Alfred said, and Percy nodded to himself,

"Alfred then, what do you want? Can't imagine the big bad bat would be too happy to be contacting me." He paused, "He does know you're contacting me, doesn't he?"

"He does not," Alfred replied, "And you are quite right, he would not be pleased with me that I am contacting you, but I believe that I have good cause to do so."

That certainly had his attention.

"Yeah?" Percy asked, as he peeked around the corner,

"You can relax detective," Alfred assured him, "The nearest inmates are three floors above you. I assure you that I can inform you of any potential harms coming your way."

"Of course, you've hacked the camera's" Percy grumbled, even as his posture relaxed and he began a leisurely pace back down the hallway,

"Okay then Alfred, you still haven't told me what all of this is about."

"My apologies detective, allow me to explain. I've reached out to you tonight because I have a favor to ask."

"That's bold of you." Percy observed, as he glanced at a directory on a wall, and traced his way to the I.T. center with a finger,

"Indeed, however I believe that what I have in mind will interest you."

"Yeah?" He snorted, "What makes you think that?"

"Because I want you to help me kill the Joker."

Percy stopped mid-step, and unconsciously looked up at the ceiling as though he were talking to God.

"I think I might have misheard you…" He said slowly, "Because it sounded a hell of a lot like you just asked me to kill the Joker."

"I did," Alfred affirmed, "The man needs to die,"

"Won't disagree with you there." Percy muttered, "But why the fuck are you asking me about that? I thought you Capes were all about not killing people."

"Point of correction, I am not a superhero."

Percy snorted,

"And yes, The Batman would be…most displeased if he knew what I had in mind,"

"I don't think you could understate that more if you tried."

Alfred ignored him,

"And The Batman's own moral code forbids him from taking the bastards life himself, something I reluctantly agree with myself."

"So you want me to do his dirty work for him?" Percy snapped, feeling suddenly angry, "I'm not a godsdamn errand boy, and I'm sure as hell not some kind of hitman for Capes."

"I know you're not." Alfred said patiently, "And I-I understand what it is I'm asking of you."

"Do you?" Percy asked hotly, "Because it sounds a lot like you're asking me to kill someone? Twisted son of a bitch or not, you and I both know that I can't just walk up and put a bullet in the bastard's brain! Unlike your Bat, I have a goddamn career I have to worry about!"

"I understand that detective," Alfred soothed, "But think about your circumstances for a moment. Do you truly believe that there is a jury in the entire country that would find you guilty of killing that madman given the circumstances?"

Percy ground his teeth against one another and he forced himself to try and calm down.

"Be that as it may." He ground out, "I have other priorities than getting involved in superhero bullshit."

"You are referring to your presence on the island, yes?"

Percy was starting to dislike this man.

"I admit to being curious to that as well, why are you here detective?"

Percy was very sorely tempted to tear the earpiece out, throw it the ground, and stomp it to little gray matter. But he was stressed, and annoyed, and there was an obnoxious little voice in the back of his head that was telling him that this was an opportunity for him. An opportunity that he could take advantage of.

"I don't know," He said, "Got a call from Winston just after the Joker call was put out, and I was ordered to come here and interrogate some guy who was saying he'd only speak to me."

Percy could hear the man hum to himself over the intercom followed by what sounded like typing at a keyboard.

"I assume that when you got here, it turned out that there was no one here to see you?"

"Got it in one. No record of anyone by the name of Gar al S'hul, no one has heard of him before. I was going to head over to I.T. and see if I could dig anything up there."

"…Gar al S'hul?" Alfred asked quietly, a slight tremor in his voice that caused Percy to pause.

"You know him?" He asked,

"Yes…yes I'm afraid that I do. But I know him by another name entirely. The man you are searching for…is R'as al Ghul."

"Ominous." Percy snorted, "You make him sound like the damn boogie man."

"He might as well be." Alfred muttered bitterly, "He is the head of an organization of the deadliest assassins in the world…They call themselves the League of Shadows."

Percy snorted, he couldn't help himself, "The League of Shadows?" He laughed, "You sure that isn't just this guy's WoW server?"

"I assure you that this is no laughing matter detective." Alfred demurred, "What on earth did you do that has the League of Shadows after you?"

"The fuck should I know?" Percy asked, "This is the first time I've ever even heard of these guys before!"

"This is problematic," Alfred muttered to himself,

"No shit?" Percy asked sarcastically,

"I believe it would be best to continue your way to the tech center, detective," Alfred instructed, "I have only limited access to the records from here, but I believe we might be able to find some clue as to exactly why or how the League of Shadows has been interfering in your life."

Percy didn't move, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because I wish to guilt you into helping me." Alfred said, and Percy couldn't help but appreciate the brutal honesty, "Additionally, any matters involving the League of Shadows are matters that are worth investigating thoroughly. Do you believe that they are aware of what you are?"

"A person?" Percy said bitterly, a wash of anger flowing over him.

"…My apologies, detective. That was rather crass of me."

Percy sighed, and rubbed tiredly at his eyes,

"It's fine. But I have no idea. Didn't even know that these people existed until today, so I have no clue if they know everything about me or not."

"A fair assessment," Alfred hummed, and Percy could hear something beep on his side of the line, "My apologies detective, but I must step away for now. Consider my offer and I will be in touch again shortly." Before Percy could say anything else, there was a click, and the line went dead.

"I hate my life."

---

"Wait, Percy? Did I miss something?"

"Wait isn't that the guy who killed Klarion?"

"Oh the Bat ain't gonna be happy about this one."

Dinah knew she shouldn't have said anything, but they needed to have all the cards on the table here, and Percy was objectively too much of a wildcard for the League not to be aware of his presence on the island.

While the rest of the League had devolved into confused and excited muttering, Diana looked shockingly calm.

With a simple raise of her hand, the rest of the room fell silent, and Diana kept her eyes steadily glued to Dinah's.

"What is Perseus doing on the island?" She inquired,

"Not sure," Dinah shook her head, "All I know is what his partner told me. Apparently their station lieutenant, I think his name is Winston? He called Percy just after the call about the Joker went out. He told Percy that there was someone on the island that wanted to meet him, from what I gathered there was no one actually there."

"That's…distressing." Diana admitted, worrying at her lip in agitation.

"Jackson always did have a way of making enemies," Superman observed, and Diana rolled her eyes,

"Kal," She sighed, "We talked about this."

"I'm just saying!" The Man of Steel said defensively, "He has a habit of finding himself in situations he shouldn't be in."

"As is the unfortunate life of a demigod," Diana retorted, "Especially the son of one of the elder gods."

"Question," Flash interjected, raising a hand in the air, "Can't he, like, teleport?"

Diana snorted, "Certainly a…unique way of describing it. But in so many words, I suppose you could say that."

"Then why is he still on the island?" He looked around at his colleagues in confusion, "Why not just, I don't know, leave?"

"Because he's as stubborn as Batman." Dinah groused, and Diana chuckled,

"You are not wrong. But I fear that it goes beyond simply being stubborn." She walked over to the monitor, which was showing a still image of Percy that had been pulled form cameras on the island.

"He has pride, not debilitating to be sure, but he has it nonetheless. Someone is clearly trying to do him harm and he understands this. He is going to stay on the island and try and get to the bottom of who it is that is after him."

"Well that's great," Hal Jordan grumbled, "So now we have the Joker and a demigod running around the most dangerous prison in the country. That's just…perfect."

"So what are we supposed to do about it?" Hawkman asked,

"Nothing," Superman answered, though he looked far from pleased about it.

"Batman gave us a rather clear order in regards to the situation…and as much as it pains me to say this, he's usually right. For now, we continue to monitor the situation."

"And if Jackson decides to just cut loose?" John Stewart asked,

"He won't!" Both Diana and Dinah said hotly,

"We've all read the reports, this guy could probably sink that entire damn island into the sea if he wanted to. What's to stop him from doing that?"

"The fact that, in spite of my current agitation with the man, he's shown no signs of hostile intent in the entire time I've known him." Superman countered, though it looked like it pained him to admit it.

"I've worked closely with the detective, both as Clark and as Superman, and I can vouch for him. He won't do anything that jeopardizes the many civilians on that island."

"I still don't like it,"

Luckily he was interrupted by a sudden burst of static by a nearby monitor, as a familiar voice called through the radio,

"Batcave to Watchtower."

Superman pressed a button on his command terminal,

"Watchtower to Batcave, go ahead Alfred,"

"We have…a new development at Arkham."

"If this is about detective Jackson, we already know that he's-"

"R'as al Ghul was the one that sent him to the island."

The room fell silent at the sudden pronouncement, and The Flash summed up their thoughts rather eloquently,

"Well…shit."

Notes:

Things are getting spicy in Arkham! Oh man, you guys are in for some fun stuff the next couple of chapters, and I can't wait for you all to see them! Hope you've been enjoying the ride, and let me know what you think of the chapter and the story as a whole! As always shoutout to Double0Sxvxn for being an awesome Beta and dealing with my bullshit and as always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week.

All My Love and see soon,

LilDB

Chapter 27: A Sharp Wind Blows

Dinah wasn't really aware of what she was doing. Since Alfred's proclamation, her mind had gone strangely blank. She was unconsciously aware that she was moving, but she wasn't completely sure where she was going or what she was doing.

All she could think about was Percy, and how in the hell he'd managed to get wrapped up in the League of Shadows. Try as she might, she couldn't think of a time in recent memory in which he would have gotten their attention. She'd been keeping an eye on him for months now, and nowhere in that time had he shown the slightest inclination that he was getting wrapped up with the Shadows.

She didn't realize that she'd been walking over to the Zeta Tubes until she felt a hand on her shoulder, jumping in surprise. She was startled to see Green Arrow's concerned face looking down on her.

"Di…" he said carefully, "Where are you going?"

She blinked, confused for a moment, before she realized where she was. She hadn't made the conscious decision to begin making her way to the transporters, but now that she was here, she understood on a conscious level that she was wanted to do.

"I'm going back to Gotham," She said, "I want to look into something."

Arrow leveled her with a gaze that she knew entirely too well. Their split up might have been mutual, but the man still knew her entirely too well,

"Don't bullshit me Di," He said quietly, "You got that look in your eye, you're going to look into this Shadows thing, aren't you?"

"There's something wrong here." She said by way of confirmation, "I've been following him for months now, and I can promise you that he hasn't done anything that would warrant him being on the radar of the shadows."

"Except for killing the Witch Boy." Arrow said, though it was more of a contemplative statement than an accusation.

"But why would the Shadows care about something like that?" Dinah asked,

"Point taken," Arrow admitted, before glancing around at the other heroes, "I'll run interference for you."

Dinah smiled in relief. Their split had been painful, regardless of the circumstances that made it the right call, but she was still thankful for his understanding of her and what she needed. Squeezing his arm, she smiled at him,

"Thanks Ollie,"

Without another word, she ran into the Zeta tube, and a few moments later she found herself back in Gotham city.

She didn't necessarily have a plan in mind, more of a hunch about what she wanted to do. She wasn't typically one to make things up as she went, but the situation more or less called for it. Pulling up her League database, she ran with an idea that was tickling at the back of her mind. It didn't take her long to find the address she was looking for, and with a press of the device on her wrist, the wall beside the Zeta Tube opened up, revealing a sleek motorcycle. Swinging her leg over the bike, the engine roared to life and she took off into the night.

---

David Winston relaxed comfortably in his seat, there were few perks to his chosen line of work, but nights like tonight were certainly one of them. While the rest of the department was scrambling, trying to figure out how to get the Commissioner off of that damned island, he was comfortably at home, lounging in his favorite chair and with a glass of his finest port.

And his night was made all the sweeter knowing that one of the pains in his side was going to be taken care of that night as well.

Percy Jackson made his life difficult. Ever since the smug bastard had arrived at his precinct, he'd seemed bound and determined to make his life as miserable as possible. The bastard, along with that bitch Montoya, made a habit of making him and the department look incompetent.

The One-Seven had had a good thing going for it before the pair's arrival. They got the job done, without stepping on too many toes, and maintained a good enough closure rate to avoid too much suspicion. They all got paid, and the bosses were happy, it was harmony.

And then those two came waltzing in and fucked everything up. Montoya and Jackson had a better case closure rate than the rest of the precinct combined. They had more high-profile cases and closed cases than anyone else. They were getting the attention and praise of the commissioner and the district attorney.

It was infuriating.

And then to make matters worse, was that they began stirring up trouble for the family. He should have known it was going to be trouble when their first fucking case crossed paths with the family. It was only sheer luck that those super freaks attacked that kept the heat off the family for much longer.

And then there was the obvious threat Jackson had made to Wise, and the ass-kicking that Canary bitch had given some of the boys from the family. Things were starting to deteriorate quickly, and the boss had been making not so subtle hints about what was going to happen to Winston should Jackson not be taken care of and soon.

He'd been desperate, had been looking into even hiring a private contractor to take care of the problem.

And then his guardian angel appeared, as though summoned by God almighty to answer his prayers. He still didn't know the name of the woman who'd approached him, and he was honestly better off that way, but she'd told him that everything was going to be taken care of. That Jackson was not going to be a problem, and that all he needed to do was wait for the signal.

Well, he did his part well enough he thought. He'd waited, bided his time, and then tonight when the Joker had kidnapped the mayor, he got the signal. All of the strings had already been pulled, all the right wheels already greased, at least as far as he'd been told. He hadn't been told what the real plan was, hadn't known that the Joker was going to take over the asylum, but that wasn't any skin off his nose. Whatever his benefactor's relationship to the Joker wasn't any of his business, all he cared about was that Jackson was on the island and that by the end of the night, he would have one less problem in his world.

Sighing happily, he curled up into his chair a little more deeply and took a deep pull of his port. Tonight, was a cause for celebration, and absolutely nothing could happen that would affect his bright mood.

Then the window exploded.

Glass flew across the room, and Winston shrieked as several shards tore across and cut through the skin on his face. He fell to the floor in shock, and tried to scramble to his desk where he kept a loaded pistol at all times.

But he didn't even get close.

A heeled boot slammed down on his hand and he screamed once more. He grunted in pain as a pointed toe slammed into his ribs and all of the wind was ripped out of his stomach, and he was all but certain that something inside had snapped. He let out a wheezing cough, droplets of blood spewing from his lips as he was bodily rolled over onto his back. He was vaguely aware of his arm being yanked into the air, and screamed in pain again, as it was twisted violently.

Stars filled his vision, and he could barely make out the blonde-haired, darkly clothed form, standing menacingly above him.

"You ordered Percy Jackson to go to the Asylum tonight, why?!" A modulated, but undoubtedly feminine, voice snarled at him.

"We-we got a call a-about an inmate-" He tried to say, but felt the woman increase pressure on one of his fingers, which abruptly snapped.

He screamed.

"Don't lie to me!" The woman growled, "Not tonight, now talk!" She increased the pressure on another finger.

"I don't know who she was!" Winston howled. "She came to me!" The words tumbled from him entirely too fast for him to even consider what he was saying. He wasn't thinking, all he knew was that he wanted the pain to stop, and he wanted the woman to leave him alone.

"She just told me to wait for the signal, and then to tell Jackson he needed to go to the Asylum, I swear I don't know anything else!"

"What did she look like!?" The woman snarled, applying just enough pressure to hurt, but not enough to snap the bones of the finger,

"Fuck!" He squeaked, "I-I don't-she was Asian!….And she had black hair and-and gah! And-and brown eyes! That's it I thought, I swear!"

"Why'd you agree to send him to the island?!"

"I-I c-can't! T-they'll kill-"

SNAP!

"Ahhhh!"

"You only have eight more fingers and I'm running out of patience! Now talk!"

"Falcone!" Winston howled, "Falcone wants him gone! Jackson's been getting too close to shit he shouldn't be and now Falcone wants him dead! I don't know how that woman found me, but when she offered a way to get rid of him, I didn't ask too many questions! I swear that's it!"

Tears had started running down his face as the pain was beginning to become overwhelming, and the fear of the reality of his situation was beginning to dawn on him.

The woman dropped her hold on his hand and stepped off of him. He scrambled to his feet and dove for the nightstand to retrieve his pistol. But when he turned around, the woman had already vanished.

He shakily let the weapon drop to his side, and as he looked on at the state of his destroyed living room, his arm and chest throbbing, he felt the beginnings of panic well up inside his chest.

He'd just talked, and Falcone was sure to find out.

He needed to get out of town. Right fucking now.

---

Dinah landed on the roof of the opposite town home with a soft 'thud' and retracted her grappling hook, before stowing it away safely inside her utility belt.

Asian woman with dark hair and brown eyes was not anything to go on. But maybe there would be something in the League database. She didn't want to go back to the Watchtower at the moment. While she was sure the others wouldn't try and interfere, she just wanted to look into this on her own.

Which really only left one option available to her. With a sigh, she dropped to the other side of the building, and began making her way to the nearest Zeta Tube.

Hopefully the kids would already all be asleep.

"Yeah right Di," She snorted to herself.

"No chance of that happening."

---

Alfred had been right, and Percy ran into no opposition on his way to the I.T. center. But that left him with another problem entirely.

He didn't understand computers.

"Really didn't think this one through, did you Jackson?" He grumbled to himself as he began rummaging his way through the various cabinets and desks in the center. The terminals were all encrypted, and required a passcode in order to gain access to them.

Percy was banking on at least one person in the facility being like him, and could never remember their own passwords and had it written down somewhere.

His hunch had been right, and after ten minutes of looking around, he found a sticky note inside one of the desk drawers with the week's passwords written in hasty script. Tearing the sticky note from the drawer, he went back to the computer and input the password.

With his newfound access to the terminal, he hastily began scrolling through the many files on the desktop. The vast majority of the files were patient and inmate catalogues, prescription receipts, and inmate reports. Percy ignored the files and ran his own search, but neither Gar al S'hul nor Ra's al Ghul appeared anywhere in the system.

Not that he was surprised.

If these people were really the best assassins in the world, then they wouldn't have left a trace of their involvement anywhere in the system. But that didn't necessarily mean that there wouldn't be something he could get from the system.

Leaning back, he thought about how he wanted to proceed. Clearly whoever wanted Percy on the island knew that the Joker was going to be breaking out the inmates. An operation of this size and scale would require immense resources, as well as very intricate and careful planning. If even one thing went wrong, then it was entirely likely that the entire operation would go south. If Percy were in their position, then he would have wanted to inspect the island, even if it was just a cursory inspection to get a first-hand look at the security systems and layout.

Pulling up a new page, he began looking through visitor records, trying to see if any names struck him as odd or out of place. There weren't many who deigned to visit one of the most dangerous prisons in the country, so the list of visitors was rather short.

He started with the visitors from a few months ago, and began working his way up to present day. He didn't find anything of note until roughly a month ago, where a security consultant had checked in. Frowning in confusion, Percy ran through a mental timeline of the last month, and found that the date of the inspection was only a day before the attack by that league of super-villains. On a hunch, he checked the records again to see if the black gate records were stored on the same server, after all both of the prisons were owned and operated by the same company.

Luckily, both sets of records were indeed stored on the same cloud, and he was able to pull up the visitor records from the same day. Sure enough, the same person had visited Blackgate the day before the attack. That confirmed to Percy that the attack on Blackgate had most certainly not been an act of random chance, but had been part of a grander plan to get the inmates at the prison transferred to Arkham for holding.

He pulled up the name of the woman who had visited the prisons, and ran a quick search on the name. But nobody by the name of Sandra Wu-San appeared in any official records or documentation. Frowning, Percy then typed in the name of the consulting firm that she supposedly represented, but there was no such thing as 'Wintergreen Defense' in any official database either.

"Who the fuck are you Sandy?" He muttered.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A disembodied voice called out from the speaker system, and Percy froze.

"A very naughty detective is snooping around where he shouldn't be," The voice giggled, a sinister and disturbing sound that left the hairs on the back of Percy's neck standing on end.

So apparently this was the Joker…well he certainly lived up to his terrifying reputation.

"What are you doing here mister detective. You weren't on the guest list!" Percy unconsciously tightened his grip on his rifle. "This…is a private party mister and you. Weren't. Invited. Oh Boyyyyyys! Why don't you head on over to the penitentiary and show this doddering detective what happens to party crashers!" The howling cackle that followed was enough to send a shiver up his spine.

Percy had seen things that would make grown men cower, had faced down gods and titans. Had seen the worst that his world had to offer, and nothing was as utterly unnerving as that gods-damned laugh.

But he didn't have the time to think, already he could feel several bodies hurrying in his direction. This was not the place he wanted to be when it came to a firefight. He was too boxed in and there were too many opportunities for someone to sneak around him. Gripping his rifle as tight to his body as possible, he raced from the room, he remembered a spot not too far from his current position that provided him with an ample opportunity to funnel whatever was coming his way into a kill-box.

Climbing a set of stairs two at a time, he vaulted over a small wall overlooking the staircase and the hall below him, and trained his rifle down the corridor. The wall was made of a sturdy marble, and he guesstimated that it would be just thick enough to provide him protection from small arms fire. He gulped down a mouthful of spit, and did his best to steady his breathing. Years of combat experience steadied his nerves and allowed him to tune out the stress of the situation as he focused his senses.

The hall was silent. Filled with the kind of stillness that always seemed to descend upon a battlefield just before all hell broke loose.

His heart hammered, and his ears roared with the sound of his blood pumping through his body as the comforting and familiar feeling of adrenaline began to pump through his system.

He felt them enter the hall before he saw them, their bodies appearing to his mind as bodies of water running quickly down the hall. He wasn't far enough away to necessitate leading the first man.

He didn't hesitate, and he calmly depressed the trigger.

The stillness of the hall was suddenly shattered as his weapon barked with the explosion of the rounds. The bullets tore through the abdomen of the first man that ran into the hall. His body jerked, and his momentum sent him sliding across the floor. The man following behind him hadn't been expecting the sudden attack and stumbled over the body, falling to the floor with a scream.

Depressing the trigger again, three more rounds ripped through the air before cutting down the second man. The others had grown wise to the sudden ambush, and hunkered down behind the large pillar at the corner of the hall. Percy ducked down as the mouth of a rifle poked around the corner and rounds soared through the air in his direction. However, he needn't have worried because the rounds sailed high over his head. Poking his head up one more time, he fired off another burst at the men around the corner in the hopes of keeping them penned down while he repositioned himself.

Hiding now behind the next wall beside the staircase, Percy peered around, his rifle raised. One of the other inmates was poking his head around the corner, investigating the sudden stop of gunfire in his direction. Not seeing or hearing anything, he poked his head just a touch more into the hall which was all that Percy needed to throw three more rounds down range. The man's head snapped back as blood and brain matter exploded out the back of his head in a violent spray of viscera.

"Well this is certainly disappointing," Joker's disembodied voice filled the hall once more, and Percy growled in agitation, he was already growing sick of the man's voice.

"Or maybe you're just interesting, detective, maybe you really do deserve to come to my little shindig," There was a minor pause where Percy dispatched the final inmate who tried to make a break for it across the hall.

"…Nah! I think I'll just kill you. Oh Haaaaarleyyyy!"

"Yes puddin'?" A new voice called out over the intercom, this one distinctly feminine and Percy figured that this must have been the Harley Quinn woman he'd heard about.

Her voice was incredibly grating, he decided.

"Be a dear and go take care of the man will you?"

"I'm on it puddin'! Don't go anywhere detective, you and I are gonna have us a little play~date." She punctuated the statement with an infuriating giggle.

"Only warning," Percy snarled up at the ceiling, "Fuck off and go play with the bat, or I'll put you in the goddamn ground."

"Oh-ho!" The Joker exclaimed happily, "Look at the spine on this one!" His voice took on a sinister edge to it, "I can't wait to watch as Harley breaks it."

"Not in the mood for this tonight." Percy growled to himself, then paused. This…this could actually work out in his favor. If the Joker was working with someone, which Percy was almost certain that he was, then surely he would know the name of the person. At least he or rather Quinn might have something for him. He just needed to make sure that he didn't kill the bitch before she told him what he needed to know.

"Have you reconsidered my offer then detective?" The familiar voice of Alfred said in his ear.

"Doesn't particularly sound like I'm going to have a choice in the matter," Percy said bitterly, "But I might have something if you're still willing to help."

"Of course, detective. What do you have?"

"A name. Sandra Wu-San. She went to both Arkham and Blackgate the day before the villain attack with those giant-ass plants, under the guise of being a security consultant for Wintergreen Defense."

"Hm," Alfred hummed and Percy could make out the sound of clicking on a keyboard in the background. In the interim, Percy occupied himself with reloading his rifle. He was searching to see if there were any more inmates heading in his direction but he couldn't feel anybody within the nearby vicinity.

"Well, that's distressing," Alfred observed,

"Never a good thing to hear," Percy commented as he vaulted back down onto the stairs. He needed to prep for whatever was coming his way.

"There doesn't appear to be anybody by that name in any government database on the planet."

"…Fucking hell? How do you-you know what, no, I don't want an answer to that question."

"Probably for the best. Nothing comes up for Wintergreen Defense either." Alfred seemed more intrigued than annoyed by the revelation.

"But…" Alfred trailed off, "Hm."

"Whatcha got for me Al?" Percy asked as he pulled a spare string off of the jumpsuit of one of the inmates. Pulling free one of the flash bangs in his vest, he tied a knot through the pin of the grenade.

"Please don't call me that," Alfred sighed, "The name Wintergreen does sound familiar, and there's something odd about it that I can't seem to place."

"Helpful," Percy grunted as he tied the string to an errant piece of brickwork and tied the string taut across the corridor.

"I'll keep looking, and just so you are aware, Harley Quinn is approaching the facility."

"Let me worry about her." Percy said as he repeated the process at the other side of the hall. "Should I assume that your buddy is aware that I'm here now?"

"He is," Alfred confirmed, "Though he is as confused as to your presence as we are."

"Well that's wonderful." Percy sighed, before perking up, there was a body approaching the facility and if Alfred was right, then it was almost certainly Quinn.

"Good talking to you Alfred, but I have a hot date."

"Indeed detective. And as a man once said, it is not wise to keep a lady waiting."

---

Dinah let out a relieved breath as she stepped out into the atrium of the mountain, it was late enough that it looked like the kids were probably in bed. That was probably for the best, she didn't want to have to explain herself at the moment. Not that what she was doing was wrong in any sense, but the less involved the kids were with the Shadows the better.

Pulling up the League's database, she began putting in the information she'd received from Winston, filtering out certain categories and limiting the search to any known associates of the Shadows.

Unsurprisingly, there were no hits in the system fitting with her description. The only other possibility it could have been was Cheshire, but the woman wasn't exactly tall, and she didn't have brown eyes as far as Dinah knew. That didn't mean she couldn't have worn colored contact lenses, but Dinah rather doubted it. It wasn't in Jade's style to be so brazen; she wasn't subtle enough for something like that.

She frowned, and then reworked her search, filtering the search for anyone fitting that description that the League's database might flag as suspicious entering Gotham. That time there were a number of hits. She clicked through a few of the names, writing them off as she did so, before she came across a promising hit. TSA got a picture of a woman entering Gotham International on an international flight from China. Not suspicious in and of itself, but the background on her passport was more than suspicious. Her documentation claimed that she was entering the country to conduct business on behalf of "Wintergreen Defense," but there was no record of any such sub-contractor in the League's system.

Frowning, Dinah entered the name that came up into the League's system as well, but there was nothing there as well. Minimizing the tab, she opened a new search and begun running a search on any and all known associates with the Shadows.

"What're you looking into the Shadows for?" A voice asked, and Dinah very nearly screamed. She'd been so engrossed in her work that she hadn't heard anyone approaching her. Turning, she met the face of Artemis, who was looking quizzically up at the screen.

"Shouldn't you be with the rest of the League? Tornado said it was all hands-on deck for what was going on at the Asylum."

Dinah frowned, Artemis was dressed in her uniform and looked ready for action. Dinah didn't feel like letting the girl know that if the shit really hit the fan, then there was absolutely no way that the League would be throwing the team into the Asylum.

"They're…semi-related." Dinah deflected, as she turned her attention back to the computer,

"The League thinks the Shadows are involved with the breakout?" Artemis scoffed, "Please, that's not their style."

"No," Dinah agreed, "But there's a little more going on than just the breakout."

"Like?" Artemis prompted, and Dinah almost groaned. So this was what it was like to be on the receiving end of it.

"Like it's none of your business Artemis." Dinah said with a little more heat than she intended,

"Geez, what's got you so ruffled?" Artemis scowled,

"Ugh, sorry," Dinah groaned, "Stressful night."

"Sorry you had to stand up your date with the cop," Artemis said with an eye-roll, and Dinah flinched, and hoped that Artemis hadn't seen her slip-up.

She had.

"Wait…" Artemis said slowly, "This is about him…isn't it?"

"Of course it's not," Dinah tried to deflect. She didn't know why she didn't want anyone to know that she was looking into this for Percy, but for some reason she just wanted to keep this close to the vest for the moment.

"Bullshit,"

Dinah's patience was beginning to run just a little thin with the girl, and it wasn't helping that her anxiety was already through the roof. Between the breakout, Percy, and now this, she was about ready to snap.

So she did.

"The League of Shadows wants Percy dead and lured him to the island because they knew the breakout was happening." Dinah said sharply, stunning both herself and the young heroine.

"…Holy shit," Artemis muttered,

"Sums it up pretty well, yeah," Dinah grunted,

"What the hell did he do to piss off the Shadows?"

"Believe me," Dinah sighed, "I really wish I knew."

Minimizing the page, she brought back up the image of the woman from before. She had meant to copy the image and send it out to the League, but was stopped when Artemis let out a small, startled gasp. Turning sharply to face her, confusion burst to the forefront of Dinah's consciousness.

Artemis had gone as white as snow, and she was staring at the image on the screen with an expression of horror and nausea.

"You know her?" Dinah asked quickly, but Artemis didn't seem to hear her, wrapped up as she was in her own little world.

Reaching out, Dinah grabbed the girl around the shoulder and gave her a gentle shake,

"Artemis!" She said, and Artemis started, her head whipping around to look at Dinah, "Do you know this woman?" Dinah asked again, taking great care to make sure that there was no hint of judgement or heat in her voice.

Artemis shakily nodded her head, and Dinah was once again grateful that she had taken the time to befriend the girl. Artemis was far more open with Dinah than she was with even her other peers, and seemed to trust Dinah about as much as she could trust anyone. She'd talked to Dinah about things that she was certain the young woman hadn't talked to anyone else about. Specifically about her time with the League of Shadows. The poor girl's youth was harder than even some of the other proteges, and that wasn't exactly an easy feat to accomplish. Having been born into a home of criminals, her father had inducted her into the League of Shadows when she'd only been a child.

In hindsight, Dinah shouldn't necessarily have been surprised that she would have an even better knowledge of the Shadows than the rest of the League.

"T-that's…" Artemis had to swallow, and try again, "Nobody knows her real name, I don't think she even has one…but…when I-when I was with…them…she was called Lady Shiva."

Dinah arched a brow at the rather…unique name, but didn't say anything, allowing Artemis to continue talking.

"She was all but the Demon's right hand. The best assassin in the league…a ghost story that dad used to tell me in order to make me behave. I've-I've only seen her once before, but-but that was enough." She shuddered, and clung to herself as tightly.

"The things I've heard about her…" She trailed off and met Dinah's eyes, a look of utter helplessness on her face,

"If she's involved…then the cop's as good as dead."

---

Percy kept himself tucked away in the shadows of the corridor. He'd taken care already to deal with the cameras, both to make sure that the Joker couldn't warn Quinn about where he was hiding, but also to make sure that there was no record of anything he was about to do. He didn't think, nor did he want, to have to use any of his abilities. But this wasn't some common thug he was going to be dealing with.

He'd heard horror stories about Quinn even as far away as Metropolis. She was every bit the unhinged psychopath that the Joker was, maybe even worse. the Joker always did something for a reason, even if he was simply killing people for the fun of it, it was always part of some grander plan. but Quinn? She was unpredictable. She only cared about the Joker, and that made her perhaps even more dangerous.

Hence the precautions.

He looked up, he could feel someone coming into the facility, and they were coming closer by the moment. Cracking the vertebrae in his neck, Percy tucked himself a little deeper into the shadows, and waited. He could have used his abilities to completely hide himself, but he didn't want to have to resort to them if he didn't have to.

It still left a sour taste in his mouth that he'd had to use so much power to kill Klarion.

A happy humming penetrated his ears, and he glanced up from his hiding place. He felt her before he saw her, and her humming grew louder in volume and in tempo as she approached.

"This little piggy got stabbed," She was singing to herself, it was out of tune and off-pitch, which only served to be all the more unnerving,

"This little piggy got shot. And this little piggy cried 'wee-wee-wee' all 'da way home!" He couldn't see here from where he was sitting, but he knew she was only a matter of feet from him now.

"Oh coppa! Where are youuuu?!" She had slowed to a meandering walk, seemingly content to take her time and make a show out this, "Ollie ollie oxen-free!" She stopped just short of the corridor,

"Hey!" She called out angrily, "That's where you're supposed to come out! No one likes a spoil sport!"

She began walking again, only to stop a few seconds later.

"Oh? Well what do we have here?" She let out a cackling howl of a laugh, and Percy grit his teeth in aggravation. Everything about this woman seemed to teeter on his last nerve.

"Hah! Did you really think I was going to fall for something like that? C'mon! That's like the oldest trick in the book. Now are you going to be a good boy and face me like a man, or is momma gonna have to spank you like the naughty little detective you are?"

She stepped over the trip-wire that Percy had set up, but that was all well and good. He'd been hoping for something like that. It wasn't a subtle trap, but it didn't need to be. Often, in his experience, when someone thought they'd overcome the obstacle, they got sloppy.

Which was precisely what happened.

Quinn was so proud of her accomplishment, that she completely skipped over the pile of bodies that Percy had stacked on the floor. More importantly, she missed the second trip wire that Percy had set up. A light clatter of metal on the floor was all the warning that she got before the hall exploded in a blinding flash of light and a mighty crash, like a thunderclap.

Quinn screamed in fright and pain as her eyes snapped shut and her hands clapped to her ears. Pressing his advantage, Percy charged forward. Closing the distance in only a few strides, he got his first glimpse at one of the most dangerous criminals in the entire country. She had changed her look to commemorate the invasion it seemed, as she'd ditched the red and black jumpsuit in favor of…something he was pretty sure he'd seen on co-eds on Halloween back in college. He supposed that the nurses outfit was supposed to be sexy? But the bloodstains and nightmarish clown makeup gave it more of a haunting appearance.

He wrapped one hand around the leg of the stunned woman and lifted her off of her feet. She screeched in surprise, but her surprise quickly turned to agonizing pain as Percy planted a fist right into her solar plexus, smashing her into the floor. He held back from using the true extent of his strength, he still wanted her alive, but even when he held back he was still far stronger than the average human, and he was pretty sure that he cracked at least a few of her ribs.

She gasped out a choked cry as she crashed into the floor, her head bouncing off of the marble painfully.

But Percy wasn't done.

Lifting his foot, he brought down the heel of his shoe right on the left knee of the woman. The resulting crunch as the bones were shattered was almost disconcerting enough to churn his stomach. Quinn, her eyes open and wide in horror and misery, opened her mouth and let out a silent wail of misery. Tears began to appear in the corners of her eyes and streamed slowly down her cheeks, smearing her mascara and face-paint. Percy wasn't satisfied with just that however, the woman was a menace and he'd heard enough over the comms to know that she'd been directly responsible for the deaths of more than a few members of the prison's staff. He was going to ensure that she wasn't hurting anyone else tonight, maybe even ever again if he had his way. Bringing his foot up again, he repeated the process with her other leg, crushing the other knee with a similar ease as the first.

He'd almost overdone it, and the woman's eyes were beginning to roll into the back of her head, but Percy wasn't about to let her slip into the sweet release of unconsciousness yet. He had questions and she would give him the answers he wanted.

Hopefully.

He grabbed a fistful of her corset and dragged her up to meet his eyes, channeling the mist into his mouth, he let out a slow breath and the misty magic washed over the woman's face. It would keep her awake and docile while he asked his questions.

"Someone wants me dead, and I don't mean the Joker. Who?" He pumped the woman full of compulsion magic, and her eyes glazed over,

"I don't know, you weren't part 'ah 'da plan. Mista J was just as surprised as me ta see ya here."

"Harley!" Joker screamed into the intercom, apparently, he could hear what was being said even if he couldn't see it,

"You blithering idiot, what the hell are you doing?"

Percy ignored the raging clown,

"What's the Joker's connection with the League of Shadows?" He snarled,

"I got no idea who dat is," Harley replied, her voice a soft monotone.

Percy growled in frustration, this was not what he'd been hoping for, though maybe it wasn't all that surprising. He doubted that someone like the Joker would be all that willing to tell Quinn anything relevant. He didn't trust anybody but himself.

Maybe not even that.

Percy realized as he tightened his grip on the woman that another person had just entered the building, but Percy ignored the intruder. If they got any closer, he'd deal with them.

"Harley!" The Joker screamed again, "If you don't stop this at once, I'll-"

"A woman came to the Asylum under the pretense of inspecting the security. Who was she, what did she want?"

"I don't know,"

Percy's patience was at the end of it's rope, and he had to force himself to practice the breathing exercises that Lupa had forced into his head when he was a boy. The last thing he needed was to bring down a hurricane on top of the Asylum.

"What's the Joker's plan for the Asylum?" Percy demanded, changing gears,

"Harley…" The Joker interrupted once more, his voice becoming soft, almost tender.

"If you answer that question…I'll be forced to hurt you, and you wouldn't want that now would you dear? So shut the hell up already!"

"Something about a formula with Doctor Young," She explained, "She found a way to synthesize Bane's Venom formula. Mista J wants to make an army. We're gonna rule Gotham togetha."

"Where is he?" A new voice asked, and Percy almost jumped at the sound of it, turning his neck, Percy felt his expression sour as he watched Batman stalk forward out of the shadows.

"Where's who?"

"Gordon, Quinn, where is he?" Percy's head snapped over to the Bat, his eyes wide.

"The fuck is the Commissioner doing here?" He hissed, but the Bat ignored him,

"Medical Center." Quinn replied, "Sub-Level."

"Drop her," He ordered Percy, and he considered not, simply out of spite, but he'd asked all the questions he'd wanted to ask for the time being. Not that it had been particularly helpful. He dropped her to the floor with a clatter, her eyes rolling back into her head. Batman reached into his utility belt and pulled free a pair of restraints. Slapping them onto the woman's wrists, he hauled her onto his shoulder and walked over to a nearby cell. Yanking the bars open, he tossed her into the cell unceremoniously. Slamming the door shut, he pulled a strange looking device out of his belt, and a moment later the electronic lock activated.

"I don't know what you did to Harley," The Joker snarled into the intercom,

"But it doesn't matter. She doesn't matter. You boys want to play rough and try and thwart my plans, fine, so be it. I'm an honorable man, I'll even let you go and rescue your beloved Commissioner. But who's to say that there won't be a nasty little surprise waiting for you. Hehehehehehe."

The echoing laugh reverberated around the halls for some time, before the intercom finally went silent.

"I fucking hate that man," Percy muttered,

"What are you doing here detective?" Batman demanded, turning to face him. It was the first time that Percy had gotten a good look at the man. If his night had been bad, he hated to think what the vigilante had been through. His cape was torn, and there was a large hole in combat armor, revealing the mesh-like weave of Kevlar beneath. His face was bruised and dirty, and a thin line of blood was trickling from somewhere above his cowl, and trickling down his cheek.

"Got ordered here," Percy answered, he was too tired to lie and it wasn't worth it.

"Winston called, just after the call about the Joker went out. Said there was someone here waiting for me…" He paused, before adding, "Does the name Gar al S'hul mean anything to you? I was told he was waiting here for me but there was nobody by that name anywhere in the database."

Batman's eyes narrowed, "He wouldn't exist, it's an alias. One commonly used by the head of the most influential assassin organization on the planet, the League of Shadows."

Percy had to genuinely hide his surprise at the revelation. He already knew that of course, but he'd been wanting to see how the Bat would respond to him, he certainly hadn't been expecting the man to be so up front.

"Cute name," He observed casually,

"I'm guessing you've never heard of them?"

"Not until right now," Percy snorted, "Who the fuck did I piss off badly enough that they'd be after me? Let alone go to so much trouble to bring me here?"

"A good question," Batman pondered, "The League of Shadows doesn't normally bother with simple detectives,"

"Words hurt," Percy snorted, but the bat ignored him,

"What are the chances they know what you are?" He asked,

"Normally I'd say slim to none, but I'm beginning to think otherwise. The only other explanation is that Falcone got to them, but if that was the case, then why not just shoot me? Plant a bomb under my car? I feel like there would a hell of a lot easier ways to deal with me rather than going to all this trouble."

The Batman grunted in agreement, "We'll look into it later," he said, "You heard Quinn, Gordon's been captured."

"Being held at the Medical Center, yeah I heard." He said, as he unslung the rifle from his back. Checking the magazine, he slammed it back into the rifle and chambered a round,

"Let's go get the bossman."

Chapter 28: The Tower Starts to Topple

Dinah had needed time to herself in order to try and collect her thoughts. There was too much to consider and she didn't need the presence of rambunctious teenagers interrupting her thought process.

She had a safe-house one Zeta tube transfer away back in Gotham, which gave her the peace of mind that she needed. She set herself down at the desk and monitor at the end of the small safe-house, and leaned bag in the chair as she thought on her conundrum.

Dinah didn't know what to do with her newfound information. So, Percy was wanted by the League of Shadows, and apparently the best assassin in the entire damn organization was in on the job too.

It was disconcerting that, of course, Percy had somehow managed to get himself wrapped up in this kind of nonsense. She decided that she needed to start with what information she did know. She knew that Percy was wanted by the League of Shadows, why, she still didn't know. They clearly wanted him dead, but what could he possibly have done to get himself on their radar? She highly doubted that it had anything to do with his status as a demigod. The League of Shadows didn't work like that. For all their glitz and glamor, they really were little more than glorified contract killers. Taking out targets for the highest bid.

Conventional wisdom told her that someone had put a hit out on Percy. But that didn't make sense either. As far as the rest of the world knew, Percy was nothing more than a promising young detective for the Gotham Police Department. While there were undoubtably those that wouldn't like him, she didn't think any of them would have the status or resources necessary to utilize the League.

Contracts weren't cheap, and the Shadows were as expensive as it got. She thought again about Falcone. Percy had definitely made his way onto the mobster's shit list, but did Falcone even know about the Shadows? She didn't think so. In terms of underworld hierarchy, the Falcone crime family were little more than sea plankton in the ocean of the villains.

She was spending too much time around Percy.

It just wasn't plausible that Falcone would know enough about the Shadows to be able to contact them and get them to commit to this kind of a job. Furthermore, while Falcone was influential in his own right, he wasn't in the same league as the likes of Bruce, Oliver, or even Lex Luthor. She was fairly confident that he lacked the resources and influence necessary to call in the Shadows.

But where did that leave her?

Absolutely nowhere.

She decided that she would rule out conventional criminals, and instead focused on the other elephant in the room. The only thing that she could think of was the death of Klarion. Sure, it was possible that Percy had done something in his time in the military where he would have crossed paths with the Shadows or someone influential enough to use them, but she had already cross-referenced Percy's military history with the League's database. There was nothing in his record, even the stuff that the Navy's censors had redacted, that would lead her to believe someone would want him dead.

The only outlier was Queen Bee, but considering what she'd done to the rest of Percy's team that had infiltrated Bialya, it was more than likely that she thought he was also dead.

Which only left Klarion.

But that still didn't make sense to her.

The League had looked into the magical disaster from several weeks ago. While there had been several known magical criminals involved in the attack, the League had accounted for every member of the attack. As far as she had last checked, which had been only a few hours ago, all of the villains were currently in lock-up in Belle Reve.

But there were still questions that hadn't been answered about the attack. Chief among which was why so many powerful criminals had worked together as they had. Aside from the Injustice League, villains didn't work together, maybe the odd twosome, but never more than that. But even that had been odd. Interrogations with the villains hadn't cleared anything up either. The ones that had said anything, had merely reiterated that they had felt that the time was right to begin working together in order to forward a common goal. But what had that goal been? To hold the world at ransom for billions of dollars? Count Vertigo on his own had enough personal wealth amassed that it seemed…unnecessary.

The League had been utterly befuddled by the attack. Then the attack by the magical villains had made things even more confusing. Had the villains of the world finally smartened up and started banding together? It was possible, but the timing seemed just so off to Dinah. Once was happenstance, twice was coincidence, maybe. Did she really believe in a third time? Or had it already occurred? Clearly the Shadows were involved in some capacity with the attack on Arkham tonight.

She groaned in frustration, and stood up. She needed coffee, she was pushing on being awake for nearly thirty-six hours and it was beginning to weigh on her. Walking over to the instant coffee machine, she poured herself a cup, dumping in plenty of creamer into the beverage and taking a long pull on the bitter beverage.

She needed to get her thoughts in order, having everything jumbled up in her head was beginning to confuse her, and she could feel the beginnings of a migraine behind her eyes. Approaching the whiteboard beside her computer terminal, she set the coffee down on a coaster on the desk and began working on writing down everything she knew, and everything she thought she needed to know. It took about fifteen minutes, but eventually she had a comprehensive list of everything she had been thinking about and considering all evening.

She picked her coffee back up and took a step back, examining her work. And as she did so, a thought occurred to her. A terrible, horrifying thought. Placing the coffee cup back down on the table, she re-approached the white-board and began writing down more information. Names, dates, events, and known villains that had been involved with certain activities or attacks.

She was outlining every mission that the team of young proteges had undertaken since and including the mission to, break Superboy out of Cadmus. The incident on Santa Prisca, the attempted break-out at Belle Reve, the plant attack and the Injustice League. None of what appeared before her was adding up. There was something more going on, something else happening behind the scenes that they just weren't seeing.

Was it possible…no, surely not. They would have noticed right? They would have been able to tell if something else was going on, if there were other players pulling the strings.

Wouldn't they?

But it didn't sit right with her. It didn't add up. Adding Percy into the mix only served to hammer the point home even further.

It made sense.

It made too much sense.

Why else would the League of Shadows be so damned insistent on killing Percy? Why would they want him dead only weeks after he'd killed Klarion? And why would they go about trying to kill him in such an off-the-beat way like using the Joker's breakout? If they really wanted him dead, then why not simply send one of their many highly-trained assassin's to kill him? Unless they wanted things to be discreet. Unless they didn't want to tip their hand to the fact that they were operating in Gotham. Killing a prominent member of the police force, weeks after he killed off one of the most powerful beings on the planet…weeks after he'd been fully revealed to the rest of the Justice League…It would draw entirely too much attention.

But that led to a simple question, why would the Shadows want to kill Percy for killing Klarion? The only explanation that came to mind was that it was payback of some sort. Payback for killing Klarion, but why would they want to kill Percy for killing Klarion unless there was a connection between Klarion and the Shadows.

Dinah felt the mug slip between her fingers.

Life had just gotten infinitely more complicated.

---

Percy cleared the magazine on his rifle and loaded a fresh one. The Joker had decided not to make their job any easier as they approached the medical facility, and he and the Bat had been fending off a seemingly unending wave of inmates. He had been initially surprised that the Bat had been willing to let Percy tag along, but he must have known that Percy was going to be stubborn about things, and the Bat was nothing if not a control freak. With someone like Percy running around on the island, it didn't surprise Percy that the Bat wanted to keep him under a careful eye at all times.

More surprising, at least for Percy, was his lack of a complaint that Percy was opting to shoot his way through the Asylum. Perhaps it was because Percy had made it emphatically clear that he didn't want to use his father's gifts, and he was insisting on trying to make his way through life as normally as possible. Maybe it was because the vigilante was aware of the terrible situation that the pair had found themselves in, either way, it didn't matter.

Percy ducked back around the pillar he'd been shooting around as rounds streaked through the air in his direction. The familiar "snap-hiss" of bullets flying through the air was oddly calming to Percy. In the midst of the odd night and suspicious circumstances of his being there, combat was something he understood. The heat of a firefight, with bullets flying and the only thing keeping his attention being the bastards on the other end of his rifle.

Crouching low to the floor, Percy poked the end of his rifle around the corner, and depressed the trigger, a small bust exploded from the muzzle and tore through the inmate's shoulder, throwing him to the ground in a cry of pain and a spurt of blood. Out of the corner of his eye Percy could see the Bat descending from some hiding place on high and ripping the rifle out of another inmate's hands, and battering the man into the ground with a painful combination of quick blows.

Darting out from behind cover, Percy raced forward. He came to a sliding stop at the end of a small chest-high wall just in time to miss being blown to pieces as buckshot scorched through the air where he'd just been. Poking his head over the top of the wall, he was just a hair quicker than his opponent, and another burst took down the inmate with a shotgun, and moments later Batman burst out of the shadows, and took care of the final inmate with a vicious looking chokehold.

Knowing that the room was secure, Percy stood back up, doing a quick mental count of his remaining ammunition, and how much he had left in the one remaining magazine. He was starting to run low and would have to rely on his side-arm soon, that or begin scavenging for ammunition from the inmates.

"This is getting ridiculous," He grunted as he fell into step beside the vigilante,

"With the Joker, it always is." The Bat responded gruffly.

That Percy could agree with, and his mind subconsciously reverted back to what Alfred had asked of him. The further he got into the facility, the more dead comrades they came across, the more he was beginning to think that the man had a point. He already agreed with the man that Joker deserved to die, but he was also starting to agree that maybe tonight would provide the perfect opportunity to take care of the bastard for good.

The only problem with that plan, was that Percy now had what he assumed was a permanent babysitter in the form of Batman. While Batman might have been willing to let Percy shoot his way through the Asylum, he somehow doubted that the man would be quite so willing to let Percy off his arch-nemesis. Alfred was quite right, the pair seemed to have an almost strange connection. A bond. Sick and twisted though it was, Percy rather felt that there was no way he'd be able to kill the sick clown as long as the Bat was by his side.

It would have been a simple task to get away from the man, mist-travel was a boon like that, but Percy loathed to use it. More to the point, he didn't know what the man would do should Percy use his abilities, and more importantly, should he use his abilities in conjunction with killing the Joker.

It was one thing to kill the bastard in the heat of a fight, it was quite another to use divine abilities to pull the clown's spine out through his throat.

Percy would not put it past the Bat to reveal Percy's true nature to the world, or at least make him seem like a meta-human out of spite. Such a revelation would, at a minimum, cost him his job. Worst-case scenario it could even cost him his freedom. The world simply didn't trust meta-humans, and it was all but a certainty that, even though he really wasn't a meta-human, he would be detained and shipped off to Belle Reve in a matter of hours.

He decided he would wait it out, see if his opportunity presented itself, and if it did, he would take it. Maybe it was selfish on his part, maybe it was for the best that he used his abilities for the betterment of mankind and kill one of the most dangerous people on the planet, but Percy thought he was allowed a moment of selfishness. He'd given everything for his planet more than once. Had been forced to give everything and then some, he deserved to have his normal life. Deserved the happy and normal life that he so desperately craved.

So while it was selfish, hypocritical even, he was able to live with that decision.

He hoped.

"He's through there," Batman said, nodding through a pair of double doors. Percy noted with some curiosity that the eye-pieces of his cowl seemed to be glowing somehow, likely there was some form of thermal imagining built into the cowl. Given the ludicrous shit the man had at his disposal, it didn't seem too far-fetched.

Percy grunted an affirmation, and stacked up on the far wall, expanding his senses to check and make sure for himself that there wasn't a trap of some kind waiting for them inside.

"Wait here," Batman ordered, "I'm going to check for traps."

Percy nodded, he wasn't overly fond of taking orders from the Bat, the given the circumstance he was willing to put his own pettiness aside for the sake of his boss. Especially when the Bat more than likely was much better equipped for looking for potential traps than Percy was. A few moments later, the Bat descended down from the top of the small building housing the Commissioner and, without even a second glance in Percy's direction, opened the door and stepped inside. Rolling his eyes, Percy followed the man inside.

The Commissioner had very clearly seen some better days. Quinn must have been playing with him a bit, because his face was beaten, bloodied, and bruised. Blood trickled down from what was more than likely a broken nose, and his right eye was swelling so badly that Percy wouldn't have been surprised if he couldn't see out of it whatsoever.

"Damn," Gordon huffed, "Never been happier to see you in my entire life, and-" He finally noticed Percy, even as he approached and began cutting through the man's restraints,

"Jackson? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Trying to figure that out for myself sir," Percy said, undoing the handcuffs restraining the Commissioner using the all-purpose restraints key and freeing the Commissioner from his restraints.

"Winston ordered me here right after we got word about the Joker."

"Winston?" Gordon asked, confused. Then a dark expression flashed over his expression, "Rat bastard," He snarled, spitting a gob of blood and saliva onto the floor.

"Your words sir," Percy chuckled, as he took a step back and came to a relaxed attention.

"Any idea what that madman is planning?" Gordon asked, directing the question to Batman, an action that Percy was only mildly bitter about.

"Something to do with Bane's venom formula." Batman explained, and Percy interrupted him. While it might have been petty, this was his boss, and he wanted it clear that the Bat wasn't the only one who was getting work done tonight.

"One of the doctor's here, Young, she's been experimenting with bane's Venom formula. Joker seems to think he can use her new formula to make himself an army, of what, we don't know yet."

"If it has to do with Venom, we can assume that it's nothing good." Gordon pondered, "By the way, we aren't alone in here." He walked over to the window in the room, and pointed down at the strange structure in the room below them. It looked an awful lot like a Greenhouse to Percy, and as he focused his senses, he could feel someone inside. Looking over to Batman, he gave the man a subtle nod, which the vigilante returned.

"What a blabbermouth!" Interrupted a now obnoxiously familiar voice, and the three men turned as one and looked at the monitor on the wall. It was Percy's first time seeing the Clown Prince, and he was…certainly something else. He could understand why the people of Gotham had grown so wary of clowns, if the haunting visage before him was anything to go by.

"How dare you, Commissioner! How dare you spoil my sweet little surprise." The Joker sat back in his chair, more like a throne if Percy were honest, and pouted petulantly, "I had wanted to give Batsy something fun and exciting to play with, but you had to go and ruin all my fun. What a killjoy." He sighed dramatically, then threw his hands into the air,

"Oh what the hell, why don't you go down there and see what I've been cooking up!" He chuckled ominously,

"I promise you won't be disappointed."

The maniac's haunting laughter seemed to follow him, even after he disappeared from the monitor.

Sharing a look with his boss, Percy gestured towards the door and the three men made their way from the room.

The Greenhouse was warm, and a thick fog obscured most of his vision, still Percy could feel the body at the end of the room. Though it was odd, even though he knew for certain that there was someone else in the room, he could have sworn that the person was flying or floating in the air.

Marching past him and Batman, Gordon immediately approached the computer terminal along the nearest wall. Cursing violently, he slammed a hand on the table.

"It needs Dr. Young's password," he said, but Percy and Batman weren't paying attention.

"Commissioner…get behind me." Percy ordered, as he hefted his rifle into his hands and took aim.

The fog was starting to dissipate somewhat, and the men could make out the other occupant in the room, and what Percy saw was possibly more disturbing than anything else he'd seen that night. Hanging at the end of the room, suspended by an intricate set of tubing and wires, was a man.

At least Percy was pretty sure it was a man.

It was difficult to discern, given the emaciated state of the poor creature. The skin on the man's body was flappy, and wrinkled. As though he'd lost a substantial amount of weight in too rapid a period of time and his body hadn't been able to compensate. He was so sickly thin that Percy could count the individual ribs on the poor man's body.

But it was the strange mask on the man's face that was the most identifying marker. It looked disturbingly similar to a luchador mask.

"Bane…" Batman breathed out, and it was the first time Percy had ever heard any emotion besides gruff agitation from the man.

"Cut…me…down…" Bane breathed, his voice was heavily accented, and it was easy to tell that he was in a considerable amount of pain.

"He broke out of Belle Reve months ago…what the hell is he doing here?" Gordon asked, to which no one seemed to have an answer.

"Who did this to you," Batman asked, and Percy saw his hand twitch near his utility belt.

"The bruja…Dr. Young…drained my blood…took my venom…I must stop her…"

"Sorry Has-Bane! But the good doctor won't be a problem for too much longer." The video monitor at their side sprang to life, and once more Joker's horrifying visage disturbed the room's attention.

"How do you boys like my new puppet?" He giggled in excitement as he drew a detonator out of his breast pocket, "What do you say we cut him down?" He cackled maniacally as he pressed the button on the remote. They could only watch as Bane let out a horrified scream, as the multiple tubes began to glow orange. A strange green liquid began flowing from somewhere above them, and pumped steadily into the poor man's body.

Bane's body began contorting; pulsing and undulating as it began to grow and mutate. The man's emaciated body became thick with large and corded muscle, and his eyes turned a deep and iridescent shade of green.

"Oh that ain't good." Percy muttered, as he brought his weapon to bare. He depressed the trigger, but it was too little too late. Bane let out an ear-shattering roar, and tore himself free from his restraints. Even as Percy's bullets ripped through the bestial man's chest, he didn't slow in the slightest. Whether or not he even felt the projectiles didn't seem to matter, as he raced towards them at a speed that was inhuman. Percy barely had enough time to shove the Commissioner clear before he was thrown off his feet as he was hit by a force similar to a speeding locomotive. He felt himself get thrown through the air and smash through a table on the other side of the building. Groaning, he got shakily to his feet in time to watch as Batman struggled to fend off the behemoth.

Darting forward, the beasts back was turned to Percy, and he leapt up onto the man's overly large back. Wrapping his hands around the thick neck, Percy buried a fist into the man's temple, but it was like punching concrete. He's even used a decent portion of his full strength behind the blow, but whatever they had done to make his venom more potent was making Bane's skin as hard as steel.

Cocking back again, and leveled a blow with as much of his true force as he could possibly throw, which seemed to actually do something. Bane stumbled, badly missing as he lunged for Batman who leapt clear of the man's large arms. However the action had the unintended consequence of destabilizing Percy, who toppled from the man's back into a heap on the ground.

Acting out of pure instinct, he scrambled out of the way just in time to avoid the large fist the shattered the tile floor where Percy had been mere moments before. But Bane was not to be deterred. With an all-mighty roar, he barreled across the hall at Percy, too quick for Percy to even try and react. Once more Percy was hit with force of a locomotive, and he could practically hear his ribcage scream in protest as the man's large arms wrapped around him. But the beast didn't stop, he continued running, and try as he might, Percy couldn't break the man's grip on him. Percy just had the time to meet the eyes of a horrified Commissioner Gordon, before he was slammed roughly into something strong and sturdy.

Concrete and plaster exploded around him, as Bane barreled through the wall of the building. Debris fell from the ceiling, and Percy could feel the ground shake through Bane's body. There was a terrifying crash, as the brick, mortal, and concrete of the wall began to tumble down and inward.

He thought that he heard Commissioner Gordon call out to him, but it was cut off by the collapse of the wall behind Bane. The tremors of the crash threw the large man off-balance, and Percy was thrown free of the behemoth. Rolling across the floor, Percy popped smoothly back to his feet some distance away from Bane, and took a brief glimpse at their surroundings.

They were in what looked like the boiler room, if the grated floor, and boiling hot temperatures were anything to go by. His eyes darted back to the hole that Bane had made in the wall, only to swear in frustration. The crash he'd heard had indeed been from the wall collapsing. Bane must have run straight through a support pillar, as the entire wall had caved in, effectively locking him into the room with Bane.

"Detective! Detective! Are you there? Are you all right?"

Percy hadn't thought that he'd be relieved to hear Alfred's voice again, and yet the man's dry British voice was a calming reassurance in his ear.

"I'm here Alfred." Percy panted out, "Bane tossed me through a wall, there was a cave-in. Pretty sure we aren't getting out of here without tunneling and I don't think that the big guy is in the mood for a team-up."

"I should think not," Alfred replied dryly, "Luckily for you, there aren't any cameras or terminals in the boiler room. You should be able to use your…abilities without any worry."

"You guys really don't know anything about me, do you?" Percy growled out, as he dived out of the way. Bane had reached down to the ground ripped a chunk of the godsdamned floor free and threw it at him.

"Any advice for taking this asshole down?"

"Cut the lines on his neck and arms supplying him the venom."

"No shit!" Percy snarled, dodging out of the way as the man-beast let out another bestial howl and charged at him. Bane missed him and charged headfirst into the nearest wall.

"I thought Bane was supposed to be smart!" Percy shouted as he took the opportunity to charge Bane himself. "But he's acting like a wild animal!"

"It must be the experimental venom." Alfred hummed thoughtfully, as Percy rammed a fist into the jaw of Bane.

"It must revert the user to a near animal-like state. Most intriguing."

"Fascinating!" Percy snarled, clapping his hands together into one large fist, and following up his previous blow with another to the underside of Bane's head. Teeth and spittle spewed from his mouth, but Percy didn't let up. Gripping the back of the man's mask, he leveled a vicious elbow against the side of his temple. Bane gasped in pain, and Percy seized his chance. Planting a foot on the man's fallen knee, he vaulted himself up and over the large man's shoulder, clutching onto the many tubes on his back. Gripping two of the tubes tightly in his hand, Percy planted a foot in the man's back and pulled with all his might. There was a horrifying popping sound as the tubes came free, and Percy had to close his eyes as excess venom spewed from the tubing and covered him. Bane let out a howl of misery and Percy very nearly lost his footing on the large human. Wrapping a hand around the final tube, he was about to pull it out when Bane jerked suddenly. A large, meaty hand swiped back at Percy. Given his precarious position on the man's back, Percy wasn't in a good position to defend himself, and Bane managed to grab hold of the front of Percy's vest and toss him across the room.

Growling in agitation, Percy got back to his feet.

"Well, it sounds like you're certainly handling things well down there." Alfred mused casually.

"You are just, the least helpful motherfucker on the planet," Percy growled.

"Happy to be of service."

Bane roared, gearing up for another charge. Tired of being thrown around like a rag-doll, Percy decided that it was time to meet strength with strength. At the same moment, both of them charged forward. Willing every ounce of strength into his being, Percy caught both of Bane's arms as he tried to swing down and crush Percy. Grunting under the force of the blow, Percy felt his feet slide across the floor. His arms strained, and he could feel the muscles in his arms and shoulders scream in protest, but as he had so many time before, he ignored the pain.

With a mighty heave, Percy disengaged from Bane, throwing the man's hands high into the air. Once inside the man's guard, Percy leveled a pair of his heaviest blows into his solar plexus. Bane gasped out in pain, collapsing to one knee as he clutched at his stomach in pain.

But Percy wasn't about to let up the advantage. With a mighty clap, he smacked the palms of his hands against Bane's ears, hoping to both disorient and potentially burst the man' eardrums. Bane's eyes screwed shut as another bestial roar escaped his lips, his own hands clapping around his ears as though he would be able to massage the pain away.

With his opponent stunned and disoriented, Percy vaulted onto his back once more. Wrapping his hands around the tubing, Percy heaved with all his might, and with another squelching 'POP' the tubing came free.

Dropping to the floor, Percy took a step back, breathing and panting heavily. He was hopeful that with the source of venom gone, it would leave the man down and defenseless.

Luckily, he was right.

Bane swayed to and fro, green venom spilling down his back and down his arms. His body twitched for a moment, before he collapsed face-first into the ground. Completely motionless.

"Thank fuck," Percy muttered, spitting a glob of blood and saliva on the ground, and wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Well that didn't go the way I wanted!" Joker's voice filled the room, and Percy groaned, how the hell did he even know what was going on? There weren't even any cameras in the room! His eyes landed on the small neck-brace on Bane's neck, and Percy's eyes narrowed. It was a restraint collar; one used to monitor and potentially subdue inmates. That must have been how Joker was monitoring the progress.

"I had this great plan to let Bane and Batsy have a little go at each other! To give me and my boys a show! And you ruined it! You spoilsport!" He sighed dramatically, "Ah well, can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs I suppose. Well…in this case, I suppose you can't create an army of mutated freak shows with killing a few detectives, bahahahahahaha!"

"Gods would you just shut up already," Percy growled,

"Awe, don't be such a sourpuss, you should feel honored! I don't normally have this much trouble killing a cop, it's beginning to get on my nerves…"

"Sounds like you problem," Percy grunted, as he hauled himself away from Bane and began inspecting the walls. He figured it would be possible to punch his way through the walls, but he would need to be careful, he didn't want to bring down another support pillar and risk a cave-in entirely.

"I really wouldn't agitate him detective," Alfred warned in his ear, but Percy ignored him.

"Well that's putting it mildly," snarked thee Joker, "But it won't be a problem for much longer. You see detective, I'm a man with a plan…and a plan….and plans for those plans…and you get to see the beautiful fruits of my labors. It was nice to have you boyo, but now it's time for you to have a blast! Sayonara!"

Percy's head whipped around, as suddenly several lights popped up on the many support pillars in the room.

"Detective!" Alfred said hurriedly in his ear, "Those are bombs, get to cover immediately!"

Knowing he didn't have enough time to break his way out of the room, he was forced to react purely on instinct. Pulling on the water from inside his own body, he summoned a spherical shield of water around himself, and not a moment too soon. The room exploded, as the bombs planted inside the support pillars blew. Brick, metal-work, piping, and debris slammed against Percy's shield. The structure of the building creaked and groaned, and Percy could feel the floor shifting under his feet.

There was another groan from the building, before the awful sound of brick splitting. Something heavy and hard slammed into the top of Percy's shield, throwing him onto his back and nearly breaking his concentration. Blinking through the sweat in his eyes, he could see that the roof of the building had crumbled, and was caving in entirely. The support pillars fell with a mighty crash around the room and Percy gasped in pain. Using the water in his own body was hard enough on him, and was a painful enough experience, but with every chunk of rock or mortar that fell on top of his shield, it was as though a hammer was being battered against his temples.

His vision began to blur as more and more of the building collapsed on top of him. He was being buried alive. But he didn't have the time to think about the reality of his situation. He was just trying to survive. But as the building fell on top of him, his vision finally began to go dark, and as the last lights of the starry sky began to disappear behind the rubble, he could faintly hear Alfred calling out his name.

Then everything went black.

---

"Jackson!" Gordon cried out in horror. An understandable reaction, Batman decided, given the fact that he didn't know what the man was truly capable of. Looking at the pile of rubble that Bane and Jackson had disappeared behind, he was far less worried. Even with this worrying new strand of Venom, Jackson was more than capable of dealing with the likes of Bane, he just hoped that he didn't sink the entire island into the sea to do it.

"There's nothing we can do for him now," He said gruffly, "We need to get you out of here."

Gordon's look of horror turned to one absolute disgust,

"That's easy for you to say. But he's one of my detectives, and he's trapped inside with that monster."

"Jackson is resourceful, have some faith," Batman placated,

"He's still just a man!" Gordon growled,

"So am I," He replied, turning his back on the Commissioner and making his way out of the ruined structure. He needed to get to Dr. Young. She was the key to all of this. If he could get his hands on the formula that she created, he could send it to Alfred and the League, and hopefully get an antidote in the works should things get even worse.

"That's bullshit and you know it," Gordon groused, as he fell into step beside him, glancing over his shoulder in worry as the entire building seemed to shake at once.

"Then how about this, you're needed on the mainland." Batman countered, "Joker claims he's placed bombs all over the mainland, and he's said that if he sees even one member of the League he's going to blow them simultaneously."

"I hate this job," Gordon sighed, running a ragged hand through his hair as they stepped through the exit. "And I hate you for being right." He looked over his shoulder again, looking at the entrance to the Medical Center, "Just promise me you'll go back and look for him…if worst comes to worst…he deserves to be buried."

"He'll be fine," Batman swept the worry aside, leading the Commissioner to the dock, he'd had Alfred radio ahead to the department that he had Gordon, and there was a boat already waiting for him. He recognized the man at the helm of the small craft, and knew him to be one of the few trustworthy men in the department, Gordon would be able to get back to the mainland safely at least.

The building behind them, at that moment, suddenly shook as an explosion rocked the still silence of the night air, and both Gordon and Batman whipped around to watch. The building creaked and groaned, before it began to crumble. Bit by bit, part of the support structures began to fall, before the entire medical facility fell in on itself.

They stared in sunned silence for a moment. Whatever he'd been expecting, he hadn't been expecting that. Jackson was capable of a lot, worryingly so, but he couldn't cause an explosion of that scale could he? He wasn't certain, it was possible that the boiler had ruptured, but that wouldn't have caused an explosion of that kind of a magnitude. That kind of an explosion required high-end ordinance at least.

Looking back at Gordon, he caught the haunted and defeated look on the man's face. He turned away from him, stepping into the boat and hauling a life jacket onto his torso.

"Still think he can handle it?" He asked bitterly.

He didn't give Batman a chance to respond, as he waved a hand at the man at the helm. The boat spurred to life, and within moments the boat was carrying Gordon away from the island, and back to the mainland.

He waited until the boat was nearly out of sight, before clicking the radio link on his gauntlet, keying him into the private and encrypted channel he used with Alfred.

"What happened?" He demanded,

"I have no idea," Alfred said, from the sounds of rapid typing coming from Alfred's end of the line, he was scrambling to find something.

"Did Jackson-"

"No," Alfred said quickly. "I've been monitoring the NWS and the USGS, there have been no reports of strange weather patterns or of underground seismic activity in the last several days."

"Explosives then," He mused,

"I believe so, sir. Would you like me to reposition the satellite for global imaging of the wreckage."

He hesitated for a moment, thinking through his options, before nodding to himself,

"Do it. Let me know what you find."

"Will do sir, and what will you be doing?"

"Dr. Young's formula is still missing. I'm going after it."

"Very good sir, and best of luck."

Notes:

Whew, this was a fun one. Percy throws down with Bane and beats the ever-loving piss out of him, too bad Joker is a sore loser huh? Only one chapter left before this arc comes to a close…hope you're ready because it's gonna be a HELL of a lot of fun. As always shoutout to Double0Sxvxn for being an awesome Beta and dealing with my bullshit and as always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week.

All My Love and see you next week,

LilDB

Chapter 29: And it All Falls Down

He didn't know where he was, all he knew was that it was dark. Were his eyes closed, or was it just that dark out? What happened? What the hell was going on? He tried to move his arms but they weren't responding to him. He tried the same with his legs, but was met with the same response. Was-was he paralyzed? No…no that wasn't right, he could feel something poking him in the arms and legs. Like they were being pressed down by a tremendous weight.

He wracked his brain, and tried to think back to where he'd been and what he'd been doing. In a flurry, the memories of the previous several hours came rushing back to him.

Winston.

The breakout.

Harley Quinn.

The Bat.

Bane.

He coughed, something, the roof more than likely, was pressing down on his chest extraordinarily painfully. His shield had protected him for the most part, and he must have just managed to hold out long enough to avoid being crushed entirely by the collapsing building.

He let out a soft groan, and decided that he desperately needed to figure out his way out the mess. He must have been buried beneath a fair bit of rubble, because he was surrounded by inky blackness, and couldn't make out even his nose in the darkness. He gave his fingers and arms an experimental wiggle, but found that he couldn't move them, though his fingernails did scrape across the cold and granular surface of concrete.

Growling in frustration, he tried to flex his muscles and force the debris off of him, but a sharp pain tore through his arms and his pecs and he had to bite back a scream of agony. It felt like he'd torn something, or rather like he'd torn several somethings. Biting down on his lip, he considered his options for a brief moment, before sighing in annoyance.

Loathe as he was to do it, he was truly seeing no other option than to vapor travel. A flash of anger and annoyance coursed through him, but there was simply no helping it. Closing his eyes for a moment, he concentrated and focused on the nearest body of water he could find. Lucky, they were quite literally on an island, so finding nearby water was far from tricky. With an agitated sigh, he called upon his father's powers. As though it was all too eager to answer its master's command, his father's element cocooned around him in a comforting embrace, before the weight of the building disappeared from on his limbs. A moment later, the pain in his body began to disappear as he found himself in the comforting embrace of the sea.

He didn't know how long he stayed in the icy waters, allowing the cool water to heal his battered body. Entirely too soon however, his tranquility was interrupted.

"Detective Jackson, Detective Jackson are you there? I saw that you disappeared from the debris of the building. Are you there?"

"Hey Alfred," Percy said, his voice coming out hoarse and rough. "You were monitoring me? How?"

"Satellite imaging," he said, sounding rather relieved,

"Of course you have a satellite," Percy grunted, closing his eyes and trying to will away the pain in his joints. "How long was I out?"

"Three hours,"

"Damn," He grunted, "What I miss?"

"Not too much," Alfred said coyly, "Batman destroyed the Titan Venom production facility in the botanical gardens, the Joker let Poison Ivy out of her cell, and her plants became infected with the Venom and nearly destroyed the island. Dr. Young was murdered, and Warden Sharp is being confined in Intensive Care."

Percy let out a slow breath. "Jesus. Fucking. Christ."

"Indeed,"

"What's happening now?"

"Now, the Batman is currently navigating the sewage system in the hopes of finding the necessary components to create a cure for the Venom."

"And the Joker?"

"As far as I've been able to tell, he's tucked away in the Visitor Center. At least that's where the majority of his transmissions have been coming from."

"Well then," Percy sighed as he opened his eyes and began slowing swimming back in the direction of the island, "I think it's high time I paid the madman a visit."

"You've thought about my request then?"

"Unfortunately," He grunted in annoyance as he breached the surface of the water and scanned his surroundings. He was on the north side of the island, which if his mental map of the island was right, meant that he was still some distance away from the Visitor Center.

"As much as it annoys me, you got a point. Joker's a fucking menace to society, and he needs to be put down like the mad dog that he is. If the Bat can't do it, then I will."

Alfred didn't respond for a moment, and when he finally spoke up, he sounded mildly choked up,

"You are making the right choice sir."

"I'm not doing it for the Bat," he was quick to say, "This isn't because of him."

"I understand," Alfred said, "I will let you know of any obstacles along the way, detective."

"Anything I need to be made aware of?"

"Joker has finished his modifications on the formula, and has begun his human testing. Several inmates and officers have been affected by the formula. The formula mutates the poor souls into something similar to Bane."

"Wonderful,"

He pulled himself free of the sea and clambered up onto the shoreline,

"How durable are they?"

"They have not appeared to be as durable as Bane was. Likely their musculature and internal systems have not become accustomed to the substance like Bane's has. They are strong, but a few good hits should take them out of the fight."

"Bulletproof?"

"Hard to tell, but more than likely not. However they do seem to have a far higher tolerance for pain than average, so it is likely that your preferred choice of weapons would not be the wisest choice."

"Can't make it too easy, can you?" Percy groused.

There was a station house not far from where Percy had pulled himself free from the ocean. His rifle and side-arm had been lost in the fight with Bane, and he was hoping that he might be able to find something inside the building that he could use.

"What's the camera situation looking like?"

"Most cameras on the island have been disabled, and everything else I have managed to gain remote access to. You shouldn't have anything to worry about once you make it inside the facility."

"Well that's good to know," He muttered to himself as he opened the door to the station. He bypassed the obvious weapons locker, that had already been broken into. Percy was banking on the probability that there was a sidearm hidden in the room. It was something he would do after all, and he knew for a fact that many of the guards at the Asylum were former military as well. Chances were high that someone wouldn't be comfortable storing all the weapons in something as obvious as the locker.

As he checked the underside of a cabinet besides the computer terminal, his hunch proved to be correct. His fingers found the course fabric of a holster taped to the underside of the cabinet. Pulling the weapon free, he found that it was loaded with a single twelve-round magazine. Nodding in satisfaction, he pulled his pant leg up, and slipped the weapon into the empty holster wrapped around his ankle. It was typically where someone checked the least, for additional weaponry in his experience.

"Detective…" Alfred said hesitantly, "May I-may I ask a question?"

"Hasn't stopped you before," Percy snorted,

"I suppose not," he said, then hesitated, clearly waiting for Percy to give permission. Rolling his eyes, Percy gave his permission.

"Why is it that you don't use your powers? I have been…briefed on your specific power-set, and yet I have only seen records of you using your abilities in your fight with Klarion."

It hadn't been a question that Percy had been suspecting,

"Y'all haven't looked that much into demi-gods, have you?"

"Only what Batman has managed to learn from watching you and speaking with Wonder Woman,"

"Remind me to have a talk with him about that," Percy muttered, still rankled by the knowledge that he was being babysat by the League of all people.

"Growing up as a demigod means that you're hunted from the time you're born, until the day you die a horrible, painful death. We don't get to have a normal life; we don't get to pretend to be like the rest of the world."

It was strange talking about all of this again, but after speaking to Meg about everything, it seemed…easier than it had been before for him to talk about all of this.

"I don't know how much Diana has told you, but nearly a decade ago there were a few wars. We…we lost a lot of people, and after it was done, I was too. I wanted out. I'd done enough to earn myself a boon from the gods and they took away the thing that allows monsters to find me. I guess you could say that I just wanted out, I wanted to try and be normal. I just want to live a normal life and I can't have that if I'm using my dad's powers."

It wasn't the whole truth; it wasn't anywhere near close to the whole truth. But he thought he knew exactly why Batman was watching him so carefully, and he didn't want to give the man any reason to watch him any more closely than he already did.

"I…I see…Well thank you for telling me that Detective."

Percy didn't respond, and the comms went silent. The walk to the Visitor Center went relatively peacefully. Only once was he forced to duck into the shadows to avoid patrolling inmates. Truly, things had gotten bad inside the Asylum while he was out of it. He had stopped counting the number of dead guards and civilians after he reached twenty. It was making him sick.

He was now dead-set on murdering that homicidal clown.

Ducking into the shadows of a small alcove near the entrance to the Visitor Center, he scowled in annoyance. There were at least three inmates working on putting some kind of cover over the entrance. He couldn't exactly make out what it was from where he was, but he was pretty sure that it was a large clown face.

Jesus Christ this was too much.

His temples still pounding, and his body sore, his patience officially pestered over the edge.

"Fuck it," He murmured, as he stepped out of the shadows.

Their backs were turned to him, occupied as they were with their construction project. One of the inmates was on a ladder, hammering something into the wooden frame above the entrance. Gripping the ladder rungs with one hand, Percy effortlessly tossed the structure over to the side. The inmate on top only had the briefest moment to realize what was happening to him as he soared through the air. He let out a startled scream, which turned into a grunt of pain as he landed on the hard, rocky terrain. A terrible crunching sound reverberated through the stillness of the late night, as his arm shattered upon impact.

The other inmates were disoriented by the sudden scream, turning around in utter bewilderment, but Percy was already descending on them. Grabbing the nearest man around the face, Percy slammed the back of his head into the wall of the building. His body jerked, as blood trickled down from the wall and congealed into a small pool on the ground.

Percy didn't release his grip on the man, instead he hoisted him into the air, and shoved him bodily into bewildered and terrified remaining inmate. The man stumbled, the weight of the sudden body slamming into him, and he collapsed to the ground with a yelp of surprise. He tried to shove the body off of him, but Percy slammed a boot into the ribcage of the body laying on top of him, pinning the poor man to the ground. Cocking an arm back, his fist connected with the forehead of the last inmate. His eyes crossed, before rolling into the back of his head and fell into blissful unconsciousness.

The inmate Percy had thrown off the ladder ground had finally succumbed to the pain of his shattered arm and had finally fallen silent. Stepping over the mass of bodies, Percy opened the door to the visitor center and was immediately put ill at ease. The visitor center was a long hall of two-way mirrors and intercoms, they allowed visitors to speak with any of the patients at the Asylum. At the end of the hall was what looked at first glance to be a stuffed doll of the Joker with a large television on his end, but as Percy scanned his surroundings, he could feel that it wasn't actually a doll, but a living being.

Walking down the corridor, the television burst to life as he came even with the two-way mirror blocking the man. The now annoyingly familiar figure of Joker appeared on the television,

"Well look who decided to drop in!" He smiled, "The dashing do-gooder who's been damaging my dastardly designs!" His face contorted into a sneer, "You're supposed to be dead!"

"Sorry to disappoint dickhead." He snarled, and the Joker began to say something else, but Percy had had it with the clown and with a mighty swing, he shattered the glass between him and the clown. Glass shards cut and dug into his arm, slicing his skin and smearing blood across the window. But Percy ignored the pain and wrapped his hand into the stained suit coat on the man. He barked out a surprised scream, as Percy pulled him back and bodily tossed him across the hall. The television shattered as it impacted on the ground, and the Joker howled in anger and pain as he rolled to his feet.

"You nasty little cheater!" He screeched, "You're ruining everything! Months of planning down the drain and all because-gah!" His screeching turned into a startled choke as Percy wrapped a hand around his throat.

"No…more…" Percy snarled, as he increased the pressure on his throat.

"This…won't…be…my…last…laugh…" The Joker wheezed out.

His hand started to reach for something in his suit coat but Percy wrapped his other hand around the man's wrist,

"Not today!" Percy hissed,

"Jokes…on…you…" The Joker half-laughed and half-wheezed,

His other hand shot up and latched itself onto Percy's arm. Electricity, sharp and hot electricity shot through his body. He felt his muscles seize and his body contort as his hold on the Joker loosened. The clown scrambled out of Percy's grip, panting and scratching at his throat, and clambered out of the room.

Spitting, Percy tried to get his body back under control, as he stumbled forward. He gripped onto the railing along the wall and forced himself to stand up. Stumbling into a run, he clambered through the glass and staggered his way through the doorway on the other side.

What he walked into…was hard to describe. He didn't know what the usual purpose for the room was, but the Joker had converted it into a throne room of sorts. With an enormous throne at the end of the long hall. The Joker was in the process of climbing the large set of steps up to the throne.

"It's high time that you learn the pecking order!" The Joker hollered, pulling a remote free from the throne, "Time for a warmup before the grand finale boys!" He hit the button on the remote, and a pair of large cages fell to the floor.

"Oh that can't be good." Percy muttered, shaking off the last dregs of the shock from his system.

The doors to the cages burst off from the hinges, and a pair of some of the most horrifying monsters Percy had ever seen before stepped free. The monsters were nearly eight-feet tall, and built exactly like Bane. They had clearly once been human, guards at the inmates if the shattered remnants of the flak vests on their overly large torsos were anything to go by.

These must have been the creations that Alfred had warned him about, the mixture between human and Titan Venom.

The creatures let out bestial roars, before taking lumbering steps towards him. The ground itself seemed to shake with every large step. One of the creatures swung a mighty fist at him, and Percy ducked under the blow. Catching the fist from the second creature, he was nearly thrown to the floor from the force of the blow. Tugging the creature towards him, Percy buried a fist in the groin of the monster. It roared in pain and fell to a knee. Hearing the approach of the second monster behind him, Percy dove out of the way, avoiding the creature as it barreled towards him. It couldn't stop its momentum though, and it careened straight into the other Titan. They roared and fell to the ground, and Percy was certain that he could feel the foundation of the entire building shake from the impact.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity, he dashed forward and leapt onto the back of the nearest Titan creature. Wrapping a hand around its neck, Percy slammed a palm into the temple of the creature. He repeated the process several more times, the Titan creature crying out in agony with every blow. Percy poured every ounce of his strength into the blows, and the creature collapsed to the ground. Blood streaming from its ears as Percy's attacks liquified the monster's insides.

Leaping from the back of the Titan creature, he leapt at the remaining creature. Grappling the creature around the ears, he used his downward momentum to slam its face into the ground. Cocking back another fist, he threw blow after blow into the back of the creatures head. With each successive blow, the Titan's head smashed into the ground. Teeth, blood, and spittle spewed from its lips. The creature gave one last shuddering shake of breath, before falling still on the floor.

Taking a step back, Percy tried to collect his breath. His knuckles were chaffed and raw, and bleeding profusely. His arm throbbed from where he'd shoved it through the glass, and the blood from his arm mixed with the blood on his hands, dripping onto the ground in a small puddle.

He was about to turn his attention back to the Joker, when he suddenly jerked backwards, as something warm and sharp seemed to slice through his stomach. A moment later his ears registered the sound of a gun being fired. Looking down at his chest, he was confused as he saw blood spilling from a small hole in his left breast.

Looking up, he met the eyes of the Joker, a manic look on his face, and a pistol held shakily in his gloved fingers.

"You're ruining everything," He spat, his already manic face becoming somehow even more incensed and insane, "Months of work, months of planning, all the bodies, for nothing! NOTHING!" He bellowed the words.

Percy rolled onto his back, and tried his best to stem the flow of bleeding from the wound in his chest.

"I like a good joke as much as the next guy, but THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" He fired another round, but his hand was shaking so badly in his mounting rage that he missed to the right. Percy started crawling on his elbows, trying to gain some distance between himself and the Joker. Should worst come to worst, he supposed he could always get out of this, but judging by the rapidly approaching body of water, he didn't think it would really come to that.

Joker was descending the stairs, bounding towards him two steps at a time.

Percy grunted as something sharp collided with his rib-cage. Joker had kicked him with the point of his dress-shoes that Percy was sure had been sharpened to a point. Coughing up a mouthful of blood, he snarled up at the Clown, and hocked the biggest loogie he could up at the maniac.

The person had reached the roof of the building.

"I'm going to fucking kill you clown," He spat,

He got a mouthful of cold steel in answer.

The body was nearly right on top of them.

"I'm a funny guy, I have patience, but you have stepped on my last. Damn. Nerve." He cocked back the hammer on the revolver,

"This, detective, will be the last punchline you ever hear."

The world exploded.

---

With a final stroke of the keyboard, the sequence began and the antidote began synthesizing. Brining up a new command on the console, he sent the formula to the Watchtower to be ready for any potential distribution. Should worse come to worse then they needed to be prepared for mass distribution of a potential cure.

He'd hoped that he would never have to use the Batcave he installed on the island, but he was forever thankful that he'd had the foresight to build it. It had turned the night from an unmitigated disaster, into something that had become somewhat manageable.

"Master Bruce!" Alfred's voice was urgent, and tight. Something was wrong, very very wrong.

"What is it?" He asked, already moving away from the keyboard and heading towards the exit.

"It's detective Jackson!" Alfred said quickly,

"He's awake?"

They'd discovered his body buried under the rubble of the Medical Center, given what the satellite imaging was showing, he'd been alive albeit unconscious.

"He's awake and it would appear he's confronting the Joker sir, I'm registering gunfire coming from the building but the caliber's don't match the acoustic range of any standard issue GCPD weaponry."

He didn't need to hear any more. He was already at the mouth of the hidden cave entrance. Leaping off of the cliff-face he allowed his cape-like glider to take his weight and he soared through the night sky, high above the fields of the Asylum. Swooping into a dive, he picked up momentum and then sharply pulled up out of the dive and used the momentum to carry him towards the visitor center.

"Sir, judging from the imaging I'm seeing, it looks like detective Jackson has been shot. You might wish to hurry."

He didn't respond, instead he pulled his grappling hook out and he shot it at nearby railing at the top of a nearby guard tower. Feeling the line catch, he pulled himself up, before releasing the hook and using his momentum to catapult himself in the direction of the Visitor Center. There were several large stained glass windows, and through the light of the moon, he could just make out the silhouette of someone walking towards a strange lump on the ground. Activating his thermal scanning, he could see that the body on the ground was experiencing rapid blood loss. But even with the injuries that were clear on the figures form, their heart rate was surprisingly calm.

It was a sharp contrast to the other person in the hall, whose heart was pounding so quickly that they were at risk of suffering a serious injury.

Feeling his pulse begin to race, he braced himself, before he crashed through the glass window. Years of training and experience allowed him to control his descent in such a way that he was able to direct his body straight into the path of the Joker, who was standing over top of Jackson, his overly-large revolver shoved in the mouth of the detective.

Hist fist connected with the mouth of the Joker, sending him sprawling to the floor. He immediately checked the pulse of Jackson, but he needn't have worried,

"Behind you!" Jackson spat out, but it was too late. Even as he whirled around, Joker had already whipped out a new weapon. This one vastly different to the revolver he'd previously held. It had the appearance of a stun gun, but as the Joker depressed the trigger, instead of a cable of electrically charged cables, a syringe launched from the barrel and connected with the side of his neck.

The Joker let out a maniacal cackle. A gleeful and horrifying sound. Though he barely noticed as he fell to his knee.

"Oh this is just perfect!" Joker cackled, "Here I was, worried for nothing! Oh Batsy, you beautiful bastard! Always have to be the hero dontcha! You can't even help yourself, here I was thinking that everything I had planned would be for naught, but here you are! My proverbial knight in shining black spandex! Oh, you stupid bastard I could kiss you!"

Something…strange was happening to him. He could feel something fighting its way into his system. A strange desire to crush, to smash, to destroy, threatened to take over his entire being. He could feel the muscles in his body pull, and contort, threatening to split as they tried to grow.

He fought it. He fought the change with every fiber of his being.

"Ohoho, here we go ladies and germs!" The Joker announced, "The show we've all been waiting for," He knelt to the ground beside him, and inspected him closely. But his expression of glee morphed into one of apocalyptic anger,

"No…no no no no no! You're resisting the change? That's-that's cheating!" He reared back and kicked Batman in the chin. He collapsed to the ground, and very nearly lost his hold on himself, but he managed to keep his composure.

"It's not fair! Come on! Give in damnit! Give in!"

He gritted his teeth, and he could feel the vestiges of the Titan Venom flood from his system. Cocking back his fist, he caught Joker by surprise as he punched him clean in the jaw. The Joker stumbled back, dazed, and Batman got unsteadily to his feet.

"All I wanted was to bring down that grim facade!" The Joker sighed dramatically. His voice adopted a strange tremor, and if he hadn't known better, then he would have sworn that Joker was on the verge of crying, "For once-just once, I wanted you to see the world the way I see it, giggling and bleeding in the corner. But you've robbed me of even that!"

His voice was dead, cold, a sharp contrast from the way that he usually spoke.

He didn't like it.

Then he remembered the gun in his hand, and realization hit him. He tried to stand, but his body still wasn't responding. He couldn't move. Couldn't react.

"I suppose…that I have nothing left to live for…"

He put the barrel of the syringe weapon under his chin, a manically excited gleam in his eye.

Time seemed to slow, and Batman could see the Joker's finger slowly press down on the trigger. Inch by inch, the metal trigger slowly lowered.

Lower.

Lower.

'BANG'

The shot tore through the silence of the hall, and for a moment, a horrifying moment, Batman thought that the Joker had actually injected himself with the syringe.

But that wasn't the case.

The Joker's eyes were wide, his eyes bulging in their sockets, his mouth opened in a silent scream. Something red trickled down his cheeks, and that was when he noticed it.

The hole square in the middle of the madman's forehead.

His arm fell limp at his side, the weapon falling free from his grasp and dropping to the ground with a clatter. He took one stumbling step forward, before he collapsed in a mangled heap on the ground.

Mustering the strength to turn around, he saw what he had known would be there.

Percy Jackson was lying on the floor, his right pant leg rolled up revealing an empty ankle holster. Clutched in his shaking hand, was a small service pistol. The barrel still smoking.

Jackson, his face pale, and blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth, panted heavily. A bead of sweat trickled down from his forehead, and coagulated with the blood on his lips.

"I…fucking told you…that…I'd kill you…you smug bastard…"

The words came out rough, harsh, and tremulously. Before his eyes rolled back into his skull, and he collapsed back onto the floor, the gun clattering away at his side.

For the first time that evening,

Arkham truly had fallen silent.

Notes:

AND THERE WE HAVE IT! I know a lot of you wanted it, but how many of you actually thought I'd go through with it? Oh baby did that feel good! This is going to kick up a whole hell of a lot of shit, I'll tell you what. What kind of bullshit is Percy going to get wrapped up in next? I know, but you'll have to wait to find out! Unfortunately, this marks the end of my pre-written chapters, but I promise that this one is one of my priorities at the moment and I'll get back to One-Seven sooner rather than later. As always shoutout to Double0Sxvxn for being an awesome Beta and dealing with my bullshit and as always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week.

All My Love, and I'll see you soon,

LilDB

Chapter 30: Debriefing

Notes:

Just as a note, I (dread persephone) am going to be uploading/managing lildb's AO3 account for the time being. Updates will probably be every other day, or whenever I feel like it, but I'll catch up to what he has posted over on FFN. Which, by the way, all of his stories are mainly posted on fanfiction.net, which you can find here. You can also always bother him in the Emerald Library discord, where a bunch of authors and readers hang out. All author notes will be from the original story unless otherwise stated, which might be why they aren't always applicable :) -dread persephone

He was groggy as all hell. He was half-convinced that he was swimming through a pool of molasses. His arms felt heavy and weak, and it was a chore to as much as wiggle his toes. He tried to open his eyes, but it was as though they were being held down with lead weights. He fell still for a few moments, and chose instead to listen and try and gauge his surroundings that way. He could smell the distinct odor of antiseptics and disinfectant.

A hospital then.

But that wasn't right, was it? There was a strange constricting sensation around his neck and the feel of cool metal around his wrists.

Was he restrained?

He supposed it was possible, though definitely strange. He had most certainly shot and killed the Joker, he remembered that much, but it seemed a stretch to find him to his hospital bed like that.

Feeling was slowly returning to him, and he could feel the weight around his eyes leaving him. Once more, he tried to open his eyes, this time to success. Although he was nearly forced to shut them again as he was nearly blinded by the white-hot light above him. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed that he wasn't in a traditional hospital first and foremost. The steel-gray walls lined with strange machinery told him as much. Maybe he was in a prison? But that didn't make sense. He tried to raise his arms and found that he couldn't. Sure enough, as he looked down, he noted that both of his arms were restrained with strange-looking handcuffs.

Growing more confused and equally anxious, he reached out with his senses and tried to sense where he might have been but he couldn't feel anything.

In fact, he couldn't feel his powers at all. Frowning anxiously, he tried to pull at the restraints, but nothing happened. That wasn't right, he should have been more than strong enough to free himself from a pair of simple shackles.

"We've dampened your powers," a familiar voice said from his right. Turning, he swore in annoyance as he saw an amused looking Canary, mask sitting cheekily on her face, looking down at him.

"Not the first thing a girl wants to hear when a man wakes up, but I suppose I'd be expecting too much from you."

"Fuck off!" Spat Percy bitterly, "What the fuck is going on?"

"You were shot," said Canary simply, "So Batman brought you here for recovery."

"Then why am I 'cuffed and how the fuck did you even suppress my powers,"

"Power dampening collar," said Dinah, pointing to his neck. Looking down, Percy saw that he did, in fact, have a strange-looking collar wrapped around his neck. That explained his difficulty breathing he supposed.

"Oh don't pout," chided Canary, "You could have destabilized the entire facility if you woke up swinging, and trust me that wouldn't have gone well for anyone involved."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Said Percy in agitation,

"You'll see," said Canary ominously, a cheeky smile on her face. Grunting in further agitation, Percy collapsed against the stiff pillows of the bed. Under normal circumstances, he would have fought with her more, but he was exhausted. His sustained use of powers took it's toll after a while, and the damage to his body had been severe. He would just have to bide his time he supposed. That was, unless there was something more going on here.

"So," he said, "You guys bring me here to kill me or something?" He was only half-joking, a reality that was evident given the tone of his voice.

"Please don't say things like that," said Canary, anger creeping into her voice, "We're not going to kill you,"

"You kidnapped me, trapped in the middle of gods only know where, handcuffed me to a bed, and took my powers away. What the hell did you think I was going to think?" Said Percy incredulously.

Canary didn't seem to know how to respond to that, and they fell into an uncomfortable silence. Percy slumped back into his sheets and thought more over his situation. Things weren't looking terrific at the moment. Wherever the hell he was, he would be willing to bet anything that his chances at escape were slim to none. The damn Justice League…almost nothing was known about them beyond what the public was allowed to know. The chances of Percy being able to not only get his collar off, but find a way to get away from some of the most powerful humans to ever exist…

He would just need to bide his time and see if an opportunity presented itself he supposed.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Percy was startled by the sudden question, and jolted out of his thoughts to look over at Canary, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

"You can ask," shrugged Percy, "But I won't promise to answer,"

"Why didn't you just leave the island?" Asked Canary,

"Because someone wanted me dead," said Percy simply, "People were clearly trying to kill me, and so I took that personally and wanted to get to the bottom of it."

"By staying in an active war-zone," said Canary incredulously, "That doesn't make sense to me,"

"You say a war-zone I say tomahto,"

"That doesn't make any sense,"

"You don't make any sense,"

"Could you stop acting like a petulant child for one second answer my question seriously?"

"I did answer it seriously," Percy shot back, "People wanted me dead, and I was just supposed to take that lying down? And why do you even care? Aren't I just an 'assignment?' You don't actually care so can you please stop acting like you do."

Canary was silent, and her head drooped down to her chest, her hands fidgeting uncomfortably in her lap.

"You're not just an assignment," she said softly,

"I'm sorry?" Said Percy, uncertain he had heard correctly,

"I said you aren't just another assignment, alright?" Said Canary hotly, before growing a little subdued, "Please don't say that."

Confused by the strange sentimentality, Percy dropped the subject.

"Do you regret it?" Canary asked after a moment, "Killing the Joker?"

"I only regret that somebody didn't do it sooner," said Percy callously, "Man was a monster. God knows how many cemeteries could be filled because of him. He doesn't deserve sympathy, he deserves to rot in the pits of Tartarus."

He shrugged, "Besides, you know what my life was like. I've been a soldier since I was five. I don't feel sympathy for killing twisted, degenerate filth. You want someone to cry over him? You can go to the Bat, but if you expect me to regret dropping that son of a bitch like a bad habit then you've come to the wrong person."

He fell silent after his little tirade, panting heavily. He wasn't about to be made to feel guilty about killing someone like the Joker. He was all for the League's personal code against killing, but when it came to him using deadly force within the scope of his job, he wasn't about to get dragged for an objectively correct choice made in the heat of combat.

"I wasn't accusing you of anything," said Canary softly, "I was just asking. Given your upbringing, it's not beyond the realm of impossibility that you could easily lose sight of your humanity."

"For the love of-" groaned Percy, "Not you too. I already have one woman in my life acting like my shrink, I don't need two."

Sighing and closing his eyes, he missed the way that Canary flinched painfully at the remark.

A thought occurred to him,

"So what about my job?" He asked, "If I'm here, I'm assuming that means that the GCPD doesn't know that I'm alive?"

Canary perked up at the change of topic, and shook her head,

"Actually no. We contacted Commissioner Gordon shortly after your arrival. Your superiors were told that due to the injuries you sustained when the boiler room exploded, you were recovering here with us."

"And they fucking bought that?" Percy said incredulously, "How often does the Justice League take nondescript detectives, regardless of their injury status,"

"We have more leeway than most," shrugged Canary, and Canary rolled his eyes in response,

"Which brings up back to the important question of the day," said Percy, "Why the fuck am I here,"

"The League has questions for you," said Canary,

"Of course they do," sighed Percy, "Then can we get this over with already? I want to go home."

"In due time," said Canary, "We've been trying to settle things for the last couple of hours. After Batman told us that Joker was dead, we scrambled the rest of the League to scour Gotham to track down the bombs Joker supposedly scattered around the city…though most of them were full of cats and marzipan."

"Of course they were," said Percy, and then paused as Canary raised a hand to ear,

"Got it," she said into the device, "We're on our way,"

"That works out I suppose," Percy muttered as Canary pressed a button on the side of the restraints, which fell free from the bed.

"Can I trust you to behave yourself?" Asked Canary,

"Only if they do," grunted Percy as he rubbed at his wrists and followed Canary out of the room.

"So I don't suppose that you're going to tell me where we-" Percy stopped abruptly, they had walked into a large and spacious hallway, and the bulk of his attention was the enormous window spanning the length of the hallway. Slowly, Percy walked over to the window and gazed down at the earth below.

"Holy shit," he muttered, "We're in space,"

"Understand why we didn't want you waking up guns blazing?" Canary asked, as she pressed something on the side of his collar, which fell to the floor in a clatter.

"Y'all don't do things by half, do you?" He asked, not expecting an answer,

"Come on," said Canary, walking back down the hall, "Best not to keep the others waiting."

Numbly, Percy stepped away from the window and slowly followed after his handler. Still reeling over the revelation that apparently the Justice League's secret headquarters was actually in space of all places, he barely even registered that he'd walked into a large conference room until the door closed behind him. He became painfully aware that he was suddenly in the midst of the most powerful beings on the planet, bar perhaps the gods themselves.

Some of them he recognized rather well, while others he had to dig through his memory banks to remember their names. Funny, he didn't remember Earth having two Green Lanterns, and he idly wondered when that had happened.

"Percy," said a blessedly familiar voice, and Percy turned and smiled as Zatara walked up and embraced his arm tightly in a friendly grip,

"So good to be seeing you again, my friend," said Zatara meaningfully, until his expression dropped, "You owe Zatanna an apology, I don't think I've seen her that worried in years,"

Percy nodded, and broke off the handshake, "I'll swing by when I have a free minute, been meaning to see here anyways. I'm guessing this whole ordeal hasn't been easy for her,"

"Nor you, dare I say," said Zatara, scrutinizing him closely, "You were not in the best shape when Batman brought you in."

"Having a building dropped on you will do that to a guy,"

"I seem to remember a rather similar scenario in Bangladesh that you handled far better," chuckled Zatara, much to Percy's concternation,

"You and John are never going to let me live that down, are you," he said bitterly,

"Not on your life," chuckled Zatara, and then flushed slightly when someone cleared their throat behind them,

"If you two are done catching up," said Superman, looking more than a little agitated,

"You've been watching me for months, invading my privacy, assigned me a personal babysitter, and kidnapped me against my will," said Percy over Zatara's shoulder, "So you can sit there and wait until I'm good and ready to talk to you Clark,"

The air in the room dipped, as Superman stiffened, and Zatara sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Tactful as ever, Percy," he sighed,

"I don't-" Superman started to say but Percy cut him off with a scoff,

"Whatever you wanna say to help you sleep at night Kent," he maneuvered around Zatara who whispered as he passed,

"Please, just hear them out, for my benefit,"

Not acknowledging his friend, Percy walked over to an empty chair at the end of the large conference table, beside an open chair and Martian Manhunter.

"Bit of advice for you though," said Percy, idly picking at some dirt under his fingernail, "Make sure you button up your suit all the way next time you fly off. You've got a bad habit of forgetting a couple buttons."

"All right," said Diana passively, though it appeared to Percy as though she were barely refraining from smiling, "We need not waste any more of your time, cousin."

Percy grunted, and leaned back in his chair as Zatara took the seat immediately to Percy's right and Canary sat down across the room. Scanning the occupants of the room quickly, Percy realized that Batman was nowhere to be seen.

"No Bat?" He asked,

"His injuries were not so easily healed as yours," said Diana breezily, "Now, we had some questions we were hoping you would be able to answer,"

"Assuming a lot about my willingness to cooperate," said Percy,

"I think you'll be convinced soon enough," said Diana dismissively, "What can you tell us about Klarion,"

It was certainly not the question that Percy had been anticipating. He had expected that, if anything, the League would have wanted to hear as much about what happened on the island as possible. His curiosity piqued, he shrugged,

"Nothing Zatara probably hasn't already told you," said Percy, shooting a look at the man out of the corner his eye and taking a savage pleasure in watching the way he twitched.

"Be that as it may," said Diana patiently, "But we would like to hear the words from the horses mouth so to speak. Did you have many encounters with the Witch-Boy?"

"Only two," said Percy slowly, "First time was a couple years ago. He was terrorizing a small town in Massachusetts, Klarion wasn't a creature of logic but pure chaos. He liked to play games with his food so to speak. Zatara, Constantine, Blood, Kent, and myself went out to try and take him off the board. Had the opportunity to banish the bastard but Kent talked me out of it…" He trailed off, as a thought occurred to him and his conversation with Nabu came back to him. Had the helm told Kent that Klarion needed to live?

"And you never had any contact with him again until the incident in October?" Asked Diana, snapping Percy put of his thoughts,

"That's right," he nodded, "Look, what the fuck does it even matter? Klarion was a prick, but he's trapped in the cage right now. What's really going on?"

"The gem he was using," said Diana, ignoring his question, "Do you know how he came into contact with it? Why he would enlist the help of other sorcerers to make use of its power,"

"The fuck makes you think I know?" Snapped Percy, feeling very over the entire conversation. He'd made a token effort for Zatara's benefit, but he was sick of being a plaything for the League. Standing up, he made to leave the room and try and find some way off the space station when Superman called out to him,

"Klarion was working with partners."

Percy stopped, "I assume you mean beyond those schmucks he brought with him a few months ago?"

"Bigger," said Diana, "Much bigger. As in he's working with equal partners, a group comparable to the Justice League in terms of power and influence."

"I thought they got dealt with during that whole plant-attack bullshit," said Percy,

"So did we," said Canary, drawing Percy's attention her way, "But I discovered some…distressing information during the Joker's attack."

"There's compelling evidence to suggest that the villain's plant-attack was little more than a deception." said Diana, "To distract us from the real threat."

"And that would be?" Said Percy,

"We don't know for certain," said Superman, "And we don't know anything for certain, but as I said, there is evidence to suggest that Klarion was working with the likes of the League of Shadows and potentially others."

"There has been an uptick in highly organized villain attacks over the last year. More calculated, more tactical. Far beyond than anything we've ever seen before." Added Diana,

"Good for you guys," said Percy in agitation, "But I missed the part of this discussion where any of this concerns me."

"It concerns you," sighed Superman rubbing at his temple in mounting agitation, "Because you sit at the center of this. You killed Klarion and all of a sudden the League of Shadows wants you dead, you don't see the connection?"

"I do, but I'm failing to see why I should give a single damn about your little shadow war." said Percy,

"You're being pretty snarky for someone wanted dead by one of the most influential organizations on the planet," said one of the Green Lanterns, brow arched over his face-mask.

"I've been fighting literal monsters, gods, and titans since I was a literal child," said Percy dryly, "Forgive me if I'm not feeling overly threatened by a couple of mortals with steel."

"Awful arrogant of you," observed Hawkwoman,

"Maybe," said Percy, " But I don't really care. They want me dead? They can try and kill me themselves. They can see for themselves how well that will go for them."

"Cousin," said Diana carefully, taking a hesitant step in his direction, "Please do not underestimate the threat the League of Shadows pose. They might not be the kinds of monsters that you fought as a youth, but they are no less dangerous."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," said Percy stubbornly, "Now if we're done here-"

"We're not," said Diana crossly. Percy sighed, and sat back down in the chair, it wasn't worth the fight, not when he was quite literally stranded in low orbit. He gestured for her to continue,

"Given the connection between yourself, Klarion, and the League of Shadows," continued Diana "We've begun a cross-reference of any and all other interactions you've had with other super-villains,"

Percy felt a pit form in his stomach. He didn't like the direction this was heading.

"Five years ago you had a run-in with the super-villain by the alias of Queen Bee."

A picture appeared behind Diana, and it took every ounce of self-controlled maintain his composure at the sight of the woman.

"We would like to know what happened," said Diana,

"That's classified," said Percy evenly,

"Perseus-" sighed Diana,

"That information is classified intelligence regarding ongoing military operations in the Middle East," repeated Percy, "If you wish to know more, please file a memorandum with the United States, States Department under the Freedom of Information Act,"

"This is a joke right," said the Flash skeptically,

"We've been through the files of the encounter already," said Superman, "At least what wasn't covered in black ink, which wasn't much mind you. We just wanted you to fill in the details,"

"That information is classified," said Percy again, almost robotically. Superman looked like he was going to press the issue further, but was stopped when both of the Green Lanterns stood up together,

"That's enough, Superman," said the maskless Lantern, "Man legally can't tell us anything about what happened."

"John-" Superman started to say, when the other Lantern cut him off,

"Drop it, Clark," said the other Lantern, "Trust me, he's not going to talk. Besides, I don't think there's anything he can really tell us that we don't already know. We know he ran into another super-villain, that's enough for me. John?"

"Enough for me Hal," said John,

Confused and curious, Percy spared a glance at the two. The maskless Lantern, John, noticed and nodded at him. Percy didn't quite understand the gesture, but he wasn't about to look a gift-horse in the mouth.

Sighing, Diana nodded, then looked over at Canary. Understanding the unspoken message, Canary stood up and walked over to Percy. With a passing nod at the pair of Lanterns, Percy followed Canary out of the small room.

The trip out into the bowels of the space station, or whatever the hell this place was, ended up a silent one. He didn't mind. He didn't have much he wanted to say. He just wanted to get back to his apartment and get to bed. He stopped briefly, however, as they walked back into another long corridor with a window peering over the Earth below. He took a moment to bask in the beauty of the world.

It was strange, from all the way up there, the planet looked so small. So peaceful. It was almost impossible to imagine the unspeakable horrors that lived down on the surface. That poverty, discrimination, violence, and all the evils of mankind were staining the picturesque vision before him.

It put things in perspective for him. Reminded him of just how small his life and his problems were, in the grand scheme of everything that went on. He wanted to appreciate this moment. To lock this realization in the back of his mind for forever. He needed the memory, for whenever things seemed hopeless. Wanted to be able to look back at this moment and remember that when things got terrible, his problems were minuscule in the grand scheme of things.

"Puts things in perspective, doesn't it," said Canary softly, as she walked up and rested against the window beside him, gazing out over the world.

"Hell of a view you guys got," said Percy,

"Percy…" said Canary, the odd softness of her voice undercut by the pitch modulator on her throat, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" He asked, and Canary shifted uncomfortably,

"For everything." Canary said lamely, "For dragging you into this, for invading your privacy, for…for everything I guess."

Percy didn't say anything, but a flare of annoyance did disturb his otherwise inner peace,

"Don't do that," he said bitterly,

"What?"

"That half-baked apology crap," said Percy, doing his best not to look at her, "Look, I get why the Bat is paranoid as hell about me, all right? I get it. I'm sure he got Diana or Zatara or someone to spill the beans. To tell him about just what I can do, and I won't even say that he doesn't have a valid concern. If I was in his position, and a rogue demigod who could literally sink an entire city into the ocean if he lost control wandered into my town, I'd want him followed too."

He turned and looked at her.

"But just because I can empathize with his position, does not excuse the fact that you've dragged me into your messes. That you've been doing your damndest to keep from having a normal life. I've done my time with dealing with gods thinking they're above mortals, I don't need to deal with it from you people either."

"That hardly seems fair," said Canary, frowning, "We've been following you yes, and I won't contend that we've dug far more into your life than we've had any more right to. But I don't think it's at all fair to say that we've dragged you into our lives. It was you, not us, who joined the team to confront Klarion. Your own actions that dragged you into the light of the Shadows and everything else. You can be mad at us for a lot, but don't project more than we deserve."

Percy didn't have a response to that. They fell into silence for a few minutes, before Canary walked away, leading Percy away from the window. Casting one last look at the Earth, he slowly followed suit.

---

He sighed contentedly as he collapsed into his chair in the living room. He did not like Zeta travel, it was wildly disorienting, even worse than vapor travel. He was sore, and exhausted. His body was still not fully recovered from his ordeal, and he was not looking forward to going back into work the following day. He hadn't taken the time to call Gordon or even Montoya to let him know about his status. He thought that he had earned a night to himself to relax and recover. He could deal with all of the potential fallout in the morning.

He was just nodding off to sleep in his chair when he was jolted awake by a knock on the door. He paused for a moment, looking at the door in bewilderment. He was fairly sure that the knock had been on his door for sure, but that didn't make sense, anyone who knew him personally knew that he had been recovering. There was another, heavier, knock on the door and Percy's decision was made for him. Groaning, Percy stood up and walked stiffly to the door.

"Yes, how can I-"

Percy stopped, his heart falling to the pit of his stomach as he took in the appearance of the woman on his doorstep. She was a beautiful young woman, just about his age, but perhaps a year or so younger. She had long raven hair that was tied into a messy ponytail which stuck out the back of a faded New York Yankees baseball cap. She had an angular and symmetrical face, with piercing sea-green eyes, the exact same shade as his own.

However most notable, was the considerable bulge of her stomach, indicating that her rather heavy pregnancy.

"Hey Perce," grinned his half-sister, Helen, "Long time no see."

Notes:

Big news, we're in the last arc of the story. And I know what you're thinking, this doesn't feel like it should be the end, there's so many questions left unanswered! And you'd be right, which is why I'm officially going to confirm something I might have said before but there will be a second book. There won't be a monumental time-skip or anything and I think y'all will like what we have planned. As always shoutout to Double0Sxvxn for being an awesome Beta and dealing with my bullshit and as always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week.

All My Love and see you next week,

LilDB

Chapter 31: Family Gatherings

Percy stared numbly at the woman on his threshold. He blinked, hoping beyond hope that she was little more than a figment of his imagination. But he was immensely disappointed when he opened his eyes again and saw that she was still there.

As though able to read his mind, Helen smirked,

"I'm real, Percy, now are you going to invite me in or what? It's cold as balls out here, and in case you haven't noticed I'm carrying a heavy load here."

His mouth wasn't working, and his body acted of its own accord as he stepped aside and allowed her to step into the apartment.

"Man it's boring in here," she noted in disappointment, "I knew you Romans were lame but I was hoping that at least you wouldn't have a stick up your ass. Not even Jason is so neat,"

"He's been spending too much time around barbarians," Percy grumbled, "Helen, what are you doing here?"

She slumped down into his favorite chair, and sighed happily as she kicked off her flats,

"Gods that's better. You know I thought they were joking when they talked about your feet swelling but I didn't think it would be nearly this bad,"

"Helen," said Percy, snapping his fingers, "Focus. What are you doing at my home?"

"Visiting you, duh?" She rolled her eyes, "I mean seriously Percy, do you know how hard it was to find you. Low blow by the way, I had to find out you were in Gotham from Rachel of all people. I mean seriously! Did Jason or Reyna even know you were here."

"I wanted to be left alone," Percy crossed his hands over his chest and rested against his kitchen island, his eyes narrowing, "And I'd like it to stay that way."

"Don't be a dick," Helen frowned, her eyes flashing a bright green for a second, "Do you have any idea how worried I was when Diana called me and told me that you nearly died?"

It was Percy's turn for his eyes to flash dangerously, as lightning flashed outside the window.

"She had no right-" snarled Percy,

"I beg to-fucking-differ," said Helen hotly, "Percy you were shot, your ribcage had been crushed, your fucking heart stopped for over a minute. You don't get to keep me out of the loop when your life is in danger!"

"Why?" Said Percy incredulously, "We don't even know each other,"

"And whose fault is that?" Helen glared at him, "You've been blowing me off for years! I'm your sister, Percy. Your sister. I deserve to know when you've been shot by a freak dressed like a clown, which by the way, how the hell did you let that happen."

"We share a sperm donor," said Percy coldly, "And even then, not even. And I haven't been blowing you off, I've been living my own life."

"Bullshit," scoffed Helen, "The bodies hadn't even been buried before you'd disappeared. Nobody knew where you'd gone, I thought you were fucking dead, Percy. Dead. And then the next time I see you, it's getting pulled out of the rubble of some broken building on that hellhole of an island."

Her eyes began to glisten a little, "I just do not understand why you don't want to have a relationship Percy. We're family."

"We share blood," said Percy, "That doesn't make us family. I didn't know you existed until you stumbled into the city."

"That's low, Percy," sniffed Helen, "That's real fucking low. Jason and Thalia didn't know each other existed either, but look at them."

"Yeah, one's a House Representative, and the other is an immortal fourteen-year-old, they really epitomize familial love," snorted Percy,

"Why are you such a dick!" Cried Helen, hobbling to her feet, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, "I just want to know my brother! To have a fucking family! Are you really that selfish that you don't want that too!"

"I'm selfish?" Growled Percy, "I'm selfish? Where do you get off! Which one of us came barnstorming to the other's house unannounced and uninvited. Which one of us tried to live their own life, free from the bullshit that we've had to deal with all our lives. Which one of us disrupted that peace because of their own selfish desires!"

"We're family, Percy. I'm your sister! Are you really saying that doesn't mean anything to you?"

"I'm saying I want nothing to do with your world." Percy deflated against the island. He needed a drink.

"My world is your world, Percy," said Helen sadly, falling back into her chair,

"No it's not," Percy shook his head, "Not anymore. I gave that up. I got out and I've been out. That world, your world, I don't have a place in it anymore, and my life is infinitely better for it."

"Is that what this is about?" Helen's eyes narrowed dangerously, and another flash of lightning danced across the sky outside,

"This is because I'm Greek?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Percy was thrown by the comment, "Did I say anything about you being Greek?"

"No," scoffed Helen, "You talked about how it's my world, not your world but my world. Say what you mean, it's because I'm Greek right, you always had a problem with Annabeth and Leo. I guess I get it now, it's because you're nothing more than a fucking bigot."

"Are you kidding me," Percy laughed, unable to help himself, "You're insane! It has nothing to do with you being Greek!"

"Then what is it really about Percy!" Helen stormed over and got as close to Percy as her protruding belly would allow. Percy snarled, his anger snapping as his exhaustion and agitation reached a boiling point.

"No, you don't get it. You've never gotten it. I can't go back, because if I do, if I let myself step even one toe over the line and back into your world, then there's no turning back. That's not a switch that can be flipped back off. I have a life now. A life away from them, and I'm proud of my life. I'm sorry that you feel like I'm trying to butt you out, but you can't expect me to feel guilty about not wanting to jump back into bed with those people. Least of all because of a woman I don't even know."

That was the straw that broke the camels back. The tears began to flow freely, and without another word, Helen grabbed her discarded shoes and disappeared in a flurry of mist.

Percy groaned, leaning onto the island and resting his head in his arms. He'd been too hard on her. He knew it. She just wanted to have an actual relationship with any kind of family. He didn't know much about the woman, but he knew that her home life had been far from ideal. He couldn't blame her for wanting to actually know the closest thing to family she actually had.

But Percy wasn't going to sacrifice his life for her sake. Helen didn't get it, and he doubted that she ever would. Percy was happy with his life, happy that he actually had something resembling a normal, mortal life. He was not going to sacrifice that for anything.

With a grunt, he walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of bourbon.

He needed a drink.

---

"You sound like shit,"

"Why thank you Monty, I'm fine thanks. Feeling great, just had a building fall on me, no big."

"Serves you right for being a dumbass."

"How is this my fault?"

"It's not," chuckled Montoya, "I just like busting your balls a little. You sure you're good to get back to work, it's only been like two days."

"I'm good," said Percy as he brought his car to a stop at a red light, "Whatever the League has in their super secret base is some good shit,"

"No shit," snorted Montoya, "You get a good look while you were there? Most people would give an arm and a leg to see the League's operation."

"Nah," lied Percy smoothly, "I was under the whole time. Woke up this morning in my own bed with a sticky-note on my stomach telling me what happened."

"Classy," said Montoya, "Well, if you're serious about coming in, head downtown. I'm meeting with Jim in twenty."

"Not at the precinct?" Asked Percy, as he turned his lights on and pulled a u-turn,

"About that…"

"Oh god, what now?"

"One-Seven is being shut down,"

Percy very nearly slammed into the rear-end of the car ahead of him in surprise.

"Fucking what?!"

"I know, nobody has heard from Winston since he called you, Gordon is sending some uniforms up to his place now to see if he's there, but Wise and Cavello have gone dark too. Gordon decided that now is the time to shutter the precinct, got the green light from the mayor and everything."

Percy let out a low whistle, "So are we out of a job?"

Montoya snorted, "Don't bet your ass on it, you on your way?"

"Yeah, see you in a bit," Throwing his phone onto the passenger seat, Percy let out a low breath.

"That can't be good."

Montoya was waiting for him as pulled into the lot attached to One Police Plaza.

"You look even worse than you sounded," said Montoya as Percy stepped out of the car,

"I can really feel the love and support, Monty," Percy tapped his heart as they fell into step towards the office, "Right here."

"Shut it, dipshit," Montoya slugged him in the shoulder, "Glad to see you in one piece though." She didn't say any more, and Percy didn't offer anything. They walked in companionable and comfortable silence all the way up to Gordon's office.

Gordon looked about as terrible as Percy had felt the other night. He was sporting a rather nasty black-eye, and his nose was bandaged so thickly it looked like he had a snowball sitting on his face.

He grunted as he took in Percy's appearance, a bloom of smoke trickling from his lips,

"Wasn't expecting to see you Jackson, not to say it's not damn good to see you up and around." He reached out and Percy gripped his hand in a tight embrace.

"Good to see you too, sir,"

Percy realized that they weren't alone in the room. Standing by the window, gazing out over the town below was the District Attorney. Percy met Gordon's eyes, and he subtly shook his head.

Without questioning the man's presence, Percy and Montoya sat down in the chairs across from Gordon who cleared his throat,

"How bad was it?" Percy asked as gordon emptied his pipe out and refilled the tobacco in a fluid set of motions,

"Bad," grunted Gordon, "Eighty dead, hundred and forty-eight more wounded. Fucking nightmare."

Percy let out a soft breath, slouching in his chair. He had expected as much. Given the sheer number of bodies that he alone had passed on his secluded corner of the island, he could only have guessed how full-scale the damage really was. Though the worst part about it was likely the number of innocent lives caught in the madman's crossfire. There were, after all, more than doctors and cops on the island. How many cooks, janitorial staff, clerks and ordinary civilian staff members had lost their lives because of a madman and his schemes?

"Before we get to that, however," said Gordon, bringing Percy out of his reverie,"There are other matters I want to get to. I'm not sure how much Montoya has filled you in Jackson, but Winston filed his resignation late the other night." He shot a meaningful look at Percy and Montoya, before clearing his throat,

"I shouldn't have to explain to you the implication there," continued Gordon, and he was right. Since Winston had been the one to order Percy to the island, if he knew that Percy had been brought off the island alive, then he would have known that he would be investigated, thoroughly. Winston might have been criminal scum, but he wasn't so stupid as to think he could stick around after something like that.

"Given the state of the precinct, as well as the blatant attack on you, Jackson, I've decided it's high time that change is implemented. I've officially petitioned and since gotten the approval from the Mayor to dissolve the One-Seven. I'm moving Major Crimes to my own office for the time being. Given the recent uptick in…major meta-human activity, and given the recent activities of certain major players in the town, the D.A.," He eyes darted over to Dent who was still standing by the window,

"The Mayor, and myself are of the opinion that Major Crimes needs to be taking a more active role in certain ongoing investigations."

Percy and Montoya shared a look. He hadn't ever heard of something like that ever happening, but he didn't know how much power and latitude Gordon had in Gotham. Still, such a shake-up like that, it wouldn't go unnoticed. That would grab the attention, both within the city and within the underworld. Still, Percy approved of the decision.

"With that out of the way," sighed Gordon, taking a deep inhale from his pipe and breathed out a plume of smoke,

"What the fuck happened on that island, Jackson?"

The question did not come from Gordon, but instead came from Dent. He was still not looking at Percy, but Percy could tell that his jaw was clenched so tightly that he was likely risking chipping a tooth.

"How much do you know, sir?"

"Assume we know nothing," said Dent, and Percy shot a furtive glance at Gordon, who gestured for him to proceed. Taking a breath, Percy leapt into a detailed, albeit slightly abridged version of what happened. He was interrupted only a few times by the odd probing question from Dent,

"How many people, excluding us, know what happened?" Asked Dent,

"As far as I'm aware, Batman and maybe the Justice League," said Percy, and Dent nodded in satisfaction, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair,

"Let's keep it that way,"

"Yes sir," Percy had no plans of telling the world his story. Percy knew that Dent wasn't doing him a favor, but the department. Percy's involvement would lead to questions about his being there on the island, and those questions would have uncomfortable answers regarding the state of the department, more specifically the state of the precinct lieutenants. It would be a bad look. While it might have been the most poorly kept secret in the city that the majority of the department was dirty, they didn't need to be airing such dirty laundry to the general public.

No more was said about the Joker, and nothing more was needed to be said. Percy didn't need praise, didn't need a pat on the back and an "atta boy." He was more than happy enough to know that he was the one to a bullet in the bastard himself.

"There's going to be an investigation," said Dent, finally stepping away from the window. The moon had started rising and was casting half of his face in a dim shadowy light. He pulled a silver dollar out of his pocket and idly began to flip it between his fingers. Percy followed the roll of the coin, mesmerized by the hypnotic motion.

"But, given the state of Internal Affairs these days," Dent shrugged, "I have difficulty in believing they're going to find anything too interesting,"

"The department never was the same after you left, was it Harvey?"

Dent snorted, "I don't think the rest of the department sees it that way, don't think I don't know what the rest of you bastards used to call me behind my back." He shook his head, "Regardless, Jackson, I wouldn't worry too much about the state of your job. As far as I'm concerned anything that happened within the walls of that hell-house was justifiable by the exigent circumstances at hand."

Percy didn't think it was the right decision to tell him that Percy hadn't been particularly worried about his job, but he nodded his thanks all the same.

"And my apologies for the third-degree," said Dent, as he began to pace a meandering circle around the office, "But given the current state of things…well I couldn't be too careful."

"Careful about what, if you don't mind my asking," said Percy hesitantly,

"Given your department-excuse me-former department, what do you think?" Said Dent sarcastically, "In case you hadn't noticed detective, Gotham is sitting on the brink of all-out war. The Falcone family is fracturing and even as we speak, they're beginning to kill each other right left and center." He casually flipped the coin into the air, and fluidly caught it in his other hand and began the flipping all over again,

"Gordon might trust you, but I haven't worked long enough with you to get a good read on you. Sorry if that offends you,"

Percy wasn't quite sure what to make of the man, so he opted not to respond.

"The problem," continued Dent, "Is that you received a call from a known associate of Christian Falcone, and not an hour later you ended up in the middle of a full-scale riot. I just wanted to make sure that you were clean in all of this."

"That's outta line Harvey," growled Gordon, "In case you forgot, but Jackson was a victim in that whole mess as much as I was. As anyone."

"You're blinded by your loyalty to your men, Jim," said Dent casually, "One of your strongest qualities to be sure, but it also works to your detriment. If you could step back and look at things from my perspective, then you would be just as suspicious as I am."

"Suspicious of what, exactly?" Asked Percy, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He did not exactly appreciate what Dent was implying,

"That you're working for Falcone," said Dent casually, and Percy could get at least applaud the man for his candor.

"You think I would willingly throw myself into that shit-show?" Asked Percy, unsure whether he should punch the man or laugh at him,

"No, but it would be an awfully convenient way for Falcone to get rid of someone once he'd outlived his usefulness,"

"Harvey!" Snarled Gordon, "What the hell are you trying to prove here?"

"Nothing," shrugged Dent, "Because I don't think he's working with Falcone,"

"Then what the fuck was that?" Demanded Percy, all sense of professionalism and decorum thrown to the wayside,

"I just wanted to check and see if your story checked out. As far as I'm concerned, it does. Congratulations detective, you can check yourself off the list."

"How the fuck did you ever get elected?" Percy grumbled, as he slouched back down into his chair,

"Teeth whitening strips and plenty of charisma," smiled Dent broadly, and Percy shared a look with Montoya,

"Now that that's over," said Dent, "We can get to the other reason I wanted to talk to you Jackson-"

However Dent was cut off by the abrupt ringing of Gordon's office phone. Sighing, Gordon reached out and answered it,

"Lacy, I'm busy right now-wait what?"

Percy didn't like the way his eyes went wide, and he was already rising from his chair with Montoya.

"Nothing is ever easy in this fucking town," grumbled Montoya as she checked her service pistol.

"Tell them to tape it off immediately!" Roared Gordon, "I want the press kept away and civilian and officer contact kept to a minimum. Tell them to let nobody but Detectives Montoya and Jackson onto the scene and that's a direct order from me!"

Gordon slammed the phone back down on the hook and looked up at Percy and Montoya, eyes blazing,

"You'll have to wait Harvey, we have something urgent."

"What happened now," sighed Dent,

"Winston," said Gordon, "His car just crashed into an apartment building on Fifth and Broadway, he's been shot."

---

The scene was already a mess of civilians and officers by the time that Percy and Montoya arrived. Winston's car, a large truck, had been embedded into the wall of a nearby apartment building. Part of the structure had collapsed and was laying atop the hood, as debris continued to fall in a clatter on the misshapen metal. The car had driven over a fire hydrant, and water was spraying onto the street. A couple of pedestrians were out of their cars and speaking to uniformed officers, the front and rear bumpers of one of the cars had been dented. Percy assumed that Winston's car had run through a red light and smashed headlong into the other vehicle, which had stopped and gotten rear-ended.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," snarled Montoya, and Percy tore his gaze away from the wreckage to follow Montoya's gaze. His own eyes narrowed as he took in the forms of Cavello and Wise, speaking animatedly with a uniformed officer that was barring their entrance to the scene.

"…We got the call from dispatch ourselves, now get the hell out of our way before I report you!" Wise was all but screaming, but the older officer held his ground and did not budge from his spot. He spotted Percy and Montoya walking in his direction, and grimaced at them,

"Detectives," he called out as they approached, "Scene has been left untouched so far. CSI is on the way but they're probably going to be another twenty minutes."

"Middle of rush-hour, not a surprise," said Montoya in annoyance, before turning to the other detectives, "Cavello, Wise, what the fuck are you two doing here?"

"We got the call from dispatch!" Snarled Cavello, "We were here first but this old fuck won't let us in." Cavello's hand twitched dangerously towards the grip of his service pistol and Percy took a menacing step forward, a cloudy expression on his face,

"Funny thing about that," said Percy, his voice even, "We just came from the Commissioner's office, and we know for a fact that you weren't ordered here. We were. Think we might want to let the Commissioner know about this, Montoya?"

"I think you make an excellent point Metro," growled Montoya, "I think he'd just love to hear more about this."

Cavello looked like he was about to take a swing at Montoya, but Wise shot an arm out and stopped Cavello before he could do something stupid. With a withering glare, in their direction, Wise and Cavello made their way away.

"Assholes," grumbled Montoya, "Thanks for that Pierce,"

"No problem Renee," said Pierce, tipping the brim of his cap at her, "Not all of us are shitheads."

"You're definitely one of the good ones old man," teased Montoya, as she ducked under the tape and walked into the crime scene,

"Little pixie," grunted Pierce, sharing a commiserating look with Percy as he walked under the tape as well.

The scene was even worse as Percy and Montoya got closer. Bits and pieces of the car were strewn across the road, and Percy was forced to step over the shattered front bumper on his way to the car. The interior of the car was a disaster, as dust and debris from the accident had blown inside and had coated everything in a thin sheen of pale mauve.

Winston was laying prone over the middle dash, and blood was continually dripping onto the passenger chair he was bent over. Pulling a pair of gloves and face-shield on, Percy opened the door to the car and inspected the body, taking care not to move or alter the position of the body in any way. There was a small hole in the back of his head, but the horror truly began and ended with his face. Or what little remained.

"Jesus fuck," muttered Montoya as she leaned through the passenger door.

A high caliber had to have been used, because Winston no longer had what could reasonably be called a face. Instead, it was little more than a mess of blood, muscle, bone, and brain matter.

"Any sign of the bullet on your end?" Percy asked, leaning away from the body. Montoya did a quick, cursory scan of the floor but found nothing.

"Chances that we can find anything once we move the car," Percy asked,

"About the same as winning the damn Powerball," said Montoya.

"Think it was someone in the car?" He asked,

"Maybe?" Said Montoya, though she sounded about as skeptical as Percy felt, "But aside from using a miniature cannon, I have no idea what the fuck kind of weapon could of done something like that." She gestured vaguely to the front of Winston, and Percy had to agree.

"Long-range weaponry more like it," Percy suggested, "And in the middle of fucking downtown, no shortage of potential nests." He glanced back at the car, and noticed something more concerning however, was that none of the windows on the car were down and none of them had been shattered. The driver-side window had been cracked slightly, but there was no way that any one could have threaded the needle like that. Looking down into the car again, Percy noticed that there were no glass fragments on the floor, only dust and a still smoking cigarette butt.

"What the hell," he muttered,

"What?" Asked Montoya,

"Look at the windows," he said, gesturing around the car, "None of them are broken, not even so much as a hole in them from the shot."

"Then what the hell are we looking at here?" Asked Montoya, "Look at the position of the body, no way he gets shot in the back of the head and falls like that."

"No sign of a shot in the back of head-rest either," noted Percy, peering into the backseat of the truck. He checked the floor of the vehicle, and didn't find any signs that someone had been back there recently. Furthermore, there wasn't a shell casing back there either.

"Okay, so if it didn't come from the back seat, then it had to have been a long range shot," mused Percy, "But how in the hell?"

"You ever heard of a bullet that can phase in and out of reality like Martian Manhunter?" Groused Montoya,

"Afraid not," said Percy slowly, as he walked back to the driver-side of the car. Taking as much care as possible not to jostle the body, he poked his head into the driver well. Pulling his phone out, he flipped the flashlight on and scanned the underside of the steering wheel. There, just under the ignition was a small hole.

His heart racing, Percy called out to Montoya,

"Got something here!" He popped the hood release of the truck and raced around to the front. Montoya met him on the other side as he hopped up into the engine block.

"What the hell are you doing?" Asked Montoya,

"There's a hole under the ignition," explained Percy, as he shined his flashlight down into the engine.

"I'm hoping that…huh!" He said in confusion as he spotted a flash of something silver-gray tucked underneath a line of tubing.

"You find something?" Asked Montoya,

"Maybe? You got some an evidence bag on you?"

Montoya reached into her coat pocket and withdrew an evidence bag and she passed it into his hands. Reaching into his belt, Percy grabbed his multi-tool out of its holster and pulled the pliers out. Reaching down into the engine, he fumbled around for a few moments before he was able to to wrap the pliers around the object.

"Gotcha!" He cried out. To his surprise, he held a bullet up in his hand as Montoya brought her phone out and snapped a quick picture of the bullet. After dropping the bullet back into the bag and sealing it, he took a closer look at the bullet. It was definitely the right bullet, as it was stained bright red in the blood of Winston. It was unlike any bullet that he had ever seen before. Unlike the traditional copper-color of a lead bullet, but was instead a silver-grey. More curiously, however, he noticed that there was something odd about it. There were strange grooves and indentations on the silver, almost like they had been stenciled on with a chisel.

"What are you looking at?" Asked Montoya, stepping forward, "Bullets aren't supposed to look that,"

"No, no they aren't," said Percy curiously, "Moreover though, look at this." He pointed at the engravings,

"That mean anything?" She asked,

"No idea," said Percy softly, "I would normally say that doing that to the bullet would fuck it to the point of being unshootable, but I guess I'm wrong about that."

"I don't think that's a word,"

"Is now,"

"What the fuck are we dealing with here?" Asked Montoya,

"I got no idea," muttered Percy, still enraptured by the strange bullet. Sighing, he put the evidence bag into his coat pocket, and glanced around the scene, "Think we'll be lucky and grab anything from those cameras?" He asked, pointing at the camera's on the traffic-light over the intersection,

"With out luck," sighed Montoya, "I doubt it,"

"I don't think that we're getting anything more done tonight,"

"Probably not," agreed Montoya,

"Break until tomorrow then," said Percy with an aggrieved sigh, "I'll see you tomorrow Monty,"

"You too Metro," said Montoya as she left the intersection as the CSI van rolled up onto the curb beside the uniformed officers on the scene.

"And give Dinah a call!" Shouted Montoya as she walked away, "She's been worried sick! And ask her out already you pussy!"

Percy didn't get a chance to reply as Montoya disappeared around the corner and back towards her car. Rolling his eyes, Percy decided that she was probably right, at least about talking to Dinah. If nothing else, he owed her, as his friend, to let her know that he was doing okay.

But as he pulled out his phone, he felt the bullet in his pocket and pulled it out as well. He'd never seen anything like that before, and he couldn't help but shudder as a wave of apprehension washed over him.

This was going to get ugly. He knew it.

Notes:

As always shoutout to Double0Sxvxn for being an awesome Beta and dealing with my bullshit and as always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week.

All My Love and see you next week,

LilDB

Chapter 32: Gut Feelings

Percy took a pull from his mug, drawing his coat a little tighter around him. Every time the damn door opened, a draft of cold wind blew into the restaurant. He might have been from New York, but he had spent almost all of his life either on the West Coast, or in the desert. He hated cold weather. He'd hated it in Metropolis and he hated it in Gotham.

He was waiting in the restaurant that Dinah, Montoya and Percy often frequented whenever they got together. Dinah had been quick to answer his call, and had readily agreed to meet up with him.

Another draft of wind blew through the restaurant and Percy looked up in time to catch the eye of Dinah as she shucked off a hefty wool cap and smiled at him. Standing up from the booth, Percy met her at the edge of the booth and embraced her.

"You scared the shit out of me," she said as she wrapped her arms tightly around him,

"Sorry about that," said Percy softly, "Didn't mean to scare you like that,"

She broke the embrace and smiled up at him, "I know that," she pat him on the chest, "Doesn't mean it didn't scare the hell out of me though," She took a step back and shook her jacket off, a dusting of snow falling free from the coat as she tossed the jacket into the corner of the booth. Following her lead, Percy sat back down in the booth.

As he sat down and Dinah perused the drink menu, he noticed that something was a little off about her. She was sitting a little stiffly. Her shoulders were wound tight, and her brow was furrowed. Not in the way she would furrow her brow when she was thinking, but when she was stressed or anxious. She was gripping the menu so tightly that her knuckles were turning white, and her foot tapped an anxious rhythm on the floor.

"Hey," said Percy, "You doing all right?"

"Huh?" Said Dinah, looking up in surprise, her eyes crossed for a moment before refocusing, "Oh, yeah-yeah I'm fine. I'm okay."

"You sure?" Percy asked again, "You just seem a little tense,"

Dinah gave him a shaky smile but nodded, "Yeah, I promise. Just-just a little work-related stress is all. I'm fine, I promise." Then, seemingly realizing something, she reached out and wrapped her hand around his,

"The more important question is how you're doing. I don't know if you're able to talk about what happened, but you know I'm willing to listen if you need me to."

Percy smiled, "I appreciate that, really, but I'm okay. I promise."

"Are you sure?" Asked Dinah,

"I promise," said Percy, "It was bad, yeah, but it was no worse than some of the other situations I've been in."

"If you're sure," said Dinah and retracted her hand from his. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. However, unlike when they normally spent time together, the silence was not comfortable. It was tense, and frigid. Like a heavy weight was sitting over their table.

"Percy," said Dinah softly, "Can-can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," said Percy easily,

"Why…why become a cop? Surely with what you can do-I mean after everything you've done, you'd want to do something a little more peaceful or-or something."

Percy's own brow furrowed in response.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" She bit her lip and fiddled with her hands, "I mean I know you've told me about how things ended in the military…and I know things didn't end well, but after everything that's happened, why continue to live a dangerous life? You're not an inherently violent man, you seem to actually crave peace…so why choose a profession where you continue to use and use violence?"

Percy was a little thrown off by the question,

"Haven't we had this conversation before?"

"I psychoanalyzed you," corrected Dinah, "That's different. I want to hear it from you, in your own words…if that's okay I mean!" She hastily added,

"I don't really know," he conceded, "I guess…ever since I was a kid there's always been this…this sense of duty I guess? Duty to country and to my countrymen has always been really important to me and my family," He leaned back in his seat, pulling his mug a little closer and taking a deeper pull,

"That's part of the reason I went into the service in the first place, you know? Military service is something of a tradition in my family, and I never really saw a place for myself in the world outside of the military. When I was discharged, I didn't really know what else I wanted to do,"

"But you still had this overwhelming sense of duty," concluded Dinah,

"Yeah," shrugged Percy, "And I guess I've always just felt really strongly about justice and what's right and wrong? I don't know, it's not something I can really quantify. Does that make sense?"

"Not really," chuckled Dinah, "But it doesn't really matter if it makes sense to me, as long as it makes sense to you."

"I mean, that's not all," shrugged Percy, "I like the structure it provides me. Which is kind of ironic given the, you know, everything about me,"

Dinah chuckled, she had become privy to Percy disinterest in most authority figures, ironic given his continuous employment.

"I know, I know," laughed Percy, "But I'm serious. I like it. I don't have to think too much about like normal people things with normal jobs. Every day I know to some extent what I'll be doing. I know who I answer to and who I don't. I know that there's going to be stability, which is comforting. I also like feeling like I'm making a positive impact on the world. Opinions on the War on Drugs aside, I've helped put away a lot of dangerous and violent people over the last couple of years. That makes me feel good. It's nice to be able to see a conviction and think to myself, 'yeah, I helped put them away. I made an impact on keeping people safe.' It helps me sleep a little better at night, you know?"

"That makes sense," conceded Dinah, "But even after the stuff that happened at the Asylum? You don't worry about your safety? You don't worry about-about something happening?"

"Of course I have," said Percy, "Kind of impossible not to given everything that has happened. But I guess at this point, I've just gotten over the fear part of it? Like it's not that I'm not afraid of death or anything, but I guess I've just become desensitized to it. Besides, it's not like I actively seek out dangerous situations, but I'm not going to back down from it when shit decides to go down." Percy shrugged and wrapped a hand more tightly around the handle of his mug,

"Besides…it's a dangerous gig but someone has to do it. And if someone has to do it, then I figure that it should at least be someone who can carry the burden. If that means it's me…then I suppose I'm okay with that."

Dinah didn't have anything to say to his final comment, and they fell into an uncomfortable silence. As they sat there, nursing their drinks in silence, Percy was still overcome with the thought that there was something going on with his friend.

He just didn't know what.

---

The following morning, Percy and Montoya walked into the recently re-built evidence labs. The new building was nowhere near as complex and well-designed as the previous building, but it had only been re-built in a matter of months so Percy supposed he had no room to complain. As long there was a place to store and analyze evidence, he was content.

They were greeted by the recently installed new head of the department, Alexandria Moore. A short, squat, Latin woman of around forty years, she had dark brown eyes and equally brown hair that was pulled up into a tight and professional bun on the back of her head.

"Sorry to start your day off on a bad note," said Moore, "But we don't have much for you from that bullet you pulled out of the engine block."

"You know what it's made of at least?" Asked Percy, "The thing should have pancaked the second it impacted the engine block,"

"I do know that," said Moore, "But honestly, it just raises more questions than it answers. The bullet is made of tungsten."

"Tungsten?" Said Montoya, confused, "How the hell did they manage that?"

"No idea," shrugged Moore, "And it sure has hell has been confusing the hell out of us. Though nothing has been more confusing than those damn engravings." She led them over to a large display with the bullet held up between a pair of connecting rods,

"We thought at first that they were an identifying mark, but after closer inspection we started thinking otherwise."

"What do you mean?" Asked Percy, "Wouldn't that screw with the rifling?"

"That's what we thought," said Moore, "But the more we looked at it, the more that we realized that they weren't decorative, the engravings are too deep and they weren't carved in with just anything." She pointed to a screen attached to the display where a three-dimensional image of the bullet was blown up,

"There are plasma burns along the corners of the engravings, meaning that whoever made them used a very high-quality laser of some kind. We can't think of any logistical reason for how or why someone would do that. Like you said Detective, doing that to the bullet should have ruined its ability to fly but clearly that isn't the case."

"Do you have any idea what it was fired out of?" Asked Montoya,

"Not exactly," sighed Moore, "Whatever fired it was chambered for 7.62 but that's about all we know. Find the gun and we'll be able to make a positive match, but given the nature of the bullet we won't have much of anything for you in the way of actually tracking it down."

"All right," said Montoya in exasperation, "How about the security footage from the traffic cams?"

"A whole lot of nothing there too," said Moore directing them away from the bullet and towards another set of computer monitors. She input a number of commands on the keyboard and the nearest terminal came to life as it began to play footage from the intersection. Immediately however, Percy noticed a problem, the direction was all wrong, they weren't looking at the camera footage facing Winston's car but the other side of the intersection.

His fears were soon born out as the footage began to play, they couldn't see anything for a moment and then the black truck raced under the camera and smashed into the apartment building.

"That's it?" Asked Montoya, "What about the other camera?"

"It was broken," said Moore in agitation, though her ire was clearly not directed at the detectives, "Been that way for months apparently and nobody has bothered to petition the city to get it fixed."

"Figures," muttered Percy, as he turned to Montoya, "We're dealing with a pro, aren't we?"

"I was just thinking the same thing," said Montoya, "Either that, or someone got very, very lucky."

"Over-under on anyone admitting that they saw anything?" Asked Percy,

"I told you Metro," said Montoya, "I don't take suckers bets,"

Her phone rang and Montoya fished it out of her pocket,

"Hey Jim, we're just finishing up at the labs before-wait what?" Montoya's brow furrowed in consternation as she listened intently to whatever Gordon was saying,

"All right, we'll head over immediately," said Montoya before ending the call and shoving the phone in her pocket, "Antonio Pelasaro was just found dead in his house out in the 'burbs."

"I'm guessing it's related?" said Percy, as he followed Montoya out of the lab, waving goodbye to Moore on their way out,

"Pelasaro is a Capo for Falcone," said Montoya, "We better hurry, this is going to turn into a zoo."

---

Montoya was right, the scene was a zoo. Antonio Pelasaro lived outside the outskirts of the city, in a quiet neighborhood surrounded by trees and rolling hills. There was quite gathering outside the entrance to the gated community. As Percy followed Montoya through the gate, he recognized a couple of familiar faces. Some of the men gathered outside the gate were part of the group of guys that had tried to jump him a few months previously.

The home itself was the very definition of ostentatious. It was almost as though the architect had taken inspiration from the White House. It was a beautiful Victorian home, with large turrets and pillars presenting the entrance to the mansion.

The crime techs were already on the scene as Percy and Montoya got out of their cars. Percy could see a young Hispanic woman woman speaking with a uniformed officer who was taking her statement. She was clutching tightly at the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and was shaking. whether from the cold or from something was difficult to discern.

"Detectives," called out the familiar voice of Pierce as he jogged over to them,

"What's going on?" Demanded Montoya,

"Cleaning lady found the body this morning," said Pierce, gesturing to the woman in the blanket, "Clean through and through, blew a hole the size of a damn grapefruit through the bastard's skull."

"Show us," said Percy as he and Montoya began putting their booties, gloves, and face-shields on. Pierce led them into the lavish home. The inside was every bit as over-the-top as the outside. Large, ornate staircases lined with elegantly carved marble handrails. A beautiful gold and silver chandelier lined he ceiling, and as Percy gazed around, he could make out several very fine and likely expensive displays of fine art.

"And they say crime doesn't pay," Percy whistled,

"More money in here than I'll probably see in my entire life," agreed Montoya,

"We chose the wrong job, detectives," said Pierce, "C'mon this way."

Pierce led the way through the home and into a very large and expansive kitchen. Percy could see the feet of what had to be Pelasaro poking around the corner of the island, and they had to step carefully as blood had pooled so thoroughly that there was a veritable lake of the life essence spilled along the floor. As they walked, Percy could small paw-prints in the blood. Looking around, he could see in an adjoining room that a large pit-bull was laying in the sitting room, a collar around its neck and a leash held firmly in the grip of a uniformed officer.

Pelasaro was laying facedown on the ground, still dressed only in his sleep robe. A cup of coffee had fallen to the floor and smashed to the ground beside him. Percy looked at the position of the body, and tried his best to judge where he had fallen. Seeing the mess that had become the man's face, Percy had a sinking feeling that he knew precisely what he was dealing with.

"Looking for this?" Said a crime tech walking up to him, and held out a plastic evidence bag for him.

"Yeah, thanks," said Percy, grabbing the bag from the tech. Sure enough, within the bag was another tungsten round.

"Fuck,"

"Took the words right out of my mouth, Monty," sighed Percy has he handed the bag back towards the tech.

"What the hell is going on?" Asked Montoya,

"Hired gun?" Suggested Percy, "One of the families hired a hitman to off members of the family? Or important people to the family?"

"That makes sense, but look around and tell me how this guy," Montoya gestured down at Pelasaro, "Ends up like this without a single window getting blown to all hell or without anyone hearing anything."

"I don't suppose we got lucky and this guy has a security system that proves that someone was in the house?" Asked Percy,

"No dice detective," said a crime tech as they walked through the kitchen, their arms laden with all manner of electronic equipment, "Already went through the security system. No sign of anyone coming in or out beside the victim in the last forty-eight hours. But," he jiggled the equipment in his arms, "We'll go through the video feeds and surveillance data regardless and see if we can find anything for you."

"Thanks," said Percy absently, scratching behind his ear in agitation, "Okay…" he said slowly, looking around the kitchen. There were no signs of any disturbance beyond the dead body in the room. He had a feeling they were dealing with a sharpshooter of some kind, but how the hell were they able to fire through windows and solid surfaces without punching a damn hole through whatever it hit?

His eyes roamed around the room until they landed on the glass door leading out onto a large porch and into a spacious backyard. His brow furrowed in confusion as he noticed a soft breeze blowing through the room, and as he looked more closely at the door, he saw that it was still slightly ajar. Montoya noticed it at the same time as Percy,

"Officer," Montoya called out to the uniform officer holding the leash of the dog, "Why's that door open?" She pointed at the glass door, drawing the attention of the officer and the others in the room.

"It was like that when we got here," said the officer defensively,

"Cleaning lady says that he takes the dog out every morning to shit in the yard," said another officer who had walked into the room, Percy recognized him as the one who had been interviewing the cleaning lady.

Percy and Montoya shared a look as they walked over to it. There was about an inch-wide gap in the door. Leaving just enough space for Percy to stick his finger through.

Or for a bullet to fly through.

"That's insane, Metro," said Montoya, seemingly reading his mind.

"I agree, but I'm not seeing much else here to go on." Said Percy,

"Could have come in through the door, done the job, and left through the same door."

"You and I both know that's bullshit," said Percy, "Whoever we're dealing is a pro, they knew enough to know where and when to shoot Winston so that the cameras on the street didn't see anything, and you saw how many cameras are around the place, you think he would have risked exposure like that? Plus," Percy jerked his head in the direction of the body,

"Anything short of a fucking smoothbore isn't doing something like that to a guy. Unless he came in, held up a fucking 30.06 to the back of his head, and blew his fucking brains to nothing but there's no way any hitman in their right mind would pull something that ballsy."

"Then you're seriously suggesting that someone managed to thin the needle and shoot through that? You get knocked on the head harder than we thought on the island?" Said Montoya,

"Then what do you think we're dealing with?" Asked Percy, crossing his arms over his chest, "Meta?"

"Only thing that makes sense to me," shrugged Montoya, "Some kind of phasing power or something that lets them shift through solid matter? I don't know but it wouldn't be the weirdest thing in the world."

That wasn't wrong necessarily, but Percy couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't dealing with a meta-human. He couldn't articulate why; it was more of just a gut-instinct. But Percy's gut was rarely wrong, and he felt rather confident that his instincts were right about this one. What that meant? He didn't know, but he could already feel a headache begin to throb in his temples as his thoughts raced.

"We should reconvene with Gordon," said Montoya as she stepped away from the body. "Two bodies in as many days? This guy is hunting and it's only a matter of time before he makes his next hit. We need to figure out who we're looking at as potential targets and get details set-up."

Percy refrained from saying that he thought that would be an exercise in futility given everything they had seen thus far.

"Agreed," he said, shooting one last glance at the window and the body.

Montoya was right, this was only the beginning.

---

It was days like today that Percy regretted giving up smoking. Watching as Gordon took a long puff on his pipe made Percy long for a nice, long drag of his own.

"Got this from Bullock earlier this morning," said Gordon, placing a pair of files on his desk that Percy and Montoya reached out and snagged, "It's everything that we have so far on Falcone,"

"Surprised you have this much," Percy mused, "The Feds can't be happy that you're stepping into their turf. Thought they usually handled organized crime cases,"

"In Gotham?" Snorted Gordon, "The Feds haven't tried anything here in years. Not enough resources or the manpower necessary to fix this godforsaken town."

Percy grunted in amusement as his eyes scanned through the contents of the paper. It was a shockingly in-depth analysis and report on the Falcone crime family. There were detailed biographies on capos, lieutenants, wise-guys, known associates, and all of the known business and dealings of the family. Everything from gambling, to faux shell corporations and tax fraud and evasion.

"How the hell did you get all of this, Jim?" Said Montoya, "This is a goldmine,"

"Better question," said Percy, "How come Dent has filed for RICO yet?"

RICO, or the Racketeer Influence and Corrupt Organizations Act was the greatest weapon in the arsenal of law enforcement for tackling organized crime. It made it possible for the government to try not just the lowest drug dealers but the bosses of organized families as a single organization and entity. Percy remembered hearing stories about the feds using the statute to take down the mob in New York.

"We have everything on the small fries," said Gordon gruffly, "But we don't have anything on Falcone himself. We could put most of his boys away but if we can't cut off the head of the snake then there isn't a point."

It was a fair enough point in Percy's opinion. Better to try and get the entire organization in one fell swoop than to just get the wise guys and maybe a couple of capos. Nothing would really change at that point.

"Sounds like a lesson learned the hard way," Percy noted, and Gordon nodded grimly,

"Happened with Christian's father, Salvador. Got nearly the entire damn family on RICO charges but we never had enough on him. Bastard skated on all of the charges,"

A flash of something unrecognizable flashed through his eyes,

"But that's a dangerous life, and you can only ruffle so many feathers before somebody decides to take you off the board. A week after his acquittal, Falcone was gunned down getting into his car by some boys from the Maroni family."

Gordon sighed and tapped out his pipe into the ash tray.

"But don't worry about that for the time being. Your immediate attention needs to be focused on figuring out who the hell this bastard is going to be gunning down next. Mobsters or not, we don't tolerate this kind of vigilantism in this town."

Percy arched an eyebrow at the comment, but Gordon's blazing glare kept Percy from otherwise making a comment.

With their dismissal given, Percy and Montoya strode from the office,

"Looks like this is going to be a long night," grumbled Montoya as the got into the elevator,

"When isn't it a long one," yawned Percy,

"Head to Marty's and get started on this over a pint?" Asked Montoya, but Percy shook his head,

"I'm going to head to the impound lot. I want another look at the car."

Montoya shot him a quizzical look, but shrugged,

"Suits you," she said, as the elevator dinged twice and they stepped out into the lobby, "When you don't find anything feel free to join me at the bar. I got a feeling I'll be there until closing."

"Will do," said Percy, as they left in separate directions. The impound lot was, thankfully, attached to the same complex as the rest of police one and Percy wouldn't be going very far.

Percy spent a fruitless three hours investigating the truck. But no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find anything to indicate where or how someone could have gotten to Winston. The crime techs hadn't found anything in the back seat to indicate that someone had been back there. No footprints, no clothing fibers, dirt, blood that belonged to someone other than Winston, nothing.

Percy was beginning to reach his wits end. The more he thought about the facts, the more he was beginning to believe Montoya that maybe they were dealing with a meta of some kind. But that still didn't sit right with him. If they were dealing with a meta, who in their right mind would use a damned rifle from the inside of the car, or even use a weapon whatsoever. If someone had the ability to blow a man's brains to pieces without leaving a shred of evidence behind, why use a gun at all. Moreover, why go through the effort of constructing specialized, engraved bullets made of tungsten of all things.

It just didn't add up.

After another hour of fruitless searching and thinking, Percy decided that he needed to go about things differently. He needed to take a step back from the investigation of the scenes, and begin looking at the why. He had a rough idea, as did Montoya, why these men in particular were being targeted. They were all known associates of the Falcone crime family. Winston had been their man in the department. Pelasaro had been a capo. Then there were the rumors that the Falcone brothers were beginning to split, but that didn't necessarily mean that it was someone from inside the family who had hired the hitman.

If Percy could figure out who hired the hitman, then they could begin working backwards and figure out who the next potential target would be. Moreover, if they knew more about what they might be dealing with, then they would probably be able to prepare for it.

His decision set, Percy left the impound lot. He needed to go meet with an informant.

It was time to head to a strip club.

Chapter 33: The White Tiger

The White Tiger Dance Club was always busy, even on a Wednesday. Despite the relatively early hour of the evening, there was a line out the door of eager men waiting to find some entertainment for the evening. Percy cut his way to the front of the line, and was pleased to see the bouncer at the door. He had a professional relationship with the man, and after pressing a couple of notes into the man's hand, Percy was let into the club.

Percy hated these kinds of clubs. The smell of cheap beer, sweat and desperation was almost overwhelming. The noise from the subwoofers thumped a painful rhythm into his brain. Clubs like this were a nightmare for people like him. All those bodies shut into an enclosed, difficult to escape space. The flashing lights and bumping music made it difficult to concentrate and it was even more challenging to keep his senses and wits about him.

Pausing to have a whispered conversation with one of the hostesses, Percy was led to the VIP section of the club, before he was settled comfortably in one of the private rooms in the back of the building. Since moving to Gotham, Percy had made an effort to make in-roads with certain populations in the city. Having not grown up in the department in the city, Percy didn't have the kinds of natural inroads with the underworld that Percy had had when he was in Metropolis. But after a couple of months and more than a little effort on his part, Percy had managed to establish a couple of relationships with some prominent members of Gotham's underworld.

Jasmine was one of those connections. Jasmine was a tall Black woman, standing only a few inches shorter than Percy himself when she had her heels on. Her long dark hair was almost always braided into an elegant weave that came to an end around the middle of her back. The door to the room opened, and Jasmine had barely taken one step into the room before she locked eyes with him. Her own brown eyes widened in terror for a moment, before she made to break for the door, but Percy was already up and moving. They had played this little song and dance at least half a dozen times since Percy had started meeting with her.

Releasing a burst of mist-magic, Percy disabled the security feeds in the room and in the blink of an eye he had a hand wrapped around her wrist while he shut the door deftly with the other. With a soft flick of the wrist, Percy locked the door and put on his best smile.

"Hey there Jasmine, long time no talk. How's your mom?"

"Let me out of here Percy, I want nothing to do with you after last time," Jasmine tried to reach around him but Percy effectively managed to lock the door.

"No need to make it sound so bad," said Percy

"Last time, I nearly got jumped by that freak in the top-hat who kept calling me Alice." Snapped Jasmine, "Do I look like that pasty white bitch to you?"

"No you do not," said Percy, pulling free a fresh stack of bills and jamming the wad into her hand, "You look like you want to pay for your mom's meds this month."

A sour expression flickered across Jasmine's face, before she grunted and strode of to the chair usually reserved for clients. Plopping down in the chair, she crossed her legs over one another and glared at him,

"Well?" She asked expectantly, "The fuck you want this time?"

"Just some information," said Percy genially,

"That's always how it starts with you," grumbled Jasmine, "Then the next thing I know, I'm being chased down an alleyway by some lunatic in a fucking top-hat who thinks he's Willy-fucking-Wonka,"

"The Mad Hatter, but good enough," said Percy with a shrug, "You hear about what happened yesterday?"

"Gonna need to be a little more specific," snarked Jasmine, "Lot's of stuff happened yesterday,"

"All right," said Percy, "Did you hear about cop who was shot, yesterday. The lieutenant of a precinct?"

Jasmine stiffened in her chair, but shook her head,

"Nope," she said, unconvincingly, "Didn't hear 'nothin about that."

"You're a terrible liar Jasmine," snorted Percy, as he tossed another bill at her, "Try again,"

"Fine, I heard about it. Pig gets whacked and what, you expect me to feel sorry about it?"

"No," said Percy, "I expect you to know something about why he was shot,"

"Someone needs a reason to shoot a cop?"

"Don't be a wise-ass," said Percy, "You and I both know he was connected to Falcone. I want to know why Falcone wanted him dead."

"I ain't talking about that," said Jasmine, "Hell no, you are not dropping me into that fucking beehive."

"What beehive?" Asked Percy,

"You know damn well what beehive," snapped Jasmine, getting up out of the chair and began making her way to the door.

Percy sighed, he hadn't wanted to resort to the mist, but he wasn't going to get anything more out Jasmine, freaked out as she was.

"Stop," ordered Percy, waving his hand in front of her face. Her eyes went for for a moment, before they drooped as a dazed look fell over he face.

"Sit back down, please," said Percy, and Jasmine did as asked, sitting back down in the chair.

"Talk to me about the Falcone's, what have you been hearing?"

"Not much," said Jasmine, her voice coming out in a low monotone. "The Falcone boys haven't been coming in as often as they used to. Something about a split in the family, but that's all I know."

"How bad is it?"

"Bad enough that Jr. has stopped talking to his brother completely. A couple of the bars on the east side have stopped serving Christian's boys entirely and Rossi's Garbage collection has been having issues with the union."

Percy nodded, and filed that information away for later.

"Any of the boys in recently?"

"A couple of days ago," said Jasmine,

"Did you hear anything about what happened to Winston last night?"

"Not directly," said Jasmine,

"What did they say?" Asked Percy, doing his best to bury his mounting agitation. He forgot how obnoxiously literal he needed to be when interviewing using the mist.

"They talked about how some new guy had been hired to take care of a couple of problems for the family. A professional,"

"Did you hear a name?"

"No I did not,"

"Of course not," muttered Percy, massaging the bridge of his nose, "Because that would be making my life entirely too easy." He sighed and composed himself, "Okay, tell me everything relevant to that conversation,"

"They did not say much," said Jasmine, "Only that whoever it was that was hired had a reputation. They are highly trained and highly skilled, and they have already killed three people."

"Wait what?" Said Percy, "Three? Who is the third?"

"I do not know, I only know that three people have been killed,"

"Fuck!" Growled Percy, turning around and scratching behind his ear. He shot a quick text off to Montoya that they needed to start looking for a third body, not that such a warning would amount to much of anything. They didn't even know who they were looking for, but still. It would be better than nothing. Percy decided he needed to change tactics, and went back to Winston.

"What do you know about what happened to Winston? Why did Falcone want him dead?"

"No idea," said Jasmine, and Percy nearly punched a hole in the wall out of frustration, "The other men didn't know what why he was killed either. As far as they knew, Winston was still in good graces with Falcone."

That was…interesting. It wasn't much, but it was still more than he had before-hand. He didn't think that he would be getting anything more out of Jasmine. Slipping a few more notes into her hand. Percy snapped his fingers and left the room. As he strode out of the Club, he reached into his pocket and gave Montoya a call,

"What the fuck did you find out?" Asked Montoya, "A third fucking body?"

"Apparently; she didn't know who it was only that there was a third body."

"Fuck me, anything else?"

"No," said Percy, "But I was hoping you might know where to find Bullock,"

"That old drunk? The fuck you want to talk to him for?"

"Gordon said he was the lead on the Falcone investigation, I want to pick his brain a little. If we can figure out who the big dogs are, then we can hopefully figure out who we need to focus our attentions on more."

"That makes sense," sighed Montoya, "Knowing him? You can find him at O'Malley's."

"Thanks, I'll tell you what I find out in the morning."

Percy ended the call, and made his way back to his car.

If nothing else, he could at least get a drink. Gods knew he needed one.

He was nearly back at his car when he felt it. The sudden shifting in the wind, the way the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end as goose-pimples ran up and down the backs of his arms. While it was cold out, the reaction had nothing to do with the wintery chill in the air.

He had always been naturally more attune with his father's domains than he let on, and his father controlled far more than the sea and the earth. His father was not revered as the God of Storms for no reason. He felt it, cutting through the air in his direction, just as he put his hand on the door-handle to his car. Felt it hack a deadly streak through wind and snow in his direction. His mind went numb as adrenaline surged through him and his body reacted on instinct alone, preserving his life. He dropped to the sidewalk, a bubble of water materializing around him just in time for something to slam into the top of his shield a moment later. The projectile lost all momentum as it hit the water, and floated lazily down before resting in the palm of his hand.

In the distance, the reverberating crack of a rifle echoed through the chilly night.

A moment later, another projectile slammed into his bubble, bursting the window of his car in the process. Percy fell to the ground, still covered by his bubble and crawled as quickly as he was able underneath the axels of his car. Simultaneously drawing on the water in the air and snow around him to create a natural camouflage, that made him all but invisible to the human eye.

Breathing heavily, his pistol drawn and held tight to his chest, he expanded his senses around him in the hoped of finding his assailant, but to no avail. In a city like Gotham, and with as many people as there were around him, it was an exercise in futility. He would have had better luck trying to a needle in a stack of needles.

He didn't know how long he sat there, hiding beneath the underside of his car. Could have been ten minutes, it could have three hours. But Percy could be a patient man when he needed to be, and so he did not move. He hardly breathed. And he kept his rigid posture for as long as dared. Reaching out to his left, he wrapped a hand around piece of shattered glass from his window and drew it close to him. Using the glass as a mirror, he slowly snaked the glass to and from, scanning the rooftops of the surrounding buildings, but he never saw a thing.

His heart still hammering in his chest, and with his shield and camouflage still up, he carefully rolled out from under the car, making sure to keep the car between himself and where the shot had been fired. He scanned the skyline once more, but did not see his adversary, or any sign of hostile movement. Deciding to risk it, Percy let the camouflage and shield drop, and allowed himself to appear vulnerable for several, agonizing minutes. However nothing more happened. Whoever the shooter had been, either believed they gotten him or had bowed out to try again another day. Panting heavily, Percy dashed from the edge of the car into the total darkness of a nearby alleyway. When he was certain that he was no longer in the sights of anyone, he finally allowed himself to begin calming down.

Collapsing against the side of the wall, he took a deep inhale of breath. Well…at least that confirmed that he had made it onto Falcone's shit-list. That amounted to…something he supposed.

Feeling a strange weight still clutched in his hand, Percy re-holstered his weapon and inspected the projectile he had caught in his bubble. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he stared down at the tungsten bullet resting against his palm.

"If that's how you want to play it smartass," Percy growled, "Then let's fucking play." Whoever the bastard was, Percy was now personally invested in seeing the bastard locked up.

With renewed vigor for the case, Percy went back to his car. After applying a minor rune to fix the damage to the window, Percy got into his car and revved the engine to life.

It was high time he paid Bullock a visit, and got some answers to his many questions.

---

Unlike the White Tiger, O'Malley's was blessedly empty, save for the bulky frame of Bullock sitting alone at the corner of the bar.

Sliding into the seat beside him, Percy gestured for the bartender to pour him something from the tap.

"The hell are you doing here, Jackson?" Asked Bullock,

"Needed to pick your brain a little," said Percy,

"Of course it's about fucking Falcone," groused Bullock, "Because apparently that's all I'm good for these days," he sighed and downed the remnants of his tumbler and waved to the bartender to refill him while gesturing for Percy to ask his question.

"What's going on between Christian and Sal?" Asked Percy,

"This have anything to do with what happened to Winston?" Asked Bullock as the bartender refilled his tumbler,

"Yeah," said Percy, "Just spoke to an informant, and got confirmation that someone in the family hired a hitman who has been very busy the last couple of days."

"Besides Winston who else is dead?"

"Pelasro as far as we know, and an as of yet unidentified third person,"

Bullock let out a low whistle, "Damn, that's a hell of a hit. But it sounds like Christian is trying to clear the board."

"Pelasaro was one of Sal's then?" Asked Percy,

"From what I've been able to figure out, yeah," nodded Bullock as he tipped his tumbler back and drained another hearty gulp, "Pelasaro was heavy in the book-keeping and horse-racing. It's how his old man made his money for the family too but Pelasaro took it to another level. He and Sal have been friends since they were kids so I guess I'm not surprised. If Christian is serious about the split, then it makes sense that Christian would target him first."

"What caused the split in the first place?" Asked Percy, and Bullock shrugged,

"No idea. I know there was a disagreement between the two about getting into the drug trade, but that isn't something in my experience that leads to a fracture like what we're seeing."

"Any idea who we might want to look at next?" Asked Percy,

"I'd get a detail on Rossi," said Bullock, "Aside from Pelasaro, Luka Rossi was one of the big makers that was in Sal's little circle of friends. If Christian wanted to splinter things even worse, then he would go after him next."

He frowned, and worried at his lip for a moment, "Come to think of it, I haven't heard or seen him in a couple of days…" He and Percy shared a meaningful look, and Percy slammed a wad of cash down on the bar as Bullock rose from his chair,

"Tab's on me," Percy called to the bartender who nodded in appreciation at him, as Percy and Bullock strode from the bar, Percy pulled out his phone and rang up Montoya,

"Bullock and I have a lead on something," he said before she could speak, "You know where Luka Rossi lives?"

"Yeah?" Said Montoya, "We meeting up there?"

"Yeah, Bullock and I are on our way now,"

"Meet you there," and the line clicked dead.

"Get in," said Percy to Bullock as they approached his car, and Bullock didn't argue.

Turning on his sirens, Percy and Bullock raced from the city as Bullock directed Percy out to the suburbs. It was a thirty-minute drive to the house. Much like Pelasaro's house, Rossi's home was in the rolling hills outside the outskirts of the city. Montoya pulled up alongside them at the same time and the three got out and were racing towards the front door.

"The fuck is going on?" Asked Montoya, "Why are we here?"

"Rossi hasn't been seen in a couple of days," said Percy, "And Bullock says that he's in Sal's camp and Christian is trying to clear the board."

"Fuck, okay then" said Montoya as she pulled her side-arm free. Percy and Bullock did the same as they approached the door. Montoya and Bullock stacked up on either side of the door, as Percy approached and wrapped a heavy hand on the side of the door.

"Mr. Rossi, GCPD if you're there please open up!" Percy announced. He waited a couple of seconds before he slammed another set of knocks onto the door. Once again, there was no reply.

"Check the perimeter," Percy ordered as they cleared away from the door and they began walking around the perimeter of the home. The backyard and perimeter of the home was surrounded by a large fence, luckily the fence was only a couple of feet high and Percy was able to see over the fence and into the large backyard.

The backyard was mostly empty with the exception of a few scattering of trees and a small pond in the center. As Percy peered through the darkness, he thought he could see a strange shape in the pond. It was too dark and too far to see, so Percy reached out with his senses and tried to feel the pond. He could feel something, a foreign entity was sitting at the edge of the pond.

His stomach sinking, he reached down to his belt and pulled free his flashlight. Flicking it on, he pointed the light in the direction of the pond, which illuminated the smooth surface of the water. As he scanned up and down, he caught sight of a what was unmistakably a human body laying in the grass.

"Body!" Percy called out, as he hopped over the fence in a smooth motion and took off at a run in the direction of the pond. He was shining the light across the grass in the hopes that he didn't accidentally step on something important. But it was ultimately a fruitless exercise, and within a matter of seconds Percy was kneeling beside the pond and shining the light over the pond. As had been the case with the last several murders, the man's face had been damn near blown off from the force of the shot.

"Goddammit," panted Bullock as he came to a meandering stop beside Percy.

Percy could hear Montoya speaking in the background to someone over the phone, likely speaking to central dispatch and calling in the calvary, but Percy's attention was focused elsewhere. He was scanning through the tree-line. At this point, he was all but certain that they were dealing with a professional sharpshooter. Someone who had been professionally trained. As he scanned the trees, he had an idea as the light from his flashlight reflected over the top of a hill about a mile and a half away from the house. He traced the line from the body, judging the direction it had fallen and traced it back towards the forest. Using his best judgement, he made a rough

"I'll be right back," said Percy, standing abruptly and walking off in the direction of the nearby forest. Bullock said something, but Percy didn't hear him as he began to traipse through the forest. He didn't know how long he walked for as he climbed a steady slope up the side of the gradual hill before eventually climbing through the tree-line and into a small clearing. Shining his flashlight on the ground, Percy found what he was looking for.

In the middle of the clearing was an indentation in the grass. The indentation of a body. As Percy skirted around the edge of the indentation, he began to scan through the grass, but his search ended fruitlessly. He had been hoping to find spent brass in the grass but he should have known better. Changing tactics, Percy stepped in front of the grass indentation and knelt down, taking care not to disrupt too much of the grass.

Reaching into his belt once more, he pulled free a pair of binoculars and began scanning through the trees. He was unsurprised to see that there would have been a semi-clear shot through the trees and into the backyard of Rossi's home. It would have been a damned difficult shot, but if Percy's mounting suspicions were correct, then this guy would have been able to make it.

Sighing in defeat, he pulled his phone free from his pocket and gave Montoya a call.

It was going to be another very long day.

---

After a very long morning on the scene and canvassing the entire forrest debriefing back with Gordon, Percy and Montoya had once more gone their separate ways in order to divide and conquer. Montoya had finally gotten the witness list for the Winston murder and Percy wanted to take another look at the Pelasaro house. He had a funny feeling that he would find something similar to the situation he had found at Rossi's home.

Stepping into the Pelasaro mansion, Percy made his way back to kitchen. The blood had since been cleaned up, but there were still evidence markers lining the floor where Pelasaro's body had been lying dead. Trying to find the correct angle that Pelasaro would have been standing at when he had been shot, Percy turned and tried to look back at where the shot had been taken. Looking back at the door, Percy was unsurprised to see that there was a clear line of sight between the opening of the doorway and where Pelasaro had been shot. Retracing his steps, Percy walked to the door and opened it, walking out on the large deck overlooking the backyard.

However he was soon frustrated as he looked out and saw that the line of sight of frustrated by the building neighboring the backyard. Walking up to the railing, Percy tried to see where or how the shot could have been made. But as he looked, he didn't see a way for the shot to be made without it going through the building itself. While the shooter had made it clear that they were capable of making impossible shots, Percy was all but certain that that would be an impossibility.

Growling in frustration, Percy sighed and leaned agains the railing. There was a flash of something out of the corner of his eye, reflecting off of the sun streaming down. Turning his head, Percy frowned. There was a strange metallic object leaning agains the rail post of the stairs leading down into the backyard. There was something strange about the metallic object that drew his attention more fully, and he got up and walked over. Leaning down on the porch, he examined it.

It was a steel plate, that looked for all intents and purposes like an improperly disposed of piece of scrap metal. As Percy ran his fingers along the metal, the brushed over a scratched section of the metal.

"You've got to be shitting me," he muttered to himself, as he turned around he looked behind him at the door. That was impossible. It was a ludicrous assumption, but Percy had seen the impossible before and he wasn't beyond ruling it out.

Drawing a line from the marking to the door, he was bitterly unsurprised to find that it was almost a perfectly straight line between the piece of metal and the door. Turning back to the metal, he then drew a line from the metal out to the forrest behind the backyard. Making a rough approximation between the metal and what Percy judged to be the right angle needed for the bullet to have deflected from the metal and through the gap in the door.

Sighing, Percy stood from the porch, and began the long walk from the porch to the forrest. He walked for nearly an hour, his progress slow and deliberate as he carved a careful trail.

Finally, however, he broke through the foliage and emerged on the small incline of a grassy hill.

And there was the indentation.

Just like at Rossi's, there was an indentation in the grass. Equally like Rossi's, Percy found nothing of value in the grass beyond the indentation. Taking his phone out, he shot a picture before sending the picture to Montoya. Then, he crouched down in front of the indentation and took a peek through his binoculars. There, through the trees, he could only just make out the glimmering piece of metal resting against the side of the porch.

He lowered his binoculars and let out a soft breath. He didn't know of anyone on the planet capable of ricocheting a bullet onto a live target like that. He needed more help on this one. Pulling his phone back, Percy searched through his contacts for a bit before finding the desired number.

"Hello?" Answered a deep voice after the third ring,

"Ogami?" Asked, Percy, "It's Percy Jackson, how you doing?"

"Jackson?" Said Ogami, sounding genuinely surprised, "How the fuck did you get my number,"

"Magic," snarked Percy, "Listen, you still in Gotham? I'm a detective with GCPD and I need some advice on…a strange one."

Ogami hesitated for a moment, before grunting in resignation.

"You know where Legends is?" He asked and Percy thought for a minute, "The VFW bar on Seventh?"

"That's the one, meet me there in an hour." Ogami hung up the call without another word. Percy sighed as he pocketed the phone. He shouldn't have been surprised by the curt response. Given his reputation in the service after what happened in Biyalya, it was to be expected.

It was a long run back to his car and a longer drive back to the city. He had no doubt that if he was late, Ogami wouldn't hesitate to leave either. With one last glance at the indentation in the grass, Percy turned on his heel, and began the long run back to his car.

Notes:

AN: Publishing early as a birthday present to MethWishes and because I won't really be near my computer for Thanksgiving. As always shoutout to Double0Sxvxn for being an awesome Beta and dealing with my bullshit and as always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week.

All My Love and see you next week,

LilDB

Chapter 34: Deadshot

This inside of Legends was like just about any other VFW bar Percy had been in. Old photographs of men and woman from all over the globe, fighting on any number of continents. Old flags, scarred with the effects of battles or trophies from various theaters of combat.

There were only a handful of patrons in the bar, not unexpected given that it was barely past noon, but that served Percy just fine. He grabbed a table in the corner of the room, but near enough to the door that Ogami would see him as he came in. Percy had only been seated long enough to order a pair of draft beers from the host before Ogami walked through the door. A tall Black man, a few inches taller than Percy himself and built like a house, Ogami cut an impressive figure. The sun shone off of his bald head, and his dark brown eyes met Percy's before he made a beeline for him.

Ogami had been in the teams with Percy, though he had been running with a different team than Percy. But, they had worked together a handful of times, and Percy knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from helping, in spite of his own reservations about Percy.

"Thanks for meeting with me, Ogami," said Percy meaningfully, only to receive a mild grunt in response. Percy bit back an exasperated sigh. He wasn't surprised by the response. Percy had garnered a reputation after the botched mission in Biyalya. His entire team had been very publicly executed, but Percy had somehow managed to worm his way out.

The only survivor.

There had been a lot of questions about what happened, and while Percy had been eventually cleared, his reputation had been stained forever. Percy couldn't blame the other teams. Had he been in their shoes, had watched as an entire team save for one man had been publicly murdered, he would have had his suspicions as well.

But he needed answers. Knowing that Ogami wasn't going to be feeling very talkative, Percy reached into his pocket and withdrew the bullet that had been shot at him the previous night.

"I'm investigating an ongoing murder spree," explained Percy rolling the bullet onto the table. "I have three bodies so far. Each one has had their brains blown to pieces with one of these. Each shot, seemingly more improbable or impossible than the last. Was hoping maybe you'd be able to give me something on whoever would shoot something like this."

Ogami was staring at the bullet, his eyes wide. Reaching down he wrapped his long fingers around the bullet and brought it up to his eyes to investigate it further.

"Damn," he muttered, "Was hoping I'd never have to another one of these damn things again,"

"You've seen these before?" Asked Percy, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

Ogami nodded, his face solemn, "Yeah…yeah I recognize this." He sighed and rolled the bullet back to Percy, "And unfortunately, I know damn well who it is you're looking for."

"And?" Prompted Percy,

"Goes by the name Deadshot. No idea what his actual name is, but he calls himself the best marksman in the world. Always hits his target, never misses, regardless of how difficult the shot."

Percy, who had since brought his notepad out wrote down a quick series of notes. "You said you ran into him before?"

"Back in '08," said Ogami, "We were pulling a defector out of North Rhelasia. We thought we had gotten out clean, right up until that smug son of a bitch rolled up on us." His fists clenched tightly as his jaw locked,

"You remember Connolly?"

"Yeah," nodded Percy, "Came out of the same BUD/S class. He was good people,"

"He was," agreed Ogami, "Up until that bastard shot clean through him to kill the defector. We didn't even know what had happened. One minute, we were bunkered down in this building on the outskirts of the DMZ waiting for our pickup, the next thing we know Connolly's bleeding out on the floor and the defector's head looked like he'd spent a night with Gallagher."

His lips tightened into a snarl, "There was a fucking hole in the wall, barely the size of a damned nickel, and that son of a bitch had managed to shoot through it, through Connolly, and into the defector."

"Fucking hell," muttered Percy, leaning back into his chair as he ran a hand through his hair,

"Gets better," grimaced Ogami, lowering the collar of his shirt to show off a mess of contoured flesh and scars just under his collarbone. "Bastard wasn't satisfied with taking down just the defector, he wanted to make sure that the rest of us were down for the count too. It was nothing short of a fucking miracle that we got out of there in one piece."

He looked down at his hands as he let go of his shirt,

"For the most part, anyways."

"Jackson," said Ogami, his eyes flashing dangerously, "If this guy is in Gotham, then you might as well kiss whoever it is this guy is after goodbye." Percy finished jotting down a few notes, before throwing a wad of cash on the table and standing up,

"I'll be the judge of that,"

---

Percy had taken the information he had gotten back to Montoya, who had brought Bullock into the fold. Given his expansive knowledge and close proximity to the Falcone investigation, it was the logical decision and Percy didn't question it.

After running the name Deadshot through a few federal databases, they were able to get their hands on a semi-complete file on Deadshot, otherwise known as Floyd Lawton.

Lawton was a career hitman. His total kill-count wasn't known, but it was believed that it was easily in the triple digits. He had taken contracts all over the globe, and his M.O. was getting to his targets in ways that no one else would have been able to. If someone needed an impossible shot to be made, then they hired Deadshot.

Given what he had managed to do in Gotham, Percy wasn't surprised.

"We need a list of potential victims," said Montoya as she shuffled through a stack of papers on her desk, "If we figure out who he's after next, we can probably cut him off before he gets too close."

"I just can't figure out why the hell Winston was targeted," said Percy gruffly as he looked through a stack of files on various Falcone family Capos. "I mean, I get the other guys, they were friends of Salvador, and they were running profitable operations for the family, but why go after Winston? What sense does that make?"

"It doesn't," grunted Bullock, "But when it comes to these types, there isn't any sense to 'em."

"Helpful, Harvey," muttered Montoya, "Don't stress too much about it, Metro. Let's just focus on what we know for sure. We know that Lawton is going to be going after important people in Sal's circle." She held up a picture of a young man, "Antonio Guile?"

"Works the construction jobs for the family," said Bullock, "His old man was a capo, but jr. there never could cut it like his dad. Never really lived up to the hype, but was kept close because he and Sal were friends when they were kids. I'd put good money on him being on the list too."

"Any chances that he might go after Sal himself?" Asked Percy, "I mean, if we're thinking strictly pragmatically then wouldn't it make the most sense to just off him? The entire thing would probably die with him that way."

"Sal and Christian might be pissed at each other right now, but there's no way that Christian would order the death of his own brother," said Bullock,

"At the end of the day, family is everything to these people. Add Guiles to the list, make him a high-priority. If Christian gets his hands on the construction company, then he effectively owns the biggest money makers and money laundering operations for the family." He fished around in his own stack for a few moments before holding up another stack of names,

"I'd also say we put details on Mark Colombo, Frank Espisito, and Lorenzo Bianchi. All three are prominent members of the family and old friends of Sal. I'd be willing to bet my salary that they're on the list in one form or another."

Percy jotted the note down on the table, and let out an aggrieved breath,

"This is going to be impossible to keep quiet," he observed, "If he sees us putting this much of a police presence on the targets, what's to say that he doesn't just tuck and run?"

"Given that this guy is supposed to be some kind of all-time badass?" Said Bullock with a snort, "I'd say it doesn't matter too much. You said this guy somehow managed to ricochet a fucking bullet through an inch-wide gap in a doorway. I don't think he's going to be worried about a bunch of cops around his targets,"

Bullock scoffed and shook his, "Can't believe that we're actually going out of our way to protect these bastards," he spat, "We might be better off just letting them kill each other. Save us the headache."

"Don't go there Harvey," said Montoya warningly,

"Oh come on Renee," scoffed Bullock, "Don't tell me that you aren't thinking the same thing,"

"You think I like this, Harvey?" Demanded Montoya, slamming her stack of files on the table angrily. Loose pieces of paper shot into the air as they were disturbed,

"I grew up here, Harvey, I was there when Chris and Sal's old man was still running things! When the Falcone and Maroni families were killing each other in the streets. My fucking dad was shot because of those bastards, you really think I enjoy the idea of trying to keep these bastards alive?"

"Jesus Renee, calm down," said Bullock placatingly, pulling a loose cigar from his pocket and chomping on the end of it nervously, "I was just saying is all,"

"We don't get to pick the victims," said Percy bitterly, "Murderous shit or not, we don't get to decide who lives or who dies and we don't get the choice of sitting idly by while someone else decides to take matters into their own hands." Percy threw his own files on the table and took a tired sip from his mug of stale coffee,

"Besides, it's hardly like he's doing us a favor. Bastard is a hired gun. Nothing more, nothing less. He makes his living in blood, of killing potentially innocent people for the highest bidder. If it helps, don't think about it as protecting Falcone's boys, but protecting all the potential future victims of this freak."

Bullock didn't have anything to say, and Percy clicked his tongue in annoyance,

"Now that we're all on the same page," said Percy, "Let's get to work."

---

Percy ducked under another tree branch, doing his best to step quietly and not to disturb more than he absolutely had to. The hour was late, well past midnight, and Percy had only just been relieved by the overnight watch. He had been assigned to detail over Guiles, and for the next gods only knew how many days, Percy would be acting as the man's veritable shadow. However, Percy had a feeling he knew how things would play out, and had decided that he had had enough of playing on the back foot and the time was right to begin playing a little more offensively.

For the last several hours, Percy had been hiking through the forest behind Guiles' home. Much like the other prominent members of the family, Guiles lived in the suburbs, only a couple of miles away from where the other men had been killed. Percy thought he had a good idea how things would play out. Deadshot had proven that he was nothing if not a creature of habit, and thorough.

So, Percy had spent the last several hours scouring the woods all over the neighborhood, looking for any and every potential sniper's nest that Deadshot would potentially use. In each spot, Percy laid down a series of the same seal arrays that he had used to track Megan several months ago. They would alert him whenever someone had stepped into the clearing, and Percy would be able to arrive to that point simultaneously. It meant that he would be required to vapor-travel, but given that Deadshot had already killed three men, and had tried to kill Percy, Percy was willing to sacrifice his ideals in the name of putting the bastard down.

Even if it pissed him off.

It was potentially a long shot, but Percy was working with less than nothing and he would work with what he could. As he finished setting up the last set of arrays, he could only hope that this would be enough.

With his work done, Percy slipped back into the forest, and prepared to bide his time.

---

Christmas came and went with nothing to show for it. There had been no additional murders. No new attacks, and Percy and Montoya had begun to think that maybe Deadshot had only been assigned to kill the three men he had, and had already left the country. However, after checking with the tollways, train stations, ferries and airports, there had been no indication that Floyd Lawton or even anyone looking like him had left the city.

Percy was convinced that he was still in the city, though Montoya had her doubts. But in spite of her reservations, they had stayed on top of their protective details. Percy had followed Guiles everywhere he went, only pausing every couple of hours to swap sleep shifts with a couple of uniformed officers.

It was boring, tedious work, but Percy could be a patient man when he wanted to be.

The snow was falling softly that New Year's Eve night, as Percy sat in his patrol car outside the home of Antonio Guiles. He was hosting a party that evening in which Salvador Falcone would be in attendance. It was still early in the evening, but there were already a large number of cars and attendants inside the home.

Stifling a yawn, Percy poured more coffee from his thermos into the lid and tipped it back. It was stale and cold, and his legs had grown stiff after staying in the cramped confines of his car for the last six hours. Groaning in agitation, he twisted his neck to the side and enjoyed the way it popped. He was just about to pour himself another lid full of coffee when a jolt of energy coursed through his chest. His coffee landed in the cup holder with a slam, coffee sloshing over the lid and spilling onto the console but Percy didn't even notice.

One of his alarms had just gone off.

He was out of his car with his phone in his hand and taking off at a dead sprint down the street. Montoya answered after the first ring.

"I need every available unit at Guiles' right now!" Said Percy as he dashed into the trees in preparation for his vapor travel,

"You see something?" Asked Montoya, as Percy heard her engine roar to life in the background,

"Just get here!" Thundered Percy as he ended the call and withdrew his side-arm. Snow flurried around his feet and he disappeared in a flash of water vapor as he travelled toward where his trap had gone off. He landed in the trees a few meters away from the clearing. He could see a dark shape lying in the snow and Percy brought his side-arm level as he approached quickly. Knowing he wouldn't have much time, he didn't waste any more trying to be subtle.

As he burst through the clearing, Percy got his first look at Deadshot. He was dressed head to toe in a red, heavily armored jumpsuit. His face was covered in an equally armored face mask and Percy could make out some kind of device covering where his right eye should have been.

"Police! Drop your weapon!"

Almost faster than Percy's body could react, Deadshot had whipped onto his back and was firing in Percy's direction. However, Percy's body was naturally faster. He dove out of the way of the rounds just as they ripped into the trees behind where he had been standing a moment before. Brining his pistol up he let off a flurry of his own shots, but Deadshot rolled out of the way.

Percy was forced to duck behind the cover of a nearby rock as more shots whizzed overhead. Knowing that the rock wouldn't serve as feasible protection against the kind of armament that Deadshot was packing, Percy swiveled and fired off another volley forcing Deadshot to seek his own cover. Using the distraction to his advantage, Percy dashed into the trees, diving into the safety of the darkness created by the night and shadowy branches.

"I was hoping it would be you," called out Deadshot, his voice modulated and distorted as Percy ejected his spent magazine and slammed a new one home and racked a round.

"You're on my list you know. Got a hell of a price on your head, and I've been intending to collect."

Percy was forced to duck to the ground as rounds slammed into the tree he'd been hiding behind.

"I can count the number of people who have managed to dodge my shots on one hand," said Deadshot, as Percy scrambled out of the way of another flurry of shots.

"Congratulations on getting yourself on the list. I don't know how you managed to do it, but you should know that I don't miss twice."

"Pretty sure you've missed more than twice in the last five minutes," Percy shot back.

Growling in aggregation, he summoned a blanket of snow from the ground and wrapped it around himself creating his divine form of camouflage. Whatever that thing on his head was, Percy was certain that it was capable of night-vision or thermals, probably both. But Percy highly doubted that it was capable of tracking magical energy. Loathe as he was to use his powers, he didn't have much choice in the matter.

"That's a neat little trick of yours," snarled Deadshot in frustration as he let loose another flurry of shots where Percy had ice been. However, Percy had not been idle, and as soon as he had gone dark, he had begun making his way towards Deadshot.

"I don't know how you disappear like that, but it doesn't matter. In the end, I always get my man!"

Percy ignored him; he was focused on counting the number of rounds that had been fired. Judging by the size of the rifle, and the magazine Percy had seen, he deduced that Deadshot only had a handful of rounds left. When he was forced to reload, Percy would make his move.

Less than a second later, two more shots cracked through the forest and Percy raced forward. Deadshot was in the middle of replacing his empty magazine as Percy dropped his camouflage and tackled him to the ground. The rifle clattered uselessly into the snow as Percy wrestled with the large man. Deadshot might have been strong, but Percy was stronger. Maneuvering onto his back as he wrapped an arm around Deadshot's neck and pinned his leg's with Percy's own, as he tried to force him into a submission hold.

It would have been a simple matter to kill him then and there, but Percy wanted the man brought in alive. They had questions that only he would be able to answer.

Percy grunted as Deadshot leveled an elbow into Percy's solar plexus, but Percy's grip remained true as he slowly began to increase pressure around the man's neck. He was taking care not to use too much strength and only to choke him enough to knock him out. However, Deadshot was equally quick-witted. A knife appearing from a hidden sheath on his arm, and he jerked his arm up and, to Percy's immense surprise and pain, stabbed through his own shoulder and into Percy's chest.

Percy let out a gasp of pain as his grip slackened on Deadshot, which gave the man the advantage he needed. Slamming his head into Percy, who felt his nose crunch painfully as it was broken, his head slammed into the snow and hardened ground as Deadshot scrambled to break free.

Fighting through the pain and the way the world was spinning, Percy's arm shot out and snagged the back of Deadshot's belt. Pulling Deadshot back to him as Percy leapt to his feet, threw a punch into the kidney of Deadshot, who doubled over in pain. He swung a fist wildly behind him, as a strange contraption on his arm roared to life as bullets ripped through the air. Percy grabbed onto the arm, forcing the bullets into the snow. With a hefty roar, Percy wrapped a hand over the contraption and ripped it free from Deadshot's arm.

Deadshot spun, trying to bring his other wrist-mounted weapon on Percy, but Percy caught that arm as well and kept it at bay. Deadshot, still doubled over, howled in pain as Percy brought his knee up to Deadshot's jaw. Stumbling back, Percy reared back a fist and threw a blow into Deadshot's dazed temple. The man crumpled to the ground, his body limp. Percy, still acting almost exclusively on adrenaline, jumped on the body. Ripping the other wrist-mounted weapon from him. He grabbed a pair of handcuffs and quickly restrained the unconscious man.

Breathing heavily, the endorphin high slowly seeing away from him, he realized with a start that he had used too much strength in his last blow. Panicking, her ripped Deadshot's mask off his face and placed his fingers on the pulse-point of his neck. He let out a sigh of relief as he felt a pulse. He then checked the man's neck, and using his rudimentary understanding of anatomy that he had been taught he couldn't find a point in the man's neck to indicate it was broken in any way.

Satisfied that he hadn't killed or paralyzed the man. Percy set about searching him and stripping him of any and all armaments that he could find. The mundane activity gave Percy an opportunity to think over what Deadshot had said. There was apparently a price on his head, and Deadshot had been on his "list," whatever that meant. That just left the important question of who put the price there? Had it been Falcone, or was it the Shadows? He didn't think it was Falcone. Percy wouldn't have put it past the man to put a contract out on him, but given the way Deadshot had said it, it led Percy to believe that Deadshot had not been ordered by Falcone to kill him.

No, it seemed far more likely that the Shadows would have been the ones to put out the hit. Judging from what little Percy knew about the organization, it seemed to be on brand for them. But that led to a more worrying question. If Deadshot had failed…

Who was going to come after him next?

---

The doors to the throne room closed behind her, and she approached the center of the room. The hour was early, with the first vestiges of sunrise peeking out from behind the distant mountains. There was but a single soul in the room, a tall and lanky man of advancing years. His hair and beard streaked with white, the arms of his shocking green tunic tucked behind his arms. He was not in his throne, but was standing at a railing at the side of the room, gazing out on the coming sunrise.

Shiva knelt in the middle of the room, as she waited for her lord to recognize her presence.

"Rise, Lady Shiva," said the calm and deceivingly gentle voice of Ra's al Ghul. Rising to her feet, Shiva remained silent,

"I have just received word," said Ra's, his tone soft, "That our agent in Gotham has failed in his task. He has just been apprehended by Detective Jackson."

"Deadshot? Or our agents within Falcone's family?"

"Deadshot," said Ra's, still peering out into the horizon.

"My…allies, will be most displeased when they hear of his failure. Twice now, our plans for the detective's death have been thwarted. He has proven far more elusive than initially believed."

"What do you will of me?" Asked Shiva gently, she knew what he would ask of her, but duty and tradition demanded that she hear the orders herself.

"Go to Gotham. Ensure that the Detective does not live to see the New Year. The jet has already been prepared. You will be in Gotham before the festivities commence." He finally looked at her,

"Be swift, and return to me as soon as your job has been accomplished." He directed his gaze back out to the sunrise, as the sun's warm glow raked over him, dousing him in its glowing light.

"By this time tomorrow…the world will have seen…the Light."

Notes:

We're in the endgame now folks! Only two chapters left and boy are they doozies! Hope your excited and have enjoyed the way this story has been playing out. I can't believe that we're already at the end of the first book, but it's been a blast the entire way through. As always shoutout to Double0Sxvxn for being an awesome Beta and dealing with my bullshit and as always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord,on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, so join if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week.

All My Love and see you next week,

LilDB

Chapter 35: Revelations

"You're trying to tell me that you just ran into the forest, alone, without backup, thinking that one of the most dangerous men on the planet was waiting for you…because of a hunch?"

"Well when you say it like that, it sounds kind of ridiculous."

"It is ridiculous!"

Montoya threw her hands up in exasperation, before waving a dismissive hand at Percy,

"You are quite literally the craziest mother fucker I have ever met in my entire life."

"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment,"

"It's not and you shouldn't."

Percy chuckled as he opened the door for Montoya leading into the interior of central booking. They'd gotten word from Gordon that Lawton had finally woken up and had been processed. He was currently waiting in one of the interview rooms for Percy and Montoya.

As they walked through the doors to the monitor room where the Commissioner and District Attorney would watch the interview, Percy and Montoya found the men already there and waiting for them.

"Hell of a job, detective," said Dent, a wide smile on his face as he rose from his chair and gave Percy a firm handshake.

"Thank you, sir," said Percy cautiously. Given the way the man had acted the other night, and general…aloof attitude, Percy was more than a little wary of the man. Something about him struck Percy as being very off.

"That was the easy part," grunted Gordon, "Hard part is going to be getting him to cooperate. Jackson, he was your collar, you want first dibs?"

"Please and thank you," nodded Percy, before glancing at the monitor of the interview room. Lawton was sitting, bound in a straight-jacket in order to restrict his movements, alone in the room. Percy cocked his head curiously,

"Lawyer hasn't shown up yet?" Asked Percy,

"Federal Supervillain Detention Act," said Dent, "Passed a couple of years ago in response to the massive uptick in the classification of criminal activity. Any person who is classified as a 'supervillain,' loses their constitutional protections. They're deemed as large enough menaces to society that the benefits to the country heavily outweigh the consequences." Dent shrugged, "At least as far as the Supreme Court is concerned at any rate. Who knows if it'll stick around but for now, that means that he's free game." He paused, "But maybe try not to give the man another concussion." He winked at Percy, who felt immensely uncomfortable by the gesture by tried his best not to show it.

"Right," said Percy slowly, "Well then, I guess I'll go crack him a little then," "Don't go easy on him," said Montoya as Percy slid past her and out of the room. He missed the worried look that Gordon shot to Dent as Percy left the room. As Percy shut the door behind him, he was greeted by the unwelcome surprise of the Batman waiting for him. Standing on the other side of the hall.

"The hell are you doing here?" Demanded Percy, his good mood immediately souring at the sight of the vigilante,

"I'm going to speak to Lawton," said Batman. It wasn't a request, it wasn't a question. It was a simple statement of fact.

"Hell no," spat Percy, "This was our investigation, our collar. You had nothing to do with this, and furthermore you're not even a fucking cop. Like hell I'm going to let you interview him before I get the opportunity."

"He won't crack to you," said Batman. He was wrong, but Percy was still very consciously aware that the man likely didn't know that Percy had used the mist on him previously, and Percy had absolutely zero desire to give that information away here and now.

"And he will for you?" Said Percy, crossing his arms over his chest,

"Yes," said Batman. He did not offer any other form of explanation, not that Percy was going to actively seek one.

"There is more going on here than you understand," said Batman, "I'm asking you to trust me," "Trust you? Trust you?" Percy would have laughed he wasn't so blindingly angry, "You're asking me, to trust you. You, the guy who ordered me a personal babysitter. The guy who tore through my life without any semblance of guilt? You're asking me to trust you? Lex Luthor will be elected the president before that'll happen. Why the hell should I trust you?"

"Because I respect you," said Batman, and Percy stiffened,

"Excuse me?" Said Percy, certain that he had misheard,

"I said that I respect you. I'm not one for apologizing, it's one of my many flaws. And it's even harder for me to admit when I was wrong. But with regards to you, I was. You've done nothing but an impeccable job since arriving to Gotham. You have my respect, detective, and I need you trust me right now. I need your trust because you know, peripherally, what's going on. What has been happening behind the scenes. I know that the rest of the League spoke to you, I know you know what's been happening. Deadshot may be the link we need to put the final pieces together. So I'll say it again, I need you to trust me."

It wasn't often that Percy was left at a loss for words. Yet here he was. He didn't know what to make of the man. One minute, he was cold and berating, and the other he was humble and understanding. It was maddening. The worst part about it, was that Percy didn't know if the man was truly being genuine or if he was just being a hell of a liar. Percy wouldn't have put it past the man to manipulate him like that, but it seemed like such a genuine admission.

Perhaps more agitating, was that the man had a point. Percy had been having similar thoughts since bringing in Deadshot. It was clear that, if he wasn't at least working with the Shadows, then he was at least working at the behest of them. There were other things happening in the background, things that undoubtably weren't good. Percy wasn't so naive as to think that what the League did didn't matter. He couldn't stay out of this.

And it infuriated him.

Gritting his teeth, and not trusting his voice, he simply nodded at the Bat and wordlessly walked away. Batman fell into step with him. Silently, Percy opened the door to the interview room and walked inside. Lawton looked up from his lap, and glared at Jackson, before freezing as he saw the man who entered the room behind him.

Batman brushed past Percy and strode up to the small table in front of Lawton. He didn't speak, instead he simply reached into his utility belt and pulled a small photograph out. Percy couldn't see what was on the photo, but judging by the way Lawton's face contorted in rage, Percy could make some educated guesses.

"6104 West Lincoln Avenue." Said Batman gently, as he leaned forward onto the table, "Just so you know that I'm not in the mood to be playing any more games with you."

Lawton looked like he would have liked nothing more than to choke Batman to death with his own teeth at that moment. But he slumped in his chair, and nodded,

"I'll talk," said Lawton, "Just leave my kid the fuck alone,"

"Detective," said Batman in lieu of an answer, and Percy stepped forward.

"Falcone," said Percy, "I want everything you have on him. Now."

"I got a call a few weeks ago. Ten Million for every name on the list. It was easy money and I wasn't about to say no. Falcone wired the money after confirmation of every kill."

"How many names were on the list?" Asked Percy,

"Seven," said Lawton, "Friend's of his brother or some shit. Look I don't know, I don't ask too many questions. He paid me, gave me the targets, and that was about all there was to it."

Batman shared a look with Percy, and Percy nodded at him. That was all they needed. Batman pressed a button on the side of his gauntlet, and there was a strange clicking noise. Percy shot a confused look at the Bat, but he didn't spare a look in Percy's direction.

"Camera's are off now Lawton," said Batman, "And it's just us listening. How long have you been working with the Shadows?"

Lawton's stiffened,

"Hell no," said Lawton, "Uh-uh. You want me to turn on some wannabe mobsters? Fine, what are they to someone like me. But them? Hell no, I ain't saying a damn thing."

"Why did they order you to kill Winston?" Demanded Batman, but Lawton refused to speak. However his silence seemed to be answer enough for Batman. Without sparing a second glance at either Percy or Lawton, he turned on his heel and strode from the room. Percy shared an incredulous look with Lawton, before Percy chased after the vigilante.

"The hell was that?" Percy called out as he dashed into the hall, but the Bat ignored him. He turned around the next hall, and by the time Percy reached the corner, the man had disappeared.

"Dick," muttered Percy, as a door to his right opened and Montoya stepped out into the hall. Percy could see Gordon and Dent speaking in hushed tones behind her,

"Metro," she hissed, "What the fuck was that?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know!" Said Percy, "You know what that asshole is like!"

"What happened? The cameras all went out and Gordon refused to let me go in there,"

"Something about Shadows?" Said Percy, "I have no idea what the fuck he was talking about. He only asked something about whether or not these 'Shadows' or whatever the fuck ordered him to kill Winston, Lawton didn't say anything, and then he left."

"The hell is a Shadow?" Asked Montoya,

"Beats the fuck out of me," lied Percy,

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," said Gordon, having finished his conversation with Dent, he had stepped out into the hall as well. "Those Justice League types are working their own agenda, even the Bat. You spend too much time thinking about it and it'll hurt your brain." He sighed as he pulled his pipe out and lit it,

"Dent's going to try and convince Lawton to sign a plea deal. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night, so why don't you two get out of here for the time being. I don't think there's anything else for you here tonight."

"You sure about that Jim?" Said Montoya warily, her eyes darting down the hall and back towards where Lawton was sitting, "I won't speak for Metro, but I'm happy to stick around if you need me to."

"No, no," said Gordon dismissively, "It's New Years Eve, take the night off for once. You've been on the clock for the last week and a half straight. Take tonight and tomorrow, get rested and refreshed and be back first thing on Wednesday."

"If you say so," shrugged Montoya,

"Thank you sir," said Percy.

Gordon nodded stiffly, before turning on his heel and marching back into the observation room with Dent. At a look from Montoya, Percy and Montoya walked away from the room.

"Got anything fun planned for New Years, now that you have a free night?" Asked Montoya, and Percy shrugged noncommittally,

"Not really, not much of a Holiday guy. Probably just gonna go back home, have some drinks, and pass out. Probably watch some football tomorrow, but I just wanna take it easy. Been a long couple of months, you know?"

"Ain't that the truth," groused Montoya as they stepped out of the building and into the chilly winter evening.

"Well I guess I'll see you on Wednesday," said Montoya, "Happy New Year Percy,"

"Happy New Year Renee,"

But as Percy walked back to his car, he couldn't get the interaction between the bat and Lawton out of his head, or what Lawton had said to Percy during their encounter. There was more going on, and like it or not, Percy knew that he was involved in all of this. If Lawton had been working with or for the Shadows, and he had been ordered or hired to kill Percy, then what the Justice League had warned him about was starting to bear fruit.

He had questions, and he desperately needed answers.

He needed to speak to Canary. Believing that his babysitter was probably hanging around somewhere nearby, Percy extended his senses outward and tried to find a sign that she was somewhere nearby. But as he scanned the nearby buildings, he didn't find anything out of the ordinary. Nobody was near him, nobody that shouldn't be at any rate.

"Always around when I don't you to be, but the second I actually want to talk you're nowhere to be found. Typical."

Grunting in agitation, he decided that he'd try and track her down the next day. Sooner or later she'd probably be following him around again.

Turning back to the parking, he began a slow walk back to his car.

At least he could sleep in tomorrow.

---

Percy jolted awake, the remote falling from his lap and clattering to the floor. Blearily, he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. A loud fist rapped at the door, and Percy groaned. Sitting up, he cracked his back and glanced back at the clock on his oven. It was a little after eight. He had only been asleep for an hour or so.

There was another loud knock on the door, and Percy groaned as he got out of chair, a feeling of foreboding washing over him. Nothing good ever seemed to happen when someone knocked on his door.

Opening the door, it took his brain a couple of seconds to process what he was looking at. Teenagers, several teenagers, all in varied stages of dress were standing, shivering in the snow. But that wasn't what had his attention. No, it was the armless and legless torso, and the bound and gagged Black Canary in the burly arms of Superboy, that had his attention.

Percy slowly turned his attention back to the teenager who had knocked on his door. Meeting the frantic eyes of Kaldur, Percy asked his most pressing question.

"Kaldur…what the fuck?"

"Apologies, your highness," said Kaldur, much to Percy's consternation, "But please, can you let us in before anybody sees something?" Without his permission, his body unconsciously stepped aside as the kids all scrambled into the apartment and out of the cold. When the last member of the team, Robin, had stepped inside, Percy closed the door behind him and locked it. He cast a brief glance at the windows of his apartment, before striding to each one in turn and shut the blinds. When his work was done, Superbly deposited the unconscious Canary and the limbless torso onto the couch.

"You have my thanks, detective," came the slightly modulated voice of the head of the torso, and Percy blinked in surprise,

"Huh?" He was not ready for today,

"My apologies," said the…man, "My name is Red Tornado,"

"Pretty sure Red Tornado has arms…and legs…and is red…" said Percy slowly,

"There's been an attack on the Justice League," explained Kaldur, "Members of the League of been brainwashed, using these," he reached into his pocket and held out a small triangular device. Reaching out, Percy let out a seething hiss as his skin came into contact with the foul magic emanating from the device, and he dropped it on the ground.

"Kaldur what the fuck!" He said, startled, "That thing is foul,"

"Yes, your highness," agreed Kaldur, who reached down and snagged the device, "It is a mixture of alien technology and magic. We are unsure how it works precisely, but we do know that it has been used to brainwash the majority of the League. That is why Canary is…indisposed."

Percy shot a glance over at the unconscious woman. It was his first time seeing the woman without her mask on, and there was something oddly familiar about her. Then he had to look again.

No…that wasn't-he was seeing things.

He blinked, and then he rubbed at his eyes and stared again. There was no way he was seeing things right. But he knew that face. It would be impossible not to. He'd seen it at least twice a week for nearly six months.

"Dinah?" Percy said, his voice coming out slightly weak and hoarse, "That's…that's Dinah…"

Kaldur froze, and shot a look at Artemis, whose face had drained of all color.

"That's Canary," said Artemis quickly, "You don't know what you're talking about,"

Rage, blinding rage, the likes of which Percy had not felt in nearly a decade washed over him. The wind outside the apartment picked up into a furious howl, as rain, sleet, and snow began to cascade down in a torrential onslaught from the heavens.

"Bullshit," snapped Percy, "I know what my fucking friend looks like, and I know that's fucking Dinah," He whirled on Kaldur, "Did you know about this?"

"I-your highness," Kaldur tried to say taking a cautious step-back as Superbly advanced on Percy,

"Hey leave him alone! He had nothing to do with-"

"Sleep!" Barked Percy, channeling the mist into his voice. Superboy's eyes crossed for a moment, before they rolled back into his head and he fell face-first onto the ground. A red-headed girl, whom Percy deduced to likely be his girlfriend, squeaked in worry and dashed over to the boy, while Robin and Kid Flash darted forward. Percy caught them before they could get closer, and in a moment, both of them were asleep on the floor as well. \

"Enough!" Barked out Red Tornado, and Percy turned his furious expression away from Artemis, who had her bow drawn and aimed at Percy's chest, and Percy addressed the android.

"The kids are not responsible for the deception, please do not harm them further!"

"I'm going to need a damn good reason why I don't turn you into scrap," snarled Percy, white-hot rage frothing in his chest,

"Because the fate of the world hinges on these children, and on you," said Red Tornado somberly, "I empathize with your fury, even if my processors limit my ability to understand it. However you must see the bigger picture right now-"

"Bigger picture? Bigger fucking picture?" Percy bellowed, "You people have been using me, manipulating me, abusing my trust and confidence for months! One of my best fucking friends is nothing more than a plant to spy on me and you want me to see the bigger picture!"

Percy was yelling, and he was sure that his neighbors would be able to hear him, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Hurt, anger, despair. The emotions were roiling inside of him, fighting and clashing against his psyche, drowning out any other thought or reason.

At that moment, Canary's eyes snapped open. She panicked, as she looked around her at the strange surroundings as she fought against her bindings, and then her gaze landed on Percy. Her eyes went wide, and she started to shake. She tried to speak but the gag was muffling her words. In a rush, Kaldur dashed to her side and undid the gag around her mouth,

"Percy!" She gasped out, "I can explain!"

"Save it!" Percy snapped. He was breathing heavily, and he shut his eyes as he fought for internal control. He couldn't lose himself now. Not after he'd worked so hard to keep his power even. He took several shaking breaths, and turned away from Dinah, unable to even look at her. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks. Tears of frustration, of anguish and rage. He dug his nails into his palm, hoping the pain would keep him level, as warm blood trickled from where his nails cut into his skin.

"You claim to be the good guys but you invade my life and my privacy and try to control me. You're really no different than the people you fight." His voice was hoarse and choked with emotion. He needed to leave. To get out of her before he got even worse.

"Do whatever the fuck you need to, then get out of my house." He strode away from the living room, past the unconscious bodies of the teenagers still sleeping on the floor and grabbed his coat from where he'd tossed in on the kitchen island. "If you're not gone by the time I get back, I'll evict you the hard way."

He wrapped a hand around the knob of the door and opened it. Cool wind danced across his skin as the bite of winter nipper at his exposed flesh. The storm had subsided, and a gentle snowfall had taken its place.

"Canary," said Percy, his voice soft, "If I ever see you anywhere near me again, I'll kill you." He waved his hand behind him, undoing the sleeping spell he'd placed on the boys, and closed the door behind him.

He didn't have a destination in mind as he walked through the streets of Gotham. He simply allowed his feet to carry him. His mind was reeling, and he felt numb, though not from the bitter cold. He wasn't thinking, so much as he was just…existing.

How had it happened again? How had he let this happen to him again? He had promised himself that he wouldn't let something like this happen to him, not since he had left the life behind. He had thought to highly of himself he supposed. He had believed that, after being the pawn in the machinations of higher beings his entire life, he would have been able to detect when a mere mortal had been using him to their own ends.

He was a fool.

Was it so much to ask for a normal life. To just be a normal man, with normal problems and normal worries? Why did it seem that it was his destiny to be wrapped up in the games of beings beyond comprehension. To be a pawn in the schemes of those who believed themselves superior.

Was it the simple nature of humanity? Was it in mans inherent nature to manipulate others, to abuse trust and use one another for personal gain?

Or was he merely the unfortunate victim of cruel fate?

He idly noticed that the street ahead of him had been closed off for construction, and he was forced to make a detour, but he barely paid it a second glance.

Had any of it been real? He had thought as much, he had thought that Dinah…no, Canary. He had thought that Canary had truly been his friend. Had he been so wrapped up in his own hopes for a normal life that he had been blinded to what was happening right in front of him? How could he have been fooled so easily? The woman only wore a measly theater mask and a wig. Add in the voice modulator and the entire ensemble was ridiculous. Had he truly been so blind?

Another section of the road was blocked off and he was forced to take yet another detour through an alley.

No…he couldn't have been that blind. It wasn't just him that had been fooled after all. Canary had fooled others. The entire Justice League had. But maybe he hadn't wanted to see it at all. Maybe he had just been so desperate for companionship of any kind that he had willingly blinded himself to all reason and logic in favor of having that bond.

He sighed, stopping in the middle of the alley.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He could move again, he supposed. Get out of the city, try and go somewhere where there weren't any known heroes or villains. Try and start over. But he didn't want that. He was just starting to find his footing here. Was just starting to find his place. He had a good partner, a good relationship with the commissioner, and had been doing good work. He couldn't leave now.

Moreover, if he did leave, it would just be giving in to what those bastards wanted. Batman didn't want him in Gotham, had this been his plan the entire time? Get someone close to him, then break his spirit? Was this entire ruse with the sidekicks part of the plan?

No…no that didn't make sense. He knew Kaldur well enough to know that the boy would never willingly go along with something like that. While it would have been in character for the Bat to play him like that, Percy truly did believe that it was all just a matter of unfortunate circumstances.

The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end, and his body moved of its own accord, reacting on instinct. Diving to the side, he just managed to avoid being impaled in the chest by several shuriken, which appeared from somewhere above him. However he had not been quiet fast enough to get out of the entirely, and the weapons embedded in his arm. Almost immediately, Percy felt woozy. Something strange was seeping into his bloodstream, making him feel dizzy and disoriented.

"Fucking poison," spat Percy, as he reached inside of himself and gripped onto the foreign entity. Pulling at the poison, he pulled it up and out of, gathering the offending substance in his mouth and spitting the poison onto the ground in a black and purple wad.

"I don't know who you are!" Percy called out into the alleyway, "But I can promise you, that you really don't want to be doing this today…" He got no reply to his suggestion, and as he expanded his senses outward, he could feel someone moving rapidly over the rooftops above him. He reached down to his waist and cursed. In his hurry to leave his apartment, he had completely forgotten to grab his weapon.

"Guess we're doing this the old-fashioned way," he muttered to himself, as he scanned the rooftops for his quarry, he found his target, clinging to the side of the nearest building. Hoping to catch the woman by surprise, he suddenly spun around and leapt into the air, nearly two stories, and swung a fist at the assailant.

However the target, a woman who seemed strangely familiar to him, was agile. Contorting out of the way of the attack, she flipped off the building and landed in the alley below. Landing on the building, Percy dropped back to the ground, and glared at the woman. There wasn't much in the way of light in the alley, but it was a full moon and the shine from it's face illuminated just enough of the alley for Percy to recognize the woman.

"Well hello Ms. Wu-San," said Percy, "Or whatever the fuck your name is, nice to finally meet you." She didn't respond, "You want to tell me what this is about? Or should I just assume you're with the Shadows or whatever the fuck it's called. Which reminds me, that's a dumb ass name, you weren't the one to come up with that were, because that would be unfortu-"

Percy was cut off as the woman darted forward. She had withdrawn a large scimitar from under the back of the robes she was wearing, and she brought the weapon across her body in a blindingly fast attack. Percy was fast, and he managed to avoid most of the more lethal blows from the woman, however her lither frame, and her own seemingly unnatural agility was starting to wear him down. While Percy was able to avoid being dealt a fatal blow, he was not quite fast enough to avoid being hit. His jacket was soon shredded as she hacked and slashed at him. Blood began dribbling from small cuts along his arms, legs, and cheeks, staining the snow below his feet in crimson.

Growling in irritation, Percy finds his opening. Ducking under a slash, he wrapped his arms around her legs and hefted her into the air. With as much force as he could muster, he left his feet as he smashed her into the floor of the alley. The woman grunted in pain, but she was not deterred by the blow. Reaching into her hair, she withdrew a small needle-like knife and made to stab Percy in the neck. However Percy bat the offending weapon away like a gnat and reared his head back. With a roar, he brought the crown of his forehead forward bashed his skull into the woman's. She gasped in pain as her head smacked in the concrete beneath them, and blood began to flow from the wound.

Percy reared a fist back, intending on trying to break her ribs, when the woman contorted out of his grasp. Coiling like a snake, she wrapped her legs around his waist and slithered her way up his body like a snake faster than Percy could process. She reached his shoulders, and wrapped her legs around Percy's throat, effectively choking him. Percy stumbled to his feet, his body swaying to and fro as he tried to toss the woman off of him. He felt her upper body moving, and out of his darkening vision, he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eyes.

He shot his arms out, and caught the woman's hands before she could impale him in the temples with a pair of razor-sharp needles. Percy applied as much force as he could to the woman's wrists, which snapped with a loud 'CRACK' the reverberated around the alley. She let out a howl of misery and her grip on Percy's neck slackened enough for him to suck in a heaving breath.

Reaching up, he wrapped a hand through the woman's hair and bodily threw her to the ground. Rearing back one last time, he leveled a punch against her forehead, making sure to only use just enough power to knock her out, and not kill her. The woman fell still and unmoving, and the alley fell silent.

Sucking in deep breaths, Percy rubbed at his chaffed and sore neck. His body hurt, and he was bleeding rather profusely. He glared at the woman at the ground. Of course it would happen tonight of all nights. When his temper was already bad, and his emotions were frayed.

He was sick of being hunted. Sick of being manipulated. Sick of people trying to kill him for stupid, asinine shit.

He made a decision.

Picking the woman up, he channeled his father's power, and disappeared in a flurry of water.

---

Slowly, Shiva began to come to. She was sore, the back of her head throbbed, and she felt as though she had been run over several times over. She was also shockingly cold. It felt as though she had been forced onto the peak of a mountain without protection. Though she was surprised that she was still alive. She had been told that the detective did not share the childish reticence to take a life shared by the Justice League. Perhaps he believed that he would be able to get something out of her.

Fool.

She tried to move her body to see if she was restrained. Her legs moved freely, but came into contact with something strangely solid, cool, and wet all at once. She tried to move her hands and let out a gasp of pain. Right, the brute had broken her wrists. Well, she had been in worse situations she supposed. She just needed to take stock of her surroundings. She tried to open her eyes, but it didn't seem to work. She was still surrounded entirely by inky blackness. She couldn't even see the nose in front of her face. She closed her eyes and tried again, but to no avail.

Had the blow to the back of her head taken her vision from her? Or was she simply locked away?

She tried to stand, but her head slammed into something as solid and yet and oddly wet as the floor. What the hell was going on?

Her answer came a few moments later. A dull light began emerged. It was as though it was coming from miles away. Perhaps her vision was returning?

She watched as the dancing light approached. It was oddly hypnotic, swaying to and fro in a calming and soothing manner. Her eyes tracked the light, as it came closer and closer. But even as the light grew closer, her vision around the periphery still appeared dark. In fact, the closer the light became, the more blinding it was. She tried to shield her eyes but the light was so pervasive that it made little difference. The light was right on top of her, and then she let out a startled scream as a monster appeared behind the light. Rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth sunk into the wet prison surrounding her.

It was a damn anglerfish. After a few seconds, the fish swam back from her prison. The light allowed her to get a better view of her surroundings. She was trapped inside what appeared to be a ball of water. In every direction, she could only see more darkness, but as she turned her attention back to the fish, a new figure appeared. Swimming through the waters before appearing in front of her.

Percy Jackson, looking completely unharmed both by the fact that he was underwater and from their brief fight, stopped beside the anglerfish.

"Morning sunshine," said Jackson,

"Where the hell am I?" She demanded, panic flooding through her. She was normally far more composed, but she was out of her element. Quite literally. They knew that Jackson had powers, it was even presumed that he might have been part Atlantean, but this was something else entirely.

"The Marianas Trench," said Jackson, looking around fondly at the empty pit of darkness around them, "The deepest part of the ocean."

"You're going to kill me," said Shiva bluntly,

"Of course," said Jackson breezily, "But first I want a chat,"

"You are a fool," scoffed Shiva, "You tell me you will kill me, and then proceed to demand answers? You would be better off killing me here and now."

"That's cute," chuckled Jackson, "You think you actually have a choice in the matter." He held a hand out in front of him and his eyes glowed bright. A wave of calm washed over Shiva. Her mind went blank, and her only desire in the world was to answer each and every one of Percy Jackson's as accurately as possible. Slumping against the wall of her prison, Shiva stared unblinkingly at her captor.

"Who are you?" Asked Jackson,

"They call me Lady Shiva,"

"Cute," scoffed Jackson, "You work for the League of Shadows?"

"Yes, I have devoted my life and my body to the use of Ra's al Ghul and the League of Shadows,"

"Gross," grunted Jackson, "Why were you ordered to kill me,"

"You killed Klarion," said Shiva,

"Why do the Shadows care about that?"

"Because he was a member of the Light."

Jackson arched a brow, "And what, exactly, is the Light?"

"An organization dedicated to bringing about a new era for the world and ending the reign of the Justice League,"

Jackson snorted and rolled his eyes, "Of course it's more superhero bullshit," he muttered,

"It is," said Shiva,

"What are the Light's plans?"

"I have not been made privy to that knowledge."

"Of course not," sighed Jackson, "Okay, who's in the Light?"

"Ra's al Ghul, Queen Bee, Ocean Master, Lex Luthor, The Brain, and Vandal Savage. There have been talks of introducing Deathstroke the Terminator to the organization."

"Heavy hitters," Jackson muttered, "Anything else pressing that you think I should know?"

"They are working with an otherworldly entity." Said Shiva, "I do not know their identity, only that they are supplying us with alien technology. That is all I know."

"Good enough," said Jackson, waving his hand in front of the woman. All at once, the sense of calm vanished, and panic began to overwhelm Shiva as she regained control over her body,

"What did you do?" She demanded, "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Jackson's only answer, was to smile. He held his hand out again, and suddenly her prison began to shake and rumble. The walls slowly began to close in around her, she was forced onto her knees as the walls pressed her into a smaller and smaller ball. It felt like she was being squeezed by walls of concrete. She screamed in terror and pain as her bones broke, and her body was contorted beyond the point any living human could sustain. The last thing she saw, was the eery smile on Jackson's face.

Then blackness consumed her.

---

Percy watched as Lady Shiva's broken and contorted body fell into the abyss. He sighed, running a hand through hair. This was going to be a mess. What did he do with this information now that he had it? That was the real question. On the one hand, his mind was telling him to just leave things as they were. To drop this entire ordeal and try and get on with his life.

The other, more rational part of him, knew that wouldn't be an option any more. He had just killed his assassin. The person sent by the League to kill him. If they were trying to kill him for what he did to Klarion, then they would surely keep coming after him, especially after what he just did.

He sighed, he knew what needed to be done.

He just wished he didn't have to do it.

Resignation in his heart, Percy dismissed the anglerfish, and began the long swim back to New York.

He needed to make a phone call.

Chapter 36: Epilogue

Percy received a message from Kaldur the day after returning to the surface. He thanked Percy for allowing them to use his home, and informed him that the crisis had been dealt with and the League returned to their normal selves. He also apologized for what had happened and for the intrusion on his life. He confessed that he had not known of Canary's relationship with Percy, and swore that he would have said something had he known.

Percy wasn't sure if he believed the kid, but he was grateful for the sentiment nonetheless.

Percy had not been idle in his time off.

He got out of his car at the top of the abandoned parking garage. It was exceedingly early in the morning. The sun had not yet begun to rise and Percy was not due to Gordon's office for some time. He checked his watch, and on cue, there was a flurry of fabric rubbing together. Turning his head, Percy addressed the man he had contacted.

"You said we needed to talk," said Batman, and Percy nodded, quashing the surge of anger in his chest. Without a word, Percy passed over a small file. Batman took it, opened it, and began scanning the contents.

"How did you get this?" He asked,

"I have my ways," said Percy, and Batman seemed to understand that he wasn't going to be getting any more than that.

"How certain are you of the accuracy of this?" Asked Batman,

"Completely," said Percy,

"Does this have to do with information I've obtained that Lady Shiva has disappeared?" Asked Batman, and Percy shrugged in response. As far as he was concerned, he'd done what he was morally obligated to do, and he was done here. He turned, intent on getting back to his car and getting breakfast before his shift in the morning.

"Be careful," warned Batman, and Percy turned around,

"Pardon?" Said Percy, turning around,

"The Shadows are still after you," said Batman, "They won't stop. Regardless of whether you care or not, they will be relentless in their pursuit of you. Watch your back."

"Thanks for the heads up," said Percy, "But I'm capable of looking out for myself,"

"I know," said Batman, putting the folder away in a pocket in his cape, "But all the same. They are not to be underestimated. Half-god or not, you're as vulnerable to a bullet as anyone."

"Something like that," said Percy, "If there's nothing else…"

"There is, actually," said Batman, "Gordon is going to have an offer to you today when you go in. I suggest you think about it seriously."

Percy arched an eyebrow, but didn't respond. Turning on his heel, he got back into his car. By the time he turned the ignition, Batman was gone.

One-Police Plaza was empty that morning. Not a surprise, given that it was still relatively early. Gordon had asked that Percy and Montoya come in to see him early. Montoya's car was already parked and empty by the time Percy got there, so he proceeded into the building alone.

Walking into Gordon's office, he was greeted by the unusual sight of not just Gordon and Montoya, but Batman and Dent as well.

"Did I miss something?" Asked Percy as he walked in and took his usual seat beside Montoya,

"Deadshot's gone," said Gordon blandly, and Percy's stomach dropped, "Escaped during prisoner transfer to Belle Reve. Killed three of his guards and took off."

"Fucking hell," groaned Percy, sliding down in his seat and covering his face with his hands, "This shit cannot keep happening to us."

"Funny you say that," said Dent, walking around the desk to stand next to Percy. Lowering his hands, Percy met the man's gaze and sat up straighter in the chair. He gazed around the room, and got the sneaking suspicion that everyone in there knew something that he didn't.

"I can't help feel like I'm missing something here." Said Percy,

"That's because you are," said Dent, clapping Percy on the shoulder and striding over to the window. "This mess with Falcone…it's getting out of hand. It needs to be stopped. We have evidence, but nowhere near enough to get the slime bastard. We need something concrete, something legitimate that links him to the rest of the family." He glanced over his shoulder,

"That's where you come in," said Gordon,

"Pardon?" Said Percy,

"We want you to go undercover," explained Gordon, "With the family."

"Okay…" said Percy slowly, his brain taking a minute to process the request, "Small problem with that. Pretty sure I'm as high up on Falcone's shit-list as you are sir,"

"You do have a habit of making enemies," chuckled Gordon, "But that's where he comes in," he gestured over to Batman, who stepped forward and handed over a small item to Percy. It was a simple leather necklace with intricate runes carved in elegant, multi-colored beads. The necklace looked oddly familiar, he just couldn't place where he knew it from.

"That's an enchanted necklace," explained Batman, "Courtesy of Zatara of the Justice League. It casts an illusion over the wearer, making them appear but to select few, as someone else entirely."

"Y'all have clearly thought this thing through," said Percy in an undertone as he stared at the necklace, "Just one question, why me? I've only been here a couple of months,"

"Because your disposable," said Dent with a shrug,

"Harvey!" Snapped Gordon, and Percy snorted,

"What?" Said Dent, "He's the only one here without parents, a spouse of one form or another, or any friends outside of Renee I'm guessing. He knows it,"

"Doesn't mean you have to say it, jackass," muttered Percy, even though the man was right.

"The actual reason," said Gordon with a glare at Dent, "Is because you're a wanted man. This arrived this morning." He slid something across the desk, and Percy picked it up. It was his headshot from when he had been in the military, with a large red "X" over his face. It wasn't subtle, but then again, neither was Falcone.

"Sir-" Percy began,

"I know, I know," said Gordon dismissively, "I know what you're going to say, but just hear me out, please. I've lost too many people to these dirtbags. This isn't the first of these kinds of messages I've seen, and i don't doubt that it won't be the last. I'm not going to make you take the job, but I am going to ask. These people are relentless. Odd as it is to say it, the safest place for you to be right now, is in the family."

Percy looked up, and very briefly met the eyes of Batman, who nodded subtly at him.

So that was what this was about. This wasn't about the Falcone family. It was about the Shadows. Percy wouldn't have been surprised if it had been the Bat who put him up to it. Whether it was to get Percy out of the way, or whether because he genuinely was looking out for Percy's safety was difficult to discern.

But that left a question. Did he accept.

He almost sighed.

He knew what the answer would be without even having to think about it. If it meant putting Falcone away for good…

It was worth it.

Silver Deserved that much.

"I'll do it."

Notes:

And there we have it! This is officially the end of the first book of the series! Thank you all for staying with me for so long on this journey, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Now I know you're going to be asking when the new story will be up, and I do not know yet. I'm going to be taking a minor break from updating for a bit just so I can rebuild my stockpile of chapters, but I will promise that the sequel to this story will be on my priority list. If you want updates on what stories I'm working on or when I plan on publishing the new story or even just want to chart, join the discord, where I hang out and scare around with other writers and readers. Thanks again for all of the love and support, hope you had a happy holidays, and I love you all so very much!

Love,

LilDB

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of The One-Seven